ã€ŠReborn From the Cosmosã€‹


 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 1

    I don¡¯t know why everyone wants to be special. Fame, talent, good looks. Brings nothing but trouble that multiplies for each one you have.

    Me? By some unfortunate turn of events, I was born with two of the three. The worst two in my opinion; fame and talent. Jeez. I mean, if I had at least been born beautiful, people would be a little nicer when they tried to use me.

    If I had my way, I would have been born in a small village bordering one of the dozens of dungeons littering the continent. Live a leisurely life collecting alchemy materials during the day and drinking ale to the sound of bards at night. Ah. What I would give.

    Instead, I was born to a semi-famous summoner, more famous for his family name than his ability, with an ax to grind with the magic community and a daughter with enough talent to carry out his grudge.

    That¡¯s the fame half. The talent? I¡¯m good with numbers. Doesn¡¯t sound like much. But that¡¯s just it. Magic. It¡¯s just numbers. Everything in the world and beyond can be expressed numerically. You just need to know how. You input all the factors into an equation and you get a result. That result is the spell. You pour mana into it and blam. Fireball. Ice sword. Earthquake.

    Everyone and I do mean everyone has at least a single affinity for magic. Doesn¡¯t mean squat if it takes half a day for you to solve a spell. Not very combat-worthy. Only people with a head for calculations make decent casters.

    I¡¯m better than normal. Numbers just get me and I get them. I¡¯m not super smart. As a noble, I¡¯ve been invited to parties thrown by other, usually more famous, houses so they can showcase their casters. There are some real geniuses out there. I can¡¯t compare to them. No, I can just add and subtract fast. Really, really fast.

    There¡¯s the fame and the talent. Too bad they don¡¯t come with fortune. Definitely not. If they did, my father would have understood that I didn¡¯t want to be a caster and let me live my carefree life. Nope. Instead, I get shoved into a carriage opposite him and off to the Grand Hall we went.

    The Grand Hall is the center of magic studies for the entire kingdom. It goes beyond a mere school. There are a handful of those sprinkled about. What they don¡¯t do is research. Students at the Grand Hall aren¡¯t just taught how to cast. It is the preeminent institution for researching spells. The best and the brightest are brought together to further humanity¡¯s understanding of magic.

    That is the exact opposite of my easy-going dream life. I protested this decision strongly but really, how much can you say when the other person involved in the conversation has control over your family inheritance?

    I blame his decision for everything. This is not being spiteful. If I hadn''t been in that carriage, I wouldn¡¯t have been on the road when a madman was hunting for victims. If I weren¡¯t on the road, said madman wouldn¡¯t have decided to attack. If he doesn¡¯t attack, our carriage isn¡¯t knocked over and I don¡¯t fall unconscious.

    Which leads to the current situation.

    Me, gagged and chained to a wall along with several other girls. The madman in the middle of the room, kneeling in what is clearly a summoning circle. The very ominous knife in his hand spotted with blood.

    This is the worst. Seriously the worst. I don¡¯t hate magic. I just don¡¯t want to spend my life enslaved to it. Casters spend decades honing their spells, reducing their equations to the very limit or studying accurate equations to define something new. Tedious doesn¡¯t begin to describe the process and that¡¯s the best they can hope for. Because when magic isn¡¯t tedious, it¡¯s dangerous.

    I don¡¯t want to be stuck in that kind of life. But here I am, poised to have my life stolen by magic anyway. This guy is the worst kind of caster too, the kind who takes to the system too much and begins to think of everything by its value. People are just mana coefficients and attribute variables. Emotion cannot be quantified. Does not compute.

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    Time has taken its toll on my kidnapper. I can¡¯t see much in the dim light but he looks haggard; stooped over, deep lines in his face from the side angle I can see, and only a few strands of gray hair. His lips move silently as he scribbles within the chalk circle on the ground.

    Another pitfall of magic. With small spells, the equations are simple enough that you can memorize them, substituting a value here or there when needed. For the big stuff though, the whole thing is scrawled out on some surface so the caster can see exactly what they¡¯re doing. After all, if even a single digit is wrong in what can amount to hundreds of numbers, the spell could blow up in their face. Bye-bye caster.

    So, the madman is not so mad that he forgets to be cautious. There goes my best chance at escape. Someone might wonder why I, the self-proclaimed talented caster, does not simply throw around some magic to free myself.

    The answer to that is simple. I was lazy. Lazy and rebellious, a terrible combination. As soon as I learned what my father had planned for me, the only way I could resist was by slacking off. Pretending to pay attention to the lessons and then promptly forgetting the information. Skipping my tutoring sessions.

    As a result, the only thing I can cast with any confidence is a small bit of flame. The very basics of basics. Won¡¯t do me much good. I mean, what¡¯s that going to do against iron shackles? Right.

    That¡¯s not to say I didn¡¯t pick up anything. I picked up summoning. Mainly because it¡¯s the only thing my father is passionate about, the only thing in his life that isn¡¯t clouded by his bitterness at his peers. When we talked about summoning, I felt like we were family rather than a farmer and his prized pig.

    So, I know my summoning. And that¡¯s a summoning circle my kidnapper is scribbling in right now.

    Summoning is a very simple art. There are several planes besides our own. The circle is an invitation to these other planes. If it is answered, an elemental steps through. If the summoner plays their cards right, said elemental forms a pact with them and becomes a very valuable companion.

    If the summoner plays their cards wrong, they get eaten. The definition of high risk-high reward.

    The key to summoning is getting the kind of creature you want in your circle. That¡¯s decided by the affinity variable and the mana coefficient. One determines what plane the elemental is pulled from, the other how strong it is.

    This guy has the cosmic attribute scribbled there and a coefficient next to it that says greater than five thousand. That¡¯s beyond strong. That¡¯s so strong, I can¡¯t even properly grasp how strong it is.

    It¡¯s a god, isn¡¯t it? An elemental so powerful it can reshape the world. There¡¯s no way a man can control something like that. This guy is insane. He¡¯s going to get himself killed. Pitifully.

    To get a contract with an elemental, you have to offer them something for their service. Something, if not equal, at least interesting.

    What does he possibly have to offer a cosmic affinity being who, at its level, could probably bend time and space?

    Seriously. I need to know. This is interesting. Never mind the fact that I¡¯m going to die soon to power this spell. No point in worrying about it.

    I hope it''s not instantaneous because I want to see how this is going to play out. I bet his death is going to be spectacular. Will this elemental crush him like a bug? Throw him clear into the null dimension? Oooo, maybe he¡¯ll just explode into glittering dust. That would be very nice.

    I bet this idiot thinks he¡¯s safe. People misunderstand summoning and summoning circles a lot. They think that as long as a circle is up, the elemental is trapped on this plane. That¡¯s wrong. As long as a circle is powered the elemental cannot move on this plane. Nothing is stopping them from going home.

    And powering the circle. People think that you just have to charge some mana into it and wham. Inescapable prison. Ah, no. That¡¯s not how it works. Yes, the summoner doesn¡¯t have to be stronger, or even equal, to the elemental they¡¯re summoning.

    The key number is 0.1. That¡¯s the ratio of caster to elemental mana that needs to be charged into the circle for it to hold the creature.

    Now, no offense to this guy, but I don¡¯t think he has a coefficient of 500. That¡¯s a master level caster right there and those aren¡¯t just allowed to wander off. The kingdom keeps track of them. They have to report in. They certainly wouldn¡¯t be able to kidnap girls off the road.

    He¡¯s probably an untrained idiot who read about summoning somewhere and thought it might be a good way to get a whole bunch of power really quickly.

    Yeah, this is going to be good.

    Oh, great. He¡¯s finished drawing his circle. Let the show begin.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 2

    The idiot moves around the room, taking girls down. They try to fight but for skin and bones, the idiot¡¯s pretty strong. He wrestles them onto the floor without a problem and lays them on the edge of the circle, kicking those who try to squirm away.

    When my turn comes, I simply go limp and lay in my place quietly. Fighting for survival when your chances are hopeless is stupid. I can¡¯t muster the willpower to do so. If I¡¯m going to die, I¡¯ll do it with dignity. And I won¡¯t die alone. The idiot will soon join me.

    The circle would have fallen without help before but now it¡¯s definitely going to fall. I mean, this guy makes a circle out of chalk and then places moving objects on top of it. The line is going to get smudged. It is inevitable.

    Now, not only will he have a weak circle, it¡¯ll be incomplete.

    Yup, he¡¯s so dead.

    Ah, the knife. He¡¯s going around stabbing the girls. A deep jab to the side to get them bleeding. Alright, not a total idiot. At least he knows that mana is concentrated in the blood. Spilling it on a circle can power it with a drop of mana from the caster to activate it.

    My turn with the knife comes. I scream. So much for dying with dignity but I can¡¯t help it. Getting stabbed hurts. And my side aches so much. I can feel the life leaving me. This sucks.

    But it¡¯s about to get better.

    His preparations complete, the idiot kneels in the middle of the circle and places his fingers gently on the chalk lettering. The white outline begins to glow along with our pooling blood. Wah, this is pretty. This guy has the water affinity. Which is stupid for the spell because elementals can only contract with those who share their affinity but the pale blue shimmers are beautiful. At least I get to see something beautiful before I die.

    ¡°Great spirit!¡± the idiot shouts, his voice echoing. We must be underground. That¡¯d be good to know if I planned to escape from this. But I don¡¯t so it doesn¡¯t matter. ¡°I summon thee to this realm to grant my wish!¡±

    Grant your wish? What the heck? Does this guy think summoning is like saying a prayer on the dawn of a new year, but that it actually gets granted? What? I¡¯m not wrong. He has no idea what he¡¯s doing. This is going to end terribly.

    There it is. A vertical line going down the middle of the circle, a rift between dimensions. The elemental is responding to the summons and coming through to this realm.

    I just realize that this idiot is still standing in the circle. Seriously. What is the matter with you? The whole point of the circle is to keep the elemental away from you until a contract has been made. There¡¯s no point if you¡¯re in the circle.

    This is kind of sad to watch. How can anyone fail at something so completely?

    The elemental arrives. If not for the gag in my mouth, I would whistle in appreciation. It has the shape of a man but its skin is the color of the night sky. Little pinpricks of light peek through the darkness like stars. I watch with interest as they shift, forming moving pictures for the observant.

    People think the more exotic the elemental is, the better. Everyone loves it when someone brings out the firedrake. Real crowd-pleaser. Only the real summoners understand that the humanoids are the power-hitters. Why would something from another dimension look exactly like us? They don¡¯t. What does it mean if it does? It¡¯s really fricking powerful and smart enough to know that a familiar form will put the summoner at ease.

    Here is this clearly non-human creature in the form of an unassuming man, not too tall or wide, with no features. If I was doing this summoning, I would run out of the room. Fast.

    The idiot does no such thing. Instead, he steps right up to the creature and straightens up to his full height. ¡°I am Crowley Cain. I demand to know your name, spirit.¡±

    The elemental tilts its head, gazing about the room. It doesn¡¯t have any features but I just know that it¡¯s confused. Maybe disappointed? Yes. I know because it sighs. That was an unmistakable sigh right there.

    ¡°I answered this call because I wondered who had the gall to summon me after ten thousand years. Thinking about it, I should have known that it would be an idiot, not some great caster. My fault for raising my expectations.¡±

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    Ha! The elemental thinks he¡¯s an idiot too. I like this guy.

    ¡°I said I demand your name!¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. You may call me Cosmo. Now, what do you want from me, Crowley Cain? I surely hope it isn¡¯t a contract. I¡¯d tear you apart if our mana so much as brushed.¡±

    Crowley clears his throat. ¡°Cosmo. As an elemental of the cosmic affinity, you have dominion over time magic. I have demonstrated my worthiness by summoning you. For this, I ask that you turn back time and return to me my youth.¡±

    If it could have, my jaw would have dropped. Wow. This guy. He thinks elementals just grant wishes like¡­like¡­well, like magic. I¡¯m astounded. Truly. I wish I was going to survive this. The bards would love to sing about Crowley Cain. Father would fall out of his chair with laughter.

    ¡°I see.¡± Cosmo is not happy. I can hear the anger in his voice. He is offended. I completely understand. If a bug walked up to me and asked me to sacrifice my vast powers to give it uncountable fortunes, I would be offended too. That¡¯s not how the world works. That¡¯s especially not how summoning works.

    The circle is filled with silence. Crowley, who had been standing with clear anticipation, is shuffling his feet, wondering why he isn¡¯t a spry young man already.

    I don¡¯t want to be rude but can the two of you hurry this up? I¡¯m dying over here. Seriously. I won¡¯t last much longer. My body already feels weak, my head dizzy. I feel like I¡¯m on the verge of going to sleep. A sleep I¡¯ll never wake up from.

    My eyes tear up but I blink them away. No, no, none of that. Already accepted that I¡¯m going to die. Nothing to do about it. Dignity, remember? But before I go, I would like to see this idiot who kidnapped me disappear. That would be great. My dying wish. I know you have no reason to grant it but please, starry night guy?

    As if it can hear me, the being turns toward me. ¡°Very well. Is there any particular way you would like this to be done?¡±

    He¡¯s talking to me, I¡¯m sure of it. Wah. He¡¯s got the mental affinity. Not surprising from a creature with a coefficient of >5000. If you can hear me like I think you can, I would like to see something pretty before I go.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care how you do it,¡± Crowley says excitedly, nearly bouncing on his toes. ¡°Just do it!¡±

    ¡°It shall be done.¡±

    The starry guy, no, Cosmo. I should memorize his name with the few minutes I have left since he¡¯s doing me a favor. Cosmo raises a hand toward Crowley. My idiot kidnapper does nothing, thinking his wish is being granted. He begins to glow from the inside.

    Crowley only has time for his eyes to bulge in surprise before the light bursts forth, turning him into a shower of sparks that gently fall onto the circle.

    Wow, that¡¯s even prettier than I hoped. The way its falling reminds me of the first snow of winter. This is how it would look if snow was made of light rather than water. I want to dance around in it but I¡¯m too weak to move. I¡¯m really tired. Won¡¯t be long before I pass on now.

    Cosmo walks over to me, kneeling so that I can still see his face. His head tilts in a clear gesture of curiosity. ¡°Was that acceptable?¡±

    Yes. It was awesome. If I could do something like that with my fire magic, I would look forward to studying. That¡¯s how you kill someone with style.

    ¡°That¡¯s quite an attitude for someone who just watched another human die.¡±

    Ah. Are you saying I¡¯m a bad person? I might be. Nowhere near as charitable as the saints. I¡¯m glad he¡¯s dead. It would suck if that idiot summoner got to live on while I died. If that makes me a bad person, whatever.

    ¡°How interesting. Unlike that fool, you have a glimmer of potential. Even more astounding is your will. All the others have died, yet you cling to life.¡±

    I knew you were going to kill him. The idiot put in a coefficient of >5000 and he couldn¡¯t even make a proper circle. I wanted to see that. Now? This conversation is interesting and I¡¯m using it as an excuse to stave off going to sleep. I don¡¯t want to die. But I don¡¯t have a choice. I¡¯m getting tired.

    ¡°What if I were to offer you a chance?¡±

    I would ask what you got out of it.

    Cosmo chuckles. ¡°That¡¯s a very good question. Let us say entertainment. You have an interesting personality, some aspects of which I don¡¯t think you even realize yourself. The world has become so boring lately. Stagnating peace fueled by incompetents and cowards. It needs something to spice it up. I think you will do just the trick.¡±

    In that case, I¡¯m in.

    ¡°Oh? No other questions?¡±

    Well, I¡¯ve got a lot more but no time to ask them. I¡¯m dying here.

    ¡°Like I said, very interesting.¡± Cosmo scoops me up with one hand. As he does, I feel my body come to a stop. I can¡¯t move my limbs even a little and my heart no longer thumps in my chest. Even more importantly, blood has stopped spilling from me. That¡¯s effective.

    ¡°This may be a little unsettling. I would like to explain a little of what¡¯s about to happen but I don¡¯t have much time before the powers that be rip me out of this realm and I¡¯m sure you¡¯re going to pass out. Actually, no. This way might be better. Should be interesting watching you flounder about in the beginning.¡±

    I¡¯m still wondering what Cosmo is talking about when suddenly his chest expands and I am thrown inside.

    It¡¯s like falling into a warm pool. Comfortable. Relaxing. Something is tugging at me. I can feel it pulling everywhere, taking me apart at the seams. If this continues, I know I¡¯m going to die. Stupid Cosmo. This better not be a trick. I let my hope grow, you know? I was thinking about how lucky I am to survive this. If I don¡¯t, I¡¯m going to be pissed.

    Not that there¡¯s anything I can do about it once I¡¯m dead.

    My last thought before I am unmade is that this whole situation really does suck.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 3

    I open my eyes to bright sunlight.

    I¡¯m alive! Woohoo!

    Wait¡­am I alive? I¡¯m pretty sure I am. This could be the afterlife. People always say that they see a bright light when they¡¯re dying. Could this be the Paradise the saints speak of?

    ¡­Nah. Can¡¯t be. Only really good people go there. That¡¯s not me. Nope, I¡¯m alive. Is it right to feel disappointed after surviving a near-death experience? It¡¯s not my fault. The whole thing has made me do some serious self-evaluation.

    From now on, I should strive to be a better person. Maybe then I¡¯ll have some good fortune and I can get to the real Paradise.

    Ah, but wait. Being a terrible person is what got Cosmo interested in me and that¡¯s why I¡¯m alive now. Is it alright to be terrible? Universe, you make this too confusing. There should just be something that explains life.

    Shaking my head to clear the whimsical thoughts, I push to my feet. I notice something wrong right away. For some reason, I¡¯m naked. Bare to the world. Cosmo, you pervert. What did you do with my clothes? They were torn and bloody after that idiot stabbed me but they would be better than nothing.

    This sucks. The sun is warm now but without shoes, I¡¯m going to cut my heels on every rock in this place. Saints forbid I¡¯m still out here when night falls. I¡¯ll freeze to death.

    ¡­Hmm? Come to think of it, where am I? The capital is situated in a lush valley. Great for crops but we don¡¯t get many trees. Definitely not the thick mass of giant trunks I¡¯m looking at right now. Crowley couldn¡¯t have taken me too far from the road. I mean, I¡¯m not the heaviest girl in the nobles¡¯ court but that¡¯s over a hundred pounds of dead weight and my would-be murderer was nothing but bones.

    Cosmo, you are getting on my nerves. You have the cosmic attribute. It should have been easy to drop me back home. You put me here, wherever this is, just for laughs, didn¡¯t you?

    Thank you for saving my life but if I see you again, I will slap you.

    Nothing for it but to walk. Hopefully, I¡¯ll stumble upon a landmark that can give me an idea where I am or, even better, a friendly huntsman that will carry me to safety.

    I pick a direction at random and start walking.

    -

    After a few minutes, I conclude that this is not an ordinary forest. The trees that grow near my home are stout things with thick branches and light brown bark. Once, during a trip to the south to visit a friend of my father¡¯s, I saw a fruit farm. Those trees were slim and tall, with long branches that dangled fruit enticingly.

    These trees are a combination of both. The massive trunks are too thick to wrap my arms about, even if they magically doubled in length. Gnarled, twisted roots peeking out of the soil are obscured by dead leaves and low shrubs, making them treacherous to navigate. Thousands of branches spiral upwards, interlocking so closely it looks like a spider has spun her web in the sky.

    But the most surprising thing is the trees¡¯ colors. Most of them are brown but there are some unnatural colors mixed in; silver, gold, even a few greens and a single pink.

    What the heck is this place? Ah, I wish I had paid a little more attention to my lessons. The trees should be obvious clues to where I am but I have no idea.

    My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a branch snapping. I freeze but I don¡¯t immediately turn around. That sounds stupid but I have a very good reason. If I turn around, then I come face to face with whatever is behind me. I can¡¯t pretend that it¡¯s a harmless little rabbit or a cute squirrel. It might be one of those things but it most likely isn¡¯t and the moment I see it, I have to deal with that. I really don¡¯t want to have to deal with that.

    The growl at my back makes up my mind. Swallowing, I turn my head. Yeah, that¡¯s not a rabbit or a squirrel.

    That¡¯s a wolf.

    Aw, it¡¯s cute!

    The little canine barely comes up to my knee, even counting its ears that jut upwards. Dark green fluffy fur makes its lean body softer, its big eyes a shade lighter and almost glossy. A long tail wags excitedly as it trots over, tongue lolling as it pants.

    Here I am, trapped in a strange forest, bare to the world. No rational person would stop to pet the wild, though incredibly adorable, animal.

    Once again, I am forced into more uncomfortable self-evaluation as I crouch down, sticking out my hands as I coo at the little wolf. My heart does a little jump when it comes jaunting over. I can¡¯t believe it. Animals never like me. I don¡¯t know how I¡¯m going to take care of the little guy, but I¡¯m definitely-

    *Chomp*

    ¡°Son of a-¡±

    I snatch my bleeding hand back, holding it against my chest as I scramble backward. The green wolf swallows something and its tail begins to wag faster. My stomach twists but I can¡¯t stop myself from looking down. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be good but the sight of my missing middle and ring finger is still shocking.

    The wolf bares its teeth in an expression that eerily resembles a smile. Is this thing intelligent? Had it played me from the start? Suddenly, the bright green eyes are more creepy than cute.

    I have a bad feeling about this.

    My feeling is almost immediately confirmed when the wolf begins to growl threateningly. Its small body makes a surprisingly deep sound. Saliva wets the fur around its muzzle as its body tenses, preparing to strike.

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    This is when magic comes in handy. A nice, big fireball to scare the puppy away. Make him think twice about having me as a meal. If I make it back home, I will never take my studies lightly again.

    Right now, I only have one option.

    I turn and run.

    The wolf runs after me. It¡¯s fast. It catches me within seconds, tackling me to the ground as its claws tear into my back. Screaming, I manage to turn, my good hand pushing against the side of its head to keep its jaws away from my throat.

    Powered by sheer desperation, I get a leg between me and the wolf, pressing the flat of my foot against its belly and kicking out with all my might.

    The wolf yelps as it¡¯s thrown into the air, the miniature beast slamming into the trunk of a tree several meters away before crumpling to the ground.

    ¡­Huh?

    I sit up and stare at my legs wonderingly. What the heck? Since when was I that strong? Did Cosmo do this too? I might have to take back my promise to slap him. That was amazing!

    The wolf slowly pushes to its feet. It¡¯s watching me with cautious eyes now. I push to my feet and stare down at it haughtily. I mean, if I¡¯m this strong, I don¡¯t have to be afraid of this thing, do I? Bring it, pup.

    It does not bring it. Instead, it tilts its muzzle up and howls, the sound echoing through the trees wonderfully. I¡¯m pretty sure I could hear that on the opposite side of the forest. I get a sinking feeling.

    The feeling is confirmed moments later when an answering howl reaches us. It called for reinforcements. Suddenly, it looks a lot less cautious and I feel a lot less confident. I¡¯d even go so far as to say that the wolf is smiling at me again. It¡¯s not very friendly.

    I might be able to take on one of these guys but I don¡¯t know how many he called. What the heck am I going to do if I¡¯m surrounded by four? Or five? Or ten?

    Nope. Can¡¯t do that. Super strength or not.

    Back to plan A.

    I keep running.

    I can hear the wolf crashing through the trees after me but it doesn¡¯t tackle me, preferring to keep a distance until help arrives. He doesn¡¯t have to wait along. After a minute, I can see other shapes darting through the trees, keeping pace with me.

    This is bad. If I just keep running, I¡¯m going to be cornered and eaten. What a terrible way to die. There has to be a way out of this.

    My eyes move up to the branches. Well, of course. Wolves can¡¯t climb. If I can just get up onto one of those branches, I¡¯m home free.

    The only problem? The lowest branch is far above me. Level with the roof of my house. I¡¯d have to find purchases in the very smooth looking bark and climb up to it.

    Wolves might not be able to climb but they can jump. I doubt they will just let me struggle for handholds while I¡¯m trying to escape them.

    But wait. My legs are stronger now. Can I jump that high? It seems impossible but it¡¯s the only chance I have to get out of this alive. I don¡¯t see any other option. No choice but to try.

    I spot a branch that¡¯s as low as it¡¯s going to get, tense my legs, and jump with all my might.

    I soar through the air. Whoo! I¡¯m seriously amazing. The branch I aimed for is getting closer and closer. I can almost reach it-

    But then I feel my momentum shift. I stop climbing upwards. There is a fraction of a second where I am completely still. That¡¯s when I know I¡¯m screwed.

    Then, I start to fall.

    Oh, no. This is the worst possible situation. I¡¯m falling straight down. The wolves know this. They have come out of the trees and are standing in a circle around where I will land. The moment I get into their range, I¡¯m finished.

    If only my arms were longer. The branch was right there! Now it''s shrinking. If only I could just stretch a little. I need to reach that branch!

    A weird feeling goes through my body. The skin on my right arm ripples, the smooth, bronzed skin losing its color. It changes into the star-studded black of Cosmo. Then it reaches out. My dark limb latches onto the branch and wraps around it.

    I swing in midair as my fall is halted and stare dumbly up at my arm. Is it my arm? I don¡¯t know. It doesn¡¯t look like an arm. It¡¯s more like¡­a tentacle? It is rounded at the tip.

    No, no. Now¡¯s not the time. Below me, the wolves are circling, staring up at me. One of them leaps for it. I pull my legs up to my chest as its jaws snap close to where my ankle would have been.

    Wow. You guys are very athletic. And determined. Seriously, why are you guys still here? I mean, shouldn¡¯t you be off looking for easier prey? It¡¯s not good to be too stubborn.

    Ah. The jumper is looking antsy. Is he going to try again? Can he reach me? I need to get onto that branch. But, hmm. How do I move this tentacle thing? Does it work like an arm? Can I retract it?

    As I imagine the action I want to take, a ripple goes through the tentacle and it starts to retract, slowly pulling me up to the branch. I¡¯m delighted. This is cool. If I think too hard about it, I will freak out. After all, I am wielding an alien appendage. But right now, it¡¯s saving my life and as long as I focus on that, it¡¯s cool.

    I reach the branch and grab it with my other hand, hauling myself onto it and pressing my back against the trunk. The branch is thick enough that I don¡¯t have to worry about accidentally falling off if I lean the wrong way but still, I wrap my legs around it tightly for security.

    The wolves are circling the trunk of the tree restlessly. I smile down at them. Haha. I win. You lose. Scatter like good beaten puppies.

    Now that my life isn¡¯t in danger, I study my strange arm. Yeah, that¡¯s a tentacle. I brush my fingers over the smooth surface. Saints, it feels better than silk. It¡¯s really out of this world.

    With a thought, I wrap it around my opposite hand, clasping them in a sort of handshake. It¡¯s quite sensitive too. I''m aware of even the slightest amount of pressure along it. Not painful exactly, just¡­very present.

    It¡¯s also very malleable. Besides the way it stretched for me to reach the branch, I can curl it backwards toward my shoulder in a ball. Couldn¡¯t do that with bones. I can even whip it out.

    That is almost a mistake. I hit the branch I am sitting on and it snaps right off. My resting place becomes unstable so I hastily move to a higher branch. Okay. The tentacle is very strong. Be careful where I throw it out. Got it.

    The more I experiment with it, the more useful this thing seems. It can take any shape. All I need is a clear image. A ball, a square, a hammer, and even a sword, the rounded end sharpening into a point that easily cuts deeply into the tree. Next time a wolf jumps out at me, it¡¯s going to be in for a nasty surprise.

    Then the questions start coming. How did this happen? What is it? Is it just my arm? If my legs are these tentacles, it would explain why I was able to push the wolf off me. But if they are, why do they look like normal legs? And they don¡¯t just look like normal legs. They feel like normal legs. If I get cut, it stings and I bleed red blood.

    Is it that? Did Cosmo turn me into some kind of shapeshifter? Or did he just strengthen my body? One is cool and the other is completely terrifying. I need to find out.

    The tentacle is activated by thought. Maybe if I just think it? Just try to imagine my whole body as the silky-smooth material.

    My body shakes. The world changes. My point of view narrows as my range of vision expands. A barrage of sensory input bombards me, too much to process. Then the stomach-churning flood of information drains away and the world becomes recognizable.

    Everything looks bigger but I doubt the forest had a major growth spurt in the last couple of moments. Did I shrink?

    My heartbeat is gone. I can¡¯t feel it thumping reliably in my chest. For that matter, I can¡¯t feel much of anything. Whenever I try to flex a muscle, all I get is a subtle ripple through my body.

    I try to raise my hands and two long tentacles appear in front of me. When I look down at my feet, all I see is a puddle of the star-studded black ooze that defines my arms. At this point, my head is swimming dangerously but I can¡¯t help it. I look down at the rest of my body.

    Seamless ooze. That¡¯s all I am.

    I¡¯m not human anymore.

    The buzzing in my head reaches a fervor point and darkness rushes in to claim me.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 4

    I fainted. I¡¯m not ashamed. Anyone would be shocked to discover that suddenly they are no longer human. It was a perfectly natural response to becoming star-studded ooze.

    To my credit, I couldn¡¯t have blacked out for that long. After all, everything looks the same when I open my eyes. Including myself. I am still a blob.

    Now that the original shock is over, I feel numb. I¡¯m not human anymore. I don¡¯t think that has dawned on me yet. Somewhere down the road, I¡¯m going to scream my head off but at the moment, I¡¯m not thinking about it. Probably because I have bigger problems.

    One, I¡¯m still lost in a mysterious forest with no idea how to get home. Two, the wolves are still at the base of the tree. A few are lying down and others pace through the area but two are staring up at my branch intently, waiting for me to make a move. Seriously, why are you all so persistent? Just go home already.

    But my other problem might be the most serious of them all.

    I¡¯m starting to feel hungry.

    -

    This isn¡¯t good. Apparently, hunger is different when you¡¯re¡­whatever I am. It doesn¡¯t feel like a simple pinch. I don¡¯t know how long it has been since I last ate but this hurts. It¡¯s not a constant feeling. Every couple of minutes, I feel a moment of intense pain deep in my center. Some instinct I¡¯m not aware of is telling me that I need to eat but that raises some problems of its own.

    I don¡¯t have a mouth. I checked. My entire surface is smooth. I have no idea how I can see or hear anything but that¡¯s not important. I need to figure out how to eat. I¡¯m dying. Seriously dying.

    Stupid wolves.  Because of you, I can¡¯t get down from here to search for food. Clever dogs. You can¡¯t catch me so you¡¯re going to starve me to death. Did you know this would happen? Do you know what I am? I wish I could talk to you so I could get some answers. Then again, I doubt you would be very friendly.

    First I was stabbed, then I was chased by wild animals, and now I¡¯m starving to death. Am I cursed? Do I have the mark of death? The magic community as a whole doesn¡¯t think some spells or affinities can affect luck but that is the only explanation for this. No one just has this much bad luck in a day naturally.

    Another pang hits me and I curl into a ball. This is getting really painful. I can¡¯t. If it weren¡¯t so bad, I would linger but I can¡¯t endure this pain. I have to find something to eat. Even if it means taking my chances against the pack. My new body seems pretty strong and flexible. I¡¯ve never been in a life or death fight before, but maybe desperation will get me through. Either way, I¡¯m dead so I might as well fight.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    I remember thinking that fighting for your life is unseemly. That¡¯s only when you have no chance of winning. I have a chance, no matter how small it is. So, I¡¯ll fight. Here we go. It¡¯s do or die.

    Before I move away from my tree, one of the wolves yelps in pain and falls onto its side. Gripping my branch with an tentacle, I carefully lean over the side. My vision must have improved because even several feet away, I can see the arrow sticking out of it, down to the bright feathers used as fletching.

    The other wolves quickly rally but whoever the archer is, they are good. And fast. Before the lounging wolves get to their feet, arrows go through their eyes, killing them instantly. The next one to go is the other one keeping a watchful eye on me. Three arrows hit it at once; one in the neck, one through the leg, the other through the chest. It doesn¡¯t even have time to yelp as it hits the ground.

    Seeing the decimation of the pack, the ones lingering within the trees quickly turn tail and run. I would cheer if I had a mouth. The best I manage is an excited wiggle. I imagine it would look a bit strange if anyone sees me, a blob of ooze bobbing back and forth.

    After the departure of the wolves, the archer steps into view. A cloak made out of one of the wolves¡¯ pelts makes them nearly indistinguishable from the grass as they approached low to the ground. I don¡¯t notice them at all until they are halfway to my tree. Wah. That¡¯s dangerous. That kind of stealth combined with their range. This is a seriously dangerous hunter.

    The archer moves to each of the wolves body, confirming death and collecting their arrows. When they finish, they tilt their head upwards. I scoot closer to the trunk of the tree, flattening my body against it. While I¡¯m glad the wolves are dead, I don¡¯t know whether this archer is friendly and unlike the beasts, those arrows can hit me.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± a soft voice says. ¡°You must be scared. These spiteful creatures are the worst, hunting the forest¡¯s weakest animals for sport and game.¡±

    Ah, so that¡¯s what it was? They thought I was the easiest meal around. I¡¯m offended but what can I say? I am a small fry.

    The archer has a very friendly voice. I want to trust them. It should be okay. Ooo! Maybe they even have something for me to eat!

    That thought settles it. Wrapping a tentacle on my branch, I lengthen it and slowly lower myself to the ground.

    The archer is troubled by my appearance. I know this because they hastily back up a step when I reach the ground and retract my tentacle. I can¡¯t be very threatening. I mean, I only come up to this person¡¯s waist. Still, it has to be unusual seeing an ooze like me.

    After we stare at each other for a few moments, the archer rallies and reclaims that step they took backward, kneeling in front of me. They pull back their hood, exposing their face.

    If I had a jaw, it would be dropped in shock. That pale skin tinged with a hint of green that darkens around the edges of their face. The silver hair. The sharp ears that jut out through the locks.

    Why? This is an elf. A hundred percent elf. The world is inhabited by several different races but they all live separately, claiming separate continents for themselves. The human continent is the westernmost in the world. Elves are our neighbors but they¡¯re far to the south. The only way to reach them is-

    Oh. Oh, no. Ah, crap. I remember the colorful trees. Why didn¡¯t I put it together immediately? I¡¯ve seen them before, in a book in my father¡¯s study. This is the Enchanted Forest, the strip of land that connects the human and elven continents.

    Wow, I am so far from home.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 5

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re trembling.¡± The elf reaches a hand out to me cautiously. She touches my skin with the tip of her fingers, cooing in delight. ¡°You¡¯re so soft.¡± Unreserved, she grabs a handful of me. I can feel the pressure but it isn¡¯t painful no matter how much she squeezes. The way I stretch especially seems to delight her.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like you in the forest before!¡± The elf scoops me up and hugs me to her chest, rubbing her cheek against me. ¡°How about it, hmm? Do you want to come with me?¡±

    Maybe. That depends on if you can feed me. Really, I¡¯m so hungry I would eat dirt if it filled me up. I would. Feed me, kind elf lady. Please. I will follow you anywhere if you do.

    Though, this hug is comfortable. The cloak she¡¯s wearing hides her figure. Her chest is pretty large. It¡¯s like being pressed against two pillows-

    No, no. Food. Got to focus on food. I begin to squirm until the elf lets me go.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You don¡¯t want to come with me?¡± Her mouth turns down in a pout. I¡¯m just now noticing this but this woman is beautiful. Those big eyes are drilling holes into the heart I don¡¯t have. Poor you. Your life must have been riddled with hardships. Such is the fate of those born blessed. But right now, could you help me with my hardship?

    I raise my tentacle hands to where I think my face should be and mime eating. The elf frowns deeply but eventually, her eyes light with understanding. ¡°Oh! Are you hungry?¡±

    Yes! I throw my hands up and bounce excitedly. Feed me, kind elf!

    She laughs at my display and pulls a pack out from under her cloak. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll like them but I have some berries here.¡± She reaches her hand into the pack and pulls out a handful of bright blue berries. They look tasty but, again, I still don¡¯t know how to eat with this body.

    I reach out a tentacle, separating it in two to grasp the berry and hold it up in front of me speculatively. If I can see I have eyes, right? And if I can hear, I have ears, right? Even though I don¡¯t know how to use it, I should have a mouth, right? That makes sense. Let¡¯s just try to¡­put this where my mouth should be. And¡­push it forward?

    Oh. It went through. The small berry floats inside me for a moment. Then it dissolves. Taste explodes through my awareness.

    Thank the saints, I won¡¯t starve! I quickly grab the rest of the berries and push them inside me. They dissolve just as quickly and the sweet juices coat my taste buds. Wherever they are. Whatever. I can taste and these are great. Fresh.

    ¡­But they¡¯re really small. I¡¯m still hungry.

    I hold out my hands pleadingly to the elf and she sets the pack on the ground. I quickly scoop out the berries but its still not enough. The pangs aren¡¯t so bad but I¡¯m nowhere near filled.

    There has to be something. Anything else.

    I turn around and my gaze settles on the corpses of the wolves. Could I? It¡¯s meat. Uncooked meat but then again, I¡¯m not human so maybe that¡¯s no longer an issue.

    I have to try. There¡¯s nothing else around besides grass and trees. And the elf. Even if I could, I wouldn¡¯t eat her. For one, that¡¯s just disturbing and for two, she was nice to me.

    I move toward the wolves, which is an experience of its own. Since I¡¯m a blob, I don¡¯t walk. It¡¯s more of a slither but I¡¯m moderately fast. I come to one of the corpses. It¡¯s really big. I can¡¯t just plop it inside me like a berry.

    Oh, but wait. I can stretch, can¡¯t I? Okay then. Here this goes. I wrap a tentacle over the wolf and use it as leverage to pull myself onto its side. Then I stretch as far as I can. Surprisingly, it doesn¡¯t take much effort. In no time, I surround the wolf. Once it is fully inside me, it dissolves quickly. Thirty seconds to eat the entire thing. Wow. I¡¯m a beast.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    And I¡¯m not full. The pangs have stopped but I know I can eat more. Though I was born a noble, my socializing among the servants and the commoners about the manor ensured I have a very good grasp on how scarce resources are for some. If there is food, I prefer not to let it go to waste.

    In that spirit, I move to the next wolf corpse. It is even easier to swallow this one. I make quick work of the rest and settle down contentedly. I am still not full. Apparently, I have a huge stomach but I have a feeling that I won¡¯t have to worry about food for a while.

    ¡°You all done?¡±

    The elf lady comes over to me. Hmm? Did I get bigger? Instead of coming to her waist, I¡¯m nearly at her shoulder. Ooo. That explains a lot. Instead of getting full, I get bigger?

    That¡­could be troublesome.

    I want to thank her but I still haven¡¯t worked out how to talk. Instead, I do my little wiggle. She appears to like that as she hugs me again. Though this time, she leans into me rather than pulling me against her. I take the weight easily and she giggles as her body goes horizontal.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you seem happy now but you could have given me some warning before you started eating. Those pelts could have been useful.¡±

    Oh no. I didn¡¯t mean to disappoint you. If only I could¡­hmm. This new body of mine is strange. Really. When I think about the wolves¡¯ pelts, I can feel something. Like a menu inside my head. On it is a series of different number groups. I know instinctively that the first grouping is my human form and the second is the wolves I just consumed. Uwaa. I really am a shapeshifter.

    I want to give the elf lady her pelts for helping me but turning to a wolf to get skinned just sounds awful. But maybe¡­

    Focusing on the wolf¡¯s structure, I can differentiate between its makeup. The elf lets go of me as fur erupts across my surface. Okay, I can do that. I¡¯ve read that slimes can drop a smaller part of themselves to run away when threatened. I kind of look like them. Are we cousins? Maybe I can separate a part of myself like they do?

    Yup. I can do that. With a shrugging type maneuver, I shed the skin and a perfect pelt is left on the ground. Yes! That is extremely weird but awesome at the same time. This body is growing on me. More importantly, I can thank the kind elf who saved me.

    She hesitates seeing the pelt but I wiggle excitedly, waving at it with my stubby arms. Finally, she pinches it between two fingers and holds it up, amazed.

    ¡°Incredible.¡± She grins down at me and pets my head. ¡°You¡¯re the best skinner I¡¯ve ever seen. That means a lot coming from an elf. You should be proud.¡±

    I am. Elves are considered the best gamekeepers in the world. To be praised by one of them is quite an accomplishment.

    ¡°How about it? You want to come with me?¡±

    Hmm. Let me see. Follow the beautiful elf who can most likely get me out of this forest and on my way back home or move through the woods by myself and get preyed on by wolves and whatever nasty creatures are in these trees?

    I quickly move toward her, wrapping my arms about her waist. The elf laughs. ¡°Okay.¡± She folds the pelt up and stuffs it into her pack. ¡°Since we¡¯re friends now, we should introduce ourselves. You seem to understand me clear enough. My name is Kierra D¡¯Atainna. Do you have a name?¡±

    I was anticipating this. If it is something as simple as telling her my name then I can circumvent my speech impediment.

    Backing out of the hug, I turn my tentacle into a point and begin to draw on the ground. Kierra leans over curiously, her brows coming down as she reads the characters. ¡°Lourianne?¡±

    I bend in half trying to nod, then draw a line through the top half of my name.

    ¡°Lou? Is that what you¡¯re called?¡±

    Ah. Beautiful and smart. Doubly blessed, doubly cursed. You and I are the same, kind elf. One day, we should drink our sorrows away together.

    ¡°Okay, Lou. Nice to meet you. I don¡¯t want to start our friendship off the wrong way, but why do you have a human name?¡±

    Yes! What a perfect lead in to tell her I need to go home. I brush away my name and prepare myself to write out my story¡­

    Then something strikes me. I have my old body¡¯s template in my head. I can go back to being human.

    I am an idiot. Why didn¡¯t I do that ages ago? Thinking about my old form, the menu pops back into my head. I focus on the first grouping of numbers, willing myself to return to my original form. A ripple goes through my body and I can feel myself rearranging.

    A second later, I stand up, blinking rapidly. I bring my hands up to my face. They¡¯re back and I grin as I wiggle each finger, the ones bit off by the vicious little dog healed and whole. Looking down, I have normal legs and normal toes.

    ¡°YES!¡± I shout excitedly, dancing in place. I¡¯m lost in my own emotions for several moments. Feeling an intense gaze on my back makes me turn around and I remember that I''m not alone.

    Kierra is staring at me with an unreadable expression. Watching her eyes flick across my skin reminds me that I¡¯m naked and my face heats up in embarrassment as I cross my hands over my chest. ¡°Um¡­could you not stare at me so hard?¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 6

    ¡°You¡­you were¡­and now you¡¯re¡­¡± Her hands flounder about as she tries to come to terms with the impossibility of what she is seeing. Shapeshifters aren¡¯t exactly rare but such extreme change boggles the mind. I should know. I fainted.

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story. Well, it¡¯s not that long but it¡¯s confusing.¡±

    She¡¯s still staring at me. Wah, her eyes are really pretty. They¡¯re bright green with flecks of amber in them that glow a bright gold when the light hits them. It reminds me of tall grass in the summer. Peaceful. I could stare at them forever¡­if I weren¡¯t naked. This is embarrassing.

    Oh, wait. I can grow fur, can¡¯t I? But does that still work with my human body?

    Reaching into my mind, I find the menu. It¡¯s even easier to separate them now. A carpet of green fur sprouts across my body. With a thought, I make it thicker across my chest and waist. It''s not clothing but it hides the important bits. And this is comfortable. Really starting to like this new body.

    Kierra¡¯s mind is completely blown. Her eyes look ready to pop out of her skull. I smile at her and stick out a hand. ¡°Once again, I¡¯m Lou. Thanks for saving me back there. I thought I was going to get eaten.¡±

    The elf looks at my hand as if she¡¯s waiting for it to turn into something new. When it doesn¡¯t, she grasps it with her own.

    I yelp as I¡¯m pulled forward but calm down when I realize she¡¯s only petting me. It feels good as her nails go across my scalp. I close my eyes and lean into it, humming in pleasure. Ah, this is relaxing. No wonder hounds and the like fall asleep from this. I¡¯m starting to feel a little drowsy.

    The hand moves away from my head. I open my eyes to see Kierra smiling at me again. The worries have disappeared from her eyes. That¡¯s good. I don¡¯t want my savior to be afraid of me. After all, I¡¯m counting on her to get me back home.

    ¡°You¡¯re a strange creature, Lou,¡± she says with a little chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen, or even heard, of anything like you.¡±

    ¡°What can I say, I¡¯m one of a kind.¡±

    ¡°This short but confusing story. Do I get to hear it?¡±

    ¡°Of course. It ties into the favor I¡¯m going to ask you that I hope you can grant for me.¡±

    Kierra laughs. ¡°You¡¯re very blunt.¡±

    ¡°Very.¡± It¡¯s not my fault. My father brought in tutors to teach me the proper ways of court manners and the deceptive way of speaking that comes with them but, as I said, I slacked off. That, combined with too many nights sneaking off to town to drink in the taverns and you have the very uncultured noble that is me. ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Kierra shushes me by putting a finger to my lips. ¡°Not here. We¡¯re still in the middle of a dangerous forest. Let¡¯s go back to my home.¡±

    I nod and she moves her hand to grasp mine. Then she tugs me along as she moves through the forest.

    -

    Kierra¡¯s home is a tree. I wouldn¡¯t have believed someone could live in one but there is a door in the middle of its wide trunk, hidden by a  blanket of woven vines draping down from its lowest branches. The camouflage is perfect. No one would be the wiser if they didn¡¯t know what they were looking for.

    The inside has been hollowed out. While the room isn¡¯t large, about twenty feet by twenty feet, there are several levels. A ladder allows access up.

    The bottom floor seems to be a welcoming and relaxing room. It¡¯s decorated with woven mats covered with furs, the walls with hunting trophies. Wah. I was right. The elf is quite the huntress. Skulls of all kinds and sizes hang off huge wooden thorns nailed into the walls. Each of them have vicious looking teeth, one with canines as long as my arm. Yeesh.

    ¡°Come on, up here.¡± Kierra waves me over to the ladder and begins to climb. I follow her to the second level. This is clearly her room. A mat larger than the others and covered with several furs is pushed into the corner. On the wall, there is a spare wooden bow. Beneath that is a long table where half-finished arrows rest, a crate beside it holding dozens of completed ones. The opposite wall has another table. This one seems to be a crafting table as several small wooden figurines rest along the edge, a collection of knives hanging on the wall above them.

    I sit down cross-legged in the middle of the floor as Kierra moves through the space, relaxing. She takes off her quiver and leans it against the wall before she hangs her bow next to the spare. Then she takes off her cloak and lays it across her fletching table.

    Underneath, she wears a shoulder-less dress woven out of plant fibers with a short skirt that flares widely to allow for movement. The garment shows off her ample chest and long, toned legs in the best way. I find myself swallowing past a dry mouth as I stare at the smooth expanse of exposed skin on display.

    Those trips I took to the local tavern? They did more than enlighten me about the local economy. Commoners, especially farmers near my family¡¯s estate, have a tough life full of hard work. They take their pleasures where they can get them and unlike nobles, could give a fig less how it looks to anybody else.

    As a result, I saw all manner of relationships. Heh. First time I saw one of the barmaids kissing the blacksmith¡¯s daughter, I nearly choked on the sip of ale I¡¯d been swallowing. Ever since then, the way I look at other women changed. I''ve never dared to try my hand. Prized pig or not, my father wouldn¡¯t just sit back and let that go if he found out. The only thing more important to a noble than their status is their heirs. But I always wondered.

    Sitting in the room across from this gorgeous elf, hundreds of miles from my father¡¯s reach, that wondering is running rampant. My fingers itch to undo the strings of the dress as Kierra walks to her makeshift bed and lays down on it. The way she lounges on her side is not helping matters. The dim light casts a shadow over her eyes that makes them dark and mysterious while her fingers lightly brush over the furs. As if she¡¯s inviting me to come over. No, that¡¯s just my wishful thinking.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°I believe¡­¡± Kierra props her head up with a hand as a sly smile curves her lips upward. ¡°¡­you promised me a story.¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± Taking a deep breath, I launch into my tale. The only thing I leave out is Cosmo¡¯s name. Elementals are very picky about their names. A human needs to know their true name to form a contract but that¡¯s about all we can do with it. However, if another elemental gets ahold of it, apparently they can do some real damage. Even giving out a fraction of the name is taboo. Better to be safe than sorry. I do not want Cosmo angry with me under any circumstances.

    When I get to the stabbing part of my story, I make sure to play up the terror, hoping to get some sympathy points. Sure enough, Kierra¡¯s expression turns down into a grimace, her eyes shining with pity. They light with curious excitement as I tell her about what Cosmo did.

    I conclude with waking up in the forest and she nods. ¡°I see. That must have been confusing for you. And the part about being swallowed by an elemental¡­could you come here for a moment?¡±

    She holds out her hand. My heart stutters in my chest as my imagination applies the gesture to a very different situation. I do my best to put the imaginings aside as I get to my feet and pad over. Kierra grabs my hand and guides me to kneel on the furs.

    ¡°Could you revert? To your¡­elemental form?¡±

    Ah. There goes any chance at romantic developments. Oh well. Reverting to the blob is a little different than taking my human form. Rather than focusing on what I want to become, I simply relax. A weight I didn¡¯t know I was carrying slips off the shoulders I no longer have as I become gelatinous and I sigh inwardly.

    I¡¯m not human anymore. I know this but constantly being reminded of the fact is going to take some time getting used to.

    Kierra runs her hands over me, pinching and massaging. She tugs me toward her and I comply, sliding over until I am pressed against her. The elf throws her leg over me and squeezes me in a full-body hug.

    Hmm? This is¡­I can feel her. My surface, whatever it is, is very sensitive and I can feel every inch of her. Probably more than I would in my human form as I bend to fill every nook and cranny. A part of me is being squeezed between her thighs. I can feel the cotton-like fabric of her underwear. This is getting me excited. Is it weird for blobs to get excited?

    Ah. I just need to not think about it. Um-hmm. Cause if I do, I might move and brush against something I shouldn¡¯t. I¡¯m not thinking about it. Not at all.

    Kierra is doing something. Her fingers are still tracing over me but now the ends are glowing bright green. Is that some kind of spell? Should I be worried? I don¡¯t think she would hurt me and whatever it is, it doesn¡¯t hurt. Please don¡¯t turn out to be some crazy who lured me back to her home to kill me or eat me or something just as terrifying. Though it would fit in with my rotten luck lately, it would really, really suck.

    ¡°Amazing. You are an elemental. Or at the very least, partially. Some part of you must still be mortal, otherwise, you couldn¡¯t exist on this plane.¡±

    That spell must have been some kind of scan. And hey! She said I¡¯m still human! Or at least, some part of me is. That¡¯s good. Knowing that the person I was hasn¡¯t been completely destroyed is comforting.

    ¡°Besides that, you are comfortable.¡± She lets me go and scoots over. ¡°Go ahead and change back. You need a voice to ask me this favor of yours.¡±

    I comply, changing back to my human form and then growing fur to cover my nakedness. ¡°Right. The favor I want to ask is very simple. I just need to get to the edge of the forest that borders the human continent. I¡¯m pretty sure I can get back on my own after that.¡±

    Kierra sighs deeply. Oh no. I know that expression. My nursemaid would give me the same one whenever I asked for extra snacks and she was about to turn me down.

    ¡°Lou, I want to help you but I can¡¯t. At least, not yet.¡±

    I knew it. ¡°Um, I don¡¯t want to sound ungrateful but¡­can I ask why?¡±

    ¡°Because I am trapped in this forest and cannot move beyond a certain range.¡± Kierra¡¯s eyes go distant as she remembers something. ¡°My mother is a very powerful caster with the null affinity, a rarity even among our magically gifted race. I¡­disappointed her you could say. Until I right the wrong, I¡¯m trapped in this forest, unable to go home or go my own way.¡±

    ¡°What¡­did you do?¡±

    The elf shakes her head. ¡°It¡¯s not what I did, but what I didn¡¯t do. Never mind that. It has nothing to do with you. The only thing you need to think about is getting home. I may not be able to get you to the border but I can point you in the right direction, show you how to get there without being mauled by scavengers.¡±

    Yes! I could kiss you right now. Honestly, I want to but I don¡¯t want to get slapped. Or shot. Or abandoned in the middle of the forest. Before I can express my overwhelming gratitude and relief, a dark cloud comes over me.

    No one is this nice. If there is one thing I have learned from my father, it¡¯s that everyone has a motive. There¡¯s always an angle. I don¡¯t want to doubt her but I have to. ¡°Again, please don¡¯t take this the wrong way but why are you helping me?¡±

    Kierra tilts her head curiously. ¡°Is it so strange?¡±

    ¡°Honestly? Yes. People are just not that nice.¡±

    ¡°Maybe not among humans. You dominate your surroundings, tearing and shredding anything that gets in your way. We live alongside other creatures. We must, for our lands are populated by creatures we could not hope to decimate without risking our annihilation. In such a realm, it pays to be generous to all those who cross your path whenever you can.¡±

    She smiles at me. If charity gave off light, I would be blinded by that smile. That¡¯s it. She¡¯s a saint. One of those genuine do-gooders who would deliver the world to salvation if she could. And apparently, there¡¯s an entire race of them. No. I bet most of them just say that crap because it sounds good. Kierra just happens to be one of the ones who mean it.

    Wah. That might be more amazing than her hunting skills. What a stroke of good luck I had getting rescued by her. About time. With all the crap I¡¯ve gone through lately, I deserve some.

    Next to me, Kierra yawns deeply, her eyes becoming hooded as she relaxes into the furs. ¡°Forgive me for my lack of attention but I am feeling drowsy. I was on my way home for a nap when I heard the wolves howling.¡±

    Huh? But its midday. I say as much and the elf chuckles. ¡°Elves sleep longer than you might expect. We¡¯re only active at dawn, dusk, and twilight. Best times to hunt.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Okay then.¡± I start to get off the mat but she grabs my arm.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°I was just going to, I don¡¯t know. Maybe going to take a nap downstairs. I wasn¡¯t going to go outside if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about.¡± Of course not. That would be stupid. Tree safe. Forest have bad wolves. Even a monkey could grasp that simple truth.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to go all the way down there. There¡¯s plenty of room right here.¡±

    Haugh. That smile. Those eyes. She¡¯s tempting me. She has to be. There¡¯s no way she cannot know what she¡¯s doing to me right now.

    I hope she doesn¡¯t think that I am as saintly as she is. A good person raised with proper manners might refuse the invitation for propriety¡¯s sake. I am not a good person. This was confirmed by a powerful elemental who possesses the wisdom of thousands of years, as I can''t imagine Cosmo being anything younger than a few millennia.

    I climb back onto the furs. Kierra holds out her arms and I move into them, tucking my head into the crook between her neck and her shoulder. One of her hands moves to my head and starts that stroking again. My eyes begin to feel heavy.

    What settles it is when Kierra starts to hum. A tuneless song that vibrates through her chest and fills the room. Sleep creeps up on me before I realize it¡¯s happening and I give in to the darkness.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 7

    I wake to the sound of scraping.

    I stretch languidly, wiping my eyes as I glance around the room. Kierra is kneeling in front of her carving table. She has changed into brown leathers and tied her hair back with a leather strap, a few strands falling into her face. Her attention is focused on the featureless shape of wood in her hands as she carefully chips away splinters to give it character.

    That intensity is so mesmerizing that I can¡¯t do anything but stare dumbly at her until she takes a break several minutes later and happens to catch my gaze. Her face is lit with a smile. I think I¡¯m getting addicted to that sight. If she could bottle that thing, she¡¯d make a fortune.

    ¡°Lou! How long have you been awake for? You could have said something you know.¡± She stands up and comes over to the bed, taking a seat on the corner. Her finger brushes across my cheek. ¡°For someone so surprised that I sleep during the day, you slept pretty hard.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re very good at that.¡± I nod to the work table. The hunk of wood she was working on has started to take the shape of something. I¡¯m not sure what it is meant to be but I¡¯m sure I can see the beginnings of a wing.

    ¡°Hmm. It keeps me busy. Aside from hunts, there is not much to do out here. Another reason for me to take such an interest in you.¡± She grabs me by the hands and pulls me to my feet, leading me to the ladder. ¡°If you¡¯re going to get to the border of the forest safely, we have a lot of work to do!¡±

    -

    Outside, the sun is approaching the horizon. I face a grinning Kierra who stands with her hands on her hips, eyes bright with amusement. ¡°Alright then, Lou. If I¡¯m going to get you to the border, I need to know what you can do.¡±

    I stare at her and she raises an eyebrow questioningly. Oh, was that an invitation? Am I supposed to do something now? Crap. Time to own up. ¡°I really can¡¯t do much of anything.¡±

    ¡°Nothing?¡±

    ¡°Nuh-uh.¡±

    ¡°Not a thing?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    Kierra shakes her head. ¡°You can¡¯t mean that. Come on, Lou. If something were trying to kill you, what would you do?¡±

    ¡°Run. As fast as I can.¡±

    ¡°Is that what you did with the wolves?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°See. There you go. That¡¯s something right there. Green wolves are very fast and organized. To escape from them, you must be pretty quick on your feet.¡±

    ¡°But it caught me. The first one, I mean. It tackled me to the ground but I kicked it off before it could bite down.¡±

    ¡°You kicked it off?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I think I¡¯m a lot stronger than I used to be.¡±

    Kierra stretches. ¡°Hmm. Well, one at a time. Let¡¯s start with the running first since that happens to be a specialty of mine. I¡¯ll give you a forty-second head start.¡±

    Huh? Forty-second head start? Is she going to chase me? That¡¯s ridiculous. ¡°Are you about to chase me?¡±

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s crazy. I can¡¯t outrun you!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying you have to be faster than me. You just need to avoid me for, hmm, shall we start with one minute? That¡¯s not nearly enough to survive on your own in the forest but small goals.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s still impossible.¡±

    ¡°Forty.¡±

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Thirty-nine.¡±

    ¡°What happens if you catch me?¡±

    Her eyes narrow into a glare that matches the intensity she showed during her carving. Her tongue goes across her bottom lip and I shiver at the controlled violence I can almost feel radiating off her. The saintly image is gone. Here is the huntress that has countless trophies hanging on her wall. This is a game and something tells me I don¡¯t want to lose.

    ¡°Thirty-eight.¡±

    I turn and sprint through the trees, heart hammering. I quickly lose sight of Kierra but that doesn¡¯t set my mind at ease. Her confidence tells me that simply being out of sight is no great advantage. I need a trump card.

    Maybe the same trick that worked on the wolves will work on her? It¡¯s worth a shot.

    Jumping, I imagine my arm reaching for one of the branches and it turns into a tentacle that easily reaches my goal. I haul myself onto it and crouch against the tree¡¯s trunk, my eyes scanning the surroundings for my pursuer as I count down the seconds in my head.

    Something slamming into my side forces the breath from my lungs. The ground rushes toward me but before I hit it, the world spins. There¡¯s a loud thump as Kierra takes the impact and then the world spins again as she rolls me onto my back, pinning me by my shoulders.

    The elf is hovering over me, grinning toothily. What the heck? How did she reach me so quickly? She expects me to outrun her, even for a minute? Impossible.

    ¡°Lou, that was just a poor effort. Using a trick I have already seen? The predators here aren¡¯t like the mangy dogs your farmers have to contend with. Some of them are intelligent and many of them are good climbers. Simply crouching on a branch isn¡¯t going to help you.¡±

    ¡°This is impossible.¡± I¡¯m whining but I don¡¯t feel bad about it. This feels impossible. It¡¯s like asking a four-year-old to cast a spell. Even if their life depends on it, it¡¯s just not going to happen.

    Kierra coos and lightly trails her fingers down my cheek. ¡°None of that. You want to get home, don¡¯t you? That means there¡¯s no other choice but to do it. Surpass your limits.¡±

    Wah. That sounded cool. The exact opposite of what I am. I¡¯m a slacker who just wants to coast through life doing as little as possible and having a good time. But Kierra¡¯s watching me with a warm, expectant gaze. I don¡¯t want to disappoint her so I find myself nodding in consent. Maybe a little bit more. If it¡¯s really that bad, I can just quit tomorrow.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good girl. Now I¡¯m going to provide you with some motivation. Elf children are usually made to do strength training until they collapse if they fail so terribly but I¡¯m going to let you off easy.¡±

    Before I can ask what she means, Kierra opens her mouth wide and bites down on my neck. Hard. As in, she draws blood.

    I yelp and try to squirm away but she¡¯s got a firm hold on my shoulders, her legs on either side of my waist preventing much movement. She finally lets me go only to shift positions and bite down again, equally as hard. This continues for several minutes, the elf¡¯s surprisingly pointy teeth shredding me while she ignores my whimpers of pain and pleading.

    When she finally lets me go, I scramble away, a hand going to my neck as I stare at her with betrayed eyes. Kierra takes it with an easy smile, wiping away a bit of my blood from the corner of her lips. ¡°Did you enjoy your lesson?¡±

    What lesson? That you shouldn¡¯t trust smiley elves that invite you back to their treehouse because they like to play mind games? ¡°No! What kind of lesson was that?¡±

    ¡°The feeling of being trapped, powerless. Something bigger than you pushing down on you with an overwhelming power you can¡¯t escape. The fear. The pain. That, Lou, is what it feels like to be preyed upon. Is it something you enjoy?¡±

    That intensity that I saw is back, even stronger now. I can almost feel her gaze like a physical thing. This conversation is doing something to her. The look in her eyes is wild and her chest is heaving from her panting breaths even though she wasn¡¯t winded when she tackled me off my branch.

    Some force has a hold of her and it¡¯s reaching out to me, tying my tongue and burying my apprehension beneath an excitement I can barely understand. I shake my head minutely.

    ¡°Then I suggest you run, Lou. Run harder and run faster than you ever have. Because if a real predator catches you, you won¡¯t get away with just scratches. Forty seconds.¡±

    This time, I don¡¯t wait for her to start counting down before I take off into the trees. My heart pounding in my ears, I don¡¯t notice the way the trees blur beside me or the wild laughter of Kierra as she sees prey worth hunting. The only thing I can think about is the look on Kierra¡¯s face after pinning me down and the conflicting desires to escape or get caught so I can see it again.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 8

    We stop when night falls and I can no longer run without stumbling every couple of seconds. Kierra tsks at me for that but allows me to ride on her back as she easily makes her way back to her tree.

    She coaxes me up the ladder to her room and then goes up to the next level, coming down with another pack like the one she wears along her waist. Laying it out reveals several more of the berries she offered me before and thick strips of smoked meat.

    ¡°Go ahead and dig in,¡± Kierra offers, taking off her boots.

    I¡¯m not hungry. The wolves must have filled me up. No, the only thing I want to do right now is curl up into a ball and pass out. After running for hours, I¡¯m tired and my neck is sore from being used as a chew toy. I never managed to escape from her. Not once. The best I did was thirty seconds. Half the time of the lowest bar in her opinion. Thankfully, I heal fast now so the cuts closed but it still aches, both physically and mentally.

    Kierra seems to be waiting for me to eat first so I grab a strip of meat and chew on the end dejectedly. The elf pops a few berries into her mouth, chewing them contentedly.

    ¡°Now that we¡¯re done for the day, it¡¯s time for us to reflect. What you did good and what you did bad.¡±

    She stares at me expectantly and I sigh. ¡°You know what you want to say so why don¡¯t you just tell me?¡±

    ¡°Because you need to be able to evaluate yourself. Know what you did wrong and fix it. Know what you did right and capitalize on it. This is how you grow. More importantly, it applies to your enemies. You watch them and you note their strengths and their weaknesses. Hunting is not just about how fast or how strong you are. It¡¯s about who has better information and strategies. So¡­¡± She waves a hand toward me.

    ¡°Um. Well, I guess that I¡¯m slow. And I put too much focus on you rather than where I was going.¡± Seriously. The number of times I tripped over some root or bush because I turned around to see if she was catching up to me is embarrassing.

    ¡°And what did you do right?¡±

    ¡°¡­nothing?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t say that.¡± She grabs one of the strips of meat and takes a large bite. I catch a glimpse of her teeth and feel my face flush. Seriously, the heck is wrong with me? ¡°You had a few good maneuvers. I especially liked the diving into the log. If it were wolves, that would have worked as a good shelter but I don¡¯t suppose you had a plan to get out of there?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± That had been pure desperation. All the good it did. Kierra simply grabbed my ankle, pulled me out, and proceeded with my lessons. ¡°Are you going to tell me what you think about my performance now?¡±

    ¡°Uh-hmm. You grew green wolf fur before so I have a question. Could you take that form?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I mean, I haven¡¯t tried but I¡¯m pretty sure I can.¡±

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you do that? Four legs are much faster than two.¡±

    My eyes go wide with shock, my jaw flopping uselessly as I process that very, very, obvious observation. Then I shut them in earth-shattering regret. There are no words for this feeling. Saying I feel like an idiot would be like calling the sun bright.

    ¡°And also, your elemental form seems stronger than your human one so changing into that and reshaping yourself to have legs could have also been quite effective.¡±

    Ugh. The regret just got heavier.

    ¡°You crash through the trees like a drunken bear, making no attempts to hide your trail. I didn¡¯t have to look at it to follow you but if I had to, it would have been embarrassingly easy.¡±

    I wish I could just curl up into a ball and disappear. This is what my laziness gets me. Ah. Regret. So much regret.

    A hand on my shoulder makes me look to the side. Kierra is sitting next to me, her eyes warm and comforting. ¡°I know it seems impossible but that¡¯s because you are thinking like a human with human limits. If that¡¯s all you were, I wouldn¡¯t have started you off with something so hard. But you¡¯re not. You are something much more and when you embrace that, you will be able to do this.¡±

    Indignation rises as my face twists into a scowl. ¡°You can¡¯t just tell me to forget being human! I¡¯ve been whatever I am for two days. I¡¯ve been human for eighteen YEARS!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to be upset-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not upset!¡± I shout, taking angry bites out of my food. ¡°I¡¯m frustrated.¡±

    Honestly, I¡¯m not upset that I¡¯m not human anymore. If Cosmo hadn¡¯t done what he did, I wouldn¡¯t be alive. For that, I¡¯m nothing but grateful. It had just been a long, stressful day and damn it, I may be lazy but I hate losing! Not one time? I didn¡¯t get away once? And there were such easy solutions I completely missed.

    Especially the wolf one. Missing that physically hurts. Maybe I can¡¯t change into one. Then it was instinct that kept me from doing it, not idiocy. Yeah. That would make me feel loads better. Let¡¯s try this right now.

    I jump up, startling Kierra, and climb down the ladder.

    ¡°Lou, wait a-¡±

    ¡°Relax. I¡¯m not about to do anything stupid. I just need to see something.¡± On the spacious first floor, I reach into my mind and find the menu, focusing on the second grouping of elements. A ripple goes through my body and the world changes. My point of view lowers and colors bleed away as details come into focus.

    I pad around the room on my paws experimentally. Kierra has climbed down and is watching me. I trot past, doing circles around her. She reaches out for me and I dance away yipping. Yeah, this is much faster. I still feel like an idiot but I¡¯m glad I did this. If I¡¯m this fast, I should do much better tomorrow. That excitement eases the burn of failure.

    While I¡¯m at it, I might as well try the other thing. Thinking about my original form, a ripple goes through me and I¡¯m back to the star-studded ooze. Now, I don¡¯t want to be me. I just want to be the shape of me. Two arms, two legs.

    Keeping the image in my mind, I can feel my body reshaping itself. In moments, I am a featureless version of myself. I wiggle my night colored fingers and toes, then do a couple of stretches. I would have laughed out loud if I could have when I bent over backward and kept going until my head touched my heels. Yeah, this form is stronger and way more flexible.

    I¡¯m just going to stay like this for a while. I may not be comfortable with this new form but there¡¯s no time like the present to get used to it. Forced acclimation. Besides, this really is more comfortable. No pesky muscles that ache or skin that bruises. So convenient.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Turning, I point a threatening finger at Kierra. I may not be able to talk but the message is pretty clear. You¡¯re going down tomorrow, elf.

    I know she gets it because she gives me another one of those bright smiles. ¡°I look forward to it,¡± she whispers, just a hint of a growl in her voice.

    -

    I curse after stubbing my toe for what has to be the hundredth time. The results of my games with Kierra have marginally improved after two weeks, even though I¡¯ve applied my shapeshifting abilities to the fullest. The lovely, sadistic elf hosting me for my stay in the Enchanted Forest claims it¡¯s because I¡¯m not in touch with my surroundings.

    I¡¯m not opposed to the assessment as much as the solution to it. Traipsing through the dark should never be a solution in my book, but what do I know?

    Something I¡¯ve learned about myself; I¡¯m a weak-willed softie. At least when it comes to Kierra. She flashes that smile and I get talked into the craziest things. Somehow, when she¡¯s explaining this mess to me in that sexy whisper she uses when we¡¯re laying together, trying to find my way back to the tree by starlight sounds like a good idea. Even the bit about staying in human form to ¡®get in touch with my senses¡¯.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I mumble to myself as I adjust the leather pack Kierra gave me. Inside is a day¡¯s worth of rations, a rough map of the area, a change of clothes, a flask of water, and a stone knife. My elven instructor made it clear that she wouldn¡¯t be coming to get me under any circumstances, so it was best to be prepared.

    ¡°Remember what the crazy elf said. Brightest star in the sky, the three behind it form an arrow that points home. Dammit, I can¡¯t see anything through the branches.¡± It¡¯s worse than trying to spot fish at the bottom of a murky pond. At least fish move. ¡°Oh, forget it.¡±

    I move to a nearby tree and lean against it. Luckily, there is no rule saying that I have to make it back at night. I figure I spend a long, uncomfortable night at the base of this tree and get moving in the morning when I can see the landmarks on my map. The slightly damp ground tells me it must have rained while we took our afternoon nap but it¡¯s easy enough to put out of my mind as I close my eyes.

    As usual, my thoughts drift to Kierra. It¡¯s almost as if I¡¯ve been dropped into one of the ridiculous stories sung by bards. A beautiful princess trapped in a castle by a terrible curse, awaiting a brave noble to rescue her. The elf is certainly pretty enough to inspire songs. Too bad I¡¯m not a gallant noble but leaving her alone in this forest just seems like such a waste¡­

    I don¡¯t realize I¡¯ve fallen asleep until I¡¯m startled awake by a chittering noise. My eyes snap open but I can¡¯t make out details in the gloom. The sounds come again and I look up. It takes everything I have not to scream.

    Even in the darkness, I can make out the thing¡¯s spindly legs and small beady eyes. All six of them focused on me as it slowly lowers itself down from one of the branches. I scramble out of its path, practically throwing myself across the ground to get out of the way as its eight arms touch the ground.

    More chittering makes me spin around. Half a dozen of the things are coming down, each of them making that disturbing noise. I have to think of them as creatures because I can¡¯t call them what they remind me of. They remind me of spiders but spiders aren¡¯t as big as dogs and they sure as hell aren¡¯t audible!

    This is bad. The chittering is getting louder. That means there are more of them than I can make out and the ones I can see are slowly pushing forward.

    Sorry, Kierra. I know I promised to remain in human form but I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯d make an exception for this. With a thought, I¡¯m back in my elemental form and I have to admit I feel a lot less threatened without a heartbeat that can be stopped.

    Doesn¡¯t do much about the giant bugs. Saints above, why are they moving so slowly? They¡¯re creeping even though I know they can move faster than that with those legs. Are you enjoying this? Do insects have feelings?

    The chittering has risen to a powerful note. This doesn¡¯t seem like a situation I can run from. I need to be able to see so I can evaluate the danger properly. Only one thing for it.

    I¡¯ve seen performers exaggerate the use of magic on stage, flipping about while chanting nonsense. Meanwhile, the real casters are behind the curtains doing the boring calculations that produce the effects the crowd loves. Spellcasting is a lackluster thing. Casters wouldn¡¯t be very effective if they had to announce themselves every time they made something happen. The idea is to get it done quickly and precisely.

    The good thing is that they are all close by. That takes out the pain of distance calculation. The first part of any spell is the activation variable, the element the caster is working. The rest of the spell describes; intensity, distance, adjusting variables.

    Luckily, I only need to input intensity. I put in a value of five. Initiates like me who are recently accepted into the Grand Hall usually have a coefficient between 50-60 mana, a fact I know since my father repeatedly shoved it down my throat. My slacking means I have a coefficient of 35 which is far below Grand Hall standards. Using 5 points with my meager capacity will leave me winded but this is a desperate situation.

    I pour my intent into the spell, feeling the surrounding mana bending to my will as I hold out a hand. Instead of the usual tightness I get from straining my meager mana core, it flows easily, my chest remaining light. Hmm? Has my capacity increased? It sure feels like it.

    No, not the time to think about that. The spell activates. I direct the flow of mana to my hand and a bright flame flares above my palm, illuminating my surroundings. I look around to take in my situation and-

    Saints save me. I¡¯m surrounded. There has to be dozens of these things on the ground and dangling from branches. And more of them are emerging, crawling out from holes in the trunks of the trees I never noticed. The most horrendous thing about them is their slow manner. Predators will flinch from fire. These things keep their distance but they creep forward nonetheless, staring at me with their beady eyes as they chitter to one another.

    The spell times out and the fire disappears, dumping me back into the darkness. Except now, I have a good idea what¡¯s out there.

    Really thankful I don¡¯t have a bladder right now.

    I wonder if the heroes in the great epics were ever scared out of their mind the way I am right now. I don¡¯t know how they can fight dragons and liches. These bugs are enough to do me in. I¡¯m not fighting them, not even to save myself.

    I adjust my spell, upping the intensity variable up to 15 and adding in a distance variable before throwing my hand out in a random direction. A ball three times as large as my previous one appears in the middle of the horde, setting the creatures ablaze. The low chittering becomes screeching as the spiders roll onto their backs, kicking their spindly legs into the air.

    That¡¯s my cue. I run, leaping over the burning insects. Before I touch the ground, I¡¯m a green wolf. In this form, I can make out a few more details in grayscale, just enough to move through the trees. I can hear them coming after me. No more taunting. Thank the saints this form is faster than they are.

    I run through the night. Several times, I slow down and almost stop, but every time I think I¡¯ve put enough distance between us and am about to rest, my mind thinks I hear that awful chittering behind me. A vision of them spinning webs around me while I sleep sends a spike of adrenaline through my system and I continue to run on.

    By pure luck, I stumble into familiar territory just as the first rays of light filter through the forest. I make it back to Kierra¡¯s tree before the sun can fully rise and nearly sob with relief as I collapse in front of her door.

    My eyes are closed when the door is opened. In this form, I can recognize Kierra by her smell and hear the pounding of her heart. Her hand slips through my fur, rubbing me behind the ears.

    ¡°You were not supposed to shapeshift,¡± she admonishes softly and with unmistakable humor. ¡°Did something in the big, bad forest try to eat you?¡±

    I nod.

    ¡°Aw, poor Lou. Go on and change back.¡± I revert to my elemental form. There aren¡¯t any muscles to ache but I¡¯m still exhausted. With a little grunt of effort, she scoops me up and carries me into the tree, laying me on one of the mats on the bottom floor. ¡°Where¡¯s the sack I gave you?¡±

    A firm shake in the negative.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be paying me back for that some way. I¡¯m thinking some good old-fashioned hard labor. With the two of us here, I was thinking we might build an extension, give you some space of your own. Or maybe a massage. I¡¯ve been working myself a little hard lately and I¡¯m sure these limbs of yours can find all of those hard to reach knots.¡±

    She runs a finger down one of my arms. Ah, if only I wasn¡¯t so tired. This is a moment, right? Kierra teases me like this regularly but I can never tell if she¡¯s serious. If I had a little more energy, I might press my luck and find out.

    ¡°Or not. No need to be mean when I knew this would happen. It would have been nice if you managed to make it back without transforming, but the real purpose of the exercise was to show how dangerous the forest can be. I think you will be more motivated during our games now, hmm?¡±

    Another firm nod on my end. I thought being chased by the vicious elf was a terrible experience. Now, the brutal tag game sounds like the best offer I¡¯ve ever heard. I will rise to the impossible task of escaping Kierra. Anything to avoid those eight-legged nightmares.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 9

    I move slowly along the ground, barely an inch off the forest¡¯s floor. Dusk is falling and my elemental form is nearly imperceptible in the growing dark, a fact I¡¯m counting on. Outrunning Kierra is impossible but if I¡¯m very careful, I can avoid her.

    I hear a crack. Really, I¡¯m not sure that I do. It could have been my imagination but I freeze anyway, as tense as my gelatinous body can get.

    There. A shape moving through the trees. I can¡¯t be a hundred percent sure that¡¯s my pursuer but I think it is. She¡¯s about fifteen meters away, moving slowly, her head tilted toward the ground. I grin wickedly. This time, I made good use of my head start and laid several false trails. Of course, the elf is slowly narrowing down my position but three minutes have already passed. My goal is to make it to five.

    I am entirely still as I watch Kierra investigate the area. Once again, I am grateful for this body that does not need a heart or lungs. I¡¯ve learned that elves have incredible hearing. As close as she is, my heart thudding in my chest could give me away.

    She¡¯s following the trail away from me and I contain the urge to jump for joy. Yes! If she follows it I can double back. I could make it past five minutes.

    But after a few steps, she stops suddenly and turns back around. The heart I don¡¯t have drops into the stomach I don¡¯t have as she focuses in my direction, eyes narrowing. Maybe she doesn¡¯t see me. Maybe¡¯s she¡¯s just-

    Kierra dashes forward. I¡¯m moving at the same time. In a blink, I¡¯ve turned into a wolf and dashed off, darting through the trees. In this form, I can almost match her in speed but my sensitive ears pick up her heavy footfalls as she races after me.

    Just as she¡¯s about to catch me, I leap. Midair, I shift back to a blob and throw my tentacle arms out at a nearby branch, pulling myself onto it. I don¡¯t stop there and throw my arm to the next one, quickly ascending. Kierra is right behind me, the thinner footholds doing nothing to slow her down.

    Frickin¡¯ stubborn elf. Alright. Let¡¯s see if you can keep up. Take this! The technique I developed while you were sleeping.

    I jump off my branch and throw out my arms, catching a low branch the next tree over. I compress my body into a ball and, instead of pulling myself up, I swing forward. At the height of the arch, I let go of the branch I¡¯m on and catch the next one.

    With each swing, I speed up. When I¡¯m pretty sure that I have a good lead on her, I chance a look backward.

    I almost miss my next branch. What the heck? Wha-this is just ridiculous. Elves are ridiculous. She¡¯s right behind me, jumping through the trees as easily as she runs on the ground. Even from here I can see the big smile on her face as she closes in on me.

    No way. I worked too hard on this to get caught so easily. I aim for a higher branch and gain some height. Kierra follows right behind me but before she can get too close, I drop down, leaving her several feet above me.

    I keep alternating heights and the gap between us lengthens. For a moment. Then Kierra regains her balance. She moves to branches midway up and does something unexpected. Her hands begin to glow bright green as she works a spell. I curse inwardly as the branches ahead of me and above me wither and die, dropping down to the forest floor.

    Using magic is cheating!

    Oh no. I¡¯m running out of branches to swing off of and with so few options, Kierra knows where I¡¯m going to be. I can feel her waiting for the moment to pounce. I¡¯m screwed. I¡¯m going to get caught.

    Grr. Not yet. I¡¯m not done yet. I prepared a special surprise for you.

    I purposely launch myself further into the air than I need to. The extra air time makes me a clear target and, as I expected, Kierra jumps from her branch, ready to tackle me.

    As she nears me, I stretch my body out wide, like a net. I have a single moment to relish the surprise on her face before I wrap myself around her, binding her legs together and trapping her arms against her side.

    We tumble to the ground. Kierra tries to break free of my hold but the struggle is useless. My human muscles would have caved against her superior strength but not the new and improved me. If I could cackle, I would.

    Keep struggling. I love it. I can hear you cursing in that musical language that I don¡¯t understand a word of but your frustration is obvious. The harder you push against me, the more of you I can feel. I tighten around her, squeezing until I hear a groan.

    I didn¡¯t do that just to fondle you. No, no. It¡¯s just that you¡¯re struggling pretty hard, you know? I just don¡¯t want you to get free.

    Hmm? What is this? I can feel something tingly across my surface. Oh. Her hands are glowing. Is this magic? Is she casting a spell on me? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s supposed to be tickling me. I must be resisting it. I¡¯m magic resistant now? Awesome.

    I give her a few squeezes, hoping they can communicate my humor. Haha. Too bad, little elf. Your tricks don¡¯t work on me. This is it. I¡¯ve completely beaten you. Give up now.

    As if she can hear me, Kierra sighs in exasperation and goes limp. ¡°You win.¡±

    Hehe.

    ¡°You can let me go now.¡±

    Just a minute. I¡¯m enjoying the moment.

    ¡°Louuuuu.¡±

    I release my hold on her and slither off to the side. My blob form reshapes into a human silhouette. I wait until she is on her feet and facing me before I break into a victory dance, prancing about in a circle.

    Kierra laughs at me and claps along. I ham it up and finish with a dramatic backflip, landing perfectly on my feet. Kierra¡¯s applause becomes louder and I bow, grasping at the air as if I am grabbing flowers thrown to me by a crowd of admirers like the performers do in the city.

    My arm is grabbed, halting my theatrics as I¡¯m dragged back in the direction of the tree. We reach it just as the last of daylight disappears beneath the horizon. I jog ahead of her and scramble up the ladder to her room, jumping on the bed as I shift to my human form, a rare thing for me lately. Can¡¯t be helped. To properly brag, I need my voice.

    Kierra comes up the ladder, her eyes lighting up with amusement when she sees the way I¡¯ve claimed her bed. I put my arms behind my head and lounge, a cocky smile on my face. ¡°I won.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lou. You did. We¡¯ve already established that.¡±

    ¡°I beat you.¡±

    ¡°Uh-hmm.¡±

    ¡°You, an elf, got outran. In your home turf. Even using your magic.¡±

    Kierra chuckles as she kicks off her boots and climbs onto the furs, crouching over me. ¡°You like to rub it in.¡±

    I do. I am very proud of this. It is an accomplishment. Weeks of getting tackled to the ground and chewed on by her and I¡¯ve finally won. She even made me change back to being human since her teeth can¡¯t do much to my ooze form. Not that I minded much.

    Eventually, it didn¡¯t so much as hurt as feel good. One time, I even moaned when I felt her teeth sinking into me. Kierra never mentioned it so I hoped she just took it as a sign of pain rather than pleasure. Because of her, I think I¡¯m developing some strange interests.

    ¡°I¡¯m a bad winner. And a bad loser.¡±

    ¡°I bet you didn¡¯t have a lot of friends when you were younger.¡±

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    ¡°Of course I did. Don¡¯t you know that money can buy you anything?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a terrible attitude.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a terrible person. I fully accept this.¡±

    Kierra runs her fingers across my scalp and I sigh. She does this so often, I think it must mean something in elf culture. I¡¯ve tried asking her about herself but whenever I do, she just smiles in that ''don¡¯t hate me, but I¡¯m not going to answer you'' way. ¡°You did good, Lou. You really did.¡±

    I preen under the praise. Heh. I may be lazy but everyone likes doing a good job. ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m ready to leave now?¡±

    Her fingers pause. I look up and see a forlorn expression on her face. ¡°Kierra? What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± She forces a smile but it¡¯s a shadow of its usual warmth. Her fingers resume their motion. ¡°Yes, you should be able to make it through now. You¡¯ll have to move during the day and find good hiding places at night but that shouldn¡¯t be much concern. You have incredible stamina. If you run straight through, it¡¯ll only take you two days, three at most.¡±

    She sounds sad as she says this. I¡¯ve been wondering about it for a while but Kierra must be lonely. The way she attached to me so quickly, how she nearly insisted I sleep with her. Deer, wolves, and the various monsters nesting in the forest can¡¯t make for great company.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to go over a few more things. Proper directions, animal patterns, and gathering. You can eat wolves but killing tends to attract attention.¡± Her smile widens into a genuine one. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ll be stuck with me for a little while longer.¡±

    ¡°¡­you can come with me, you know.¡±

    She shakes her head sadly. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°But why not?¡± I sit up, grabbing her shoulders when she turns away. ¡°Kierra, I mean it. Whatever it is that you need to do to get out of here, I¡¯ll help. I owe you at least that much. Between the two of us, we can handle it. Yeah?¡±

    For a minute, I think she¡¯s going to confide in me. I can see she wants to. The secret yearns to burst out of her, her jaw working as it fights to escape her throat. But then she clamps down, locking it behind a sad smile.

    I sigh and let her go, relaxing on the bed. Fine. Hold out on me. But what you don¡¯t know is that I¡¯m not leaving this forest until I figure it out. I lied when I said I had a bunch of friends. I didn¡¯t have any, not a single one.

    The other nobles avoided my bitter father like the plague. The only ones immune to the poison he spat were just as venomous, their children the same. I much preferred the boisterous farmers¡¯ sons and bakers¡¯ daughters but I was never allowed outside when I was young. By the time I was older and able to sneak off, I had to hide my identity because those laughing children had grown into the same noble-hating attitude as their parents. If they discovered who I was, there were equal chances I would be avoided or robbed for the fat coin purse I didn¡¯t have.

    Kierra is my first real friend. No way I¡¯m just going to leave her here when she¡¯s clearly sad. I may be lazy and far from a saint but I¡¯m not heartless. At least when it comes to people I like. Huh. Who¡¯d have thought I¡¯d go out of my way like this?

    ¡°Alright then. I¡¯ll just focus on my training. You better be careful. At this rate, I¡¯ll be a better hunter than you when I leave.¡±

    She snorts at that. ¡°I sincerely doubt it. You may have potential but it is like comparing a cub to the mother who feeds it.¡± Her hand moves from my hair to trail across my cheek. ¡°Are you hungry?¡±

    ¡°Nah.¡± I don¡¯t know how she manages to do it without me noticing but whenever I¡¯ve told her I¡¯m hungry, dead animals appear on the bottom floor. Mainly green wolves. Apparently, she enjoys killing them. Says she¡¯s cleaning up the forest. Whatever. I get plenty to eat and give her a nice pelt in return.

    ¡°Good. Then I think it¡¯s time we discuss your reward.¡±

    I perk up. ¡°Reward?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°If you get punishments when you do poorly, doesn¡¯t it make sense that you get rewarded when you do well?¡±

    You won¡¯t get an argument from me! ¡°What do I get?¡±

    She moves closer, putting her arms on either side of me as she pushes one of her legs between my own. After back to back transformations, I¡¯ve gotten pretty used to being naked around her but the point is being brought home right now.

    Her silver hair falls around our heads in a curtain tickling my cheek as she leans closer. That intensity I admire so much is back but this time, it¡¯s focused on me. Suddenly, the room feels twice as hot and the air is hard to breathe.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it for quite a while. Originally, I was going to give you my spare bow. That¡¯s the normal gift for young elves and I thought it would be good if you learned to defend yourself. However, you seem able to do that on your own and¡­I have a feeling I can give you something you¡¯d appreciate a lot more than wood.¡±

    She¡¯s so close now our noses are almost touching. We¡¯re breathing the same air. I know she can hear my heart racing. This can only go one way, right? She can only be talking about one thing, right? Please let that be it. It would be plain cruel if she¡¯s teasing me right now.

    Her eyes are pinned to my lips but they flick upwards to meet my own. They peer into me as if they¡¯re searching for something. Waiting. Are you looking for permission? Seriously? Why haven¡¯t you kissed me already? No, you know what? Screw it.

    My heart stops as I close the meager space between us, bringing our lips together. Hmm. This is nice, but, hmm. I mean, I was expecting-

    My thoughts scramble as Kierra takes control of the kiss. Her fingers grab ahold of my ears to hold me in place and she tilts her head to get impossibly closer. Her lips move against mine in a gentle caress but at the same time, they are also demanding. She won¡¯t let us part for even a moment. Ah, there isn¡¯t enough air. I¡¯m starting to feel dizzy and the rising heat is only making it worse. Still, I wouldn¡¯t pull away if I could. Forgive me for thinking this was going to be lackluster. I had no idea.

    I jump as I feel Kierra¡¯s tongue slide across my bottom lip. What? I don¡¯t, I feel like she¡¯s trying to tell me something but I¡¯m not getting it. It¡¯s not my fault. It¡¯s impossible to think right now.

    She gets tired of waiting for me to catch on. Her tongue forces its way past my lips to twine about my own. Things inside me twist with pleasure as she leisurely explores my mouth. My hands flex uselessly on the furs but I know where I want to put them. It should be okay now. This is that kind of situation.

    Hesitantly, I bring them up, just barely touching her shoulder blades. Then I let them drift down, tracing her spine through her leather vest. Further, until I reach her hips. She moves then and I freeze, losing my nerve. I¡¯m about to drop them but one of her hands grabs my wrist, holding it in place.

    ¡°Keep going.¡± She pulls away from our kiss for a heartbeat to whisper the command and then reclaims possession of my tongue.

    Well, since you gave me permission.

    My hands move back up to her waist and continue on their original track. It takes a little strength to push them through the waistband of her tight pants but the discomfort is worth it to feel her smooth skin.

    Kierra groans and sits up. Her face is greener than before. Hmm? Is that how elves blush? That¡¯s interesting. But even more interesting is the clumsy way her hands undo the string holding her pants up.

    The pressure on my hands disappears and I easily reach my destination. I grab her ass and squeeze.

    Ooo. This feels better than I expected.  The way she bucks when I apply pressure. Jeez, she is toned everywhere. I can feel her muscles flexing.

    Kierra uses one of her hands to urge the leg she¡¯s straddling upwards and starts grinding her center against my thigh. I can feel a slick heat pooling between my legs as I stare up at her, my panting breaths harsh to my ears. My fingers flex, my nails digging into her flesh as I pull her against me.

    The elf moans. ¡°It¡¯s been so long¡­I held myself back for so long, but I can have this.¡± She plants her hands on either side of me for balance as she increases her rhythm. Ah. This time there¡¯s no mistake. The shadow over her eyes isn¡¯t just a trick of the light. It¡¯s lust. ¡°Tell me I can have this, Lou.¡±

    I have to swallow past a dry mouth to respond. ¡°You can have this.¡±

    Her fingers undo the straps on her vest and she shrugs it off, exposing her voluptuous chest. ¡°I won¡¯t be dishonest with you. I claim this is a reward for you but it is just as much for myself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not complaining,¡± I mutter, my eyes glued to her erect nipples. I¡¯ve heard they grow hard as rocks. I want to confirm this for myself but my hands seem to have gained a will of their own and are communicating their unwillingness to leave their current perch.

    ¡°You hesitate so much even though you practically devour me with your eyes.¡±

    I blush and look away. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ve just never, um-¡±

    A finger on my lips quiets me. ¡°I guessed as much. It¡¯s not a criticism, Lou. There is a certain thrill derived from introducing someone to pleasures like this.¡± She sheds her pants and tosses them away haphazardly before pressing against me.

    Something about the way our bodies press together is too intimate. I have to shut my eyes against the sight even as my hands go around her lower back, hugging her to me. She kisses up my neck and I sigh as she whispers into my ear. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be as gentle as a summer rain. Unless of course-¡±

    My eyes shoot open and I yelp as the familiar feeling of her teeth assaults my collarbone. ¡°-you prefer that I wasn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I, I-¡±

    She bites me again and my words are interrupted by a moan. ¡°Which is it going to be, Lou? You should tell me quickly or I¡¯ll choose for you.¡±

    Frickin'' elf. This is your fault, putting strange ideas in my head. Ugh. You¡¯re chuckling but I can¡¯t even be mad at you for it. Somehow, it¡¯s just making me hotter. I know what I want but I can¡¯t say it. It just so-

    ¡°Aah!¡±

    Kierra has switched targets. Instead of tormenting my neck, her face is buried between my breasts. She is suckling at them and her teeth close around one of my nipples, biting down on it mercilessly. Saints save me it stings painfully but at the same time, it feels like bolts of electricity are racing up and down my spine, forcing it to arc and push me into her. Damn me, but I want her to do it again.

    ¡°Na-¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She raises her head, to look me in the eye. Her tongue rolls over my breast, flicking the nipple. Ugh. She just doesn¡¯t quit.

    ¡°Na¡­not¡­gentle.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to be more clear, Lou.¡±

    You little. She¡¯s grinning. She knows what saying this is doing to me. Ah, I don¡¯t want her to stop teasing me. But I can¡¯t say it. Not when she¡¯s staring at me like that.

    My hands cover my eyes and in the darkness, I can gather my courage. ¡°Not gentle. I don¡¯t¡­want gentle.¡± I¡¯ve said it. That settles it. I am well on my way to becoming a deviant. Well, why not? I¡¯ve already changed species. A person can¡¯t deviate more than that.

    I feel pressure on my wrists as my hands are moved aside. Kierra is above me. The only word I can use to describe her is ferocious. I have the feeling I am about to be devoured and the thought makes me tremble with excitement.

    ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d say that.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 10

    For the first time since living with Kierra, I wake up before the elf. Yawning, I turn over to see her dead to the world, an arm thrown over her eyes, her chest rising and falling slowly with her deep breaths.

    Hehe. And here I was worried about performing. I¡¯m not some natural-born sexual savant. Kierra did most of the work. I mean, I would have to be an idiot to not give her what she needs when she¡¯s dragging me where she wants me to be and growling exactly what she wants me to do. She mentioned it had been awhile. She must have meant a long while. It took barely any effort at all before she was screaming. And jeez, does she scream.

    Not that I was much better. Kierra gave way more than she got and I had no idea what I was getting into when I said I didn¡¯t want her to be gentle. I¡¯m convinced that elves are part animals. My body is covered with evidence of her attentions. The bites and scratches ache. I could get rid of them by changing into my elemental form but I don¡¯t want to. Every time I feel them, it reminds me of last night and the vivid replay puts a wide smile on my face. My cheeks are starting to hurt.

    Moving carefully to avoid waking her, I slip from underneath the furs and climb downstairs, exiting the tree home as quietly as I can. Despite my recent success in my training, I know better than to wander off, especially during dawn. All the predators will be moving through the trees, heading back to their dens, and a few could be actively hunting. One wrong step and I could be something¡¯s meal.

    After our night together, I am more determined than ever to help her. It could be an aftereffect of clinging to her while she did things to me I had no idea could be done but I feel like we have a connection. The thought of her sitting alone in her tree, yearning for anyone to come by with that sad smile of hers, is unbearable. Nope. It¡¯s not happening, whether she wants me to help or not.

    Now, I just need to figure out what happened. What could cause a mother to abandon such a good-natured and talented, in so many ways, daughter like Kierra?

    For the hundredth time, I wish I had listened to anything my tutors tried to teach me. I swear, when I make it back home and am unquestionably shipped off to some magic academy or another, I will be the most devoted student in history. Who knew knowing things could be so useful?

    Jeez, that sounds terrible. I always fancied myself as somehow enlightened but it turns out I¡¯m just another privileged noble brat. Gah. How disappointing. This may be the first time I think my lazy life doing the bare minimum might not be all that great. I swear that frickin'' elf. Putting all these weird ideas into my head. Look at me, trying to save the day. Next thing you know, I¡¯ll be wearing one of the golden saint robes.

    How do I do this? Just¡­wait around to see if she drops any hints? And maybe I can ask some roundabout questions. She shuts down whenever I ask her about herself or her family but maybe if I can get some background on elf culture, I might be able to guess why she¡¯s been trapped in this very big cage.

    ¡°There you are.¡±

    I turn to see Kierra standing in the doorway. She hasn¡¯t bothered to get dressed and my eyes immediately move to her chest. She smiles when she notices where my attention is. ¡°I was worried when I woke up and didn¡¯t see you next to me.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to wake you.¡± That didn¡¯t go as planned.

    ¡°Well now that I¡¯m awake, there should be no problem with you returning to bed, hmm?¡±

    A part of me gets a bad feeling that this is going to become a pattern where she uses sex to distract me from leaving the forest. Classic bait and snare.

    This part of me is very small and inconsequential compared to my newly awakened libido. In a flash, I am on my feet and moving towards her.

    She grabs hold of me as I near the doorway and pulls me into a kiss, kicking the door closed with her heel as she drags me deeper into the tree.

    -

    Okay. Now¡¯s the time.

    It¡¯s been several weeks since we spent our first night together. Kierra has kept to her word and has been teaching me what I need to escape the forest. I can find which direction I¡¯m going at all times, using the sun during the day and the stars at night, and I¡¯ve become a not completely terrible tracker as she taught me how to spot signs of animal movement. I also have a general idea of the patterns of the more dangerous animals and how to avoid them.

    To be honest, I am ready to leave. I¡¯m a hundred percent confident I could make it through, if not easily, then fairly safely. However, I have found all manners of excuses to linger. I ask her to show me more about tracking and to teach me how to use a bow. My reasoning is simple. When else would I get the chance to learn from an elven huntress?

    Kierra is happy to oblige me and never probes too deep. Not one time has she asked when I plan to leave. I think she¡¯s trying not to dwell on it, preferring to live in the moment rather than spend the time she has left with me dreading the day I leave.

    I think that also contributes to the bits of information I¡¯ve heard her let slip.

    It not just that she wants to be with me. I think she needs it, craves it like a starving man craves bread. She spends as much time as she can as close to me as she can get. Even when she¡¯s teaching me, Kierra is never further than a finger length away, preferring to hover right over my shoulder.

    I¡¯ve learned that I can use that to get her to talk to me. Ask a question and subtly back away until she answers it. The information is slow to emerge but she¡¯ll talk if it means getting her hands on me. It¡¯s tricky though. The key is to get as much information as possible before I cave. After all, she has just as much as an effect on me. When she starts stalking across the room, eyes ablaze, saints save me, I get weak in the knees. Kind of hard to escape when your legs aren¡¯t working.

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    But today, I¡¯m ready. I¡¯ve hardened my resolve and steeled my heart. Today¡¯s the day I¡¯m going to find out why she¡¯s trapped here.

    I take a deep breath and relax. The important thing here is to make sure she doesn¡¯t catch on to what I¡¯m doing. If I come in looking like I¡¯m ready for a fight, she¡¯ll know something¡¯s up. So, instead of squaring my shoulders, I stretch languidly to loosen up my muscles and climb up the ladder wearing a smile.

    Kierra is at her fletching table, working on replacing the arrows I destroyed with my terrible aim. I move up behind her and run my fingers through her hair, letting my nails rake across her scalp.

    Her hands pause in their work as her eyes slip shut and she leans back into me. ¡°Did you find my arrows?¡±

    ¡°Nope. I gave up on them.¡±

    ¡°Tsk. So lazy.¡±

    ¡°So practical. What¡¯s the point of looking for splintered shafts when you¡¯re making nice new ones for me?¡±

    ¡°The point is for you to learn to read the trajectory of your shot. And digging through thorny bushes to find broken shafts is a good motivator to focus.¡±

    ¡°¡­did you learn the same way?¡±

    She pauses and I can feel her hesitate. In response, I lean against her, placing my chin on her head as I wrap my arms around her shoulders in a hug. Kierra hums, placing a hand on my arm. ¡°I did. I didn¡¯t have half the grace or control I have now when I was younger. My mother used to sigh every time I came home from a lesson, my legs shredded but grinning like a fool.¡±

    ¡°I bet you were cute.¡± Now for the strategic retreat. I release my hold on her and move over to the head of the bed. Three, two, one¡­

    There¡¯s a soft brush on my neck as Kierra lays a kiss behind my ear, wrapping her arms around my waist. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. Was nothing but trouble for my family. Too much energy. My mother had me placed into training early. The older apprentices didn¡¯t much like that.¡± She chuckles darkly.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. I¡¯m just remembering. They used to play all manners of tricks on me, trying to cow me. They¡¯d hide my knives, steal my rations, cut my bowstring and snap my arrows. Everyone thought I was a natural talent when it came to forestry but they¡¯re wrong. I may have had a passion for it but I¡¯m not particularly special. It was all the practice I got fending the others off that made me advance so fast. It was like I was training all day, every day. Of course, that only made them angrier and they ramped their responses up. And I was forced to improve to thwart them. Around and around it goes.¡±

    Her hands move down, skirting around my thighs into dangerous territory. Smoothly, I turn around, forcing her hands to relocate to my waist. Haha. This is going well. ¡°Are hunters important in elf society? I mean, I¡¯m just wondering why they would need to be jealous.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Hunters are not important. Every elf learns how to manage the forest. But whoever said that I was a hunter?¡±

    It is said with a hint of sadness and I zero in on it. There. That has something to do with why she is trapped here. Okay. Can¡¯t just latch onto the subject. How to maneuver around this?

    I step out of her hold and flop onto the furs. ¡°So, you¡¯re not a hunter? Alright, let me guess. Teacher?¡±

    Kierra chuckles and climbs onto the bed after me. ¡°No, but I find that I enjoy instructing you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re good at it. None of my tutors were half as patient.¡±

    ¡°The tree of patience bears many fruits.¡±

    ¡°Ooo, you¡¯ve even got the unnecessary wise sayings. But you say you¡¯re not a teacher. Okay¡­oh, I¡¯ve got it! A poet!¡±

    Kierra has been slowly pressing closer to me but she stops, blinking in confusion. My plan to halt her lewd advances with complete ridiculousness is also a success. I¡¯m beginning to believe that I have a talent for deviousness.

    ¡°Did you say a poet?¡±

    I nod seriously.

    ¡°What under the moon gave you that idea?¡±

    ¡°Well, you have that, you know.¡± I wave my hands around her vaguely. ¡°That poet aura. Alone in your tree, trapped in the middle of a dangerous forest. Brooding while you carve your pent up frustrations into your little wooden figurines. Uh-hmm. I bet you were some kind of artist back home but your passion is feeding bards their lyrics. You probably have some things hidden around here, don¡¯t you?¡±

    I sit up as if I¡¯m going to go search the tree and she grabs my arm to keep me still, biting her lip to keep from laughing. ¡°I am not a poet or an artist of any kind. The carving is something I picked up after my detainment.¡±

    I lay back time and stare up at the ceiling in thought. ¡°Okay. Not that then. Oh! I¡¯ve got it! You-¡±

    A hand goes over my mouth before I can speak my next ridiculous suggestion. ¡°I was a naga su¡¯tani. A warrior.¡±

    I grab her hand, twining our fingers together. Easy now, Lou. The deer is about to walk into the trap. Don¡¯t spook it now. ¡°A warrior, huh? Is that very different from a hunter?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. We call our hunters foresters. It is a more accurate description of their job. They are among the trees nearly all day. Some of them only come back to the village during festivals. They live and breathe through the trees. They are caretakers, providers, and scouts, telling us of any threats before they reach the village. I was one of the ones who was tasked to deal with those threats.¡±

    ¡°Hoho. Are you bragging right now? Did me comparing you to a measly forester offend you, huh?¡±

    Kierra grins widely, showing off that predatory smile of hers. Her canines are actually sharp. Jeez, no wonder her bites hurt so much. ¡°I have plenty of respect for the foresters. Many are fully capable of handling most creatures of the forest on their own. No, the warriors serve a more¡­spiritual purpose. They are a symbol. And yes, we are specialized in combat so I am far more capable than the average elf.¡±

    She crawls on top of me and my eyes slip shut as she kisses me deeply. I can¡¯t help but linger through it but I come back to my senses when her hands begin to wander.

    Using a sudden burst of strength, I roll us over so I¡¯m on top and break away from the kiss to trail my lips down her neck and across her chest. ¡°A symbol huh? Like knights are symbols of chivalry? No, that can¡¯t be it. Knowing you it¡¯s something more like¡­ferocity.¡±

    ¡°Strength.¡± Her hand tangles in my hair and guides my head to her breast. I¡¯ve learned that she is just like me and prefers a little force. Instead I tease her, sucking at her gently while I slowly run my tongue around her nipple. She groans in frustration but I refuse to escalate this because she won¡¯t be talking. The clock is ticking. She won¡¯t let it continue like this for long. ¡°Strength and honor. The warriors are the queen¡¯s sword and the people¡¯s shield. We lead the way against enemies of the forest. May we fall before our brothers.¡±

    Her grip in my hair has become painful. I think I¡¯ve pushed this to the limit. Never mind. I¡¯ve gotten way more out of her than I thought I would. Good job me. You can go ahead and have what you want now.

    Wasting no time, I move lower, my hands pushing aside her legs as I settle between them before moving around to her ass. I squeeze, lifting her hips a little. My mouth is level with her center. I can see the evidence of her excitement and the heavy musk of her arousal fills my nose.

    Leaning forward, I run my tongue along her lower lips before latching onto the swollen bud above them, applying a bit of pressure with my teeth.

    Kierra hisses as her hips buck forward, her hands twisting in my hair and pulling me closer. ¡°Ooooh. That¡¯s¡­a good girl, Lou. You¡¯re so good. Don¡¯t stop. Don¡¯t ever-¡±

    She¡¯s about to ask me not to leave. I know it by the sudden way she chokes back her next word. I don¡¯t have to look up to know her eyes are shut with anguish as she contemplates her impending return to solitude.

    Don¡¯t worry, my sad little elf. I won¡¯t leave you. You don¡¯t know it but you¡¯re leaving this forest with me even if I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming. I won¡¯t care if you struggle. This is your fault. Being with you is making me bolder in ways I couldn¡¯t have imagined.

    I won¡¯t tell you this now though. Right now, I¡¯m going to enjoy this moment and make sure that she forgets everything but me. Ah. She actually tastes sweet, as if I¡¯m drinking nectar from a flower.

    I think I¡¯ve found my new favorite dessert.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 11

    I¡¯ve found that I don¡¯t need as much sleep as I used to and, with a little practice, I¡¯ve taken to waking up earlier than Kierra.

    I use this time to practice, both what she¡¯s taught me and ideas of my own. I¡¯ve gotten quite used to my body and manipulating it into different shapes. I¡¯ve gained a few more templates due to Kierra¡¯s efforts to feed me. I am the complete opposite of a picky eater.  If it¡¯s organic, I can eat it. The only one as useful as the wolf template is the dusk hawk, a large brown-feathered bird of prey.

    Kierra, my lovable little sadistic elf, sent me on more night excursions. After another terrible experience where something over ten feet tall tried to rip me apart, I wised up. Nothing too big flies through the forest on account of the branches and the dusk hawk gives me a bird¡¯s eye view. It makes it so much easier to find my way home. I¡¯m constantly amazed by this body of mine.

    I¡¯ve mastered it to the point where I can not only shift between the forms with ease but shift only a part of my body. For example, I can wear my human skin but my entire insides can be my elemental form. Or I can be human while I change my insides to the ears or the nose of the wolf to give my senses a boost. The only time I¡¯m strictly human is when I¡¯m together with Kierra. I think she likes being stronger than me.

    Today, I¡¯m practicing with the bow. A tree 20 meters away has a red dot painted on its bark. Hitting the dot is simple. I¡¯m testing myself by drawing a circle around it with arrows. Adjusting my aim so they go around perfectly is difficult.

    Mainly, the activity focuses my mind and allows me to think. And I have a lot to think about.

    I managed to weasel quite a few clues out from Kierra about her circumstances. I¡¯m a hundred percent confident that it has something to do with her being a warrior. She said they fight enemies of the forest and are some kind of spiritual leaders, symbolizing strength and honor. She also said that she was trapped here because of something she didn¡¯t do.

    The most logical conclusion is that there was enemy she would not, or could not, kill. And if she is trapped here in this forest until she makes that wrong right, then that must mean whatever she needs to kill must be in this cage with us.

    I have yet to run into a monster that could fit the bill. I managed to pin the elf down but that was when she was chasing after me recklessly. If she were to stay at a range and use her bow, I¡¯d never see her coming. Again, I¡¯m sturdy so I might manage, but I¡¯m not made of flesh and blood when I don¡¯t want to be. Anything with an eye that can be pierced with an arrow doesn¡¯t stand a chance.

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    Uwah. If I want to help her, I¡¯m going to have to fight something incredible, aren¡¯t I? I am not looking forward to this but it doesn¡¯t shake my resolve. I¡¯ve already decided that I¡¯m going to help her and that¡¯s that. Nothing else but to do it. The only thing I need to do now is find the thing. Kierra¡¯s cage is very large, with a radius of 200 miles. Covering that in the few hours I have a day when she¡¯s sleeping without her noticing is going to be tough.

    Breathing in deeply, I release the arrow on my exhale. The arrow speeds through the air with a whisper, completing a jagged circle. Eh. The angles are off but nobody¡¯s perfect.

    A sharp intake of breath makes me turn around. I nearly drop my bow in surprise when I see Kierra standing behind me with an expression crossed between amusement and confusion.

    She walks past me to the tree, examining my handiwork. Then she comes stomping back over, her eyes narrowed in a glare that contradicts the slight smile on her face. ¡°You¡¯ve been holding out on me, Lou.¡±

    ¡°No, no. Those were just lucky shots. I¡¯m honestly terrible.¡±

    ¡°There were no scrapes along the bark from any near misses and torn shrubbery from any wide shots. Not a single arrow has touched your little bullseye but instead, you¡¯ve drawn a circle. Such a fanciful display must mean that simply hitting that tiny dot is too simple for you.¡±

    She advances on me and I back up a step. Oh no. What is that look she¡¯s giving me? I haven¡¯t seen that before. It¡¯s a cross between exasperation and something stronger. ¡°This is a, uh, recent development. I¡¯ve been practicing. I¡¯ve been on a lucky streak.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve seen you. You are up an hour before me every day and come out here to practice. I can feel your concentration from my room.¡± Another step. ¡°And yet, when we practice together, your mind is adrift with other thoughts.¡±

    ¡°Um, I can explain¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need.¡± She¡¯s right in front of me, shoulders stiff. ¡°I know exactly what this is about.¡±

    Her arms go around me and she pulls me into her chest. ¡°You don¡¯t need to pretend to be bad to stay with me, Lou. I¡­I don¡¯t want to hold you here. You have a family out there that probably misses you, a life you want to get back to. But if you want to stay here, then¡­then¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, for crying out loud!¡± I pull away from her, dodging her hands when she tries to pull me back. ¡°Will you please just say what you want!? You want me to stay, right?¡±

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Yes or no, you frickin'' elf!¡±

    ¡°I¡­want you to stay.¡± Her eyes are wet with tears and she bites down on her lower lip to hold back sobs. ¡°I¡¯m tired of being stuck here alone. I want to go home! I want to see my family again. I want to show you my village and I want to shoot your idiot father and I want to try that garbage ale you snuck out so often to drink. I don¡¯t want to be stuck here anymore!¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I shush her, moving back into her arms. I can feel her trembling but she still refuses to let even a single tear fall. ¡°I know. That¡¯s why we¡¯re going to get you out of here. Together.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Whatever this thing is, we¡¯ll find a way to beat it.¡±

    She stiffens. ¡°I never-¡±

    ¡°You said enough. I have no idea what kind of beast you were hunting-¡±

    ¡°Trolls.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Kierra sighs deeply. ¡°It would be better if we had this talk inside.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 12

    I let her guide me back into the tree. She lets me go after I shut the door, moving to the far wall to trace one of her skulls. ¡°I¡¯m not just any warrior. I am D¡¯Atainna.¡± She chuckles softly. ¡°Of course, that means nothing to a slacker like you. It was more than a little refreshing to see someone not react to my last name.¡±

    I¡¯m sorry. Forgive me for my lack of sincerity. I promise to do better in the future. ¡°Your last name. It means something then?¡±

    A small quirk of her lips. ¡°Atainna is the name of the royal family.¡±

    ¡­eh?

    Did she just say the word royal? I am a noble. That word makes us do funny things. Like, cower. That¡¯s what I do when I so much as hear one of the royal family is coming to town. I don¡¯t care how great your reputation is or how many commoners sing your praises, someone with that much power terrifies me. Seriously. A royal can end you in so many ways for just the slightest offense. Oh, saints protect me. Didn¡¯t she say she wants to take me back to her home? Have I been sleeping with an elf princess?

    I am dead. I am so very dead. I think I might want to just stay here after all. The tree isn¡¯t so bad. The company¡¯s great and there¡¯s plenty of wolves around to snack on. Yeah. Let¡¯s stay here and avoid your mother who may or may not be a queen. I am so dead.

    ¡°Lou? Are you alright? You look pale.¡±

    ¡°Are you a princess?¡±

    Kierra snorts. That sound is the best sound in the world to my battered nerves. That sound says I¡¯m ridiculous to even suggest such a thing.

    ¡°No. That would be my cousin.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­do you mean your second or your third-¡±

    ¡°The Queen Regent is my aunt, mother¡¯s older sister.¡±

    I swallow. Hard. Okay. This could be worse. She¡¯s not the princess and not in line for the throne. That would have been a crap storm of epic proportions. No, she¡¯s just a blood relative of the queen.

    I am so dead.

    I glare as she laughs. ¡°What¡¯s funny?¡±

    ¡°You!¡± She leans against the wall as her snickers begin to double her over. ¡°A moment ago, you look ready to fight a dragon and were spouting claims about taking on whatever beast has kept me trapped here, but I explain my family name and you¡¯re ready to slink off into the shadows.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re talking about nobles. Royals. I can¡¯t imagine anything more vicious or savage or deadly than a royal you¡¯ve managed to piss off.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Well, you might not be wrong about that.¡± She recovers and takes a seat on one of the mats, patting the spot beside her. I obediently come over. ¡°The Atainna bloodline has strong mana. Most of us are born with two affinities. I¡¯m an even more special case. I was born with a pure physical affinity.¡±

    I whistle in appreciation. Pure affinities are practically unheard of among humans but fairly common among the other races. My tutors described it as those who are loved by an element. They instinctively grasp them in a way people will never understand, allowing them to circumvent the whole casting process entirely. Wah. That explains how she¡¯s leaping through trees and casting so easily.

    ¡°I see you understand what that means. Those of the Atainna who have not ascended to the throne have always served as warriors. My mother was born with a null affinity and is well-known. There were great expectations for me. And I met them. Until that night.¡±

    Her eyes go distant as she remembers the past. I reach over to grab her hand. ¡°What happened, Kierra?¡±

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    ¡°Trolls.¡± She gets up and grabs a skull off the wall, bringing it over for me to examine. Haha. It¡¯s not the biggest one but of course, it¡¯s the one with the largest teeth. Oh, wait. That¡¯s not teeth. Those are tusks, jutting out from either side of its mouth.

    And is that a horn? My fingers trace over a square nodule of bone on the forehead. Most horns have a circular base so it¡¯s probably not that.

    ¡°Enchanted trolls are tough and savage. Like elves, they are drawn to forests. Unlike us, they could care less about their surroundings. They strip the forests of everything and slaughter prey indiscriminately, all the while reproducing like rabbits. Their tough skin can stop arrows and every one of them is born with a pure affinity for earth. They specialize in shifting the ground, which they use to build their dens. Fifty of them could be slumbering beneath your feet and you¡¯d never know until they¡¯ve grabbed you.¡±

    Oowah. I was thinking I would have to hunt one thing down, not a pack of monsters. Isn¡¯t this a little too hard? ¡°That sounds impossible.¡±

    ¡°They are not infallible. Trolls are little more than beasts. While they have minimum organization, they can not strategize effectively and seem unable to process threats to their lives when confronted. They have only one response: attack. That can be taken advantage of.

    ¡°When the foresters came back and told the queen they had spotted trolls meandering through the forest, we went out to handle them immediately. They had already dug deep into the Enchanted Forest before approaching the lands closer to the village. Hundreds of them meandered through these trees. We were divided into teams of eight. Four confronted the beasts head-on, drawing their attention while leading them to a more favorable position for the other four, the ranged units. We provide support from the trees and wait for the kill shot.¡± A finger taps her eyebrow.

    Thank the saints for small mercies. She can kill the things. Why the heck is she trapped here? ¡°I¡¯m guessing something went wrong?¡±

    Kierra nods slowly. ¡°As we pushed further into the forest, we couldn¡¯t return home easily at the end of the hunt. The trolls were beginning to feel threatened and retreated. They may be beasts but even beasts run from a storm. The more of them that escaped, the more likely they would be back to infect the forest again.  We took to camping in the forest. That night, our sentry, the idiot, fell asleep. The trolls had been tracking us as well and ambushed our camp. They were on us before we knew what was happening.¡±

    The tension in her voice and the faraway look in her eyes makes my breath catch. ¡°I woke to the sentry¡¯s screams. A troll was right over me. Too close for me to run. Behind him, I could see signs of the battle taking place but the one over me remained still. My bow and knife were in reach. My only chance was to kill it before it killed me. But I¡­froze.¡±

    Pain and regret. I have never seen them displayed so clearly on a face before. ¡°I was the captain. They needed me. And I froze. Reinforcements arrived, drawn by the sounds of combat. I managed to survive but my entire team was slaughtered. The queen did not blame me but my mother was livid. She gathered a team and slaughtered all the females. A band of five males were put here as a test, trapped in this cage with me. The price of my admission back home is all five of their heads.¡±

    ¡°Five! You just told me you hunted these things in a team of eight and she wants you to fight five alone!?¡±

    The elf shrugs. ¡°My mother is not an easy woman to please. Ever since then, I cannot face a troll. My bow wavers and my arrows don¡¯t fly true. To redeem that stain on my honor, I cannot merely return to my old form. I must become better.¡±

    Okay. I understand the situation now. It¡¯s hard but it could be a lot worse. The more I think about it, the more doable this seems. I have a durable body so I can serve as a distraction while Kierra remains in the background. The same as they did before. ¡°We can do this.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand.¡±

    ¡°No, no. We¡¯ve got it. Look, I¡¯ll be your distraction. You know how strong I am. And you can fire your bow as far away as you like-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not it!¡± Kierra pops to her feet and paces in front of me. ¡°It is not about distance. I cannot fire. I cannot kill them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s crap.¡± I grab her arm, bringing her to a stop, and shove the troll skull in her face. ¡°This is yours, right? Your kill? Or do you hang other people¡¯s trophies on your wall?¡±

    Her lip turns up in offense. ¡°Of course it is mine.¡±

    ¡°Then you can kill a troll. Don¡¯t tell me you can¡¯t because I¡¯m holding the proof right here.¡± I push the skull into her face until she bats it away. ¡°Everybody screws up sometimes. The important thing is that you don¡¯t let it dictate the rest of your life. Come on. It¡¯ll be the same as when you hunted them before and this time, there¡¯s no chance of them sneaking up on you. Surpass your limits.¡±

    She still looks unconvinced, turning her head away from me. I start to feel a little angry and my voice is clipped. ¡°Unless you want to stay here. Do you?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how you¡¯re acting! Just tell me right now, because I¡¯ll leave tomorrow-¡±

    ¡°No, Lou!¡± She throws her arms around my neck and hugs me fiercely. ¡°I want to leave with you. I don¡¯t want to stay here.¡±

    ¡°Then we are going to kill those trolls. Together.¡±

    Kierra nods against my neck.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, stubborn elf. I¡¯ll get you out of here.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 13

    The mood is tense as we move through the trees. We have been out since dawn and have traveled to the very edge of Kierra¡¯s cage. The trees are less dense here as we near the forest¡¯s edge. It seems the trolls have still been trying to get out and have gravitated toward the north, incidentally, the same direction I needed to go if I wanted to go home. A thinker might say that my confrontation with them is fated. I have no arguments with this. From what I¡¯ve heard of trolls, it¡¯d be doing the world a favor if we killed them.

    Kierra is in her element. Even standing right behind her, I can¡¯t hear a sound coming from her and she disappears between the trees when I blink. She truly is a ghost. How she could have lost to anything here astounds me and the knowledge that she did heightens my focus. This isn¡¯t a game of tag where the worst I¡¯d get is a couple of scratches. Our lives are on the line right now. I¡¯d be lying if I said that the thought didn¡¯t make me anxious.

    Suddenly, Kierra throws out her arm, bringing me to a stop. She turns to me with a finger on her lips then points dead ahead.

    At first, I don¡¯t see anything. But then I hear it. A heavy thump as something large approaches with no attempt to hide its presence. A few moments later, the troll comes into view.

    Jeez, that thing is huge. It has to be at least nine feet tall with a thick body full of well-defined muscles. It seems to be a mash-up of all kinds of animals. The upright posture is reminiscent of a man along with its five fat fingers on each hand, but its feet are thick hooves and its head is the shape of a boar. Short fur covers most of its body, except for its chest and its backside. The tusks on the side of its mouth are yellowed, the points on the ends visible even at a distance.

    In one hand, it carries a thick branch while the other is holding the leg of a deer it drags along the ground. Every other breath, it growls, flashing sharp teeth.

    I change my insides, getting rid of my vulnerable human organs and replacing my paltry senses with that of the wolf. My improved ears don¡¯t pick up the sound of any others and I take that on faith. With the way this one is stomping around, I doubt I¡¯d miss any others.

    I regret switching to the wolf¡¯s nose though. That thing stinks. It¡¯s not so much that it smells bad. It¡¯s more that it''s pungent. Jeez. That¡¯s how livestock pens smell but why is it so strong? The only thing I can smell is the heavy musk it gives off. Even when I take away my smelling altogether, it lingers in my mind.

    ¡°I need a shot,¡± Kierra whispers as she eases her bow from her back. ¡°You must get it to face toward me.¡±

    ¡°I can do that.¡± One of my hands reaches forward and squeezes her shoulder. The gesture is meant to center me just as much as her. ¡°Here we go.¡±

    She nods and pulls an arrow from her quiver. I take a deep breath. Here we go.

    I move away from Kierra, making a mental note of her position as I circle to the troll¡¯s back. I don¡¯t want it to look up as I come dashing out of the trees and see my archer.

    I brought along the spare bow and a single arrow. If I was the hero in one of the stories the bards sing in the taverns, I¡¯d simply whistle and put my single arrow through the troll¡¯s brain when it turns around.

    A hero I am not and I have no idea how my combat abilities will measure up to this mountain of flesh. No, this is just to get its attention. Then my job is to simply not get crushed while Kierra finishes it off. Preferably from as far away as possible.

    I creep forward from my hiding place. Then, taking a deep breath, I fire the arrow.

    It hits the troll in the back of the head and bounces off. Seriously? Kierra warned me but come on. Arrows don¡¯t just bounce off skin. That was a great shot too. Trolls are ridiculous. Thank the saints these things aren¡¯t on the human continent¡­I hope.

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    The troll stops, dropping the deer it was carrying. Then it slowly turns around to glare at me. I can see the way it tenses just before it charges at me.

    I wait until it gets close before throwing myself to the side. The troll¡¯s momentum keeps it going forward and it crashes into a tree, bellowing loudly. My eyes widen when I hear a crack. What the heck? Just how strong is this thing?

    It turns around, baring its teeth at me. Behind it, I can see a dent in the bark of the tree it hit.

    A dent. In a tree.

    Saints save me.

    I¡¯m positioned so that Kierra is at my back and the troll is in front of me. This is it. Now I just need to stay alive until she gets her shot while keeping it facing this direction.

    The troll bellows and comes running at me. It¡¯s slower than before. The charge didn¡¯t work so now it¡¯s making a more controlled approach.

    The fist that comes at my head isn¡¯t particularly fast but the large hand still makes it difficult to dodge. I back away, sliding out of the way of the following attacks.

    With a bellow, the troll''s hands begin to glow with a dull gray light. The earth shakes beneath me and I stumble, falling to one knee. A shadow over my head is my only warning and I react instinctively, rolling backward. A second later, the troll brings both hands down where I was, the impact knocking up a cloud of dust.

    Damn forest creatures with their damn pure affinities. I can¡¯t even trust the ground I¡¯m standing on. Feel free to strike this thing down any time, Kierra. How long has it been since I¡¯ve engaged this thing? Twenty seconds? Thirty? I need to give her more time.

    The creatures¡¯ hands are glowing again. I¡¯m already moving before the spell can take effect. But the end of it catches me, trapping my ankles in sinking dirt. I change my leg to my elemental form and pull it free but I wasn¡¯t quick enough. The troll¡¯s leg catches me in the side.

    My new body absorbs the damage easily but the troll knocks me aside. I land face first in the dirt and spit out grass as I jump back to my feet, making sure to put Kierra at my back.

    Not a second too soon because the troll is on me again. Time to change things up a bit. I pull my arm back, making it thin and long before flicking it forward like a whip. It smacks the troll¡¯s face audibly, making its head turn as it stumbles backward.

    Blood dribbles from its nose as it growls at me, staring at me with new caution. That¡¯s right. I¡¯m not the easy prey you thought I was. Stand there and size me up. You are a still target. An arrow should be hitting you any moment now.

    But nothing comes. I am shocked when the troll comes running at me again. Why isn¡¯t this thing dead? Amid dodging its strikes, I turn around to where Kierra is hidden away.

    My jaw drops when I see her, mainly because I can see her. She has stood up from behind the bushes, leaving her exposed. Her bow is on the ground, her quiver full.

    I bite down the urge to scream at her as she takes a step forward, bringing her even more into view. What in the nine hells is she doing?

    My distraction costs me. The troll catches me full on and I fly through the air. My back slams into a tree and I slide down to its base. Durable as I am, the blow still disorientates me for a minute. I ignore the dizziness and get to my feet, knowing the troll will be right back on me.

    But it¡¯s not. Just like me, it''s spotted Kierra. Its head is cocked to the side curiously as it studies her. Some of the tension has melted from its shoulders and the step it takes forward is slow, nothing like the reckless rush of its previous attacks.

    Despite its slow movements, Kierra makes no attempt to get away. Instead, the damn elf takes another step forward. It¡¯s as if she is under a spell. Her expression is blank as she moves forward, her limbs shaking as if she¡¯s fighting an invisible force.

    I have no idea what¡¯s going on right now but I do know one thing. I can¡¯t let that thing reach her.

    I rush forward, switching to a full elemental form. When I get close to the troll, I throw my hands forward to wrap around one of its ankles and pull back as it steps forward. The troll is put off balance and falls forward. Gritting my metaphorical teeth, I swing. This is the first time I can feel a strain on my new limbs but I manage to lift the creature, throwing it over my shoulder and into the trees.

    With it out of the way, I run to Kierra, changing my head back to human so I can yell. ¡°What are you doing!?¡±

    Kierra jumps and turns to me with wide eyes. Her entire face is dark green and her lips are parted to draw in heavy, ragged breaths. The look in her eyes is wild. ¡°I¡­I¡­¡±

    The sound of the troll¡¯s bellows makes both of us turn in the direction I threw it. I swear and catch her arm as she tries to take another step forward. ¡°Are you insane? We need to get out of here!¡±

    She doesn¡¯t turn to run. Instead, I feel her push against my hold to take another step forward. Okay. Forget this. She doesn¡¯t want to be reasonable? Fine.

    Grunting, I turn full elemental and lift Kierra over my shoulder. The weight is substantial but not so much that I can¡¯t run. I stop briefly to pick up her bow before running back to the tree, hoping against all hope that the troll won¡¯t chase me.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 14

    I don¡¯t stop running until we get back home and I don¡¯t set her down until we¡¯re safely inside. And I don¡¯t so much as set her down as I throw her haphazardly, not caring if she lands on a mat or not.

    Lucky for her, she lands on soft furs. Kierra scrambles to the edge of the mat, tucking herself into the corner with her hands wrapped around herself. Her eyes are wary, verging on fear. Is she afraid of me? Good. If my face reflects even a fraction of the anger bubbling up inside me, she should have a good sense of how much I want to strangle her right now.

    ¡°What the hell were you doing?¡± I yell with enough strength that she flinches.

    ¡°I don''t know.¡±

    ¡°You don''t know? Okay. Let me tell you what I saw, cause that might just help you put some things together. Instead of shooting the thing we were there to kill, the reason you are trapped in this forest, when it was standing still, you walked out into the open, right towards it!¡±

    She bows her head to look at the ground. That only makes me angrier. I grab her chin and yank up, forcing her to meet my eyes. ¡°Do you have a death wish? You''ve spent so long in this damn tree, you can''t even imagine living outside it, huh? Let''s just get the troll to kill us, is that it?¡±

    ¡°No¡­I¡­¡±

    She trails off, biting her lip and looking off to the side. She really can''t look me in the eye. Maybe this is a situation where I should show some compassion but I can''t. The heart I didn¡¯t have still managed to stop when I saw the troll walking towards her and she seemed unable to do anything about it. That wasn''t fear. Something else is happening with her and she''s going to tell me because I cannot watch her get killed by one of those things. I won''t.

    I turn around and head for the door. Hearing it open causes her to look up and she jumps to her feet when she sees me in the doorway. ¡°Lou!? Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°Where do you think? Home.¡±

    ¡°But-¡°

    ¡°But nothing! You want to stay here so, you know what? Fine. Stay here in this tree forever. Go get yourself killed by trolls if you want. See if I care.¡±

    Her hands ball up at her sides. ¡°It''s not my fault! I can''t control it!¡±

    ¡°Can''t control what!?¡±

    Her mouth opens but no words come out.

    ¡°Kierra, you need to be a truthful with me and you need to do it right now or I''m gone. Do you understand what I''m saying? No more wheedling it out of you. Talk. Now.¡±

    She''s struggling with herself again, her eyes frantic. But this time, she fails to hold it together. Her shoulders slump heavily and she sighs, moving backward to reclaim her spot on the furs.

    I shut the door and come to stand in front of her, arms crossed. Not coddling her through it this time. I want answers.

    ¡°I wasn''t¡­fully honest with you about what happened that night. Most of it happened the way I said. The trolls found our camp and the sentry meant to be on lookout fell asleep. When I woke up, the troll was right over me.¡±

    She swallows thickly. ¡°I had never seen one up close before. The only part I had ever been concerned with was the white of their eyes and only at the moment I needed to strike. But he was right there. Too close for me to run away. My weapons were in reach but it would take a miracle for me to hit him before he crushed my skull.

    ¡°I was trapped. That powerful physique hunched over me, I realized just how lucky I had been up until then. I was one of the greatest warriors in the village and here was something that could crush me with one hand if I wasn''t careful. The trolls we fight are just stragglers. Their real home is far to the east, where thousands of them live in the mountains. I was imagining the sheer devastation an army like that would wreck on the forest and I was lying there afraid for my life and my nose was filled with that damned smell!¡±

    Hmm? Her face is green, the same dark green it was when we were fighting that troll. Now that I''m not scared she''s about to die, I realize that I''ve seen it like that before. When we were together. It''s how she looks when she''s flushed. No way. Don''t tell me she''s¡­turned on?

    ¡°I don''t know what came over me but I became¡­he could smell me. Trolls don''t care much about differences between species when they¡­smell a female in heat.¡±

    No way. I am not hearing this. She does not mean what I think she means. There''s just no way. ¡°You¡­¡±

    She looks up at me for a fraction of a second before turning away in shame, her head dipping in the slightest nod.

    ¡°You¡­were intimate¡­with a troll.¡±

    Another nod.

    ¡°¡­willingly?¡±

    A much slower nod this time.

    ¡°While your camp was being attacked?¡±

    She flinches even though I hadn''t meant it as an accusation. Still, she nods.

    Wow. I mean, I knew she was holding something back but I wasn''t expecting this. Really, anything but this. If I''ve got this right, she was getting down with a troll while her teammates were lying dead around her. That is just¡­I don''t know what it is. I also don''t know how I feel about this. These thoughts are provoking a weird bunch of emotions in me. ¡°Is that why your mother trapped you here?¡±

    ¡°Stars above, no! If my mother knew what I had done, she would have killed me!¡±

    ¡°But how did you explain, uh, you know, to the reinforcements?¡±

    ¡°¡­reinforcements never came. After he finished with me, they disappeared. I washed in a river before running to another camp. I told them a different version of events. When they asked how I survived, I told them I hid under the body of a troll someone else had slain. It also explained the lingering smell. Some said it was cowardly but it was far better than them knowing what really happened and not exactly a death sentence. Hell, it was understandable. No one should have survived at all. My teacher and many others spoke openly about how miraculous it was I managed to get out alive.¡±

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    ¡°If the warriors weren''t mad at you and no one knows what happened, why are you in this tree?¡±

    ¡°You saw why!¡± She runs a hand through her hair angrily, her expression twisting into a scowl. ¡°I can''t kill them. Once those trolls are gone, it could be another fifty, a hundred years before some wander in again. Or those could be the last on the continent. If they die then I''ll never be able to¡­I just couldn''t do it. And that was unacceptable for a member of the esteemed Atainna family. My mother didn''t even tell me what she was doing. She just had a servant lead me out here and then explain her wishes. Next thing I know, I can feel a massive spell being worked. Do you understand how extreme she is? The servant that escorted me in here was teleported out and such began my life-long sentence.¡±

    Suddenly, she is on her feet and grabbing me by the shoulders. ¡°You have to believe me, Lou, I tried. When I first found out, I immediately went to slay them. But I couldn''t shoot. My hands started to shake when I remembered that night and then before I knew it, I had come out of hiding and was walking right up to him.¡±

    Wait. Seriously woman? ¡°You slept with one of them again!?¡±

    ¡°I can''t help myself! It''s¡­whenever I smell that scent, my mind goes blank and I can''t think clearly. I''m not in control of myself until it''s too late. I tried staying away! I thought if I just avoided them for long enough, the desire would go away. But it never did.

    ¡°And then you came along. For the first time in a long time, I was smiling and laughing. And when we''re together, I don''t think about them. I¡­I love you, Lou. I thought that it would be enough. I thought that if I had you with me, I could shoot. But I can''t do it. I¡­want them. I want them so much. Please don''t hate me, Lou. Please!¡±

    She''s crying. Even as she pulls me to her to bury her face in my neck, I can feel her tears on my skin. I don''t know how I feel about this yet. This is a lot to process. The whole troll fetish thing is way out there but that''s not what I''m stuck on. What I keep hearing in my head is that she just said she loves me.

    Ah. My heart pounds harder just thinking about it. Never mind the fact that it''s probably just because I showed up after she''d been alone in this tree for decades. Would she have looked at me twice if we met under different circumstances? Don''t know and don''t care. Right now, she loves me and is clinging to me desperately. That''s all that matters.

    And as soon as I think that, I come to a decision. That''s all I care about. My hand goes into her hair, my nails digging into her scalp. ¡°I don''t hate you.¡±

    She looks up at me, eyes big with disbelief mixed with hope. ¡°You don''t?¡±

    ¡°No. I uh, eh-hmm.¡± Ugh. This is a little nerve-wracking. ¡°I love you, too.¡± I manage to force the confession through my tight throat.

    ¡°You do?¡±

    I nod. The smile that spreads over her face is tremulous and her eyes water with fresh tears. ¡°You mean it? Even though I¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, even though you''ve got a thing for trolls. I''ve got a question about that. Those things are huge. I''m guessing their, uh, equipment matches their size?¡±

    Green. Immediately green, all the way up to her ears¡­and she nods.

    ¡°Saints bless you. How did he not split you in two?¡±

    ¡°It fit. Somehow¡­¡± She shivers in my grip, her eyes looking unfocused. I guide her over to one of the furs. She refuses to let go of me so it takes a bit to get comfortable, both of us lying on our sides.

    ¡°Okay. I need you to help me understand this. No, I don¡¯t think I will understand this but I¡¯m going to try so you need to answer some questions for me.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t mind.¡± She traces my lips with her finger and I frown at her.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to distract me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to.¡± She brings her finger down and watches me with cautious eyes. ¡°I will answer your questions but I don¡¯t know if they will help you understand. I don¡¯t understand it myself.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fair.¡± I pause for a moment as I think about what I want to ask. There are dozens of questions bouncing around my head but some of them are curiosities that can wait. ¡°How many?¡±

    ¡°¡­do you mean individuals or instances?¡±

    This elf. ¡°Both.¡±

    ¡°As for individuals, I have been with each of the five at some point. Instances¡­I stopped counting after a while.¡±

    ¡°You stopped, you made it sound like you only went to them once!¡±

    Kierra scowls but I feel the expression is directed more to herself than me. ¡°Lou, I want you to imagine you are starving. In the next room over is a huge buffet table filled with all your favorite foods. Could you go years, let alone a single day, without taking so much as a single bite? And once you take a bite, could you keep from devouring what¡¯s in front of you until you¡¯re full?¡±

    ¡°I bet you were full.¡±

    Heh. Her scowl is broken by a stricken expression. She goes to look away but I stop her with a hand on her cheek and smile, showing her that I really don¡¯t mind. I¡¯m sure if her mother or the other warriors found out about her tastes, there¡¯d be hell to pay, but I don¡¯t care at all.

    Seeing the lack of judgment in my face, she relaxes and I nod. ¡°How long have you gone before¡­getting a fix?¡±

    She chews her lower lip. ¡°Going on eight years when I met you.¡±

    ¡°And the shortest?¡±

    ¡°¡­two days. And that was only because I was too sore to go back before.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that was at the very beginning of your imprisonment?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    I get it. When she first got trapped in this forest, she must have been desperate to get out. Then she probably thought it was a blessing. Here she was in a private bubble with the object of her desire. No one there to judge her and nothing to do but enjoy herself. I bet she reveled in it.

    But as the years dragged on and the lack of contact pressed on her consciousness, she probably became desperate to leave again. But by then, she would have been enslaved to her lusts. It must have taken incredible willpower to hold herself back for eight years. No wonder she was desperate for company when she came upon me. Hehe. I am still very okay with this. My luck has turned around.

    However, I have to admit that I am a bit jealous. For her to be attracted to something so much that she loses all reason just by smelling them, so much that she forgets all about me who was admittedly not in very much danger but still right in front of her, even when she claims she loves me.

    Yeah, that ticks me off. But there¡¯s nothing to worry about. From the moment I heard her confession, an idea popped into mind. A very obvious idea that is entirely foolproof and will satisfy everyone involved in this whole mess. I¡¯m giddy just thinking about it. I just need a little more information to pull it off. ¡°What exactly do you like about them?¡±

    ¡°I guess it is¡­the power. And the physicality. This forest may seem beautiful but it is a very cutthroat place. Nature herself is a kind but severe mistress. The forest surrounding my home is even worse. Simply stepping outside the village could mean getting poisoned by a copperhead or pulled into the petals of flesh-eating plants. We are taught to be strong from the moment we are born and so admire strength. Trolls are powerful. I have seen one keep fighting after being blinded in both eyes and gutted open. Of course I would admire such tenacity.¡±

    I think back to our training, how she seemed to enjoy pinning me to the ground. Was that a reflection of what she wants? Is it both? Something to think about. ¡°What else?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s just¡­something about their manner.¡±

    Hmm. From the thoughtful look on her face, I¡¯d wager she¡¯s telling the truth. That¡¯s not much to go on but I have an idea that will allow me to figure it out for myself. Cupping her face in my hands, I make her look up into my eyes. ¡°Kierra, I need you to listen to me. Everything is going to be okay. I love you and I won¡¯t abandon you here like your mother did. Do you believe me?¡±

    She nods. ¡°Lou¡­¡±

    The whisper is laced with a silent question and I answer it with a soft kiss. It¡¯s more for comfort than for pleasure and she understands, sighing against my lips instead of escalating it the way she usually does. We stay like that for hours, simply enjoying being close to one another while trading chaste kisses, whispering confessions of love in the dark. Eventually, her eyelids begin to droop. I urge her to close them and she falls asleep. When I am sure she is deep within the realm of dreams, I slip from the mat and leave the tree silently.

    Time to get to work.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 15

    The plan is simple. Kierra wants to sleep with a troll. Her mother wants her to kill them. I am a shapeshifter who can take the form of whatever I eat. I kill the trolls, eat their bodies, give the heads to Kierra to present to her mother, and when nobody¡¯s looking, I can fulfill those weird tastes she has behind the security of a locked door.

    It¡¯s so obvious. Exactly the same as the wolf thing at the beginning of my training. I am not stupid and am fully capable of learning from my failures.

    Why didn¡¯t I tell this to Kierra before leaving? Simple. I am still a little angry with her. Just a little. I told her to trust me so she knows I¡¯m not abandoning her but let her fret over it. She likes power games so this is good practice.

    Secondly, I didn¡¯t need her demanding to tag along. She¡¯s very protective. If she knew I planned to face all five of the trolls, she would follow. Then there would be a repeat of before. I may be okay with the troll fetish but I¡¯m not about to watch her get boned by one. Nuh-uh.

    I mean, not when she wants them more than me.

    More importantly, her presence would disrupt the plan. Because I don¡¯t plan to kill them immediately. I want to study them. Since Kierra doesn¡¯t know exactly what she wants, I need to emulate them as closely as possible. I don¡¯t want to be a cheap knock off. If she wants a troll, I¡¯m going to give her a troll.

    I head back to where we found the troll before. Wah. These things are the exact opposite of stealthy. It is no trouble at all to find its footprints. I begin tracking it.

    Instead of continuing north to the very edge of the barrier, it turns east. The trees show obvious signs of the trolls¡¯ habitation. Shrubs have been trampled and the trees are covered with gouges where the beasts sharpen their claws.

    The trail leads to a hole in the ground that slopes downward. Several tracks surround the hole along with evidence of their activities. Animal scraps are scattered about haphazardly, their frames twisted grotesquely. Green wolves hang around the edges of the area, occasionally darting forward to grab a snack before darting away.

    And the smell. That aroma my elf is so infatuated with hangs in the air so thickly, I think I can see it. Even my stunted human nose is clogged by it and I immediately switch to an elemental to avoid it.

    While I intend to watch them, I have no intention of wandering into their dark den amongst all five of them, nope. I find a tree that gives me a good view of the entrance to the den and curl up at its base, settling down for a nap.

    -

    As I hoped, the trolls wake me. Coming back to awareness, I see the trolls are emerging from their den. It is not a slow, lazy affair that would be appropriate for the morning. They are loud and brash with one another, jostling whoever is climbing ahead of them and kicking whoever is behind. It morphs from small blows to an all-out brawl. Their bellowing and roaring as they slam into one another scare away the scavengers.

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    I watch with rapt fascination. They aren¡¯t holding back. The biggest one, a troll with wine-red skin and a dark red mane going all the way down to his tail bone, throws a punch that cracks the top off one of the troll¡¯s tusks, sending his opponent sprawling to the ground. If that blow that been aimed a little to the right, that might have killed him.

    Another grabs one by the tusks and headbutts him. His victim hits the ground and doesn¡¯t get back up. Ah. That¡¯s what the thick bone fragment on their forehead is for. Good to know.

    When everything is said and done, the red troll is the last one standing. The others climb to their feet shakily but seem to shake their injuries off after a few moments. They jostle each other in what I think is good spirits before setting off into the trees, the red troll in the lead.

    The pecking order established, it¡¯s off to secure food, eh?

    I move between trees, keeping track of them. Each time they come upon a trail of some creature, a troll splits away from the group. The five eventually go their separate ways. I stay after the red troll. After all, if I¡¯m going to become a troll, I want to be the best one.

    -

    Trolls are very simple creatures.

    They only seem capable of three things; eating, sleeping, and fighting. No, make that four things. I forgot rutting, but there are no stranded elves around for me to get a demonstration of that. Still, I get a pretty good idea. Apparently, violence and sex are pretty closely linked in their minds. When they get angry, the blood rushes to other places besides their heads. I¡¯ve gotten a good look at that part of their anatomy.

    Kierra is amazing.

    Their lives are very routine. Late in the morning, they all emerge from the den, pushing at each other, and commence the brawl for dominance. The winner, always the red troll, takes the lead for the day. They separate and return to their dens whenever they¡¯ve caught prey. The leader takes the best meat from what they¡¯ve gathered and the others fight over what remains. Then as night begins to fall, they retreat into their den to sleep.

    They are savage animals with more strength than sense. As ridiculous as it seems, it has to be that savagery that attracts Kierra to them so much. So, a savage I must become.

    I have a good understanding of them now. It¡¯s time to get some experience.

    When the trolls separate, I follow the red one. He is on the trail of a deer, completely focused on the ground, and has no reason to look up.

    In elemental form, I leap off a branch, spreading myself wide. Coming down, I wrap myself around the troll¡¯s head tightly, cutting off its air.

    It bellows but the sound is muffled against my body. Clawed hands try to grab me but my surface is completely smooth and my victim is unable to grab ahold of me.

    He rampages, throwing himself about and ramming his head into a tree. The impact sends shocks through my body, making me dizzy, but does nothing to break my grip. My body is too sturdy and I am very determined. If I get shaken off here, there is no guarantee I¡¯ll get another chance like this.

    You¡¯re not escaping.

    The lack of air takes its toll. His hits become weaker, his movements sluggish. I tighten my hold. The loud bellowing becomes weak whimpers, the clawing a soft petting. His shaky legs give out and he falls to his knees. Still, I don¡¯t let up.

    The troll pitches over to the side and loses consciousness. I still keep hold of him. Pressed against him, my sensitive surface can pick up all manner of things. The heat of his skin. The twigs and particles stuck in its mane. And the steady pounding of his heart.

    That¡¯s what I pay attention to. I keep hold of him until the heavy pounding in his neck becomes a whisper and finally quiets. Only then do I release.

    Now the grisly part. Kierra told me she needs heads. That means no eating him outright. I have to do a little¡­dressing of the meat.

    I turn my hand into a curved blade and bring it down with all my strength on the troll¡¯s neck. It barely pierces the skin. A heavy sigh makes my undefined body ripple. This is going to take a while.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 16

    I finally manage to cut the troll¡¯s head off. Then I devour the rest of him and waste no time taking my new form.

    I am getting used to the way I see the world changing. My vantage point is higher and trolls are colorblind. Greens are coming across as red, blues as violets. They don¡¯t have the greatest vision. Details are sketchy but they have decent hearing and an incredible sense of smell. I am astounded I can smell anything beyond my odor. Certain scents just stand out while others are regulated to the background. Luckily, I belong to the latter.

    I like this body. I see what Kierra means about power. My muscles have muscles. Just doing basic stretches shows off an incredible definition. Hells, I could crush rocks on my arm. I hit my abdomen with an open hand and it feels like slapping an iron pan.

    My hands run over my body, taking stock. The short hairs that covers my body is rough to the touch but my dark mane is soft, the thin hairs shifting with the slightest breeze. My tusks are spotless ivory. Apparently, the yellowing is an effect of poor hygiene, not natural coloring. That combined with my wine red skin creates a pleasing contrast. And my snout-like nose doesn¡¯t jut out the way I would have thought. Hmm. I wonder if there is a pool of water I can gaze into nearby.

    But no time for that now. Taking the head of my victim, I carry it to the base of a tree and begin to dig. My hands are equipped with short claws that are good for digging through the tough dirt. Sigh. This would be so much easier if I somehow managed to take this thing¡¯s affinity along with its form. Fire affinity casters don¡¯t have much use outside of combat. Such is life.

    The sun is just starting to go down when I get my hole to a depth of my liking, deep enough scavengers won¡¯t dig it up. I put the troll head down and pack the dirt all around it. Then I carve a circle into the tree above it to mark the spot.

    It¡¯d be better if I had a full bladder. I¡¯ve often seen the trolls relieving themselves in the surrounding area of their den to warn off others.

    Thinking about it makes me grab ahold of my new appendage. It is a strange feeling, having something dangling between my legs, but at the same time, it is quite natural. I seem to gain an understanding of a form when I take it. Otherwise, I would have fallen on my face when I turned into a wolf for the first time.

    Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have time to do more research. The sun is going down. The other trolls will be gathering at their, no, our den and I need to be there to claim my dinner.

    -

    When I get back to the den, the other trolls have gathered. I have a frightening moment when all their eyes turn to me and I am sure they will see through my transformation. But then they back off respectfully, allowing me to choose my dinner. The sight of raw meat should turn my stomach but to my new nose, it smells quite appetizing.

    I choose three of the five juicy rabbits that are lying on the ground as the other creatures are foreign to me and retreat to my area to eat. Behind me, I hear the sound of growls and fists hitting flesh as they fight for what¡¯s left. Ah. It is good to be king.

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    When I finish, I make my way down into the den. I was prepared for them to be a confusing network but I should have known better. The walls are crudely done. The den is comprised of two rooms that branch off from the main tunnel. I sniff about them and discover that the smaller room is a private room that I, as the leader, have claimed and the larger one is shared by the others.

    I go into my room and stretch out on the hard earth.

    Sigh. This is so disappointing. I only came here because I thought there would be something to learn about the trolls¡¯ culture that I could only observe while they were underground.

    But before I go back, I want to be sure I can hack it. After all that I¡¯ve gone through, I know there is a difference between thinking you can do something and pulling it off. A day or two as a troll should prove I¡¯m ready. Ugh. This isn¡¯t going to be fun. I hope you understand how much effort I¡¯m putting in for you, my forlorn elf. If not, I¡¯m going to make sure you do.

    Sigh. The things people do for love.

    -

    I wake up to find that the ground isn¡¯t any more comfortable now than when I went to sleep on it. I stretch my stiff body, what I think is going to be a yawn coming out as a soft roar as my bones pop. I can hear the other trolls moving about the den, heading for the entrance. Must be time for morning roll call.

    I crawl through the tunnels, squinting as I emerge into the sunlight. The other trolls are ready and waiting. They¡¯re scratching themselves and licking their palms before running them across their bodies.

    Saints above, don¡¯t tell me this is what passes for hygiene? I think it is. I also think I¡¯m going to be ill when one of them scrapes out a piece of foul-smelling meat from between their teeth. At least they¡¯re thorough.

    I have no idea what triggers it but suddenly, the air is tense. I notice it when the trolls start pressing closer. It¡¯s already that time, huh? Here we go.

    I step back so I can see all my opponents, eyeing them the same way they eye me. I¡¯m not a fighter. Casters don¡¯t brawl in the mud like animals. But my training with Kierra has improved my reflexes and overall awareness.

    I¡¯m confident I can dodge a punch. I also have a few surprises that they aren¡¯t ready for but I rather not have to use them. That would defeat the whole point of this mess and no matter how dumb these things are, every living creature can recognize something different.

    The first troll makes his move, throwing a wide punch to my head. I can see it coming a mile away but only just manage to sidestep it. This body is clumsy. I almost trip over my big feet.

    Of course, another troll sees this and takes advantage. The world tilts as a troll slams into me, knocking me to the ground. Copying a move from the day before, I grab the offender by the tusks and headbutt him with all my strength.

    Okay. Bad idea. My vision is swimming and my head is throbbing. On the bright side, my opponent isn¡¯t moving. I roll the troll off me and get back to my feet just in time to see one of the three remaining trolls pick up a log and brain one of the others.

    Whoa, whoa, whoa! Weapons are allowed? They must be because the log wielding troll hits his opponent twice more before the third troll snatches the log and slaps it across the first wielder¡¯s back. It breaks, wood splinters flying everywhere as the troll collapses. He¡¯s down for the count.

    And then there were two.

    I size up my opponent. He¡¯s almost as big as I am with mottled green and brown skin. Short golden hair makes him look lighter than he is. His long mane would probably shine like a field of straw under the summer sun if it weren¡¯t dirtied by mud, guts, and dead foliage. I bet that looks weird through troll eyes. The strange colors were too much and I swapped them out for my human ones yesterday.

    I like it. Less striking than the skin I¡¯m wearing now but more suited for the forest environment. Red just stands out too much.

    This one is more cautious than the others. He watches me while flexing his large hands; huffing and puffing. This isn¡¯t going to be quick like the others. My first head-to-head battle.

    With a roar, the mottled troll comes barreling toward me and I raise my fists clumsily.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 17

    Head-to-head battles suck. Most of my body is bruised and aching. I have no idea how I came out on top. After the first couple of blows to the head, things got blurry. I think this body¡¯s size alone let me survive.

    I can¡¯t believe trolls have any energy to do anything after beating on each other the way they do. I go my own way to find food but it¡¯s hard to concentrate on anything with this pounding in my head.

    Their hunting success must be a result of their pure affinity for earth, which I don¡¯t have. This is so unfair. I have to do things the old-fashioned way while these brainless lumps of muscle can just drop the ground from underneath their prey.

    No, no. I¡¯m reverting to my old ways, complaining about everything. Remember all the training Kierra put me through. I need to do this for my elf.

    Since they have a pure affinity, it should be okay if I use one of my tricks. If it isn¡¯t, screw it.

    Going back to elemental form to get rid of my aches seems like too much of a cheat. Instead, I change the insides of my ears to that of a green wolf and my eyes to those of a dusk hawk. Much better. Trolls are blind in comparison.

    Not much compared to a pure affinity but the scales are a little more balanced. Now, time to catch dinner.

    -

    Trying to catch rabbits and deer with your bare hands is harder than it sounds. A lot harder. Pretty much impossible if you¡¯re a troll. Running between trees is difficult when you have limbs as thick as logs. I almost got somewhere trying to hit the fleeing prey with stones or, more accurately, small boulders, but it¡¯s hard to aim properly with these sausages someone might think are fingers.

    I march home, dinnerless. The other four are lingering by the entrance to the den, their kills piled in a bloody mound. The sight disgusts my human mind as my troll stomach grumbles with anticipation.

    I grab something that resembles a deer and drag it behind me as I crawl into the den, leaving the others to fight over the rest. I do my best not to think about the raw meat I¡¯m tearing into and the blood that¡¯s staining the ground I¡¯ll have to sleep on later.

    This is not disgusting. I can¡¯t let myself think about how disgusting this is because I have to do it all again tomorrow. Savagery isn¡¯t learned in a day. I¡¯ve become a troll but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve become a troll. And I¡¯m not stopping until I do.

    -

    I come roaring out of the den, startling my den mates who were still grooming. I kick the closest troll, sending him sprawling to the ground before knocking him across the face with a deer bone. The end breaks off and I stab the jagged end into his shoulder, grinning viciously as my victim screams.

    Someone knocks me to the ground. Blows rain down on my face but I ignore the pain. Grabbing the attacker by the tusks, I roll him off me, straddling his waist. Then I pull his head up and slam it into the ground. Over and over, until he stops fighting.

    Heart pumping from adrenaline, I get to my feet and search for the next opponent. Again, the mottled troll faces me but this time, he¡¯s swaying on his feet after taking down his first opponent. Looks like it¡¯s going to be an easy victory this morning.

    We trade blows. I concentrate on protecting my head, taking the heavy blows on my chest and abdomen with barely a grunt. I started out fighting like them; lashing out wildly until my opponent went down but I wised up on the third day when a sneak attack across the back of my skull knocked me unconscious.

    First and only time I lost. Picking through bloody scraps while the selfish, upright pigs around you try to steal your dinner when they haven¡¯t even finished their own portions is not my idea of a good time.

    That loss taught me not to just rely on my strength. To strike decisively and make sure they don¡¯t get back up.

    He¡¯s not going to accomplish that with his flailing. Is one day enough for them to forget how tough this body of mine is? It doesn¡¯t take long before he starts slowing down and I¡¯m not even bruised. I make my move.

    Stepping past his next attack, I clasp my hands together and swing them like a hammer, putting my body behind the blow. The troll¡¯s head snaps back and he falls to the ground.

    I roar out my victory, pounding on my chest as I dare the losers to challenge me again, circling them. As I pass by the trolls, I kick their sides until they climb back to their feet.

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    These losers owe me dinner and it better be something special. I¡¯ve spent over a week amongst these animals. I¡¯m plenty savage. With the mood I¡¯m in, I could break their tusks off in a fit of rage. I smell like a troll, to my horror, I walk like a troll, and I fight like one.

    It¡¯s time to go back to my elf and deliver my surprise. Hehe.

    -

    I wait until the other trolls have come into the den and I hear their heavy breathing. Then I creep out of the den and begin collecting foliage; dead branches that have fallen, rotted logs, and the smaller greenery I can pull up. I take my bounty and stack them into the main tunnel.

    I believe that I could take them all out one by one but if I did that, they might get spooked and try to run. Then I¡¯d be chasing them all over the Enchanted Forest for days on end, longer if they were even a little clever about it. No, not me. Best to get them all in one go.

    And finally, magic! Ah, fire affinity. I knew you would come in handy eventually. At the beginning of the tunnel where the last of my kindling is stacked, I close my eyes and concentrate.

    Now that I¡¯m not pressed for time or about to be eaten by giant bugs, I can focus on what I¡¯m doing.

    The first step to casting magic is to be aware of mana. Since it''s concentrated in the blood, gaining awareness of it is as simple as focusing on the blood and the heart that pumps it. Knowing that it circulates in the bloodstream is to know that it saturates the body with mana the same way.

    While I did slack on my studies, this has been ingrained since I could understand words. It comes naturally. I know I have control of it when I feel a weight on my chest.

    Channeling mana is a stressful exercise. If one tries to overexert themselves, the pressure on the heart intensifies and in extreme cases, it can explode under duress, killing the caster immediately. Such is the measure of a caster, how much mana they can channel before it becomes too much to bear.

    My capacity has definitely increased. Before, I couldn¡¯t differentiate blood from mana as it was being pumped. Now, I can feel something else moving with the blood, a kind of heat pushing outwards from my heart, or my mana core since I¡¯m casting right now, growing weaker as it reaches my fingers and toes.

    I¡¯ve heard about this level of awareness. My father told me that it¡¯s reserved for casters with a capacity of at least 100. That¡¯s over double what I had when I left for the Grand Hall. I think I¡¯m excited to see what I can do now.

    Cosmo, you lovable all-powerful elemental, I take back every curse against you. I might have to kiss you when we meet again.

    With a grip on the energy needed to power it, I began building my spell. Most casters could do something as simple as starting a fire instantly, but I won¡¯t feel comfortable unless I work it out in my mind. Lack of experience and all.

    Spells are divided into groupings of numbers that explain what it does. The more groupings you have in a spell, the more exact you can get the effect to be. A grouping consists of a variable and a coefficient that describes it.

    The first group is what you want to effect. For that, I put in the variable for fire affinity and a coefficient of 10. Some of this bark is tough and I need to make sure it burns.

    The second group is the range. This one is a little trickier as I want to do something special. I put in a variable of 1 but then I draw a line before putting in another variable of 20. The reason why this is tricky is that the line means I want the spell to travel from its starting point to a distance of 20.

    Thing is, I have no idea how far 20 is. There is a whole class of study dedicated to the units recognized by mana that I, of course, slept through every lesson of.

    Hopefully, this works.

    Keeping the spell firmly in mind, I call on my mana and channel it through my upraised hand. I can¡¯t see it but I know my eyes flare brightly, a sure sign that someone is casting.

    A large wave of fire bursts out through my palm with a loud whoosh, rushing over the kindling and setting it ablaze. I cough at the heavy smoke that rises as the leaves and branches crackle under the intense heat.

    I step backward, watching the thin smoke as it pushes further into the den. Now, to wait.

    -

    I got the idea to use smoke against the trolls from a story sung by a scraggly bard passing through the town. Apparently, fire breathing dragons aren¡¯t immune to smoke and devious knights.

    Still, it¡¯s surprising how effective it is. I thought for sure they would realize what was going on and come charging out of the den, angry and desperate. I¡¯m waiting in my troll form, leaning against a heavy log as I wait for the first combatants to make it through.

    No one does. When the fire gets low, I throw my log on top of it and it roars back to life, burning well through the night. After the final embers have gone out, I turn into an elemental that doesn¡¯t have lungs and make my way into the den.

    The large room where my den mates sleep is filled with so much smoke, I wouldn¡¯t be able to see if I had eyes. No idea how I can see.

    The trolls haven¡¯t moved. They died in their sleep, completely unaware of the danger. Seeing them, I feel a small spike of guilt. Very small and easily ignored. Trolls aren¡¯t very likable and my most prominent memories with them are the five of us beating each other into submission.

    I cut heads and swallow bodies, getting four more templates. Then I go back to the tree where I stored the red troll¡¯s head and dig, adding it to the collection. The morning sun is peeking through the trees, dawning on a new chapter in my life.

    It¡¯s time to go back to my elf.

    -

    I throw open the door to the tree, expecting to be grabbed by a tearful elf anxious for my return. ¡°I¡¯m back!¡±

    Silence.

    Hmm? Wait, that¡¯s not right. She should be here. I purposely came in the middle of the day. Normally, she would be just returning from a hunt or already settling down for her midday nap.

    A quick search of the tree reveals she is well and truly not here. I settle down on the first floor, setting my troll heads on the ground while I lounge on one of the mats. The minutes drag on as I anxiously wait for the door to be opened. Heh. Funny how this ends up the exact opposite of the way I imagined it.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 18

    It¡¯s another hour before the door to the tree swings open. I am shocked by Kierra¡¯s appearance. She looks beyond tired, deep red bags under her eyes making them puffy. Her shoulders are heavily slumped and her lips are pressed into a deep frown. Hmm? Maybe I should have said something more to her, explained what I was doing. Right now, she looks as if someone just poisoned her puppy. I mean, she hasn¡¯t even noticed I¡¯m here, dragging herself over to the ladder without even looking up.

    ¡°Eh-hmm.¡±

    Her head snaps up so fast, I think it might snap off, eyes going wide with shock. ¡°Lou!?¡±

    I wave. ¡°Honey, I¡¯m home.¡±

    She flounders for a moment as words fail her. Then she forgets talking altogether, throwing her bow to the ground as she tackles me to the furs with a loud cry. I try shushing her but it''s no use. She¡¯s outright bawling, completely breaking down. It¡¯s a little disconcerting seeing such a strong personality reduced to tears but another part of me enjoys the way she tightly holds onto me as if I might disappear if she looks away.

    Deviancy, pure and simple. I might as well accept it.

    ¡°I thought you left me!¡± she finally manages to get out after nearly an hour of me trying to calm her down, her crying quieting to soft sniffles.

    ¡°I told you that I was going to stay with you. Didn¡¯t you believe me?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to, but I was alone, and you weren¡¯t here, and I thought it was happening again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere. Well, I am. Going home. And you are coming with me.¡± I gently push her back to her feet, directing her gaze to the five troll heads arranged on the ground, throwing my hands wide. ¡°Ta-da!¡±

    ¡°¡­oh.¡±

    That is not a cry of happiness, but it is along the lines of what I was expecting. Her expression is a mixture of relief and horror. I stop myself from laughing as she holds back her dismay to force a smile to her lips. ¡°Thank you, Lou. It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s for the best. I can go home now. Thank you. Really.¡±

    I can¡¯t help it. I laugh.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You look like the world is going to end!¡±

    She waves her hand at the heads and sighs. ¡°I cannot say that I am¡­entirely glad. But I knew this would come to pass one day. It¡¯s for the best. I¡¯m just lucky you came along. Who knows how long it would have taken me to muster the will to do it myself?¡±

    The words are reassuring but her features are crestfallen. And she hasn¡¯t looked away from the heads once.

    How best to handle this? Well, her reaction to my absence was a bit more extreme than I imagined it would be so I should talk her through this one. My elf has not handled surprises well thus far. ¡°Kierra.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°You do remember I am a shapeshifter, yes?¡±

    She doesn¡¯t put it together immediately. Her thoughts are too preoccupied with the reality that her illicit tryst with the savages has come to an end. I know the words have registered when she freezes. Slowly, just her head turns, and she looks at me out the corner of her eye. ¡°You don¡¯t mean¡­¡±

    I nod, a wide grin spreading across my face.

    ¡°But¡­y-you wouldn¡¯t¡­I couldn¡¯t ask¡­we-¡±

    I step forward and stop her stuttering with a finger against her lips like she has done so often to me. Staring deep into her eyes, I let some of the roiling emotions that have been building within me for the last few days color my voice.

    ¡°I would. You could. And you don¡¯t have to ask because I want to do it. After all, I¡¯m the only one who can do this for you. There¡¯s no need to flatter me with pretty words. I¡¯m not extraordinary. The only reason you feel so strongly about me is that I was the one who came upon you in your worst hour.¡±

    She starts to rebuke me but I shush her. ¡°No. It¡¯s a harsh truth but I am okay with it. Because I found you and I have something that will keep you bound to me. Something only I can give you.¡±

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    I grab ahold of my troll specs from the menu and feel the familiar ripple of my body changing. Kierra tilts her head back to keep her eyes focused on mine. I let out a low growl and the elf melts. That¡¯s the only word to describe it. It¡¯s as if every bone in her body turns to water in an instant. She would have hit the floor had I not caught her in my arms.

    I pick her up and drop her onto the furs. Haugh. She was right. It¡¯s the smell. From the moment I turned into this form, her arousal invaded my nose, crowding out everything else. Saints above. No wonder she survived the troll attack. When it¡¯s surrounding me like this, I can only think of one thing. The sheer power of the desire heating my blood could stop a club mid-swing.

    Acting instinctively, I tear off her cloak and rip away the front of her dress. Her breasts, which seemed so large to me before, easily fit into the palm of my larger hand as I squeeze one of them roughly.

    She cries out, her spine arching. I can see her thighs slick with her excitement and my mouth waters. It¡¯s been days since I¡¯ve been with her, the longest I¡¯ve gone since we¡¯ve gotten together. A new desire burns through me as the thick member between my legs starts to rise with a powerful ache, but it is put behind my familiar desire to taste her.

    Grabbing her by the ankles, I pull her legs apart and kneel between them, shoving my short snout against her lips. Pressed up against the source, the smell makes my head spin. It¡¯s hard to think and instinct is taking over.

    I stick out my short, flat tongue and run it over her slit before pushing past the plump lips to reach inside. Kierra has become a writhing creature. The constant movement makes it hard for me to focus on my snack and I growl in annoyance before pressing one of my hands to her stomach, pinning her down. Her squirming is reduced to twitching as she fails to push past my strength. Her hands move over every part of me they can reach, tangling in my mane briefly before grabbing hold of my tusks. She pulls me toward her while her hips buck upwards as much as they are able, grinding herself against the slithering muscle teasing her walls.

    It isn¡¯t long before her moans turn to screams and a flood of juices coats my tongue. I slurp down the gush noisily, snorting as it tries to invade my protruding nose.

    The ache between my legs is too powerful to ignore. I pull away from her and reach a hand down to grab it. Ugh. Just touching it makes my whole body jerk with pleasure. I have no idea how the soft flesh can be as hard as stone now but it is, the dark veins running along the brighter red skin standing out sharply.

    Saints, I am big. I look from my cock to the pouty lips of the green-faced elf who watches me with half-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. The thought of trying to fit this thing into her makes me queasy with anxiety but my troll body has other ideas. I don¡¯t even realize I¡¯m moving until the pad of my thumb pushes into her, making her groan.

    I¡¯m panting with excitement as my other hand grabs ahold of my cock and guides it to her entrance. When I feel my head pressing against it, I grab her waist and push forward.

    It takes a little effort, but I get the head through. Oooh. This is¡­this is much better than I could have imagined. The feeling of her warm, slick walls constricting around me spreads a pleasant heat through my body, urging me to go deeper.

    Kierra¡¯s screams have quieted. Her eyes are shut tightly, her hands covering them as she whimpers, body twitching every time I move.

    I¡¯m making steady progress but it gets harder. Halfway, my cock thickens and I¡¯m having trouble getting it through. My instincts tell me to just ram it in but I hesitate. Unlike actual trolls, I care if I hurt her and this seems like it will.

    ¡°L¡­¡±

    Hmm? I raise my head to see Kierra staring at me. Her pupils are dilated, the look in them glassy and faraway. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s aware of anything around her as they focus more at the ceiling than on me.

    ¡°L¡­Lou¡­Lou¡­g-give me¡­¡±

    This elf. Here I am worried I¡¯m about to break her and she¡¯s begging me for more. Heh. I am nowhere near the deviant she is. It should be alright, shouldn¡¯t it? After all, she¡¯s already been with this body of mine before and doesn¡¯t seem worse for it.

    Besides, she wants a troll, right? I determined that I would be that for her. It¡¯s time to put aside my human way of thinking. Trolls simply take what they want without concern for consequences. I want this female. So, I¡¯m going to take her.

    Growling deeply, I tighten my hold on her waist, uncaring that my claws shred her skin and draw blood. Then I push forward with all my strength.

    I sink into her down to the base. A strangled cry reaches my ears but I ignore it, focusing entirely on the feeling I get being buried in her. It¡¯s perfect. She¡¯s perfect. And she¡¯s all mine.

    I pull out until only the tip is left inside her and push forward again, slowly picking up my pace. My cock begins to slide more easily as she becomes wetter and, the slick heat only enhancing my pleasure. I feel her climax, her walls becoming so tight about me its almost painful but I don¡¯t stop my movements, slamming into her with so much force her entire body moves forward. I almost lose my grip on her several times and have to drag her back where I want her as she slides over the furs.

    Pressure builds from the base of my cock. With every slam into her, it intensifies until it''s nearly painful. I become wild in my struggle to relieve it and my thrusts become frenzied, almost brutal.

    And then suddenly, the pressure rises through my member and explodes forth. I stiffen above her, my tongue lolling out of my mouth as my load shoots forth into her. Spurt after spurt fills the tunnel I¡¯m buried in as pleasure rushes up my spine, spreading throughout my body and sending my head spinning.

    The sheer volume is too much and thick white liquid spills out from inside her, dripping onto the furs. Ugh. It feels even better inside her now as my seed makes sliding against her even easier. My cock has softened a little after my release but moving inside her is making it rise to painful stiffness quickly.

    I want to have her again. It¡¯s okay. She can take it, right?

    She¡¯s going to take it.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 19

    The next morning finds us in the same place. Our exertions led us to wake later in the day than usual but despite the late hour, we lounge  atop the furs on the first floor. I switched back to my elemental form when we finished, since a troll couldn¡¯t fit comfortably on one of the mats. We had been awake for a while but neither of us wants to move, still wrapped in the afterglow of our passions.

    Kierra is pressed against my side, humming tunelessly while she traces patterns through the points of light glinting across my dark surface. The light touch relaxes me and I let my mind drift, focusing on nothing specific.

    Eventually, I have to break the silence. Some pressing questions need to be answered. I switch back to human. Kierra¡¯s fingers pause in the fraction that I shift and then she goes right back to drawing her patterns. Heh. Someone¡¯s gotten used to me. ¡°Eh-hmm.¡±

    ¡°Yes, dedia?¡± Kierra whispers into my ear, her voice dripping with honey.

    Hmm? I wonder what that means. It sounds intimate, a suggestion further supported by the loving gaze tinged with just the slightest amount of heat. Her fingers drift lower, tracing the area just beneath my navel.

    Hey, now. You can¡¯t be serious. You want more? Didn¡¯t you say that you get too sore? Then again, she becomes irrational when it comes to her troll fixation.

    I grab her wrist and guide her hand upward to a safer area. I may know that we need a break but that is still really distracting. ¡°We need to talk about what we¡¯re going to do about the heads on the floor.¡±

    I look over to them, tucked into the corner of the room. Thankfully, the eyes are turned away. I don¡¯t think I could lay here comfortably with them staring at me. I wonder if I can keep the red troll¡¯s skull? It would look good on my wall. Maybe I can even get something to polish the tusks so I can get it back to gleaming white.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have to do anything.¡±

    ¡°Hmm? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I imagine that mother has a tracker scanning my cage every other day or so. Eventually, someone will show up outside the tree to collect me. Until then, there is no need to do anything. We can stay right here.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Don¡¯t you have to hunt?¡±

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    ¡°I have some supplies on the third floor. They will last.¡±

    ¡°The heads will start to smell if we just leave them there.¡±

    ¡°I will wrap them in something later.¡±

    ¡°¡­you seriously want to lie in bed and do nothing all day?¡±

    She rises up over me, face flushed green. ¡°Not nothing, dedia.¡±

    This time when her hand moves lower, I don¡¯t stop her, biting my bottom lip as I consider. As soon as I realize I¡¯m doing it, I stop though. Am I this easily influenced? I must be. Even though I¡¯m worried about her, I¡¯m already becoming more enraptured by the thought of repeating last night. ¡°You told me the shortest time you¡¯ve gone without was two days because you were too sore after being with one of them.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. I might have allowed you to misunderstand me there.¡± She throws her leg over me, straddling my waist. ¡°The longest I had abstained was two days but it was not after being with one of them. My judgment severely compromised by my new freedoms, I boldly walked before their den.¡±

    Oh, saints above. If she walked before all five of them smelling the way she does¡­

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°Your expression says you understand. Yes, they competed over me and their aggression whipped up their passions. When all five had had their turn with me, it was all I could do to limp back home. I believe the only reason I made it back without being preyed on by something is that I reeked of trolls.¡±

    Five trolls. She slept with five of them at the same time while they were in the midst of the battle frenzy. And then she went back for more two days later. ¡°You are a deviant.¡±

    My elf laughs heartily, the sound like tinkling bells. ¡°I believe so. But you are not much better, dedia.¡± She leans down, close enough that our noses are almost touching. ¡°The way you went at me. Mercilessly driving yourself forward, snarling and snapping at me whenever I dared to try to pull away. I had no idea there was such an animal in you.¡±

    I try to squirm away as she licks my cheek. What the frick? This elf. Just when I think I¡¯ve seen everything, she goes and does something like this. An animal in me? You¡¯re looking at me like you want to eat me alive while grinding yourself against me. I can feel how excited you are as you nip at me, you frickin'' savage. Gah! I thought we were through with the biting!? ¡°Watch it! You don¡¯t want me biting back with my new teeth.¡±

    She moans at the suggestion. ¡°Yes! I want it.¡±

    Seriously? Troll teeth are sharp. If I tried doing what you¡¯re doing, I¡¯d rip your throat out. But knowing you, you¡¯d probably bleed out with a smile, still moaning to be fucked.

    ¡­that¡¯s kind of hot.

    I am a little afraid of what I¡¯ll turn into hanging around this elf.

    ¡°Come on.¡± She brings herself up to whisper against my lips. ¡°You said it. That you¡¯d keep me chained to you with this. Do it, dedia. Fuck me until I can¡¯t think about another lover ever again. I want it, Lou. Give it to me. Give me more.¡±

    I can¡¯t imagine anyone with the willpower to ignore such a plea. I certainly can¡¯t. With a thought, I change into a troll, snarling as my cock immediately rushes toward erectness.

    Kierra coos over me, running her hands over the wine-red skin of my chest before sliding them up my neck to grasp ahold of my tusks. ¡°That¡¯s a good girl.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 20

    Even though I was expecting it, the knock on the door two days later still startles me. We¡¯re on the second floor, tangled up in the warm furs. I turn panicked eyes to my elf but she rises without worry and tosses me a dress to put on. ¡°Time to go, dedia.¡±

    ¡°And time to meet your mother.¡± I swallow nervously as I put the dress on. ¡°Is there anything I need to know? Like, do I bow or curtesy or you know, anything?¡± Specifically, something that will stop me from getting smote for sleeping with a blood relative of the queen. Sigh. I was so caught up in our new shared pleasure that I forgot that I could be moments away from death. At least, if elven nobles are anything like human ones.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do anything, Lou. I will handle it. Though¡­¡± She turns to me and presses a soft kiss to my lips. ¡°Shall we keep your talents a secret, hmm? Mother is very fond of power. If she knew what you were capable of, she would not be so keen to let you leave.¡±

    She¡¯s talking about the fact that I¡¯m part elemental. Wah. Here I am afraid that I¡¯d be murdered on sight. It never occurred to me that I might be kidnapped and used for someone else¡¯s gain. Now that it''s been mentioned, it seems pretty obvious though. Note to self. Remain in human form while around powerful people.

    Kierra nods as she sees I understand. ¡°Good. Let me go grab our tickets.¡±

    She scrambles up the ladder and comes down with a leather sack tucked underneath her arm. Then she waves for me to go down the ladder before her.

    On the first floor, Kierra stops by the door and looks back at me patiently, waiting for me to bring my nerves under control. Ah, thank you. I need a moment. After a few deep breaths, I nod, saying I¡¯m ready. She gives me a gentle smile before opening the door.

    Standing a short distance away with their back turned to us is another elf. I immediately spot several differences from mine. Their arms are pale, lacking the green tint I¡¯ve become accustomed to in Kierra and their hair is a short straw-colored blonde. They also wear leathers but metal armor is laid over them. A half cape over their right shoulder shows an insignia of a bird trapped in a cage of branches, flowers blooming off them. A heavy sword hangs at their waist.

    As the door closes behind us, the elf turns around. I frown as I take in the delicate features of their face. Is it a guy? I want to say yes because there is no obvious swell of the chest but if it is a he, this is the prettiest man I have ever seen.

    The elf smiles and throws out his arms. ¡°It is about time, kapitan!¡±

    Ah. The voice settles it. That deep timbre has to be a male.

    Kierra sets down her sack and steps forward into his arms, laughing as he lifts her into the air. ¡°It has been a long time, Rondel.¡±

    Rondel sets her down. ¡°Too long. Now. You have something for me?¡±

    ¡°Uh-hmm.¡± She picks up her sack and unfastens the string on the top before handing it over. Rondel dips his head to peer inside, his smile growing wider as he closes it with finality, redoing the string. Then he drags her into another hug. ¡°There were those who doubted you but I knew. Our kapitan would not be done in so easily. It will be my greatest honor to escort you back home.¡±

    ¡°Thank you but I will not solely take credit for my return to form. I had much help.¡±

    She turns around to me and Rondel follows her gaze, eyes widening in surprise. Hey, now. Don¡¯t tell me you seriously haven¡¯t noticed me until this moment? That is offensive. Severely.

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    Kierra waves to me and I stomp forward, annoyance drowning out my hesitation. ¡°This is Lourianne Tome. Lou, this is Rondel Sven Feldwyn. He is a warrior who serves beneath my mother and a good friend I have known for many years.¡±

    I stick out my hand, just barely holding back a scowl. At first, from the way he greeted Kierra, I thought he was just a very friendly person. Comparing that to the cold gaze he¡¯s giving me now, I understand he¡¯s just very friendly to her.

    And he hasn¡¯t let go of her yet.

    That arm looks really possessive, mister elf. Is this going to be a problem? Trust me, you don¡¯t want us to have a problem. ¡°A pleasure.¡±

    He grasps my hand briefly. ¡°Charmed.¡±

    ¡°Lou will be coming with us.¡±

    Rondel looks to her sharply. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t mean that?¡±

    ¡°I do. It is not the first time a human has been invited back to the village.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but they were of great standing. This girl-¡±

    ¡°Is of great standing with me.¡± Kierra voice hardens to iron and she steps out of his hold, staring him down with the same intensity she possesses on her hunts. I bite my lower lip to keep from cheering. ¡°She comes with me or I do not come back.¡±

    ¡°Kii¡­¡± Rondel¡¯s voice is soft as if he¡¯s trying to talk someone off the ledge but Kierra doesn¡¯t budge an inch. Eventually, he sighs, regarding me with a gaze one reserves for vermin and poisonous creatures. ¡°Very well, kapitan. Shall we depart?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    She holds out a hand to me and I grasp it, twining our fingers together as I stand by her side.  When no one moves for a solid minute I stand on my toes to whisper to her, ¡°Um¡­are we going anywhere?¡±

    Kierra chuckles softly. ¡°You do remember I said my mother is a powerful null caster, don¡¯t you?¡±

    As she¡¯s talking, the pretty man pulls out a small stone with symbols carved into it. I¡¯m focused on it when an intense wave of vertigo overcomes me. I shut my eyes as the world spins and my stomach heaves, squeezing Kierra¡¯s hand tightly to keep from keeling over.

    After a few seconds, the ground no longer feels like it¡¯s moving but I keep my eyes shut tightly to hold back my roiling stomach.

    ¡°Take a few deep breaths. It¡¯s rough for everybody the first time.¡± Kierra¡¯s voice is comforting and she has yet to let go of my hand. I lean on her as I regain my balance, slowly opening my eyes.

    We are standing in a dirt circle, surrounded by a field of flowers. All around us are trees that look exactly like the one Kierra lives in, the lower branches connected by bridges made of woven vines. Several elves are stationed on those bridges and crowding at and around the bases of the trees, staring in this direction.

    Closer, there is a circle of elves. On three sides are elves who wear the same equipment as Rondel. The books always say that elves are green but they have it completely wrong. This group is every shade under the sun; green, gold, violet, midnight black, red, brown, and even one or two who are a bright blue the color of the sky.

    Directly in front of us are a group of elves dressed in long green robes. The books tied to their waists identify them as casters. While I get an overall happy mood from the smiling warriors, this lot is unreadable, the heavy hoods of their cloaks obscuring their features.

    Kierra straightens her shoulders and steps forward, staring at this group. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again, mother.¡±

    The caster at the very front steps forward and removes their hood, revealing a violet elf with the same silver hair as my lover and her green-gold eyes. That¡¯s where the similarities end. While Kierra blazes like the sun, this woman is cold and oppressive. The air feels heavier, my shoes glued to the ground as she slowly moves her gaze between both of us. ¡°You as well, daughter. You seem to be in good health.¡±

    ¡°My stay in the Enchanted Forest did prove healing.¡±

    At that, Rondel steps forward with the leather sack and presents its contents to Kierra¡¯s mother. Seeing the troll heads, her stern expression softens from derogatory to neutral. Her eyes even hold a little warmth as she looks back to her daughter. ¡°Well done, Kierra. A great warrior can face any physical threat. Only the best can overcome the enemies that lurk within the mind.¡±

    Kierra dips her head into a bow. Her mother¡¯s eyes move to me and I stiffen under them. Wah. That overwhelming confidence. This is someone who knows exactly how powerful she is and is unafraid to show it. ¡°And I see you¡¯ve brought a guest.¡±

    I turn to Kierra with panicked eyes, not having a clue how to go about introducing myself. She flashes me a big smile and lays a hand on my shoulder before facing her mother. ¡°Mother, this is Lourianne Tome. An accident dropped her into my¡­retreat. Lou, this is Morgene D¡¯Atainna, the captain of the 1st warrior platoon.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 21

    Morgene looks at me like I¡¯m an insect crawling across her shoes. Seriously, what do you elves have against me? Still, I show I have proper manners and drop into a curtesy. I mean, this is the sister of the queen, right? That means she¡¯s a noblewoman. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Lady Atainna.¡±

    ¡°Why have you brought her here, Kierra? You know how the queen feels about outsiders coming to the village.¡±

    ¡°I do. But Lou is no outsider. It was her company that gave me the courage to face my enemies and throughout our time together in the forest, I have come to care for her deeply. I will have her as my dedia.¡±

    Ah. I was right. That word does mean something important. Something very important from the way every elf in the vicinity just gasped in surprise. Poor Rondel. His golden skin has gone pale with shock, his jaw dropping steadily as he watches the steadfast way Kierra stands.

    The real tale of the power of that word is reflected in the way Morgene reacts. Her stone exterior crumbles like a card tower against a fierce wind. ¡°Kierra, you cannot mean that.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°But she¡¯s human!¡±

    ¡°I know. Which is why I would have the ceremony done as quickly as possible, so we may return to the human continent together. Her family should be awfully worried about her.¡±

    I thought they were surprised by what she said before. This bombshell has them completely flabbergasted. The warriors have broken rank, whispering amongst themselves fiercely. Rondel looks about ready to faint. Even the steady casters are shifting about, leaning towards one another to speak quietly.

    I am not far behind them, but my reaction is going in the opposite direction. I mean, I¡¯m pretty sure there are undercurrents to this encounter that I¡¯m not picking up on but the word ceremony brings one thought to the forefront of my mind. I¡¯m pretty sure she just announced her intentions to marry and return home with me. Hehe. I was wondering when we were going to have a conversation about where to live. Love or not, I¡¯m not about to live in a tree for the rest of my life. Looks like I don¡¯t have to convince her.

    Morgene is shaking her head as she steps forward. ¡°You are not thinking clearly, daughter.¡±

    ¡°I have never had such a clear mind.¡±

    ¡°You are not! I may have made a mistake. The isolation must have-¡±

    Kierra hisses, cutting off her mother¡¯s words. ¡°Do not insult my determination. I love her and intend to spend the rest of my life with her. Nothing more, nothing less.¡±

    The elf caster turns to me with a sneer and I swallow, holding back every instinct that tells me to run. ¡°You! You have done something to her!¡±

    I open my mouth to respond but before I do, I¡¯m yanked behind Kierra¡¯s back. I peer over her shoulder to see the action has only angered her mother further. ¡°I sent you to that forest to bring you back to your senses!¡± she roars. ¡°Not for you to come back dragging a mud-shoveling human behind you while you spout nonsense about abandoning your home!¡±

    ¡°Kii.¡± Rondel has regained his composure and is watching her with large eyes. ¡°I thought¡­before you left, we discussed our union. Have you forgotten?¡±

    ¡°No, I have not forgotten. But we merely discussed it. Out of respect for our friendship, I deemed it cruel to dismiss the proposal outright but my feelings for you cannot be compared for what I feel for Lou. I would hope that you would support me in this.¡±

    Hah! From the sour look on his face, I don¡¯t think he plans to support anything. He¡¯s gripping the hilt of his sword pretty strongly.

    Hey, now. Don¡¯t do anything rash. Though it might not be. While most of the elves are still reeling from the bombshells Kierra dropped, the ones who have their senses about them look ready to support Rondel.

    Chief of which is Morgene. ¡°I don¡¯t understand this. Tell me what this girl has to offer you that your family cannot. Why would you abandon this forest we have safeguarded for hundreds of years to live amongst the hated humans who destroyed our home before!?¡±

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    Hmm? I don¡¯t know anything about this. No wonder they all hate me. Is there some kind of bitterness between our people? I really, really want to study. I have never wanted to read a book more in my life.

    ¡°She gives me everything I need.¡±

    Kierra delivers that rather weighty statement with a heated look in my direction. Oh, no. Don¡¯t do that. That¡¯s just going to rile them up even more. Especially if you¡¯re giving me that toothy smile of yours that says you couldn¡¯t give a damn. It¡¯s sexy but it¡¯s going to get us, mainly me, in trouble.

    See? What¡¯d I say? I sigh as the sharp ring of metal on metal fills the air as Rondel draws his weapon. Saints save me. Is that frickin¡¯ xanderium? They can smith mana ore?

    ¡°Stand away, Kii. If this human is fit to be unified with you then surely she can prove herself a warrior.¡±

    ¡°I think not! Shame on you for even suggesting such a thing when you know it would not be a fair competition. But if you insist on a duel-¡±

    She barks out a word I can¡¯t understand and holds up her hand. One of the armored elves in the crowd draws their weapon and throws it. Kierra snatches it out of the air, twirling it expertly. ¡°Then I will be happy to be your opponent.¡±

    ¡°Kierra!¡±

    ¡°The same goes for you, Mother!¡± She turns her sword to Morgene, who¡¯s eyes go wide seeing the tip of the blade. ¡°Now, I have never been quite certain which of us is the stronger and there has never been any reason to test the theory before as I¡¯ve had no problem with your leadership. While you may have sent me to the Enchanted Forest as a punishment, it has led to the most fortunate event of my life and I will be forever grateful to you for it. But if you try to prevent me from being with Lou the way I am meant to be, we will finally see the extent of our strengths. And the same goes to anyone else who tries to interfere!¡±

    She roars the challenge out and...the angry gazes turn to smiles and gazes of respect.

    What the heck? Are all of these elves brutes? One moment they¡¯re ready to lynch me. Then she threatens to beat the hell out of them and it¡¯s all smiles. I can¡¯t with this. Though it explains a lot about Kierra. No wonder she is the way she is. The entire people thrive on violence.

    ¡°Put down your sword, Rondel.¡±

    The warrior turns to Morgene with a stricken expression. ¡°Generale-¡±

    ¡°You know my daughter better than most anyone. Look at her. Does she look like this is merely a stunt? If you keep pointing that blade at her partner, she will remove your head from your shoulders, so I suggest you PUT IT DOWN!¡±

    Hiding his reaction to the shout, Rondel smoothly sheaths his sword and steps back into the circle of the other warriors. Morgene has finally recovered her calm, the stern expression back on her face. ¡°Well, daughter. There¡¯s no more need for your theatrics. Everyone here has taken your meaning.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Kierra sticks her blade into the ground. ¡°If we are truly done with this nonsense, I have been waiting twenty years to be welcomed home properly.¡±

    A beat passes where the air is tense with bated breaths. Then a smile breaks across Morgene¡¯s face, transforming her from an imposing figure to a beauty worth writing stories about. She holds out her hands and Kierra rushes forward into them, the two of them clinging to each other while laughing heartily.

    ¡­eh?

    Morgene holds Kierra at arms¡¯ length, putting a hand to her cheek. ¡°Look at you. Such spirit. To think that you would challenge me to combat.¡±

    ¡°I have never had sufficient motivation before.¡±

    They both turn toward me. Crap. I don¡¯t know how to handle this. This whole thing has been such a whirlwind of emotion. The wrong move can set everyone off again. Kierra looked badass holding her sword against all of them but I have no doubts as to how she would fare.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright now, Lou. They just needed to hear how serious I am.¡±

    Kierra holds out her hand to me and I immediately seek out the comfort of her presence, even though it brings me closer to her mother. Morgene looks down at me but this time the glare doesn¡¯t hold the soul-rending fury from before. No, this is just a mother staring at a suitor she doesn¡¯t believe is worthy of her daughter but is forced to endure. ¡°I would like to speak with you.¡±

    I hide my nerves behind a bright smile. ¡°Looking forward to it.¡±

    The caster sniffs derisively. ¡°Very well. I believe it is time we left.¡± Morgene steps away from us to stand in the middle of the circle. ¡°MY DAUGHTER HAS RETURNED,¡± she yells to be heard by all those watching and a cheer answers her. ¡°BUT WE HAVE MORE TO CELEBRATE. CONGRATULATIONS ARE TO BE MADE IN HONOR OF THE IMPENDING UNION OF MY DAUGHTER KIERA AND HER INTENDED, LOURIANNE TOME!¡±

    The elves surrounding us raise a big cheer, beating their hands against their breastplates, while the elves on the outer rings cheer even louder. I let out a yelp of surprise as Kierra grabs me about the waist and lifts me into the air.

    This sets the crowd into a frenzy. I can see the elves along the vine bridges hopping up and down, blowing kisses in our direction. The air is filled with color as others throw flower petals into the air, a sudden breeze whipping them into a thick cloud about us.

    My blasted elf doesn¡¯t let me down, carrying me past the others like a grand trophy. Embarrassment heats my face as we parade past, Morgene falling in step beside us while the warriors form a line behind her. Music fills the air as the elves near the bottom of the trees produce instruments and others begin to dance about.

    In minutes, this has turned from a confrontation to a festival.

    ¡­frickin¡¯ elves.

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 22

    Once we arrive at a particularly large silver tree with red leaves, the other elves break away to continue their celebrations. Kierra keeps hold of my hand as we go inside.

    This tree home has much better furnishings. For one, it has actual furniture in it. The first floor is a meeting room like before. Two large couches sit on either side of a long wooden table, a bowl of fruit decorating the middle. Against the far wall are two square tables with four chairs around them. Fur rugs sit beneath each of the tables and woven tapestries line the walls along with the skulls of big game. The wall opposite holds a fireplace.

    Wait a minute. This is a wooden house. Isn¡¯t that dangerous? Maybe that¡¯s not for fire. But then¡­oh, forget it. I¡¯ll just ask Kierra later.

    The three of us settle on the couches, Kierra and I on one with her mother opposite of us. She¡¯s staring at me. I look to Kierra for some kind of guidance on how to handle this. My elf gives me a comforting smile and pats my hand. Then she stands up. ¡°I¡¯ll get us something to drink.¡±

    ¡°A lovely idea.¡±

    Eh? Wait! Come back! Don¡¯t leave me with her! Can¡¯t you see the evil glint in her eyes? She¡¯ll kill me!

    And she¡¯s gone, disappearing around a bend.

    Leaving me alone with her mother.

    I swallow as Morgene stares at me silently. What do I do? Should I try to start a conversation? Maybe I should compliment her home? Yeah, that¡¯s always safe. ¡°I¡¯ve noticed the skulls on your walls. Kierra decorates the same way.¡±

    ¡°They are not decorations,¡± Morgene sneers. ¡°We hang the skulls on our walls so those may know at a glance our measure as hunters. To not have any would be a disgrace on my family name.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I tuck myself into the couch and turn away. Wah. Forget it. Should have known better than to try to put some effort into making her like me. I¡¯ve got Kierra hook, line, and sinker. Who cares if the old woman wants to be crooked toward me? If she wants to glare at me the whole time we¡¯re here, fine. Maybe I¡¯ll get a nap in.

    ¡°Well, well. You do have a backbone.¡±

    I look back toward Morgene. She¡¯s relaxed, leaning back into the couch. ¡°You¡¯ve finally stopped looking for my acceptance.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, I just realized it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯ve already impressed the elf who matters.¡±

    Her relaxed posture tenses a fraction. ¡°Oh? You claim my approval doesn¡¯t matter?¡±

    ¡°To me? Not a wink. I¡¯ll try to get along with you for Kierra¡¯s sake and because, you know, you¡¯re her mother and I¡¯m a generally friendly person, but I¡¯m not about to bend over backward about this.¡± Only people I¡¯ll put that much effort into something for is Kierra and myself.

    Morgene chuckles. That¡¯s exactly how Kierra sounds when she¡¯s amused. ¡°You¡¯re right.  My daughter is so besotted with you that my opinion will mean little to nothing.¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡±

    ¡°Which leaves one question. Why? What is it you possess that has her so enraptured?¡±

    A troll¡¯s cock. ¡°My charming personality.¡±

    ¡°Charming? I would say insolent.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯ve already established your opinion doesn¡¯t much matter.¡±

    The caster¡¯s fingers twitch. ¡°Be careful. While my daughter may see something worthy in you, if I think you are less than worthy, I will eradicate you and risk her ire. Despite her bravado, I am reasonably confident that I can still win, even though it would involve deadly force. I am entirely confident I could kill you before she could stop me. It isn¡¯t very wise to be so bold without her here to defend you.¡±

    Seriously, woman. You are kind of getting on my nerves. Yeah, I have no doubt you¡¯re powerful. I mean, you isolated an area of over 200 miles for twenty years. That¡¯s ridiculous. But I was reborn from an elemental with a mana coefficient over 5,000 and I managed to grab me an elf who apparently can stand toe to toe with you. I¡¯m pretty ridiculous myself. It¡¯s about time I got a little respect for that. Might have spent too long with the trolls. ¡°Who says I need her to defend me?¡±

    Morgene gives me a condescending smile. When I refuse to look away, it slowly collapses into something more serious. Then her eyes become alight with a fire I have seen several times in Kierra as her cheeks become plum flushed. Her hands twitch as her eyes begin to glow, the sign that a caster is channeling mana.

    ¡°You seek to challenge me, human?¡±

    ¡°Mother, please.¡±

    Kierra returns carrying a tray with four steaming mugs. She sets it on the table before distributing the drinks. ¡°Challenging her is not in good taste¡­for now.¡±

    ¡°¡­are you implying that there will be a time when it will be?¡±

    ¡°She is the one I have chosen after all.¡±

    ¡°Hooo.¡± They both sip their tea thoughtfully, Morgene considering me over the rim of her cup. She seems far less hostile now. Is this how it is? You¡¯ll be friendly now in the hopes I¡¯ll put up a better struggle when you try to bully me later?

    Whatever. Best to just enjoy the peace while it lasts. From what I hear in the taverns, relationships with in-laws are usually tense. Those stories didn¡¯t involve death threats but hey. That¡¯s what happens when you cross cultures. There¡¯s bound to be some¡­unusual things to contend with.

    I sip my drink, sighing in relief as the warm liquid fills my belly. The best way I can describe it is tea-flavored honey. As I¡¯m drinking, I notice the last cup still on the tray, steam rising gently over the rim. ¡°Kierra? Is the fourth cup for you?¡±

    ¡°No, no. It¡¯s for the guest who should be arriving any moment now.¡±

    Morgene groans in annoyance at this announcement. My hackles are immediately raised. Someone who this woman thinks is a problem is coming? I don¡¯t want to be here for this.

    ¡°There is no point in trying to escape, dedia. You will have to meet them eventually.¡±

    Them? Oh good, there¡¯s more than one. Hmm? How did you know what I was thinking?

    ¡°Your thoughts are as plain as day, human.¡± This time its Morgene. Crap. I should have paid more attention to my etiquette tutors. Properly deceiving people is a basic part of nobles¡¯ education.

    A commotion at the door interrupts my worries. I can hear the echo of raised voices. My eyebrows go up but the elves in the room seem completely unconcerned.

    The door is thrown open and a woman enters in a huff, a man following close behind. She is the same violet shade as Morgene but her eyes are a darker green, so much that they appear black. She is dressed in a dress similar woven from some plant or other, similar to the one Kierra wears, but what my eyes immediately focus on is the silver crown sitting daintily in her hair.

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    I freeze. No, no, no. Why did you just spring this on me without saying anything? With that crown on her head, that can only be one person. The queen. The frickin'' queen of the elves just walked into the room and I have no idea what to do. Damn it all, she knows how I feel about royals!

    A glance to the side reveals Kierra covering her mouth with a hand. You little¨Care you laughing at me? You are! Oh, you better enjoy the moment while you can. A teasing war you want, a teasing war you shall get.

    ¡°All of you warriors are the same, overprotective muscle-heads. What could threaten me in the home of the strongest caster in the village?¡±

    After her rant, the queen drops down next to her sister with a huff, the man who came in with her standing at the end of the couch. ¡°Good to see you, sister.¡±

    ¡°It is my pleasure as always, Your Grace.¡±

    ¡°And Kierra!¡± She pops up again to move across the room, throwing her arms around my elf¡¯s neck and hugging her close to her bosom. ¡°Look at you! I heard you caused quite a stir today. There was supposed to be a modest celebration amongst the warriors for your return. Now I hear the entire village is out and about, breaking open barrels of wine. Something about a union?¡±

    Her eyes move to me. ¡°And as you are the only other in the room, I would assume you are her intended.¡±

    Kierra saves me from my terrible attempts to form words by making introductions. ¡°Auntie, this is my dedia, Lou. Lou, this is Marjoram D¡¯Atainna, queen of the Violet Dusk province.¡±

    ¡°Feel free to call me Auntie, as this one does. After all, you will be family soon. Ah, the silent one over there is my consort Javil. He¡¯s a little shy.¡±

    Javil inclines his head without looking in my direction but I know it¡¯s meant for me. He¡¯s another hard one to read but unlike Morgene¡¯s oppressive silence, his is more tranquil. He¡¯s kind of cool. If I had to pick anyone here to emulate, it would be him. Pleasant, but unshakable.

    ¡°Well!¡±

    My attention is brought back to the queen as she claps her hands. ¡°Kii says she wants this ceremony handled as quickly as possible. That would be at dawn tomorrow. If this is going to work, we need to get the details hammered out as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°Um.¡± All eyes in the room turn to me and it takes everything I have not to flinch under them. Jeez. Being close to royals is making me feel nauseous. ¡°Forgive me if this is an obvious question but¡­what exactly is involved in this ceremony?¡±

    Silence. Morgene shakes her head and the queen covers her eyes with her hands. ¡°Kii, honey, my favorite little wombat skinner¡­you didn¡¯t tell your intended about the ceremony?¡±

    ¡°I thought it would be more entertaining that way.¡±

    I am worried. The things that entertain Kierra are usually violent and terrifying. Conscious of her family in the room, I do my best to keep my voice pleasant. ¡°Kierra? Would you care to enlighten me? Please?¡±

    She sets down her cup and turns to face me. ¡°Well, first you should understand the word dedia. It is a shortened form of dedia¡¯neda. Roughly translated to Common, it means ¡®half of a heart¡¯. A bit of the meaning is lost in translation. For us, it has a spiritual context.

    ¡°You see, it is said that the first elves are descended from the tree nymphs. The women bound to their trees longed to move about freely. One day, a powerful spirit of nature answered their prayers. It felt so badly for the girls¡¯ weak bodies that could not leave their trees for more than an hour that it ripped its own heart out and offered it to them.

    With its strong heart beating through them, the nymphs were stronger than ever, but their savior lay dying on the forest floor. The only thing they could do to save it was to entomb it in one of the trees. The Sacred Tree lies at the center of the our nation where that spirit still watches over us today. Every elf is pushed to grow stronger, as that is how we honor the gift of strength we were given.¡±

    The queen sighs after a long pull of her drink that she grabbed when I wasn¡¯t paying attention. ¡°A fine retelling of our history. But if you could get to the part about the ceremony the two of you will be experiencing in less than a day.¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°In memory of our great blessing, when two elves commit their love to each other, the one who proposes offers their heart to their partner.¡±

    She goes silent, a big smile stretching her lips. I am really worried. That¡¯s her bloody smile. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­mean that literally, do you?¡±

    ¡°Haha, of course not! It is purely symbolic. I wouldn¡¯t rip my heart out and offer it to you. I need that to live, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Okay. Good.

    ¡°No, no. You merely have to stab me.¡±

    ¡°What!?¡±

    Her smile widens to a manic degree. ¡°You stab me. Through the heart.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t stab you!¡± I shout, jumping to my feet. ¡°You¡¯d die!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly safe,¡± the queen reassures me. ¡°The ceremony is presided over by several healers and the blade used is as thin. Barely able to cause any damage at all. It is a symbolic gesture more than anything.¡±

    ¡°I remember my union with Kierra¡¯s father,¡± Morgene says with a sigh. ¡°Holding that blade as it entered his chest was one of the happiest moments of my life. There is something about knowing your partner trusts you enough to allow you complete control over their life, if even for a moment.¡±

    The elves in the room nod in agreement while I am left floundering. No, wait. Calm down, me. It isn¡¯t so bad. They¡¯re talking about this like it isn¡¯t a dangerous thing. No. I have to stab her through the heart. That¡¯s always dangerous but not for me. I¡¯m not the one who¡¯s getting stabbed.

    It would be better if I were. My heart getting destroyed isn¡¯t that big of a deal. Why didn¡¯t she¡­ah. Because it isn¡¯t such a big deal. This ceremony thing means something to Kierra. If she switched our roles just to avoid the danger, it wouldn¡¯t be pure, I guess. She really will risk her life for me.

    Wah. Starting to see the point of this ceremony. It¡¯s kind of romantic. In a savage way but that¡¯s the point, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s a real reflection of who they are as a people and what they value. Have to remember I¡¯m crossing cultural lines here.

    I let out a big sigh but I¡¯m smiling back at her. ¡°And you wouldn¡¯t have told me any of this until I was holding the knife if they didn¡¯t say anything?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, more entertaining.¡±

    ¡°Deviant.¡±

    I lean down to kiss her but what I intended to be an innocent peck changes into something else as she grabs ahold of my head and takes control of the kiss. At her gentle urging, I climb onto her lap as she pushes her tongue past my lips.

    This elf thinks that our life together is going to be me floundering after her pranks, scrambling to keep up with her. I can tell by the way she¡¯s trying to dominate my mouth. But you¡¯ve got another thing coming, dedia. This is one fight you won¡¯t win.

    With a thought, I change my tongue into that of a troll¡¯s, chasing her tongue back to its domain. The rough texture brushing against her own is a promise for later, one I know she understands as she moans against my lips. That¡¯s right. We¡¯ll see how entertained you are when you can¡¯t walk straight.

    ¡°Ah, to be young.¡±

    Oh, shit.

    I pull back from the kiss while reversing the change and turn my head to see the occupants of the room watching us. Even Javil, who¡¯d seemed lost in contemplation, is turned toward us, a blank expression on his face.

    I can¡¯t believe I just made out with her in front of her family. In front of the queen!

    Kierra is oblivious to it all. Just a little taste of her favorite troll has thrown her into a tailspin. Her green eyes are wide with arousal as her hands drift over my front, a low whining emanating from her throat.

    Seriously? You want to do this right now? Your mother is on the opposite couch!

    I catch her hands by the wrists and hiss through my teeth as I climb off her. Her arms jump as she tries to reach for me again, but I hold her still, staring her down. I wait until she¡¯s stopped panting excitedly before I let her go. Kierra falls sideways, peering up at me through her bangs. ¡°You are a wicked temptress.¡±

    ME!? You little¨Coh no. She wants me to get riled up. Taking a page out of Javil¡¯s book, I let myself go completely still, watching her with the patience of a parent dealing with a particularly trying child.

    Kierra still smiles brightly, hiding her mirth behind an arm as her shoulders shake with chuckles. Little deviant.

    ¡°Well. I think I understand why my daughter is so intent on having you.¡±

    My new tranquility is immediately shattered. Face hot with embarrassment, I face Morgene who is just putting down her cup. ¡°Um¡­¡±

    ¡°Though I am quite surprised. To think a human would leash a kapitan so thoroughly.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± The queen chuckles, setting her cup down. ¡°When I first saw you Lou, I worried after your health. The stories I have heard concerning my niece¡¯s appetites are quite legendary and I thought there no way a frail human constitution could keep up.¡±

    ¡°You have it all wrong, Auntie,¡± Kierra says dropping her arm over the back of the couch as she sits up. ¡°I am the one you should be worried about. Lou is completely insatiable. On the night we celebrated our victory against the trolls, I thought I would expire from exhaustion.¡±

    My mouth drops in incredulity.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t brag about your partner so loudly lest someone is tempted to take her from you.¡±

    ¡°Please, mother. Having two women beneath her would only rouse her passions in her measure to satisfy. The spirits have mercy on us, I doubt we would be able to stand it.¡±

    Is it possible to faint from embarrassment? My dizzy head is telling me it is. Frickin¡¯ elves. ¡°Please, spare me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± Marjoram stands up, clapping her hands. ¡°I think we have teased your dedia enough. We need to depart. I must say, hearing the confidence of which you speak of her, I am half tempted to try your human out for myself and there are arrangements to be made. I will see you all at the ceremony.¡±

    The queen moves toward the door, grabbing onto Javil¡¯s arm as he smoothly steps up beside her. I catch a faint glimpse of the gold plated knights standing outside the door before it closes.

    ¡°And I have preparations to make.¡± Morgene stands up, lifting the tray. ¡°Kierra, I expect you can find your way to the pool?¡±

    My elf gets to her feet, holding out her hands toward me. ¡°Yes. We shall go there now.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 23

    Kierra takes me to the only properly made building I¡¯ve seen so far. It is only a single story high but it stretches the length of several buildings. Inside, the floor is dominated by a small pool of water the color of milk. In the very center is a burbling spring that feeds it and channels branch off from it, taking the excess water out of the building.

    Along the walls are several benches, basins of waters, several brushes, and an assortment of soaps. Kierra guides me to sit on one of the benches. ¡°We cleanse ourselves here before getting in the pool. Here, let me wash your back.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I allow her to strip me of my borrowed dress and close my eyes as she begins washing me. A part of me is waiting for her to try and turn this into another escapade of hers but, for once, her actions are entirely what they seem and her hands fail to stray from a decent course. There is a solemnness in the air and I find myself taking on its countenance as I turn to wash her back.

    When we are both clean, Kierra takes my hand and brings me into the pool, wrapping her arms about me.

    I sigh as the cool water envelopes me, leaning my head back against her shoulder. Somehow, I feel lighter being in the pool. ¡°This is nice.¡±

    ¡°We call it the Moon Pool. It is said that the pool used to be clear as glass. But then, a piece of the moon fell into it, turning it and every stream that touched it a brilliant white, giving it extraordinary healing properties. Great carnage surrounded it as predators fought for control of its powers. The queen¡¯s grandmother led the campaign to secure it. Now, it is our province¡¯s symbol of purity. Those meant to unified are allowed here so that the waters may wash them of all impurities, preparing them for their new life as one.¡±

    ¡°Is it strong enough to cure you of your deviancy?¡±

    ¡°Oh, dedia. I assure you, my passions are very pure.¡±

    Her hand moves between my legs and I squeeze my thighs, trapping it there before it can reach any dangerous places. ¡°Seriously?¡± I hiss. ¡°In the sacred pool?¡±

    ¡°There is another story as to why the pool is the color it is.¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡±

    ¡°This is where every pair comes on the eve of their unification. What do you think they do here?¡±

    I make to stand up but she pulls me back down, chuckling. I swear, this elf. I can¡¯t tell if she¡¯s laughing because she managed to trick me or because she¡¯s telling the truth.

    ¡°You really like your games.¡±

    ¡°I do. Games and competition. They push our limits and when your limits are pushed, you become stronger. That, and I love the way you look when you¡¯re uncomfortable.¡±

    To just blatantly say that. Sigh. Oh well. I signed up for this when I decided to stay with her. The only thing for it is to learn to beat her. A worthy endeavor if there ever was one.

    My heart gives a little happy flutter as we relax in the water, Kierra ceasing her advances now that she¡¯s had her fun. In the quiet, the reality that I am about to be married gains weight.

    Saints above, what will my father say when I come back with an elven bride? What comes next? She has a life here. A respected warrior, a powerful caster, blood relation to the queen. And what do I have?

    A low noble title, a bitter father with something to prove, and a place at a prestigious academy I never wanted and that may not even be there for me anymore. That isn¡¯t much. ¡°Are you alright with this?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? With what now?¡±

    ¡°This. Our union. Coming back home with me. There¡¯s so much for you here. They threw a festival for your return, for saints¡¯ sake.¡±

    She turns me around so that I¡¯m facing her. ¡°I am very alright with this. I understand what you are asking, Lou. This is my home and you feel guilty taking me from it. But remember. I am only welcome here because I keep my secrets. You have seen my mother. Do you doubt she would slay me where I stood if she ever discovered the true reason I could not face the trolls?¡±

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    I imagine Morgene¡¯s stern expression and wince. Nope. No doubt at all.

    ¡°I love my family and I love my home but more than anything, I yearn to be free. That is why I will give up anything for you, Lou. Because even trapped within my mother¡¯s cage, when I am with you, when we share our secret pleasures, that is the only time I feel free.¡±

    I swallow at the strength in her voice. ¡°Oh, Kierra¡­¡±

    ¡°I hope that reassures you. Unless it is not me you are worried about.¡± She looks away from my gaze. ¡°Perhaps it is your doubts you are contemplating.¡±

    ¡°What? No!¡±

    ¡°I would not blame you. My people are not ones for hesitating when they know what they want but this might be sudden?¡±

    ¡°Kierra, no.¡± I grab her chin and turn her back to look at me. ¡°I want this. Every bit of it. I¡¯m sorry if I made you think I didn¡¯t for even a moment. It¡¯s just¡­sometimes, I can¡¯t imagine how I managed to land you.¡±

    ¡°Your lack of confidence is understandable. You have become powerful by action outside of your design. But everything else is a result of you. Your words impressed the elemental who saw fit to rebirth you. You worked to gain mastery of your abilities. You chose not to abandon me at your first chance and, when you learned of my persuasions, you were the one who accepted me when all of my family would have turned me away. These are all things that you have done.¡±

    I can¡¯t find words to fit the gravity of the situation so I just smile tenderly. She gives me a soft peck on the lips. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lou. I have a feeling that our lives together will be interesting no matter where we go. Such is the curse of those who possess great ability.¡±

    Some time later, two elven women appear next to the pool carrying long white robes and towels. This has to be the signal for us to get out because Kierra motions for me to leave the water. We take turns drying each other off. Then she helps me into my robe before tucking my hand in the crook of her elbow as we leave the building.

    Outside, dusk is beginning to fall. Whether it is because of their strange sleeping pattern or the noise of the celebrations which have only grown louder, I see more elves about. Many of them cheer as we pass, throwing flowers into our path. I¡¯m startled to feel something pulling on the end of my robe and outright dismayed when I turn and see a small elven girl staring up at me.

    Ugh. Children. Never been good with those. They¡¯re so¡­impressionable. I¡¯m hyper-aware of whatever I say around them could affect their entire adult life. Saints know I¡¯m not the prime choice for a role model.

    No, kid. Turn those big eyes away from me. Why do kids look at everything with wonder? It¡¯s pressing on me like a physical thing. Before I know it, I¡¯m crouching down to look the little girl in the eye, forcing a smile to my face. Sigh. ¡°Hey there.¡±

    The girl says a bunch of lyrical gibberish I don¡¯t understand a word of. ¡°Um¡­¡± I tilt my head to look at Kierra, who of course is amused by my clear failure. I give her my best ¡®help me¡¯ look and she crouches beside me. The two of them exchange rapid-fire words, like two birds chirping at each other in the treetops. The little girl smiles and offers me a vibrant yellow bloom.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I accept it with a nod.  Kierra pats her head and the girl scampers off. The two of us start walking again. ¡°What were the two of you talking about?¡±

    Kierra grins. ¡°Pietra is worried about you. She thinks you won¡¯t last two seconds strolling through the forest. I assured her that you¡¯re tougher than you look and that I would do my best to protect you.¡±

    ¡°Gee, thanks.¡± I don¡¯t believe this. It really does start from childhood. The music in the air becomes louder as what sounds like an army of drummers join in. ¡°How long is the partying going to last for?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going to last and last.¡± Kierra chuckles. ¡°They¡¯re just using us as an excuse. Elves, especially the Dusk Province elves, love drinking as much as they love a good fight.¡±

    Drinking? Saints above, I haven¡¯t had a drink in months. Yes, please! ¡°What kind of drinking are we talking about?¡±

    ¡°Dedia, surely you don¡¯t think I¡¯d bring you to elven land and not share some of our famous wine? Trust me, one mug and everything else that touches your tongue will taste like stale piss.¡±

    Okay, ugh. Didn¡¯t need all that description. It has raised my expectations though. ¡°Time to join the party.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯m taking you back to my mother¡¯s tree. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s had the foresight to vacate it for the night and I would prefer that we drink alone.¡± She shifts her hand to my waist and pulls me against her as she says this. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. Don¡¯t worry. We won¡¯t get too excited. Mainly because I doubt mother would react favorably to having her home smell like a troll.¡±

    Oh, I can just imagine how that conversation would go. ¡°What exactly do you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll make our way to the trees for wine and refills. Along the way, I¡¯ll regale you with stories of my youth and elven history. Then we¡¯ll walk the glades. When you¡¯re too tired to walk or too drunk to stand up straight, I will carry you back and lay you down on a real bed. We¡¯ll spend the whole night embracing each other and whispering vows like two lovesick adolescents. And in the morning, we will be unified.¡±

    ¡°¡­wow. I¡¯m amazed.¡±

    ¡°By what?¡±

    ¡°You. That sounds downright romantic, by normal standards no less. I thought your idea of romance was drinking wine over a mutilated corpse or sleeping on a bed where the frame is made from the bones of your enemies and admiring their skulls on your wall.¡±

    ¡°You have a terrible opinion of me, dedia.¡±

    Or an accurate one. ¡°Maybe. But since you plan to marry me, you¡¯ve got a lifetime to change my mind.¡±

    ¡°A worthy endeavor if there ever was one.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 24

    I open my eyes slowly as I feel something tickling my chest. A crown of silver hair moves down my body as hands push aside my robe. I groan as a tongue teases the bundle of nerves between my legs.

    The little deviant sits up when she hears me, licking her lips as she meets my eyes. ¡°Good morning, Lou.¡±

    Not unless you finish what you started. ¡°Why¡¯d you stop?¡±

    ¡°Because they are waiting for us.¡±

    ¡°Waiting? Who?¡±

    ¡°Everyone.¡± She rolls off me and then offers a hand to pull me to my feet. We¡¯re on the second floor of Morgene¡¯s tree, which is one huge bedroom. One wall is dominated by a giant window where murky light is streaming in from. ¡°Dawn is fast approaching. That means the ceremony will be happening soon.¡±

    She grabs me by the arm and nearly drags me to my feet. The early hour pushes at me but the excitement for what¡¯s to come beats back the sleepiness. I can¡¯t believe this. I¡¯m getting married!

    This is crazy. Whenever I imagined my wedding day, I pictured some slightly older guy with more money than charm who my father dragged before me. Now, I¡¯m on the elven continent being led through an elven village by the elven huntress who I¡¯m going to be unified with.

    Amazing. I¡¯m pretty sure someone¡¯s going to want to write a song about this. Does this mean I¡¯m going to be a legend? And to think I wanted to fade away into history as some lazy drunk who hangs around dungeons. ¡°With that stunt earlier, you better have something great planned for the wedding night.¡±

    Kierra looks back at me. ¡°Wedding night?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know what that is? Um, noble girls are usually married off to eligible husbands. One of the conditions is that they¡¯re still virgins. The night of their wedding is the first time they are, you know, intimate with another. It is spoken of with wonder and awe.¡±

    ¡°Is that what your father had planned with you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. Later, after I¡¯d established myself as a renowned summoner.¡±

    ¡°And did you speak about your wedding night with wonder and awe?¡±

    I wince. Saints above know I dreaded it but not too much, as I was sure I¡¯d get out of my father¡¯s clutches before it ever became an issue. I never thought of it as anything more than something to escape from. Still, a girl wants to hope. ¡°What if I told you yes?¡±

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    Kierra grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop. ¡°My tree still stands in the Enchanted Forest. We will have to pass through it to reach the human continent. If you like, we can stop there and have as many wedding nights as you wish.¡±

    I love it when she looks at me like that. ¡°You bring the wonder, I¡¯ll bring the awe?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Deal. Come on.¡±

    We start walking again. She leads me to a large clearing. The robed casters are here again, along with a row of armored elves. I¡¯m surprised that Rondel is among them, smiling softly. Morgene, Marjoram, and Javil are there standing off to the side along with a dark green elf wearing white robes lined with violet. That elf is holding a knife so I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re important.

    Kierra leads me in front of the said elf, turning me so that they are to our left, the two of us staring at each other as she holds my hands.

    The green elf walks up to us. ¡°Kierra, you know me, but for the pleasure of your dedia, I will introduce myself. I am Fiona kor¡¯Yggrasil, one of the ten gardeners who care for the Sacred Tree. By presiding over this union, I give you the blessing of the Great Savior. Our Savior asks only two things from us. Strength and loyalty. Strength to survive and loyalty not only to our principles and our traditions but to each other. Can the two of you promise that same strength and loyalty to each other and your union?¡±

    ¡°I swear it,¡± Kierra replies, nodding her head to me.

    ¡°I swear it.¡±

    ¡°Is there any who would offer their blessing for this union?¡±

    Morgene steps forward. ¡°Morgene D¡¯Atainna offers her blessing.¡± Wah. She actually said that with a hint of warmth and, dare I say it, pride. I think my eyes are tearing up. Maybe there¡¯s a chance my relationship with my mother-in-law won¡¯t be completely terrible.

    Unless I become strong enough to challenge her and she kills me for fun.

    She steps back and the queen steps forward. ¡°Marjoram D¡¯Atainna offers her blessing.¡± Still finding it hard to believe that I¡¯m related to royalty.

    Hold on. Does that mean I¡¯m rich now?

    It¡¯s probably not a good idea to ask that during the ceremony.

    The queen steps back and her consort steps forward. ¡°Javil Duskman offers his blessing.¡± His voice is as pleasant as the rest of his demeanor. I wish I could have had a conversation with him. Doubt it would have lasted very long but it might have been insightful. He has that feeling about him.

    Fiona nods her head. ¡°Then let the knife bearer step forward.¡±

    Rondel comes forward from the line of soldiers. Fiona hands him the knife and steps back. Kierra lets go of my hands and turns toward him. ¡°I¡¯m grateful that you came, my friend.¡±

    ¡°Of course I did, Kii. This seems sudden to you but I knew this day would come. Since we were children, I knew I would be with you at your union, in front of a gardener, your mother, and the queen. I knew the day would come¡­¡±

    Something¡¯s wrong. I can¡¯t tell what it is but a horrible feeling clenches my stomach as I watch him lift the long, ceremonial dagger and Kierra¡¯s hands rise to take it from him. The feeling is realized as he turns the knife around expertly and slams it down into her chest, twisting it.

    Rondel smiles sadly at her stricken expression. ¡°I knew the day would come when you offered your heart to me.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 25

    Kierra falls to her knees, her mouth working without uttering a sound. I¡¯m at her side before she can fall. I¡¯m barely aware of Rondel leaping over us as I lay her on her back or Morgene chasing after him, shouting angrily.

    Saints save me, I don¡¯t know what to do! Blood is soaking the pure white robe she¡¯s wearing and my hands hover over the blade uselessly. Marjoram and Fiona are suddenly there on her opposite side. I throw panicked eyes toward them. ¡°Help her!¡±

    ¡°Fiona?¡±

    The gardener grips the blade and pulls it free. Her hands lay on the wound for a moment. Then her brows come down and she shakes her head. I don¡¯t like that. It means she¡¯s about to say something terrible. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Your Grace. The heart is destroyed. Even my physical affinity cannot do anything when the heart has been damaged to this degree. Not before she dies.

    Physical affinity, like Kierra. They make the best healers. If she can¡¯t help, there¡¯s nothing anyone can do.

    Damn it. Universe, what did I say? I said my luck needs to turn around. What kind of crap is this? I get killed by an insane caster, but some random elemental saves me. Then I get dropped into the Enchanted Forest, which looks like it¡¯s going to be a death sentence, but I end up meeting Kierra. And now, just as I¡¯m about to marry her, some jealous bastard stabs her in the heart, the heart that she planned to give to me.

    Is my bad luck good and my good luck bad? Does the universe just want to screw with me? Why does all this crap have to happen to me? I should have run away. I wouldn¡¯t have had to deal with any of this if I were camped out by some dungeon. Adventures and love are overrated. It all ends like this for me, foiled before I can even begin.

    ¡­no. No, screw that. The universe doesn¡¯t get to decide this for me this time. I¡¯m going to make my own luck.

    Come on, Lourianne Tome. You say you love this elf. Are you just going to let her die without doing anything to save her? I was reborn from an elemental with god-like powers. I¡¯m not just going to give in!

    ¡°There has to be something we can do!¡±

    The two elven women look at me with pity. ¡°Lou,¡± Marjoram starts but I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head.

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    ¡°You said her heart is too damaged.¡±

    Fiona nods. ¡°She is tough. She holds on but there is nothing a healer can do for her.¡±

    ¡°¡­what if she had a new heart?¡±

    The gardener¡¯s brows jump to her forehead. ¡°Maybe¡­no, the body would reject foreign material. It¡¯s too risky. And there are no hearts simply sitting around.¡±

    ¡°Give me her heart.¡±

    ¡°What? Have you gone¡ª¡±

    ¡°I said GIVE ME HER HEART!¡± My throat hurts from the force of my shouting and I¡¯m sure my eyes are wild but I don¡¯t care. I think I can save her and I¡¯m going to try. No one is getting in my way. Queen or not.

    Thankfully, Marjoram nods to Fiona. The gardener still looks hesitant as she reaches her hand into Kierra¡¯s chest. My stomach heaves as I watch her physical affinity work, moving flesh and muscle away. She pulls out my elf¡¯s wounded heart and holds it out to me.

    I snatch it from her hand, open my mouth wide, and swallow it. The elves are horrified but I ignore them. My insides have turned back to that of an elemental and the heart dissolves immediately. Yes! I wasn¡¯t sure if I needed a whole body or not but I don¡¯t. Kierra¡¯s template is right there in my head. But I don¡¯t need all of her.

    With a thought, I transform my insides into those of the elf. Then I reach inside myself and pull out my heart, her new heart, before changing my innards back to that of an elemental. I hold the fresh organ out to a stunned Fiona. ¡°Don¡¯t just sit there like an idiot! Save her!¡±

    ¡°I¡ªyes!¡± She takes it from me and gently places it into Kierra¡¯s chest. Then she closes her eyes and holds both hands over the wound. Kierra¡¯s skin crawls as the injury begins to stitch itself together.

    I pray the entire time. I¡¯ve never been one for serious prayer and I don¡¯t start now. At least, not to the saints.

    My prayers go out to Cosmo. The elemental who changed my life and made all this possible. I¡¯m going to put my trust in you. I¡¯m going to believe in what you made me and the new future you gave me. I¡¯ll give you all the entertainment you could wish for. Just save her. Show me what you, and by extension what I, can do.

    And as if my prayers are answered, Kierra takes a deep breath and sits up, eyes wild as her hand pats her chest. When she sees she is unhurt, her stricken expression morphs into the fiercest scowl I have ever seen. ¡°RONDEL! Where is that rat? I swear I will hang his skull on my wall and wear his hide in¡ªmmph!¡±

    I shut her up with a kiss, wrapping my arms about her neck. She returns it for a moment before gently pushing me away. ¡°Dedia, as much as I would love to do this, I need to go kill a traitorous bastard.¡± She kisses me again before popping to her feet and dashing off.

    I laugh as I watch her run, the picture of health.

    My laughter peters off as I turn around to see the two elven women staring at me. ¡°Um¡­¡±

    Fiona bows her head to me. ¡°You gave her your heart, just as the Great Savior did for our race so long ago. You carry a seed of the sacred tree within you.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 26

    Marjoram follows after the gardener, lowering her head. No, no. Oh, no no no no. You are a queen. You should not be bowing to me. That cannot end in a good place. ¡°Please raise your heads, both of you. You shouldn¡¯t be bowing to me.¡±

    They both raise their heads. I don¡¯t like the look in either of their eyes. Marjoram¡¯s is calculating but I expected that. After all, a noble¡¯s a noble. Their job is to exploit every resource they can, hopefully for the benefit of their people.

    Fiona is the one making me uncomfortable. Her eyes are too wide and her lips are slightly parted as if she¡¯s searching for words just out of reach. She looks a little star-struck. Like someone who¡¯s just witnessed a saintly miracle. Which, technically, if I think about it, she has. She thinks I have some blessing from her sacred tree. I¡¯m the equivalent of an elven saint.

    Saints, the real ones, save me.

    I get to my feet and they follow suit. My gaze goes across the field and the heart I don¡¯t have sinks when I notice that the robed casters who had attended the ceremony are still present, looking defensive. Did they see? We were grouped in close to Kierra so our backs should have obscured most of what happened. Ugh. Can I escape? Will they even let me escape?

    ¡°You¡¯re worried.¡±

    I look back at Marjoram who is smiling softly. ¡°There is no need to be afraid, Lou. The ceremony has been completed, albeit a bit differently than usual. That makes you family. My family does not need to fear me.¡±

    ¡°I¡­see.¡± The smile only has a bit of an edge to it. I feel myself relaxing mainly because I want to relax. ¡°What I just did¡­that¡¯s a secret. I¡¯d like it to stay that way.¡±

    ¡°I see no reason why it shouldn¡¯t. Isn¡¯t that right, Fiona?¡±

    The gardener nods hastily. ¡°Your secret will be safe with me, holy one.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then shall we go find my niece and my sister? If we hurry, we can catch them while they¡¯re still torturing the man. Criminals should be put on trial, even if we are simply going to execute them.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± I follow after Marjoram as she starts across the field, coming up beside her with Fiona trailing along behind me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯re so tense, Lou.¡±

    I jump. Is she fishing for information? What more does she need to know? She just watched me pull an elven heart out of my chest, not that I could tell any difference between it and a human one, and not die. ¡°It¡¯s just, someone who can do what I can do is very rare. Dangerously so.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. I have never seen a physical affinity of that strength, especially in a human.¡±

    ¡­eh?

    Did she just say the physical affinity?

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    ¡°To repair an organ so quickly. I¡¯ve never seen a healer use your methods before but it was quite effective. Dangerous is correct. Someone with your talent is invaluable.¡±

    The saints, no. Cosmo, you glorious elemental! I¡¯m erecting a personal shrine to you wherever I go. This is what I get for trusting in myself. When I think about it, it¡¯s not that surprising. No one¡¯s going to immediately jump to the conclusion that I¡¯m part elemental. To them, what I can do might just look like someone skilled with the physical affinity.

    Cosmo, I know I threatened to slap you if we ever meet again but I swear, I will kiss you.

    ¡°Thank you for understanding,¡± I say meekly. ¡°I¡¯ve been hiding what I can do. My father is a noble and he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to try and use me for his agenda.¡±

    ¡°Then why do you want to go back to the human continent? If you were to stay in the Violet Dusk Province¡ª¡±

    ¡°Forgive me for interrupting you, Your Grace, but I must return home. It is not just for my family. I have a place waiting for me at the Grand Hall.¡±

    Her gaze narrows with respect. As I thought, even on another continent, the Grand Hall¡¯s name rings out. Humans may not be the most gifted but we sure are persistent and we¡¯ve made incredible discoveries. Our master casters can stand toe-to-toe with any of the races.

    ¡°That is something worth returning for. We have our own schools but it would be more productive for a human to study under human teachers.¡± Shouting in the distance makes me look up to see Kierra and Morgene dragging a bleeding Rondel between them. Marjoram looks over to me. ¡°I look forward to what you will become, Lourianne Tome.¡±

    -

    Later that night, we¡¯re back in Morgene¡¯s tree. The original plan was to head out right after the ceremony but in light of the circumstances, everyone decided it would be best if we rested another night. Kierra looks completely healed but her mother, in a rare and completely unexpected show of maternal hovering, insisted that she rest a night just to be sure.

    I¡¯m lying on the large bed in the upstairs bedroom when Kierra comes up the ladder. We¡¯ve both changed out of the white robes used for the ceremony into the more common leather and furs the elves favor. She stalks up to me with an expression I haven¡¯t seen before. I sit up as she kneels at the side of the bed. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°¡­I just had a chat with my queen.¡± Kierra reaches out and grabs my hand, kissing the back of it. ¡°She told me everything that happened. You saved my life, dedia.¡±

    I thought they were going to keep that to themselves? Ah, I guess Kierra would be the exception if there ever was one. Still don¡¯t trust that gardener, Fiona. ¡°You heard about that, huh?¡±

    ¡°You pulled out your heart and gave it to me, just like the Great Savior that inhabits the Sacred Tree. Though technically, it was my own heart. Or was it?¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t. But your aunt doesn¡¯t know that.¡±

    She grins up at me. ¡°She seems to think you have a pure physical affinity. I said nothing to correct that notion. I¡¯m glad that was the proper course of action.¡±

    ¡°What about Rondel?¡±

    Her smile turns into a scowl as she climbs onto the bed beside me. ¡°I came upon my mother just as she was about to slay him. My appearance kept her from killing him and she kept me from killing him. He will be tried by the queen and executed in the most painful way possible. The craziest thing? He kept screaming about how I betrayed him to the very end.¡±

    Bastard. Wish I could have had a turn with him too.

    ¡­think I might have spent too long as a troll. I can feel that explosive anger I utilized in the morning brawls creeping up on me. Probably shouldn¡¯t be in the same room with that guy. Killing wolves and trolls are one thing, but elves? They look human. That¡¯s a little too much deviancy, even for me.

    Kierra hums as she puts a hand in my hair, raking her nails across my scalp in her usual way. ¡°Never mind. He is meaningless to us now. Tomorrow is a new day when we begin our lives together. I¡¯m looking forward to it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d drink to that,¡± I mumble, moving closer to her. I almost lost this. That is driven home to me but instead of being terrifying, it¡¯s invigorating. Because I saved her. I saved this. I deserve it.

    And I¡¯m not losing it without a fight.

    ¡°Goodnight, dedia.¡±

 ARC 1-The Enchanted Forest-Part 27

    Something I learned. No matter how you try to hide her, a ferocious, six-foot-plus, summer-green elf with silver hair is just going to stand out wherever you go. Under a heavy cloak, on the back roads of the kingdom, in a wagon. Doesn¡¯t matter, especially when she¡¯s poking her head everywhere and asking anyone in sight questions.

    Luckily, said elf is very capable of defending herself from bandits who would kidnap her to be a noble¡¯s plaything and less violent romantic overtures from peasants. Does not make traveling with her any easier. The free drinks were nice but if I think about why the greedy-eyed men plied us with so much alcohol, it becomes a lot less nice.

    Joke¡¯s on them. I¡¯m an elemental and elves can drink a lot more than their lithe bodies imply.

    I have never, ever, in all my life, been happier to see the long road leading up to the esteemed Tome family manor. Kierra stares at my house with the same curiosity with which she has observed the rest of the human continent she¡¯s seen. ¡°This is it?¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm. Welcome to the Tome family home.¡±

    ¡°Such a large building. Only you and your father live here?¡±

    ¡°Us, the servants who maintain the place, and a knight or two who maintain security. Or the illusion of it.¡± Lower nobles that we are, the Tome estate resides on the outskirts of Summer Spire, the capital.

    The palace is a day¡¯s ride from where we are. No bandit in their right mind would set up shop in the area. The fat knights my father pays simply patrol the grounds and drink away the days. At least they¡¯re good-natured men. ¡°Come on.¡±

    The two of us start up the road together. A young girl working in the garden spots us. Her first instinct is to bow her head but then it snaps back up, her eyes going wide as they take in my face. I wave and she takes off running toward the manor. ¡°Think she recognized me?¡±

    ¡°Either that or there¡¯s a horde of trolls behind us.¡± Kierra looks over her shoulder and gives an exaggerated sigh. ¡°No trolls.¡±

    ¡°How disappointing.¡±

    ¡°At one time, maybe.¡±

    She throws her arms around my neck and leans into me. It¡¯s a small miracle I don¡¯t fall flat on my face. Frickin¡¯ elf. You¡¯re heavy. I¡¯m wearing my human skin right now so there¡¯s no way I¡¯m carrying you. I roll my shoulders and she thankfully pulls up, holding onto me but supporting her weight. ¡°But we¡¯ve got the remedy to that, don¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°Yes, we do. I am looking forward to having a nice, comfortable bed and some privacy.¡±

    ¡°Not as much privacy as you think. I doubt I¡¯ll see any peace at all for the first week and after that, well, people like to gossip.¡± Ah, here they come. The two burly knights of the Tome family, their armor clacking loudly as they run, my father right behind them. The servants follow them at a distance but it seems everybody has come out to see. ¡°Time to meet the family.¡±

    Kierra straightens up beside me, running a hand through her hair. Are you primping? Since when do you primp? Wait, I think she¡¯s nervous. She¡¯s still smiling but it¡¯s a little tense around the edges.

    Huh. Guess she can get nervous like the rest of us mere mortals.

    The knights come to a stop several feet away, holding out their hands to keep my father from coming closer as they grab the hilts of their swords.

    Peter and Potter Ironcast. Two brothers born from a blacksmith who joined the royal army together and never amounted to much. Father picked them up after they were kicked from their platoon for disorderly conduct in the city. From what I know, their ability didn¡¯t influence his decision more than the low price of their services but they serve their purpose.

    Both of them are larger than average with solid physiques marred by the beer bellies that push out against their tight armor. ¡°Halt!¡± Peter, the older brother, shouts. ¡°Identify yourselves and your purpose here.¡±

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    ¡°Did an anvil fall on your head as a boy, you idiot?¡± my father yells. ¡°That is my daughter!¡± He tries to move forward again but Potter holds him back. ¡°Let go of me!¡±

    ¡°My lord, please. Some could deceive you with magic. And why would Lady Lourianne be accompanied by an elf?¡±

    That logic deters my father, bringing him to a pause. I sigh as they focus on me with suspicion. ¡°Pete, Pot,¡± I shout, injecting some cheer into my voice. The nicknames make them jump, but not in a good way.

    I think Potter¡¯s sword just slid an inch out the sheath. Jeez. I hope neither of them are drunk right now. ¡°Kierra? Want to take off your cloak and show them we don¡¯t have any weapons?¡±

    She hums in agreement while unlatching the tie holding her cloak in place. The servants lean toward one another as it hits the ground. I can hear their excited whispers. Guess they couldn¡¯t see her heritage from far away.

    I drop my cloak and do a turn. ¡°I¡¯m not carrying any weapons so there¡¯s no need to be afraid.¡±

    ¡°Like that matters!¡± Peter shouts back. ¡°You¡¯re a caster with a fire affinity. You don¡¯t need a weapon.¡±

    ¡°Now, wait a second. Lourianne Tome is a caster with a fire affinity and you¡¯re saying I¡¯m not her.¡± That stumps them. I swear, I can hear their thoughts bouncing off their empty heads. That¡¯s kind of harsh but really, we¡¯ve been traveling for weeks and not very comfortably to avoid as much attention as possible. All I want to do is sit down with a cold drink and these iron idiots are standing in my way.

    ¡°A good fake would share the same affinity.¡±

    ¡°Well, if I¡¯m pretending to be Lourianne Tome, then you don¡¯t have to be afraid of me because she can¡¯t cast a decent spell for all the diamonds in the kingdom. Which the two of you know better than anyone, what with how we bonded while you were helping me sneak off.¡±

    ¡°Oh, this is ridiculous.¡± My father finally gets fed up and pushes past them. I step forward and we pause in front of each other. Hey, now. Kierra gets a festival thrown for her arrival and that¡¯s when her mother not only knew where her daughter was but also put her there.

    My father thought I was dead and all he can do is stand there staring at me.

    He¡¯s as polished as ever, his hair slicked back across his greasy head and his small mustache combed out neatly. Ugh. He¡¯s wearing one of his obnoxious tunics. Every day, he insists on peacocking the family name despite its decline.

    I have no objections to the family crest, a summoning circle with an open tome laid across it. I do have some with the colors. The garish green and yellow on an orange background just don¡¯t mesh with our darker coloring but the man insists on wearing them.

    I¡¯m not one to be a stickler about fashions but come on.

    He finally completes his examination of me and nods. ¡°You seem to be in good health.¡±

    More than you know. ¡°I¡¯m in one piece anyway.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± He clumsily grabs my shoulder with a hand, giving it what I can only call a friendly squeeze. ¡°Good.¡±

    His attention turns to Kierra. ¡°Excuse me for the late introduction. My name is Luke Tome. If you have come all the way from the elven continent, surely you must be intent on making your way to the palace. If it is acceptable, I would be honored to escort you the rest of the way.¡±

    Luke Tome. He doesn¡¯t do fathering very well but his groveling is top-notch.

    Kierra smiles at him graciously, holding out her hand. ¡°There is no mistake. I am Kierra D¡¯Atainna, daughter to Morgene D¡¯Atainna of the Violet Dusk Province. Lou and I are married so there is no need to stand on ceremony. We are family now. I hope you don¡¯t mind if I call you Father as well.¡±

    Pfft! Oh, wow. This is perfect. Honestly, I would have marched across the continent for this alone. I have never seen such raw surprise. Surprise so potent is deserves to be called shock. His eyes are big and his mouth is flopping open and closed like a fish yanked from a spring.

    Kierra lowers her hand once she realizes he isn¡¯t going to shake it, giving me a questioning look. I answer with a shrug.

    Ah, there we go. My father¡¯s coming back to his senses, though he still looks disorientated as he looks back and forth between the two of us. ¡°I¡¯m¡­sorry. I thought I heard you say¡­¡±

    ¡°That we are wedded, yes. I am her wife. Your daughter-in-law. My Common is still a little rusty. I do have the terms correct right, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Perfect, dear.¡± My father flinches. Poor man.

    ¡°I see.¡± He swallows thickly. ¡°I think it would be best to discuss this inside.¡±

    ¡°Great idea,¡± I say, grabbing Kierra¡¯s hand as I start forward. His eyes are glued to our linked hands as we walk past and I can feel his gaze boring into our backs. I wink at the brother knights.

    They¡¯ve gotten over their shock. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re Lou,¡± Peter says as he and his brother give me a toothy grin.

    Potter gives me a strong clap on the shoulders that would have sent me sprawling to the ground if Kierra didn¡¯t have such a tight grip on me. The servants ahead part to make way, not familiar enough to ask the questions I can see they desperately want to ask.

    ¡°I am looking forward to this.¡±

    Her gaze is focused straight ahead, beyond the estate. I get the feeling she¡¯s talking about more than this new place. She¡¯s looking forward to the future and where it will take us.

    Yeah. I¡¯m looking forward to this, too.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 1

    A brisk fall wind slips between my thin tunic as I jog through the village. Despite being this close to the capital, we¡¯re far enough away to make it troublesome to develop and my father doesn¡¯t have much inclination to build. No, he¡¯s happy keeping his nose in a book as long as the commoners working the land provide enough money for him to stay in his manor.

    One good quality about him is that he doesn¡¯t think of the people under his authority as work mules and charge reasonable taxes. In some territories, the people are downcast as they drag their tired bodies to their fields, but the inhabitants of the village are¡­I wouldn¡¯t say upbeat, but they keep in relatively good spirits.

    Many eyes track me as I make my way down the dirt road that leads out of the village. I do my best to avoid them. Experience tells me that if I indulge them even a moment, I won¡¯t get away until everyone around me is passed out drunk.

    Why? Because one time, one time, Kierra and I decided to purchase ingredients from the local market together. She draws attention wherever she goes but this was different. She haggled with them, which always goes extremely well because they¡¯re too busy staring at her to realize they¡¯re getting scammed, and then she ate at their tavern. She¡¯s no longer an oddity passing through, but their neighbor.

    Which means there¡¯s a chance to get close to her.

    Ever since, people have been trying to worm their way into our good graces. Handing over free food, happening to pass by our house, buying me free drinks. I didn¡¯t realize their intentions until the night a merchant passing through started questioning me about the elven nation. This was after the fifth drink he¡¯d bought me. Any other girl my size would have been one step from passed out but I¡¯m the opposite of ordinary.

    It did teach me to keep my distance from people until I can confirm their intentions. Not that everyone can take the no gracefully.

    I speed up into a jog, pulling the rough sack carrying my purchases closer as I take off. It doesn¡¯t take long to leave the plain houses of the village behind me. Now the fields begin. People here only grow wheat, as the staple food will always grow well and they don¡¯t have the money to pay for seeds of fruits and vegetables. The golden stalks aren¡¯t shining as usual under the overcast sky.

    I live past even those fields, where the land is wild and unclaimed, trees growing with abandon. Not as densely as in the Enchanted Forest, but the small woodland was the most comfortable choice for my elven bride. One of them is marked with a circle high up on its trunk. That¡¯s my sign to get off the road and move through the trees.

    Ten minutes later, I reach a small hill. The trees atop it and in the immediate area have been cleared, the logs repurposed to build the small cabin sitting on its crest.

    I¡¯m panting as I climb up the hill. It¡¯s close to an hour to the village and that¡¯s if I hurry. Going there and back is rough, especially without a break. Wouldn¡¯t even be that bad if I was well-rested but that never happens.

    ¡°Kii,¡± I call as I open the door. ¡°They didn¡¯t have any good cuts so I got¡ª¡±

    Pure instinct alerts me and I duck before I know why I¡¯m ducking, rolling to the side. I hear the wind whistle as I move, followed by a soft thunk. I¡¯m on my feet in the next instant.

    A wooden-handled blade is stuck in the door. Kierra is standing by the counter next to our wooden stove, grinning broadly. Her hands are covered in flour, telling me she¡¯s already started on dinner. ¡°Not bad.¡±

    ¡°Can you please stop trying to kill me when I walk through the door?¡± I drop the sack on the far end of the counter and raise up onto my toes to kiss her. ¡°I¡¯m seriously going to die one of these times.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense. I aimed for your chest and that isn¡¯t nearly enough to bring you down.¡± She gestures for me to step aside and quickly retrieves her knife. I swear she caresses the blade when she grabs it.

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    When we left the elven nation, her aunt, the queen, gifted her plenty of gold and jewels to live like the kin of royalty she is. She rarely spends the money, preferring to live off her own efforts. Only things she spends money on are weapons. She loves her weapons. Our room looks like a small armory.

    Well...she spends it on weapons and me. But I don¡¯t take advantage of her tendency to spoil me. Really.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, but it hurts, you know? You are freakishly strong.¡±

    ¡°But you like a little pain.¡± She gives me a wicked grin that leaves me speechless. Hard to make a comeback when she¡¯s right. Instead, I go to my study.

    Calling it that is a little presumptuous. It¡¯s not even its own room, just a table pushed against a wall in the main room with a sparsely filled out bookcase next to it. Spread out over the surface is several roughly drawn maps and a few sheets of rough paper with an endless series of numbers scrawled across them.

    My latest projects. Most of my days are spent dealing with Kierra¡¯s training. Despite escaping the Enchanted Forest, she persists, claiming that as her wife there¡¯s a ¡®standard¡¯ I have to live up to. Which means she wakes me up at uncharitable hours in the morning and seemingly does her best to kill me. Not even allowed to use my other forms to make it easier. No, there¡¯s separate training for that.

    The study is for my evenings. Even the lazy me can feel abashed being so thoroughly taken care of by my wife. I felt the need to do¡­something. The answer is my amateur map of the Enchanted Forest.

    Elves don¡¯t allow humans onto their land. There are rare exceptions, but I haven¡¯t heard of the people Kierra mentioned so, strangely, they had to have been humans not native to the Harvest Kingdom. The most adventurers reach is the Enchanted Forest, which is incredibly dangerous. Poor bastards. If the giant spiders and cuddly wolves don¡¯t kill them, the elves will if they get too close to their border.

    Which is where my map comes in. A complete guide to the Enchanted Forest, drafted with Kierra¡¯s help. I plan to write a guide to the monsters within the colorful trees to accompany it and sell them both in the capital. Together, they¡¯re invaluable. We don¡¯t need the money but it¡¯ll make me feel better contributing to the coffers in a significant way.

    The numbers relate to my new body. After my resurrection as a half elemental or whatever I am, praise Cosmo, my body is one great mystery. As a summoner, all things elemental fascinate me and understanding myself is the key to growing stronger, which I need to do if I don¡¯t want Kierra to accidentally kill me.

    I can shapeshift into things that I eat. That was the extent of my understanding while in the Enchanted Forest. Each form is represented by a series of numbers and symbols, much like a spell, but I¡¯m doing it on an instinctual level. Only way to improve is to understand. Which means the laborious task of recording each grouping of numbers.

    By isolating the groups and shifting, I can partially shift and gain an idea what each grouping is. Not that I know why one group of numbers gives me a tail and another gives me feathers but the first step is recording and comparing. It¡¯s time consuming. Before I knew it, I had dozens of sheets compiled, the numbers circled and scratched out with notes harshly scribbled along the sides.

    Ugh. Reminds me of my father.

    I¡¯m carefully drawing a symbol of a spider on my map when I feel Kierra¡¯s hands in my hair. ¡°Working on your little drawing again?¡±

    I set the smear stick down and lean back as she puts her chin on top of my head. ¡°This little drawing is going to be worth hundreds of crowns on its own and maybe triple that with the guide.¡±

    ¡°Right. And what exactly do you want to do with all that money?¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s no reason to not have it, is there? Besides, there¡¯s got to be something you want to do. Taking care of me has to get boring eventually.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Not at all.¡± She nuzzles me. I swear, this woman is more animal than person. ¡°I¡¯m quite invested in your progress and watching you struggle is always entertaining.¡±

    Who says that to someone¡¯s face? And what does it say about me that I don¡¯t care? ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s got to be something else. You were quite the big shot before you, uh, took a vacation.¡±

    ¡°I was, but that vacation you¡¯re talking about lasted twenty years. A long time to spend in the peace of solitude. It started as a nice break but now I¡¯ve become quite accustomed to it. A bustling life would be rather draining. That doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t have long term goals, but they¡¯ll all have to wait until you¡¯re a little more capable. Until then, you¡¯re all the adventure I need.¡±

    Aw. But I wonder what part of me she¡¯s talking about? Something makes me doubt it¡¯s my personality. Hehe.

    ¡°Come on. Dinner won¡¯t be ready for a little while and I know what we can do to pass the time.¡±

    I grab one of her hands and let her pull me up, practically falling into her arms when she pulls me closer. Kierra ducks her head to kiss me, slowly guiding us to the large couch that dominates the room.

    Life is good.

    Then someone pounds on the door and life becomes annoying.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 2

    I glare at the door, hoping the person on the other side will feel my complete reluctance to deal with them and go away. The knocking continues. Sigh.

    Kierra chuckles as she lets go of me and opens the door.

    ¡°Good evening, Lady Atainna!¡±

    Geh. I recognize that deep voice but it rarely has that much energy in it, usually a lazy drawl that reflects its owner¡¯s reluctance to do any work. I move to her side.

    Sure enough, it¡¯s Peter Ironcast standing in the doorway, one of the ¡®esteemed¡¯ Tome family knights. His brother, Potter, is standing next to him but he¡¯s too busy grinning at my wife to say anything. The two brothers are both terrible examples of the knightage. With their bulging stomachs, unshaven faces, and lax attitudes, my father mainly hired them for bodies in shiny armor, not for any kind of ability.

    At least, they used to be. The two have changed immensely since my return home. My wife¡¯s presence makes them self-conscious in many ways. Their half-hearted attention to their appearance transformed into clean-shaven faces, neatly cut hair, and new armor refitted to hide their bulging bellies. Though even that may have changed. After an embarrassing sparring session with Kierra, I noticed them continuing their morning training and, saints witness, practicing their spells. I¡¯d go so far as to call them respectable knights now.

    I get it. Good for them that she literally knocked some sense into the brothers before it was too late. Neither of them are getting younger and I¡¯d have rated their chances of having relationships of their own before my return as a solid never.

    Maybe now they can finally find themselves women and permanently upgrade from being degenerates. I was more than happy with their transformation. I was. Then they started making moves toward Kierra.

    I mean, come on! I¡¯m usually standing right there but they ignore me. The fact that she¡¯s married doesn¡¯t slow them down one second. They think it¡¯s some kind of joke. In a society with an expectancy of unions for the sake of heirs, two women getting together can¡¯t be taken seriously.

    Bastards. Saints give me patience, this is going to end up with me squaring off against them in some kind of duel. No one¡¯s going to get the message until they get hurt.

    Bet they¡¯re pretty confident about that. Unfortunately, they don¡¯t know that one of my forms is a lot bigger and attractive than they are. At least to my wife. Hehe.

    ¡°Sir Peter, Sir Potter.¡± Kierra grins and opens the door wider. ¡°To what do we owe the pleasure?¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is ours. Lou.¡± He nods his head toward me dismissively. I used to insist on dropping formality but I think I¡¯ll have to change my mind. ¡°One moment. The lord is taking a little longer.¡±

    Hey, now. What are you two doing? You can¡¯t leave the lord you¡¯re charged with protecting just because you¡¯re eager to see someone else¡¯s wife. Father really needs to discipline these idiots.

    Huffing and puffing announces the arrival of my father. We all step aside as he steps through the doorway, collapsing onto one of the couches, the knights following him as Kierra closes the door. Sigh. That¡¯s going to smell like man sweat for a while. He¡¯s drenched. Saints give this man some strength, it was barely a ten-minute walk from the road and a little hill.

    ¡°Honored Father.¡± My wife¡¯s voice is pleasant. Only I, who spends almost every minute of every day with her, can tell that she¡¯s being sarcastic. ¡°Can I offer you some water?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± He sucks down deep breaths and composes himself. He¡¯s also changed since I¡¯ve returned home. I¡¯d like to say my sudden disappearance devastated him, but he was no worse for wear when I returned. However, Kierra¡¯s appearance has had a profound effect.

    I take after him strongly, except for my long, wavy hair that I inherited from my mother. Saying that, I¡¯d say he¡¯s a good-looking man but the usual sneer and lack of energy make him unattractive.

    That¡¯s been replaced by a gleam of ambition.

    I prefer the old him. This one is annoying.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he says as Kierra hands him a glass of water. He gulps it down, letting out a deep sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you insist on living in this¡­place so far away from the village. There is plenty of space in the manor.¡±

    ¡°We prefer our privacy.¡± Seriously. There aren¡¯t a lot of people on the Tome estate but between my father, the servants, and the knight brothers, I got tired of people stalking us and peeking in. Kind of hard to do certain things while under constant surveillance.

    ¡°That¡¯s not good enough. Someone of Lady Atainna¡¯s status should have more fitting accommodations. If necessary, I can arrange for another building on the estate.¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Haha. So, it¡¯s fine for your daughter to stay in what you clearly think is a dump, huh? Should have never told him she was related to a queen. Just slipped out. Got to admit, I was bragging. Next time someone asks about my wife, I¡¯m going to keep my mouth shut.

    I take the seat across from him, Kierra settling next to me. ¡°Did you come here to discuss our living situation?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Father smiles. It¡¯s such a rare sight that I¡¯m taken aback. ¡°Your uncle has invited us to his estate in Summer Spire for the winter.¡±

    Ah. After the overwinter crops are harvested, life slows down in the country. People stay inside to avoid the chill and the occasional snowfall. Nothing would be happening here.

    Summer Spire is a different beast. As the kingdom¡¯s capital, it¡¯s always bustling. It¡¯s also where ambitious nobles congregate to buddy up to potential allies and decimate potential enemies. For my acclaim-seeking father, it¡¯s heaven. And for his brother, the current patriarch of the Tome clan, to be inviting him, it means he¡¯s getting another chance to get back into the ring.

    Hmm. I wonder why? Not.

    ¡°We¡¯ll humbly¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute.¡± Father holds up his hands to emphasize his words. ¡°You¡¯re right, the invitation is for the exact reason you¡¯re thinking. But before you decline, your uncle plans to host several parties. The Grimoires have confirmed their attendance.¡±

    My spine straightens as I grit my teeth. Kierra notices the change and turns to me with concern, putting a hand on my cheek. ¡°Lou? What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Father nods across from me. I think there¡¯s a hint of pride in his eyes. ¡°Lady Atainna, as you¡¯ve¡­married into our family, this concerns you to. The Grimoires are our sworn enemies.

    ¡°When the continents were divided and the Harvest family created the kingdom, the Tomes were a prominent family. We contributed greatly to stabilizing the area, our contracted elementals providing knowledge that helped understand the foreign land. More than that, we taught the people summoning.¡±

    He sighs, frowning slightly. I don¡¯t blame him. No member of the Tome family likes what comes next. ¡°Unfortunately, we don¡¯t have strong bloodlines. Our most common affinity is fire. Every now and again, someone is born with earth or water, but that¡¯s it.

    ¡°The Masons, who later changed their names to the Grimoires, have a strong bloodline. They are often born with the greater physical affinity. Though spells involving living things are incredibly complicated and hard to master, with summoning, it becomes a great strength as it makes them attractive to a specific kind of elemental.¡±

    ¡°Succubi,¡± I hiss. ¡°Elementals with the physical and mental affinities. They can delve into someone¡¯s mind and tear out every secret someone¡¯s hiding.¡±

    ¡°I have heard of them. Su¡¯dedia inferari. Mind stealers.¡± She scowls but it isn¡¯t as fierce as our expressions. ¡°Not even elves are safe from their influence.¡± The quick glance she shoots me tells me that there¡¯s more to that story that she doesn¡¯t want to say in front of our guests. ¡°They are your enemy?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I snap. Hearing the way my voice echoes, I take a deep breath to calm myself. ¡°No. Succubi are powerful elementals. In the past, they were great teachers and their summoners pioneered everything we know about recovery magic. It¡¯s all about how the summoner decides to use them. It¡¯s those shady Grimoires that are the problem.¡±

    ¡°Well said, daughter. I take it you will be accompanying me?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± I get to my feet and he follows. ¡°When do we leave?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow. I¡¯ve prepared everything. The carriage will be waiting in the afternoon beside your marker.¡±

    ¡°Then tomorrow it is.¡±

    -

    Father stayed for a little longer to catch his breath while exchanging a few more pleasantries before he dragged the knight brothers away. By then, Kierra¡¯s stew is done. She sets it on the table in front of the couch along with a few loaves of bread. We both get full bowls before she asks, ¡°What is the real motivation for going to the capital?¡±

    I wince. ¡°Sorry. I kind of made the decision without asking you.¡± Which I should¡¯ve since she¡¯s the one they want to see.

    She waves me off. ¡°Never mind that. Blood feuds are nothing new to me.¡± Blood feud? Yeesh. I mean, our families hate each other but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s worth being called a blood feud. I¡¯d love to see their whole family as destitute beggars, but I don¡¯t want them dead. They barely even acknowledge us. ¡°It is so rare to see you passionate about anything, but this is clearly personal.¡±

    ¡°Mm. As two of the most prominent summoning families in the kingdom, our families move in the same places and know the same people. Gordon and I practically grew up together. He¡¯s bigger, older, and has more money than I do. Guess what happened.¡±

    She snickers as I take a big bite out of my bread. Just remembering his stupid pranks and constant jabs makes my blood boil. Just because he was born with a greater affinity, he thought he owned the world and never let me forget it. Nor how far out of favor the Tome family is with the rest of the nobility.

    What¡¯s worse is that, since his father is one of the king¡¯s advisors, the other noble brats didn¡¯t dare go against him, going as far as to follow in his footsteps. They might have been decent kids, but I never got the chance to find out. That red-haired bandit is the main reason I never had friends.

    It sounds so sad that it pisses me off more.

    ¡°I see. He was your bully and you want revenge.¡±

    Damn right I do! ¡°Yeah. Is that wrong?¡±

    ¡°Not at all.¡± She sips down the rest of her broth and refills her bowl. ¡°Anyone who dared to mess with my beloved wife deserves to be fertilizer for the Sacred Tree. I¡¯d be delighted to help you ruin them.¡±

    Aw. I¡¯m not saying I love you but I¡¯m thinking it. ¡°That¡¯s not it though. My father is¡­well, he¡¯s him but at least he has commendable morals when it comes to summoning. He treats them with the respect they deserve and taught me to do the same. The Grimoires are the exact opposite. Their succubi are tools and because of them, the public has twisted ideas about the art.¡±

    Which probably explains why some random caster kidnapped me and sacrificed me to summon an elemental he could never hope to control. ¡°As long as the Grimoires remain in power, they¡¯ll put the Tomes down and the art of summoning will never progress.¡± I don¡¯t feel much loyalty to my family, as they¡¯ve never done anything for me, but this issue is dear to me. Especially after my rebirth.

    ¡°For whatever reason, I¡¯ll support you. Eat up. We¡¯re going to have a busy night.¡±

    I peer at her over my bowl. She gives me a wicked grin as she bites into a loaf of bread. ¡°After all, we only have one night to pack.¡±

    Oh. That¡¯s what she meant.

    ¡°And I want it done as soon as possible to make time for more enjoyable things.¡±

    Hehe. As expected of my wife.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 3

    Despite our late start the next day, we make it to the tree marker before my father arrives. Kierra is hanging on me, our luggage at our feet. We¡¯re in civilization now but she hasn¡¯t lost the habit of clinging to me. Probably because she doesn¡¯t go out much but then again, it¡¯s not her fault. There really isn¡¯t much for an overly aggressive, deviant elf to do in a remote area like this.

    ¡°You never told me how you know about succubi. Sounded like there was a story in there.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I¡¯ve told you how the elven continent is divided into provinces, each ruled by a separate monarch. They¡¯re so different, you¡¯d never believe we live side-by-side. One of our immediate neighbors, the Twilight Province, has some peculiar¡­practices.¡±

    ¡°Like what, they wear their pants inside out?¡± That was vague.

    She chuckles. ¡°All elves pursue strength but the different provinces have different traditions regarding it. Twilight elves are known for their selective breeding. I know there is a clan with mind-stealer blood in their veins though I¡¯ve yet to meet them.¡±

    An elf mixed with a succubus. Saints give the world strength, if they are anything like her¡­

    I¡¯m brought out of my reverie by her poking my side, causing me to squirm. ¡°Our ride will be here shortly.¡±

    True to her prediction, it only takes a few moments before I spot the horses in the distance. Peter is driving the coach. I could of sworn we had a coachman. An older man with slightly gray hair¡­ah. Probably keeled over. Is it wrong that I don¡¯t care? I should care. Insensitive nobles who treat their servants like furniture always pissed me off.

    Been thinking that Kierra does a little too much housework, even if she doesn¡¯t complain. Just won¡¯t do. When my map sells, I¡¯m going to get us a real place, or at least a good piece of land and better materials if she insists on doing the building herself. Then I¡¯ll get a servant to handle the menial tasks and I¡¯ll make sure I remember their name. Maybe ask how they¡¯re doing and after their family from time to time.

    While I¡¯m lost in my random thoughts, the coach pulls to a stop. Father opens the door and Potter hops out. He makes a grab for our luggage but Kierra blocks him, handing over only two of the sacks filled our clothes. The smaller ones contain a few dried rations, my work, and her personal weapons. My cautious wife won¡¯t let such important items be out of reach.

    I climb in first and sit on the empty bench. Kierra settles down next to me, setting the bags on the floor. Doesn¡¯t take long before she¡¯s frowning. The bumpy dirt road combined with the lack of feet space must make for an uncomfortable experience for my wife who is the tallest person in the carriage. ¡°How long will this take?¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°If we ride hard, we can arrive by tomorrow afternoon.¡± I can hear his frustration at being exiled from the capital.

    ¡°No need.¡± She kicks off her shoes, drops her head on my lap and props feet on the cushioned bench. ¡°I¡¯m plenty comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Father averts his eyes. While he has never said anything, no doubt to avoid offending my wife, but he¡¯s clearly not comfortable witnessing our¡­affections. To his credit, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s because he hates it. More that it¡¯s outside his expectations. At my age, he must have already been considering possible engagements for me and love between women isn¡¯t exactly common amongst nobility.

    ¡°Father, tell me something. Why are the Grimoires coming to see us?¡±

    He turns back to me and latches onto the distraction from the boring routine of travel. ¡°That¡¯s not quite it. Your uncle was approached by the Guiness family.¡±

    I gasp. Wow. That¡¯s even more amazing than the Grimoires coming to see him. A finger taps my cheek. I look down to see Kierra looking at me questioningly. ¡°The Guiness are a family of merchants. The richest merchants in the kingdom. Their wealth alone elevated them to the position of high nobles and the king gave them the territory surrounding Fortitude and control of Sleepy Harbor.¡±

    Calling the Guiness family rich was like calling the sun bright. It¡¯s rumored that the entire family bleeds gold and shits jewels. Anyone who has their backing is guaranteed to be successful.

    By that same measure, anyone who makes them an enemy is doomed to miserable failure. Swiftest way to destroy a family is to attack their wallet and the Guiness have a tight grip on the nation¡¯s finances.

    ¡°He wrote me a letter. Once news of your marriage reached Summer Spire, your uncle was invited to the Guiness manor for tea. It progressed to dinners. Realizing their interest, he proposed a series of banquets, using finding an appropriate suitor for your cousin as an excuse. He mentioned inviting us before leaving. A few days later, he gets a bundle of fine silks as a gift and an acknowledgement saying that the head of the Guiness family himself plans to attend.¡±

    I shut my eyes and drop my head to the wall of the carriage with a soft thud. Someone really incredible has set their sights on us. This may be the best luck for the Tome family since the founding of the kingdom. ¡°Of course, since we have such good fortune, the Grimoires are determined to ruin it.¡±

    ¡°Without question. Which is why we must be vigilant. As long as we keep our eyes open for treachery, there is no possible way for them to ruin this for us.¡±

    For us, huh? I know a way to ruin this for us. Father is assuming that we, being Kierra and I, will simply go along with whatever the very rich merchant wants so we can get his money. Thing is, we don¡¯t need his money. I won¡¯t hesitate to walk out of the room if I sense even a little shady business.

    But I would like to gloat in front of Gordon. It¡¯s been a long time coming. Saints preserve me, it¡¯s been over five years since I¡¯ve seen that red-haired bandit. I bet he¡¯s gotten even uglier.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it.¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 4

    The sun is starting to set when we come to a sudden stop. Father moves to brush aside the window¡¯s shutters but is interrupted by Potter throwing open the door. I frown at the clear tension in his face. Something tells me that our peaceful ride is about to come to an end.

    ¡°If I could have your presence outside, my lord.¡±

    Father sniffs, features creased in annoyance, but leaves the carriage, shutting the door firmly behind him.

    ¡°At attention, Lou.¡± I look over to see Kierra grabbing her bag. The one with the weapons. Meeting my gaze, she taps my ear and makes a circling motion with her finger. ¡°We¡¯ve got visitors.¡±

    Really? Is the King¡¯s Road cursed? Twice in a row, traveling on it has led to unfortunate circumstances. I¡¯d have thought as the main way of transportation between the major cities, the kingdom would put some effort into ensuring the safety of travelers.

    Then again, such a road would also draw the biggest marks for bandits. And with the glaringly bright colors of the Tome family crest painted on the side of our carriage, it¡¯s practically daring someone to attack us.

    Sigh. I take it back. I blame my Father for everything.

    Quiver slung over her shoulder, Kierra reaches around my waist to tie off a sheath that holds one of her favorite hunting knives and slips a pair of smaller throwing knives into my palms. ¡°I¡¯ll be getting into position. You know what to do.¡±

    My stomach does an anxious little flip-flop but I don¡¯t hesitate to step out of the carriage. A quick glance up the road reveals a thick trunk of a felled tree has been laid across the road. Ah, how unoriginal. I¡¯m a bit embarrassed to be waylaid like this. If we had a pair of competent knights, they could have blown something like that out of the way without slowing the horses. I guess it¡¯s a good way to separate the good prey from the powerhouses.

    Maybe it¡¯s a better tactic than I think.

    Or maybe our knights are especially pitiable. Sigh.

    I turn back to see our ¡®visitors¡¯. Living out of the way where we do, I¡¯m no stranger to bandits. Mainly, they¡¯re a collection of a few criminals, a handful of dreaming farmer boys, and a majority of pitiful orphans with the odd ex-soldier. They come to our village in hopes our proximity to the capital means our peasants are richer than other peasants. Which makes them idiots, beginners, or idiotic beginners. Rabble passing through the Ironcast brothers can easily drive off.

    These bandits don¡¯t look like rabble. They¡¯re mounted and wear fine leathers. Their leader especially defies the dirty bandit stereotype with his slick black hair, polished shoes, and saints witness, a little cape over his shoulders.

    Why? Either he¡¯s a joker or a wannabe knight. I don¡¯t know which is sadder. Or funnier. Not that I¡¯d laugh right now. His people have us surrounded.

    Several eyes move to me as I slowly approach, including my exasperated father¡¯s. The bandit leader gives me an appraising look. He doesn¡¯t look very impressed. Sigh. Bastard. Not that I want the silly man interested in me but it¡¯s a blow to the ego. Bards sing about these types as lecherous fiends who¡¯d harass even grandmas. I¡¯d think I should get some reaction.

    Oh, wait. One of the guys behind the leader is leering at me. Our eyes meet and he flashes a menacing smile made of crooked, yellow teeth. It suits his bruised, pudgy face and not in a flattering way. Bile tickles my throat but I swallow it down.

    Guess I don¡¯t want attention after all.

    ¡°Well, well,¡± the leader says as I come to stand just behind Father, ignoring his heavy glare. ¡°You must be Lady Tome. What a lovely father-daughter pair.¡±

    What kind of bandit says lovely? I hold back the urge to sneer and incline my head. ¡°Good evening to you, sir. Just came to ask why we¡¯ve been stopped.¡±

    ¡°As I was explaining to your father, you can all be on your way after handing over your valuables. We will leave you with enough supplies to reach the capital. A good deal, no?¡±

    Father opens his mouth but I talk over him. ¡°Generous, but we¡¯ll have to decline. Don¡¯t feel like losing my stuff to some ragtag thieves. It would be best for everyone if you left us alone.¡±

    Some of the bandits chuckle as a heavy hand lands on my shoulder. I refuse to meet my father¡¯s eyes. After all, I know exactly what he wants to say. What are you doing? Just hand over the stupid things and let the city garrison deal with these thugs!

    Sigh. Would that I could.

    The bandit leader lets out a put-upon sigh. ¡°Look here, princess. This isn¡¯t a game. I¡¯m a bit more lenient than others in my profession but you shouldn¡¯t try and take advantage of my virtue. I¡¯ll only make my offer one more time.¡±

    Virtue, huh? That¡¯s like a murderer praising his restraint for only murdering people one day out of the week.

    Kierra should have had enough time by now.

    Flicking a wrist, I throw one of the knives at the leader. After hours of practice, it flies true. Too bad he¡¯s not a wooden target. He jerks his head to the side. Instead of going through his eye, a red line appears on his cheek. He scowls. ¡°You fuc¡ª¡±

    Despite everything, he notices the follow up, practically throwing himself off his horse. The arrow still hits him in the side, evidenced by his scream. His men start to react but before they realize what¡¯s happening, two more are hit, falling off their horses with heavy thumps. As they search for the threat, I dash off into the forest where more of them are waiting.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Fighting bandits is also nothing new to me, as there are few things scarier than boars near our village. Their current tactic is common. The heavier forces directly waylay the target while their weaker members hang in the wings, ready to ambush stragglers.

    As expected, the group I charge toward is comprised of boys barely out of childhood, thin and dirty, armed with weapons better left as scrap. Attention caught by what has to be a massacre behind me, they¡¯re caught by surprise as I plow into one of the larger boys, knocking him to the ground.

    As the air is knocked out of his from the fall, I¡¯m pulling the big hunting knife from its sheath and drive it into his side. He squeals like a stuck pig. Really. It¡¯s grating enough that I want to punch him in the throat to shut him up but I relent, getting to my feet. I don¡¯t actually want to kill him and there are plenty of others to deal with.

    Their friends¡¯ screams jostle the others out of their stasis and they run at me with more enthusiasm than anything else. Slow. Compared to my maniac of a spouse¡¯s flurry of attacks during our spars, the bandits are ridiculously slow and clumsy.

    I take swipes at them with the knife, drawing blood. Honestly, my attacks probably aren¡¯t much better than theirs. We haven¡¯t quite gotten into proper fighting technique. Not much need with my other abilities, that I unfortunately can¡¯t use now. I am, however, an expert of scrambling out of the way of danger.

    ¡°Aaaaagggghhhh! Devil!¡±

    The scream is filled with so much terror, the boys pause in their assault to find the source. I bite my lip to keep from laughing as I watch my wife causing havoc in the midst of the bandits. She ducks a fireball that looks close enough to singe her skin before grabbing the leg of a braying horse and throwing it at the panicked caster. While the surrounding bandits are reeling at the ridiculous sight, she jumps at another group, tearing through them and leaving screaming, broken men in her wake.

    Wow. I know she¡¯s a nightmare to fight but I can¡¯t help but be impressed watching her in action. I clear my throat to grab the attention of the terrified boys. I point at her. ¡°You should surrender before she makes her way over here.¡±

    They look at each other, then to Kierra as she decapitates a bandit with his own sword, and back to each other. As one they take a step back, lowering their weapons. I nod. No shame in surrendering when someone like that is your opponent. ¡°Great. We¡¯ll just¡ª¡±

    The young bandits take off, each going in a different direction as they crash through the trees. Sigh. Should have expected that. With a grunt, I grab the boy bleeding out on the ground and make my way towards my elf.

    Kierra is finishing up. Most of the enemies are laid out on the ground, groaning from their injuries. The few who can stand are corralled to kneel in the middle of the road, my wife standing over them.

    ¡°¡ªmay escape. After all, I¡¯ll only be able to catch one of you. But whoever I do catch, you¡¯ll die slowly. I¡¯ll tear little pieces of you away until you are begging for death. Then, I¡¯ll choke you with your own guts. So, come on. Is anyone of you willing to sacrifice yourself for your comrades? There must be one hero amongst such noble thieves.¡±

    I lay down my burden before walking away as she continues to deliver horrifying and mocking threats to the shaking bandits, heading for my father. The Ironcast brothers have him shielded between them, their nice new armor covered in dirt and gore. They nod to me in a rare bout of seriousness.

    ¡°Pete, Pot, go handle that tree. Lady Atainna seems to have the bandits well under control and we need to clear the road for the soldiers.¡± As the two knights jog off to do his bidding, Father raises his hands. ¡°As our contract demands, obey my call.¡±

    I can¡¯t help being a little excited as the air stirs and four barely visible rings appear around my father. Each of them are slightly tinted; green, blue, red, and a silvery gray, resenting the four elemental affinities.

    This is the culmination of his life¡¯s work, the Zero Affinity Theory. It says that when incorporeal elementals are born, they have no affinity at all but are shaped by their home realm. If a caster were to make a contract with those beings at the time of birth, they could technically have an elemental with any affinity despite their own after time for development.

    The downside? Incorporeal elementals rarely have intelligence. Contracting one at the birth stage means no intelligence at all. Besides that, the zero doesn¡¯t just stand for affinity but also for their mana. When he contracted them, their mana coefficient was 1. Seriously 1. The plus side is that he can contract four, no problem. The downside is that they¡¯re useless for years until their coefficients develop.

    This is the first time I¡¯ve seen them in action.

    ¡°Rock, fix the road and check for any other traps. Wind, carry a message to the guards in front of the largest wall down the road. Tell them bandits have been caught and we need help transporting them. Aqua, source of water. Flame, go high in the sky and flare to draw attention.¡±

    They move on his orders. Aqua and Wind quickly disappear, one going into the trees while the other disappears down the road. Rock starts hovering over the dirt road, the shape of it becoming more definite and the ground more compact.

    Flame hovers by Father¡¯s hand. He mumbles under his breath and a small fire appears in his palm. The elemental moves into it, sucking the flames into itself. Then it moves into the air and begins to pulse with a bright red light that I know can be seen for miles.

    It¡¯s amazing to watch. I remember seeing them when I was younger, when just appearing exhausted them. I can only imagine what they¡¯ll be able to accomplish in another ten, twenty years. Hmph. Father may be annoying but there¡¯s no denying he¡¯s a genius for his work.

    Yet, even something like this is drowned out by the Grimoire family simply because they were born with greater affinities.

    I really hate them.

    ¡°The two of you did good work today,¡± Father calls out to the brothers. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to add a bonus to your pay this month.¡±

    Kierra comes jogging toward us. ¡°The bandits are all down. If you want them to live, I¡¯ll need your knights to help me clean them up and bind them. Otherwise, I¡¯ll have them dig a big enough ditch to toss them in.¡±

    Father¡¯s eyes widen when he takes in all the blood covering her. Hehe. They¡¯ve never seen her outside a civilized conversation. Poor men have no idea what she¡¯s capable of. ¡°Ah, the city will reward us for the live capture of criminals, so we¡¯re saving them. If you can keep them corralled for a bit, my summons will be along.¡±

    ¡°Not a worry, Honored Father.¡± She heads back to the captives with a smirk, all of which obediently stayed where she left them.

    ¡°Your wife¡­is quite capable.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh. I told you, she took care of me in the Enchanted Forest. Compared to that, a few bandits are nothing.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± From the gleam in his eye, this is going to be something that¡¯s spread around at the parties in Summer Spire but whatever. He doesn¡¯t need my confirmation to see how strong she is and this is only just the surface. ¡°Well, Aqua is bringing back water for the captives. I suppose we should set up camp.¡±

    He says that but makes no move, giving me a look. Sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll handle it.¡±

    ¡°As expected of my daughter.¡±

    As expected of my father, pushing the heavy work onto someone else. Bet he takes the coach too. What you don¡¯t know is that I like sleeping under the stars. You can take the cushioned bench, I¡¯ve got a beautiful woman to cuddle me. Hehe.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 5

    The sound of pounding hooves wakes me shortly after dawn. Kierra is moving before my eyes fully open. As I step out of our small tent, I see her crouched in the shadow of the carriage.

    A group is fast approaching. I wave her down when I spot the shiny armors and flying red-orange banner with a yellow sun displayed prominently in the middle. She ignores me as she smoothly nock an arrow. Sigh. Really hope the nice soldiers don¡¯t take her precautions the wrong way.

    Peter, who fell asleep on the driver¡¯s bench, snorts loudly as his eyes blink open. Spotting the approaching soldiers who are close enough that I can count them, he hops to the ground and pounds on the door to the carriage. ¡°My lord! The soldiers have arrived!¡±

    Father crashes out of the carriage, shrugging on an elegant robe whose design is ruined by the garish colors of our house. The effect is further ruined from the peeks of his night clothes that can be seen under the loose collar but he doesn¡¯t have the time to fix his shabby appearance as the soldiers appear in front of us.

    I stand at Father¡¯s side as the one in the lead hops off his horse and removes his helmet.

    He¡¯s a noble.

    What gives it away is how his eyes cut to the side to take in the crest on the side of our carriage and the way his eyes narrow in contempt before his average features even out. Shouldn¡¯t have expected anything else from soldiers of Summer Spire but saints give me the patience, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be dealing with this muleshit before we even got to the city.

    ¡°I am Captain Lewis Salenski of the Summer Spire Guards.¡±

    ¡°Luke Tome.¡± They shake hands briskly. ¡°The captives are tied up over¡ª¡±

    ¡°We have wagons coming. For now, I¡¯d just like everyone¡¯s statements about what happened for my report.¡± He looks over to the driver¡¯s bench where Potter is still asleep, mouth open as he softly snores. ¡°¡­if you¡¯d wake up your man.¡±

    Father is flushed with embarrassment-fueled rage. So much that he can¡¯t even articulate, gesturing sharply toward the sleeping knight. Peter obeys the silent command.

    Unfortunately, he chooses to wake his brother by kicking him off the bench. The air is filled with a series of curses exchanged between the two, further embarrassing themselves.

    Father¡¯s eye twitches with the effort not to react but I have no doubt that if there weren¡¯t any witnesses, and if he had the strength to do it, he¡¯d strangle them.

    Salenski is unfazed. ¡°Then I¡¯ll start with you, sir. Can you tell me what happened?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see much. When the carriage came to a sudden stop, I came out to see what the problem was but retreated when the fighting started. My knights and daughter-in-law handled the situation.¡±

    ¡°Daughter-in-law?¡± He looks at me suspiciously and I hold up my hands in silent denial.

    ¡°That would be me.¡±

    The soldier turns around sharply, realizing there was someone else nearby who¡¯s presence he couldn¡¯t detect. His tension melts into loose-jawed shock as she steps in front of him. There is a long beat of silence as the soldiers examine the elf in front of them.

    ¡°Kierra D¡¯Atainna.¡± She holds out her hand. It takes Salenski a long time before his hand slowly comes up to grasp it and he gulps audibly. ¡°Now, you would like to know what happened?¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Yes, um¡­my lady.¡± Hehe. This guy doesn¡¯t know what her status is but the fact that she¡¯s an elf makes him automatically default to respectful. Or maybe he doesn¡¯t want to take the chance to offend her in hopes of impressing her later. From the look on his face as he discretely looks her up and down, I¡¯d put my money on the latter.

    ¡°It¡¯s as Honored Father says. However, once the carriage came to a sudden stop, I assumed the worst. Grabbing my bow, I hid in the trees. I saw them before they had a proper chance to counterattack. From what I could gather, they were amateurs being led by a few less-than-competent commanders on horseback. I shot three of them down but one has incredibly good senses and turned tail the moment he saw me. He had an obnoxious looking red garment over his shoulders. Hopefully, this is the kind of information you are looking for?¡±

    ¡°Y¡ª¡± Salenski clears his throat. ¡°Yes. The man is known to us. Rat keeps escaping our patrols. Knowing his identity will make it easier to track them down. You¡¯re very observant, my lady.¡±

    ¡°Those who aren¡¯t don¡¯t tend to live long lives.¡± She smiles at him and his lips helplessly mirror the expression. ¡°There¡¯s no need to question the knights. They encountered the bandits headfirst, so I doubt they had much time for observations.¡±

    ¡°As you say.¡± He looks over at the brothers who are just now coming over and shakes his head. ¡°I feel my lady¡¯s eyes are far more reliable. The rest of our investigation will involve questioning the bandits. Your actions were spot on. It¡¯s very commendable to see anyone react with such clarity.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Then I suppose it will be okay for us to be on our way?¡±

    ¡°Our wagons will be here to escort the criminals soon. I¡¯d hope you¡¯d wait that long before setting off so I may escort you to the city. It¡¯d be shameful to let such a beautiful woman befall tragedy for a second time.¡±

    The smile he gives her is no doubt meant to be charming. Judging from her twitching lips, she¡¯s holding back a laugh. ¡°Thank you, but we best not wait. Someone is awaiting us in the city on business best not left.¡±

    ¡°If you need us, you can find us at the Tome estate in the city,¡± my father interrupts curtly. Someone¡¯s not happy being ignored. ¡°Peter, hurry up with the horses. We¡¯ve already lost good time and I want to make the city by tonight.¡±

    ¡°If you need anything, don¡¯t be afraid to find me.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    I¡¯d already started for the carriage and catch the tail end of their exchange as I settle onto the bench. It isn¡¯t long before Kierra ducks inside, laying the bag with her bow and the blanket we used last night on the ground before resuming her former reclining position. ¡°You were quiet.¡±

    ¡°What, about the way he was trying to charm you? I might have stepped in if he was gaining any distance but I know he¡¯s not exactly your type.¡± I¡¯d imagine he¡¯s on the small side. Then again, compared to the behemoths she prefers, all men are.

    ¡°True.¡± She turns, face pressed against my stomach. Seeing the way her hair falls across my lap, it¡¯s impossible not to run my hands through the loose strands. ¡°I finally understand what you mean about the status of your house. To that man, once he took in your family crest, you were less than air. Human culture is interesting.¡±

    ¡°Why are you saying it like that? You¡¯re literally a part of a royal family.¡±

    ¡°Elven royalty isn¡¯t determined by bloodline but by duels. My aunt was graciously handed her position, though has defended it many times, but her mother had to kill her predecessor.¡±

    She grins up at me. Really, I should have guessed it¡¯d be something like this. ¡°So, the idea of someone judging your capacity without meeting you, simply based on your parents, is baffling. Especially when such didn¡¯t matter with an unknown like me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re more beautiful than any queen. No one would doubt your nobility.¡±

    ¡°Aw.¡± She reaches up to run a finger down my cheek. ¡°Since when did you start using such sweet words?¡±

    I¡¯m not trying to compliment you here. It¡¯s the truth. The way she walks, the way she talks, the confidence she talks down to people with that says she can handle any situation that¡¯s thrown at her. No one with any common sense would think she¡¯s a common anything. But that sounds callous so instead, I grab her hand and kiss the back, the way I¡¯ve seen knights do.

    Her smirk tells me she sees right through the gesture.

    Luckily, Father jumps into the carriage along with Peter before she can tease me and we¡¯re soon on our way. This could have easily been another tragedy like my kidnapping. The fact that I made it out proves how much I¡¯ve grown.

    New relationships count as growth too. In the world of nobility, you are who you¡¯re allied with.

    The Grimoires may have the ear of the king and most of the nobility under their thumbs but that¡¯s nothing compared to my wife and Cosmo¡¯s legacy. Hehe. Those thieves don¡¯t know what¡¯s coming for them.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 6

    I realize that I never included my family in my loyalties. Nobility may be all about filiality but I won¡¯t let the romanticism of the idea cloud reality.

    As a subpar caster with a basic fire affinity and zero motivation to improve the family, I wasn¡¯t held in high regards. You really get to know someone when they don¡¯t need anything from you. I¡¯ll never forget the snide looks aimed at my back every time my father guided me out of the Tome estate in Summer Spire with a heavy hand on my shoulder.

    Which is why I can¡¯t bring myself to return my uncle¡¯s big smile as he rushes forward to greet us. After riding for hours to arrive here just before nightfall, all I want is a nap but I stuff down my annoyance as the two brothers hug.

    ¡°Luke, good of you to come.¡± My uncle slaps Father¡¯s shoulder heartily as he pulls away. Huh. Never seen him with this much energy before.

    ¡°Jackal! Thank you for the invitation.¡±

    ¡°No need to be so formal. This is your family home, you¡¯re welcome here anytime.¡± Never fails to amaze me how nobles can lie through their smiling teeth. I wonder where that sentiment was when we were thrown out after Father ¡®embarrassed¡¯ himself arguing with the head of the Grimoire family. ¡°And you must be Kierra.¡±

    Once again, I¡¯m ignored in favor of my wife. Uncle Jackal¡¯s eyes are practically shining as he takes in the elf, stretching out his hand. ¡°Javarius Tome, but friends call me Jackal.¡±

    ¡°Kierra D¡¯Atainna.¡±

    ¡°Oh? You still go by your old name?¡±

    ¡°Not an elven tradition.¡±

    ¡°I see. I¡ª¡±

    Yup, I¡¯ve had enough of this. ¡°Uncle.¡± He looks over to me at the interruption. I think I see a flash of annoyance on his features, but if it was there, it¡¯s gone too fast for me to be sure. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again.¡±

    ¡°You as well. I always knew you were rebellious but to think you would run off and get married. I bet your father had a heart attack.¡±

    Haha. Didn¡¯t run off, I got kidnapped. He sounds way too friendly. It¡¯s sending shudders down my spine. ¡°Can you blame me?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. You wouldn¡¯t be the first to lose reason for a beautiful woman. I can only wish your cousin finds such a wonderful bride. Ah, speaking of them¡­¡±

    He looks over his shoulder as a door opens and two people approach. Uncle Jackal is a pretty regular looking guy. He has the usual dark skin and dark eyes of the Tome family. The only differences between him and Father is he has a bit more height and his long, braided hair, a style that separates the main family from the rest of us.

    Matthias, his son, is a carbon copy of his father, except where my uncle has the round belly of overindulgence, his body is lean and strong from working long days. His dark eyes take in everything with a blank look that hides his thoughts.

    Then there¡¯s Jacquellin. The jewel of the family. Glowing bronze skin with bright hazel eyes and doll-like features compared to my more¡­ehem, striking looks. Her braids are twisted through golden beads that clack together when she walks, giving her movements rhythm. Unlike everyone else, she actually does acknowledge me first, but there¡¯s no familial warmth in her gaze. If anything, I¡¯d say it¡¯s curiosity.

    ¡°These are my children, Matthias and Jacquellin.¡±

    ¡°But go ahead and call them Matty and Jac,¡± I throw in, grinning at the way Jac flinches. She¡¯s always hated the nickname. Claims it¡¯s too masculine. Too bad. Blame your father for giving you a name that¡¯s such a mouthful to say.

    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you,¡± Jac gushes with child-like excitement as she grabs Kierra¡¯s extended hand. The ever-calm Matty simply gives her a quiet nod but he¡¯s smiling as they shake hands.

    ¡°We can continue this in the sitting room.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I¡¯m rather tired.¡± Kierra shuts his friendliness down without mercy. ¡°I was hoping to have a rest before we engaged in any discussions.¡±

    ¡°Of course. You must be very tired after taking on those bandits and traveling all day.¡± Father grins at their surprised reactions.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a problem.¡± Uncle Jackal snaps his finger and a maid comes out of the side room. ¡°She¡¯ll show you to your room. Your bags¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll carry them. Goodnight.¡± She gives the room one of her classic smirks before gesturing for the maid to lead the way and following her out. I¡¯m ready to follow her but Uncle Jackal grabs my shoulder.

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    His smile slips away, leaving behind an indifferent mask. Ah, there¡¯s my beloved uncle. ¡°Lou, what do you say about having a drink with the family? We can all catch up.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯d be delighted.¡± I let him guide me into the sitting room. A fire is burning. It¡¯s not cold enough for us to need one but it gives the room a cozy atmosphere accentuated by the overly plush furniture. A large bottle of wine made from rare crystal is sitting on a wooden tray on top of the sitting table along with five glasses.

    We all take seats and Jac pours for the room.

    ¡°Lou,¡± Uncle Jackal says as he leans forward. ¡°You owe us a story.¡±

    Owe? Cheh. Thinks just because we share a last name, I¡¯m his servant. I don¡¯t owe you anything. ¡°I met an elf in a forest. I thought she was cute so I married her.¡±

    The look he gives me could curl iron. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for your flippant jokes. With the Guiness taking an interest in our family, this is an unprecedented opportunity.¡±

    ¡°About that opportunity.¡± I put down my cup that I¡¯m frankly not interested in. Kierra was right. After tasting elven brew, everything else is too disgusting to drink for enjoyment. ¡°What does the esteemed Guiness family want with us? Or, should I say, what do they want with my wife?¡±

    Seeing my serious expression, Uncle Jackal puts down his cup and laces his fingers. ¡°I¡¯d think it¡¯d be obvious. The Guiness family are the richest merchants in the kingdom. They make their money on the monopoly they have over foreign trade but it¡¯s limited to the Dragon Isles and Green Mountain. Kierra is from the elven nation who cut off contact with us centuries ago. There¡¯s only one thing he could want.¡±

    ¡°He wants to use Kierra to establish trade with the elves. That¡¯s a pretty big assumption.¡±

    Uncle Jackal frowns and looks to Father. ¡°You said she was related to the queen.¡±

    ¡°She is,¡± I say, drawing his attention back to me. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean anything. I really hope you didn¡¯t bring the Golden Family here on a false guarantee.¡±

    He grits his teeth. ¡°I didn¡¯t make any promises, but I shouldn¡¯t have to tell you the importance of these parties. She¡¯s your wife. Convince her.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± I stand up, looking down at them, an action that would be unthinkable for me in the past. If anything can get me riled up, it¡¯s my wife. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to convince anyone. That¡¯s the merchants¡¯ jobs. I came here to show solidarity against the Grimoires.¡±

    ¡°The Guiness are offering¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do you know why the elves cut off contact with humans?¡± My sharp interjection leaves him confused. The same expression is mirrored on every other face. I shake my head. ¡°It¡¯s not something that can be bridged by a bit of gold. I¡¯m telling you right now, I can¡¯t say with any certainty that I can convince her.¡± Saints damn their greed, I don¡¯t even think I want to. I¡¯m here for the Grimoires. This feels like they¡¯re selling her like cattle.

    ¡°Now, now.¡± Jac stands up with the wine and refills glasses. ¡°Lou, he doesn¡¯t mean anything nefarious about it. All he¡¯s asking is that you bridge the cultural gap. Whether or not an agreement can be reached is, as you said, between her and the merchant.¡±

    With her reasonable tone and open gaze, any more on my part will be seen as unreasonable. I retake my seat with a huff and Uncle Jackal settles back, letting out a deep breath.

    ¡°As Jacquellin said, we don¡¯t have any bad intentions.¡± Uncle Jackal takes a long drink from his cup. ¡°After all, we¡¯re family. That includes Kierra. Trade is beneficial for all but not at the expense of someone.¡±

    ¡°¡­sorry.¡± I¡¯m not sorry but I won¡¯t break their smiling facades. They say this now but we¡¯ll see what they have to say when they think they¡¯re alone. ¡°I must be overly tired. To be honest, it¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve been in the capital. I can¡¯t help but be a bit anxious.¡±

    ¡°Understandable. You should rest. We¡¯ve put you in the second guestroom. Do you¡ª¡±

    ¡°I remember.¡± I stand and give them a brief bow before walking from the sitting room. At some signal I don¡¯t see, the manservant standing outside the room moves inside and pulls the sliding doors closed. Suppose they want privacy.

    Leaning against the doors, I close my eyes and transform my ears, the rounded tips sharpening as green fur sprouts over the skin. Their conversation drifts to me despite the barrier.

    ¡°What are you doing, Luke?¡± Uncle hisses. ¡°Why isn¡¯t she on board? Do you know how important this is for us?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me. That girl has always been uncontrollable.¡±

    ¡°For saints¡¯ sake, you¡¯re her father. Reign her in. Lord Guiness has promised us a negotiator¡¯s fee and a contract of 5% of the profits from any merchandise originating from the elven continent, along with a 30% discount on the products we purchase ourselves. Do you know what 5% of the Guiness¡¯ wealth looks like? There are rumors that they are bankers for the crown. They have more money than the king himself!¡±

    ¡°More than that,¡± Jac cuts in, ¡°this is our one opportunity to impress the other houses. Nearly all the nobles in Summer Spire will be in attendance at these parties. If they see we have a good relationship with the Guiness, it will open the doors for everything. Conversely, if we embarrass them, we¡¯ll be truly ousted from court.¡±

    ¡°Fine points you all make,¡± Father retorts with a scoff. ¡°And what have you offered her? Lourianne is not as ambitious as you, but she knows an imbalanced trade when she sees one.¡±

    ¡°What does she want?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± He laughs bitterly. ¡°That was the source of all my woe and the endless string of tutors shaking their heads. She doesn¡¯t want a damn thing. Besides showing up the Grimoires. I¡¯m glad she¡¯s at least eager for that.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s more to life than revenge!¡± Uncle huffs. ¡°So, we show up and strut our new friends in front of our old enemies. That doesn¡¯t matter if they don¡¯t stick around. Then we¡¯ll be in the same place as we were before, beneath their heel.¡±

    ¡°Even if you tell me that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to make something of yourself? Think of it. With the Guiness as sponsors, you can go back to research. Mayhap at the Grand Hall!¡±

    There is a long silence.

    Uncle voice sounds triumphant when he speaks again. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you have to do or what you have to promise her, Luke. Get your daughter on board or we¡¯re all out in the cold.¡±

    I snort, reversing my transformation as I move through the halls. I knew their ¡®happy family¡¯ routine was garbage. At least their real faces are all business. A part of me expected they¡¯d start throwing around insults outside my presence but no, they¡¯re only concerned about their futures. Money unites all. Because of it, they didn¡¯t even blink at their unusual union.

    Looks like I need to add the rest of the Tome family to my list of enemies.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 7

    ¡°Oh!¡±

    My eyes slowly blink open at the maid¡¯s exclamation. Very reluctantly. Sprawled across Kierra¡¯s chest with our legs intertwined, I¡¯m incredibly comfortable. It¡¯d be great if she just left but her shuffling feet tells me she¡¯s not going to. Sigh. Probably getting an eyeful.

    Another thing Kierra brought back from the elven continent are clothes made from this white, sheer material that feels great and hides nothing. Painted in the light from the early sun, her light green skin that resembles the first shoots of spring and moonstruck silver hair are a vision.

    I raise my chest and look over my shoulder at the young woman who is similarly captivated. She jumps when our eyes meet, hastily lowering her head. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Breakfast is being served in the main dining room. Your uncle is requesting your appearance.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You can go.¡± I lay back down as she scurries out of the room. A hand in my hair tells me Kierra¡¯s awake and I look up to see her watching me with a brow raised. Ah. In the bright light, her eyes are more golden than green. I love when they get like that. ¡°What¡¯s with that look?¡±

    ¡°Your family that you haven¡¯t seen for years is putting forth effort to reach out to you but you don¡¯t seem thrilled.¡±

    ¡°I might be if they cared about me at all.¡± I retell the conversation I overheard. ¡°They¡¯re practically selling you,¡± I growl. ¡°Or at least they¡¯re going to try.¡±

    ¡°A foolish hope. As if wealth would be enough to sway the monarchs of the elven nation.¡±

    ¡°You saying that you couldn¡¯t convince them even if you wanted to?¡±

    ¡°To trade with a group of human merchants? Not even I could. However, if I wanted to purchase the items and then sell them on afterwards, that would be feasible. Something to consider once our funds start running low.¡±

    ¡°Told you, I¡¯ve already got a plan for that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, your little guide to the forest.¡± She chuckles and sits up, carrying me with her. ¡°This would be a good time to market it. I¡¯ll help you with the drawings.¡±

    Another surprising talent of hers. ¡°¡­is there anything you¡¯re not good at? Anything at all?¡±

    ¡°Join me for a bath? Last night, the maids showed me the faucets that bring water. You may be weak but I have to admit, human casters are quite creative.¡±

    That¡¯s not an invitation I¡¯ll refuse. Grinning, I throw the blanket off me and take her hand as she walks toward the bathroom.

    -

    We take our time and are unsurprisingly the last ones to enter the dining room. The rest of the table looks up. Despite the behavior that could easily be taken as an insult, Uncle is still smiling as he waves me to the two empty seats next to him. Seats before my father. Easy to see who he values more.

    ¡°Good morning.¡± He gestures and one of the servants waiting by the wall disappears, likely to retrieve plates for us. ¡°Did the two you sleep well?¡±

    I mumble an affirmative. ¡°Very,¡± Kierra replies. ¡°You humans seem to love your creature comforts.¡±

    With her tone, I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a compliment or an insult. Plates are put in front of us and I don¡¯t hesitate to dig in, ignoring any table matters. No need to impress these people since they clearly don¡¯t care about me.

    Father watches me with an exasperated expression before clearing his throat. ¡°Jackal, if you have nothing planned for today, I¡¯ll take a walk through the capital.¡±

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t believe you¡¯ll have time for that. Since Matthias has work to do, I could use your help preparing for the party tonight. There¡¯s much to organize and the guests will start arriving at twelfth bell.¡±

    ¡°Twelfth bell?¡±

    I swallow quickly to answer Kierra¡¯s question but Jac beats me to it. ¡°When the Harvest Kingdom was founded, a being with the cosmic affinity was left on this continent along with the humans. Its name or appearance wasn¡¯t recorded but its teachings were. It taught the king that when the Earth revolved around the sun, it completed a year and how to divide the year into seasons, seasons into months, months into weeks, weeks into days, days into hours. Those hours are announced by the tolling bells found in all major cities and their function is maintained by the Bellkeepers.¡±

    She¡¯s as knowledgeable as ever. ¡°There are seven days of the week and they ring the bell 16 times from daybreak,¡± I add. ¡°There¡¯s supposedly 24 bells in a day but ringing them after dark would wake people. Nobility normally have their own timepieces.¡± Not us though, since we¡¯re broke.

    Right on time, the soft echoes of tolling bells reach us. ¡°Each toll is different. That¡¯s third bell. Not a lot of time to get this place ready for a party, Uncle.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll make do. Perhaps you can help Jacquellin with her preparations.¡± He looks to his daughter who gives him a discrete nod. Hmm, looks like these two have plans for me.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. And I¡¯d like to use the library. That won¡¯t be a problem, will it?¡±

    ¡°It is a family library. Though try not to get too involved. If you¡¯re anything like your father, once your nose is buried in those books, we won¡¯t see you again until spring.¡±

    My lips twitch as a smile tries to crawl onto my face. That¡­I think I¡¯ll take that as a compliment. ¡°Kierra, did you have something you wanted to do or¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll accompany you for the day.¡±

    -

    Jac¡¯s ¡®preparations¡¯ is preparing the gifts. Despite the fact that we¡¯re hosting, as the lower house, it falls on us to show our appreciation. If you¡¯re a high noble, your mere presence warrants compensation.

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    Of course, Jac doesn¡¯t need help with the gifts. This is just an excuse for more time to speak with Kierra to confirm her position on opening trade with the elves. I figure that out from the very first question she asks while the three of us are wrapping presents.

    ¡°It must have been difficult to cross the Enchanted Forest. I¡¯ve read that it is filled with all kinds of dangerous monsters.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s manageable,¡± Kierra says, setting a neatly wrapped box on the table.

    Jac stares hard at her, waiting for more details. My wife ignores her easily. After several long moments, she turns to me and gives me a look that¡¯s easy to understand.

    I ignore her too and reach for the next box.

    The gift wrapping becomes a quiet and awkward affair as Jac continues to try and stimulate the conversation. Says a lot about our status that we have to give other people gifts for coming to visit us. It¡¯s a little depressing.

    When the last gift is wrapped, Jac takes us to the dining hall that has been cleared for the occasion. Servants are in the midst of transforming the space, setting up tables along the walls for the food and draping expensive tapestries on the wall. The stage at the back of the room tells me that Uncle Jackal plans to invite some musicians as well.

    Not incredibly rare in the capital. As winter approaches and the roads become less suited for travel, droves of them will flock here for the seasonal parties and banquets. It¡¯s a risky move, though. Musicians are a sign of status and having bad music at your party could make someone a laughingstock.

    People have lost their heads for less.

    A maid spots Jac and briskly walks over with a sheet of paper. ¡°The lord asked you to confirm the guest list.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°I see Uncle has you doing all the work again.¡±

    ¡°As his daughter, it¡¯s only natural I lend him a hand,¡± she replies without looking up from the paper. ¡°He¡¯s getting on in the years.¡±

    Cheh. Making it seem like you¡¯re doing it out of the kindness of your heart. She¡¯s another bane of my childhood. While Gordon always put me down for being a Tome, everyone else put me down for not being my cousin. The perfect lady.

    But I know the real her. As someone no one thought would be anything, there was no need for her to play her games with me. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better for Matt to do this? After all, pretty soon, he¡¯ll be the one running the family.¡±

    Her face shows nothing but I know it burns. ¡°My brother has his own responsibilities,¡± she says coolly while rolling the paper up.

    ¡°Mm. Yeah, he¡¯s a capable son, isn¡¯t he? With him in charge, you¡¯ll finally be able to relax and focus on your own life. You can¡¯t stay here forever. I mean, who would have thought I¡¯d get married before you.¡±

    Her eye twitches with the effort to keep from reacting but its futile. I know her too well. My ambitious cousin has ability and her greatest frustration is knowing she¡¯ll never have the opportunity to show it. Not in our male and noble dominated society. For someone like me who couldn''t care less about ambition and prestige, it doesn¡¯t matter, but Jac wants to sit in the same room as the big boys.

    The excuse for the parties is about finding her a fianc¨¦. Though Uncle says it¡¯s an excuse, I¡¯m certain there¡¯s truth in it. Marrying for political power is the standard in our circles. I bet it was Jackal¡¯s foremost plan to raise his status. Now that Kierra¡¯s come along, he¡¯s shifted focus.

    Which is why Jac is so proactive in her ¡®pursuit¡¯ of my wife, no doubt. She must think that a good role in uniting our family with the Guiness will give her some power over her future.

    Idiot. You¡¯ve lost your mind if you think I¡¯m going to let either one of us become a pawn in another one of your manipulations. ¡°Hey, Kierra. Let¡¯s go for a walk. I want to see the capital before it really gets freezing.¡±

    Jac whips around to us. ¡°Now? We only have a few hours until the party!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be back in time¡­probably.¡±

    Oh, that¡¯s perfect. Imagining us not being at that party tonight, Jac has an expression like she¡¯s swallowed lemon juice. ¡°It¡¯d be better to choose a different day. There are three free days at the beginning of next week where we have nothing planned. If you could hold off until then, we¡¯ll provide you with the family¡¯s carriage, a guide, and servants to assist you.¡±

    Let the bargaining begin. ¡°Please. We wouldn¡¯t want to trouble you and it hasn¡¯t been that long since I¡¯ve been in the capital. We can find our own way.¡± I turn to Kierra and she answers my smirk with one of her own. ¡°We can go to all the seedy places I was too young to visit before.¡±

    ¡°How exciting.¡±

    ¡°You can still do that later,¡± Jac says quickly, a hint of panic entering her voice. ¡°Father offered you the use the library. That includes the summoning records.¡±

    If I was a dog, my tail would be wagging when I hear those words. Jac also sees my enthusiasm and lets out a deep breath. ¡°Just make sure to follow the rules. The last time Matt, hey, wait!¡±

    She calls out to me but I ignore her as I leave the room. Kierra is right beside me as I restrain myself from running through the halls. ¡°Do you want to tell me why you¡¯re so excited?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re bribing me with summoning records.¡± Devious bastards, they know I can¡¯t say no to that!

    ¡°Every summoner keeps records of every interaction they ever make with an elemental for the next generation. It¡¯s an invaluable source of information for summoners. As old as we are, we¡¯ve got dozens of volumes and we¡¯ve spent thousands of gold crowns obtaining the records of famous summoners outside the family. As disgusting as it is, we¡¯ve even got some Grimoire family records. It¡¯s the Tome family¡¯s greatest treasures.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re ready to jump out of your skin for a few books.¡±

    I give her a look over my shoulder. Hey now. Even if we¡¯re married, there¡¯re things you can¡¯t say. Summoning records aren¡¯t ¡®a few books¡¯. They¡¯re the blood of a summoning family. ¡°Those books are the only accounts of planes besides our own. You¡¯ll understand how valuable that is one day. But for now, you can just watch me drool over them.¡±

    I never thought this day would come. I¡¯ve always been fascinated with my family legacy. With my ability, I thought I¡¯d be a mediocre summoner at best. Mediocre isn¡¯t enough to get access to the summoning records. My palms are getting sweaty with excitement. It¡¯s not my fault. The obsession with elemental planes is practically in my blood.

    I throw open the door to Uncle¡¯s study. It¡¯s a nice space but very minimal. None of the tapestries or carpet usually found in the homes of nobles and that¡¯s not his choice. The shallow coffers of the Tome family can¡¯t afford the excess.

    Despite that, Uncle seems upbeat seated behind his great desk reading through a stack of papers. Until I barge in. He looks up with a distinctive frown. Our eyes meet and he lets out a big sigh. Heh. There¡¯s no need for either of us to say anything. He knows why I¡¯m here. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d have to play our trump card so soon. We¡¯re really trying to do the best thing for the entire family.¡±

    He can see from my expression that I don¡¯t care about any of that. With another big sigh, he reaches into a drawer and pulls out a key. He tosses it to me and I snatch it out the air, moving eagerly to a wooden cabinet against the wall of the room. Not much security for our family treasures but really, they¡¯re not valuable to anyone else. No robber is going to steal a bunch of books no one wants to read when there¡¯s gold and silver in the house.

    I open the doors reverently. There are five shelves inside. Four of them are filled with thick books; some pristine, some fighting against the ravages of time. There¡¯s not a speck of dust to be found. I grab the first book on the highest shelf. It¡¯s so old, the leather is cracking and a small fleck falls off the cover but the pages are fine.

    I cradle the book as I blindly fall into the chair next to the cabinet and slowly open it to the first page. The words are messy, almost illegible but I can just make it out. I curl up in the chair, putting the book against my knees as I devour the first page, being just as careful as before as I turn to the next.

    Kierra leans over my shoulder. It doesn¡¯t take long before she¡¯s bored, sitting up with a little confused noise. Her nails briefly rake against my scalp before she wanders off, presumably to amuse herself. I¡¯m too absorbed in the words of the Tome ancestors to really pay attention to what¡¯s going on.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 8

    ¡°¡ªu. Lou!¡±

    I look up to see Jac standing over me, with a scowl on her face. Hmm. How long have I been in this chair? From my slightly numb legs, it¡¯s been more than a few minutes.

    Not my fault. It¡¯s one thing hearing someone try to generalize the planes. It¡¯s something else when a summoner records the exact words of the elemental. The first record only talks about Line of Fire, one of the weakest fire elemental planes, but I see it in a whole new light. Not to mention I¡¯m not even halfway through the book and this is one of the thinner ones. It¡¯ll take longer than the winter to get through all of them.

    Maybe not. Sleep¡¯s overrated anyway.

    ¡°You really are just like your father,¡± my cousin says, bringing my attention back to her. ¡°Come on, get up. The first guest will be arriving any moment and you¡¯re not ready.¡±

    I take in her outfit. It¡¯s the usual flowing, bulky dress of nobility. The more fabric your clothes use, the more it costs and the greater your status. As a result, women come in dresses that make them look as round as an apple and the men wear vests under their vests. Have to give her credit, Jac has more taste than most. While the skirts flare out, from the waist up, the blue material is form fitting, a daring cut over the chest showing off her figure to its best.

    Heh. Bet that wasn¡¯t her idea. Last thing she wants now is to draw attention from any young nobles. ¡°Look at you, man-bait.¡±

    She winces. ¡°Hurry up. You¡¯re the star of the show after all.¡±

    ¡°It''s not me really.¡± I stand up and stretch, wincing as things creak. With careful movements, I place the book back in its place, locking the cabinet. ¡°And you¡¯ve finally decided to stop beating around the bush.¡±

    She snorts. ¡°Not that it ever worked on you. So, yeah. We want to use your wife to make a connection to the elves and make lots of money. But really Lou, you still don¡¯t know how this game is played? Instead of getting incensed, you should be thinking about what you can get out of this. With the Guiness family, the sky¡¯s the limit.¡±

    ¡°I thought about that. The problem is that I can¡¯t imagine anything they can give me.¡± I move from the room and she follows behind me. ¡°We¡¯ve got a good life.¡±

    ¡°¡­how could I forget. Lourianne Tome is the only noble who doesn¡¯t want to get ahead. Just keep thinking about it. There has to be something. Weren¡¯t you supposed to go to the Grand Hall last year?¡±

    I turn toward her. I was headed to the great school of the Harvest Kingdom when I was kidnapped by Crowley Cain, the madman who changed my destiny. I never thought much of it. I¡¯m a summoner. There¡¯s nothing that place can teach me that my own family can¡¯t. However, they may be able to help me with my new body.

    Jac smiles when she sees my interest. ¡°If the Guiness family speaks, there¡¯s no problem getting you a spot during the next semester. Think about it. And even if you don¡¯t care about anything, at least don¡¯t embarrass us.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± She leaves me as we reach my room, hurrying off to do whatever last minute preparations she needs to make.

    It¡¯s the best room in the mansion besides the main one, with a nicely furnished welcoming room off the bedroom. The usual clean space is covered in a variety of clothes. A single outfit stands out from the others, neatly laid out on the couch.

    I walk over and run my hand over the intricately embroidered vest and crisp shirt. They¡¯re in the family colors but the vibrancy has been reduced, making them somewhat bearable and the dark pants offset them. First time I¡¯ve seen something representing the family that isn¡¯t completely atrocious.

    ¡°You like?¡±

    I turn and freeze as Kierra appears in the doorway to the bedroom. She¡¯s also been getting ready. Her dress is a pale orange with a strip of brown around the waist. What should follow after is the series of flowing skirts but instead, it¡¯s the white sheer material of her sleeping gowns. The top has also been altered, the shoulders cut away and the V on the chest lowered to a scandalous degree. I know it didn¡¯t come that way.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Very much,¡± I half-whisper through my dry mouth as I take her in.

    She smiles. ¡°I was talking about your outfit.¡±

    ¡°That too.¡± I walk over and run a finger over one of her shoulders. Dammit, they¡¯re going to be all over her at the party. ¡°What do you think about staying here?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Are you sure? The Grimoires will be attending tonight.¡±

    Their name cools my rising lust and I step past her. ¡°Then I need to hurry and get ready.¡± Her chuckles fade out as I move into the bathroom. Time for the big reveal.

    -

    When we walk in, the nobles have already entered. The dining hall has been completely transformed; pristine white table cloths and rarely used crystal lights placed in intricate holders gives the room an elegant air. A small band is situated on the stage, playing a charming tune that facilitates conversation.

    Many of those conversations stop as we come in. Jaws drop and eyes go wide as they take in my wife who is walking arm-in-arm with me. Along with her dress, she¡¯s tied her hair up and is wearing a borrowed garnet necklace. Combined with her tinted skin and green-golden eyes, she¡¯s like a goddess of fall.

    Little old me is barely noticeable at her side. That¡¯s fine. This is what I want. Once they get over their shock and start asking questions, they¡¯ll notice me then.

    Oo, this is great. I search the room for Uncle, to see what direction this show is headed. Luckily, the target of our appearance is standing by his side. Standing next to Uncle, Matt, and Jac, the two visitors from the Guiness family are easily identified from their golden attire.

    The man has a young face but the way Uncle and the woman beside him give him deference tells me he must be more important than he looks. If that didn¡¯t give it away, his coat would. White birds in midflight run up and down it. Jeez, they look like they can flap off the cloth at any moment. Something like that probably costs more than my father¡¯s manor.

    The girl next to him is pretty enough to put Jac to shame. While the man has the standard blonde hair and light eyes the Guiness family is known for, her hair is brown with stone gray eyes, contrasting against her golden skin. Nevertheless, I¡¯m sure she¡¯s a Guiness too because she stands tall next to the man and is watching our approach with particular interest.

    We stop in front of Uncle and I give him a quick bow. ¡°Uncle. Forgive us, we¡¯re a little late.¡±

    ¡°No matter. Come, let me introduce you. This is Marquis Maxamillius Guiness, the patriarch of the Guiness family. Beside him is Maxine Guiness, his daughter.¡±

    Wow. The head of the Guiness family really did appear. This isn¡¯t a joke. This man could buy everything we own with his pocket change. No, with the lint in his pocket. That kind of money equals power. This is someone who¡¯s word can move a country. I can¡¯t pretend I¡¯m not a little pressured by his appearance.

    Marquis Guiness and his daughter give the neatest bow and curtesy I have ever seen. Makes me feel like I should be slapped for my clumsy attempts at showing respects. ¡°Lady Atainna,¡± Marquis Guiness intones gravely as he straightens up. ¡°Lady Tome. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you both.¡±

    Well, he still mentioned her first but at least he included me. Points for that. From Kierra¡¯s smile, she thinks the same. ¡°Please. Call me Kierra. My country doesn¡¯t have nobility so titles aren¡¯t necessary.¡±

    ¡°Then Miss Kierra it is. I have to admit, I was a bit unbelieving when I heard an elf was in the human kingdom. I never believed it fully until you walked into the room. The rumors of your race¡¯s beauty are greatly understated.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a bit more adventurous than most, I suppose. Besides, I was interested to see the home of my wife.¡±

    With that, his attention turns to me. I stiffen initially but relax as Kierra pulls me against her side, putting her hand against my lower back. Remember, Lou. This is no ordinary man but you¡¯re not exactly normal either and right now, he needs to impress you, not the other way around. The thought fills me with confidence. ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you, Marquis.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about you. Your matrimony is quite remarkable. There hasn¡¯t been a union between an elf and a human in recorded history.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m lucky more than anything. If I hadn¡¯t met her when I ended up in the Enchanted Forest, I wouldn¡¯t be here by now.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Kierra lets go of my arm to throw her arms in a loose grip over my shoulders. ¡°My Lou is too modest. She¡¯s very clever when she¡¯s motivated. She could have survived on her own, which is no small thing in the forest.¡±

    ¡°I know. Many adventurers have attempted to harvest materials from the forest. Very few return and those that do only move along the edge. It¡¯s a very mysterious place.¡±

    ¡°Maybe not so much. Now may be a good time to mention your thing.¡±

    Aw, come on. I knew that but if you point it out like that, it makes me seem incompetent. After shooting her a glare she simply smirks at, I clear my throat. ¡°I¡¯ve drawn a map of the Enchanted Forest, noting several landmarks and a guide listing all of the dangers I encountered. Perhaps it is something you would be interested in?¡±

    I know he¡¯s interested before I finish talking. He¡¯s fully focused on me now but the real giveaway is his daughter. Her eyes are practically shining, though she continues to keep quiet. Not much for her to say with her father here.

    ¡°I would be very interested in this map. Perhaps we can arrange a day for you to visit one of my shops? They can discuss production and cost.¡±

    ¡°At your most convenient time.¡±

    From the corner of my eye, I see Uncle wearing a complicated look. Heh. On the one hand, I¡¯m forming connections to the Guiness family, which he approves of, but that connection has nothing to do with the Tome family, which doesn¡¯t bring him any benefits. Doesn¡¯t know if he¡¯s happy or annoyed.

    The sound of quick footsteps draws my attention. Father is rushing toward us as much as the crowd and decorum will allow. He does not look happy. That can only mean one thing and he confirms it after reaching us. ¡°They¡¯re here.¡±

 Side Story: In-Laws (Special Release!)

    What started as a simple swell of congratulations for the newly announced union quickly ballooned into a loud party that sprawled throughout the nearby trees. It had been quite some time since the last celebration of its scale and the elves were full of energy; dancing, drinking, and brawling happening with startling frequency and only serving to increase the crowd¡¯s fervor. Though, ¡®quite some time¡¯ meant barely a month. There was always a celebration to be had in the Land of Blood and Wine.

    The name was well earned. Being the largest province, their borders encompassed the entrance from the Enchanted Forest and contained a beach that rarely saw visitors from across the sea. The foresters and warriors fought off dangerous manabeasts, their provincial neighbors, aggressive travelers, and often themselves. Not to mention the wyverns.

    Though the lesser cousins of the powerful dragons, they were not easily dismissed. Gigantic, serpentine beasts with long necks, two stout hind legs tipped with talons sharper than any sword, and large, leathery wings that could blot out the sky when stretched to their full length above the canopy. After a failed coup to usurp their betters, they were driven from their homes in the Dragon Isles and found refuge in the great branches of the Sacred Tree at the center of the elven continent.

    Being draconids, they immediately tried to subjugate the elves. They paid for the offense in a mountain of harvested wyvern skin, walls of wyvern talon daggers, and rivers of valuable draconid blood, the devils of the forest throwing themselves at the powerful creatures with a suicidal abandon for daring to usurp their god.

    Since, an uneasy peace had been established between the draconids and the elves but the occasional conflict forced the two sides to remind each other of their strength, the populous Dusk Province bearing the brunt of the duty.

    Their land grew wild and the beasts flourished. Unlike the Morning Provinces, Dawn, Day, and High Noon, they had no true cities or walls. They lived where they fought and died. Because of it, they had a love of life and death, a culture that was raw and uninhibited.

    In that fashion, events that embodied life and death were held in high esteem. A particularly trying hunt. A war campaign. A union. A birth. All brought out the elves in force.

    Morgene sat apart from the noise below, seated upon a branch overlooking the festivities. It wasn¡¯t that the elven general didn¡¯t share their enthusiasm. What mother wouldn¡¯t be happy to see her child happily married? It was the suddenness that made her wary and, something she¡¯d admit only to herself, a bit bitter.

    Despite what she let other believes, she wasn¡¯t an unfeeling, wrathful witch. It had been hardlocking her daughter away, but it had been harder watching her Kii, the fiercest of her children, tiptoe around her whenever the subject of trolls came up. She was at her wits end when she concocted the desperate plan and with each year that dragged on, doubt crept into her mind, laying the foundation for a nauseating guilt.

    She¡¯d wanted to jump for joy when she did her usual scan and found the trolls gone. Morgene hadn¡¯t been as proud of her daughter since Kierra single-handedly took down an elder wyvern, cementing her place as the third strongest in the Dusk Province and became a feared name throughout the continent. She¡¯d wanted to sit her down and talk it out. Ask her what she¡¯d done for twenty long years.

    Maybe apologize for overreacting.

    But all of that was waylaid by the appearance of the human and her daughter¡¯s daring announcement.

    ¡°There you are.¡±

    Morgene looked aside as Marjoram landed on the wide branch of the tree, Javil at her side. The sky-blue elf carried a large barrel on his shoulder. Nodding to her, he sat the barrel down before dropping off the branch, leaving the sisters alone.

    ¡°What are you doing up here by your lonesome?¡± the queen asked, taking a seat. In her hands, she held two clay goblets. She passed one to her sister before filling her own from a spout on the barrel. ¡°I would think you would want to spend time with Kii. She is planning on leaving as soon as the ceremony is finished.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. I doubt she wants to entertain her mother who locked her away for two decades.¡± She failed to contain her bitterness, frowning deeply as she filled her own goblet with wine and quickly downed it.

    Marjoram rolled her eyes at the display. ¡°You always do this. Every time something doesn¡¯t go your way, you go off on a rampage and when it¡¯s time to face the consequences, you disappear to sulk in a corner.¡±

    ¡°I do not.¡±

    ¡°Really? Shall we remember the time when you challenged our mother? You lashed out and nearly killed her.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. And the old witch had the audacity to name me the next queen.¡± Morgene downed the rest of her wine at the memory of her mother¡¯s broken bodied and bloodied face that did nothing to hide her crooked smile.

    ¡°What else did you expect, thrashing her so soundly? Yet instead of accepting the responsibility, you ran off to the Twilight Province for three decades.¡±

    ¡°I dueled her for my freedom. As if I would be shackled by something so bothersome. Besides, you got the queenship out of it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, the bothersome thing you threw away.¡±

    ¡°You want it. Don¡¯t pretend otherwise.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want it that way. I had to duel dozens of challengers who thought they could handle the second-best Atainna daughter.¡±

    ¡°Blame mother for that. She should have given it to you in the first place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still skirting around the issue.¡± Marjoram refilled her own cup, then her sister¡¯s. ¡°The point is that you have a habit of running away from things. You¡¯ve already spent twenty years away from your daughter. Who knows how long she¡¯s going to disappear for this time? Her brother and cousin went galivanting off to Spirit knows where and haven¡¯t sent word in seventy years. Here, just like this.¡±

    Marjoram sat down her cup and jumped to her feet, throwing her arms wide. ¡°Kii~ I missed you my favorite daughter! Please forgive me for being an insensitive boar and locking you away, on your own, for two decades!¡± She looked down at her sister, chuckling at her scowl.

    ¡°You missed your calling to the stage,¡± Morgene hissed. ¡°Besides, I never said she was my favorite.¡±

    The queen raised a single brow, easily communicating her profound disbelief. Her sister simply grunted. It was true. The little green devil had always been her favorite, from the moment she held the babe in her arms. Not even a day old, the Gardener who had overseen the birth tried to check her teeth and her youngest daughter almost gnawed the finger off, getting a taste for blood. She¡¯d raised hell ever since. ¡°Damn brat has caused me nothing but problems.¡±

    ¡°And you love it.¡± Marjoram retook her seat. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m amazed you don¡¯t have a host of hellspawns. Aleesia is an absolute sweety.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who she gets it from.¡± Her second-eldest daughter became Marjoram¡¯s aide once she became queen, her serious demeanor a good fit for the organizational work. Nothing at all like her warmonger of a mother or the lothario who she had spent a four-decade long infatuation with when she was younger.

    ¡°Haha, none of your kids take after you. Your eldest is a dancer of all things!¡±

    Morgene winced. Raising a daughter who wanted to play with the monsters and dance in fields of flowers had been¡­trying.

    ¡°Not to mention the winemaker¡ª¡±

    ¡°Who can¡¯t make a decent drink.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°And the priestess¡ª¡±

    ¡°Head is filled with nothing but tree-hugging nonsense.¡±

    ¡°And even a teacher! Hahaha!¡±

    Morgene could only shake her head. If she didn¡¯t so clearly remember pushing each of them out, she would really wonder if someone hadn¡¯t swapped her children. She¡¯d looked forward to having a large family, seeing a chance to raise a host of the Dusk Province¡¯s most fearsome soldiers.

    Instead, she got the only children in the village who didn¡¯t want to fight. Two weren¡¯t complete disappointments, choosing to become foresters, but she¡¯d hoped for warriors.

    Kierra soothed her shattered expectations. Rather than a warrior, the girl was a demon. No matter the challenge, she ran straight at it. Often, said challenge realized its folly and ran away. Then she hunted it down to its burrow, dug it up, and tore it apart anyway.

    But, it only stood to reason that the daughter who took after her would cause the most problems.

    ¡°I suppose we should blame it on the fathers. After all, Kierra is the daughter of that man. Where is he anyway? I¡¯d have thought he would be the first one to greet her on her return.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s still on Green Mountain.¡± Her husband, the only man she¡¯d married despite her many dalliances, had not taken kindly to the imprisonment of his daughter. They had fought about it, inadvertently adding to the Dusk Province¡¯s coastline. ¡°You should know, you sent him away.¡±

    ¡°I just wanted the idiot to clear his head. He¡¯s the one that decided to go on a journey to get stronger.¡±

    ¡°I think he¡¯s determined to come back and rescue her.¡± It spoke to their ways that a father having to rescue his daughter from her militant mother didn¡¯t so much as raise an eyebrow.

    ¡°Ah ah. How disappointed he¡¯s going to be when he sees a little human girl has done the job for him.¡± Marjoram paused with her goblet almost touching her lips. ¡°Ah¡­that might be a problem.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± Hearing the seriousness in her sister¡¯s tone, Morgene paused, turning to her. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°¡­didn¡¯t he always say he would destroy anyone who tried to wed his daughter?¡±

    ¡°Now that you mention it, I recall him scaring off a fool who tried asking for his blessing.¡±

    ¡°¡­he killed him.¡±

    ¡°Scared him off for good, didn¡¯t it?¡± Morgene chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s why Rondel was never bolder in his affections. For a warrior, that boy is a little too spineless.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see where I¡¯m coming from? Kierra is about to get married. How do you think her father is going to react when he comes back to rescue her and finds out she¡¯s bound herself to a human? And is living on the human continent?¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± The man was a little too attached to his daughter, though she could hardly blame him. Morgene was the only woman strong enough to pin him down, literally, and Kierra was his only child.

    No one expected the ¡®Dusk Berserker¡¯ to be a doting father, not even himself. He spoiled Kierra rotten and loathed being away from her, going as far as to forsake the hunts that made him famous because he couldn¡¯t bear to spend the time away from his ¡®little sprout¡¯.

    How would he react to his treasured daughter being married off and dragged away to another continent? ¡°He¡¯s going to try and kill the human of course,¡± Morgene replied with a shrug of her shoulders, taking a long swig of her drink.

    ¡°You¡¯re awfully calm about this.¡±

    ¡°Kierra challenged me. She¡¯s more than capable of fending off her father.¡±

    ¡°She can but what about her bride? I know you could kill the human before Kii could stop you. What if her father does the same? I¡¯ve barely seen them together but she seems to truly love this girl. What do you think will happen if in his berserk state, he truly kills her love?¡±

    ¡°¡­she¡¯ll do her very best to kill him.¡± Morgene felt a little uncomfortable at the thought. Both were quite sturdy. Kierra received her physical affinity from him. With her pure version, she would always have the advantage of speed, but he had experience and tenacity on his side. Morgene once witnessed him reattach his nearly decapitated head and stand up for more. ¡°I doubt either will be able to kill the other.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not concerned about that.¡± Marjoram waved her goblet. ¡°Think about the aftermath of the fight. Your fight with mother destroyed half the village and you have the null affinity.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± With barely a thought, Marjoram circulated her mana. She felt the space around her vibrate. The null affinity, affinity for that which cannot be seen or touched. Something undefinable. Because the concepts of the affinity were so vague, many believed its depths had yet to be fully explored. Rather than explore its full capabilities, Morgene had decided to master an extensively documented aspect of it. The manipulation of space.

    Her fighting style focused on suppressing her enemies rather than rampant destruction, but the sheer amount of power behind her spells could decimate the environment if she wasn¡¯t careful. For the two monsters that could uproot the massive trees on the elven continent and swing them around like clubs?

    The damage would be catastrophic.

    ¡°Two elves rampaging in the human continent. I¡¯m sure whatever human authorities are nearby will attempt to stop them. And will be promptly slaughtered.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± In the midst of battle, the two berserkers would hardly be in the frame of mind to be diplomatic.

    ¡°They¡¯ll keep sending warriors until someone important gets killed. At that point, might someone take it as a declaration of war?¡±

    ¡°Ah. I see your point.¡± The scenario sounded outlandish but Morgene could easily imagine it. To the point she felt a stir of excitement.

    ¡°War is not a good thing,¡± Marjoram sighed.

    ¡°Hmph. Not like there¡¯s anything else to do. One can only slay so many wyverns before it gets tiring.¡±

    ¡°Then go fight a dragon! Ah, why is it my own family that always causes me so many problems?¡± Marjoram threw her cup away in annoyance, grabbing the barrel outright. A precise manipulation of wind cut a hole in the top and she lifted it to her lips, throat distending with her loud gulps.

    Morgene scowled at her half-empty cup but wouldn¡¯t dare try to wrestle the barrel away. As much as her younger sister pretended to be a monument of reason amongst savages, she was an Atainna through and through. The last thing she needed was another matriarch foisting queenship on her after a duel.

    Marjoram finished the barrel and dropped it carelessly. Javil, waiting patiently at the base of the tree, caught it before retaking his seat.

    ¡°Now, listen to me!¡± The queen pointed an unsteady finger at the general. ¡°Control your man! I am not sucking up to a bunch of humans because of your family issues.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you do it yourself? Besides, he¡¯s across the sea. How would he know?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Just make sure he doesn¡¯t!¡± She shook her head. ¡°There hasn¡¯t been a war for five hundred years and I¡¯ll be damned if we¡¯re the ones to start it.¡±

    Annoyed, Morgene waved a hand. The queen yelped as she suddenly found herself halfway to the ground, falling fast. A strong burst of wind scattered dead leaves and flower petals as Marjoram launched herself back into the air. She grabbed the branch, nails digging into the bark, and glared up at her sister. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Pardon me, Your Majesty.¡± She waved her goblet. ¡°My control slips under the influence.¡±

    A howling wind strong enough to lift her off her feet blasted toward Morgene. A completely ineffectual wind as she¡¯d locked the space around her. Not budging an inch, she raised an eyebrow at her sister. ¡°Done?¡±

    ¡°If I have to stomp out the sparks of a war, no. I mean it, Morgie.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that. Ugh. Fine. If my dedia comes back, I¡¯ll keep him from storming the human continent. Satisfied?¡±

    ¡°And what if he goes straight there?¡±

    ¡°Remember, he doesn¡¯t know she¡¯s been released. Of course, he¡¯ll come here first.¡± Morgene finished the rest of her wine. ¡°Stop worrying. I¡¯m going to talk to my daughter.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be crass.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who told me to!¡±

    ¡°I wanted to snap you out of your mood but I didn¡¯t mean you should do it now. It¡¯s the day before her union, she¡¯s bound to be preoccupied.¡±

    Morgene paused. Then she scowled. A quick spell and the branch separated from the tree, Marjoram cursing as she dropped once again. ¡°Get another barrel to replace the one you hogged!¡± Morgene shouted, lying sideways as she lounged on an invisible platform of solidified space. With a flick of her fingers, a small leather bag appeared in her hand.

    Reaching inside, she pulled out a small journal and pen, pursuing her lips as she ruminated on the proper words for her ¡®love letter¡¯.

    What did her sister think she would do after putting such an interesting idea in her mind? It was perfectly normal for a wife to write to her estranged spouse in hopes of reconciliation. She¡¯d keep her word, not mentioning a word of their daughter¡¯s union and try to stop from leaving once he found out.

    However, who knew what tricks he¡¯d learned fighting creatures around the world for two decades? Who could blame her if he managed to slip past her control and provoked a human king into writing a war declaration?

    Somethings were just in the hands of fate.

    How she had longed for the days of the Great War, when legendary dragon fire boiled the seas and goblin hordes marched by the millions. She doubted the humans could muster such a challenge, if her daughter¡¯s intended was anything to judge by, but it was better than spending another decade posturing with generals from the other provinces from the safety of their territories.

    Besides, marching an army through the Enchanted Forest would give her a good excuse to check up on her daughter. Kierra could split mountains if she didn¡¯t hold back but a mother would always worry.

    <hr>

    FUN FACTS/ Q:A

    Q: I''ve noticed the author sometimes writes Kierra''s family name as D''Atainna and just Atainna at certain times. Am I missing something?

    A: You are, dear reader! Kierra''s family name is Atainna. The D is tacked on to symbolize they are the current ruling family. D is for Dusk Province. So, when speaking <u>of</u> her family, she uses Atainna, but when <u>referring to</u> herself or a member of her family, she uses D''Atainna.

    Q: Eh? Does every elf have a harem? Or just these crazy Atainna women?

    A: Harem''s a little strong there. For example, Morgene doesn''t have a harem. She was simply ''friendly'' with a lot of people before getting hitched. Not to mention their relationships are a little looser, a product of both their culture and their long lives. But yes, polyamory is alive and rampant on the elven continent.

    Q: ELF SISTERS!? WHERE? WHEN!?

    A: Kierra has eight siblings. Four of them are sisters. All of them are older. Will you see them? Maybe...maybe not...who are we kidding? Of course they''ll make an appearance! At least one or two. That''s later though. Lou and Kierra''s adventures are just getting started so make sure to stick around!

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 9

    Moments later, a hush comes over the crowd. The small sea of people parts as two men come walking towards us. They¡¯re both tall, with distinctive red hair cut close to their heads, bright eyes, and exaggerated, prominent features that always makes me think of apes. The Grimoires.

    But there¡¯s also an unknown figure. A beautiful woman with fair skin tinted red and violet hair with matching violet eyes. Very little of her curvy figure is covered by the tight leathers she wears. A thin red tail that ends in the shape of a spade idly whips behind her as she walks. My eyes can¡¯t help but follow her as she approaches, even as I tell them to look away.

    Damn. The Grimoires have a new thrall.

    They stop in front of us. I¡¯ve only seen him a few times but I know that face. Gordon Grimoire, the head of the Grimoire family and the king¡¯s advisor. Another man who¡¯s words can move the country. He¡¯s the same age as Father but unlike him, he exudes power, from the confidence in his eyes to his bulging muscles. The man is a walking mountain.

    When his eyes meet Marquis Guiness'', he gives a quick bow. ¡°Marquis, I heard rumors you would be appearing. I¡¯m a bit surprised such a small event could grab your attention.¡±

    ¡°¡­the size of an event does not speak to the company of its participants.¡±

    His eyes move to Kierra. Unlike everyone else, he is not surprised or awed by her. If anything, his gaze holds disdain. ¡°Elven royalty graces us with her presence. You¡¯re quite far from your home, princess. I¡¯m surprised the king would allow his family to travel. These are dangerous times.¡±

    I reach up to grab one of Kierra¡¯s arm. Everything about him says he¡¯s looking for a fight. My wife is never afraid of a fight but this isn¡¯t the place for it. Let¡¯s see him try this when there isn¡¯t an audience around.

    She gets my message and doesn¡¯t move but her voice is laced with poison. ¡°I am. My aunt, the queen, expressed her concern but I reassured her that most humans are a lot of bark with very little bite.¡±

    His lips twitch. ¡°Indeed. It¡¯s rather shameful. This generation is disappointing, absolutely no talent to speak of.¡± He looks directly at me when he says that. Bastard. ¡°Unlike my son.¡±

    He waves his hand and the young man beside him steps forward. He¡¯s a slightly shorter copy of the Grimoire patriarch, but far less intimidating. His face is rounder and his sneer more prominent, instantly invoking memories of my childhood.

    ¡°This is my son, Gordon Grimoire II, and his contracted thrall, Fen.¡±

    ¡°Junior,¡± I growl.

    His sneer turns nastier hearing his hated nickname. ¡°Lou. It¡¯s been too long.¡±

    Not long enough.

    Marquis Guiness makes a thoughtful noise. ¡°I¡¯d heard of your accomplishment. Twenty-two is very young to make a successful contract with a circle three succubus. A rare talent indeed.¡±

    Junior practically preens at the compliment. So what if he acknowledges you a little? Doesn¡¯t change the fact that the only reason he¡¯s here is for us.

    Despite that, the Tomes are incensed having the summoning thrown in their face. And I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t bothered. Fen is truly beautiful. My wife¡¯s beauty is a combination of her looks and her aura, an energy about her that makes my skin tingle. Something like a predator watching me while hidden in tall grass.

    Succubi are different. Those at her level can change their shapes. Her beauty is literally perfection. There¡¯s not a single flaw anywhere. She smiles at me and my heart speeds up. I can¡¯t help myself.

    Her eyes are focused on me. Beckoning me to come closer. The more I look at them, the more I think there¡¯s something else in their depths. I can almost make it out¡ª

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    ¡°Whoa.¡±

    I¡¯m suddenly halted by Kierra¡¯s tightening arms. I blink. When did I move so close to Fen? My arm is even outstretched, like I want to snatch her up.

    Face burning with embarrassment, I drop my hand and quickly step back, leaning against Kierra as I look away. That bastard had her spell me! He wants to embarrass us in front of the Guiness. Or maybe it¡¯s a display of power to remind us of our place.

    Either way, I¡¯m going take off one of his balls for it. Messing around with someone¡¯s mind for the fun of it is low, beyond low.

    Junior¡¯s smirk only stokes my anger, but I choke it down. He wants to see me act out. ¡°How greedy, Lou. Fen is beautiful but I¡¯d think you¡¯d at least be able to show some restraint in front of your wife.¡±

    I open my mouth to respond but I¡¯m stopped by Kierra, who chuckles loudly. ¡°Haha. That¡¯s the best thing about my Lou. So passionate.¡±

    Then she gives me a look that could melt butter. My mood is instantly improved while Junior scowls. Was that an attempt to undermine my relationship? Weak. She knows what they can do, idiot. Suppose he thought that since she¡¯s from another continent, she wouldn¡¯t know about succubi and would just attribute it to my own lust.

    Just to show how much she isn¡¯t bothered, she turns my head and pulls me into a kiss. I hear a gasp somewhere behind me but she¡¯s occupying the majority of my senses so I can¡¯t tell where it comes from.

    When she pulls away, I¡¯m a little breathless and I can¡¯t look anyone in the eye but my anger has been obliterated. I can hear her smirk in her hum as she puts her chin on my head. She stares down Junior, likely come to my same conclusions. I can¡¯t see it but he takes a step back. ¡°I think your elemental may be a bit of a mixed blessing, Junior. I can¡¯t imagine any woman managing to arouse much interest from you.¡±

    ¡°The Grimoire men make it a point not to sleep with their summons. It degrades discipline.¡± Gordon says that with a straight face. I almost believe him. Junior, not in the slightest. He tries to look just as dignified but his eyes are shifty. ¡°If we fell to that temptation, they would be the masters, not us. Summoning must not be a widespread art in your home.¡±

    ¡°No. We choose to cultivate our own strength. It¡¯s necessary. When careless people offend others, it isn¡¯t rare for them to face fatal consequences.¡±

    Gordon Sr.¡¯s expression finally changes noticeably, his brows coming down. I know what he¡¯s thinking. He must be wondering if that was a threat. It definitely was but he can¡¯t believe it because who would dare threaten the man who has the king¡¯s ear?

    I¡¯m grinning as they keep insulting each other under a veil of civility. But a force keeps trying to draw my attention away. I¡¯m resisting but it¡¯s always there, a seductive whisper. It¡¯s like Fen is standing at my shoulder. I know she¡¯s not but I feel that if I turn around to check, she¡¯ll have me and I¡¯ll really embarrass myself.

    When someone grabs my arm, I jump, thinking she¡¯s made her move. Instead, it¡¯s Jac. ¡°Why don¡¯t we grab some drinks for everyone?¡±

    ¡°¡­good idea.¡±

    I let her pull me away. Once we reach the drink table, the pressure on my mind disappears and I let out a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Bastard,¡± Jac growls. ¡°What?¡± she snaps when I raise a brow.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d get angry over me. In fact, I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re not trying to buddy up with them. Talk about people with influence.¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°What do you take me for? They¡¯re Grimoires. I¡¯d rather kiss ass to a shitting mule than them. And we all know what Junior¡¯s trying to do. That thrall is in your head, isn¡¯t she?¡±

    It takes me a minute to stop laughing after her remarks. ¡°Oh, yeah. She¡¯s in there.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s pretty brave of him. A mental caster can tell if someone¡¯s mind has been influenced. If we were anywhere but the capital, there¡¯d be a problem but there¡¯s always one Interrogator stationed in the palace.¡±

    ¡°Unless it¡¯s nothing but a poke.¡± Not that I want to admit that. A poke is only stoking the thoughts that are already there. Because it¡¯s the subject¡¯s own will, there¡¯s no, or very little, sign of influence. That means I¡¯m already attracted to Fen though. Sigh. Really, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s my fault. You¡¯d need to be dead to not to be attracted to her.

    Jac gives me a sideways look. ¡°How shameless.¡±

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not my fault I¡¯m not blind. Did you see the pair on her?¡± I emphasize my words with my hands. ¡°Saints witness, they look like they¡¯re going to spill out of that thing some people might call a shirt.¡± No point in denying how I feel now that I¡¯ve been exposed. If I embrace it, then it won¡¯t be so damn hard to resist.

    ¡°Pervert. Come on. Grab a couple of drinks, put on your best smile, and stick close to the marquis. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s realized what¡¯s happening as well. Proximity will make it harder for them and as long as you make it through another half hour or so, you can make a graceful exit. The map was a good idea. Kierra?¡±

    ¡°No, that was actually me. She doesn¡¯t need to worry about money.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Maybe you aren¡¯t as dumb as you look.¡±

    ¡°Gee, thank you.¡± I grab four drinks and take a deep breath as I follow her back to the group. Almost immediately, I feel the pressure of Fen probing my mind. A shiver goes down my spine but I keep my smile in place as I come to stand next to Kierra. Half an hour. I can last that long without tackling the thrall who is quickly taking up all my thoughts. No problem.

    Sigh. Saints give me patience.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 10

    Hours later, the party is over and I¡¯m lying with my wife in a comfortable bed. This should be the best place in the world but I can¡¯t fall asleep.

    Why? Because I can still feel that saints damned thrall in my head! There¡¯s almost a physical force trying to pull me from the sheets and toward her. My muscles have been tense for so long resisting that it¡¯s starting to hurt.

    ¡°Poor, Lou.¡± Kierra¡¯s arm goes around my waist as she leans over my shoulder to whisper in my ear. ¡°Is the little mind stealer bullying you?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t get her out of my head,¡± I hiss through grit teeth. ¡°That damn bandit. He knows. They say if you give in just once, the Grimoires will have you for life. They¡¯re addictive.¡± Who cares if the Guiness want to deal with me if they can control my every action? Even worse, they might be thinking they can get access to Kierra through me.

    ¡°What¡¯s she¡¯s saying?¡±

    Is it really alright to be talking about this? Well, she¡¯s my wife. Who else would I talk to? ¡°She wants me to come to her. And she¡¯s promising¡­pleasure.¡± My biggest weak point. I¡¯m a hedonist, something she knows well.

    ¡°Is that all?¡± She pulls me down and crawls on top of me. ¡°Hoh. A woman not even in the same room thinks she can steal your attentions from me. She¡¯s quite confident.¡±

    Is that the normal response to this situation? I don¡¯t know. Either way, she¡¯s amazing. With her intense gaze seemingly piercing my soul, the whispers fade out a little. For a minute. Then, sensing her hold weaken, a barrage of mental power hits me with enough force to make me wince. The whispers become a voice.

    Come to me.

    You¡¯re not even trying to be subtle anymore, dammit!

    ¡°No.¡± A tight grip on my chin forces me to meet Kierra¡¯s eyes again. ¡°Nuh uh, little demon. You¡¯ll have to do better than that if you want to intrude in my territory.¡±

    She¡¯s not talking to me but the threat in her words makes things in my stomach flutter. The voice once again returns to a whisper. Wait. I¡¯m remembering. Once, when Father was complaining about the Grimoires, he warned me about the mental affinity.

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    Mental spells are infamously difficult to cast, as the mind is so intricate. Our natural defenses can defend against even strong casters without any training as, technically, willpower counts as mental power.

    I¡¯ll be the first one to admit my willpower isn¡¯t that good, but once again, it seems I can get motivated when my wife is involved. When she leans down to kiss me, I can barely hear the whispers. My eyes slip shut as her tongue dominates my mouth. With the grip on my chin and her body pressing against me, there¡¯s nothing I can do besides struggle for air. Ah, what a glorious feeling.

    When she finally gives me a break, my eyes flutter open. Then I hiss, leaning back into the bed as I see Fen above me. It only lasts for a moment before Kierra¡¯s questioning face appears, but my heart stops from the shock before resuming a pounding rhythm.

    ¡°They¡¯re watching us,¡± I groan. You bastard, this is just taking it too far. There¡¯re lines decent people don¡¯t cross. I guess he¡¯s already crossed a few of those but this is a whole new low, even for a Grimoire. ¡°That fucker has her watching us. He probably knows everything that happens, peeping piece of shit.¡± The voice is coming back and starting to gain strength.

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°Hu¡ªmmph!¡± I¡¯m cut off by her lips. ¡°But¡­wait¡­Kii...¡±

    She pulls back with a wicked grin. ¡°Let the little man get the details from his pet. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time I¡¯ve worked with an audience in the room.¡±

    My eyes widen as she chuckles. This woman. Does she have any decency at all?

    Apparently not, as she flips me onto stomach. Tearing sounds echo through the room as she literally rips my nightgown off of me. A hand on my waist urges my hips into the air and her other pushes my head into the mattress. Now my heart is hammering for a different reason. I get a strange thrill when her gown brushes against my skin, knowing I¡¯m totally exposed to her. But saints dammit, knowing that bastard is watching me is ruining it!

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill him,¡± I growl, my voice muffled. Thinking about him lying in bed, likely having his thrall jerk him off while he laughs about what she tells him about my sex life fills me with a hot anger that drowns out Fen¡¯s whispers. ¡°I don¡¯t care about heirs and succession. I¡¯m going to murder him and put his head on a pike. I¡¯m going to contract a dozen flesh worms and make his father watch as they devour his body. I¡¯m¡­haaah, gonna¡ªoh!¡±

    My voice is broken by moans as her fingers push into me. Kierra runs her tongue along my spine, before nipping at the back of my neck. I jump and her opposite hand pulls me back against her. ¡°I wonder if the little demon can last the whole night. Because I can. When the sun comes up, you¡¯ll have forgotten allllll about her.¡±

    Her laughter makes my hands twist in the sheets with a mixture of dread and excitement.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 11

    Kierra thankfully let me sleep before the sun came up. She was satisfied when I not only forgot about Fen but could hardly remember my own name. It¡¯s still late when I wake up. The fifth bell tolls as I slowly open my eyes.

    My wife is still in bed, leaning against the headboard with a book in her hand. A large platter of cold cuts, cheese, and bowls of fruit sits atop her legs and she absently chews on the food. She¡¯s bare to the world and unconcerned, the sheets only covering her from the waist down. I bet that maid got another eyeful.

    I stretch and she looks down at me. Rather than a good morning, her fingertips glowing with a soft green light touch my cheek. Warmth runs through my body, relaxing my sore muscles and filling me with energy. Even the scratches on my back close, the aches disappearing in seconds.

    ¡°Mm. That¡¯s as awesome as ever¡­¡± What I don¡¯t want to say is that she could have let it be for a while. I was still basking. I¡¯ve definitely spent too long with her. ¡°Morning, by the way.¡±

    ¡°More like afternoon.¡± She grabs a strawberry and feeds it to me. ¡°The others have been up for quite a while and are asking for you.¡±

    ¡°And what you¡¯d tell them?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. I imagine the maid invented some kind of story. I think the young woman¡¯s developed an interest in me, if her face was anything to go by.¡±

    I¡¯m not surprised. Anyone would. The question now is, can I use that to our advantage? I have a good idea about everyone¡¯s motives but having an extra set of eyes and ears in the manor can¡¯t be a bad thing. Too bad I don¡¯t know her name. It¡¯d be weird if I started sniffing around the servants¡¯ areas looking for her, so it¡¯ll have to wait until tomorrow.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the book? Didn¡¯t take you for a scholar.¡±

    ¡°I very much am not. However, with so many human nobles taking an interest in my country, I thought it best I do a little investigation into yours.¡±

    I glance at the spine. That¡¯s an ancient history book and those only cover one topic. ¡°So? How different is our account from yours?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. It¡¯s hard for me to say. Our account is patched together from accounts from different races. The only part I can really speak on is the human invasion of elven lands while chasing down the goblinoid army that had invaded them. We weren¡¯t involved in the war until they set fire to the Enchanted Forest to force the goblins out.¡±

    She closes the book and sets it on the table beside the bed. ¡°Funny. There¡¯s absolutely no mention of the catastrophic wildfire that almost devoured our home. It was a magical flame that took months to beat. Thousands of elves died in the process. Yet all your book talks about is the glory and perseverance of the Harvest family and the great nobles that settled the continent.¡±

    I can¡¯t blame her for her scoff of disgust. I¡¯d be annoyed to if someone just glossed over one of the biggest tragedies in my history. I reach over and grab one of the cold cuts. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised. Nobles only care about benefit. Having their reckless tactics known won¡¯t bring them any benefit.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Well? What do you want to do today? There is another party scheduled and you know they will be there.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know. In fact, I¡¯m counting on it.¡± Remembering Gordon causes my anger to flare up and I jump out of the bed. ¡°I was serious last night. He¡¯s crossed the line. Gordon is going to get what¡¯s coming to him, him and that entire family.¡±

    ¡°And do you have a plan for their destruction?¡±

    The Tomes have been warring with the Grimoires for years. That question has been asked and debated over drinks dozens of times. In the end, no matter how we hurt them or what we reduce them to, one thing has to be taken care of first. ¡°I¡¯m going to best him in summoning.¡±

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    It¡¯s the greatest dream of the Tomes. To contract something amazing enough to put the succubi to shame and prove we¡¯re the better summoners. It¡¯s never happened before simply because we don¡¯t have an affinity or the resources to entice something like that but it¡¯s different now. I¡¯m different. After my rebirth, my capacity was increased. By how much, I¡¯m not sure, but it gives me hope that I might be able to do it.

    ¡°Which is why I need to go out today. Want to come with?¡±

    ¡°Jac isn¡¯t going to be happy with you leaving so suddenly,¡± she says as she moves the tray away and stands up. ¡°My wife really likes to cause trouble.¡±

    I laugh. ¡°Trust me. You haven¡¯t seen anything yet.¡±

    -

    The streets are busy. Our cloaked figures go unnoticed in the bustle as we head toward the Affinity Market. Most major cities have one, a market dedicated to goods and services for casters.

    The law of the kingdom is equal but the citizens are not. People are divided into nobles and commoners, landowners and the people who work the land.

    Summer Spire, the great capital of the Harvest Kingdom, is a city that spans for miles, divided by ¡®rings¡¯ of stone towering into the sky. From the basic life in the Outer Ring to the magic-fueled extravagance of the Noble Ring, the difference between those with a title and those without is stark. Not to mention the poor sobs who can¡¯t make a good living inside the city and have settled in ¡°slums¡± close to the Outer Wall.

    Then there¡¯s a second division between the casters and regular people.

    This one isn¡¯t as obvious, as wealth is the great equalizer. But no matter your status, if you are strong, you will be treated better. More importantly, you will look down on those weaker and not want to be associated with them. For majority of people.

    Though I have some talent, I never wanted to be a caster so I never looked down on the common people who lived the life I desired most. That¡¯s not the case for most casters, which is why they get a lot of preferential treatment.

    The Affinity Market is in the Middle Ring, one occupied by wealthy merchants and sponsored artisans, making it a chore for the poor and unconnected to reach. Very close to the Noble Ring, both for the convenience of the upper echelons and to dissuade them from causing trouble, as the Royal Knights could reach the market in minutes.

    The streets surrounding the two blocks of the Market are well paved and cobbled, made wider to avoid congestion. The city garrison is present in force, with knights donated from the noble houses, a force that can¡¯t be compared to the simple city garrison. Men who can handle an angry caster with tact and know to keep out the rabble.

    People dressed in fine garbs hustle between the stores. Those with casters as clients aren¡¯t poor enough to need stalls and many casters wouldn¡¯t bother approaching one, thinking the goods are inferior.

    Kierra is looking at the rare glass windows that are used with abundance here with interest. ¡°I can understand the weapons and the books but what are all these other trinkets?¡±

    ¡°Artifacts,¡± I say distractedly as I scan the signs. ¡°A high-level caster writes out a spell. Then an engraver puts it on a piece of jewelry. Then a lower-level caster of a matching affinity simply puts a bit of power into the artifact and pow, instantly can use a spell way above their level or are too slow to solve for combat. The thing that makes them so valuable is that they can be used by anyone with the matching affinity so even if you have no training, you can still use¡ªoh, wait. There it is!¡±

    I grab her arm excitedly and pull her toward a large building at the end of the street. Its size is why I was confident about coming here without a guide. Even though I¡¯ve only been to the Summer Spire Affinity Aarket once before this, very few buildings in the market are built like a warehouse with an arch for a doorway.

    A sign on the front of the building has the symbol of magic, a white circle representing the four elemental affinities with a golden star on top of it to represent the five greater affinities.

    ¡°This is a spell hall. Poor and unsponsored casters who don¡¯t have their own land come to places like these to test the strength of their spells. It¡¯s also incredibly important for newbies as they have special rooms for measuring mana coefficients,¡± I explain as I pull her through the front door and up to the front desk. It¡¯s time to see just how much I¡¯ve grown.

    The man behind the desk is unremarkable, made more so by his bored expression. His eyes gain a bit of interest when he notices our cloaked figures. ¡°Can I help you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like access to a testing room.¡±

    ¡°Ah. That¡¯ll be five silvers.¡±

    Cheh. Stingy bastards. Five silvers for me to use a room for a few hours without them doing anything. Regardless, I hand over the money. The man sweeps it off the counter and hands me a key. ¡°Second floor, room 3.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 12

    We move to the back of the large welcoming area. There are two halls branching off it and a wide spiraling staircase. We take it up and step into a plain looking hall with four doors.

    I unlock door number 3 and lock it after she follows me in. The inside is dimly lit by softly glowing crystals stuck in the upper corners. There¡¯s no furniture as the floor is dominated by a written spell. It¡¯s in the shape of a circle, compromised of hundreds of symbols and calculations. Nine stones are arranged around it, embedded into the floor.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen something like this before.¡± Kierra removes her hood and kneels in front of the spell. ¡°Not exactly like this but¡­these symbols¡­¡± Her brows are furrowed as she examines it. Then she chuckles. ¡°I see. This is very similar to our spell for measuring children.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not surprising. There may be dozens of races and different notations but mana speaks one language.¡± I shrug off my cloak and toss it carelessly into a corner. ¡°Right. Best to get this over with.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Kierra stands up. ¡°If it is the same, you shouldn¡¯t need much from me.¡±

    ¡°Nope. Unless something goes terribly wrong.¡± Please don¡¯t let it go wrong. I¡¯ve never heard of someone injuring themselves during a test but I¡¯ve also never heard of anyone becoming half-elemental. ¡°Here we go. The first step toward my new destiny.¡±

    ¡°Good luck.¡±

    I know that was sarcastic but her smile is genuine. I take some comfort in that as I sink to my knees and place my hands on the edge of the spell.

    Taking a deep breath to settle my beating heart, I call on my mana. Like usual, a heat rises from my navel and hits my heart before spreading out. I direct the flow into my hands and out into the spell. It soaks it up greedily, the symbols beginning to glow. A blue line appears over me, a second one quickly being drawn.

    Each of those lines represents a coefficient of 5 and they¡¯re rapidly appearing. Doesn¡¯t take long before the twenty of them appear. Before I was sent to the Grand Hall, my coefficient was measured at 35. Now I have proof of my growth.

    ¡°Ugh.¡± Though I¡¯m not in a mood to celebrate. After channeling so much mana, it¡¯s starting to get painful. I feel a tight pain in my chest as I continue to force the power out and it¡¯s not feeling any better. But this will only be successful if I push out every last drop.

    When I was a kid, Father paid for an examiner who is specially trained in mana manipulation. Any caster can learn it but it takes talent to manipulate someone else¡¯s mana with your own. It was even more torturous than now but I needed the help. I¡¯m not one to intentionally suffer.

    This is different. I have a goal and plenty of motivation. I close my eyes and grit my teeth as the world starts to spin. The flow of mana from my hands slows down but it never stops.

    Sweat beads down my brow as the ache in my chest grows in intensity and spreads outward. My arms shake as an uncomfortable tingle goes through the muscles. Not yet. This isn¡¯t my limit.

    And Kierra is behind me. It¡¯s clear who the ¡®man¡¯ in our relationship is, at least most times, but I¡¯d rather not look pathetic. I do have some pride.

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    After what feels like days, I push the last of my mana into the spell and collapse on top of it. Everything hurts, even the ragged breaths I take. Strong hands lift me up and lean me back. I groan pitifully and Kierra shushes me. ¡°Easy, dedia. My special love. Though even I couldn¡¯t have guessed how special you are.¡±

    I slowly open my eyes but immediately shut them against the weak light. Ugh. The effects of mana strain are nothing to joke about. If those were normal lights, I might have been blinded.

    I don¡¯t know how long I lean against Kierra while she strokes my hair, her magic doing its best to help me. It¡¯s relaxing but can¡¯t do anything about my strained mana channels, the source of my pain.

    When the pounding in my head lessens a little and I don¡¯t feel like I¡¯m going to hurl if I move, I try to get to my feet. Kierra sees and helps me stand, supporting me with her arms around my waist. I open my eyes for the second time.

    This time, I keep them open. Hovering about the formation are 33 translucent blue lines, the last one not quite as long as the rest. That would put my coefficient at 164, more than double what it was. It¡¯s amazing but I already expected as much in the Enchanted Forest.

    The surprising part is the stones. Each one can absorb mana of a specific affinity and fluoresces. They¡¯re used to divine affinities.

    Rubies for fire, sapphires for water, emeralds for earth, alabaster for air, blue moonstones for mental, five-banded agate for physical, dragon isle glass for light, obsidian for null, and thousand-year diamonds for celestial.

    The last time I was here, the ruby gave off a weak light, showing my fire affinity.

    Now, seven of the nine stones are glowing. The exceptions are the obsidian shard and fist-sized diamond. I¡¯m not disappointed. That still means the other seven are glowing, and not faintly. I have seven affinities. This goes beyond legendary. I can¡¯t find the words, let alone a single sound to express myself. My lips move uselessly as I stare at the stones.

    ¡°Seven affinities,¡± Kierra whispers in my ear. There¡¯s something in her voice that wasn¡¯t there before but I don¡¯t know what it is. ¡°The Great Spirit that saved the elves is believed to have five and it is an existence we consider a god.¡±

    Ha! A god? Cosmo gave me a part of himself and I gained six affinities. On top of that, I know he has the celestial affinity because that¡¯s what Crowley used in his summoning. What are the chances he also has the null affinity? I think pretty good.

    A being that has every affinity. I can¡¯t wrap my head around that. And that¡­deity remade me with parts of himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m a god,¡± I breathe out. The words are ridiculous and blasphemous. Belief in gods is outdated. With the widespread knowledge of summoning, it¡¯s commonly believed those people our ancestors worshipped were just visiting elementals. Belief in the saints is far more accepted.

    But what else can I call an existence like Cosmo? He is truly above all the races. That can only be called a god. ¡°I¡¯m the daughter of a god,¡± I say with a bit more strength. I turn my head to look at a wildly grinning Kierra. ¡°Lucky devil. You married into divinity.¡±

    ¡°Infant divinity. I can still take you.¡±

    I nod seriously. ¡°Of course. My potential has been¡­drastically increased but I¡¯m still inexperienced. But when I learn how to cast¡­¡± A seven-affinity caster. The world isn¡¯t ready. ¡°Saints shield me, if anyone discovers what I can do before I¡¯m ready, we¡¯re so screwed.¡±

    Forget a threat to the nation, I¡¯m a threat to the world. People with multiple affinities can cast blended spells. They¡¯re stronger, nastier, and almost impossible for a single affinity caster to defend against. No one would be able to stop me.

    ¡°Not only that.¡± Kierra pulls me tighter against her. ¡°I think that being that saved you¡­as powerful as it is, it might have more than these seven affinities. And since you are part of it, then with time, you might also gain the null and celestial affinity.¡±

    Her words stupefy me. This crazy woman. I¡¯m already something beyond human understanding and now she¡¯s saying I might become even more unreasonable with time? The craziest part is it might actually come true.

    I laugh. It bubbles up suddenly and is uncontrollable once it starts. Pretty soon, Kierra is laughing with me. Our voices echo in the small room for several minutes as the lights from the spell slowly start to dim.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 13

    We don¡¯t leave the room until the spell loses all its power. After all, it wouldn¡¯t be good if the worker sent in after us to make sure we didn¡¯t damage anything sees something they shouldn¡¯t.

    The streets are even busier as we leave. Kierra puts her arms over my shoulders and leans into me. She did this a lot in the forest. She¡¯s lean and trim but dammit if she isn¡¯t heavy. These days, I can feel the burden but I don¡¯t feel like collapsing. Proof her relentless training has made me stronger.

    The both of us are in a good mood. I know from the way she hums as we walk. On the other hand, I¡¯m filled with energy. I haven¡¯t been this excited for the future in¡­my entire life actually.

    ¡°This changes everything,¡± I tell her. My hands are reflexively forming fists. I can¡¯t help it. I have to do something about this anticipation that¡¯s almost choking me. If Kierra wasn¡¯t holding onto me, I¡¯d be skipping through the streets.

    ¡°I imagine you can summon something pretty incredible now.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no no. I¡¯m not just going to summon something incredible. I¡¯m going to summon the one thing that can not only beat a thrall but can also bring down the entire Grimoire family in one stroke.¡±

    If Cosmo hadn¡¯t saved me, my entire life wouldn¡¯t be long enough to attempt what I¡¯m going to. Now? I¡¯m a daughter of a god. The least I can do is destroy everyone¡¯s expectations and assumptions regarding summoning.

    ¡°After tonight, I¡¯m going to be holed up with my research. I might miss a couple of parties they have planned but they won¡¯t care as long as you¡¯re there. My plans are going to need some serious revision.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure they give you space.¡± She chuckles. ¡°How exciting. I¡¯m very much looking forward to what you¡¯re going to accomplish, dedia.¡±

    ¡°You and me both, my heart.¡±

    When we get out of the market, the streets are clearer so we pick up our pace. The sun is just starting to go down when we arrive back at the Tome manor. Servants take our cloaks as we head to the library.

    Jac catches us before we make it there. She looks like she wants to yell at me but with Kierra by my side, she has to restrain herself. Hehe. ¡°Lou, great. I was afraid your errand would take too long and you¡¯d miss the party.¡±

    She gives me an accusing look that I brush off. ¡°After all the fun I had last time? Wouldn¡¯t dream of it.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t be like yesterday. It¡¯s happening earlier and more of our generation are invited. Father plans to make himself scarce so I can interact with a few suitors he¡¯s chosen.¡± A glimpse of her annoyance slips through her pleasant mask. ¡°Not something a happily married woman like you would be interested in but your company would be appreciated.¡±

    ¡°Will he be there?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± We don¡¯t have to mention who. I can only be talking about Junior and knowing he¡¯ll show up brings a malicious smile to my lips.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t miss it.¡± I turn to Kierra. ¡°You¡¯re going to be the center of attention again amidst a group with a lot less control of themselves and not enough brains to be intimidated by the Guiness status.¡± There¡¯s no way the marquis doesn¡¯t send someone to this party when he¡¯s attempting to get closer to us.

    ¡°I want to stay close to you.¡± Her hand comes up to caress the back of my neck. It brings back memories of the night before and I suck in a sharp breath. She¡¯s been giving me a look ever since we left the testing room. I guess my new affinities make me more attractive, hmm? Especially to my battle-deviant of a wife.

    ¡°Great.¡± Jac¡¯s smile is tight as she watches us eyeing each other. ¡°It starts in an hour so if you want to show up, you might want to start getting ready.¡± Then she quickly moves down the hall.

    ¡°You heard the lady,¡± I whisper. I¡¯m really hoping she moves first because with her eyes on me, I¡¯m helpless. And from the smile spreading across her lips, she knows it.

    ¡°¡­then let¡¯s go.¡± She moves past me and I regain use of my limbs. Shaking my head, I follow her back to our room.

    -

    An hour and a half later, we step into the great room. I¡¯m beginning to like these late entrances. Having the whole room stop what they¡¯re doing to look at us, watching the idiots eyeing my wife lustfully while the girls burn with envy. It¡¯s a sweet feeling.

    I spot Jac standing with a young woman and three males, holding court with a drink in her hand. I recognize Maxine Guiness by her side but the rest are strangers.

    Like everyone else, their eyes are on us as we approach. I give the group a bow. ¡°Pardon me for being late. Our errand took longer than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Never mind that. Let me introduce¡­¡± I listen with half an ear as Jac introduces the group. These people, if they¡¯re attending a Tome party and being considered as Jac¡¯s intended, they can¡¯t be that important. Otherwise, there¡¯d be a bigger crowd. No one misses an opportunity to network.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°And you remember Lady Guiness.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± I snap back to attention and hold out my hand. She¡¯s a little surprised by the gesture, as noble women usually aren¡¯t so forward, but she quickly grasps it. ¡°We didn¡¯t get much of a chance to talk yesterday.¡±

    ¡°Big voices drown out whispers,¡± she says evenly. Someone¡¯s been well-educated about their place in their family. ¡°Might I inquire about the reason for your delay? If you have a problem, I could help.¡±

    ¡°Nothing like that. I was simply escorting Kierra around the city. We got a bit carried away.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very different from my home.¡±

    Maxine has an excited look as she¡¯s about to reply but one of the men interrupts her. ¡°If all the women are as beautiful as you, then your home must be paradise. Our meeting is the saints¡¯ blessing.¡±

    Kierra looks at the young, admittedly good-looking guy with bored eyes before turning away. His smile wilts a little at the quick dismissal. It morphs into a frown as I fail to completely restrain my laughter. I hold up a hand. ¡°Ah, no offense meant, young lord. Just, this happens a lot. I think it¡¯s best for everyone if I find humor in people¡¯s continued attempts to seduce my wife.¡± When I can.

    ¡°Wife?¡± He looks back and forth between us, his disbelief growing. ¡°This is a joke, right?¡±

    ¡°No joke, friend.¡± I snatch a drink from the tray of a passing servant. ¡°We¡¯ve been happily married for several months.¡±

    ¡°Marital bliss indeed.¡± Kierra is looking at him with interest now as his face moves between disbelief and scorn.

    ¡°What kind of ridiculous¡­two women can¡¯t be married!¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± I say over the rim of my glass.

    ¡°Because a man runs the house. He is the one who achieves glory for the family and raises the family¡¯s status. And you need a man to carry on a line. You can¡¯t even¡ª¡± He looks toward Jac and scowls, unwilling to talk about the details in the company of ladies. ¡°It¡¯s pointless.¡±

    ¡°Pointless.¡± I chuckle as I look at Kierra. ¡°I didn¡¯t think there was still someone so¡­innocent.¡±

    ¡°And ignorant. I didn¡¯t think humans would be so narrow-sighted. Men achieve glory?¡± She snorts. ¡°Then I suppose my entire life¡¯s training and accomplishments have been in vain.¡±

    ¡°Now, now.¡± Another of the men steps forward. ¡°He¡¯s just saying it¡¯s unusual is all. Haha. We are crossing cultural lines.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Maxine takes her chance to jump into the conversation, taking a step forward to draw our attention to her. ¡°Some accounts say that elven rulers have harems that can reach double digits.¡±

    I almost choke on my drink. What? I mean, they do have a pretty open view on sex. Her mother and her aunt threatened to sleep with me when she bragged a little too loudly, but double digits? That¡¯s far too excessive.

    Hey now. What¡¯s with that smile, my wife? ¡°Mm, that¡¯s true. My aunt has seven in hers, but I need nothing like that. I have my hands full with Lou.¡±

    Hehe. I¡¯ll admit, it¡¯s a big boost to my ego. The men are watching me with speculative looks. Trying to figure out what I did to deserve those words. You can¡¯t imagine.

    ¡°Is that so. Lady Tome, I was hoping to discuss your map with you. Perhaps while gathering something to eat?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    She guides us to a table but makes no move to take any of the offered finger foods. Her smile is still friendly and her eyes are more relaxed away from watching eyes. ¡°We, the Guiness family are definitely interested in your map. If it¡¯s fine by you, I can accompany you to our shop and introduce you to our resident cartographer.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good. And maybe there¡¯s something else you can do for me.¡±

    ¡°Name it, Lady Tome. We are eager to be of service.¡±

    I¡¯ll have to remember to never underestimate the power of greed. It reduces a daughter from one of the most powerful families in the kingdom to a dog wagging her tail in anticipation of a treat. ¡°Junior isn¡¯t here. You wouldn¡¯t happen to know why, would you?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, no.¡±

    ¡°Really? Not even so much as a rumor?¡± Don¡¯t try and convince me that your family doesn¡¯t have assets in the city collecting information on every family. I won¡¯t believe you.

    Her expression doesn¡¯t change but I know she¡¯s evaluating me. Cheh. Nobles. Always looking for the angle.

    ¡°I really have no idea,¡± she continues.

    Hmph. Fine. This means they aren¡¯t willing to act against the Grimoires. They didn¡¯t seem friendly but I guess no one will be hostile to such a powerful family with no reason.

    Too bad. A swift denouncement of the Grimoires may be the one thing that could give me a favorable enough opinion of the merchants to try and cooperate with them. Now I know they¡¯re the same as the rest.

    ¡°By the way, what exactly is your family looking for? It would help us with negotiations if we knew what you really wanted instead of trying to sell some vague trade request.¡±

    Maxine hesitates. For a minute I think she¡¯s not going to speak, but then she says, ¡°My father is interested in accounts from other races that claim the elven homeland has a significant deposit of xanderium.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see.¡±

    ¡°Xanderium?¡± Kierra asks. ¡°That sounds familiar.¡±

    Maxine gaze snaps to her, her excitement building but I cut in. ¡°Remember, it¡¯s ore that can channel mana. It¡¯s not native to the Harvest Kingdom. There are three weapons made from it and they¡¯re all national treasures. Any merchant that could acquire some, no matter what the price, they¡¯d make a fortune.¡±

    ¡°Hoh. Yes, you mentioned that before. It¡¯s known under a different name in the provinces. Kor¡¯vitri.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve heard of it.¡± Maxine looks ready to pounce on Kierra. ¡°Are there any significant deposits? The Guiness family has trade with both Green Mountain and the Dragon Isles. We¡¯d be willingly to pay a high price for anything the elves are willingly to spare.¡±

    ¡°Lou handles the business.¡± She turns away and with that one simple sentence, she¡¯s shrugged all the responsibility onto me. I don¡¯t like the look the young merchant is giving me.

    ¡°Shall we handle one deal at a time? The elves don¡¯t call it earth treasure for nothing.¡±

    ¡°You speak elven?¡±

    ¡°Here and there.¡± Kierra growls in her native tongue when she gets excited and whispers it sweetly when we lie together. Always gets a big smile when I clumsily try to repeat a bit of it back, so I¡¯ve been making an effort. ¡°Your family is missing the buck though. Rather than mana ore, you should be trying to get your hands on their fruit wine.¡±

    ¡°Fruit wine?¡±

    ¡°Trust me. Once someone has a sip, everything else tastes like piss.¡± I shoot a glare at Kierra. ¡°Thank you for that, by the way. Haven¡¯t been able to enjoy drink since.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±

    ¡°I would love to hear more.¡± Maxine¡¯s smile stretches wider. I bet you would, vulture. At least she¡¯s a nice-looking vulture. Those gray eyes are mysterious. While it looks like she¡¯s wearing her emotions on her sleeve, those eyes tell me she¡¯s holding something back. Looking at them, I know she isn¡¯t as simple as she appears.

    Or maybe that¡¯s something else talking. Ah, dammit, I don¡¯t want to deal with this. Forget greedy merchants. If Junior isn¡¯t here for me to needle him, I want to get to my plans already. I have a lot of work to do. Stupid Jac, lying to get her way.

    ¡°Excuse me, ladies.¡±

    We turn to see a group of young nobles standing to our side. They only have eyes for my wife, especially the men. Sigh. Let¡¯s endure this for now and wait for a good moment to make my exit.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 14

    A week later, I¡¯m holed up in the Tome family library when the door opens. My face twists into a scowl as I ready to chase away my annoying Uncle for the umpteenth time but I relax when I recognize Kierra. She¡¯s carrying a snack tray with a two large cups of steaming tea.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I quickly tidy up the books around me, creating space for the tray. She sets down her burden and drags an empty chair over.

    ¡°I feel like it¡¯s been days since I¡¯ve seen you.¡± She picks up her cup and peers at me over the rim. ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried your lonely wife might be swayed by the sea of suitors that seem to follow me?¡±

    I scoff as I reach for one of the small sandwiches on the tray. ¡°As if they could¡­a sea?¡±

    ¡°Mm. From my understanding, once it was confirmed that my attendance was indeed not a rumor, the Tome family parties soared in popularity. Jac discussed with Maxine about changing the future venues to the Guiness manor.¡±

    That is indeed serious. And Maxine has been working hard. In the end, I postponed my trip to her mapmaker. More accurately, Kierra postponed it in my stead as I¡¯ve been completely focused on my research. Despite that, the Guiness daughter has done her best to continue fostering connections with the Tome family. I don¡¯t trust their intentions but no one can say they¡¯re not dedicated.

    ¡°So, what has your isolation rewarded you besides a slightly sour smell?¡±

    I freeze and casually sniff myself. Ugh. It¡¯s not exactly rancid but I need to bathe. Face flushed with embarrassment, I hand over a stack of my notes. ¡°I¡¯ve pretty much ironed out all the details. After gathering the necessary supplies, we¡¯ll be good to go.¡±

    She takes the papers, her brows furrowing deeper with every page she turns. Halfway through, she stops. ¡°Lou¡­I don¡¯t understand any of this.¡±

    ¡°¡­why do you sound so surprised?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re my Lou.¡± She hands the papers back to me with an expression close to shock. ¡°Silly, endearing, newly awakened to your suspect morality, full of potential. Not¡­that.¡±

    ¡°I think I should be offended. I am a Tome, you know.¡± Seriously, she¡¯s underestimating what it means to inherit a family legacy. When it comes to anything else, I¡¯d be the first to admit I¡¯m inexperienced and quite lacking, but summoning? It¡¯s one of the few areas I have confidence in. I¡¯d even be willing to call myself an expert.

    ¡°Here, let me show you.¡± I grab one of the books behind me and walk over to her. Taking a seat on her chair¡¯s arm, I open it in front of her. ¡°This is a summoning record from the Grimoire family. The considerate bastard even included illustrations.¡±

    On the page are four illustrations. The first is of a small creature that looks like a plump child with unnaturally large eyes. The second is a humanoid with a tail that ends in a spade. The third is of a stone like creature with no other features besides their four eyes, two horns jutting out of its forehead. Last is a blob with no discernible shape or features.

    ¡°Let¡¯s have a little lesson on summoning. First, succubi. People think that all succubi are thralls. In actuality, they are merely a stage in the race¡¯s evolution.¡± I point to the first drawing. ¡°First stage succubi are called imps. They are the most basic members of the race with minimal intelligence. Despite that, they still have the mental and physical affinities succubi are known for so they are useful servants.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Second stage are the ones most people know of, thralls. They¡¯re humanoids, but contrary to popular belief, they are not actually women. They have greater mastery of the physical affinity which gives them the ability to alter their anatomy. They switch between male and female, changing their features to match the tastes of their summoner, or their prey.

    ¡°Next are the virtues. They¡¯re made of stone, but not how we think of it. It¡¯s¡­living stone? I¡¯m not really sure. The Grimoires keep the research pretty close. The point is, their stone bodies are because they gain another affinity by this point, either fire or earth. They can also change their shape.

    ¡°Last, we have the ruling class of the succubi. Dons. No one has seen their true shape because they have so many forms. Normally, they appear in front of summoners in the guise of thralls. They have mental, physical, fire or earth, and water affinities and are supreme existences. It¡¯s commonly accepted that they all have coefficients over 1,000.¡±

    ¡°A good lesson,¡± Kierra says evenly. ¡°What does that have to do with your plans?¡±

    I close the book and set it on top of a pile. ¡°Everyone likes the idea of summoning, having a powerful being at your beck and call. What they forget is that the elemental also has conditions for the summoner. Some are a lot more restrictive than others.¡±

    I reclaim my seat and lace my fingers. ¡°Succubi are divided into circles based on their strength, one being the lowest imps, seven being the strongest don. Everything in their society is decided based on strength. Therefore, upon making their contracts, they always include the condition that they cannot be ordered to go against the orders of a higher ranked succubus.

    ¡°Junior has a circle 3 thrall. Gordon Senior has a circle 5 virtue I believe. My original plan was to explore the theory that there are Circle 4 thralls who gain a fire affinity on the verge of evolution. Before, that would have been the best I could manage and would have been more than enough to shame Junior into never showing his face in front me. But now¡­¡±

    I chuckle, the sound slowly growing until it echoed through the room. Kierra grins wryly watching me. It¡¯s really too great. ¡°With my new lineage, circle 4 is too small. I¡¯m going to summon a circle 7 don. Do you understand? If I successfully create a contract, that means I instantly gain control of every succubi contracted to the Grimoire family. I can have them divulge that family¡¯s secrets, all the secrets of other families they¡¯ve collected, to sabotage them from the inside. In one fell swoop, I¡¯ll destroy the Grimoires and obtain all of their political clout. Hahahaha!¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Of course, that is assuming you manage to secure a contract.¡±

    My laughter slowly peters out. Why did you have to point that out? Yeah, so no one¡¯s ever managed to secure a contract with a don before but there¡¯s never been someone like me. ¡°I¡¯m pretty confident. Succubi feed on mana. The stronger and more variety, the better. It¡¯s the whole reason they form contracts. Can you imagine such a being not being tempted by me? I even have a specific don¡­I¡¯m¡­targeting¡­¡±

    I search the cluttered table for the relevant notes. When I try to hand over the stack to Kierra, she pushes them away. ¡°No need, dedia. You clearly have this well in hand. I can¡¯t be of any help.¡± She stands, smiling brightly as if the admission delights her. ¡°But do get out of here sometime. You¡¯ll waste away in this dark space.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I¡¯ll be leaving tomorrow, since I need to gather supplies. Is there another party today? If so, you can set the meeting for tomorrow. Maxine might be able to help.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to tell her. Eat the rest of the food.¡±

    She pushes the tray toward me meaningfully and I obediently taking another small sandwich, popping it into my mouth. As she leaves, I set about tidying up the space, organizing my notes and placing the records back on their shelves.

    I¡¯ve done all the research, or at least, as much as I can with what¡¯s available to me. The Grimoires undoubtedly have the most extensive knowledge regarding succubi but it shouldn¡¯t matter. In the end, they are creatures with one clear motivation: benefit. If the benefit is great enough, they are willing to make themselves into slaves of creatures that, judging by any measure, are far beneath them.

    Because of that, I¡¯m confident. Hehe. I¡¯ve participated in plenty of summoning rituals alongside Father while he taught me the craft but this will be my first solo attempt and contract. My first time and I¡¯m going after a legendary creature like a don. If this succeeds, I¡¯ll have the qualifications to start my own summoning record. Tomorrow, I¡¯ll ask Maxine if she can procure some particularly durable paper because if, no, when I succeed, it¡¯ll be the beginning of the greatest summoner in the Tome family¡¯s history.

 MAP//DISCORD

    Exactly as the chapter title says!

    RFTC is picking up a little steam and it was recommended to me to create a Discord server. I aim to please so...

    https://discord.gg/spRF2uhMtt

    Now, I''m fairly new to Discord (I''ve heard of it like once) so if there''s something you all want to see, let me know. For now, we''ve got the basics, including patron exclusive threads and roles. What you can expect:

    -I''ll try to drop in for an hour or so everyday if you have questions or just want to talk all things Cosmo

    -Announcements regarding releases

    -I''m thinking about doing lore releases? (background on things like the elven provinces and different elementals, maybe some of the Harvest nobles)

    -A good time

    The rules are posted in the welcome section but just to summarize, let''s all get along and keep our words civil. Yes? Yes.

    I will also have my Goals posted in the Announcements thread. Once I reach a certain number of patrons, all readers will get benefits. What benefit you ask? Well, once I reach 50 patrons, I will do a bulk release for everyone. 10 chapters. (Yes, even $1 tier counts). Not only that, I will do so for every 50 patrons. That means, if for some crazy reason I reach 150 patrons by the end of next week (insanity), I release 32 chapters within a week. For everyone. Yup, the bulk release is on top of the normal release.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    There''s also a special goal. When we reach 300 patrons, all readers will be invited to vote on a second series. Something similar to RFTC? A spinoff? Nope! Without giving out too many details, your choices are:

    <ol>

    <li>Urban fantasy with "demons"</li>

    <li>Dungeon Core isekai</li>

    <li>Reborn as a monster/cultivation</li>

    </ol>

    They will share similar tags, if you catch my meaning. Upon three hundred, sample chapters will be released and voting shall ensue. At the start of every month, I will update the patron count for all to see (so you can see it''s 49 and stare at your debit card intensely).

    And now, for the map! I give you the Harvest Continent!

    Not too bad, eh? It''s a little rough but accurate.

    You will notice there are several places here that aren''t mentioned in the story yet. Just shows we''ve got a long way to go! (no, really, I mean it, this story isn''t getting dropped anytime soon...) The map will also be filled out more as you can see there are a few places that haven''t been named (if something needs to happen there I guess) and then there is the highly anticipated world map but that''ll only be released once Lou leaves Harvest (few arcs before that).

    If you want more stuff like this, join my discord!

    By request, a summary of the story so far!

    Lou''s father manages a small village (not there cause it''s really unimportant) outside of Summer Spire, the capital of the Harvest Kingdom. She was on her way to the Grand Hall, which is in the city of Quest, when their carriage was attacked and she was taken by Crowley Cain. After a botched summoning, she meets Cosmo who drops her in the Enchanted Forest, the strip of land connecting the human and elven continents (you can just see a hint of the elven continent at the base of the map). There she meets Kierra and after their union, they return to Lou''s village. Upon the onset of winter, she receives an invitation from her Uncle Jackal, Javarius Tome, to come to their main estate in the capital, Summer Spire.

    Eventually, there will be maps of the cities themselves. Works in progress.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 15

    As predicted, I sleep through the party that night. I must have been really out of it because I didn¡¯t stir when Kierra slid into bed next to me.

    My eyes open early the next morning and I feel better than I have for days. One of the downsides to my research is an irregular sleep schedule. There were several times when I¡¯d be reading a book and then the next thing I knew, I was lifting my head off the table, wondering when I fell asleep.

    As usual, my wife is awake before me. She looks at me with hooded eyes as she draws me closer, spooning against my back. She nuzzles my neck, breathing in deeply. ¡°You smell like a field in bloom,¡± she says with a chuckle.

    I drew a bath before tumbling into bed. Mindful of her comments yesterday, I may have overindulged with the expensive soaps. ¡°Too much?¡±

    ¡°Very ladylike of you.¡± I jump, biting down on a moan as her tongue trails a spot just under my ear. She knows all my weak points by now. ¡°Sweet.¡±

    I turn in her embrace. ¡°Doesn¡¯t suit me, I know.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that.¡±

    Yeah, but I bet you prefer me smelling of troll musk. Aw, my poor elf. I wince, realizing I¡¯ve practically abandoned her these last few days. Sea of suitors, huh?

    I roll on top of her, straddling her waist. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve thanked you for handling all of my annoying social engagements.¡±

    Her smile is blinding with a hint of a mocking edge. ¡°Little me fending off the wolves and vultures. Youth makes young men brave indeed. Or an uncommon number of them are under a hex that gives their limbs their own minds.¡±

    I frown. Did they¡ªyeah. Course they did. Privileged and used to women falling over themselves for a taste of wealth, I bet a few tried to take liberties. What holds my anger at bay is knowing she definitely didn¡¯t let them get away with it.

    ¡°Sounds like a good time.¡± I lean over her, showing off my meagre bust. The way her eyes rake over me, you¡¯d think I¡¯d presented her with a chest stuffed with gold and precious jewels. It¡¯s no wonder I¡¯m so helpless around her. What woman could resist someone makes them feel like the most beautiful woman in the room with just a look? ¡°How will I compete?¡±

    Her arms go around my neck and pull me closer. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ll have put in extra effort,¡± she whispers against my lips.

    Our kiss lacks its usual passion. It¡¯s slow and soft. Almost as if we¡¯re getting reacquainted. My hands wander as our breaths mingle, tracing her supple skin. It amazes me that despite her rough life, it remains as soft as a babe¡¯s. Another benefit of the physical affinity? How the women of nobility will burn with envy knowing she doesn¡¯t have to worry about the ravages of time anytime soon.

    My attention is drawn out of my idle thoughts as she lets out a quiet moan. Questing fingers have found their way to her chest and are enjoying themselves groping the impressive mounds. Amazing she can move the way she does with such large assets.

    I break our lip lock, trailing butterfly kisses down her nape and across her chest before taking one of the hard nubs into my mouth. She groans as I tease her with little nips, arcing towards me. My free hand goes to her waist, pulling her closer as she grinds her slick core against my thigh.

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± she whispers, hands going into my hair as I switch to the neglected breast. ¡°My adorable Lou. Don¡¯t tease me. I can¡¯t stand it.¡± To illustrate her point, the hands in my hair tighten until the grip is just short of painful. I look up at her with a pout. Aw, I wanted to take my time.

    She chuckles. ¡°Mm. Am I ruining your fun? But I miss you and am not in a mood to be patient. Your fault for leaving me alone while you played with your books.¡± The intensity she stares me down with sends shudders down my spine. ¡°Take responsibility.¡±

    Her hands are pushing me down her body before she even finishes speaking. I follow obligingly, trailing my tongue over her navel and across her thigh. She stops pushing as I settle between her legs, putting the shapely limbs over my shoulders. A hiss forces its way through her clenched teeth at the first swipe of my tongue over her sex, her fingers scraping my scalp. I snicker, pausing to enjoy the moment. Kierra growls.

    ¡°Pushy,¡± I mumble as I grab her by the waist and dig into the offered feast, making sure to put in ¡®extra effort¡¯.

    -

    I always thought the differences between the rich and the poor were big things. Rich people live in big houses. Rich people live on a big piece of land. The richest person in the land has the biggest house, the palace, and owns the biggest land, the country.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Riding with Maxine Guiness to one of their family¡¯s shops, I realize that the difference between us isn¡¯t just the big things, but also the things that nearly slip under my nose.

    The cushions stuffed with cotton rather than straw. The glass window hidden by the wooden shutters. Most extravagant of all are the flowers growing out of the walls, filling the carriage with a soft perfume.

    I don¡¯t even comprehend that one. It has to be the work of a high-level dual earth and water caster or maybe a physical caster. For either, the price would be astronomical, since the plant would have to be maintained with magic. All for an effect that could be achieved with a few oils, minus the jaw-dropping visual.

    The crazy thing? This isn¡¯t their best. Maxine called for it, so it must be her personal carriage. She¡¯s the eighth daughter. Her position in the family isn¡¯t high enough to warrant the best they can muster. If this is her carriage, I don¡¯t even want to imagine what her father¡¯s looks like.

    Such a pointless use of resources for a simple display of status. Or worse, to them, it wouldn¡¯t even qualify as a waste but more like the pocket change a mother occasionally uses to buy her child sweets.

    That thought is seriously scary.

    ¡°Ah, we¡¯ve arrived. Mind your step coming out.¡±

    She gives her warning as the carriage rolls to a smooth stop. The door is opened by a knight, his partner standing on the other side of the door while four others clear the immediate area, holding back curious on-lookers.

    A Guiness daughter is the equivalent of a princess. Her family takes her security very seriously. I¡¯m not strong enough to judge the knights in gleaming gold armor but Kierra seems to approve of them.

    The knight who opened the door helps Maxine down. I dodge that proposal smoothly, jumping down easily.

    The building in front of us is large for a shop. It takes up enough area for two buildings, rising a rare three stories high. It¡¯s made entirely out of gleaming white stone, its front covered in large arched windows. A golden shield with a white bird in mid-flight announces its relation to the Guiness family. A pair of knights dressed in white armor with gold capes stand in front of the doors.

    ¡°This is our main shop in the city,¡± Maxine says while guiding us inside. Its spacious, with a high ceiling and long counter in the back, but it looks like an average shop, several shelves stocked with common living necessities and a few specialty products.

    Seeing the golden knights, the clerk bows his head. Maxine ignores him as she moves around the counter, opening a door behind it. It opens into a long hall with a staircase to the side. I follow her up, curiosity piqued as the sound of chattering becomes louder. There¡¯s a door at the top of the steps.

    When we walk through, a gasp slips past my lips. Unlike the bottom floor, this one is full of activity. In the biggest space I¡¯ve ever seen, there are dozens of people moving around and chatting with each other.

    The biggest group is in the center, gathered around a large table. As we make our way over, I can see that the table is covered by a map of the kingdom. A very realistic one that includes land formations and miniature cities. Whoa, it even has little animals that represent the life in the area.

    I jump as two of the animals on the map suddenly glow and start to attack each other. After a few seconds, one of them shrinks and the two move back. Saints wisdom, these people created a magic map that, I think, reflects actual events as they happen.

    ¡­how much effort did this thing take? It makes my map look like a child¡¯s drawing. I¡¯m kind of embarrassed to pull it out, especially when the people gathered around the table all focus on me.

    Maxine waves at the group. ¡°This is the Terrain Hall, where we supervise our supply routes. The king also hires us to map areas and provide assessments on land for possible development. This is Hank, the head of the Hall.¡±

    An older man with a few gray strands in his thick head of hair and smiling brown eyes holds out his hand to me. ¡°So, you¡¯re the daring lady who went to the elven continent. And you brought back a pretty good souvenir, ahaha.¡±

    ¡°We met in the Enchanted Forest actually.¡± Don¡¯t want everyone to know that I¡¯ve set foot on elven soil. I plan on using that as my excuse to dodge their requests.

    ¡°Enchanting indeed. You won¡¯t get a lot of rest in the capital, young lady.¡± He laughs again. This guy laughs too much. It¡¯s not even pleasant, more like a braying than anything else. And he just called Kierra ¡®young lady¡¯. That¡¯s...beyond wrong. ¡°Now, I hear you have a map to show me.¡±

    ¡°¡­yeah.¡± I shrug off the pack on my shoulder and hand over a neat stack of papers. Hank sets aside the guide on top and unfolds the map. Someone else mutters under their breath and a small swirling wind lifts the map for them all to see.

    ¡°Hmm. It¡¯s rough but very detailed. This could definitely work.¡± Hank flips through the guide, nodding his head. ¡°And this is good information. Young miss, you found something good here.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re going to try and make a magic map like this?¡±

    He laughs. ¡°I wish it were that easy. Making one of these requires linking it to the location, which is a time-consuming process. The best we can do is clean it up and get it to our people for distribution.¡± Getting a nod from the others at the table, he folds the map back and hands everything back to me. I¡¯m a little surprised. Since it¡¯s worth something, I thought I¡¯d have to pry it out of their hands if we couldn¡¯t come to an agreement.

    ¡°We can continue talking over here.¡± Maxine leads us past the table and up one of two staircases that lead to a large landing. There are three doors along the back wall. She opens the middle one and guides us into a sitting area with an open doorway off it.

    She waves for us to sit on the couches while she disappears into the other room. A few minutes later, she comes back out carrying a tea tray. She fixes two cups and sets them in front of us. ¡°Dragon plum tea. It¡¯s a special plant that only grows on the Dragon Isles and an exclusive product of the Guiness company.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± I raise the cup, inhaling a fragrant scent that relaxes my shoulders. Being served high quality refreshments by a Guiness daughter. People really can move up in the world.

    I put it down after a small sip, leaning forward. From the way Kierra is quietly enjoying her tea, she really intends to leave the business talk to me. I have no doubt she could handle it if she wanted to. Is this a part of the standards I¡¯m supposed to meet? ¡°Shall we get right to it?¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 16

    ¡°Of course. The Guiness Company is prepared to offer you 700 gold crowns for your map and guide with ownership and distribution rights.¡±

    Hooh. Have to take a deep breath there. Seven hundred gold crowns. That¡¯s enough money to make my head spin. But¡­compared to the vast ocean of the Guiness family funds, it¡¯s nothing. More importantly, they¡¯re offering it for complete ownership of the map.

    As much as I want that money, and I¡¯m practically drooling at the thought of it, that map is worth more. Not now, while it¡¯s unknown. All it takes is one successful adventurer party. Kierra¡¯s enlightened me about the resources in the Enchanted Forest. Combined with what they can get from the beasts inhabiting it and securing a route to the elven nation¡­

    ¡°That map is worth 1,500 gold crowns at the least.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s smile doesn¡¯t waver but there¡¯s a new tension in the air. I don¡¯t blame her. 1,500 crowns are enough buy, build, and operate a small village for a year. ¡°That¡¯s quite an extraordinary amount, Lou.¡±

    ¡°The forest is an extraordinary place.¡± I put my map and guide on the table. ¡°Take a look at what¡¯s in there. Some of those plants are organic gold to potion masters and those alchemists will sell their newborns for new beasts.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Perhaps. After all, they have to be researched. We won¡¯t be able to make a solid profit unless we determine their uses which will require a significant investment. Not to mention the investment required to ¡®encourage¡¯ adventurers to explore the area.¡±

    ¡°It may take an investment but it¡¯s guaranteed to pay off. Adventurers will naturally flock to the area, especially with profits guaranteed by the Guiness Company. They wouldn¡¯t be adventurers if they didn¡¯t. Not to mention that if they don¡¯t, you have enough knights to send them in to gather the materials for you.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°A fair point. However, plus one thousand is excessive no matter how you look at it. You may think we pour gold down our drains but that is quite a large amount of money and it will take years before it really shines.¡±

    ¡°It will. But by the time people finally become familiar with the forest, you¡¯ll already have established routes, hunting areas, and market prices. More importantly, you¡¯ll have first crack at establishing a base that¡¯ll lead to the only road between the human and elven continents.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s smile widens. What, did you think I didn¡¯t know why you wanted this map so badly? Relationships between humans and elves may be terrible now but Marquis Guiness seems intent on changing that. Should they ever improve, whoever has control of the Enchanted Forest and its surrounding area will make an incredible amount of profit. Thinking about that, 1,500 is a little light but it¡¯s fine. My map doesn¡¯t include everything. That¡¯s where Guide to the Enchanted Forest Part 2 comes in. Hehe.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°1,500 is still a bit much. I¡¯ll offer you 1,250.¡±

    ¡°Hey, now. I was being generous. I should have asked for 2,000.¡±

    ¡°Raising your price in a negotiation is bad form, Lou. 1,350.¡±

    ¡°Too bad I¡¯m not an accomplished businesswoman like yourself. You should take my original offer before I say something really crazy like 2,500.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s lips twitch. I can¡¯t tell if she¡¯s amused or annoyed. ¡°Very well. 1,500. You can leave the materials with me. A courier will be sent around to your place with the money or you can have it in bonds.¡±

    I hand over the materials. No need to worry about the Guiness family cheating us. As a national entity, they can¡¯t afford to mar their reputation. ¡°Bonds? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a new system we¡¯re trying out. Gold coins are cumbersome and merchants carrying them can be robbed on the road. Rather than that, we hand out bonds, signed by the recipient and stamped with their House¡¯s crest. It can be handed in to any of our main branches and exchanged for either the money or the goods. It¡¯s both safer and more convenient.¡±

    I grasp the concept but something tells me I don¡¯t quite understand how powerful it really is. ¡°I¡¯ll take it in gold.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I also want to discuss the Guiness Company hiring you, your wife, or both of you as guides for our teams.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Before that¡­¡± I reach into my knapsack and pull out another stack of papers, handing them over. ¡°This is a list of materials I need. You can deduct the cost from the payment.¡±

    Maxine takes the papers and looks them over. ¡°Burning amber dust, petrified iron wood, half a dozen cores of pink passion fruit. These are quite random objects.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re components needed for a summoning.¡±

    Her eyes shine. ¡°I see. Perhaps that¡¯s why you¡¯ve been absent from the recent gatherings?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. The next time you see me, I¡¯ll have a new companion at my side. It¡¯s going to be¡­interesting.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Then I look forward to that. As you seem busy, we can revisit the talk about guides.¡± She stands up and I follow. This time when I stick out my hand, she doesn¡¯t hesitate to grasp it firmly.

    ¡°Mm.¡± Kierra sets down her cup with a clink. ¡°Max, add a bag of that tea to your list. No, two.¡±

    Max? Since when were the two of them so close?

    ¡°Something as small as that can be tossed in for free.¡±

    ¡­should I be worried?

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll take off. No need to escort us back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get started on this. Please, take a look around our shop. You can tell the shopkeeper when you¡¯re ready to leave and he¡¯ll have a carriage pulled around for you. A dinner is scheduled for tomorrow where we¡¯ll be discussing organizing a party together at the Guiness manor. Should I expect you?¡±

    ¡°How quickly can you gather these materials?¡±

    ¡°Since they¡¯re not too rare, tomorrow morning.¡±

    My eyes widen at the announcement. She smirks at me. ¡°The Guiness company¡¯s warehouse is not to be underestimated.¡±

    ¡°Good for both of us. Though I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be at the dinner, if the party isn¡¯t planned for too soon, I¡¯ll be there. Suppose a week will be long enough.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make note of it.¡±

    There¡¯s a beat where I wait to see if there¡¯s anything else forthcoming. When she doesn¡¯t speak, I hastily leave the room, waving at Hank before jogging down the stairs. My first business negotiation. I don¡¯t think it went too badly. More importantly, my summoning will be happening sooner than I thought.

    Fu---u~ How exciting.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 17

    Crack!

    I toss the broken leg of the wooden bedframe into the corner with the rest of the furniture we¡¯ve destroyed. Kierra is in the process of breaking down the rest of it. On the opposite side of the room, Father and Uncle are supervising the servants bringing in the materials I ordered from the Guiness family and our work with sour expressions.

    ¡°This is a bit¡­excessive,¡± Uncles says, wincing as I break another piece of furniture. I know he wants to use a stronger word but even now, he doesn¡¯t want to alienate my wife who is right next to me in this destruction. ¡°What exactly is it you plan on summoning?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer to keep that a secret.¡± If they knew what I was planning, it would lead to some awkward explanations. Their interest in me now can¡¯t be compared to what they¡¯d do if they found out that I had seven affinities. I¡¯d have to cut away the lips stuck to my ass. ¡°Can you guys leave? Peeping on a summoning is bad form.¡±

    Father sniffs. ¡°I hope your success is worth all this commotion.¡± Then he leaves without a backward glance.

    I heard that. He said my success. Well, he did train me himself so he has complete confidence in my ability as a summoner. Still, it¡¯s a little heartwarming. Much more than the scowl my Uncle wears as he leaves the room.

    When the final box is put down and the last servant leaves, I move to the smallest one and pull out a box of well-maintained carving tools along with several long smudge sticks. I give the polished wood floor a pitying glance. ¡°Kierra, I¡¯m going to need your help. No one can come into this room.¡± It goes beyond hiding my new potential. I¡¯m about to summon a circle 7 don. After my success, the tiniest part of my summoning circle will be worth more than enough to pay the taxman.

    ¡°Do your work without worry. I¡¯ll even make sure you don¡¯t starve yourself during the process.¡±

    I nod. Tearing off my tunic, I grab my notes, spreading them out across the only table not broken into bits. Familiarizing myself with my starting point, I kneel on the floor and begin to draw, quickly losing myself in the work.

    -

    The sound of the door opening causes my head to snap up. ¡°Wait!¡±

    Kierra pauses with one foot in the air, holding a tray in one hand and a book in the other. An eyebrow goes up at my shout. ¡°Explain?¡±

    ¡°I just wanted you to be careful. I¡¯ve just about ready to start. If anything gets disturbed and I carve wrong, it¡¯ll ruin everything.¡± I slowly get to my feet and step around my drawing. Taking the tray from her hand, I lead her to the table. Her eyes flick over the gigantic circle drawn on the floor while I attack the snack foods and guzzle down the fruit juice.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been busy.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Since your circle is complete, you¡¯ll be starting the summoning soon then?¡±

    I choke on my last bite. Kierra steps over to me quickly but I stop her before she starts pounding on my back. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just surprised.¡± Really, she¡¯s married to someone from the Tome family and still said something like this. Good thing it wasn¡¯t in public. I admit, I¡¯d be embarrassed to be anywhere near her if it were. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to educate you. Here.¡±

    I grab her hand and pull her over to the edge of the circle. ¡°You should know that spells are a mix of calculation and intention. You solve the spell and then pour your intention into it. The numbers are a way to clearly communicate your will to the mana as they help the caster visualize each step. However, summoning is pure intention. There¡¯s only one place for any numbers.¡± I point to the center of the circle where a few symbols are knotted together. ¡°Describes what I¡¯m summoning. The rest describes my intention.¡±

    ¡°Hah¡­¡±

    I sigh at her vacant smirk. It¡¯s cute but come on. ¡°Okay. Technically, yes. I could do the summoning right now but remember, this is a physical representation of my intention. Something so crude is like¡­think of it as inviting a lady out to dinner.¡±

    She bursts into laughter. ¡°I¡¯m serious! That¡¯s exactly what it is. This circle is me calling out to a stranger and asking her to go out with me. I¡¯ve got a few minutes to convince her to spend the night. No, contracts are a bigger commitment. I¡¯ve got a few minutes to convince a stranger to marry me and if I make a bad impression, that¡¯s it.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Working with that metaphor, how do you think an elemental will respond to being summoned into something like this? It¡¯s like proposing with a ring made of folded paper.¡±

    She laughs louder but at my glare, she covers her mouth with a hand in an attempt to muffle it. Seeing her amusement, I can¡¯t help but chuckle. Saying it out loud, it really does sound ridiculous but there are still so-called summoners who do it.

    ¡°Then what is your carving into the floor?¡± she asks once she has control of herself.

    ¡°The wood itself is good quality. Doesn¡¯t have the same permanence of stone or the elegance of precious metals but I¡¯d say it¡¯s something like low quality silver. But I¡¯ve got a plan to make it better.¡±

    ¡°¡­the materials you acquired.¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm. Materials that naturally accumulate mana of different affinities or are similar in properties to the world succubi live in, Burning Earth. By incorporating familiar aspects, it makes my invitation more inviting. Now, look closely. What do you see?¡±

    A warm feeling fills my chest as she lets go of my hand and slowly walks around the perimeter. It¡¯s nice seeing the one I¡¯m most interested in appreciating my other interests. After a full revolution, she¡¯s standing on my opposite side. ¡°At first, I thought it was merely one large drawing but it¡¯s actually several drawings blended together.¡±

    I snap my fingers. ¡°Yes! Exactly. Can you describe someone in numbers? Maybe what they are, but not who they are. Elementals never give their true names so simply scribbling that won¡¯t do anything. However, they can recognize events. These are representations of known interactions with my target, the Crimson Flame, Geneva. That¡¯s one half. The other half represents me. The places where they meet are my intentions for the contract.¡±

    ¡°You put a lot of effort into this.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Effort? Please. It¡¯ll take another two days to finish carving, hopefully, and another day arranging the materials. Everyone thinks summoning is about negotiating with elementals. Real summoners know that 90% of the work happens before you even use a drop of mana.¡±

    I can¡¯t ignore the haughty pride in my voice as I say that. Kierra acknowledges it as well with twinkling eyes. Saints protect me, this woman delights in the parts of my personality that any normal person would find offensive. I think I¡¯ve matured some after meeting her but at this rate, I¡¯m bound to turn into some kind of degenerate.

    ¡°Mm. I¡¯ll give you your space to work then. And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be careful coming in.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Where are you sleeping?¡± Since we kind of destroyed the bed¡­

    ¡°The fourth guestroom. I¡¯d say see you tonight but something tells me you won¡¯t be around much until this is over.¡±

    I grunt in agreement, my gaze already refocusing on my circle. She gives me a quick kiss before leaving the room and I go back to my tools, kneeling as I continue my work.

    With each scrape, I think of my target. Geneva. As a circle 7 don, she¡¯s pretty famous. For one, she¡¯s answered the most calls of any other her rank. Even those not from the Grimoire family. A few members of the Tome family have contacted her, which is why I have so much information.

    Unfortunately, the reason why she answers the calls is because she has a penchant for schemes. The story is always the same. She comes and she answers their questions. Many advancements in both water and healing spells have come from her. She baits the summoners with information, drawing them closer. Then, when she finds their true desire, she demands an unreasonable price.

    Unreasonable, but not impossible. I read an account from an obscure summoner who summoned her at the request of a prominent water mage. In return for knowledge, she asked for the blood of four infants from noble houses. The water mage bound the summoner so he couldn¡¯t talk and secured the infants. It almost caused a civil war. Nevertheless, the spells were passed down.

    From what I¡¯ve seen, Geneva is a top-class manipulator and more than a little sadistic. However, she is also a huge font of knowledge with an inclination toward teaching, incredible understanding of magic, and is not averse to destroying the status quo. All qualities I¡¯m looking for in my goal of destroying the Grimoires and can prove useful for the future.

    I¡¯m thinking about all of this as I work, going over every detail I remember. After a time, I start to fantasize about what she will look like. What she¡¯ll sound like. There are descriptions but the brief words and clumsy drawings can¡¯t possibly do her justice.

    Is it obsession? Love? In one of the records I read from a Tome summoner, he says that you have to truly love your elemental if you want any hope of being successful. I think that may be an exaggeration but I¡¯m darn close. There is no part of me that isn¡¯t invested in this. I want to meet her so bad I can practically taste the ash that makes up majority of Burning Earth.

    Ah. I can¡¯t wait to see you Geneva~

    -

    Five days later, I stumble into the fourth guestroom, sparing just enough time to strip before falling into bed. Long arms scoop me up and pull me against a warm body. ¡°Hello, stranger,¡± Kierra whispers.

    I groan.

    ¡°You were cutting it close. Jac and Maxine scheduled their next event for tomorrow night. Would have been a shame if you missed it.¡±

    Didn¡¯t she say a week? Well, I guess it¡¯s close enough. ¡°It¡¯s going to be quite a party,¡± I say with a tired smile. ¡°Did you want to watch?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t be intruding?¡±

    ¡°Nah. In fact, your presence might be helpful. But I¡¯ll need you to follow my instructions.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your show, dedia.¡± I turn around, burying my face in her chest. She chuckles and strokes my hair. ¡°How exciting. I hope you don¡¯t disappoint me.¡±

    Way to lay the pressure me. Hmph. If I hadn¡¯t just dangled on the line of sanity to complete my circle to perfection, I might be intimidated by that statement. My wife, you can relax and enjoy the show, because I am entirely confident.

    As if to prove it, my body relaxes and suddenly drops me into a deep sleep.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 18

    Kierra and I are awake with the first rays of sunlight. I don¡¯t know who¡¯s more excited as we dress. Today, I¡¯m going a little more formal than usual. You don¡¯t ask a woman out wearing cheap threads.

    I¡¯m in the middle of pouring burning amber dust into the grooves of my circle when Kierra enters with a breakfast tray. She closes the door behind her firmly, engaging the rarely used lock before setting the tray on the table. ¡°I grabbed all the freshest ingredients in the kitchen. The chefs were a bit annoyed.¡±

    ¡°Too bad.¡± My stomach gives a fierce growl and I sigh.

    ¡°Sure about that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all about intention. Succubi live in a harsh, barren world. They are constantly hungry for more, which is why they form so many contracts in different realms. If I¡¯m hungry during the summoning¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to believe you are a bit obsessive.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all in the details.¡± I shake out the last dust in the bag. Then I take out a brush from my waistband and carefully sweep the grains into the grooves. ¡°Could you toss me the cores?¡±

    Kierra finds the box with the passion fruit cores and tosses one. I bury it beneath the dust, making sure to place each of the six an equal distance apart. ¡°Right, now we arrange the petrified wood on top of the dust to reinforce the barrier¡­then wrap the bleeding roses around the wood¡­okay, great, help me cover the window.¡±

    We take the ends of a thick, black cloth and some glue to cover up the room¡¯s single window, plunging the room into darkness. I search the boxes for the fire-starting rod. The ruby in the center is glowing bright, already charged with my mana. I may be an inexperienced caster, but even I can start a fire with no problem. However, for this, I can¡¯t afford to waste mana and it¡¯ll take quite a bit to get the temperature right for the effect I want.

    ¡°This is going to get smoky. Remember what I said?¡±

    ¡°Unless you give me a signal, I don¡¯t exist. And even if I do exist, I am not to speak to or acknowledge the elemental in anyway, no matter what she says to me.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± It sounds excessive but it has to be this way. As Father always says, the key to summoning is in the details. If someone else speaks in the middle of the summoning on my behalf or their own, it could be construed as I don¡¯t have the ability to control the room.

    That isn¡¯t good. Even if it doesn¡¯t kill my chances for a contract, the elemental will certainly remember it when it¡¯s time to talk terms. On the other hand, if I can completely control the observers, that looks good on me.

    I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. ¡°Here we go.¡± I fish out the tiny bag of burning amber dust I have left and untie the sack. Then I move to the broken piles of furniture and sprinkle it on top before activating my fire starter by slipping a hint of mana into the ruby at its core. The flames start off a brilliant orange but soon they morph into a deep crimson.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    When all the piles are lit, the room is bathed in red light and filled with bitter smoke. Just like the descriptions of Burning Earth. Everything¡¯s perfect.

    As I place the cheap artifact on the table, I send a brief prayer to Cosmo. Can you hear me wherever you are, you wonderful, glossy elemental? I know what you did for me. Don¡¯t know why, but I¡¯m grateful. You said you were bored. Well, there¡¯s nothing boring about what I¡¯m about to do. Keep your eyes peeled because this is going to be amusing.

    And I was serious about those shrines. Let me know if you have any preferences.

    Feeling invigorated from my one-way conversation with my divine father, I square my shoulders and kneel at the edge of my circle for the last time.

    Geneva has a coefficient of 1000. That means if I want to hold her on this plane, I need to give out 100. Measuring mana output is a tricky thing. The only way to master it is practice, which I don¡¯t have. Things get uncomfortable when a caster goes beyond half their capacity. That means I have to keep going until it gets a little painful before the circle is secure.

    My teeth are grit against the painful twinges in my chest when I stand up. The burning amber dust, charged with my mana, is glowing with a soft red light as opposed to the harsher flames surrounding me. I wish I could capture this moment forever. The best I can do is take a moment to engrave the memory in my mind.

    Then I speak to the person on the other side of the circle. I¡¯ve never experienced this before, as I¡¯ve never been the one doing the actual summoning but it¡¯s like there¡¯s someone in the room and even though I can feel their eyes on me, I can¡¯t see them. I know you¡¯re listening. Are you as excited as I am? ¡°Will you speak with me?¡±

    A line glowing with a scarlet light deeper than the red of the fires behind me appears vertically over the circle, slowly widening until it is big enough for a person to slip through. But no person emerges from it. What does is hard to describe.

    Not because I don¡¯t have the words. It¡¯s hard to focus on it. My eyes strain to pick out details as the scarlet¡­creature comes out, but it¡¯s impossible. I¡¯m getting dizzy just from the effort.

    The creature begins to twist and shudder. A slight pounding starts in my head as I watch and I¡¯m forced to shut my eyes.

    ¡°My, what a cute summoner.¡±

    I open my eyes and tense in an effort to control my reaction. The red creature is gone. In its place is a thrall with gray skin the color of smoke, dark hair, and pink irises. She¡¯s shorter than me by over a head with plenty of curves, her lean legs ending in small, dainty onyx hooves. A dark tail, ending in the shape of a leaf lazily circles in the air.

    All exactly as described, but damn you, summoners who came before. Old geezers and elitist bastards simply put ¡®beware of the creature¡¯s charms¡¯ when what they should have said is that ¡®she¡¯s so cute it¡¯ll make you want to rip your heart out¡¯.

    Saints witness, having her call me cute feels like blasphemy.

    I don¡¯t even try to hold back my squeal of delight after taking her in. There¡¯s no point trying to maintain a fa?ade as a confident summoner in the face of those big eyes watching me so intently.

    This is definitely her mental affinity at work. Even with the circle containing her presence on this plane, vestiges of her power seeps beyond its boundaries. I can feel the whispers, subtle yet powerful enough to tempt me to cross the boundary. Hopefully, being aware of it will give me enough perspective to resist.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 19

    ¡°Thank you for answering my call.¡± I bow my head. Lots of controversy on that. Some say it can be mistaken as weakness but Father has instilled in me that whether the elemental is weak, strong, small, big, humanoid, or monster, you show them the utmost respect. ¡°I am Lourianne Tome. May I have something to call you by?¡±

    ¡°Tome. I know that name. A few of your ancestors have called on me, as you know.¡± She hums as her eyes flick over the circle. ¡°I did think the summons was a bit familiar. You should already have a name to call me by.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to presume.¡±

    She laughs. While Kierra¡¯s is musical like a flute, hers is like the tinkling of bells. I want to hug her so badly right now but my focus doesn¡¯t waver as I discretely watch her tail. Supposedly, it gives away her moods but there hasn¡¯t been a noticeable change yet.

    ¡°Very well. I give you permission to call me by Geneva.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I take a deep breath, trying hard to keep my eyes on her face rather than her naked body. It¡¯s not that hard. Those eyes are mesmerizing. ¡°I will get straight to the point. I would like to form a contract with you.¡±

    She chuckles, her tail whipping a bit faster. The texts mention it to be a sign of amusement but a few also have it as a sign of aggression. Her smile makes me hope for the former. ¡°I¡¯d imagine so. This circle proves you have the capacity to hold me on this realm but I can¡¯t imagine what one such as you could offer me in return for my aid.¡±

    ¡°Allow me to state my requests. Your service would require one thing: complete obedience, except for an order that would require you to go against the orders of higher ranked succubi. In that instance, I would ask that if it is possible, you notify me of these orders.¡±

    She went still at the word ¡®obedience¡¯, her smile turning down into a very unfriendly expression that grew in animosity as I continued to speak. I power through the words without flinching. It¡¯ll take more than a glare to break me.

    ¡°Hoh. A little girl thinks she can command obedience from me. What pray, could you hope to offer in return?¡±

    ¡°My mana. I believe it shall be to your tastes.¡±

    ¡°So, you believe the mana of a baby summoner who is winded after giving away the fraction needed to power this circle can invoke such a powerful desire that I would bind myself to you? This is beginning to become less amusing.¡±

    ¡°I am no ordinary summoner. And I say, with a single taste, you will bind yourself to me and be happy to do so.¡± From my research, to elementals who feed on it, mana has a quality which can even translate to different tastes. Volume has little impact. What matters is rarity and density. Greater affinities taste better than basic ones and casters more experienced at channeling their mana taste better than beginners.

    The history of the only summoner to almost sway Geneva into a contract had a light affinity. If a single greater affinity was enough to nearly topple that pride, I wonder how she¡¯s going to react to me who has seven?

    ¡°I will invite you to have that taste on conditions that you will swear to against your mana. One, you will not attempt to escape. Two, you will not aggress. That includes any attempt to influence me in any way. Three, you will return to the confines of the circle when it is completed. And lastly, should you reject my offer, you may not speak of this summoning to anyone.¡±

    ¡°That is a bit much to conceal your little drawings, baby summoner.¡±

    ¡°The condition is non-negotiable.¡±

    The frown has morphed into a scowl and her tail is sticking straight up. Oh, someone¡¯s not happy with me. ¡°I will amend your second condition. I will not aggress or attempt to influence you in anyway during the tasting. However, if I find you unsatisfactory, I will kill you.¡±

    Her voice turns into a growl at the end of that sentence and her eyes flash ruby red. Suddenly, the cute little thrall has morphed into a nightmare. I have no doubt that she will follow through on those words. I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m frightened. More than a little bit. My legs are shaking with the desire to retreat.

    I can¡¯t help it. It¡¯s instinctual in the face of an overwhelming threat. But isn¡¯t that the point of courage? To overcome those instincts?

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°I will accept your condition with a few of my own. If you are dissatisfied, then you may kill me¡­if you can.¡± Her lips twitch as I deliver the challenge. ¡°And if you do accept my contract¡­¡± I point at her neck and smirk. ¡°I get to collar you.¡±

    Yes, Geneva. I, the baby summoner, just threatened to collar you. It¡¯s nothing much on the surface, just a simple piece of jewelry with my personal crest, yet the meaning goes deep. Contracts are exchanges. No matter what the elemental agrees to, it¡¯s assumed they¡¯re getting something of equal value.

    A collar? That says the summoner has completely conquered them. Broken down their will. The gesture is even recognized by other elementals so it¡¯s not something they can escape when the contract ends.

    I may not be able to return your death threat with any kind of conviction but I can raise the stakes. A fact she appreciates from her smile. It¡¯s like Kierra¡¯s bloodthirsty smile but I can¡¯t describe her as anything but cute.

    ¡°Agreed, baby summoner.¡± She places a hand over her heart. ¡°Guardian of Dimensions who grants us travel between the realms, your follower swears an oath in your name. I understand the conditions laid before me and agree to them. Should I break it, let me lose everything that I am.¡±

    I nod. This Guardian is still a mystery amongst summoners but its influence is undeniable. No elemental who has sworn to this entity has ever broken their word. Despite that, it takes a bit of courage to channel mana to my hand and extend it across the boundary.

    Geneva grabs it and follows me as I pull her out of the circle. Attached to my mana like she is, she can briefly exist on this plane, despite the circle. All I have to do is drop my hand and the connection breaks, giving her scant moments to do anything before she¡¯s yanked off this plane.

    Not that she¡¯d need more than that if I was the frail human she thinks I am. Hehe.

    ¡°Kierra, would you bring me a chair please?¡±

    My wife, who has been intensely watching our exchange, stands and brings the chair she¡¯s been sitting on. Bless her, she retreats without making a sound or even sparing us a glance, doing her best to remain inconspicuous. Couldn¡¯t have done better if I were whispering instructions in her ear.

    Geneva watches her the whole time. ¡°How rare to see an elf among humans. And such a wonderful specimen. Unlike you, she smells rather delicious.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d imagine she does, having a pure affinity and all.¡±

    That gets her attention. Saints grant her virtue, is she drooling? At least her red eyes have lightened to that brilliant rose pink. They¡¯re like two tiny works of art.

    ¡°Baby summoner, counter-offer. We can form a contract right now, but I will take my offerings from that woman.¡±

    ¡°How generous of you. While I greatly wish to have a contract with you, someone casually asking to feed on my wife for my benefit is a little unnerving.¡±

    She wipes her mouth with the back of a hand and peers up at me with a curious gaze. ¡°Wife, is it? Maybe there is more to you than it seems.¡±

    ¡°As you will find out for yourself.¡±

    I pull her with me as I sit down in the chair, guiding her to straddle my lap, which she does with a small smirk. Ah, this is giving me a lot of ideas. Control yourself, Lou. All of that can be addressed later, after the contract is sealed.

    Geneva places her hands dangerously close to my breasts as she leans forward. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to rethink another of those conditions? If you allow me to¡­influence you, this will be quite an experience.¡±

    ¡°I believe it. I¡¯m looking forward to you begging to influence me once I collar you.¡±

    ¡°Beg is it.¡± She raises a hand. I watch as her nails lengthen into things resembling claws. ¡°Then excuse me while I access your blood.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for that. Remember your oath to keep this summoning secret.¡±

    ¡°Do you think I need you to remind me? Perhaps this is an attempt to stall me. Not as confident as you act, baby summoner?¡±

    I don¡¯t waste time talking and simply relax, shrugging off my human transformation. In a moment, I¡¯ve reverted to my elemental form. Whew. It¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve done this. Ah~ No aching muscles feels amazing.

    Geneva stiffens briefly but then her eyes slip shut as she breathes in deeply. ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­¡± Her eyes open slowly. ¡°This smell is¡­so complex, so¡­¡± She shakes her head. ¡°You were human but now you¡¯re this. I¡¯ve never¡ª¡±

    I cut her off by sticking one of my fingers in her mouth. This body of mine doesn¡¯t have blood but I¡¯m sure it contains mana and getting something like a tip of a finger bit off won¡¯t bother me.

    Kierra¡¯s taken off limbs in her training.

    ¡­I ate myself to reclaim them and grew them back like it was nothing. That was a strange day.

    Geneva has gotten over her shock and is busy sucking on my finger. I have never seen such contentment on anyone¡¯s face but I look for her tail. If I could smile in this featureless form of mine, I would be grinning like a fool at the sight of her tail curled along itself into a ball. Every source agreed this is a sign of pleasure. She¡¯s already in the palm of my hand. Now it¡¯s time to seal the deal.

    I use my opposite hand to push up her chin. She needs no encouragement to follow through, her teeth snapping together. There¡¯s a slight pinch. I pull my hand back to see a little stump where the finger would be. It doesn¡¯t hurt but that sight is still disturbing.

    ¡°Mmm~¡±

    Geneva¡¯s hand covers her mouth as she chews with clear relish, her eyes closed to savor the moment. Her tail is twisting and curling rapidly. That isn¡¯t in any of the accounts. It¡¯d make me nervous if she wasn¡¯t so clearly enjoying herself.

    She¡¯s panting like a thirsty dog as she grabs my hand and tries to bring it back to her mouth, but I resist her. The conditions she agreed to means she can¡¯t force the issue.

    Instead, she resorts to a heart-stopping pout. Saints preserve me, I thought Kierra¡¯s was bad but this is torturous. Did she make her eyes bigger? And they¡¯re wet. Wait. Don¡¯t tell me this all-powerful elemental is going to cry because I won¡¯t let her eat me?

    I am deeply disturbed¡­and a little turned on.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 20

    ¡°Please. Just a little more. One more bite.¡±

    Hehe. I¡¯ve got you now. With a thought, I put on my human skin. ¡°If you are satisfied with my taste, you have a circle to get back to.¡±

    She bites her bottom lip as she climbs off me, holding onto a hand. I walk with her back to the circle. Once she crosses the boundary, I let go, grinning as I watch her fidget in the middle as she struggles to keep her composure. ¡°Once again, I extend my original offer with that added condition that you will be collared.¡±

    Geneva winces. ¡°I¡¯m not opposed to a contract with you but can you not revisit the collaring issue?¡±

    ¡°I will not go back on my word.¡±

    ¡°Then, we should discuss my feedings. I will accept once a day¡ª¡±

    ¡°You will be fed when I so desire. I will agree to once every two weeks, which is more than fair. If you desire more than that, you should try hard to please me.¡±

    ¡°Hold on!¡± Her tail whips anxiously. ¡°I am a don! Compared to someone like you who probably doesn¡¯t even have a coefficient of 200¡ª¡±

    ¡°I may have a paltry amount of mana compared to you but I am one of a kind. Something that you cannot claim.¡± I step up to the edge of the circle, leaning forward as far as I dare to stare her down. ¡°I will extend my offer one more time Geneva and I suggest you take it. I sought you out for a reason, but you are not the only don in Burning Earth. Refuse me again and I will extend it to one of your kin. Do you think they will refuse me when they have the same tas¡ª¡±

    ¡°Agreed!¡±

    The quick acceptance throws off my speech and I reel backwards. Geneva grins, her tail slowly whipping behind her. ¡°What can I say? There¡¯s no way I¡¯m letting those idiots get their hands on you. If that means becoming your slave, I still think I¡¯m getting the better end of this deal.¡±

    I clear my throat strongly. Hearing her blatantly call herself my slave is a little¡­

    ¡°Then recite the oath.¡±

    ¡°Guardian of Dimensions, I swear an oath to you. I pledge complete obedience to my summoner, Lourianne Tome, for as long as our contract lasts, with the previous exception mentioned.¡±

    ¡°And not just the words of the orders, but the spirit in which they are given.¡±

    ¡°And not just the words of the orders, but the spirit in which they are given. I swear at the cost of everything that I am.¡±

    ¡°Then Geneva, from this day we are bonded. I gift my mana to you.¡±

    She bends down and places her hand on the circle. I feel a sharp tugging in my chest but I force myself to relax, not fighting the sensation.

    The circle flashes brightly then dims as the light goes into her. She absorbs everything, until it as dull as the night I finished it. That mana is bonded with her own now. It¡¯ll keep her bound to this realm, as long as I¡¯m alive to replenish it.

    Bad side? I¡¯m not getting that back. One part of summoning no one wants to mention. Me, who had a nice 164 coefficient, can now only utilize 64 of it as long as Geneva is on this plane. Personally, I think it¡¯s worth it but not many people like the idea of weakening themselves.

    Geneva practically lunges forward to wrap her arms around me. ¡°Now that that¡¯s out of¡ª¡±

    ¡°You are not to use your influence on anyone unless it¡¯s for defense or with my permission.¡±

    I snap the order out the second I hear the faintest whispers. Almost had me. Can¡¯t give you any orders you disagree with it if you¡¯ve got me wrapped around your thumb from the start.

    Geneva gives me that devastating pout again but I break apart from her and seek refuge in my wife. Kierra opens her arms at my approach. I fall into them, letting out all the stress of the last few days.

    I did it. I actually achieved a contract with a don. Largely relying on my new body but still, this may be the greatest achievement in the history of human summoners.

    But do I count as a human anymore?

    ¡­don¡¯t care. I¡¯m claiming it anyway.

    ¡°Yes, yes. You did a very good job.¡± Kierra runs her nails over my scalp as she softly praises me. This probably looks like a little kid who¡¯s crying into her mother¡¯s chest but at least I got the job done.

    ¡°Not a very magnificent appearance, master. Or would you prefer mistress?¡±

    ¡°Lou is fine,¡± I mumble into my wife¡¯s chest. Someone with the physical affinity will hear it, no matter how muffled.

    ¡°And elf wife, what should I call you?¡±

    ¡°Actually, I believe I enjoy master.¡± Kierra lets go of me and guides me to sit on the chair before gesturing for Geneva to approach. She practically skips over. My elf examines her like a farmer might inspect a piece of livestock. ¡°Not bad at all. Though, judging from that display when you emerged, this isn¡¯t a fixed shape.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t. I can change into anything though big changes may get a bit tiring. Does that bother you, Master?¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Oh, no. I find I enjoy it quite a bit. Especially, when the said someone puts those skills to use. Lou.¡± Kierra looks over her shoulder at me with that too big grin of hers. ¡°Amend your order. Say she is allowed to use her powers to please us but is not allowed to compromise our self-control or decision making.¡±

    ¡°Um.¡± Hey, now. What are you planning to do? ¡°Geneva, take that as my order.¡±

    She nods to show her understanding but she hasn¡¯t taken her eyes off my wife. Kierra licks her lip. ¡°Now then.¡±

    She dips her head and draws Geneva into a kiss, who responds eagerly. As expected of my lovely little barbarian. I know Kierra¡¯s strong but Geneva has a coefficient close to a thousand. Despite that, she¡¯s still holding the succubus against her tightly, practically strong-arming her as they devour each other.

    Not to say Geneva isn¡¯t holding her own. I think she¡¯s doing more than that from the heavy blush across Kierra¡¯s cheeks and the low moans she¡¯s letting out.

    Normally, wouldn¡¯t someone be upset that someone¡¯s locking lips with their wife? Maybe it¡¯s because Geneva¡¯s contracted to me but I¡¯m very okay with this. Wouldn¡¯t be a stretch to say I¡¯m enjoying it. Ah~, I want to swap places with Geneva. Or Kierra.

    Wait, why am I sitting here like an idiot? That¡¯s my succubus. I¡¯m against objectifying them as idols of lust, but if someone¡¯s going to sleep with her, it should be me.

    As soon as I think that, they break apart. Geneva still has her sly smile while Kierra is heaving. ¡°Is Master pleased?¡±

    ¡°Mm. I understand now. But you were holding back, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be dangerous if I went full force from the beginning. Someone has to be¡­eased into the pleasures of Burning Earth.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡±

    Kierra turns back to me. ¡°Right, you as well then.¡±

    ¡°Whoa!¡± I hold up my hands to ward off the approaching succubus. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t want to do that but we have a few things to handle first. Like the room.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I noticed your efforts.¡± Geneva chuckled. ¡°You were almost spot on but you didn¡¯t get the smell right. Burning Earth has a harsh acrid smell that makes you regret breathing.¡±

    I jump up and rush over to the table, scrambling for a piece of paper with enough space and a smudge stick to quickly write out the reminder. This is the duty of any summoner, writing down crucial details needed for the future generations. ¡°Was there anything else? Actually, before that, can you fix the room?¡±

    Geneva and Kierra work together, my wife ripping away the black curtain over the window and opening it to let out the smoke while Geneva douses the flames. I watch her intently but she barely pauses before four medium sized balls of water form over the burning piles of furniture, dropping on the red fires with a loud hiss. Then she opens the door.

    With the smoke flowing out and sunlight streaming in, the mood is completely transformed. The last of my anxiety eases. I¡¯ve really done it. I¡¯ve contracted a circle 7 don. I¡¯m a legend.

    ¡°That¡¯s about it,¡± Geneva says as she walks over to me, dragging the chair behind her. I gratefully sink into it and Geneva plops into my lap. I¡¯m stunned for a moment but when she turns around and winks at me, I give into the urge that¡¯s been needling me from the moment she appeared and hug her against me. ¡°For a baby summoner, you¡¯re very thorough.¡±

    Ah~, she even smells nice. Smoky, like sweet incense. There¡¯s no way sniffing her isn¡¯t weird but she¡¯s my elemental so I can do what I want. I love being a summoner. ¡°Thank you.¡± I use a hand to grab a piece of fruit from the tray Kierra sat down earlier. Geneva gives me an imploring look and I nod my head. She takes several pieces and chews on them happily. Pressed against me, her tail isn¡¯t free to wave about. Instead, it curls around my waist.

    Weirdest hug ever. ¡°You like it?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Burning Earth is not a place for delicacies. Something you should know. I could smell the scent of the fruit seeds in your circle.¡±

    It¡¯s nice when someone appreciates your work. ¡°Kierra, can you come over here?¡± My wife leans against the back of the chair, watching me with dancing eyes. ¡°Okay. Now it¡¯s time to talk about the plan. Geneva, there¡¯s a few reasons why I summoned you. The most immediate one is that I need your help with a plan of mine.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m eager to serve.¡±

    Those words are heavy with innuendo that briefly derails my train of thought. Jeez, this is her without her influence. I can¡¯t imagine what it¡¯s like with it. ¡°I¡¯m sure you know of the Grimoire family.¡±

    ¡°Frequent callers. Several have attempted to form contracts with me. A few of my subordinates are contracted to them now. I even know of their rivalry with the Tome family.¡±

    ¡°Good. That makes this simple. Without killing them, we¡¯re going to destroy them. Well, Junior may die but that¡¯s something to be discussed later.¡± My seething anger has banked, largely suppressed by the euphoria of my success and the cute elemental in my arms.

    Geneva stops eating and pouts at me. ¡°You summoned me for a little revenge?¡±

    ¡°No. I summoned you because you¡¯re going to be my teacher. Revenge is just the dessert.¡±

    ¡°Not that I mind either way. For you, I¡¯d do anything.¡± What those words mean is that she¡¯d do anything to eat me again, but it still warms my heart a little. ¡°So? What exactly are you planning?¡±

    ¡°First. Are there circle four thralls who gain another element on the cusp of evolution?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Though at that time, they go into seclusion to focus on their breakthrough into circle 5 so summoners do not see them.¡±

    ¡°Do you look like one of them?¡±

    Geneva chuckles as the area around her face starts to¡­move. That pounding in my head starts again and I look away.

    ¡°You can look now.¡±

    I turn back. The skin around her forehead has turned black, forming a pattern like ink is pouring down over her brows. Two gray nubs with pink tips poke out of her head. Are those horns? I gently rub one. Rather than a horn, it feels more like stone but softer? This must be the living stone that virtues are made of. ¡°How interesting.¡±

    ¡°Is it to your liking?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re asking me if you¡¯re still cute, yeah,¡± I mutter distractedly. ¡°Why do I get a headache when I try to watch your transformations?¡±

    ¡°Defense mechanism. We¡¯re at our weakest when we transform, so we learn to attack at the same time. It¡¯s reflexive. I was holding back. Otherwise, your mind would have been shattered.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± I want to know more about this but now¡¯s not the time. ¡°Okay. In public, from now on, you¡¯re not Geneva, the circle 7 don, but, um. Kierra, help me out?¡±

    ¡°How about Geo?¡±

    I snap my fingers. ¡°That¡¯ll work. You¡¯re Geo, the circle 4 thrall.¡±

    ¡°Hoh. You don¡¯t want the acclaim of summoning me?¡±

    ¡°At the moment, it¡¯ll do more harm than good. More importantly, it¡¯s very important for them to think you¡¯re weaker than a virtue so Gordon Senior brings his virtue to suppress you. And in that moment, you¡¯re going to give her an order.¡±

    I plan on introducing Geneva at the party tonight and thoroughly embarrassing Gordon. Once it becomes known that I have a thrall, especially one stronger than Junior¡¯s, there¡¯s no way Gordon Senior will sit by quietly.

    Most likely, he¡¯ll try to use their hierarchy to command Geneva to work for him, or force non-compliance so I¡¯m forced to annul the contract. Because there¡¯s no way he¡¯ll let his family¡¯s monopoly on the succubi be compromised.

    Hehe. It¡¯d be much harder to pull this off if I had to break into his manor to reach his virtue. His arrogance is going to make this easy.

    ¡°Until then, we can just relax~¡± I sigh as I relax in the chair. The hard work is done. Now, to enjoy the Grimoires¡¯ dismay as they crash and burn. Well, I still have to destroy my beautiful circle that I worked so hard on and someone is going to notice all the smoke coming out of here soon, but right now, I just want to bask in the moment.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 21

    My relaxation doesn¡¯t last long. After a few moments, I hear rushing footsteps in the hall. Kierra moves to intercept them, standing outside the door and keeping anyone from coming inside. Sigh. That¡¯s my cue to get back to work. ¡°You¡¯re going to help me clean this mess up. Some of these materials can be reused.¡±

    I tap Geneva and she hops to her feet. Moving together, we put what can be salvaged into boxes. Half an hour later, I give what remains of my beautiful circle one last look. Then I harden my heart. ¡°Destroy it.¡±

    Geneva jumps, her head nearly hitting the ceiling. Pink light covers her hooves as she lands. The heavy impact splinters the wood beneath her. She follows up with several more stomps. Ah, she looks like she¡¯s having fun. Attached myself to another barbarian, didn¡¯t I?

    It only takes a minute before my circle is an unrecognizable mess. A summoner¡¯s biggest worry is someone stealing their circles, at least while they¡¯re alive. Technique is everything. At the very least, I could teach for some extra income. Not a viable option if someone has it. When it becomes known that I summoned a don, someone else might try to teach my technique.

    ¡°Geo.¡± I grin as she promptly responds to the nickname. I hold out my hand and she grabs it. ¡°Can you do meek and harmless?¡±

    In response, she steps behind me, grabbing my arm with her other hand as she looks up at me with big eyes and an expression that screams innocence. Why? Seriously, why does a being with a coefficient of 1,000+ need to be able to act like this? She¡¯s done it before.

    Shaking my head, I walk out of the room. Kierra is facing down Uncle, Father, and Jac who are yelling for her to let them pass. They come to a sudden halt when they spot us. Kierra steps to the side with a grin so they can have a better view.

    ¡°Everyone, my summoning was successful. I would like to introduce you to Geo, the circle 4 thrall. Say hi to everyone.¡±

    Geneva bites her lip and gives a small wave before moving further behind my back.

    The first one to get their voice working is Father but he doesn¡¯t speak. He bursts into laughter. Loud, belly shaking laughter filled with delight. I can¡¯t help but join in and Kierra adds her light chuckles to the racket.

    ¡°How?¡± Jac finally manages to ask. She steps forward, trying to look around me to see Geneva. ¡°That¡¯s a thrall. And did you say circle 4?¡±

    ¡°Geo, no need to be shy.¡± With my urging she steps forward but keeps her head bowed, taking quick peeks at my family.

    Jac¡¯s eyes are all over her. ¡°What the hell? How did you even¡­everyone knows that thralls only have the physical and mental affinities.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been slacking on your studies. It¡¯s a commonly accepted theory that circle 4 thralls on the verge of evolution gain a third affinity, either fire or earth.¡±

    ¡°An unproven theory.¡±

    ¡°Say that to the proof.¡±

    She looks back to Geo and goes back to loose-jawed silence. I smirk at her and walk past with Geo following behind me. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a hell of a party tonight.¡±

    -

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The Guiness family home is much bigger than the Tome manor. Truly, it¡¯s more of a palace than anything else. We rode outside the city to reach the small hill where their residence sits, as the relatively small Noble Ring of the city couldn¡¯t hold this great property.

    It¡¯s gold. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s actual gold, a serious question when talking about them, but the outside is shiny, the effect enhanced by the hundreds of torches lining the immaculate road leading up to their enormous gate.

    What does it say when their personal road is better than the roads in the kingdom¡¯s capital? And these torches scream dramatic. Have to admit, they¡¯ve got style. When I¡¯m drowning in gold, hopefully, I¡¯m adopting their extravagant methods.

    At the gate, knights dressed in gold armor stop us. We aren¡¯t given a choice when they tell us to disembark. They thoroughly search the carriage before we are allowed back on. No one voices a word of complaint. Powerful people have enemies and as unknowns, frankly, we aren¡¯t above suspicion. Even if they want something from us.

    At the door, servants help us disembark before taking care of our carriage. We¡¯re led into the dining hall which is absolutely filled with people. There has to be at least twice as many nobles than those who attended our first party. I suppose this is the power of a famous last name. Or a bigger house.

    Despite the arrangement of powerful people in the room, the Tome family walk forward with our heads held high, wearing big smiles. It¡¯s probably the first time such has happened in decades. We¡¯ve got a lot to be confident about. More importantly, everyone is anticipating the show. Even Matt, who is busy all the time earning an honest living with his construction work, took the day off to show his support.

    Our entrance is eye-catching. However, their eyes are solely on me. Specifically, on the companions at my sides; Kierra in another one of her modified dresses, Geo on my opposite side in an old dress of Jac¡¯s, a modest white number that makes her brilliant eyes even brighter.

    Marquis Guiness and Maxine are the first to approach us. ¡°Jackal, I¡¯m glad you could make it,¡± the marquis says with a voice filled with new warmth. You¡¯d think the two of them were life-long friends by his tone. ¡°Matthias, this is our first-time meeting. I¡¯ve heard good things. And¡­¡±

    His eyes move to me, then to Geneva. I can see him trying not to look too eager. Can¡¯t blame the man. Someone like him, who mixes with the upper echelons of the kingdom on a daily basis should know exactly how valuable a thrall is. No secret is safe from them. All this time, the Grimoires have held a monopoly on the succubi and now here is an unaffiliated one standing before him. ¡°A new friend?¡±

    ¡°Let me introduce you,¡± I say, unable to help my chest puffing out a bit with pride. I place a hand on the small of Geneva¡¯s back and guide her forward. ¡°This is my contracted elemental, Geo.¡±

    ¡°A pleasure to meet you, marquis.¡±

    She does a perfect courtesy that makes every woman watching feel as graceful as a pig. Or at least, to me. I¡¯d break an ankle trying to do that and the smile she follows up with is heart stopping. Hold on, me. Hugging her right now would not look good for several reasons.

    ¡°The pleasure is all mine. How fascinating. I thought thralls could only be contracted by someone with the physical or mental affinity.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Geo isn¡¯t an ordinary thrall. She¡¯s a circle 4 and also has a fire affinity.¡±

    ¡°I thought third affinity thralls were simply speculation.¡±

    ¡°The marquis is quite knowledgeable about summoning.¡±

    ¡°Clearly, not as much as you are. As expected of someone from the Tome family with such a long connection to the craft.¡±

    Ooo. He knows how to flatter. I swear every member of my family grows an inch taller with that comment. Beside me, Geneva latches onto my arm. ¡°My master is indeed a great summoner. I¡¯m very lucky to belong to her.¡±

    I know I told her to go meek but wow, this is laying it on thick. Even Marquis Guiness is surprised. It¡¯s rare to hear any elemental show complete subservience, let alone one as powerful as a thrall. If he knew she¡¯s actually a don, his wide eyes might actually fall out of his skull.

    I grin at Maxine. ¡°Aren¡¯t you glad to see those supplies put to good use?¡± Maxine is still a little hard to read but I feel more comfortable talking with her rather than her father. Maybe because she¡¯s not yet secure in her position. She¡¯s got the pride of a Guiness but she¡¯s still hungry to prove herself. When we talk, I feel it¡¯s from more equal standings.

    She returns the smile. ¡°Indeed. The Guiness Company will be sure to meet anymore of your needs in the future.¡±

    ¡°Great. In fact, there¡¯s something I want to talk to you about. Care to grab a drink with me?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 22

    The four of us move away and I hear Marquis Guiness engaging the rest of my family in conversation. I grab a drink for myself and Geo. Kierra is even more used to elven brew than I am and never bothers drinking. Unless it¡¯s to play a trick on an unsuspecting merchant eager for information. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind me using you as an excuse. I needed to be alone.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind. And congratulations on your contract. How did you manage to pull that off anyway?¡±

    ¡°I taste good.¡±

    Maxine, who had just taken a drink, sprays the wine back into the glass. Her face is flushed pink as she looks at me with wide eyes. My smile stretches wider. ¡°Succubi feed off their summoner¡¯s mana. She likes the taste.¡± Geneva drives the point home by licking her lips seductively. ¡°Besides that, I¡¯m a good conversationalist. Right, love?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re amusing at least,¡± Kierra says.

    We laugh together. Maxine comes out of her confusion, putting her glass on the tray of a passing server and grabbing a new one. ¡°So, did you bring me over her for normal small talk?¡±

    ¡°You sound a bit hostile. Thought I was doing you a favor, Max. Isn¡¯t it good if your father thinks you have a good working relationship with us?¡±

    Her eyes narrow. ¡°That depends. Do we have a good working relationship?¡±

    ¡°We might. But no, that¡¯s not why I called you over here. I just needed to give him an opportunity.¡±

    ¡°Him?¡±

    I don¡¯t bother answering her question as I spot my target walking across the room. Junior is scowling deeply. By his side, his thrall Fen looks very nervous. Most likely, she can tell Geneva is stronger than her. The young noble by his side is an unknown. Judging from his close proximity and the company he keeps, he¡¯s probably from another powerful house that dwarfs mine, but the lustful way he eyes Geneva grants him instant dislike.

    We turn to face them as they reach us. ¡°Junior!¡± I call with genuine excitement. Seeing his grit teeth, I am filled with happiness. Ah, yes. This is what I was waiting for. ¡°I bet you¡¯re just dying with curiosity so I won¡¯t wait to introduce you. This is Geo¡ª¡±

    ¡°How?¡± he barks out. ¡°You have a fire affinity and a coefficient of 50 at best, so how could you¡ª¡±

    ¡°How disappointing. As a member of the Grimoire family, you should know very well that the coefficients of thralls are between 250 and 500, well within my ability to form a contract with. More so, your family were the ones who formed the theory about the third affinity of thralls¡ª¡±

    ¡°Research you shouldn¡¯t have had access to.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t if Grimoires didn¡¯t talk so loud.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡± He stops himself from probably cursing me out, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. ¡°Whatever. So, you managed to contract a circle 3 thrall. Big deal. I suppose if you can¡¯t beat me, copy me.¡±

    ¡°Circle 3?¡± I scoff. ¡°Don¡¯t compare me to you. Geo, why don¡¯t you make friends with Fen there?¡±

    Geneva raises her arms toward the thrall. She gives a beatific smile but her voice has no room for compromise as she brightly says, ¡°Come here.¡±

    Junior¡¯s jaw drops as Fen moves away from his side and grabs Geneva¡¯s outstretched hands.  ¡°Get back here!¡± he snaps.

    ¡°Geo.¡±

    ¡°Obey Lourianne Tome.¡±

    Fen nods her head and looks at me with anxious eyes. I laugh. ¡°No need to look like that.¡± I hold out a hand and she grabs it. ¡°I know everything that happened the other day had nothing to do with you. An elemental follows the commands of their summoner. Such petty actions could only come from Junior there.¡±

    ¡°Release her,¡± he growls, eyes practically blazing with anger.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± I tap my chin as if I¡¯m thinking. ¡°How about¡­no. At least, not yet. I want to ask her some questions so I¡¯ll be borrowing her for the night.¡± I purposely raise my voice as I notice we¡¯ve gathered a fast-growing crowd. ¡°Really, a woman like this is wasted on you.¡± I give her a once over. ¡°It¡¯s like putting jewels on a pig.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°You damn pervert.¡±

    ¡°Pervert? What exactly do you think I¡¯m going to get up to? I was planning on having a nice cup of tea and comparing their experiences on Burning Earth for my summoning record but I guess the Grimoires think of something different when they take a thrall with them for the night.¡±

    He snorts. ¡°Yeah. You summoned a thrall to talk to her. There¡¯s no point in lying when you flaunt your deviancy.¡± He spits that out with a dramatic jerk of his head in Kierra¡¯s direction who playfully puts a hand over her heart. ¡°Keep your hands off my thrall.¡±

    ¡°I am disappointed you have so little faith in me. It¡¯s possible for someone to contract a succubus without sleeping with them. Geo, tell the man what he wants to know. Speak the truth.¡±

    Geo looks to the ground, feigning embarrassment. ¡°Lou and I have not been together.¡±

    Yet, I add internally. It¡¯s hilarious because that¡¯s the truth. ¡°Should I ask Fen the same question? Somehow, I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to give the same answer. Then again, I could be wrong.¡±

    ¡°Oi!¡±

    ¡°Fen¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut your mouth, Lou!¡±

    ¡°¡ªwhat kind of things does Junior like to do at night? Don¡¯t be shy with the details.¡±

    ¡°I do very little talking,¡± Fen answers immediately. As the higher ranked Geneva gave her an order to obey me, she doesn¡¯t hesitate to do so. And dare I say I see a little enjoyment in her eyes? ¡°Gordon mainly grunts. He¡¯s rather preoccupied thrusting¡ª¡±

    With an angry roar, Junior loses all composure and rushes me. Reacting almost instinctively, I grab the hand reaching out to me and move behind him, twisting it behind his back as my opposite arm goes around his throat. He yelps in pain as I pull the arm.

    ¡°Hey now. What do you think you¡¯re doing? A gentleman doesn¡¯t use violence against women.¡± I toss him away from me, sending him stumbling toward the crowd comprised of the rest of the room who take a collective step back to avoid colliding into him.

    He¡¯s bigger than me but he has no muscle tone. As expected of a spoiled noble. Without his thrall, he¡¯s nothing. ¡°Then again, you¡¯re clearly not a gentleman from what little Fen¡¯s said. And you had the audacity to call me a deviant.¡±

    ¡°You bitch! I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    I grit my teeth as a sudden pressure pushes down on me. Turning my head to the source, I see a neutrally smiling Marquis Guiness watching us. I¡¯ve heard about this. It¡¯s a high-level technique where someone can exude their mana into the air. The sudden concentration translates as weight to people who don¡¯t have large capacities, as their bodies aren¡¯t used to the saturation.

    Thing is, it doesn¡¯t mean anything unless the source has a coefficient over 100 of their target. At the moment, I¡¯ve got 65. Junior may be an ass but last I checked, he had an impressive 130.

    That means the marquis would need at least 230 to affect him. And from the way Junior¡¯s knees are buckling, he has much more than that.

    So, the richest man in the kingdom is also an accomplished caster. Some people just have all the fortune in life. I would know. The pressure should have me buckling but all I feel is a mild discomfort. Another boon of my new body? I fall to a knee anyway to keep up appearances.

    ¡°I would appreciate it if you ceased this disturbance.¡± He¡¯s looking at Junior. Phew. I mean, I don¡¯t particularly care about having a good relationship with them right now but I also don¡¯t want him angry with me. That is a complication no one needs in their lives.

    The pressure disappears as Marquis Guiness retracts his aura. With someone to douse his anger, Junior evaluates his situation and realizes the mess he¡¯s in. The nobles surrounding him whisper to each other. Oh yeah, daddy Grimoire is going to hear all about this. I know he¡¯s come to the same realization when his face pales. Even the guy who walked over with him won¡¯t meet his eyes, doing his best to forget Junior exists.

    Junior spares one look to me and Fen. I glare at him, not attempting to hide a bit of my derision. He makes the first smart decision of the night and walks away, shoving aside members of the crowd in silent anger.

    ¡°Everyone,¡± the marquis announces. ¡°The meal for the evening is finished. If you¡¯ll all follow me to the banquet room.¡± He herds them into the next room, the tension leaking away with them.

    Once the room empties, I laugh. ¡°Saints witness, did any of you see his face? Whew. I haven¡¯t had that much fun in forever.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see my efforts haven¡¯t been in vain.¡± Kierra leans onto my back. ¡°In the future though, anyone who attacks you should at least have three broken bones before you allow them to retreat.¡±

    As expected of my bride. ¡°That¡¯s a bit too much with all those witnesses around.¡±

    Maxine gives me a strange look. Yes, I know what I said. I meant it. If we weren¡¯t at a party surrounded by several influential people, Junior might not have been able to walk away. That look she¡¯s giving me says she¡¯s reevaluating me.

    Good. You have no idea who, or what, you¡¯re dealing with.

    ¡°Shall we go eat?¡± Maxine finally says. ¡°Our chef has prepared several fish from the Dragon Fire Sea. We are pioneering a new kind of preservation magic that makes them as fresh as the day they were caught.¡±

    Her plan is to simply go with it, huh? Taking a cue from her father, she seems to want to stay out of these events. At least until they know which side is going to win. Fine by me. Wonder what the marquis will do once I come out on top? Guarantee no one will brush me off again.

    ¡°Lead the way.¡±

    We follow her into the dining room. In the hall, I lock eyes with Father who waited for me. Our eyes meet and he gives me a vicious grin. No words are said but I know he enjoyed that every bit as much as I did.

    Along with someone else. Fen is walking behind Geneva silently. She hasn¡¯t said a word but I caught her smiling to herself earlier and she¡¯s watching me as we move down the halls. I never factored her into my plans, which is stupid. Despite being contracted to Junior, she has her own motivations. Motivations that don¡¯t seem to align with Junior¡¯s best interest.

    It¡¯s going to be an interesting conversation tonight.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 23

    ¡°Haah~¡±

    I let out a deep sigh as Kierra falls with me onto the bed. After Junior¡¯s meltdown, the other nobles took quite an interest in me and Geo. Add Kierra to the mix and we were irresistible. I spent the rest of the night being flattered and fawned over. I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t take long before it gets old but right now, my ego¡¯s sudden inflation is very comfortable.

    Now all the commotion¡¯s over and it¡¯s back to business. Geneva and Fen are sitting in front of us, one looking much more nervous than the other. I prop my head up with a hand, unable to stop myself from grinning as Fen squirms. ¡°So. Shall we do some proper introductions?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need, Lou.¡± Geneva¡¯s tail flicks back and forth. ¡°Fendelheim is one of my servants that has been contracted onto this plane.¡±

    Fen jumps as she hears her full name. Jeez, Geneva. Casually throwing around your subordinate¡¯s full name. That¡¯s a powerful weapon against any elemental. Perhaps that¡¯s the point? Letting Fen know that whatever belongs to her, belongs to me.

    She really knows how to impress a girl.

    Poor Fen though.

    ¡°Good. That makes this simple then.¡± I reach behind me and wrap Kierra¡¯s arm about my waist. I¡¯m so used to sleeping this way I don¡¯t think I could sleep soundly on my own anymore. When I was working on my circle, it was more like I passed out after working for too long rather than actual rest. ¡°I have questions. You¡¯re going to answer them.¡± Ah, being in charge is great. No one ever used to listen to me.

    Now, Fen nods her head obediently.

    ¡°Good. First question. What are the details of your contract with Gordon Grimoire Jr. and any restrictions put on you by the Grimoire family?¡±

    ¡°My contract states that I am to obey the orders of Junior with the exceptions that I cannot be ordered to go against higher ranked succubi, I cannot be ordered to harm myself, and they must pay a price for what I deem special information.¡±

    My lip curls. The fact that she has to expressly say that she can¡¯t be ordered to harm herself says a lot more about the Grimoires than I can.

    ¡°Furthermore, Gordon Senior had his virtue Belolial order me to obey his orders above those of Junior and to never divulge any secrets of the Grimoire family.¡±

    ¡°Geneva, that Bell something?¡±

    ¡°Another servant.¡±

    I¡¯m going to need to have her draw a family tree or whatever else they use. ¡°Good news is, with Geneva here, you can throw those orders out the window. So do that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lourianne.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Lou. Now!¡± I pull a pillow close and lay down, rubbing my hands with anticipation. ¡°Tell me a story.¡±

    She does and wow, is it quite the story. She unloads every dark secret she¡¯s ever witnessed at Junior¡¯s side. Some of it makes me laugh, some of it makes me cringe, and some of it makes me want to beat the whole lot of them until they¡¯re just one big bloodstain. It lasts for so long, Geneva briefly leaves to grab a tray of snacks.

    By the time she¡¯s finished, several hours have passed and I¡¯m ready to kill someone. The Grimoires have outright abused the mental affinity, all the way from manipulating the actions of certain nobles to seducing women into their beds. High level casters have some defense as the sheer volume of their mana acts as a natural deterrent and royals are off limits as the Royal Interrogator has a well-developed mental affinity but other than that? People are fair game. More than that, they may as well be livestock.

    ¡°I knew they were bad but¡­¡± Late as it is, I should be drowsy but this conversation has me wide awake.

    ¡°This is what happens when one goes unchallenged for so long,¡± Kierra says from behind me. Her voice is also tinged with rare traces of anger. ¡°They¡¯re drunk off power and believe they cannot be touched by the consequences of their actions. And those merchants wonder why we have banned them from our continent. Elves wouldn¡¯t treat their enemies in such a way, let alone their interests.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about that bastard¡¯s harem.¡± Fen had a lot to say about the head of the Grimoire family. He sounded very self-righteous proclaiming he didn¡¯t sleep with his elemental. Forgot to mention the harem of young girls he keeps in his house, lured there by the ¡®charms¡¯ of his virtue.

    The worst part? Because of Belolial, the girls want to be there. Any will they had to live their own lives has been destroyed and replaced with an all-consuming need to serve that twisted man.

    Compared to what Senior has done, both personally and in his capacity as the king¡¯s advisor, Junior is nothing. He¡¯s still a piece of shit, birthed from a piece a shit in a long line of shits, but right now, I¡¯m thinking he can still be redeemed. Senior? Someone needs to kill him, burn him, and throw his ashes into a hole too deep to see the bottom of.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I take a deep breath, burying my anger and clearing my thoughts. ¡°Though I¡¯m a lot more motivated now, the goal is the same. The Grimoires need to be destroyed. Fen, you¡¯re the insider. Tell me. What do you think would be the swiftest and easiest way to destroy them?¡±

    ¡°That depends. Do you care about the fallout?¡±

    ¡°Fallout?¡±

    Fen leans forward. ¡°Lou, a noble is not only their house. They are the people they are allied with, the people they do business with, and the people who depend on them. If you want to take out the Grimoires in one fell swoop, you can simply have Mistress order Belolial to deliver a message to all succubi contracted to the family and have them eradicate the Grimoire line. But it would cause catastrophic fallout throughout the kingdom.

    ¡°Similarly, if you expose their secrets and simply have the succubi withdraw their support, anyone and everyone connected to them will be covered in the stink. They¡¯ll be torn apart, whether they¡¯re victims or not.¡±

    Cheh. Dammit, she¡¯s right. They¡¯re too connected. As satisfying as I think it¡¯d be to simply turn that house upside down, that might cause even more damage and the saints know they¡¯ve caused enough. I have to be better than them. No, I refuse to be anything but better than them. ¡°Do you have a suggestion?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Replace Gordon Senior with someone loyal to you. Then remake the Grimoire family from the inside, using the succubi to monitor them.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    My first, instinctive reaction is to shout no but I hold back the urge. The thought of being connected to the Grimoires in any way, shape, or form makes me want to hurl but I tell myself to calm down and think about it. She¡¯s right. It¡¯d be the most effective way to control the situation. Not to mention, I also wanted to obtain their political clout. This way, I not only get that, but I¡¯ll also have their resources. Really, I have no room to argue.

    Still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking, dedia,¡± Kierra murmurs beside my ear. ¡°However, just because you spare their lives, doesn¡¯t mean you have to spare them pain. In fact, this way, their suffering will be longer and more creative than simply ending their lives.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± I latch onto the word creative. She¡¯s right. Leaving them alive opens a slew of options. ¡°I could turn them all into celibate priests. Or eunuchs. Oh! I can have them change their name back to the Masons!¡± I burst into laughter. ¡°You¡¯re right, Fen. This is a much better idea.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you approve.¡± She gives me a slight smile. ¡°I would like to offer up Gordon Jr. as a candidate for the next head of the family.¡±

    My smile wilts. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you hold loyalty to that worm?¡±

    ¡°No. Simply that he is the best choice. The other members of the family, along with their allies, already see him as the successor. More importantly, Junior is a combination of ambitious and spineless that is easy to manipulate. Even with my limited power.¡±

    Her manipulation eases my anger a little. I do have the longest connection to Junior, though not a happy one. It would be faster to use him rather than scouting out someone better. ¡°On one condition. He doesn¡¯t get to be happy. He doesn¡¯t get to enjoy any benefits being head of a family gets him. Not until I say so. You can take that however you want.¡±

    ¡°I look forward to it.¡± Her expression reflects that. No telling what she¡¯s had to endure within that family¡¯s grasp. Paybacks are sweet and hopefully bloody.

    ¡°And now that the business is finished¡ª¡±

    I yelp as I¡¯m suddenly turned onto my back as Kierra climbs on top of me. I dart a look to the side at the two succubi who are leaning forward in their seats with interest. ¡°Uh, hold on¡ª¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯ve given you your space. Now, you¡¯re going to give me what I want.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡± I¡¯m cut off by her lips. I can¡¯t help but indulge her and it doesn¡¯t take long before I¡¯m swept away. Her hands skillfully undress me before I realize it. She breaks away to take off her dress and I remember our audience. ¡°At least¡­send¡­them out,¡± I say between gasps, face hot.

    ¡°Ignore the pets.¡±

    Pets? No pets look so interested watching their owners getting it on.

    ¡°Woof.¡±

    ¡°Meow.¡±

    Saints damn you two, that was perfect. Geneva¡¯s tail is waving back and forth like a hound as she grins broadly while Fen is curled up in her chair with a sly smile, eyes narrowed as she stares at me. I can¡¯t be mad at them.

    ¡°Besides, the mind stealers serve a purpose. Geneva, I presume that you can make people ignore what happens in this room?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Master.¡±

    I catch onto what she¡¯s saying. ¡°You want¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Her eyes are practically glowing as she stares down at me with a flush face. ¡°There¡¯s a reason why we insisted on moving out of your father¡¯s manor. Being on the road, being here. It presented some complications¡­¡± Her finger trails down my chest as she speaks. I jump as it stops between my legs. ¡°But now that we have such capable servants to prevent them, I see no reason to hold back.¡±

    I swallow thickly as the finger begins to circle. ¡°You, uh, sure abo¡ªahhn!¡± My hands clench the sheets as two fingers suddenly enter me.

    ¡°What nonsense are you saying? Even if the pets weren¡¯t here, tonight would be my limit. Watching you strut around with such a proud look amongst those nobles. Too cute for words.¡±

    It¡¯s hard to respond with what she¡¯s doing to me.

    ¡°While Geneva is handling the household, Fen. Do what you do.¡±

    Something strange happens. It feels almost like¡­a second hand is touching me. I know there¡¯s not because the ¡®pets¡¯ are still in their seats and Kierra¡¯s other hand is busy fondling my chest. Doesn¡¯t change what I¡¯m feeling. It¡¯s as if ghostly fingers are following my wife¡¯s every stroke. An echo of pleasure¡­

    Oh, hells. Fen! This must be what succubi do. It¡¯s one of the few pieces of information the Grimoires, soon to be Masons, never let slip.

    I turn my head to see Fen eyeing me knowingly. This little¡ª

    The thought is cut off as the echo becomes much stronger. My body quakes from the pleasure as Kierra pulls me closer, increasing her tempo. Frickin¡¯ elf looks amused watching me grind against her helplessly. As the tension mounts, my hands grab her arm but I¡¯m so lost I have no idea if I¡¯m trying to urge her on or push her away.

    I climax with a squeal, nails digging into Kierra¡¯s arm as everything tenses. I¡¯m riding the crest of the wave with bated breath. Then, as I¡¯m coming down, I¡¯m suddenly pushed back to the top.

    ¡°Ooooohhh,¡± I moan as I go through my pleasure for a second time. This time, there¡¯s nothing dull about the echo. If anything, it¡¯s sharper. Two for one. No wonder people are obsessed with succubi, this is fucking¡ª

    I scream as my orgasm restarts again. What in the actual hell!? How is this possible? Fen¡¯s not even touching me but my whole body can feel her. She¡¯s not just replicating the pleasure, she¡¯s making it stronger. How long¡ª

    Oh, saints preserve me, again! I¡¯ve completely lost control of my body, becoming a mindless thrashing creature as the pleasure rushes through¡ª

    ¡°Ohhhh, fuck! Ahhh¡­I caaaan¡¯t¡­¡± Dammit, it wasn¡¯t even over! It¡¯s like two orgasms hit me at the same time. These saints damned devils. If they keep this up, I¡¯m gonna¡ª

    My voice reaches a pitch I didn¡¯t think it could as it. Fucking. Starts. Again. She¡¯s pouring more power into it. I lose all hope of controlling my body. I¡¯m just a lump of feeling. And my wife hasn¡¯t stopped¡ª

    Saints give me strength, if this continues¡ª

    I¡¯m going to die. This is going to kill me¡­

    -

    Sometime later, I finally come down from the high, collapsing onto the bed without an ounce of strength. My vision is blurry at the edges but I can clearly make out Kierra licking her fingers. My head lolls to the side and I see the succubi watching as intently as before. I feel Fen¡¯s grin is especially mocking.

    My tongue feels more like lead than muscle but I gather my strength to move it. ¡°Bad¡­kitty.¡±

    She guffaws. Of course a woman that beautiful has a sexy laugh, low and dark.

    ¡°This is no time to get distracted.¡± Kierra turns my head so I¡¯m looking at her again. I love that smile but it¡¯s really scary when it¡¯s aimed at me. ¡°Hope you¡¯re ready for round two.¡±

    ¡°Nooo¡­¡± Are you kidding me? I can¡¯t go through that again. Seriously thought I was going to die. That may or may not happen but something¡¯s definitely going to break. Or tear. Muscles are not designed to be abused like this.

    ¡°Shh. No worries.¡± The hand holding my cheek glows a bright pale green. A warmth runs through my body, easing my aches and filling me with energy.

    This is both exciting and completely terrifying.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine if you¡¯re worried about having others know of our little secret. We can go like this all night.¡± No, no, come on! I¡¯ll seriously die. Maybe not physically but mentally, I can¡¯t.

    She leans down and whispers against my lips. ¡°Or you can give me what I want.¡±

    Frickin¡¯ deviant elf. I spare the audience one more look. Two people are watching, the whole room is going to stink, and we¡¯re probably going to destroy more furniture but whatever. If it¡¯s going to be like this, I¡¯d rather be the person dishing it out than taking it.

    With a thought, I relax and return to my elemental form. I hear a growl followed by a yelp and a crash. I turn to see Fen on the ground with Geneva¡¯s tail wrapped around her throat. She¡¯s watching me with slit pupils and drool leaking from the corner of her mouth.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind her,¡± Geneva says. ¡°She just got a bit excited. Please, continue.¡±

    ¡­I¡¯ll ask later.

    My wife is massaging my chest, silently urging me to hurry up. Knowing her, it won¡¯t be this gentle for much longer. Concentrating, I think on what she wants. As always, a string of numbers flows through my mind and then my body begins to move.

    A soft gasp is almost masked by the bed creaking as I assume my new form. Kierra is breathing heavily with an excited look on her face. ¡°What a good girl.¡± Her expression suddenly turns fierce as she looks to the succubi. ¡°Stay out of this,¡± she growls.

    Geneva raises her hands in surrender.

    She makes a pleased sound before turning back to me. The elf actually licks her lips like she¡¯s staring at a steak rather than a hairy troll.

    I grab her face with one hand as I sit up, reversing our positions. She lies back without a fight. Rather, she looks happy holding my larger hand in both of hers, audibly sniffing me with a blissed look. I don¡¯t comprehend it but this form is like opiates for her. Never fails.

    Her long legs barely wrap around my thick waist as I settle between them. I grind against her, loving the breathless little moans she lets out.

    She threatened to torture me all night. You¡¯re going to regret that.

    I turn to Geneva and she gives me an understanding nod.

    Hehe.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 24

    Like I thought, we broke the bed. Stupid mattress is too small for this humongous body of mine anyway. Stretched out, my feet hang off the end of it and the covers are too short to cover me completely.

    Kierra is unconcerned. Sprawled out over my broad chest, she¡¯s wearing a messy grin as she drifts through dreamland without a care in the world. It¡¯s a rare thing for me to wake up before her. I¡¯d normally be eager to get moving after waking up, but after last night, I¡¯m not in a rush to do anything. And it¡¯s not bad watching her sleep for once. It¡¯s a rare thing to see her completely relaxed and unguarded.

    ¡°Good morning, Lou.¡±

    I turn my head to see Geneva still in her chair. Fen is still at her feet though she is considerably calmer. Have those two been awake all night? I try to ask but all that comes out is ¡°Grrrooink¡±. Ah, forgot I¡¯m a troll.

    ¡°I can understand you.¡±

    ¡°Arrf?¡± She speaks troll?

    ¡°Mental affinity. For me, your surface thoughts are practically being broadcasted. It¡¯s the same as listening to you speak with my ears.¡±

    Useful. Slightly unsettling, but useful.

    ¡°I knew you were something incredible Lou but I didn¡¯t expect you¡¯d have the same ability as high-level succubi. Taking the form of another creature. Are you even human?¡±

    She chuckles to herself. I¡¯ve been asking myself that same question. My shapeshifting ability is one of the main reasons I wanted to form a contract with a succubus, besides my revenge.

    ¡°Shapeshifting is a common ability amongst planewalkers. After all, it¡¯s easier to put a summoner at ease when you can take a familiar form. The rules of it are the same amongst them. Changing your own form within the confines of your species requires a strong understanding of the physical affinity. Completely changing your form requires an incredibly high understanding of both the physical and water affinity, but that is physically. Adopting that race¡¯s attributes entirely requires physical, water, and the celestial affinity.

    ¡°It took me several centuries to master my own abilities. No offense meant my summoner, but someone with your low coefficient and clear inexperience with casting shouldn¡¯t be able to pull off such a flawless transformation, especially so quickly. But you seem to be able to do it instinctively¡­¡±

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    The question in her tone is obvious. I¡¯ve been having similar thoughts. It¡¯s a mystery we¡¯re going to explore together. As I thought, Geneva was a great choice.

    ¡°I do love a good mystery. You are full of surprises, Lou. Even your wife. An elf with a troll fetish. I¡¯ve lived a long time but I¡¯ve never seen it. She¡¯s more enthusiastic than most. Truly amusing.¡±

    She chuckles. I try to laugh with her but it comes out as a series of snorts. Kierra twitches. As her arm begins to wander, I think she¡¯s going to wake up. I jump as it slides between my legs to wrap around my limp member. My wife makes a pleased sound as she goes back to sleep.

    Geneva laughs louder, this time Fen joining in. ¡°Pffthahaha! Master is truly great. If only you could see what¡¯s going through her mind.¡±

    I have a pretty good idea what she¡¯s thinking. Heh, knew what was going through her mind when I married her. Sigh. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to be getting up for a while. My stomach growls in complaint. Geneva, will you be a friend and get me breakfast?

    ¡°I¡¯d be delighted but¡­ah, I think you may have to disturb Master. There seems to be a commotion going on.¡±

    ¡°Grrrrr.¡± Commotion? Something tells me that isn¡¯t good, a feeling that¡¯s reinforced as the two succubi get to their feet with serious expressions.

    ¡°Lou, Gordon Senior has just crashed into the manor with several dozen members of the city garrison. They¡¯re in the process of securing rooms. It won¡¯t be long before one of the servants squeals¡­mm. Yes, he¡¯s on his way to this room right now with four others.¡±

    Talk about a wake-up call. I lift Kierra off me, ignoring her unhappy whine as I roll off the bed. I¡¯m already in my elemental form by the time I get to my feet and in the next second, I¡¯m human again. ¡°How much time?¡± I ask as I move to the closet.

    ¡°About a minute. He¡¯s really hurrying.¡±

    ¡°Belolial with him?¡±

    ¡°Mm. She seems quite excited to see me.¡± From the look on her face, I somehow doubt that¡¯s the right word, but I¡¯m too distracted to respond, pulling a nightgown over my head. Not the most dignified appearance to show my enemy but not much more I can do with less than a minute.

    I can hear loud arguing and trooping footsteps coming down the hall. There¡¯s a crash, suggesting a scuffle, and then the door is kicked open.

    Gordon Grimoire enters the room, his black robe lined with red tight against his powerful frame, an immaculately groomed barbarian as he tosses his heavy glare across the room. At his side is a woman made of black stone, with two thick horns curving backward over her head.

    That¡¯s the only way I can describe her. It¡¯s as if someone sculpted a masterpiece and then the old gods breathed life into it. Where her eyes would be are two orange pools that swim and sway. It¡¯s a rough and untouchable beauty, but beauty it still is. They seem to burn brighter as they look at me, something Gordon doesn¡¯t notice from her place at his back.

    Uncle bursts into the room but is caught by the two soldiers at the door. ¡°Gordon, you bastard! Don¡¯t think you can get away with this! The king will hear about¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut that idiot up,¡± Senior says without turning around. ¡°Throw him out and secure the house. No one leaves. I¡¯ll deal with them later.¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 25

    I wince as a soldier punches Uncle in the gut, doubling him over. Then he and his partner cooperate to throw him out despite his struggles. The commotion continues in the hallway, growing in intensity until it all suddenly goes quiet. I can¡¯t help the deep frown that comes to my face but Gordon doesn¡¯t flinch.

    His nose wrinkles. ¡°It smells like a stable in here. I know the Tome family are little more than animals but this is simply disgusting.¡±

    Oi, bastard. What do you know? That¡¯s the smell of love. ¡°Uncle is right. You¡¯ve gone too far. Enlisting the help of the city garrison to raid the home of a noble, no matter if they¡¯re a minor house or not, is inexcusable.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. This incident ends here. Thank the saints, Lourianne Tome. You have a choice on how this ends. I could simply destroy this dying house with one fell swoop but it seems your bloodline isn¡¯t entirely worthless.¡± His gaze flicks to Geneva. ¡°I can arrange a marriage for you and my son. Bringing our families together would be entirely preferable to being forgotten, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    It takes formidable willpower not to hurl as he throws out his ultimatum. Marry Junior? Saints preserve me. I¡¯d rather be buried alive in a mass grave with putrid bodies.

    ¡°Moooaahhh.¡±

    We both look over to the collapsed bed where a barely covered Kierra raises her head. She looks to the room with a pout. Haaah--------~ Her pout wouldn¡¯t lose to Geneva¡¯s but its rarity gives it extra heart-stopping power.

    ¡°Lou¡­get this idiot out of here and come back to bed.¡±

    She sounds sulky, which is completely unlike her. My wife is adorable.

    ¡°Insolent whore!¡± Gordon Senior growls. ¡°Don¡¯t think because the Guiness family is interested in you, you¡¯re something special. We¡¯ll see how proud you are tied in my basement. I¡¯ll get all those secrets out of you. Belolial, seize that thrall.¡±

    Yeah, okay. Insulting my wife? I could kill you for that alone. But before I can say anything, Belolial drops to her knees and plants her forehead to the floor. ¡°This one humbly greets the lady.¡±

    ¡°Always such a polite child.¡±

    Senior¡¯s frown is perfect right now. Artists would cast his face and pass it down to their students as a reference for the emotion confusion. ¡°Belolial!¡± he snaps with more force but she doesn¡¯t move an inch.

    His hand reaches for one of her horns but a black something whips out and knocks his hand away. ¡°Hm. Even without her uniqueness, my summoner is of a much better quality than you. To think such a man is the head of the most prominent summoner family.¡±

    Gordon Senior looks at Geneva with suspicion. ¡°You¡­are not a normal thrall. Who are you?¡±

    ¡°My name is Geo.¡±

    ¡°Geo. I suppose you have a connection to Lady Geneva? Would explain why my servant is glued to the floor.¡± He looks down at Belolial with a sneer. ¡°Would you enlighten me to the orders you are under? I have business here but I would prefer to not offend the Lady.¡±

    ¡°Too late, Gordon Grimoire.¡± Geneva¡¯s tail whips behind her lazily. ¡°As for orders, all you need to know is that Belolial cannot aide you against me. Handle your business yourself, if you are still able.¡±

    ¡°You think me incapable of fighting off a mere thrall?¡± The air becomes heavy as he releases mana into the air. ¡°I am a graduate of the Grand Hall. I¡¯ll break you in half.¡±

    ¡°Please. Do try your best. Ready your spells, I won¡¯t interrupt.¡±

    He watches her dubiously for several tense moments before shrugging off his robe, exposing a broad chest covered in thick red hair. Jeez, the man could pose as a troll. He grunts and his already impressive muscles gains more definition, a red glow covering his body.

    ¡°Um¡­¡± I say while stepping closer to Geneva as Senior continues muttering to himself. ¡°Not that I¡¯m worried about you losing but is it a good idea to let him cast?¡± I don¡¯t want to see her hurt.

    She waves away my concern. ¡°It¡¯s fine. More importantly, this is a teaching moment. Tell me what you know about the physical affinity.¡±

    ¡°Anything alive.¡±

    She gives me a look I remember from my tutors. ¡°How succinct. But you are not wrong, which is why it is also known as the life affinity. Specifically, it is the manipulation of anything organic, which encompasses more than you can imagine. It¡¯s complicated for two reasons; even the tiniest of life is incredibly complicated in its design and life resists being deformed. It¡¯s easiest for a physical caster to affect themselves. I believe it¡¯s called buffing? Usually done before a fight to avoid that.¡±

    She points to Senior, who is still casting. I can see him changing, slowly growing in height, the skin over his hands becoming darker. ¡°The man is vulnerable right now and if I didn¡¯t allow him time to buff, he wouldn¡¯t be able to show half his ability.¡±

    ¡°Why is it taking so long?¡±

    ¡°He has to be careful. He¡¯s altering his own body, after all. One wrong variable or coefficient can kill him or make an irreversible change.¡±

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    ¡°Ah.¡± I mentally file away the information. All good things to know as I¡¯ll have to learn this ¡®buffing¡¯ myself. ¡°Then don¡¯t you need time to, er, buff?¡±

    Geneva chuckles. ¡°Please. When you have been doing this for as long as I have, simple buffing is the same as breathing.¡±

    How long have you been doing this? There are accounts of her being summoned over a hundred years ago. Kierra is older than she looks too. She had a whole military career before being locked away in the forest for over twenty years, so she has a few decades on me as well.

    ¡­do I have a thing for older women?

    A roar draws my attention back to Gordon Senior. Ugh. He looks different. The man has gained nearly a meter in height, coming dangerously close to hitting the ceiling. His red hair has grown out, fanning about his shoulders like the mane of a lion.

    His prominent features are even more exaggerated and his muscle tone has reached comical proportions, tears appearing across his pants. Saints, don¡¯t let those fall apart. Combined with the deep red aura surrounding him, he looks like something demonic.

    ¡°Battle Frenzy!¡± he barks in a voice deeper than his own. A spell circle made of red mana appears in front of him before winking out.

    Geneva laughs. ¡°An incantation! Only imps use those, haha! In case you¡¯re wondering, incantations are a memory crutch. A caster ties a spell to their words. As it becomes ingrained, they can forego solving a spell, the words being enough to manifest a pre-established event.¡±

    ¡°Sounds useful.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but it destroys a caster¡¯s foundations. And what happens when you need to adjust the spell? Like I said, it¡¯s a crutch. One you will not be using, I hope.¡±

    I swallow. ¡°Of course not. Would you put me on the same level as the Grimoires?¡±

    ¡°As expected of my brilliant summoner.¡± Her smile has an edge to it. Ah, I feel like I just made my life harder but how could I use them when she basically said they¡¯re for idiots?

    ¡°Enough words!¡± Senior bellows. ¡°You will regret underestimating me.¡±

    The floorboards beneath him snap and then¡­he disappears. Only to appear less than a second later in front of Geneva. There¡¯s a loud clap and I see her holding one his giant fists, a soft pink glow around her fingers.

    What? He¡¯s three times her size. How did she stop him so easily?

    From Senior¡¯s roar, he¡¯s wondering the same thing.

    I stumble back as they exchange blows. I know they are fighting because I can hear the claps of Geneva deflecting his blows, without moving an inch at that, but I can¡¯t track their limbs. This has to be some kind of trick. I mean, they¡¯re right in front of me. How can I not see something that¡¯s right there?

    ¡°That¡¯s enough, I think.¡±

    ¡°Kuuaaagghh!¡±

    Gordon falls to his knees, holding his stomach. The red aura surrounding him disappears as he slowly starts to shrink. ¡°How¡­¡± he wheezes before coughing up blood.

    ¡°I suppose it wasn¡¯t bad for a human but still terrible technique. Adding more muscle is good for show but terribly inefficient. Oh, Lou. Right now, because he¡¯s taken significant damage, the spell is using his remaining mana to reverse the changes and heal him. Necessary for any good buff lest you be left looking like a malformed ape.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lou¡­¡± my disgruntled wife calls, unhappy that her cuddling has been interrupted. The fighting wasn¡¯t enough to make her look up let alone get out of bed.

    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± More lessons later, I suppose. ¡°Geneva, do the thing.¡±

    ¡°Belolial, you are to obey Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lady.¡± Bellolial stands and faces me with those strange eyes. I can¡¯t help my curiosity and grab her arm. Huh. It doesn¡¯t feel like stone at all. It¡¯s silky on the surface and has plenty of give, just like skin. She takes my probing without a word but I can feel her evaluating me.

    Clearing my throat, I step back. ¡°Ah, sorry about that. We¡¯ve got work to do. Him. Break his mind,¡± I say with no mercy. He doesn¡¯t deserve any. ¡°Leave him angry, scared, and paranoid. Order the soldiers to leave and escort him back to his house. If anyone asked what happened, you were unable to gain control of Geo, not Geneva, because of some ancient agreement between succubi to not take control of others from different factions. Or something. Feel free to get creative. Keep him at the house but don¡¯t stop him from being crazy. Crazy is good.¡±

    ¡°As you say,¡± Bellolial answers with a bow. Her voice is deep but pleasant. Listening to it makes me think of sitting at the base of a boulder on a hot day, letting it shield you from the heat. It¡¯s the kind of sound that can put you at ease. ¡°Forgive me for any rudeness, but may I inquire into what is to be done about my contract?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°I presume you intend to have the royal family arrest Gordon Grimoire Senior. It will no doubt result in a struggle in which they are forced to kill him. At which point I will lose my connection to this plane and be forced away. It may be presumptuous for me to say but I would like to stay and serve you, great summoner.¡±

    She gives another bow. I¡¯ve never seen anyone this polite. Unlike the barbarians around me, Belolial might be a good influence. And as a virtue, she¡¯s more than capable. ¡°Sounds like a fantastic idea to me, but I don¡¯t have the capacity to contract¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a way.¡±

    I whip my head around to Geneva. ¡°What?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°My master, you really are a baby summoner. There¡¯s a little trick amongst summoners on different planes. It¡¯s called link summoning. An elemental who is connected to you can contract another elemental. The downsides? She would be contracted to me and hold no obligation to you. Very risky unless you have bargained for complete obedience.¡±

    My jaw drops as she talks. What the, why does no one know about this? ¡°Why does no one know about this?¡± The question slips out in my disbelief.

    ¡°Easy. Just like you, we don¡¯t get that mana back. Weaker elementals who don¡¯t have as much strength and blindly swear their allegiance don¡¯t want to be used as power banks for summoners to contract larger elementals. The information is guarded by stronger beings to protect the weaker ones under their protection. Given your attitude on summoning, I believe I can trust you with it.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± I understand the fear and yes, it shouldn¡¯t be advertised. But ohhoho, what I can do with this information. ¡°Geneva¡­this isn¡¯t an order. Would you be willing to contract Belolial to allow her to stay on this plane?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Bell has always been a good worker. Once the contract is broken, you can come to us but you¡¯ll have to change your form. A word of advice. Lou seems to like more¡­soft features.¡± She looks between Senior, Fen, and herself before raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°I will keep it in mind.¡±

    ¡°Great. Now that all of you have that straightened out, Fen, you can accompany Bell on her way back to the house. A little suspicious if you keep hanging around anyway. Feel free to harass the soldiers so they won¡¯t feel brazen enough to simply walk into our house. Geneva, you can handle the family, right?¡± I ask while shrugging off my nightgown.

    ¡°Mm. I think we should wait a day or so for the madness to kick in. Bring you something to eat?¡±

    In my troll form, I can only huff in agreement. I take two lumbering steps to the bed before carefully lowering myself on top of Kierra. Anyone else would feel crushed by my gigantic weight. She takes it with a little happy sigh as I mold our bodies together.

    I close my eyes as the succubi go to work and a commotion starts again.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 26

    A few hours later, I¡¯m in front of a full-length mirror with Kierra tying the strings of my vest for me. She¡¯s humming as she does something I could easily do myself but I don¡¯t dare interrupt. She¡¯s in a great mood, face lightly flushed green with a small smile. No need to ruin her fun.

    The door opens and Geneva steps in, slapping it closed with her tail. ¡°Your uncle is ready to move, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Mm, thanks.¡± Sigh. Even though it would be better to let Senior stew for a bit and boil over, Uncle and Father are eager for an audience with the king. After Fen and Geneva chased the startled soldiers out on the heels of Senior, taking my orders to harass them very liberally, they liberated my family from the kitchen. The soldiers hadn¡¯t been kind to them.

    They were in the midst of despair, certain that Senior would destroy their minds and leave them as destitute beggars on the street. Then the monster disappeared with his tail between his legs. They don¡¯t understand it, but they are eager to make their move before he comes back. The Tome family is going to the palace in full force to make our case.

    ¡°Time to get moving.¡± I grab Kierra¡¯s hands that are still fiddling with the vest. ¡°It¡¯s great.¡±

    ¡°We should go shopping soon. I¡¯m not one for posturing but someone of your status shouldn¡¯t be outshined by these wealthy nobles, as something tells me we¡¯ll be mixing with them a bit more.¡±

    ¡°Ehhhh.¡± Shopping¡¯s always been a pain. Father insists on buying clothes that match our family colors. Not only are the dyes rare, they rarely look good. ¡°I suppose¡­¡±

    ¡°You seem unenthusiastic. Don¡¯t worry. I know what you¡¯re thinking and I already have a plan. Might require a bit of a trip however.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± I run a hand through my hair. ¡°I think you¡¯re right.¡± When I¡¯ve changed so much, it seems right I change my appearance. ¡°I¡¯d look better with braids.¡±

    She smiles. ¡°The braids meant for the head family of the Tome house?¡±

    Hah. As if Uncle has more authority than I do. Kierra alone could destroy the Tome family. ¡°Exactly those. Though head of the Tome family might be a little too small for me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my wife.¡±

    Terrible influence. ¡°Let¡¯s get this charade over with.¡±

    -

    The sun is starting to fall as our two carriages arrive outside the gates of the palace. Royal knights stop us, two standing in front of it with their hands on their swords while four others practically pull us off the seats.

    ¡°My name is Javarius Tome. I demand an audience with the king. His lapdog has gone too far! Are you listening to me?¡±

    Uncle continues barking. The knights ignore him for the most part but one of them runs off, probably to alert someone. Fifteen minutes later, he comes jogging back out. ¡°Advisor Lightam will see you now.¡±

    An advisor is quite a step down from the king but from the unpleasant look on the knight¡¯s face, that¡¯s the best we¡¯re going to get. Uncle settles down and we follow the knight around to the side entrance of the palace.

    The inside isn¡¯t as extravagant as I imagined it would be. Nothing but gray bricks and mounted torches as far as I can see. The only sign of their wealth are the large glass windows in the hall.

    That changes as we move deeper into the palace. The stone floor is covered by thick carpeting. Tapestries hang from the walls. They glimmer in a curious way so I sneakily run my fingers over one. I almost can¡¯t believe it but given how hard the threads are and the way they shine, I think these threads are made from precious metals. Just one of these is worth enough to live off of for a year.

    ¡°Stop touching,¡± Jac hisses as she discretely pulls me away from it. She frowns as I shrug her hand off. Really, do I look like a kid? ¡°We¡¯re about to meet one of the advisors. Show some decorum.¡±

    I scowl. ¡°Already met an advisor today. Wasn¡¯t that big of a deal.¡±

    She gives me a sideways look. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what happened in that room. Geo¡¯s story is¡­interesting at best. But no matter what, you can¡¯t take that into this room. Gordon Senior may have been an advisor but everyone knows he was simply the king¡¯s lapdog. People are afraid of his succubi prying out their secrets so they give him leeway. The other advisors are different. They¡¯ve wielded their power from the founding of this kingdom and are nothing to make light of.¡±

    Hmph. You think I don¡¯t know that? Unlike you, that alone isn¡¯t enough to leave me shaking in my boots. Beside me, Kierra huffs. I agree with you completely. ¡°Be sure to keep it in mind.¡±

    From her frown, I can see she wants to respond but it¡¯s too late. The knight opens a pair of large double doors and leads us into a meeting room dominated by a large circular table.

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    I¡¯m surprised to see Marquis Guiness standing beside the advisor we¡¯re supposed to see. For one of the most powerful people in the country, he doesn¡¯t look very imposing. In fact, the advisor is shorter than me, with dark eyes sunken into his pudgy face. He reminds me of a frog, an impression reinforced by the dark green robe stretched over his wide figure.

    ¡°Jackal, good to see you,¡± the marquis says as he holds out a hand. ¡°I was discussing some business with Advisor Lightam when I heard you were outside. Is there some kind of problem?¡±

    ¡°A big problem. He has gone too far! Gordon Senior stormed into my house accompanied by soldiers. He beat up my servants and threatened us both physically and mentally, blatantly declaring he would erase our memories to keep us from exposing his treachery. This is an abuse of power!¡±

    ¡°Calm yourself, man.¡± Lightam says. Saints have mercy on him, even his voice is like a frog¡¯s croak. ¡°That¡¯s a very serious accusation you¡¯re making against one of the king¡¯s advisors. I¡¯d hope this isn¡¯t another ploy in a long feud between families.¡±

    ¡°You can see the proof!¡± Uncle points to the bruises on his face. ¡°Some of the offending soldiers are now tied up in my basement and we are all here as witnesses. I am willing to submit myself to an Interrogator to prove I am speaking the truth.¡±

    Lightam looks at Uncle with respect. Interrogators are those with the mental affinity specially trained to work for the crown. They can dig out anyone¡¯s deepest secrets. Offering yourself to them is the last thing a criminal would do, as there¡¯s no place to hide in the mind. No one would think he¡¯s lying.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to go that far, I¡¯ll be confirming your stories. Your family will stay here while we collect these soldiers. I suppose we should invite Advisor Grimoire here to straighten this out.¡±

    ¡°If Advisor Lightam doesn¡¯t mind, I would lend my forces to secure the Grimoire manor,¡± Marquis Guiness answers. ¡°This could be a complicated affair for the royal knights to get involved in.¡±

    ¡°That would be appreciated, Advisor Guiness.¡±

    Hoho. You¡¯re getting involved personally, huh? As I thought, he was simply waiting to see who¡¯d come out on top. Sneaky old man.

    ¡­I have to remember to ask why he looks so young. From what I remember from Father¡¯s talks with other nobles, he should be at least eighty years old but he barely looks out of his twenties.

    ¡°In the meantime, you all will be waiting here.¡± Lightam waves for us to take seats. ¡°We¡¯ll be asking all of you questions. You can let the knights know if there¡¯s anything you need. What a mess.¡±

    The last part is whispered under his breath on his way to the doors.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be taking off. Please, don¡¯t worry about anything. This mess will soon be sorted out.¡±

    Marquis Guiness gives us a deep bow before leaving the room. There¡¯s a tension in the air. Uncle came ready to scream and rant to get people moving. I¡¯m sure it would have come in handy if the marquis wasn¡¯t here. Now, he¡¯s got a whole lot of energy with nowhere to put it. He takes a seat at the table with a slightly dissatisfied expression.

    The rest of the family settles around him. I take a seat on the opposite side, Geneva and Kierra settling on either side of me, and close my eyes. I can feel their gazes on me. Wondering about what my action means. Yes, this is a statement. I¡¯m not saying I hate them but there¡¯s no love lost between us.

    Can you hear me, Geneva?

    [Yes]

    I stiffen, resisting the reflex to jump. Wasn¡¯t ready to hear her voice in my mind. Again, useful but unsettling. Lightam is fishy. What is he thinking?

    [He is an ally of Gordon Senior. More so, I believe Senior is something of a problem handler for the Council of Advisors. Him being brought in is bad for all of them because he will leverage their secrets against them.]

    Oh, that¡¯s all? With how uninterested he seemed, I thought he had something against us. Never mind then. If profit is motivating him, he¡¯ll act as we suspect. Senior in his current state can¡¯t keep anyone¡¯s secrets. It¡¯ll be a race to see who kills the lunatic first between the advisors and his own family.

    The thought makes me laugh, drawing stares from across the table as their conversation is interrupted. I dodge their curious eyes. You¡¯re not invited to this party.

    [Curious. You¡¯re very hostile toward your fellow humans. Is there a reason?]

    Hey. I¡¯m not hostile toward everyone. I only hate the Grimoires. As for my family, we aren¡¯t close because we¡¯ve never been close. They¡¯re people who I happen to share blood with. I have no doubt they¡¯d dime me out for profit, just like every other noble.

    That¡¯s the main reason for my attitude. I¡¯ve simply been disillusioned to people¡¯s nature by my upbringing. I¡¯ll respect someone who¡¯s worth respecting. If that makes me a bad person, well the saints can judge me.

    [Not bad, Lou. Practical. Though more emotionally compromised than your words might suggest. You sound bitter.]

    Hmph. You sound bitter.

    I¡¯m suddenly yanked to the side, nose shoved into my wife¡¯s chest. ¡°Why are the two of you talking in secret?¡± she says with a grin as she keeps pulling me. I¡¯m on her lap when she finally stops. Pushy woman. ¡°I¡¯m getting bored.¡±

    ¡°What do you want me to do about that? I¡¯ve got a feeling the knights at the door will have a problem with us exploring the place.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Tell me what you want to do now.¡±

    ¡°Train.¡± I lean forward, dropping my voice to a whisper. ¡°With Geneva here, I can figure out how this body works. And she has four of my seven affinities, so that¡¯ll work for that.¡± As for earth, air, and light, I¡¯ve got no idea. Especially light. All greater affinities are hard to train but light and celestial are on their own levels.

    Ah. Just realized while I have my immediate future handled, I didn¡¯t think about what she might want to do. Doubt she¡¯d like to continue hovering over my shoulder forever. ¡°What about you? What do you want to do when this is over?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°How sweet. I do have something in mind. While I was reading, I came across records of the Grand Hall. I think it may be interesting.¡±

    The Grand Hall, huh. Where I was headed to in the first place. Not the most unreasonable thing. In fact, I think with my new leverage and her treasure stash, I could afford the tuition. ¡°Sure, but what are you planning to do? Don¡¯t tell me you want to be a student.¡±

    ¡°Would that be so strange?¡±

    ¡°For so many reasons. Chief among them, you have a pure affinity. You don¡¯t cast, you work on instinct.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean there¡¯s nothing to learn. But no, I don¡¯t plan on studying beside you. The pet can teach me anything I need to know. I have a different role in mind for me.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    -

    It¡¯s hours later when Lightam returns. He has a naturally displeased face which is made worse by his heavy scowl. ¡°Members of the Tome family,¡± he announces, practically biting off every word. ¡°After an investigation into the events, we¡¯ve found proof of Advisor Grimoire¡¯s actions. Please be patient for a little longer while we fetch an interrogator to verify your statements."

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 27

    The empty room becomes busy after Lightam¡¯s announcement. Half a dozen royal knights take up positions throughout the room. Something about safety was mentioned but it¡¯s to keep us from leaving as Lightam goes off to handle some business or other.

    When he comes back, he¡¯s accompanied by Marquis Guiness, a strange person whose features are hidden by their long black cloak, and a figure with distinctive white hair. That¡¯s the guy who was walking beside Junior the other day. Wah. Kind of ignored him since he never said anything but I guess he¡¯s actually someone important? But there¡¯s no way someone that young is an advisor¡­

    ¡°Thank you for your patience,¡± Lightam says. ¡°As this matter is incredibly important, we¡¯ll be hurrying this along so I¡¯ll ask you to pardon me in advance if I cause any offense. This interrogator will now be taking your statements. According to tradition, Prince Bastion Kor Harvest will preside.¡±

    Oh. Oooohhh, that¡¯s right. White hair is something that¡¯s seen in the royal family. Junior was making nice with a prince.

    I hate dealing with royals.

    This isn¡¯t good.

    ¡°Then Lord Tome, I¡¯ll ask you to go first.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    The interrogator comes to stand before Uncle and places two bony fingers on either side of his head. Then he asks one question, ¡°What happened today resulting in you reporting Advisor Grimoire?¡±

    Uncle rambles off his story. The interrogator listens silently to the end before nodding, standing up, and moving on to Father.

    The process seems mundane but with Geneva in my head explaining to me exactly what¡¯s going on, I¡¯m greatly unnerved by the ethics of this interrogator. According to her, he¡¯s not just going after the information on the event. He¡¯s using their distraction to dig for anything out of the ordinary. That¡¯s not happening to me.

    [No, it won¡¯t. This man¡¯s methods are crude and inexperienced. As if I¡¯d let him rummage through your mind.]

    Ah, my Geneva is so reliable~ Summoning really is the perfect art for someone like me. It¡¯s great having powerful friends.

    Before I know it, he¡¯s standing in front of Kierra. He reaches out to her but she raises a hand, giving him her best glare. ¡°I was asleep during the event so there¡¯s no need to question me.¡±

    ¡°Everyone involved must be questioned in order to ascertain the truth,¡± he replies with steel in his voice. ¡°If you were truly asleep, then this will be quick. There¡¯s no need to be concerned.¡±

    ¡°But I am concerned. You do not need my testimony. Therefore, you aren¡¯t going to touch me.¡± Her words are laced with a threat for what will happen if he tries.

    ¡°If you do not cooperate¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll allow it,¡± Bastian says over him. He¡¯s been silent, standing at the back of the room beside Lightam and Marquis Guiness. What is that look he¡¯s giving me? I want to say it¡¯s friendly but it makes my skin crawl. ¡°Proceed.¡±

    Which means me, as we were the last two. Here we go. Geneva, I want him to get just what he¡¯s looking for. Not a damn memory more. And if he gets carried away, shut him down.

    [With pleasure. By the way, this man seems to be working for someone else. I can¡¯t be sure, but he was very annoyed about Master¡¯s refusal. For a moment, someone popped into his mind. If I see them again, I¡¯ll recognize them.]

    ¡°Lourianne Tome, as you answer my question, picture the events to the best of your memory. What happened this morning when Advisor Grimoire came to the Tome family manor?¡±

    ¡°I heard a commotion in the hall. Next thing I know, the advisor is kicking down my door, flanked by members of the city garrison. Uncle tried to get him to leave but the soldiers shut him up. Then Advisor Grimoire attempted to threaten me into releasing my contract. He failed. Then he fled.¡±

    I can¡¯t see the interrogator¡¯s face but I can feel his displeasure. ¡°Why did Advisor Grimoire fail to take control of your thrall?¡±

    ¡°The rules of their society prevented it.¡±

    ¡°Why did Advisor Grimoire not subdue you physically after failing in his threat?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t speak to his thoughts.¡± This interrogator¡¯s voice sounds agitated. Not getting what you want? Hehe.

    ¡°Give your best opinion then.¡±

    ¡°¡­his actions were very flashy. Perhaps he realized he was in a disadvantageous position and retreated to regroup.¡±

    The interrogator moves his hands away and shrugs off his hood. A grizzled older man glares at me. Ooo, if looks could kill, I¡¯d be a corpse right now. ¡°Your Highness, the thrall is interfering in my questioning. This woman is resisting. I recommend she be detained until the Head Interrogator can question her.¡±

    Huh? ¡°Lies. Were you unable to verify the truth of my answers?¡±

    ¡°No¡ª¡±

    ¡°Think carefully before you lie,¡± I hiss. ¡°I have a real truth-seeker by my side and something tells me you have plenty of secrets you don¡¯t want coming out.¡±

    He flinches at my tone, frowning deeply.

    ¡°Interrogator Croust,¡± Bastian says, taking a step forward. ¡°Your honor is the crown¡¯s honor and all interrogations are to be documented by another interrogator for authenticity. Remember that when you answer. Were you able to verify the truth of Lourianne Tome¡¯s answers?¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Croust grits his teeth. ¡°Yes, but she is clearly hiding something.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not for you to know. The purpose of this is to verify the details of Advisor Grimoire¡¯s assault on our family. Anything else that doesn¡¯t directly pertain to that is none of your business.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Hey, now. I thought you might be a decent sort. Bastian¡¯s expression is giving nothing away but this is complete crap. Should have expected as much from someone who kept company with Junior. ¡°How can we know it doesn¡¯t relate to our inquiry if we don¡¯t know what it is? This is not a situation where we can simply take your word for it.¡±

    Croust looks satisfied. He reminds me of Crowley. I hate him. ¡°You want to know what I was holding back? Senior barged in on us while we were naked. Excuse me if I don¡¯t want this old perv seeing my wife¡¯s assets.¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous!¡± Croust sputters. ¡°You¡¯re hiding the means in which you avoided Advisor Grimoire taking control of your thrall. I cannot help but think it is something truly devious. It might have even given him legitimate cause to raid your home.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not hiding anything. She is,¡± I say, hooking a thumb over my shoulder to point to Geneva. ¡°I told you it has something to do with their society. What¡¯s being blocked out is privileged information. If you want it, talk to her.¡±

    Flawless lies. His scowl says that his spell is telling him it¡¯s the truth but he knows I¡¯m still holding something back.

    ¡°How about it? Am I telling the truth?¡±

    ¡°¡­she is.¡±

    Bastian sighs. ¡°As Lourianne Tome has given satisfactory answers, this inquiry is now over. I hereby order that Advisor Grimoire is to be brought in to answer to these accusations, even if it requires the use of force.¡±

    The announcement isn¡¯t grand enough for what it means. Any noble, let alone a king¡¯s advisor, being dragged out of their home to face an inquiry is sensational news. This is going to be even more of an uproar as, if Belolial does her job, it¡¯ll be an armed resistance.

    Some of those city garrison soldiers are going to be hurt, if not killed. My actions are causing innocent blood to be shed. Saints witness, I should probably feel bad about this, shouldn¡¯t I¡­

    Pfft. Forget it. I don¡¯t know them. And really, how innocent can they be? Those soldiers had no business conducting that kind of raid simply because Senior told them to. Screw ¡®em.

    ¡°Your Highness, thank you for your guidance,¡± Uncle says with a sweeping bow. ¡°We will take our leave and await your judgement at our manor.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. You¡¯ve been through an ordeal. The advisor¡¯s abuse of power is unforgivable and in no way reflects the ideals of the royal family. We¡¯ll make sure this travesty is corrected.¡±

    ¡°May the saints bless the royal family.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Lady Tome, if you could stay behind for a moment.¡±

    I was following behind Jac but his words make me freeze. I wave Kierra to go ahead of me before I turn around and claim a seat, Geneva beside me. Uncle throws a curious look between the two of us before leaving the room with the rest of the family.

    Bastian takes the chair beside me. It¡¯s an armlength away, which is a little too close for propriety¡¯s sake and far too close for my own comfort.

    At a distance, he has the same immaculate appearance as every other high noble but this close, I can see his flawless skin is the result of makeup and his thick chin tells me that his tight-fitting clothes are hiding a body that¡¯s not as tight. That white hair is really eye-catching when the rest of him is so normal.

    ¡°That was a bit stressful. I hope you didn¡¯t take offense. As I said, every inquiry is reviewed. Someone will be digging through my head for the details and if there is a hint of favoritism, it won¡¯t be good for anyone.¡±

    ¡°Your Highness did nothing to apologize for. Truly, I¡¯m surprised you would be willing to show someone such as me favoritism.¡± Why are you talking to me? Royal attention is bad attention. I don¡¯t want to be your friend! I don¡¯t even want to be your acquaintance! Until today, I didn¡¯t know your name. Which is a little disgraceful but no matter.

    ¡°We haven¡¯t had many opportunities to socialize but I hope to change that in the future. Perhaps we¡¯ll find that we share a few common interests.¡±

    His eyes go to Geneva and he gives her that same disgusting look from the night before. Shivers go up my spine as my stomach tightens. This bastard. I know why he was hanging around Junior now. Ha, I was so concerned about the Grimoires I never asked Fen about her ¡®partners¡¯.

    Now that the Grimoires are about to take a big hit, he¡¯s worried about where to get his fix. He wants Geneva. I guess he¡¯s offering a friend in the royal family.

    A part of me wants to be reasonable. This is how the Grimoires have conducted business for a long time. Succubi are practically synonymous with ¡®sexual favors¡¯ amongst nobles. It¡¯s why I have so much animosity for that family. Bastian has been dealing with Junior. He doesn¡¯t know better.

    Plus, he¡¯s a royal. You don¡¯t say no to the Harvest family.

    ¡°Forgive me, Your Highness, but I have to disagree.¡± Where did my reasonable response go? I meant to say something neutral but the words wrapped in a cold tone slip out.

    I get to my feet, meeting Bastian¡¯s sour smile with a scowl. ¡°That¡¯s too bad.¡± Three little words that don¡¯t sound like much but sit on my shoulders like boulders.

    For a royal, someone denying him must be the equivalent to a slap in the face. Sigh. This is why I was filled with dread the moment he called out to me. Saints witness, he¡¯s going to cause some problems in the future. Unless I give him what he wants. Which¡¯ll never happen.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll be taking my leave.¡± I give him a quick bow and practically scurry out of the room, Geneva on my heels.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± I look at her from the corner of my eye. ¡°What are you talking about? Actually, do you know the way out of here?¡±

    She moves ahead of me. ¡°Sleeping with the boy. He doesn¡¯t smell too bad. Not nearly enough for me to form a contract but not a total waste of time either.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not.¡±

    ¡°¡­while your passion is quite touching, it¡¯s unnecessary. In the first place, who do you think started the rumors about succubi?¡±

    I pause and grab her arm. ¡°Wait. Are you saying you made yourselves into lust idols?¡±

    Geneva grins. ¡°This isn¡¯t the first plane to summon us.¡± She removes my hand, holding onto it as she pulls me forward. ¡°In my experience, there are three truths that dominate all living creatures: survival, reproduction, evolution. They are the most powerful motivators. The best way to secure beneficial contracts is to tap into one of those three desires. Humans are vulnerable to all three, but their sexual drives are the easiest to manipulate. Especially with males.

    ¡°What you seem to think of as demeaning gives us power, nearly as much as our magic. No matter what you think, we are usually the ones in control of such situations and we always come out on top.¡±

    Hmph. When she puts it like that, I can¡¯t argue. Doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to change my views. ¡°Is there any reason you couldn¡¯t be both?¡± I grumble. ¡°Teachers can be sexy too.¡± I know because it was a common fantasy of mine. Yet Father always hired old crones as my etiquette teachers. Ah, my deprived childhood.

    Geneva looks back with a smirk. ¡°True. Which is why I think your attitude is commendable. However, I don¡¯t want it to get in the way of your goals. As I¡¯ve been promised a very tempting reward for making myself useful.¡±

    Wow. Where did all that pride from when she was in my circle go? I can¡¯t find a trace of it. Kierra was right. She¡¯s a pet, begging for scraps at the dinner table. Which would be me. Still disturbing. ¡°I¡¯m thinking white for your collar. It¡¯s eye-catching and one of the few colors that goes with my obnoxious family¡¯s crest.¡±

    ¡°Delightful. Perhaps you should take this time to create your own crest. Would be much more meaningful.¡±

    Ooo, she¡¯s got a point. And I can stop complaining about those horrendous colors. ¡°Good idea. I¡¯ll think about what you said but not with Bastian. There¡¯s got to be standards.¡± She¡¯s a circle 7 don for saints¡¯ sake. That¡¯s an existence a dragon would show respect to.

    ¡°As expected of my summoner. I¡¯ll look forward to tasty treats.¡± The little hound licks her lips as her whip-like tail wags behind her.

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 28

    After arriving home, Uncle gathers everyone in the sitting room for a drink. With the heavy way he sighs while plopping down, you¡¯d think he just fought a war rather than sat in a chair while a man touched his head. I¡¯m a lot more comfortable this time around as Kierra is with me, the two of us curled up in a chair that¡¯s way too small for it. Geneva stands just behind us, head slightly bowed, but I know she¡¯s got her eyes on everything in the room.

    ¡°Hmph. Those Grimoires are finally getting what they deserve.¡± Uncle takes a cup handed to him by a servant and takes a long drink, relaxing into his chair with a satisfied smile. ¡°And we didn¡¯t have to lift a finger.¡±

    ¡°¡­Lou.¡±

    I look over to my father. He¡¯s sitting forward, wine cup in his hand ignored as he stares at me with a rare intensity. ¡°What happened in that room?¡±

    I sigh as the rest of the room focuses on me. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve known Senior for a long time. He is not a man to make idle threats or do things halfway. The only way he would have left this estate in such a clumsy way is if he was forced. So, again, what happened in that room?¡±

    ¡°You heard. A rule got in his way.¡±

    ¡°Even if such a rule stopped his succubi from acting, it wouldn¡¯t inhibit his own actions. He would have strangled us with his bare hands before letting us make an official complaint to the crown.¡±

    Ugh. Can¡¯t you people take a hint? ¡°Would you believe me if I said my charm?¡±

    They all give me a look that clearly says No. You bastards, what are you trying to say? I¡¯m plenty charming.

    Matt leans forward in his chair. His eyes are just as searching but unlike the others, it lacks the starved look. He long ago got out of the power struggles of nobility, preferring to build his name through labor. Out of everyone in my family, I respect him the most. Probably makes me a bad daughter but, whatever. ¡°Will this get you in trouble?¡±

    And his first question is to ask after my well-being. My cousin, you¡¯re a good man.

    I stare directly at him as I answer. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how, but I convinced him that killing me would be more troublesome than he thought.¡±

    Uncle snorts. ¡°More troublesome than a royal inquisition? My niece, you can trust us with your methods. A family is stronger together.¡±

    In other words, if I have something that could benefit the family, he wants it. His glare says he¡¯s practically demanding it. You know what? I¡¯ve had enough of these games.

    I pat Kierra¡¯s side and she moves, allowing me to stand. I glare down at them with all the disdain I can muster. ¡°I¡¯m tired of beating around the bush with this, so let¡¯s get everyone on the same page. My secrets have nothing to do with you so you can stop eyeing me like I¡¯m about the drop a golden egg.¡±

    ¡°Watch your words,¡± Uncle growls. ¡°You are a member of this family and I am the patriarch. A certain respect¡ª¡±

    ¡°Or what?¡± I raise my hands. ¡°What are you going to do? Or you?¡± I gesture toward Father. Respect? Ridiculous. Compared to my new divine parent, I don¡¯t owe these people anything. ¡°I have shown you plenty of respect but I¡¯m not going to sit here while you try to mine me for any profit you can squeeze out of me.¡±

    ¡°Lou, stop being unreasonable.¡± Here comes Jac, the peacemaker. ¡°You make it sound uncouth. We¡¯re all in this situation together. Can you blame us for wanting to know all the details? And as a member of this family, you have a stake in our success. A responsibility, whether you like it or not.¡±

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°I bet that¡¯s what you tell yourself every day to convince yourself you¡¯re happy to marry whatever old man Uncle pawns you off to.¡± She flinches but I plow on. ¡°Screw your responsibility. What, are you talking about the price of raising me? I can cover that right now.¡± Not that I want to give these people any of my hard-earned gold. ¡°Really easy because I wasn¡¯t the least bit spoiled. Besides that, I have no idea what responsibility you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Father stands, teeth grit. As his daughter, this little outburst reflects the worse on him. Too bad I don¡¯t care anymore. ¡°You¡¯ve gone too far. We¡¯ve done everything for you.¡±

    ¡°What? You¡¯ve done everything for yourselves. If I wasn¡¯t going to be shipped off to the Grand Hall, I¡¯d be in Jac¡¯s situation. What part of that is for my benefit? If you ever listened to me once¡ª¡± I cut myself out and take a deep breath. Ah, not good. I¡¯m remembering some past resentments. I¡¯d resigned myself to my fate before that fateful day but now that I¡¯m in a position to be angry, I see I¡¯ve got a lot to say.

    Besides, what he did led to the most fortuitous moment of my life. I could never hate my father. That doesn¡¯t mean I have to be soft to him and none of that applies to the others. ¡°Forget it. This is stupid. You¡¯re stupid.¡± What am I doing in this place again? Uncle looks like a dog with a bone. He¡¯s not going to let this go and the manor is going to be awkward now that I¡¯ve blatantly balked the chain of command.

    I¡¯ve got money for a hotel. One nicer than my room now. The Tome family really has declined. And it¡¯ll be easier to go about my day without worrying about someone peeking over my shoulder. One foot out the door, might as well walk out and slam it behind me. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±

    ¡°What? You can¡¯t leave!¡± Now Jac is on her feet.  ¡°We¡¯re still under investigation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving the city. I¡¯m checking into a hotel. This place is suffocating.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t expect us to pay for¡ª¡±

    ¡°Like I would, idiot. If something comes up, send Matt. Otherwise I won¡¯t let you in.¡± I turn my back on the rest of their words and leave the room. ¡°Whew. Really did that. Think we can get packed up and out of here before they digest what just happened and try some plot to keep me here?¡±

    ¡°We can. But we wouldn¡¯t have to if it weren¡¯t for that spectacular tantrum of yours, dedia.¡±

    I glare at Kierra but she meets it with a mocking smile she usually gives me when I¡¯m not getting something during one of her ¡®lessons¡¯. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a tantrum. They¡¯re¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not the best, but that display wasn¡¯t very noble either. A true leader inspires their subordinates to do better rather than tossing aside those deemed incompetent.¡±

    Huh? Wait, that¡¯s right. She was a captain of some kind of military regiment. Proper background to make a statement like that. ¡°Okay. Saints witness, maybe not my greatest moment. Something besides rationale was motivating my actions. But you have to admit, I¡¯m not wrong. Geneva, back me up here.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you decide is best, Lou,¡± she responds immediately. Hey, when you say it with that smirk, it makes me feel like you¡¯re making fun of me. ¡°Though, I agree. You do not need them. Succubi do not have family so I cannot understand such loyalty. Master is also correct that it is necessary to lead one¡¯s subordinates but those worms don¡¯t qualify.¡±

    I point at her. ¡°Right there. Besides, I didn¡¯t cut off ties completely. I gave Matt a free pass.¡±

    Kierra chuckles and pulls me against her side. ¡°In the future, that would all be true. Now?¡± I look away as she raises an eyebrow. No need to point out all my flaws. ¡°The Grimoires are a good start but besides them you have no allies or influence. Coupled with your desire to stay hidden until you¡¯re stronger, your family are the best choices for co-conspirators. Two of them might even be useful. Luckily, it is not too late to rectify the situation.¡±

    ¡°¡­I suppose.¡±

    ¡°No worries. You are learning. Mistakes are expected.¡±

    ¡°Mm. By the way, which two do you think are useful?¡±

    ¡°Jac and Matt. The girl is knowledgeable, hungry, and has all the tact you lack. The boy is sensible without an ounce of deceit in him. A great worker. The older generation are bogged down by their old ambitions and will be far too difficult to change. Neither of them would be happy not being in charge. Otherwise, the two brothers would be on much better terms.¡±

    Well, I¡¯ve got no problem with Matt. Jac¡­eh, she¡¯s tolerable. Especially if I¡¯m looking down on her. I mean that in the most unthreatening and non-arrogant way possible. It¡¯s just good to hold the power for once.

    Kierra¡¯s right. If Cosmo simply tossed aside people he thought were incompetent, I¡¯d be dead instead of on the verge of greatness.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a point.¡± I will learn from Cosmo¡¯s ways, like any good daughter. ¡°Shall we see if they can amuse us?¡±

    Kierra gives me a strange look. Her face is very controlled but her eyes are heavy with an emotion I can¡¯t identify. Is she angry I just degraded my family members into toys? But it¡¯s not exactly disapproving¡­

    She looks away before I can get an answer. ¡°We should spend the night and leave early in the morning. Searching for a room this late will draw too much attention I think.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 29

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    I pause stepping off the hired carriage as Maxine waves to me at the entrance of the hotel. The hell is she doing here? She really must be spying on us. I suspected it but the only way she could be here is if she has ears inside the Tome manor. Kierra wants me to make use of Uncle who can¡¯t even keep his own house secure? This is too much.

    ¡°Lou, Miss Kierra. Good to see the two of you looking so well this early.¡±

    ¡°Max.¡± I¡¯m considerably less excited with my greeting. I grasp her outstretched hand with a stiff smile. ¡°What a surprise to see you here.¡±

    She gives a little lady-like chuckle. ¡°Please. You make it sound sinister. The Guiness family is a backer of the Golden Feathers hotels. I was simply discussing some business with the owner when he mentioned a runner was bringing over luggage from the Tome family.¡±

    Oh, I see. What a perfectly logical and reasonable explanation for your presence. I¡¯m not suspicious at all.

    ¡°Since you¡¯re here, there¡¯s something I wanted to talk to you about. Actually, I should probably address it to your father.¡±

    ¡°If I can be of help. How about we have breakfast together? The kitchen was recently restocked with exclusive fruits provided from Green Mountain.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± We follow her into the hotel. ¡°By the way, you know a good leather worker and blacksmith? I need something made.¡±

    -

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    I hold up the piece of paper to Kierra and Geneva. On it is the Tome family crest, with a few alterations. Instead of a book on just the elemental circle in the symbol for magic, I added the greater star and small pinpricks throughout the background that casually look like accidental slips.

    I sigh at their disinterested looks. ¡°Come on, use your imaginations. We can go with the purple-black for the background, white for the accents, white for the circle, gold for the star and white for the book. It¡¯ll look good.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very¡­representative.¡± What¡¯s with that look Kierra. ¡°I think there should be something other than these colors. Otherwise, we¡¯ll look a bit too much like the Twilight Province for my tastes.¡±

    ¡°What Master is saying that the colors all look a bit too gloomy,¡± Geneva adds. ¡°Since they will pervade every aspect of your life.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s white and gold. Those are plenty cheery. Anymore and it¡¯ll be the colorful mess of our current crest.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t take much. Just a little something on the book. Green is a nice color.¡±

    Oh, I see. You just want a piece. ¡°Green¡¯s a beautiful color.¡± That¡¯s a nice smile. Good job, me. ¡°A little decoration along the edges.¡± I mark the design on my drawing and give it a nod of satisfaction. ¡°That¡¯ll work. Now we¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lou,¡± Geneva interrupts in a toneless voice. I look over to her but her gaze is far off. ¡°Belolial is reporting to me that the city garrison has commenced their raid on the Grimoire family, alongside knights from the Guiness family and the palace. Gordon Senior has rallied who he can but Fen did good work. Junior took the most important members of the family and surrendered. With this, the family¡¯s structure remains intact.¡±

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Alright. What about Senior?¡±

    ¡°He is currently battling members of the garrison along with his knights. Belolial¡­oh, clever girl. She is securing their most valuable treasures. To protect from looters.¡±

    That is a useful subordinate. Knows the important things.

    ¡°Mm. She¡¯ll finish securing the treasures before urging Senior on. This has to end with his death, otherwise they¡¯ll question her disappearance. Ah, yes. The battle is heating up. I suppose that man is a bit capable.¡±

    ¡°¡­are people dead?¡±

    ¡°One dead from the garrison, three with major wounds. The Grimoire knights are battered but they¡¯re holding strong. Not for long though.¡±

    ¡°Geneva,¡± Kierra calls while leaning against my back. ¡°Order Fen to give an order to Junior. He is to lead the other members of the Grimoire family into battle against their knights. No matter what role they play, they all must participate.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± I frown as I look up at her. ¡°Come on. Do you know how tedious it will be if they die?¡±

    ¡°Mm. But there is no kind of honor quite like military distinction and their influence is your influence. It is also a nice way to distance themselves from the rest of the family that are, currently, enemies of the crown.¡±

    ¡°The order has been relayed.¡± Geneva winks at me. So, you agree with her. ¡°I work in your best interests.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Relax.¡± Kierra hooks an arm around my neck. ¡°They will be fine. No one is asking them to join the front lines. They simply need to be present and remembered. Grab your little drawing and gold. Max should be lingering about and we can have her get started on our projects.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried,¡± I grumble, hastily grabbing the stuff before she drags me out the room. I couldn''t care less about the Grimoires, soon to be Masons. I have plans for them is all.

    Maxine is in the dining room, head bowed as she looks blankly at a small piece of paper in her hands. She startles to attention when I plop into the seat across from her. ¡°Found you. About that thing we were discussing, I¡¯ve got the plans.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Though I think we should wait awhile.¡± She folds the piece of paper and tucks it into a discreet pocket of her dress. ¡°There¡¯s a bit of conflict throughout the city.¡±

    ¡°No problem. Unlike you, I don¡¯t have a couple of large knights to protect me.¡±

    ¡°Haha.¡± She gives Kierra a quick look before turning back to me. Yeah, I¡¯m not fooling anyone. ¡°¡­you haven¡¯t asked what the conflict is.¡±

    ¡°I can guess. Not that it has anything to do with me. More importantly.¡±

    I hand over the paper with my drawing. Max takes it from me, giving the paper a cursory look. ¡°Seems simple enough. The standard package?¡±

    ¡°Flag, seal, and ring plus send an official notice to the castle to register me as a caster.¡±

    ¡°Also¡­¡± Kierra hands over a few folded papers. I try to grab them but she smoothly dodges the unspoken request, dropping them in Maxine¡¯s outstretched hand. ¡°If you really have connections to Green Mountain and the Dragon Isles, this much should be possible.¡±

    Maxine studies the new papers much more intently. Sigh. Now I¡¯m even more curious about what¡¯s on them. After a few minutes, she chuckles as she tucks the papers away. ¡°It¡¯s within the Guiness Company¡¯s ability. You seem quite familiar with these products.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been around. Perhaps even more than your traders.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s eyes are shining at the thought of more trade. If my wife can introduce her to more exclusive products, the Guiness family¡¯s profits will skyrocket and her position in the family will follow.

    If Kierra¡¯s gone and told her something like that, I guess she¡¯s cultivating Maxine as an ally. Congratulations. You¡¯ve been transferred from my ¡®I¡¯m not sure about you¡¯ list to my ¡®hesitant friend¡¯ list. Hope you realize how great that is.

    [Lou, the confrontation has ended. Gordon Senior is dead and Belolial is making her way toward us.]

    ¡°We¡¯ll let you get to it,¡± I say popping to my feet.

    Maxine stands. ¡°I¡¯ll work with all available speed. Also, I sent a message to Father. Unfortunately, urgent business requires that he leave the city. He¡¯s already gone but if you can¡¯t wait¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. A week or three won¡¯t change anything. See you later.¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 30

    Geneva is seated on the bed when we enter the room. She points to the window just as I hear scratches against the glass. I open it up, hastily jumping back as something orange quickly darts inside. ¡°What the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    Awwwww~

    It startled me but now that I¡¯m getting a closer look, this thing is adorable. At first glance, it looks like a miniature gargoyle from the Endless Cliff Realm, just barely reaching my knee. Except this little gargoyle doesn¡¯t have any of the horrendous features they¡¯re known for. It looks more like a little doll with big ears and bigger eyes. The arms are thin but well defined and it has a slightly pudgy stomach like it¡¯s just had a good meal. Its skin is a bright orange-red that flows like its moving, its four eyes shining like rubies.

    ¡°Come ¡®ere~¡± I hold out my arms, squealing in delight as it walks forward on its knuckles, a thick lizard-like tail swishing behind it. I grunt as I lift it into the air. Ugh. This thing is much heavier than it looks. ¡°You¡¯ve shrunk but I guess you didn¡¯t lose any weight, huh?¡±

    ¡°Cooo.¡± The sound is slightly disappointed as Belolial, or at least the thing I really hope is the virtue, gives me a big-eyed look.

    ¡°Belolial.¡± She jumps out of my arms and into Geneva¡¯s. ¡°Lou, this is the form of an incompetent imp. You know our most basic relatives. These are the ones who take a divergent path to evolution. They gain their third affinity early but their coefficients freeze, so they remain rather weak. Good workers but since they cannot benefit from pacts, summoners do not know about them.¡±

    I rush over to the desk in the room and hastily begin writing it down. This woman is just casually dropping priceless information within the summoning community. ¡°Coefficient range? Temperament? Average size and weight? Preferences?¡±

    Geneva rattles off the information, answering all my questions. When the page is full, I carefully tuck it into a drawer, grinning broadly. I can¡¯t get paid for something like this but it¡¯ll give me plenty of esteem and esteem is almost as good as gold amongst casters. People respect a competent caster more than the head of a noble family. It¡¯ll certainly make my conversation with Marquis Guiness easier.

    I turn around to see Belolial laying in Geneva¡¯s arms, tail curled around her while her little hands hold Geneva¡¯s wrist, sucking on my elemental¡¯s finger.

    ¡°My. She¡¯s about as cute as a baby forest panther.¡±

    I squeeze my wife¡¯s arm to express my agreement because if I open my mouth, I might squeal. Geneva pulls her finger away. ¡°Our contract is complete. You¡¯ll be Bell for now. Obey Lou as you obey me.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell jumps out of her lap and walks back to me. I scoop her up without hesitation. Ah, this is the best. I will literally lift weights so I can carry her the entire day.

    Kierra makes grabbing motions and I move away from her. As if that¡¯d be enough to stop her. She quickly pulls me back by the hem of my pants and snatches Bell from my arms. ¡°Hoh. I thought she¡¯d be rough like stone but this is rather comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Return me to Master Lou, elf.]

    Kierra holds a frowning Bell at arm length. ¡°Now that¡¯s not very friendly. And it¡¯s just Lou.¡±

    ¡°Coo coo.¡± [I do not desire to be friendly with you. Release me.] Her tail whips angrily as her frown deepens.

    With a shake of her head, my wife hands her over to my eager hands. ¡°Bell¡¯s so adorable. Is this really how incompetent imps look?¡± If it is, I need more of them. Like, half a dozen.

    ¡°No. We worked together.¡± Geneva gives me a big grin. ¡°I¡¯m glad you approve.¡±

    That is a subordinate worth inspiring. In response, I hand Bell over to Kierra to hold and change back to my elemental form. I hold out a finger to Geneva. She doesn¡¯t hesitate to snap her jaws, the digit disappearing behind her pearly teeth as she falls back onto the bed with a delighted hum.

    I change back and take Bell back into my arms. Hehe. The little imp is drooling as she looks at me imploringly. ¡°Do a good job Bell and there may be a treat in it for you.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [I will dedicate myself to your service, Master Lou!] She wriggles with excitement and I squeeze her tighter. These damn succubi are going to make me die of cuteness. ¡°Kierra, remind me what else I have to do today before my heart gives out dealing with these two.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, there¡¯s nothing. But there¡¯s something I have to handle so you stay and be spoiled by the pets.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. That¡¯s a secret for now. Don¡¯t let them take too many pieces of you.¡±

    The door closes on that bizarre warning. My wife is sneaking away without telling me. I should be worried about this¡­

    Nah. It¡¯s that deviant elf. It¡¯s not like she¡¯s going to find trolls in the capital. And really, I¡¯d feel sorry for anyone who tries to start anything with her. Talk about a bad decision.

    Shaking my head at the thought I flop down next to Geneva, settling Bell on my chest. ¡°Let¡¯s take a nap then.¡± A leg pushes its way between mine as Geneva latches onto me. I shiver as she kisses my neck. ¡°Go to sleep, you. You¡¯re not eating me.¡±

    ¡°Aw.¡± The lips retreat but she doesn¡¯t move away. This is a little suffocating but it¡¯s a nice feeling. I was half kidding about taking a nap but my eyes are feeling heavy. Ah, why not? Lazy days are the best and something tells me I won¡¯t be able to enjoy them forever.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    -

    A messenger arrived at the hotel early the next morning to tell us that we were being summoned to the palace. When we arrive at the circular meeting room, I see everyone else has already arrived; the rest of the Tome family, Junior, Fen, Croust, Bastian, and the usual assortment of knights to keep the peace.

    ¡°Forgive me, Your Highness,¡± I say giving a deep bow. ¡°It seems I¡¯ve kept everyone waiting.¡±

    ¡°No need.¡± He waves for us to take a seat, giving Bell a curious look. ¡°It couldn¡¯t be helped when asking for your arrival spontaneously. Now that everyone¡¯s here, we can put this matter to rest. Yesterday, we attempted to arrest Gordon Grimoire Senior to have him answer to his crimes. He died in armed resistance, which is more than enough evidence of his guilt. The final thing we need to discuss is reparations. Javarius Tome, you may speak first.¡±

    Uncle practically jumps to his feet. Jeez. Why don¡¯t you bounce and sing a little jig? The man could at least try to not be excited. ¡°Thank you, Your Highness. My house has taken many losses. The damage to our estate, the injuries to our knights and servants. That¡¯s without considering the sheer disregard they have shown for the honor of our kingdom. I will trust in Your Highness¡¯ judgment in this matter.¡±

    Sly, very sly. He basically just told the prince to put a price on his pride and the pride of the royal family. Cheh. The Grimoires are bleeding but Uncle won¡¯t be happy until they¡¯re done and scavengers have ripped the flesh from their bones.

    Bastian nods gravely. ¡°Gordon Grimoire Jr. Speak.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Your Highness.¡± I ignore him and look at Fen, who is standing just behind him. As if sensing my gaze, she turns and gives me a quick smile before turning back around. ¡°First, I would like to give the Tome family sincere apologies on behalf of my family," Junior says with sincerity I''ve never heard before. "My father¡¯s actions are an insult to all of nobility.¡±

    He lowers his head toward Uncle as he finishes talking. I¡¯m not the only one in the room who is taken aback by his words. Has a Grimoire ever apologized to a Tome, let alone bowed to us? Impossible. Burning Earth would have to freeze over first.

    ¡°My family paid in blood to rectify the sins of my father against the crown,¡± he continues as he raises his head. ¡°Though it may sound shameless, I can only offer you gold. I will take any amount Your Highness deems appropriate.¡±

    That is not him. I¡¯d wager an arm that Fen is telling him what to say right now. Junior is not eloquent, ever. Bastian is looking quite thoughtful. Time to make my move. Geneva, make sure I don¡¯t trip over my words. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve got this handled but I won¡¯t decline a helping hand.

    ¡°If I may speak, Your Highness.¡±

    No end to the shocks today, I guess. Hold onto your seats people. It¡¯s only going to get worse. ¡°I would like to speak on behalf of the Grimoire family. Our two families have both been negatively affected by one insane man. It would be a continuation of the tragedy if this conflict weakened such a noble family. Rather, this is a time where our two houses should seek to mend our tense relations.¡±

    I give the room a quick bow before retaking my seat. My family is looking at me as if I just turned into a troll, hehe. The other one who should be surprised, Gordon, has a stony expression. Fen¡¯s had a talk with him then.

    ¡°As a member of your family has shown praiseworthy compassion and the Grimoires have demonstrated their allegiance to the crown, it would be disgraceful if I weren¡¯t able to show leniency in this situation. I hereby decree that the Grimoires should reimburse the Tome family for any damage caused and pay an additional 1,000 gold crowns. With this, let the matter to be put to rest.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your guidance,¡± Uncle and Junior reply together, one voice strained in an effort to hold off its bitterness.

    ¡°I, Bastian Kor Harvest, declare this inquiry closed.¡±

    He stands and the rest of the room follows in his stead. The prince makes a move toward Junior, opening his mouth to call out to him, but the attempt is thwarted as Junior turns his back on him and marches toward me. He meets my eyes without a word before marching on. Fen lingers. ¡°Hello, Lou. Please forgive his disregard. It is on my instructions as you don¡¯t want people knowing of your control over the Grimoire family.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Fen.¡± I head toward the door and she falls in step beside me. ¡°How are you? How is Junior?¡±

    ¡°Well. There is a bit of tension between Gordon and a few older members of the family. There is someone who has contracted a circle 4 thrall. Lady Belolial already spoke with her so she won¡¯t participate in a rebellion but there are those who want to support him as head of the family.¡±

    ¡°And we can¡¯t have that.¡±

    ¡°No worries. While Gordon Senior¡¯s demise was an embarrassment, his legacy is still strong. Junior proved to be a reliable leader already so his father¡¯s contacts support him, at least on the surface. With Lady Belolial¡¯s orders, I have every succubi contracted to the family at my disposal so they have no hope of an armed struggle. They are nothing to be concerned about.¡±

    We exit the palace gate and step onto the Grimoires carriage that is waiting. Gordon waits inside. He narrows his eyes as Kierra takes the place beside him while the two thralls take places on either side of me.

    ¡°¡­suppose I owe you an apology as well,¡± Junior says to her reluctantly.

    ¡°That¡¯d be a nice, but I¡¯m more concerned about what you do from now on.¡±

    I clap my hands, drawing his attention to me. ¡°Exactly. Since we¡¯re all here, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve gotten the gist of things from Fen. She tells me that you¡¯re on board.¡±

    ¡°Not like I have a choice,¡± he grumbles. ¡°Either fall in line or be destroyed. Besides, without your support, I doubt I could stay in charge of the family.¡±

    ¡°Then here¡¯s to a happy alliance.¡±

    ¡°Quit it with the sarcasm. Let¡¯s get on the same page. What do you want? I admit, you¡¯re clearly not the same Lou as before but there¡¯s no way you¡¯d spare my family without expecting anything in return.¡±

    ¡°Obviously. You want me to be brutally honest? Fine. First, I want your money. Second, I want your influence to throw around where I please. Third, I want you to stop being assholes and lastly, change your name back to Mason.¡±

    Junior had been nodding along with the conditions, scowling but not surprised. Until the last one. That caused him to flinch. ¡°I can¡¯t just change my name!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not negotiable. You¡¯re the head of the family. Make it happen.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what those old coots will do if I say something as ridiculous as changing our names? There really will be a rebellion!¡±

    ¡°Which you¡¯ll win. What¡¯s the problem?¡±

    ¡°Because there¡¯s no point.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. There¡¯s a very important reason.¡± I pause, letting him stew in his curiosity for several long moments before I drop my stern expression and grin broadly. ¡°Because I want you to and it¡¯s amusing. That¡¯s the greatest reason in the world.¡±

    He¡¯s giving me a look that says I¡¯m crazy. Idiot. You can¡¯t argue with a godly being with a coefficient of over 5000. Kierra¡¯s giving me a smirk. Approval from all the people who matter.

    The succubi don¡¯t count. They¡¯d approve of anything as long as I throw them a treat.

    Junior sighs deeply. ¡°Whatever. I can¡¯t deal with you. As long as I¡¯m the head it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit. By the way, where are we headed?¡±

    ¡°For something to eat. Fen¡¯s had me running around so much I missed dinner and breakfast this morning. I swear, my stomach is going to eat the rest of me if this continues.¡±

    Ah, I sympathize with you. That feeling and I are intimately acquainted. Speaking of, it¡¯s about time I fill up again, especially with my pets eating me. ¡°Must be rough being bossed around by a thrall. If your ancestors could see you now~¡±

    I grin at the suppressed anger on his face. I¡¯m glad they convinced me to let him live. This is so much better. Thinking about him suppressing his anger for years, just like me, before finally giving up and accepting his lot in life is truly the perfect revenge. ¡°Of course, it¡¯s a big upgrade. The future of the Mason family is looking bright indeed.¡±

 ARC 2-Summoneréˆ¥æªš Revenge-Part 31-Epilogue

    Geneva enters the room before us. I think it¡¯s a little ridiculous but Kierra insists on it, practically forcing the practice onto me. Apparently, I need to start being aware of my safety and my contracted elemental is far more capable of defending herself than I can. Really though, who¡¯s going to attack me in the capital? Inside the home of a marquis? There¡¯s a limit.

    Someone could make the argument that Marquis Guiness himself could attack me but he¡¯s a merchant to the bone. Everything is about profit. It wouldn¡¯t be very profitable to kill us¡­if he could.

    Marquis Guiness gets to his feet as we enter his study. ¡°Lady Tome, Miss Kierra. The two of you look well.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for accepting my request for a meeting.¡±

    ¡°No need to thank me. Please, have a seat.¡± He retakes his seat as we sit down. I rearrange Bell into my lap, smiling softly as she watches the marquis with rapt attention. My arms have toughened up with two weeks of carrying her around but I¡¯m grateful for the relief. She¡¯s as heavy as she is adorable.

    ¡°Would any of you care for some refreshments?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps some water.¡± I don¡¯t care either way but it¡¯s good to let him think we¡¯re comfortable with him. No need to add tension in our conversation.

    Marquis Guiness makes a hand motion. A servant practically manifests from the wall and exits out a small door different from the entrance to the study. I don¡¯t even flinch. Everyone in my little group besides me, embarrassingly enough, noticed that servant on the wall, along with the other four just like him, the second they stepped inside.

    The astute merchant on the other side of the desk notices our non-reaction but I don¡¯t know what he thinks about. His face gives away nothing.

    [He¡¯s confirming his assumptions as to our combat ability and reassuring himself that the hidden knights are strong enough to protect him if anything goes wrong]

    But you can¡¯t hide your thoughts! Is it wrong to go digging in people¡¯s minds? Yes? Too bad! Only an idiot would purposely deny themselves an advantage, especially in the backstabbing, treacherous world we live in.

    The servant comes back carrying a tray that he sets in front of us before filling the three glasses with ice water. I take a small sip from my cup before handing it to Bell.

    ¡°You treat your elementals very well.¡±

    ¡°It is a partnership. The more you put into it, the more you get out of it. A sentiment I¡¯m sure you can understand.¡±

    ¡°Very wise. Perhaps the Grimoires would not be in such a predicament if they followed a similar philosophy.¡±

    As expected of him. He¡¯s only been in the city for a day but he¡¯s already apprised of current events. Junior¡¯s fears came to fruition after all. One of his older cousins gathered support and staged a coup. It did not end well. He and his supporters showed up in front of Junior with their knights and succubi and demanded he relinquish control of the family.

    Their hopes were swiftly dashed when the succubi turned on them, putting the favor firmly on Junior¡¯s side. The upstarts were arrested and now Fen is leading him into systematically rooting out the last vestiges of their supporters.

    ¡°Every barrel has its bad apples. Now that Junior is taking control, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be cleaning up their act.¡±

    ¡°Strong words of confidence. I didn¡¯t think the two of you got along.¡±

    ¡°Childhood disagreements. We¡¯ve both grown and matured. More than lingering over something petty in the past, it¡¯s much more important to come together for the future.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. It seems your family doesn¡¯t quite agree with you on that.¡±

    No, they do not. Uncle has been making the best of this event. The Grimoires grew by exploiting people¡¯s greed and secrets. Unquestionably respected but not liked.

    At all.

    Uncle has been playing himself as the architect of their destruction and building a firm platform.

    I almost forgot that the Tomes were once widely respected. Father¡¯s Zero Affinity Theory is the most groundbreaking advancement in summoning in his lifetime, if not the century. Not to mention that we¡¯ve made plenty of contributions to the kingdom in the past. We should be well-regarded but Grimoire Senior and his predecessors did their best to cripple our influence.

    Let him have his fun. What is it Father used to tell me? A man thrives off his ambition. Between them, they¡¯ve got many a broken dream. Riding this political wave has put a lot of life into them. Despite our current disagreements because I refuse to waste time with them, they are family. Seeing them prosper is good.

    As long as they don¡¯t go too far.

    Callous as it might sound, Junior is more useful than they are. I won¡¯t attack my family but I will protect him. It¡¯s the same as protecting my wallet.

    Not that the marquis cares about any of that. He got involved because the Grimoires are as much a threat to him as everyone else. Powerful merchants like him are bound to have a secret or two they don¡¯t want discovered.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Secret techniques for his products, contacts, smuggling routes, client names. Those would go for a high price to his competitors.

    ¡°You know the game. There¡¯s a lot of resentment between our families but at the end of the day, gold is king.¡± Which means profit reigns supreme. Over pride, over duty, and over love. In most cases. Cynical? Not at all. It¡¯s just best to accept reality.

    He smiles softly. ¡°Gold is king, is it. I like that.¡±

    Bet you do, you baby-faced viper. Ugh, you remind me why I wanted to escape into obscurity.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [This man is exceedingly calculating.]

    Aren¡¯t they all? I grab the empty glass from Bell. A servant quickly moves to fill it and I hand it back. Besides, I¡¯m counting on that fact. We¡¯ve done enough verbal fencing. Time to get to the whole point of this meeting. ¡°Marquis Guiness, about my proposal. I was hoping you could sponsor me for entry into the Grand Hall.

    ¡°You may not know this, but I was originally meant to study there before my unfortunate accident last spring. My acceptance was a near thing and, not to insult them, but I doubt the masters at the Grand Hall would bother considering me unless the request comes from one of¡­recognizable station.¡±

    ¡°I see. A sponsorship to the Grand Hall. I didn¡¯t think there was much they could teach you about summoning that your own father could not.¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°Indeed. It is our legacy after all. I want to participate in research.¡± I undo the top button of my tunic and pull out a small sheaf of papers. Need to make sure I get a nice bag to carry things in. ¡°Specifically, I wish to hold many conversations and compile more information. It¡¯s the original purpose of descendants of the Tome family. This is more than enough to sway the Head Summoner and I can pay my own way.¡±

    ¡°So, what you are asking for is my voice. Very well.¡± Marquis Guiness accepts the papers. ¡°I would be glad to do something so small. In fact, it would reflect rather well on my house if I were known to sponsor such an astounding summoner.¡±

    ¡°Ah, not just me.¡± I turn to Kierra.

    ¡°Yes. Marquis, I would also like you to recommend me as a Foundation teacher to this Grand Hall. I¡¯ll be counting on you to secure a great deal.¡±

    Foundation refers to physical training for both casters and knights. Casting doesn¡¯t require muscle but what is it they say? A healthy mind dwells in a healthy body. Besides, the biggest weakness of casters is someone getting into a physical confrontation with them before they can throw out any magic.

    The Grand Hall trains the best. That means their casters can at least keep up with knights.

    ¡°To sell me, you¡¯ll need to know the perks.¡± She raises three fingers. ¡°First, I have experience training soldiers and leading them into battle. Rather successfully. The reason being the second perk. I possess a pure physical affinity.¡±

    He perks up. No human has a pure affinity but we know of them. There¡¯s another term for pure physical affinity. Healing hands. They¡¯re the best healers in the world. I can personally vouch for Kierra¡¯s skill and her relentless teaching methods because of it.

    [Lou, he¡¯s practically salivating at Master¡¯s worth to the king. He will undoubtedly help us.] Geneva, who has been sitting quietly to preserve her meek persona, casually speaks in my mind. Honestly, I could have figured that much out. Just delivering this information to the king will curry him serious favor. She could save anyone from practically any injury. Whether she agrees or not, simply knowing of her as an option is priceless.

    Yet, Kierra throws in the biggest piece of all. ¡°Third, I¡¯ve heard that advanced classes take supervised trips to test their abilities. Maxine has mentioned that you inquired to my willingness to lead an expedition into the Enchanted Forest. As that is a place I am comfortable with, such could be arranged. Kill two drakes with one arrow.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the Grand Hall will be delighted to have you.¡±

    It¡¯s the speed with which he agrees. The way he says it, the conviction in his voice. It leaves no room for argument. I have a feeling we will be attending the Grand Hall whether the people there want us to or not. Hehe. I¡¯d say she got his attention. Not that she cares. She simply has business out that way.

    ¡°And you can forget about paying the entrance fee. As a sponsor, it¡¯s the least I can offer you.¡±

    Do you think I¡¯ll turn down your charity? Because I won¡¯t. ¡°Very generous of you, marquis.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it. As a patriot, it would be negligent of me if I did not promote such clear talent. You can leave everything to me.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll leave it to you.¡± We stand and he follows, grasping my outstretched hand. ¡°I¡¯ll take my leave now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d love to share a drink... but seeing your imminent plans, you must have a lot to prepare,¡± he says cordially, reading my refusal through my polite smile.

    ¡°It is just as you say. Then, have a good day.¡±

    ¡°Always a pleasure, Lady Tome.¡±

    I give him a quick bow before stepping from the room. Once in the hall, I let out a deep breath, a smile curling my lips. ¡°Whew~ That went well, that went well. I knew it would but the actual event is still a little tense.¡±

    Kierra chuckles beside me. ¡°I think if we had asked for one of his children just then, he would have handed them over.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± [Another human enslaved to his greed.]

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hard on him, Bell,¡± Geneva says. Outside of prying eyes, she¡¯s lifted her bowed head. ¡°He may be a greedy man but he¡¯s wise enough to turn it to his advantage rather than be devoured by it. That¡¯s the most useful kind. Imagine all the tasty treats he could have access to. Lou, are you sure you don¡¯t wish to make him a servant?¡±

    ¡°Bending people¡¯s will selfishly is a big no.¡± Just, ugh, on so many levels. Destroying your enemies, yes. Anything goes in the name of self-defense. But fooling around in people¡¯s head to get ahead? I draw the line. Especially against innocents. He may be calculating, untrustworthy, and cold, but he is still an innocent until I find out otherwise. ¡°Besides, you¡¯ve got me.¡±

    ¡°Coo coo~¡± [Master Lou is the best! Nothing on any plane can compare!]

    ¡°That so?¡± I say as I bring our cheeks together. She responds by holding onto me and wrapping her tail around my neck. It¡¯s a defensive measure against Kierra who likes to ruin my fun by snatching her away. I swear my wife feeds off other people¡¯s misery.

    ¡°If only she weren¡¯t so stingy.¡±

    I glare at Geneva but she gives me an innocent smile. Maybe I¡¯m not being strict enough with her? She¡¯s been making more derogatory comments lately. Sigh. It¡¯s impossible to be angry with her though.

    ¡°Now, now.¡± As usual, Kierra¡¯s the mediator. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Morality is not always a weakness. I¡¯d be rather disappointed if she resorted to such disgusting methods.¡±

    Haha. That might sound like praise to someone who doesn¡¯t know her. I do, so I know that is clearly a warning thinly disguised as praise. She may be a deviant but she is prideful. ¡°Besides, he is useful enough without putting him on strings.¡±

    At her words, we all wear smiles that would worry anyone who saw them. The Grand Hall is where the best of humanity¡¯s casters, inventors, and artisans come together. Its Grand Library contains all the accumulated knowledge in our history. If there is one place I can learn to fully wield my new potential, it¡¯s there.

    I wonder, how strong will I become with actual training? Cosmo had a monstrous coefficient. If I can obtain a portion of it through training, it¡¯s only a manner of time before I become the strongest caster in the Harvest Kingdom. Not to mention the fact that I¡¯m part elemental now.

    What if, like Geneva and Bell, I can evolve after growing stronger? Would I become closer to that god-like existence responsible for my rebirth?

    Just the thought makes me giddy.

    I¡¯m looking forward to the spring.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 1

    Winter has passed and spring has come to the Harvest Kingdom. For peasants, that means a return to the fields as the spring rains bless the land. For the nobles, the laidback winter socializing is over and it¡¯s time to get into the more serious spring socializing. Along with a few unimportant details like managing their territories.

    For me, spring means the next step of my new life as the daughter of the most glorious and glossy elemental in any dimension, Cosmo. Having secured Marquis Guiness¡¯ recommendation to the Grand Hall, my lovely wife, my almost-as-lovely elementals, and myself will soon be on our way to the greatest center of knowledge in the kingdom. The only place I can think of where I can learn to use my seven affinities.

    We¡¯ve been preparing for the trip for the whole of winter. That included quite a lot. For myself¡­er, well. Honestly, I didn¡¯t have much to do. I did practice with Geneva and Belolial on my spells but after my long years of slacking, what I¡¯ve learned is most of the basics I should have committed to memory years ago. And the training schedule has been rather lax compared to the torturous pace of my training in the Enchanted Forest.

    Why? That would be because of the absence of my torturer. Kierra has been very busy since we cleaned up the Grimoires, moving about secretly. What¡¯s she¡¯s been up to is anyone¡¯s guess. The woman likes keeping her secrets and when she¡¯s really determined, there¡¯s no prying them out. Since she seems intent on keeping it a surprise, I¡¯ve let her have her way.

    My patience was rewarded as, eventually, she released one of the secrets to me. My new wardrobe. In the commotion of Gordon Grimoire Sr.¡¯s arrest, she mentioned that I should have better clothes to reflect my growing status. I agreed but it wasn¡¯t an immediate problem. To be honest, I forgot all about it. She didn¡¯t.

    Working with our new favorite merchant, Maxine Guiness, she secured fabric and tailors. Now we¡¯re standing in the Golden Spider, the tailor shop owned by the Guiness Company, ready to see the fruits of her efforts.

    With its carpeted floor, tasteful decorations, and comfy furniture in place of a front desk, the room resembles a noble¡¯s lounge more than a shop. A noble who really loves entertaining because these couches are seriously comfortable. So much so that I¡¯m considering asking the price to take them.

    Geneva is sitting beside me and Bell, in her imp form, is in her usual place on my lap. Kierra disappeared with Maxine into the back a while back but Clef, the manager of the store is here to keep us company.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had a look at some of your wife¡¯s designs,¡± Clef says as a maid serves the room tea. ¡°She¡¯s got quite an eye. I¡¯d even go so far as to say it¡¯s a waste for her to be a warrior.¡±

    Whoa there. Them¡¯s fighting words. ¡°Better not let her hear you say that.¡±

    Clef sighs dramatically. The man does everything dramatically. Despite his silver hair and heavily wrinkled face, he has the flare and energy of a man a fraction of his age. Probably why he can handle the most popular tailoring shop for the upper class by himself. That and appointments. Knowing who is coming and when has to help.

    ¡°I¡¯m simply saying you must lend us that dazzling woman. Or get me a ride to the elven continent. If all of them dress that way, then mmph! I am simply in the wrong country.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know.¡± Kierra revealed that she had been working on my wardrobe but the designs are a mystery. The way this man gushes about them has me a little worried, to be honest. ¡°The clothes¡­they don¡¯t look weird or anything, do they?¡±

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    ¡°Weird? No, no! They are bold! Fierce! Just like your wife, hmm?¡± His eyebrows dance and I can¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°You must do them proud.¡±

    ¡­your voice was a little intense there. ¡°That almost sounded like a threat.¡±

    ¡°There is no greater criminal than someone who does not appreciate good threads. Deserves to be hanged with the thieves and murderers.¡± He sniffs in derision and takes a sip of his tea.

    Wow. I guess it¡¯s good to be passionate about your work?

    Kierra, wonderful and considerate woman that she is, walks in, saving me from trying to continue the conversation. Maxine is by her side and three of the Golden Spider¡¯s tailors are trailing behind her. She smiles at me and my chest is filled with warmth. Ah, I¡¯m never going to tire of this feeling.

    ¡°Lou, we¡¯re ready for you,¡± she says, crooking a finger in my direction.

    I stand, cuddling Bell who makes herself comfortable in my arms. ¡°I¡¯ll trust my body to you,¡± I say with a smile.

    ¡°Have I ever treated it wrong?¡± She pulls me into a quick kiss when I¡¯m close enough but shoves me toward her assistants before I can start to enjoy it. ¡°Geo, you¡¯re helping.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Master.¡±

    I¡¯m shuffled into a connecting room. There are six racks full of clothes, three on each side of the room. The wide walkway leads to a small stage surrounded by full length mirrors under six intense enchanted lights. Um¡­isn¡¯t this a little much for a place to change clothes? Starting to feel a little nervous.

    ¡°Alright. You three, get me the dark casual. Geo, you get her undressed.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need help getting undressed,¡± I say quickly, backing away from the approaching succubus.

    ¡°Bell, down.¡±

    Bell hops out of my arms and into Geneva¡¯s before perching on her shoulder. Geneva gives me a wide-eyed pout. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t make me disobey an order from Master, would you Lou? At least offer me a treat.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Stop trying to get extra pieces of me.¡± As a succubus, she feeds on the mana of her contractor, namely me. Normally, as mana moves through the blood, that would involve some bloodletting. It¡¯s easier on me to simply change to my elemental form and let her bite off a finger. Physically.

    Mentally, it¡¯s still a little traumatic watching someone eat me. Especially when she throws around the word ¡®treat¡¯. I mean, I think I was the one to use the word first but it just sounds¡­strange coming out of her mouth.

    The tailors come back carrying several garments. Kierra smiles at me and there¡¯s a hint of malice in it. ¡°Strip.¡±

    Sigh. If she¡¯s giving me that look, then there¡¯s no getting out of this. Beckoning Geneva forward, I surrender myself to her attentions. Her tail waves back and forth as she gets into her work.

    Damn succubus. Your fingers don¡¯t need to be in those places. I¡¯m definitely not being strict enough with her. Constantly testing the boundaries to see how far she can push me. I¡¯m a little sensitive to ordering her around because the last thing I want is to turn into the Grimoires but sometimes, I swear, she¡¯s just asking for it.

    In no time, I¡¯m down to my undergarments. Being seen by the tailors makes me embarrassed. For a moment. Thanks to Kierra, I¡¯ve got a pretty tough skin, in more ways than one. And once I get a good look at their expressions, all awkwardness dies.

    They don¡¯t see me as a nearly naked female. Those cold and appraising eyes merely see me as a convenient tool to display the styles Kierra designed. They¡¯re so professional I feel myself straightening up, taking on some of their tension.

    The clothes are passed over. I think I¡¯m dressing myself but Geneva¡¯s tail lightly smacks my hands away. Kierra also joins the fun. ¡°Close your eyes.¡±

    I obediently follow her words, letting the two of them move my body like a doll as they put the clothes on me from head to toe. ¡°Keep them closed,¡± my wife whispers next to my ear before I hear her move away. She¡¯s back soon and I feel cool metal being clasped around my neck. After that, I¡¯m sat down in a chair and my feet are put into something incredibly comfortable.

    Hands move through my hair, followed by a comb. ¡°Are you going to braid it?¡±

    ¡°Nah. That¡¯s basically saying I want the Tome family to acknowledge me. Have to find something new. I don¡¯t know. Cut it maybe?¡±

    ¡°I can see it.¡± The comb finishes its job and I am turned around. ¡°Open.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 2

    I open my eyes and take in my reflection. Huh. She sure loves her buckles. The vest over the white shirt has four, the silver especially sharp against the dark blue-violet material. Where did she even find a dye like this? It reminds me so much of Cosmo¡¯s coloring.

    The dark pants are baggier than anything I¡¯ve ever worn, three buckles on either thigh tightening it above the knees. A long, glossy black leather coat with a sharp collar and five silver buttons engraved with the symbol for magic hangs down to my knees, flaring out around my waist. Polished silver chain links hang around my neck and my dark boots have steel heels.

    Saints witness. Everything about this outfit just screams repressed anger. I look like a barfight waiting to happen. Especially with my¡­sharper features. I try to lighten the image by smiling. I aim for friendly. I get sinister and threatening.

    ¡°Well?¡± Kierra purrs leaning against my back. She grabs one of my hands and runs it over the jacket. Wow, that is amazingly soft. Is this even leather? What did she do to it to make it feel so soft? ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°If the goal was to stand out, you achieved it.¡±

    ¡°I hear a little displeasure.¡±

    ¡°No, no. I¡­actually like it. Especially this.¡± I finger the vest that reminds me so much of my divine benefactor. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­I look like I¡¯m about to slap faces, burn family crests, and runaway with a nobleman¡¯s daughter. Just wondering if that¡¯s really the image I want to go with for my big debut.¡±

    Kierra hummed. ¡°It¡¯s blunt. It¡¯s brave. It¡¯s strong. Everything that you are.¡±

    ¡°Mm. You¡¯re convincing me.¡±

    My breath hitches as she pulls me tight against her, one hand on my waist and the other over my throat. ¡°You look as good as I thought you would, dedia. It¡¯s taking all my self-control not to move my hand a little lower and take you right now.¡±

    Well, damn. I struggle a little to swallow past her grip. ¡°Did I say I like it?¡± I ask in a whisper. ¡°I meant I love it. Frickin¡¯ amazing. You¡¯re a genius.¡±

    She chuckles as she lets me go, stepping aside. ¡°Thank you. What do you think, Geo? Bell?¡±

    The two succubi look me over. Geneva licks her bottom lip. ¡°Yes. Master is truly gifted. Very distinctive. She¡¯s starting to look like a noble.¡±

    ¡°Coo coo!¡± [Master Lou is very striking! Your enemies will cower in your wake!]

    Cower in my wake? Sigh. Oh well. Already knew I didn¡¯t have the face to be called a princess or anything. Reaching out, Bell jumps into my arms and I rub our cheeks together. ¡°Thank you, Bell~¡±

    ¡°What do you all think?¡±

    At Kierra¡¯s invitation, the three tailors move around me. They all make vague sounds and gesture to each other as they circle me. What the? Do tailors have their own language? I can¡¯t understand a thing they¡¯re trying to say but I hold still until they finish their examination.

    ¡°Amazing. Lady Atainna, you must let me get you the name of my girl from the beauty parlor. With the right paints, your girl will look something truly fierce.¡± The woman gave an exaggerated shiver. ¡°You must let me see it just once.¡±

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    ¡°I just want to know how you get your materials this way,¡± a man said fingering my coat. His eyes are full of envy and admiration. Poor man looks like he wants to rip it off my shoulders.

    The last woman simply nods when she finishes her examination of me.

    Kierra is very satisfied with the praise. ¡°I was planning on having you try on a few outfits but I don¡¯t want you to take that off. You three pack up the rest of the outfits. Come on. Let¡¯s go show you off to the customer.¡±

    Ah, forgot that this was another scam of hers. She could have handled the work on her own but realized it would be easier to hire out some of the labor. From the moment we arrived in Summer Spire, Maxine Guiness has gone out of her way to make herself useful. Kierra isn¡¯t hesitant about using her at all. Naturally, she turned to the Guiness Company for her needs. When Maxine heard she wanted to make clothes, she¡¯d inquired about buying the designs. Today was the day for her to get a peek at Kierra¡¯s work.

    Show and tell time. I pick up my pace, liking the heavy thunk my boots make every time I take a step. Bell jumps out of my arms to grab the door, swinging it open wide as I walk through. Saints bless her, this elemental really does her best to support me.

    As I step into the lounge, I feel Bell climbing onto my shoulders, her tail wrapping around my neck as her hands grab onto my head. Maxine and Clef look up from their tea. The store manager gives me a sharp whistle, practically jumping up from his seat. ¡°Yes, yes! This is, mm, brilliant work!¡± He circles me, nodding his head repeatedly. ¡°Very dark, very dangerous. I love it!¡±

    Maxine is studying me with a much more reserved air. ¡°You look very handsome, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Handsome.¡± I smirk. Not the compliment most ladies want to hear when they get dressed up. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°As for the design, I don¡¯t know how well it would sell¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Clef barks, head jerking up. ¡°They will not pay? Nonsense. The clothes look good but, more important, they are new. They are different. For those who have it all, new and different are priceless. The designs will make good money if she is willing to sell. But I am more interested in this. Young miss, you must feel.¡±

    He beckons Maxine forward until she runs a hand along my new coat. My smirk widens as her lips part with surprise. Really starting to enjoy surprising people. ¡°What is¡­I think it¡¯s leather but that¡¯s impossible.¡±

    ¡°Apparently not for the magical elf.¡± Clef looked at Kierra who wore a smug grin. ¡°I am more interested in her refining methods and her source material but will she budge? No! Though I can¡¯t pretend I don¡¯t understand. I wouldn¡¯t want to share my techniques either.¡±

    ¡°Those are not for sale. Neither is the coat. Shirt, vest, pants, and boots are.¡±

    Maxine fingers my collar. ¡°I¡¯ve seen collars on shirts before but it¡¯s amazing how you got it so crisp. And this stitching is incredible.¡±

    ¡°It helps when you can move the fibers with your will rather than your hands.¡±

    The merchant goes to feel my vest but Bell¡¯s tail slaps her hand before her fingers make contact. She bares her tiny fangs as her four glowing eyes narrow. ¡°Coo!¡± [Insolent woman! She has no right to touch my master!]

    ¡°Ah, sorry about that Max.¡± I scoop Belolial off my shoulders. Thinking I¡¯m mad, she gives me a pitiful look. Jeez. I¡¯m a softy and I know it. The most I can bring myself to do is bump her cute little nose. ¡°Don¡¯t be so quick to hit friends, Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± [My apologies.]

    ¡°Alright. Tell it to her too.¡±

    I turn her around to face Maxine. The little demon bares her fangs again. In her defense, I think it was more reflex than a disregard for my words. After all, once she flinches away, the expression disappears, replaced by reluctant peace. ¡°Coo.¡± She can¡¯t speak directly to Maxine, as we don¡¯t want the world knowing how capable my ¡®little imp¡¯ is but it gets the point across.

    ¡°¡­apology accepted. I have to admit, I don¡¯t know much about textiles. Clef, I will go with your judgment. If you think the styles are good then I will provide the necessary investment.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. That is what I want to hear. Merchants just need to pour their money and watch us work. Magical elf! I will take whatever you are giving out.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s smile is nothing short of predatory as she guides Clef to one of the couches.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 3

    ¡°Someone¡¯s happy with herself.¡±

    Twenty minutes later, we walk out of the Golden Spider and wait on the curb outside with our arms linked together as Geneva fetches our carriage. With the warmer weather, more people are on the roads, though only the wealthier nobles and their well-dressed attendants can be seen given we¡¯re in the Affinity Market. As in, those without a well-developed affinity, which usually translates to a noble title, which usually translates to money, have no business here.

    We draw quite a bit of attention but that¡¯s nothing new. I am surprised that a few of the glances are directed toward me. Huh. I¡¯m actually standing out next to my elven bride. Feels nice not being constantly overlooked.

    Sigh. Just means it¡¯s going to be more annoying when it happens next.

    ¡°What was it you said? We don¡¯t need the money but it feels good to fill the coffers.¡±

    Ha! Don¡¯t let Clef hear you say that. Once they settled on the designs Kierra was willing to share, the negotiations started. She still insists I handle the business. Clef, the crafty bastard, played hard ball. The way we scrimped over every copper, let alone crowns, you¡¯d think both of us were desperate to feed a family. Really, an old man shouldn¡¯t be so stubborn.

    ¡°What are you going to do with all that money?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Marquis Guiness managed to negotiate staff housing in the Grand Hall. I suppose a good portion of it will go to redecorating. I fear these nobles have terrible tastes.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to hang skulls on the walls, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Depends. If there¡¯s enough room, I could mount a whole skeleton.¡±

    I laugh, half in amusement, half in dismay because I know she will really do it. And why not? A few tasteful furs would be nice. Brings back memories. Very happy ones, hehe.

    While I¡¯m reminiscing about the past, I notice something strange. Someone strange. The guy himself isn¡¯t remarkable. Average height, most of his features hidden beneath a handsome cloak. The problem is that he¡¯s skulking. This is a street full of nobles who flaunt their status with the same naturalness that they breathe. Why would one of them be trying to hide on an open road unless they¡¯re up to no good?

    He¡¯s heading right for us, a hand suspiciously shoved into a pocket. Hey, now. What do you think you¡¯re doing? I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re attempting to do but we are the absolute worse targets you could think of. I feel bad for the ignorant man about to put his hand in the wolf¡¯s mouth.

    Kierra turns my attention to her with a finger on my chin. ¡°Come now. You¡¯ll scare away the prey.¡±

    Of course, she notices him. ¡°This is kind of sad.¡±

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    ¡°What hunter is sad for the rabbit that falls into their trap? The beast can only blame its own incompetence. Ah, here he comes.¡±

    My head is turned but I can hear our probable assailant speeding up as he prepares for his attack. My hair moves and then there is a loud thump, followed by a pained screamed.

    I look over. Bell is on the man¡¯s chest, teeth bared, tail whipping dangerously. One of the man¡¯s hands holds a knife, the other covering his bloody nose as he watches the elemental on his chest with wide-eyed fear.

    Sigh. I walk around him and stomp on the wrist holding the knife. With a wince, he releases his weapon and I pick it up. ¡°Hi there,¡± I say, putting on a friendly smile. ¡°What in the world convinced you to attack us? Seriously, there are dozens of targets that were easier pickings. Explain this to me.¡±

    He looks me up and down. When he hesitates too long, Bell smacks him across the face, hissing menacingly.

    ¡°Okay!¡± the wannabe mugger shouts with a busted lip. ¡°I thought that a lady dressed like that in this district is definitely posing and the elf might have some good treasure.¡± Bell smacks him again and he quickly adds, ¡°And I didn¡¯t see an important house crest so I don¡¯t have to worry about offending someone too powerful!¡±

    Haha. I see.

    Posing, huh.

    Doesn¡¯t mind offending me, huh. ¡°Bell~¡±

    My eager little elemental looks up at me excitedly. ¡°Coo?¡± [Shall I destroy him?]

    Do I look like some kind of monster? Jeez, you guys need to value life a little more. There¡¯s no need to kill him over something this small. But apparently my reputation needs a little padding. ¡°That hand that would point a knife at me and my wife. Crush it. Completely.¡±

    She smiles, all teeth and no humor. Despite the thief¡¯s attempts to try and stop her, she grabs his hand. Her eyes glow even brighter as she casts. Then the screaming starts.

    It lasts a full minute before Bell lets go, leaving behind a black, deformed lump where a hand used to be. I hold out my hands and she jumps into them, settling herself in my arms. The thief is curled around his malformed limb, sobbing not so quietly.

    As for the onlookers? They watch with a mix of fear and curiosity. The ones close enough to see the damage are fearful, while those who only hear the screams are curious. There, that should be better.

    I admit, the thief¡¯s casual dismissal upset me. I can¡¯t go around wearing clothes like this and be treated like¡­like¡­someone to be taken advantage of. That just won¡¯t do.

    Finally, our carriage comes from around the side of the Golden Spider. Geneva hops down from the driver¡¯s bench, throwing quick looks between the sobbing man, the crowd, and my satisfied smirk. ¡°Sorry for the delay. The tailors were still loading the rest of your wardrobe onto the carriage and were loath to part with a few of the items.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just in time.¡± I step forward and open the door for Kierra. ¡°After you.¡±

    She chuckles softly at my gesture, climbing inside.

    One of the things I bought with the gold made off my map of the Enchanted Forest was a personal carriage. An extra-large one with room for my elf to stretch out her extra-long legs and seats wide enough for us to lay down on comfortably. Of course, the side is painted with my personal crest and colors, an open tome on top of a summoning circle with the symbol of magic drawn across the pages.

    The little bits of the summoning circle visible are taken from the one I used to summon Geneva. After a bit of discussion, she managed to convince me to add her in. It¡¯s more elaborate than I intended and any crafter I ever hire is going to have a horror of a time replicating it but, eh. It looks good.

    There¡¯s another delay as knights come in answer to the commotion. Geneva intercepts them before they reach my carriage, explaining the situation with the aid of a few witnesses. All the while, I can see the rest of the crowd eyeing my crest and whispering amongst themselves. Heh. We¡¯ll see if the next thief doesn¡¯t think twice when they see me and my ¡®unimportant¡¯ crest. Hmph.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 4

    Our journey to the Grand Hall begins in the morning. I¡¯ve had a good time preparing for it; trying to figure out Kierra¡¯s designs and failing miserably, taking advantage of the Guiness Company¡¯s impressive warehouse with Maxine¡¯s ¡®friend¡¯ discount, catching wild horses to pull our carriage. Good times¡­

    And because a cloud always passes across a clear sky eventually, there were annoying things to deal with. Marquis Guiness isn¡¯t the only one who wants to deal with Kierra. Every day, we find someone lurking about. As long as they don¡¯t come too close, it¡¯s easier to let them go but it¡¯s a bother to pretend that we don¡¯t notice them.

    It¡¯s even worse when they try to make friends. They don¡¯t have any good opportunities since we don¡¯t participate in any of the normal noble hobnobbing so they have to force it. It¡¯s always awkward and brief, but they can¡¯t seem to get the message.

    The most annoying of them all is my own family.

    Since the demise of Grimoire Senior, the Tome family has become far more involved in the social maneuvering of nobility. My relationship with them is still a little tense. Not so much with my father and cousins but definitely with my uncle.

    That man is spinning the story that he orchestrated the demise of the Grimoire family. Far more believable to the public than it was my doing. I don¡¯t mind. He can do what he likes as he no longer cares about what I get up to.

    Decorum demands he invites me to a farewell dinner. Decorum also demands I accept. As much as they annoy me, I don¡¯t want to completely severe my connections with them.

    Kierra told me before our poor relationship reflects badly on my own ability. I don¡¯t have to like them to find a way to use them. Though I actually like Matt. He¡¯s good people. Jac¡¯s okay as well. For those two, I can make an effort. I also have a more important reason for accepting the invitation.

    It¡¯s an early dinner so the sun hasn¡¯t fully set when we arrive. Passing off our carriage to a servant, I take in the place. There are more servants hanging about. Oh, they¡¯ve hired a gardener. Someone¡¯s cleaned up the mess of a front yard.

    As I¡¯ve taken notice of them, they¡¯ve also taken notice of me. I stand a little taller, practically prancing down the hall. A servant is there to guide us but I know the place well enough to ignore her and she has trouble keeping up with our fast pace, lagging despite half-jogging.

    In no time, we reach the dining hall and I throw open the door.

    The rest of the family is already gathered at the table. My uncle, Javarius Tome, is seated at the head of the table. Life has been breathed into the ambitious man¡¯s pudgy face, his dark eyes bright as a false smile appears on his lips.

    To his right are his children. First Matthew, who looks as calm as always. He¡¯s a stark contrast to the wealth of the room dressed in peasant clothes. Not much call for fine clothing for a man who makes a living doing hard labor in the city¡¯s construction crews.

    Beside him is Jacquellin. Pretty as a doll in her white dress which brings out her mocha-colored skin. A much better performer than her father, her perfectly crafted smile usually spreads across her face the moment a viewer lays eyes on her but when she looks up at me, her features remain neutral. Someone¡¯s not having a good day.

    Father is on Uncle¡¯s left, in a rare state. Like Uncle, he has an energy about him that was missing during my childhood and his social exile, but his gaze is faraway.

    Should be an interesting dinner.

    Uncle stands up as I step further inside. ¡°Lady Atainna, Lou. So glad you could join us. Sit down, sit down.¡±

    We¡¯re starting from the start then? Addressing my wife before me is a miniscule insult but an insult none the less. A part of me hoped that the man might extend a peace offering. Oh, well. It was unlikely and anyway, this is probably the more amusing route.

    I pass Bell to Geneva before taking the place next to my father, Kierra sitting beside me. I¡¯d love to have my elementals at the table but its more appropriate for them to stand with the servants. Hah. To think Geneva, a seventh circle don and a being capable of leveling this mansion with a flick of her wrist, is being regelated to stand with simple servants.

    It¡¯s a little mind-blowing. Belolial is not too far off as a fifth circle virtue. She¡¯s certainly a higher order of existence than my arrogant uncle.

    A servant comes by to fill our cups with wine. I ignore it. Was a time when I was more than fond of drink but after drinking elven brew, everything else is disgusting. One of the few things I regret about my time there. Sigh. I have to get my hands on a brewer capable of rivaling that magical drink.

    Uncle raises his cup, clearing his throat to grab the table¡¯s attention. ¡°This year has been a great time of growth for the family. Tomorrow, Lourianne sets off for the Grand Hall where her studies will add to the long history of our family¡¯s excellence. You have our greatest blessing. A toast, to the future of the Tome family.¡±

    The table drinks. I take a tiny sip to be polite, lips turning down at the taste. Hard to believe I used to enjoy this stuff.

    Unlike Uncle. He downs his cup with a satisfied smile, a servant quickly moving to refill it. Food is served and I preoccupy myself with that for a while. The wine continues to flow and soon conversation picks up.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Lou, do you know what you will be studying?¡± Uncle asks me over the rim of his cup.

    ¡°My spellcasting needs work but I am mainly going for research in summoning.¡± Father perks up at that and we nod at each other. After all, summoning is the one thing that we can bond over. That, and our hatred for the Grimoires but they¡¯ve already been dealt with.

    ¡°My notes on third affinity thralls were well received so I¡¯m sure to be given a good position.¡± That is not overconfidence. Not to mention the actual value of the paper, Marquis Guiness wouldn¡¯t allow anything else.

    ¡°Ah. Studying and researching for years on end¡­the costs will add up. It might be a good idea to consider finding some work. There are plenty of shops in the Hall¡¯s market. Your father did the same for some time.¡±

    Did this guy just try to discretely say he¡¯s not paying my fees? Screw you. I never planned on asking for your help.

    Father winces. ¡°I assisted other researchers as well. The pay was terrible but it was a good learning experience.¡±

    Your expression doesn¡¯t match your words. It¡¯s easy to imagine. My father is a proud man. Having to work under anyone would chafe I¡¯m sure, especially other summoners. I feel much the same way. Really, it¡¯s just insulting. ¡°No need to worry about that. I have a generous sponsor.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Marquis Guiness.¡± I hold back a smirk at Uncle¡¯s sour expression. The reason we were invited to the main house over the winter was because Uncle wanted to forge good relations with the powerful merchant family. While he had achieved his goal of social revival, his ties with the marquis hadn¡¯t developed as he hoped. Wonder if he blames me for that. ¡°He has generously agreed to cover any fees accrued during my stay at the Hall.¡±

    ¡°And why would he do that?¡±

    ¡°He was very impressed with my notes.¡± Stay out of my business, idiot. It¡¯s got nothing to do with you.

    ¡°Good, good.¡± His eyes say he doesn¡¯t believe me at all. ¡°The Tome family being associated with the Guiness family is greatly beneficial.¡± Huh? The Tome family? It¡¯s just me. You don¡¯t know the meaning of shame to just boldly declare something like that. ¡°It would have been great if I could have brought up marriage to one of his many sons but alas. Though we are more than fortunate. I have been in talks with Count Mareen about tying together our two houses.¡±

    I wince. Uncle is tickled like a boy who just got his first sword but Jac¡¯s face is harder than stone.

    More than anything, she wants power as a ruling member of society. As a noblewoman, her power is limited, her future even more so. A sad fate for someone with her ambition. In my opinion, she¡¯d be a better successor than Matt. Mainly because she wants it more. But unfortunately, the dreaded day of engagement has come before she could convince her father.

    ¡°Congratulations, Jac.¡± I smile brightly at her, chuckling at the way she holds back a frown. Is it wrong to enjoy her misery? Yes? Oh well. Already accepted I¡¯m not a nice person.

    Besides, I don¡¯t plan to leave her in her misery so it¡¯s fine to enjoy myself a little. ¡°Finally, a prince coming to sweep you off your feet. There¡¯ll be a pile of broken hearts in the capital.¡±

    I¡¯m not kidding. My cousin¡¯s beauty and ability to handle people makes her very popular. Amongst servants, artisan apprentices, and city guardsmen, none of whom her ambitious father would let her marry even if she liked them. Takes more than a charming smile to impress a noble family, which is why her engagement has already been pushed off till her nineteenth year.

    ¡°Please, Lou. The engagement isn¡¯t set in stone. Don¡¯t jinx it.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense! It might as well be set in stone. It is only a matter of which son to give you away to!¡± Uncle laughs and Jac¡¯s frown finally breaks free. Matt places a calming hand on her shoulder and it disappears. Look at that, sibling solidarity. Heartwarming.

    Dessert is finished and the dinner ends. Uncle stands up first. ¡°It¡¯s been an enjoyable evening but I shall retire first. Lou, Lady Atainna, best of luck on your journey. Feel free to visit home anytime. I¡¯ll be expecting letters.¡±

    Haha! Uncle, when did you learn to joke? As if I¡¯d waste the paper.

    Shaking my head, I stand up with the rest of the table. Father faces me and awkwardly clears his throat to grab my attention. ¡°My years at the Grand Hall were very formative. Pay attention and you will learn a lot. No need to wish you good luck. As a member of the Tome family, I expect you to show those fools the abilities of a real summoner.¡±

    For a minute, I think he¡¯s going to hug me but then he gives my shoulder one of his awkward pats. As expected. I¡¯m a little disappointed but it¡¯s also an act filled with familiarity. Ah, now that I¡¯m on the verge of making something of myself, my old grudges toward him aren¡¯t as sour.

    ¡°Ah, come here!¡±

    I reach forward and wrap my arms around him, laughing as he stiffens. A quick squeeze and I let him go, giving his shoulder the same brief pat he always gives me. Poor man. It¡¯s sad that you look so confused when your daughter gives you a hug. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, Father. Look forward to what I accomplish.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­of course.¡±

    Shaking my head, I leave the dining room, my elementals falling in line behind me. I lean against the wall outside of the door, looking sideways at Kierra. ¡°You were quiet.¡±

    ¡°Conversation is a bit tedious when the other party involved is mining my words for gold,¡± she says with a hint of amusement. ¡°Besides, what would we talk about? Your family doesn¡¯t quite share my interests.¡±

    ¡°And what are those? Hunting dangerous monsters, picking a fight with anything interesting, teasing people until they¡¯re ready to explode. Yeah, not really activities appropriate for nobles.¡±

    ¡°Your forgot one, dedia.¡±

    ¡°Right. Sexual deviancy.¡±

    ¡°I was going to say teaching.¡± She smiles brightly. Heh. Well played. ¡°Speaking of¡­¡± She reaches out and rubs my head, raking her nails over my scalp. ¡°I see you taking my advice to heart.¡±

    ¡°You mean the thing with Father? Well, you¡¯re right. No need to burn bridges, even if I never cross them. But you can forget about me trying to warm up to Uncle. That¡¯s just not happening.¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡± Her eyes narrow with annoyance. ¡°Chortling as he prepares to sell his daughter away like so much livestock. A disgusting practice your kingdom has. Tell me you plan to do something about this.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯ve really taken a shine to her.¡±

    ¡°I see potential in her. Some people are born to fight, some are born to lead, and some like her are born to¡­manage. And I admit, I¡¯m a little more sensitive to her plight as she¡¯s related to you.¡± She raises a brow at me. ¡°Why? Were you perhaps jealous?¡±

    No.

    Not really.

    Maybe a tiny bit. Come on, it was more of a reflex than anything.

    I scoff to cover up my embarrassment, knowing for certain I haven¡¯t fooled her. ¡°To be clear, yes I do have a way to help her out. The plan is actually to throw some money her way and put some claws on her. Sure she can handle things from there.¡±

    My wife gives me a look of exasperation and amusement. Before she can comment on my amazing plan, the door opens. Jac walks out, followed by her brother. I reach out and grab the siblings by their shoulders, making Jac jump. Nothing breaks Matt¡¯s icy calm. ¡°Hey, you two. How about we go for an after-dinner walk?¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 5

    Father walks out behind them. Hearing my invitation, his brows come down but he continues walking.

    ¡°Lou, I rather not deal with any of your games tonight.¡±

    Jac tries to pull away but I hold fast. Please. I spar with an elf with a pure physical affinity. Like some noblewoman who spends her free time knitting or some other nonsense can compete. She can do nothing as I pull her through the house and out the door. Matt comes along rather obediently, good man that he is.

    At the end of the road leading up to the house, I hold out my arm for Geneva to hand me my coat. Instead, my wife motions for me to hold out my arms and the succubus puts it on for me. Bell jumps into my arms as Geneva runs off to get our carriage. I have seriously got to get some servants. Having her do this kind of thing is really demeaning for someone of her station.

    ¡°I thought you said a walk,¡± Jac grumbles.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to walk back to the house, won¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Enough, Lou. Tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my last night in the city. Let me have my fun.¡± I chuckle at her glare. ¡°Keep frowning and you¡¯ll develop wrinkles overnight. What will your intended say when he meets his future bride that looks like an old woman?¡±

    ¡°Oh, piss off!¡±

    Whoa. That¡¯s real anger. I hold up my hands in surrender, not actually wanting to get into a fight with her. ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯m done now. See? Done. Though I¡¯m a little surprised you didn¡¯t manage to talk your way out of this one.¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°I wish. Count Mareen may only be a count but he¡¯s a vassal of Duke Rosefield and an established family of the noble faction. As if my father is going to give up the chance to get in good with the oldest and most politically influential families in the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Wish I knew what she was talking about but my knowledge of nobility is sorely lacking. I didn¡¯t even recognize one of the princes until we were standing in the palace and he was announced to me. Sad, I know, but I¡¯ve got more important things on my mind.

    ¡°You have no idea what I¡¯m talking about, do you?¡±

    ¡°Not a clue, no.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes, I wonder how we¡¯re related.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not that bad. Besides, working people really don¡¯t have time for that drivel. Matt, you¡¯re with me, right?¡±

    The quiet man shrugs. ¡°I can recognize the different crests and know enough about them.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lump him together with you.¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Kierra puts a hand over her mouth as she snickers. ¡°Slacker.¡±

    That¡¯s right, keep it up. We¡¯ll see who has the last laugh. Why do I need to remember these people¡¯s names? For the powerful, what I plan on being, that¡¯s another job for a subordinate.

    Speaking of subordinates, Geneva arrives with the carriage. We all board, my cousins suitably impressed by the space inside. I play around with Bell for several minutes before we stop.

    Jac looks out the window with a frown. ¡°Why are we stopped in the middle of the road?¡±

    ¡°Because there¡¯s no better place to meet than nowhere when you¡¯re trying to keep a secret,¡± I say without taking my eyes off my adorable imp. ¡°Just wait for a while. They¡¯ll be along shortly.¡±

    I¡¯m right. We wait for barely a minute before I hear the clopping of horses. Another carriage pulls up alongside ours. I hear Jac breathe in sharply. ¡°That¡¯s a Grimoire carriage. Lou, what the hell is going on here?¡±

    ¡°Relax, cousin.¡±

    The door opens, revealing Gordon Grimoire Jr. and Fendelheim, his contracted thrall. My old nemesis doesn¡¯t look too good. His portly figure has thinned and dark rings hang under his slightly swollen eyes. Most importantly, that arrogant spark has dimmed drastically, making him appear lifeless.

    In contrast, Fen is beaming. She¡¯s changed her looks. Before, she was a demure beauty with a perfect figure and pale skin, her only exotic feature her violet hair. She appeared strangely human, down to her dainty feet that had to be requested as succubi have hooves. Now, her elemental nature was far more pronounced.

    Though she kept the same features, her skin had a slight purple flush and her hair was silver, complimented by lilac eyes. A thin, silver tail waves behind her and her hoofed feet are on full display. She was charming before but now, with her otherworldly origins on full display, she has the attraction of power about her with the added bonus of confidence that comes with having control of her life.

    Well, more control.

    ¡°Junior,¡± I greet as he throws himself into the carriage. Jac shies away as he climbs onto the bench beside her. ¡°You¡¯re looking good.¡±

    All I get is a grunt in response.

    ¡°Lourianne,¡± a husky voice whispers in my ear as Fen climbs into the carriage. She leans into me, holding my arm against her chest. ¡°You haven¡¯t been to see me at all~ How unfair, when I¡¯m working so hard for you.¡±

    Wow, these succubi are shameless. Blatantly trying to tempt me in a situation like this. Though she¡¯s out of her depth. I have to contend with Geneva on a daily basis. This is nothing. My arm is in a great place right now though. I wish I could just¡ªactually, wait. I can.

    Pulling my arm free, I pull her closer and bury my face in her chest. The thrall squeals in delight, putting her arms around my neck and drawing me closer but I don¡¯t let things escalate. It¡¯s steadily being degraded but I do still have a sense of decency.

    ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± Jac asks.

    ¡°Since my wife is preoccupied,¡± I hear Kierra say over me, ¡°allow me to explain. As you can see, Junior here has become one of our vassals.¡±

    ¡°A vassal¡­¡± Junior¡¯s voice is filled with dissatisfaction but he doesn¡¯t refute. After over three months of being conditioned by Fen, he knows his place well.

    From the corner of my eye, I can see Jac¡¯s disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re kidding me.¡±

    ¡°Not at all. You see, the succubi have taken a liking to Lou. Whoever controls the succubi controls the Grimoire family. And whoever controls the Grimoire family¡ª¡±

    ¡°Might as well control the capital.¡± Jac¡¯s eyes are shining. ¡°Saints¡¯ damnation, what kind of wicked games did you play to pull this miracle off?¡±

    I raise my head out of Fen¡¯s chest to answer but Kierra pushes me back. ¡°The how isn¡¯t very important. What matters is that Lou wants to give you a chance. She thinks that you can make something of yourself, Jacquellin. But I have my reservations. I don¡¯t know you. So, tell me why we should bother to change your fate?¡±

    A deep inhale followed by a shaky exhale. ¡°¡­because I want to re-establish our family on Green Mountain.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 6

    Excuse me, what? I raise my head again, ignoring Fen¡¯s attempts to pull me back as I stare at my cousin. ¡°Did you just say¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Jac¡¯s eyes are wide with excitement. ¡°All of humanity gathered onto this continent after the Great War but our family isn¡¯t from here. We¡¯re from Green Mountain. There are records passed down through our family for hundreds of years. They talk about powerful elementals contracted not to a single summoner but to our bloodline, binding themselves to the land rather than to a person.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± I pause before saying impossible. If someone told me they could be swallowed by an elemental and gain six affinities out of it, I would have once said that was impossible. ¡°That¡¯s a very shaky foundation to use for traveling to a hostile nation. Green Mountain is ruled by the goblinoids. They aren¡¯t going to let you skip around and find our family¡¯s legacy, if it exists.¡±

    ¡°Which is why I need power and connections. The whole of Green Mountain isn¡¯t the problem. The Guiness Company proved that through their trade.¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you expecting to find? Most likely, whatever creature was there has long since decided to move on or died, if this crazy story is even true. It¡¯s been centuries.¡±

    ¡°How long can your succubi live? For that matter, your elven bride? Or any creature with a powerful amount of mana?¡±

    ¡°¡­point.¡±

    Jac turned to the window. ¡°Out there is our seat of power. I can feel it. And I¡¯m going to find it.¡±

    I turn to Kierra. Oh, good. She¡¯s wearing her bloodthirsty smile. Hmm. Wait a minute. Isn¡¯t Green Mountain the home of trolls? Saints¡¯ damnation! ¡°We¡¯re not going with her.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be a shame to not to visit your homeland, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Not a single one of them will reach you before I take its head off.¡±

    ¡°That almost sounds like a challenge.¡± Her smile stretches wider. Dammit, I just hit two of her buttons when I brought violence into this. Sigh. I knew I was getting into this when I married her.

    New goal. Get strong enough to exterminate all trolls in the world before Jac is ready to sail across the sea. I could also outright deny her but her goal sounds interesting. Didn¡¯t know she has such an adventurous spirit. More importantly, if there are all-powerful creatures who are contracted to our family, discovering them would be a great thing for me too.

    ¡°I assume you have a plan to make this happen?¡±

    ¡°Mm. In fact, it was considerably sped up due to your marriage. Marquis Guiness is the head of the Expansionists. They want to reconnect with the world but have to fight tooth and nail against the old nobility who established themselves in the war. I¡¯d like to join with his side and help with gathering knights and sailors willing to make the journey.¡±

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    ¡°And what of you, Matt?¡± Kierra asked, turning to my silent cousin. ¡°What do you think of your sister¡¯s plans for the family?¡±

    Matt nodded his head. ¡°Jac is capable. If she wants to do it, it will be done.¡±

    ¡°And what do you want to do?¡±

    ¡°¡­I am a builder. I do good work and I enjoy it. That¡¯s enough. In the future, I¡¯ll raise a good family. The Tome family is safe in my hands.¡± He looks sideways at Jac, giving her a faint smile. ¡°Let her do what she wants.¡±

    ¡°Good enough for me.¡± I clap my hands. ¡°You heard her, Junior. Make it clear to his Count Maroon¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mareen,¡± Jac interrupts.

    ¡°Whatever. Let him know that the engagement between his son and my dear cousin is a terrible idea. And get comfortable with each other. Let¡¯s make this exploration happen.¡±

    Junior gives me a tired wave. He doesn¡¯t even have the energy to make a weak grumble. Poor man. Not. You need another decade of hard labor to work off your own sins and you¡¯ve got the redemption of your entire family resting on your shoulders. Sleep? Might as well forget what that is, hehe.

    ¡°¡­you just made my engagement disappear in a carriage ride.¡±

    Hoho. What¡¯s that I see in the eyes of my cousin? Could it be admiration? It¡¯s buried under a good dose of confusion and sprinkled liberally with suspicion but it¡¯s there. Look how the tables have turned. ¡°Thank you, Lou.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. More than anything, this sounds fun.¡± There are so many ways this can go wrong. If they force their way onto Green Mountain, they could start a war. Didn¡¯t Cosmo mention something like hating peace? Marquis Guiness is a bit too sensible to let it happen but here¡¯s to hoping.

    And I can¡¯t wait to see the look on Uncle¡¯s face if she succeeds. Something tells me my cousin won¡¯t be willing to share her newfound power. ¡°We can talk with Maxine for you. Maybe you should start by apprenticing under the Guiness Company, build some trust.¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re making smart plans. Marriage really changes a person.¡±

    I¡¯m not even angry with that comment because she¡¯s right. Cosmo may have given me power but meeting Kierra gave me the confidence to use it. ¡°Uh-huh. Who¡¯s your favorite cousin?¡±

    Jac raised her brows. ¡°You want a hug?¡±

    ¡°Ugh. No.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Lou. If you hadn¡¯t¡­just thank you.¡±

    She bows her head in raw humility. Ah, saints, if you don¡¯t play along, I¡¯m going to get embarrassed. I reach out and give her shoulder a friendly pat, smirking at the way she rolls her eyes. ¡°Alright. That takes care of that. Time for everyone to head home. We¡¯ve got an early start tomorrow. I¡¯ll send letters from the Grand Hall.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Junior nudged open the door with his foot and threw himself out, hastily climbing into his own carriage.

    Fen pouts. ¡°It¡¯s your last night. Won¡¯t you let me stay with you? I want to give you a proper goodbye.¡±

    Eh? No, no, you crazy woman. I¡¯ve got two other succubi and an elf who want the same thing you want. That¡¯s enough temptation as it is. Do you want me to die? I¡¯m not sure what can kill me now but this definitely feels life threatening. ¡°Sorry, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°The pet can come.¡±

    I whip around to my wife, giving her a helpless expression. There is no sympathy, only amusement. ¡°You can still handle this much.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can you people wait till you get home first?¡± Jac turns her head away, giving an exaggerated shiver. ¡°This is so uncomfortable.¡±

    You? What about me!? You can escape in a few minutes while I have to survive the night! Where¡¯s the compassion? The empathy? After I just¡ª

    ¡°Mmphf!¡±

    My thoughts are thoroughly derailed as Fen pulls me into a kiss. Her tongue slips between my lips and¡­saints, why is it so long? She¡¯s practically licking the entrance to my throat. This is weird but¡­I¡¯m starting to like weird.

    I barely notice the carriage moving again as I push Fen against the wall.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 7

    ¡°Coo coo~¡± [Master Lou, it¡¯s time to wake up.]

    I¡¯m slowly pulled out of my dreams by a sweet voice. One eye opens and I see Bell crouched beside my head, one small hand on my cheek. The precious creature is holding a glass of water with her tail and offers it to me as I sit up. I rub her smooth head as I down the water, loving the smooth texture even more than wetting my dry throat.

    ¡°Bell~ You¡¯re so good to me. Unlike these deviants¡­¡± My eyes go to the other occupants of the bed. Fen is beside me with her arm around my waist wearing a sloppy smile. Drool leaks from the corner of her mouth. This woman is dreaming about eating me, isn¡¯t she? I teased her by partially transforming last night but she never got a bite. I mean, come on. I¡¯m not going to throw myself to whatever elemental wants a taste.

    I¡¯ve got standards.

    On her opposite side is Kierra holding Geneva to her. Those two are just something else. My wife is exhausted, hair strewn about wildly. Geneva is resting more comfortably but she is covered with scratches and love bites. Knowing that she can heal it, Kierra must have told her to leave them. After my strength gave out, I could still hear them going at it, coloring my dreams. Animals, the both of them.

    I hand the glass back to Bell and carefully leave the bed. As a more upscale hotel in the capital, the Golden Feathers¡¯ rooms have attached bathrooms and plumbing. With my connection to the Guiness family, we have the best suite at the top of the building, which includes a bathroom the size of a living room with a bath that could be used as a swimming pool.

    Bell goes off to fill the bath while I wash off. The room turns misty as a sweet smell hangs on the air. Before coming to this place, I had no idea what bath salts were. Now, can¡¯t imagine bathing without them. Going to be one of the worst parts of being on the road.

    Clean and feeling much more awake, I enter the bedroom and set about waking up the others.

    Fen is easy, though I have to fend off her reaching hands. Geneva as well and she helps with the problematic thrall. Kierra is resisting the urge to wake. In the end, I carry her into the bathroom. A little straining in my human body but no longer impossible.

    In the bathroom, I lovingly wash my wife before carrying her into the bath. Submerged in the hot water, her eyes finally blink open. She looks over her shoulder and gives me a sweet smile. ¡°Hello.¡±

    ¡°Hey, yourself. Ready for our big trip?¡±

    She yawns, flashing those sharp teeth. ¡°I believe I¡¯ll be sleeping through the morning. Our pets are very energetic. Though I was a bit surprised that your favorite didn¡¯t join in.¡±

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    I follow her gaze to Bell who is currently being scrubbed by Geneva. ¡°Probably for the best, Master,¡± Geneva answers with a chuckle. ¡°Bell has certain tastes and needs a firm hand.¡±

    ¡°Hoh? Sounds interesting.¡±

    ¡°Shall we say she¡¯s more of a giver than a taker? Not something her previous contractor appreciated I bet. Poor Bell was forced to hold back for years while that man enjoyed the harem she made for him. Wouldn¡¯t you feel bad for Lou having to endure all those passions without any¡­experience?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°Ah, that might be a bit unfair.¡±

    The look Bell gives me is uncomfortably intense. ¡°Coo~¡± [Master Lou¡¯s first time¡­I want it¡­]

    No, not you too! You were supposed to be the only one I can depend on in this storm of lust my wife is conjuring around me! Just thinking about them plotting against me makes me shiver. Holding Bell against my chest is never going to feel as innocent as it used to but I¡¯m not prepared to give it up. Sigh.

    After a long soak, everyone is rejuvenated and we prepare to depart. Geneva leaves to check the luggage and pull our carriage around while Kierra dresses and finishes a quick breakfast.

    I give our hotel room a final look. We stayed here for a season and made many fond memories but it¡¯s time to move on to the next phase of our lives. I fully intend to make even better memories in the future. With a smile, I close the door for the last time.

    I return the key at the front desk and I step outside, ready to begin the long journey to the Grand Hall. My carriage is at the curb as expected. However, there¡¯s several more carriages about. Nothing unusual but¡­amongst them I spot a shining gold carriage with several white doves mid-flight along the side.

    I¡¯ve got a bad feeling.

    A feeling that is confirmed moments later when Maxine Guiness steps around the back of my carriage and waves to me. Her usual dress is replaced with a lighter white number that is more suitable for travel and compliments her sparkling gray eyes.

    ¡°Max,¡± I shout, voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Guess this is just another one of those coincidences.¡±

    ¡°Would you believe it? My father has suddenly appointed me to help manage a small store in Quest.¡±

    ¡°Of course he did.¡±

    ¡°And since we are headed the same way, I thought it would be rather enjoyable to travel together.¡±

    ¡°Of course you did.¡± I¡¯m not terribly upset. Though the Guiness family has made no secret about wanting to profit from the elves, they¡¯ve been nothing but friendly and Maxine is rather useful to have around. There are few places the Guiness crest is barred from. Besides, if Jac¡¯s ambition becomes a reality, I imagine our two families will become a lot closer. ¡°I take it you¡¯re ready to depart? We aren¡¯t waiting.¡±

    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready, Lou.¡± Giving me a quick bow, she turns to board her own carriage.

    I shake my head at the sight. ¡°Persistent.¡±

    ¡°I rather like her,¡± Kierra says. ¡°You and I are her only chance to stand out amongst over a dozen siblings for a share of her father¡¯s empire. She¡¯s clamped onto us like a twilight leech. It¡¯ll take more than a few tugs to pull her off.¡±

    ¡°Great comparison.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I misspoke. The leech can be used for brewing. Far more valuable.¡±

    I turn to her with a raised brow. ¡°Leeches? Seriously?¡±

    ¡°If a twilight elf offers you a drink, there¡¯s no telling what¡¯s in it but you¡¯ll definitely enjoy it.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Learn new things every day. With the cheery thought of leech ale in my brain, we board our ride and pull away from the hotel. Maxine¡¯s convoy pulls in behind us and together we make quite a commotion as we leave the capital.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 8

    My recent experiences traveling on the King¡¯s Road haven¡¯t been great. First, I was abducted by a madman who used me as a component in one of the worst summoning attempts I¡¯ve ever seen. Then, on the way to Summer Spire, we were attacked by bandits. Admittedly a lot less dangerous than the first situation but it speaks to a pattern.

    But I won¡¯t let that color this trip. Surely, after two incidents, the kingdom would see to the security of its most important road. There¡¯s no way something could happen a third time in a row.

    What are the chances an hour after we stop for lunch on the second day, I feel the carriage come to a stop? What are the chances that when I look out the window, I see a suspiciously familiar log blocking the road? Haha.

    ¡­sigh.

    ¡°Nope,¡± I say, closing the wooden shutters and leaning back onto the seat while scowling. ¡°I¡¯m not doing this again.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t pout.¡± My wife is already pulling out her bow. ¡°A little exercise is good for you.¡±

    ¡°Am I cursed or is it this road? Because something is going on here.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps your country¡¯s armed forces are simply slacking.¡±

    Soldiers who didn¡¯t do your jobs, I hate you. Because of you, criminals of every kind are using this road as a feeding ground. Have some respect for your duty. If it was me, I¡¯d fire the lot of them and get contracted elementals to do the job. You don¡¯t see Geneva slacking despite doing boring tasks. You lot are only good enough to be bled for her meals.

    ¡°Attention traders! The Red Caped Bandits have you surrounded. Release your goods and we will allow you to keep your lives. Attack us and your lives are forfeit!¡±

    ¡°Red Caped Bandits? Saints, he sounds like a theatre troupe. How grandiose for someone the city guards literally refer to as Rat. No, you know what? He wants to do this? Fine. You ready, Kii?¡±

    Kierra slips her quiver onto her back and gives me a grin. Scooping up Bell, I jump out of my carriage.

    At the end of the convoy, Maxine is standing with a group of her guards, the men dressed in shining golden armor. Across from them, on horseback, is Rat. The same as before, there are several men in patchwork armor on horseback surrounding him. A dozen more in shoddy leathers stand beside them, eyeing the multiple carriages with greed.

    Rat is looking at the Guiness knights with unease but that turns to fear when he spots me. ¡°You!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it!¡± I bark when I see him grip the reins of his horse. ¡°You try running and she¡¯ll put an arrow through your neck. Think you can get away a second time?¡±

    The bandit swallows and lets go of the reins, shoulders slumping. ¡°I surrender.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± one of the men next to him hisses. ¡°What do you mean surrender? Who cares about their fancy armor, we can take them. Just think of all the gold behind them.¡±

    ¡°Fool! I don¡¯t care about the knights. I care about the monster we can¡¯t see.¡± His head swivels, searching for the elf that nearly killed him and decimated his forces.

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    ¡°Scared of a little girl. Forget you! I¡¯m getting that gold!¡± The crazed bandit pulls his sword from the scabbard on his waist and urges his horse forward.

    Two gallops. Then an arrow cuts through the air and embeds itself in his neck, knocking him off his mount. The other bandits abruptly pause as they were preparing to follow him, eyes wide. Even the knights beside me are caught off guard, hands leaving the hilts of their weapons and mana being retracted from spells as their target goes down. Both groups are looking for the source of the attack but Kierra is a ghost.

    I clap my hands, drawing their attention. ¡°Anyone who doesn¡¯t want to die, dismount, drop your weapons and lay on the ground. That goes for you idiots hiding in the trees as well!¡± I add while raising my voice. ¡°Run if you want, but you won¡¯t get too far with your leader captured!¡±

    Rat doesn¡¯t hesitate, swiftly dismounting and pulling off his weapons. The others follow, obviously not happy. They take too long and another arrow knocks one of the men off his horse, panicking the animal as its rider falls off its back.

    That gets them moving. There are a few screams from the side and a ragtag group of youths flee from their shoddy cover and lay on the road.

    Once all of the bandits have surrendered, Kierra walks out smirking while carrying a struggling child in her arms. A young girl. A little hard to tell through all the dirt and grime. ¡°Quite the catch there, dear wife.¡±

    ¡°The only one who didn¡¯t surrender.¡± She moves her head away as the young girl tries to punch her. ¡°I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s brave, stupid, or rabid, but there¡¯s no reasoning with her.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    I hold back a laugh as one of the boys speaks up. He¡¯s trying to meet my eyes while obeying the instruction to lay down. Reminds me of a creature called a seal I once saw in a book.

    ¡°She¡¯s not a bad girl. She¡¯s just scared. Please don¡¯t hurt her!¡±

    ¡°And you are¡­¡±

    ¡°Earl, her brother.¡±

    ¡°Well, Earl, if you don¡¯t want her hurt you should get her to calm down.¡±

    ¡°Can I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, idiot, that¡¯s your cue to get up.¡±

    The boy hurries to his feet. He quickly approaches Kierra who drops the child. The surprisingly agile child who lands on her feet. She looks ready to lunge at Kierra but Earl scoops her up. ¡°That¡¯s enough, Ann. That¡¯s enough.¡±

    She struggles a little more but eventually calms down in her brother¡¯s arms. Jeez, she can¡¯t be more than six or seven. What could have happened to make her so angry? My plan was to leave them here for the next patrol to pick up but with the state of the road, that could be days from now. And what would they do with the children?

    I¡¯m not a softy. Seeing the dozen or so youths lain out on the road tickles my heart a little bit but I¡¯m a realist. There are hundreds, if not thousands of orphans, in the kingdom. Poor children whose parents die fighting strong manabeasts, unwanted children a peasant family can¡¯t take care of, the poor bastards of a noble who can¡¯t keep it in his pants.

    No, this is a matter of security. Despite their unfortunate starts, those children find their place in society. As menial labor or small-time bandits that give the guards a chance to earn their gold. But this Ann¡­

    Saints save her, she¡¯s like a wild animal. I swear I hear her growling at us. It¡¯s ones like this that grow up to be the especially cruel criminals that raze villages or the insane type that does something horrifying like eating their victims. I know about these things as my father¡¯s small village was plagued by such a bandit once. It was¡­nasty.

    Ugh. Saints know the guards aren¡¯t going to give the girl the attention she needs and I¡¯m finding it a little difficult to just ignore the situation. Ah, what should I do¡­

    Oh, wait. I need servants. The brother who must be at least fourteen seems sensible. And he had the guts to speak up to save his sister. Speaks to his character. With him and a decent upbringing, maybe the girl won¡¯t turn into a maniac. Or maybe she tries to kill me in my sleep. Either way, having her around should make things interesting.

    That thought settles it. These siblings must be Cosmo¡¯s blessing to me, delivering me events that are ¡®amusing¡¯. Good, good. I won¡¯t disappoint!

    ¡°Eh, Earl was it?¡±

    The brother raises his head, looking at me with apprehension as he keeps his sister pinned to his lap.

    ¡°Do you have any work experience?¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 9

    ¡°¡­huh?¡±

    He¡¯s not the only one giving me a confused look. It makes me want to laugh which only convinces me more about my decision. ¡°Skills, boy.¡± Even though he¡¯s not much younger than me. ¡°Cooking, cleaning, sewing. Am I making sense?¡±

    ¡°I, um, I¡­my father used to work in a manor. I helped, er, my lady.¡±

    ¡°Good enough. You¡¯re hired!¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Let me put it this way. You can either come work for me or you can stay with these people and get dragged off to prison.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± he shouts immediately. ¡°But, um, I can¡¯t leave my sister.¡±

    He puffs out his chest as he declares that though his eyes are gloomy. How touching. I don¡¯t have any siblings so it¡¯s hard to relate. Would I be thrown into a damp dungeon to stick with Jac?

    Saints no.

    ¡°She can come along too if you can keep her under control.¡±

    ¡°Yes! I¡¯ll definitely make sure she behaves. Thank you, my lady!¡±

    ¡°None of that. And why are you still sitting there? Go over with them.¡± I jerk my finger in the direction of the Guiness knights. Earl slowly climbs to his feet and walks over, holding onto his sister tightly with a bewildered expression. The knights step aside to make room for him beside them, the boy looking vulnerable between their impressive statures. Heh.

    ¡°Alright. The rest of you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    I turn to the shouter. Oh, it¡¯s Rat. He looks rather excited about something.

    ¡°If it¡¯s servants you¡¯re looking for, then take me!¡±

    ¡°Eh? Why would I want to do that?¡±

    ¡°I can serve as a guard.¡±

    ¡°Are you stronger than my wife?¡±

    I laugh as he grimaces but the bandit isn¡¯t done selling himself. ¡°I¡¯m a great cook! One bowl of my bear stew and you¡¯ll never want to eat anything again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I can hire a better cook in the cities. You know, people who¡¯ve spent their lives dedicated to food rather than robbing people. And your name is Rat. Can¡¯t say I¡¯m comfortable with someone named Rat cooking my food. Just doesn¡¯t sound like a good idea.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not my name! The guards started calling me ¡®street rat¡¯ and refused to use my real name. It¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey now. I know it¡¯s not the best name out there but you shouldn¡¯t disrespect the name given to you by your mother. It¡¯s filled with love.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, my name isn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°And a second thing. You say you want to be a servant of mine but you¡¯re already talking back. Tell the truth, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re really servant material.¡±

    The bandit flinched. ¡°That¡¯s not true. I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright. Glad we settled that. You enjoy your stay in prison.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± the man shouts again, continuing to plead his case. To make matters worse, the others join in, pleading their cases. Huh? When did this become a mass interview? I decide to grab a few poor orphans and now everyone thinks I¡¯m some kind of saint here to absolve them of their sins and lead them to a better tomorrow.

    ¡°AHH, SHUT UP!¡± My voice snaps out with surprising strength, causing a break in the ruckus. I stomp over to the closest Guiness knight and motion for their sword. After a quick look to Maxine, who nods, the knight hands over his weapon and I stomp back toward the bandits with narrowed eyes.

    ¡°You all want the spot so bad? Okay. This is how we do it. Starting from you,¡± I say pointing the blade at the one on the farthest right, ¡°feel free to make your case but if I don¡¯t find you interesting then I¡¯m going to stab you.¡±

    Nothing makes people rethink their life quite like brutal violence. Speaking from experience. Standing close enough to make out each individual bead of sweat on his brow, I hold the sword above him, the point hanging ominously over his chest. ¡°Go on. Take your chance.¡±

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    ¡°Ah, aaaa, um, I¡¯m¡­fine with going to prison.¡±

    ¡°Great. Next.¡±

    The bandit clears his throat. ¡°I was born in¡ªgahh!¡±

    His words are cut off by a scream as I plunge the sword down, the weapon easily piercing through his shoddy armor. I pull it free and he coughs up blood with his next breath.

    Uh, that looks bad. Is he dying? He might be dying.

    ¡­whatever. Kierra can help him if it looks like he¡¯s going to slip away on us. But they don¡¯t know that, heh.

    I give the rest of the bandits a look and they flinch away. ¡°Your life stories aren¡¯t interesting and I have somewhere to be. Next.¡±

    The next ten decide not to plead their cases. Even Rat skips his turn but the man beside him goes for it, taking a deep breath before shouting ¡°I love pretty flowers!¡±

    ¡­okay, wasn¡¯t expecting that. ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°I want a garden of pretty flowers. But the prettiest ones are poisonous. Gave one to a friend and he used it to kill a noble. I was also accused and now I¡¯m a wanted man so I have to be a bandit when all I want to do is take care of my babies!¡±

    Short, humorous, and pitiable. Not bad. I move the sword away and take a step back. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Gajin, milady.¡±

    ¡°Gajin, get up and join the kids.¡± He blinks at me, disbelieving. Then he hastily gets to his feet, giving me a clumsy bow while muttering his thanks. I shoo him off to the others. The next dozen in a half are busts and I stab one more before I arrive at the last bandit.

    ¡°And? What do you have to say for yourself?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. Prison or death, doesn¡¯t really matter.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    The young man looks up to me with dark eyes dead to the world. That goes beyond boredom and mere indifference. He truly doesn¡¯t seem bothered by the idea of dying. ¡°I¡¯m just a ghost anyway. Living one second more is already a surprise.¡±

    ¡°¡­do you even want to work for me?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯d want such a useless vessel but I can give it to you.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­okay?¡± This one is confusing. Almost as confusing as he is depressing. But even that is interesting, which makes him much more valuable than the rest of the rabble. ¡°Do you have a name?¡±

    ¡°Trash.¡±

    ¡°¡­seriously?¡±

    ¡°That is how the one who raised me most often referred to me.¡±

    Ouch. That¡¯s just sad. ¡°Is there another name?¡±

    ¡°They also called me Nomad.¡±

    ¡°Nomad.¡± I let out a sigh of relief. ¡°I can work with that. Up you go.¡± I move the sword away and give him a helping hand. He lumbers over to the knights like the walking dead. ¡°You guys can tie them up now,¡± I say handing the sword back to its owner. ¡°You four, follow me.¡±

    My new servants follow me to my carriage as the knights handle their ex-compatriots. Kierra appears at my side, wearing a smirk. ¡°Are you sure this is a good idea?¡±

    ¡°Hm? Not at all. But it¡¯s fairly low risk. I mean, what are they going to do? I can take them all. I¡¯ve been considering getting servants for a while and took advantage of the opportunity. Besides, it was amusing at the time. They¡¯re some interesting characters.¡± The loyal brother, the feral girl, the man who became a bandit because of poisonous flowers, and the living ghost. Sounds like a weird band of heroes from a bard¡¯s song.

    ¡°I have to agree with that. This Gajin may also be interesting. I¡¯ve been meaning to import a few plants.¡± She pulls out an arrow, waving it. ¡°There isn¡¯t much need for it but I would like to have my toxic coatings available in case something worthy passes us.¡±

    She wants to be deadlier? Great. ¡°Of course, dear.¡±

    Geneva is standing in front of the carriage carrying Bell. My imp jumps toward me immediately and I catch her reflexively. After three months carrying her around, I barely notice the strain. ¡°I suppose you heard all of that?¡±

    ¡°I did. These¡­ruffians are hardly suitable to serve you but I suppose they can be molded into something.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± [I would be more than happy to handle anything you need, Master Lou. There is no need for these inferiors.]

    ¡°Aw. But if I had you doing those things, I wouldn¡¯t be able to cuddle you all the time.¡±

    ¡°Coo coo!¡± [I am always glad to accompany you!]

    ¡°You¡¯re so sweet, Bell. Alright. Servants, we¡¯ll work out the details of your employment later. For now, introductions. This is my lovely wife, Kierra, and the cute thrall there is Geo, my contracted elemental. Their orders are my orders. The adorable imp in my hands is Bell. She¡¯s not too friendly to strangers so watch your fingers. Good? Great. Now, who can drive a carriage? Anyone?¡±

    ¡°The dreariness of the road is a fitting analogy for the bleakness of my life,¡± Nomad responds.

    ¡°That a yes?¡± I let out a sigh as he gives me a faint nod. ¡°Then you can take over. Since we don¡¯t have a second carriage, the four of you are just going to have to share the driver¡¯s bench. I¡¯ll get you some blankets and cushions or something later. Good talk.¡±

    My new servants murmur their thanks and follow my orders. Lucky for them, my carriage is made extra-large so there¡¯s enough room for them without being squeezed together.

    Before we all board my carriage, I spot Maxine approaching. ¡°Are you going to tell me that you want my servants? I¡¯m sure the capital¡¯s courts and dungeons won¡¯t miss them.¡±

    The merchant waves me off. ¡°No, feel free. I was wondering if you needed any extra supplies since you¡¯ve suddenly taken on more bodies.¡±

    ¡°Never missing a chance to do business.¡±

    ¡°Please. Something this small is nothing between friends.¡±

    This girl is shameless in her efforts to get closer to us. However, after a few months, I¡¯ve grown both accustomed to it and appreciative. ¡°Thanks, Max. One of these days we¡¯ll have to do something for you besides opening new trade routes.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well. There goes all my plotting.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we can invite you to dinner,¡± Kierra offers with a grin. ¡°Once we¡¯ve redecorated our residence, you can give us your opinion.¡±

    Maxine gives a small bow. ¡°I would be delighted. Please let my subordinates know if you need anything. If you give us a few moments to finish this business with the bandits, we will be ready to continue.¡±

    ¡°Sure, take your time.¡±

    Finally, I board my carriage again, letting out a deep sigh as I settle onto the bench. Not the worst way for an ambush to end but I swear, I am writing an official complaint about this road.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 10

    I would like to say that the bandits were the end of our troubles but my misfortune held strong. We had the displeasure of wandering upon a manabeast as it crossed the road.

    Manabeasts are special animals that can use mana. Some quirk of nature gives them a pure affinity. Then of course, there are the manabeasts who live long enough to gain sentience, becoming divine beasts. Those can gain another affinity and can cast spells rather than fling the elements around.

    There is something uniquely terrifying about a being with paws and fur having the intelligence of a person. Thank the saints we came across nothing like that but meeting a manabeast was still rather unlucky. As an extreme danger to the average citizen, knights regularly suppress their numbers, driving them far away from settled lands.

    The wild dog, too small for me to see it as a wolf, was relatively harmless with its air affinity but quicker than a thief in the night. I managed to convince Kierra to let the knights handle it. Honestly, the men are getting paid to work so let them work. I mean, the thing was practically a weasel. Not something worth getting worked up about.

    Besides that, the journey is smooth if not droll. After fifteen long days, we arrive in Quest.

    A particularly interesting name for a city but it got its name for attracting a particular group. They have many names. Adventurers, explorers, and hunters are only a few. Those who take private commissions to hunt manabeasts or explore the wilder parts of the kingdom.

    Northwest of the city lies the only entrance through the Bleak Peaks, tall mountains whose peaks disappear into the permanently cloudy sky above. The north is a wild land brimming with mana. Some of which flows naturally into the valley that hosts the western half of the kingdom.

    The area surrounding the city has extremely high concentrations of manabeasts and magical plants compared to anywhere else in the kingdom, naturally drawing those who make their livings from them. Not to mention the money that can be made from protection work, research, and crafting.

    As such, the sprawling city rivals the capital in size, though it is far less uniform from what I can see as we approach. A large stone wall made of white bricks surrounds the city, nearing the height of the royal palace. Unlike other cities, there is no gate, showing their caution against the surroundings.

    Instead, after transforming my eyes into those of the dusk hawk, I can see visitors to the city being raised to the top of the wall via a stone platform raised up by earth casters. Heh. Truly a city where the elite gather.

    And above it all is the Grand Hall.

    Saints damn you, stupid father of mine. How come in all your stories about this place, you neglected to mention it¡¯s airborne? I almost can''t believe my eyes. A piece of land is hovering over the city¡¯s center!

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    How? The amount of mana it would take to keep a single building, let alone an entire piece of land, in the air for an extended period has to be astronomical. Not to mention whatever complex equation needed to have it remain in one place. What about the people living beneath it? Aren¡¯t they troubled living in the constant shade? I have so many questions.

    ¡°You seem excited,¡± Kierra says, leaning over my shoulder to look out the window with me. ¡°¡­impressive. This is perhaps the first time I¡¯ve considered humans, as a species, comparable to elves. I can¡¯t even imagine how that is possible.¡±

    I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not the only one impressed by this. My wife¡¯s comment makes it more awe-inspiring. Is it okay that I take pride in the accomplishment as a fellow human despite having nothing to do with it?

    Huh? That¡¯s shameless? I¡¯m not even human anymore?

    Irrelevant.

    ¡°What do you think, Geneva?¡± I ask with a hint of smugness.

    ¡°Hm. From the amount of mana in the air, it¡¯s nothing as impressive as lifting the land up. Most likely a natural stone formation that has stored an abundant amount of wind mana. The land most likely used to move with wind currents. This kingdom¡¯s casters must have used a spell to bind it to its current location. Still impressive enough, I suppose.¡± She tilts her head, taking in my blank expression. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯ve kind of taken the awe out of it.¡±

    ¡°Upset it wasn¡¯t the grand display it seems? Looking at the world through the film of wonder might be refreshing but is also limiting. Magic is not something beyond your reach like the moon and stars. It is something to be broken down, understood, and turned to your advantage.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re really starting to sound like my tutors.¡±

    ¡°I should hope not. They did a terrible job.¡±

    I wince at the not-so-subtle jibe at my lackluster abilities as a caster. I point at her with a frown and open my mouth for a rebuttal¡­but the words die before they can come out.

    It¡¯s hard. Objectively, she has very few faults and none that I can comment on myself. Sigh. Just wait. I am your summoner after all. I¡¯ll find a way to get back at you.

    I go back to admiring the floating city as our convoy draws closer. Maxine¡¯s carriage speeds up, appearing beside us before overtaking us.

    There are four lines; one for commoners on foot or horseback, one for merchant caravans, one for nobles in their personal carriages with the last being one for nobles traveling with a large entourage and merchants wealthy enough to afford the privilege of a shorter line.

    The Guiness family is both noble and privileged. With the crest of the golden family leading the way, we skip all the way to the front of the fourth line. The obligatory inspection is practically waived, the guards giving the carriages a quick scan before moving on. My stomach flops as the earthen platform we¡¯re on suddenly shakes, then slowly climbs into the air.

    If it were before, my jaw would be dropped in awe as the ground moves away, the people left behind shrinking as we climb higher into the air. Having the experience of flying with my own wings, something like this can only be titillating at best.

    Once we reach the height of the wall, I see the guards standing atop it, some watching us in case of trouble while dozens moved about on their business. For as far as I can see, every inch of the wall is manned by a soldier. Not even the capital has that kind of security. Makes me wonder what¡¯s out there that has them so cautious.

    As our platform moves across the wall to the opposite side, I see an empty platform pass us, ready to pick up the next load of passengers. A short descent later, we are in the city.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 11

    Someone knocks on our carriage door. Switching my nose to that of a wolf¡¯s for a moment, I breathe in Maxine¡¯s scent and gesture for Geneva to open the door. The young merchant gives us a radiant smile. ¡°We¡¯ve arrived a little later than expected but there¡¯s still plenty of time before the semester starts. We could head straight for the Grand Hall or we could stay and explore the city for a few days. There isn¡¯t a place like it in the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°We?¡± My eyes narrow as I stare her down.

    ¡°Did I forget to mention it? The branch I¡¯m joining is in the Grand Market inside the Grand Hall.¡±

    ¡°Course it is.¡± A leech. A leech with a thousand tiny, curved teeth that are dug into my flesh. ¡°We do have to make it up there early to prepare our house and whatnot. And it would be good if I could familiarize myself with the place before my schedule becomes too busy.¡± I can¡¯t wait to put my feet on that floating city. I¡¯ve always loved stories of adventure in fantastical places. Seeing something like this gets my blood pumping. ¡°What does the city have to offer?¡±

    ¡°Many kinds find their way to Quest. There are many styles of architecture to admire, most notably the Merciful Crypts that holds the Parade of Saints. Then of course are the shops. There are all kinds of cuisine and the several places to find raw materials for Miss Kierra. And I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll want to explore the Myriad Zone.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve wondered about the part of the city that lies beneath the Grand Hall. From what I understand, there is a special barrier in place to divert the sun¡¯s rays around the Hall so that the city is not in perpetual darkness but the spell distorts colors. When the sun rises, the area could be bathed in everything from rose pink to the incredible bright blue of a moonflower and it changes again at night. It¡¯s quite the attraction amongst travelers.¡±

    Yup, have to see that. ¡°I suppose we can explore for a bit. If you¡¯re fine with it?¡± I turn to Kierra to see what she thinks. Should have known better. The elf¡¯s eyes are alight with curiosity. The woman sticks her nose into anything that can amuse her. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re staying. I don¡¯t suppose you also know a good place to rest.¡±

    ¡°It just so happens that the Guiness Company has two branches of the Golden Feathers here in Quest.¡±

    ¡°Of course¡ª¡± I stop before I can finish the retort. I¡¯ve been saying that so often it¡¯s starting to sound redundant. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s smile twitches as she stops herself from laughing. ¡°Would you prefer to stay inside the Myriad Zone or outside? I personally recommend the former. Our best suite has the most unique views.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell your driver to follow behind us.¡± With a short bow, Maxine closes the door.

    ¡°How much do you want to bet that the room will be free?¡± I ask as we start moving again.

    ¡°You have to admit, the constant shower of favor has changed your opinion of our merchant for the better,¡± Kierra responds with a chuckle. ¡°At first, I could practically feel the suspicion you held her under but I daresay you have become used to her attentions.¡±

    ¡°No! It¡¯s just that it¡¯d be stupid to turn it all way. Who turns away free stuff?¡± Just because I take her money and favors doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m won over. I¡¯m not that easy!

    My wife chuckles with an expression that says she doesn¡¯t believe me. A hand combs through my hair. ¡°My Lou is weak to being spoiled after all.¡±

    ¡°What a sloppy master I have,¡± Geneva says with a tsk, her tail swaying in amusement.

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    Sigh. Now they¡¯re ganging up on me. I raise Bell up so our eyes are level, grinning at the way her chubby tail swings. ¡°You respect me, don¡¯t you Bell?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Master Lou is the best!]

    Yes, yes. That¡¯s it. Those two evil women can try as much as they like to break me down but Bell will be there to soothe my soul. ¡°We¡¯ll see how long you two can keep acting so superior. One of these days, whether it¡¯s one year, two, or fifty, I¡¯m going to surpass both of you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to that,¡± Kierra says, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip. Right, violence is never a threat to her.

    ¡°I hope so.¡± The succubus looks at me eagerly. Ah, if I grow stronger, I¡¯ll taste better, won¡¯t I? So, she¡¯s fine with it either way.

    ¡­I just can¡¯t win.

    -

    ¡°Whoa.¡±

    I can¡¯t hold in my awe as we approach the Myriad Zone. The air is different. It seems to shimmer, almost as if waves are going through it. The movement grows stronger as we ride on and the surroundings start to change. The gray and brown buildings on either side of the road appear to turn blue at the edges, the color spreading throughout the structures as we get closer. The gravel road turns milky white, the sky a strange mix of blue and green.

    And the people! They are all types of strange colors. I see men with purple skin and red hair, women with pink skin and silver hair, and many more incredible combinations. I know it¡¯s just my vision being compromised by whatever spell is covering the area but it¡¯s like entering a new world. The people seem to be quite energetic as well, calling out to each other as they pass and chatting in doorways, adding to the atmosphere.

    A finger pokes my cheek. I turn to see my wife looking at me with intrigued eyes. Except she looks different than usual. Her green skin is now a rosy pink and gold, her once silver hair a bright crimson. Her green-gold eyes are golden with flecks of a pale lilac.

    Coming here was worth it for this alone. ¡°You look good in everything, don¡¯t you?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°This zone is quite amusing. You should look into a mirror.¡±

    ¡°Hm. This failure of a spell has produced amusing results.¡±

    I look over to Geneva. Her smoky gray skin is now a light caramel, her dark hair and horn now silver. Those pink eyes I find so distinctive are now a blue brighter than a summer sky and just as mesmerizing. ¡°Dammit, this one too.¡±

    ¡°That sounded very bitter for a compliment, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Of course, you¡¯re still adorable Bell!¡± My orange-red imp that reminds me of flowing lava is now a bright yellow-green. Unnaturally bright, as in if I saw anything with these colors, I¡¯d immediately assume it was poisonous. Fitting for how dangerous she is. ¡°And we¡¯re all supposed to be different colors again when the sun goes down. Amazing.¡±

    ¡°And strange. This goes beyond a mere accident while casting.¡± Geneva scoffs. ¡°The one who cast this must have been drunk or ingesting some kind of drug.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a little harsh.¡±

    We have fun pointing out all the strange color combinations until we arrive at the Golden Feathers. The place may have a different coat of paint on it but it¡¯s the same as before. I have to admit, the employees are model servants. Makes me look at the scraggly four following behind me with consideration. Note to self. Get them uniforms. Maybe something unifying and form-fitting will have them looking better.

    Maxine soon gives us keys to the top suite and arranges separate rooms for my newly acquired help. They have been doing quite well, I suppose. None of them complained about sleeping outside, they were respectful to the Guiness knights in their own way despite their atrocious manners, and Earl has managed to keep his, erm, energetic sister from causing any troubles.

    All in all, I¡¯m quite satisfied with my decision to scoop them up and have high expectations. Eh, moderate expectations. They are former bandits. ¡°Aren¡¯t you all glad you decided to follow me? Bet this is much better than squatting between trees.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lady! I¡¯m very grateful for your mercy!¡± Earl shouts earnestly, bowing his head. Gajin follows suit, murmuring his own thanks. Nomad simply stares off into the distance and Ann bares her teeth at me. Haha. I should be embarrassed to call myself a noble hiring this group but whatever.

    ¡°Good. Right now, we are taking a small break which also applies to you. Enjoy this time because once we reach the Grand Hall, I¡¯ll be putting the four of you to work. You¡¯ll become servants worthy of serving the Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Wow, what an enthusiastic boy Earl is. Gajin is older but I think I¡¯ll put him in charge. Or would Geneva be in charge as my first contracted elemental?

    I hand them their keys and they go off to their rooms, some more excited than others. An employee escorts us to our suite. It¡¯s gorgeous of course, but after living in a Golden Feathers¡¯ suite for several months, I¡¯m used to this level of luxury. Not to mention the design is pretty much the same, minus the strange Myriad Zone finish.

    We are putting our things away when there is a knock on the door. Being the closest, I answer.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 12

    The employees here must go through rigorous training to always produce smiles like that. There¡¯s no way they can be that happy all the time. It¡¯s a little creepy but I smile back at the man. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Lady Tome. Everyone is so pleased that you are staying with us. Lady Guiness has prepared a small gift for you.¡±

    I sigh outwardly but, on the inside, I¡¯m still happy. Maybe Kierra is right and I do have a weakness for being spoiled.

    ¡°If you would kindly step into the hall for a moment.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    I step out of the room, looking around for this present. Thoughtlessly. I should have known better. Who makes a guest step outside to receive a gift?

    The same time I see there is nothing in the hallway is the same time he makes his move. If I were any other young noblewoman, this would be the end for me. Good thing I¡¯m a little more experienced than most.

    More than anything, feeling something looming over me, I react. Movements compromised by my surprise, I stumble to the side and bring up my arms to guard against the incoming blow from my wife, remembering a second later that my wife is still in our room.

    A second that costs me as the fake employee slams his shoulder into me, shoving me into the wall. I see him pull the knife from within his jacket sleeve and grab his wrist as he tries to push it under my ribs. Fire erupts on my hand as I hastily cast a simple spell. I wince, my poor control meaning I feel the heat more than I should. He doesn¡¯t scream, simply gritting his teeth as he pushes harder on the knife.

    ¡°You¡¯re crazy,¡± I bite out. I¡¯m strong because of my constant training with my wife but not stronger than a fit, grown man. He pulls another knife with his other hand and brings it down, aiming for my heart.

    I move closer to him, slightly ducking. The knife cuts me across the shoulder but I ignore the dull pain. Confident his body is hiding my other arm, I change the nails on my free hand to claws and cut him across the stomach.

    He finally makes a sound of pain, arm losing strength. I manage to throw away the arm with the weapon and put my weight behind a punch, snapping his head to the side with the blow. His legs shake before they give up on him, sending my assailant to the ground. He makes gestures to move but is stunned, not to mention the blood quickly staining his uniform.

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    Clapping draws my attention back to the room. Kierra is standing in the doorway, wearing a small smile. ¡°Congratulations, my love. You¡¯ve just defended against your first assassin. We must celebrate tonight!¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell rushes over, leaping over the dying man to latch onto my leg. From there, she crawls up to my shoulder. The next moment, the pain from the cut I received and the burn on my hand disappears. [Are you well?]

    ¡°Just fine. Make sure that guy lives so you can rip out his secrets.¡± I rub my cheek against the imp before setting her next to the man, chuckling at the scowl she wears while healing him. Stepping past them, I lean my head against Kierra¡¯s shoulder and let out a long breath. ¡°Someone just tried to kill me.¡±

    ¡°I saw.¡±

    ¡°But why? I like to think I¡¯m a friendly person.¡± The only people who have the right to be angry at me are the Grimoires and none of them could pull something like this off without my watchdog Fen sniffing them out.

    ¡°Someone is threatened by your recent accomplishments. It means you have been acknowledged by the powers that be, albeit the small ones. An assassin only wielding a dagger? Pitiful.¡±

    ¡°That was shocking.¡± Shocking, not scary. Besides the first moment when I¡¯d been caught off-guard after falling for such a simple ploy, I didn¡¯t feel threatened at all. Like she said, he had a knife. What is that supposed to do against any of us? ¡°While Bell is handling my attacker, Geneva.¡±

    She appears at my side, watching me with a smile. ¡°Yes, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Go find Maxine. I want to know exactly how an assassin got into her hotel and managed to get up to my room.¡± This guy may not be a threat but what about the next one? Will I always have to sweep the room for danger before sleeping? If so, what¡¯s the point being in such an expensive hotel?

    As a place that caters to nobles, Golden Feathers has impeccable security. One of the few scenarios where I can see this man getting by is if this is another ploy of the Guiness family to get close to us. Help us find our enemies to get into our good graces.

    Unlikely, but I will put nothing past scheming nobility. I hope not for her sake. I really was starting to take a liking to her. ¡°Make her sweat.¡±

    My succubus gives me a predatory grin, disappearing in a blink. The sound of struggles makes me look over my shoulder. Bell has a hold of my attacker¡¯s wrists and is dragging the much larger man into the room.

    ¡°What a day.¡± After finally getting off the road, this evening should have been a time for relaxation and unwinding. ¡°Did you mean it when you said we should celebrate?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Kierra wraps her arms around my shoulders and nuzzles my head. ¡°Assassination attempts are the mark of any successful leader. This is a glorious day, worth remembering. Maxine should be keen to make this embarrassment up to us. Perhaps she can dig up a drink that is not completely appalling.¡±

    ¡°Frickin¡¯ elves.¡± Her cheery attitude about the mess saps the somberness from my thoughts. Before I notice, I¡¯m smiling and I can¡¯t stop. ¡°Sooo, do you want to track down the mastermind, most likely a noble of at least some status to move in Guiness territory, before the semester starts or after?¡±

    ¡°Oh, most definitely after. As if they are more important than finding furniture for the house. I hear the artisans get incredibly busy when the students are about.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Someone trying to kill me is less important than getting furniture¡­

    I¡¯m just going to take that as respect for my abilities. Yeah.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 13

    ¡°I am so sorry!¡±

    Maxine stands in the middle of our suite in the straightest bow I have ever seen. As in, I could use her spine as a measuring stick. And she¡¯s holding it, despite how much discomfort she must be in, refusing to look up until I respond. Before I do, I look past her to Geneva leaning against the wall.

    [I can¡¯t say for sure without an interrogation, but her surface thoughts are innocent and she is panicking to the point her stomach hurts. If you don¡¯t say something soon, I think she¡¯s going to deposit her lunch onto the floor.]

    I admit, I¡¯m relieved she¡¯s not an enemy. ¡°Relax, Max. No one got hurt.¡±

    She eases up, shaking her head at my words. ¡°No, this is unforgivable. Rest assured that we will investigate this matter thoroughly. Anyone involved will receive due punishments.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± I don¡¯t need her promise. Once we settle in, I¡¯ll find the person who wants me dead on my own. ¡°Really, relax. According to my wife, we should be celebrating right now.¡±

    Disbelief covers her face as she looks at a smiling Kierra. ¡°In the Dusk Province, we call it ¡®ruler¡¯s shadow¡¯. The assassins that come in the night are the shadows, yes? We say, great leaders cast long shadows, meaning the more successful you are, the more shadows gather around you. My Lou¡¯s shadow has grown today.¡±

    ¡°I¡­see.¡± Her tone says she doesn¡¯t but that she¡¯s willing to roll with it if we aren¡¯t blaming her. ¡°¡­congratulations are in order then.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, thank you. Kii says it¡¯s important we celebrate this but we have yet to find a drink that doesn¡¯t taste like crap. We were hoping you can help us with that.¡±

    Maxine nods her head eagerly. ¡°I believe I know something that may suit your tastes. It will require a bit of travel. Not far. We could reach the bar after fifteen minutes of walking.¡±

    Fifteen minutes of walking for the chance to drink something palatable? ¡°You¡¯ve got a deal.¡±

    ¡°Then shall we meet after dinner?¡±

    ¡°The place doesn¡¯t serve food?¡±

    ¡°It does however¡­¡± Her lips twist as she searches for the right words. ¡°It caters to the more adventurous.¡±

    The hell does that mean? Oh, Kierra¡¯s curious. ¡°Why come to this city if not for an adventure? We¡¯ll eat there.¡± If it¡¯s really terrible, I¡¯ll just send Geneva out to pick up some food.

    I love being a summoner.

    ¡°As you wish. Shall we say fourteenth bell? I will personally escort you.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± She gives the room another bow before heading for the door. ¡°Max?¡± I call, stopping her as she opens the door. I smile when she looks over her shoulders. ¡°Leave the knights behind, huh? You¡¯re perfectly safe with us and having guys in armor around while we¡¯re trying to unwind doesn¡¯t really fit, you know?¡±

    There it is. For a brief moment, her eyes are hesitant. Wondering if this is us trying to get her alone so we can silence her without witnesses. Hilarious. As if I need the trouble that comes along with harming a Guiness princess.

    Her doubt only lasts a moment. Either she comes to the same realization or reminds herself that she doesn¡¯t have the ground to refuse my requests right now as she¡¯s trying to make me forget about the assassin. ¡°I look forward to it.¡±

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    I manage to hold in my amusement until after the door is closed. ¡°Hehe. You see her face? She¡¯s going to spend the whole day worrying about tonight. That should be punishment enough for her inattention.¡±

    ¡°And what of your punishment?¡±

    I freeze at my wife¡¯s whisper. Slowly, my head turns. Dammit, that¡¯s the teaching smile. Haven¡¯t seen that in a while as it was difficult for her to continue her bullying¡ªerm, training¡ªwhile on the road without disturbing others.

    She holds up a finger. ¡°Answering the door yourself when you have Bell.¡± A second finger. ¡°Not evaluating a random stranger at your door.¡± A third. ¡°Trusting said stranger without a moment¡¯s hesitation.¡± A fourth. ¡°Following said stranger.¡± All five fingers now. ¡°That terrible response to danger. Effective in the end but far too clumsy. I expect better.¡±

    Her eyes harden. ¡°We haven¡¯t had much time to see to your training lately. Perhaps we should start again.¡±

    ¡°Now?¡± I ask with a glimmer of hope.

    ¡°Now.¡±

    Behind her, Geneva is pushing aside the furniture to make room. She looks up for a moment, laughs, and goes back to her job.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [You can do it, Master Lou!]

    Thank you, Bell. I sigh as I get up, Kierra following suit and moving into a series of stretches. At least by the end of this, I might get a decent drink.

    -

    ¡°¡­are you alright?¡±

    I wave off Maxine, whose concern probably has less to do with my well-being and more to do with the fact that I¡¯m disrupting the hotel. After all, my wife¡¯s tender instruction leaves no marks with her magic to hide the evidence.

    14th bell, or the dinner bell, struck and we decided to wait in the lobby for Maxine. By waiting, I personally mean lounging on the reception desk. I just want to spread a little of my misery around is all. The customers and employees look very inconvenienced but knowing I¡¯m the personal guest of the owner¡¯s daughter, they can¡¯t say anything. Poor receptionists let out sighs of relief when they see Maxine.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I slip off the counter, stretching. My muscles aren¡¯t sore but somehow, I can still feel the ache. ¡°I¡¯m counting on you.¡±

    ¡°I hope not to disappoint.¡±

    We make a strange group leaving the hotel though I feel I fit in a bit more. I¡¯m wearing one of the more casual clothes from my new wardrobe, a simple vest over my shirt and dark pants, but the threads don¡¯t lose to the noblewoman next to me. I realize I¡¯ve been walking a little straighter the last few days. It¡¯s really the little things that matter.

    I saw it from my window but the people here are much more friendly than in the capital. Strangers give me casual waves and nods that I absently return. Jeez, I bet even the pickpockets would wish me a good day after taking my wallet.

    Maxine¡¯s words are correct. It doesn¡¯t take long at all before she stops us. It¡¯s a small building made of purple stone with a light brown roof and a sign over the door showing a silver spotted mushroom. The windows are dim but some light from inside shines out, an unnatural green that makes the place seem eerie.

    ¡°The owner here is the best brewer in the city, possibly the continent. If he would agree to upgrade his operation, he would have long been the exclusive supplier to the Golden Feathers. As it is, we can only serve his brews to the most premium guests here in Quest. If anyone can satisfy your tastes, it will be him.¡±

    ¡°Hoh. Let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got.¡± I bravely push ahead of the group and am about to open the door, but stop suddenly, today¡¯s lessons coming back. I swear I can feel Kierra¡¯s eyes digging a hole into my back.

    Murmuring to myself, I step back, waving for Geneva to go ahead of me. As my succubus opens the doors, we follow, Kierra giving me a brief caress along the back of my neck to show her approval. Yeah, yeah.

    For the best brewer in town, this place is surprisingly empty. Half of the large room is used for seating, round tables that can hold four in the middle and longer rectangular tables along the sides. At the back of the room is a long bar with ten stools. What I assume is a young barmaid sits on one, a lone customer another. A man wearing an apron stands with his back to us, looking over the glass bottles on the half a dozen shelves behind the bar.

    The barmaid looks up as the door opens. Her eyes flick over us briefly before she turns away in disinterest. Wow. Never got that reaction before. I mean, I¡¯m used to being ignored, a thrall¡¯s existence is rare but not unheard of, and Bell could be dismissed as a pet from the way she¡¯s cuddled up to me, but Kierra¡¯s an elf. No one just ignores that.

    ¡°Howie,¡± Maxine calls as we reach the bar. ¡°I brought you some customers.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 14

    The man turns around and¡­ah. That explains the lack of reaction. A pair of very sharp ears stick out of his shaggy dark hair. So, he¡¯s an elf. Or maybe not? His ears kind of droop at the end and I¡¯ve never seen another elf like that. That pale skin with a green undertone is very suggestive though.

    For Howie¡¯s part, he isn¡¯t thrilled to see us. Especially Kierra. He looks scared of her, which I wouldn¡¯t be surprised by if we hadn¡¯t just met.

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    His exclamation is cut off as Kierra reaches over the bar, wrapping her hand in his shirt and dragging him forward.

    ¡°Hey!?¡± The barmaid jumps to her feet, eyes blazing. Oh ho, she¡¯s a caster. One confident enough to start casting in this kind of scenario. Security disguised as the help?

    Not that it matters. Geneva steps in front of her, all smiles. She won¡¯t make the first move, since I¡¯ve ordered her not to start unnecessary trouble or to attack people without provocation, but if that girl lets out even a spark of a spell, she won¡¯t know when she dies.

    ¡°Miss Kierra,¡± Maxine says quickly, trying to hide the panic in her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know how he has offended you but¡ª¡±

    ¡°Relax, Max. I¡¯m not angry at him. You can calm down as well. I¡¯m from the Violet Dusk province.¡±

    Howie, who had been struggling in her grip, stops trying to pry off her hand but scowls. ¡°Damn battle junkie animals!¡± Hey, I¡¯m not the only one who thinks she¡¯s nuts. But you don¡¯t get to say that. Lucky man. I still want that drink. If it¡¯s not good enough to meet my expectations, he¡¯s going to pay for that comment. ¡°I¡¯ve got no problem with you so let me go!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. We don¡¯t have any problems. I¡¯ll let you go in a moment.¡± She raises her other hand and places her fingertips on Howie¡¯s cheek. They start to glow with her magic, though the usual green is replaced by a sunny yellow.

    ¡°Let me go now!¡±

    ¡°I would, but your kind is known for scurrying off at the slightest opportunity. And no one sits still while I look at them for some reason.¡± After a few moments, the glow on her fingers dissipates and she releases him. Howie stumbles, just barely keeping himself from hitting his shelves. ¡°Underhill. How rare to see one of you out and about.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡± he bit out, straightening his wrinkle-free apron. Seeing her employer unharmed, the barmaid relaxes. Interestingly, the lone customer at the end of the bar doesn¡¯t even flinch at the commotion, the large hood of a cloak obscuring their face as they lean over a large clay mug.

    Now should be a good time to ask questions, right? Right. ¡°Kii.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. Remember when I told you that the elves of the Twilight Province seek strength through the mixture of bloodlines? Clan Underhill is one of such. They focus on interbreeding with goblinoids.¡±

    An elf and a goblin? I give the barkeep a searching look. Just, ugh. Having a hard time imagining that. And isn¡¯t he too tall? Goblins are basically little green children with the wrinkly features of old men. Saints bless him, it¡¯s a good thing he took more after his elven parent¡­

    ¡°You just thought something rude didn¡¯t you, little brat.¡±

    ¡°Little brat? You¡¯ve got an inch on me at best.¡± Looks like he got his manners from the goblin side. Really, is this how you treat paying customers? I should throw Bell at him. From the way the little imp is snarling, she¡¯d make him eat those words.

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    ¡°Hurry up and serve us something to drink,¡± I say, taking a seat. ¡°That is why we came here, if people have forgotten.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. I am looking forward to it. The Twilight Province is known for their alchemists and poison masters. This should be quite interesting.¡±

    Eh? Poison?

    It¡¯s okay, me. There are three powerful physical affinity users around with a vested interest in keeping me alive. And who knows if poison will affect me.

    ¡°No way. I¡¯m not serving you. Get out!¡±

    ¡°Howie¡ª¡± Maxine starts in a soft tone, ready to bargain, but I cut her off but slamming my fist down on the bar.

    That was a bit louder than I thought it would be. All eyes are on me now as I stare down the barkeep. ¡°Listen to me, droopy ears. I understand we might have made you a little uncomfortable but friends forgive and forget a few minor transgressions.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not friends!¡± he scoffs.

    ¡°Really? We¡¯re not? That¡¯d be very bad for you. Because I remember you insulting me and my wife. Now, I can handle a few jabs between friends but if some whiny, weasel of man who isn¡¯t my friend said something like that about two people I care about, he¡¯d probably get his jaw broken.¡±

    He looks nervous. He should be. The only thing sparing him is the quality of the drink he serves us. If it¡¯s subpar, I¡¯ll be annoyed but that¡¯s nothing compared to what I¡¯ll do if he outright doesn¡¯t serve us. I was looking forward to this all day and I won¡¯t be denied because the little man had his feelings hurt.

    What? I¡¯m acting like an over-privileged noble?

    Damn right! I am an over-privileged noble now, not one in name only, so I¡¯m going to throw my weight around.

    ¡°Tch.¡± Howie seems to understand his position and doesn¡¯t look at all happy about it. ¡°Louise! Go get some crunchy bread from the back for the guests.¡±

    The barmaid disappeared with a roll of her eyes, the glow in them disappearing as she lets go of her mana. Reaching beneath the bar, Howie pulls out a metal tray full of mugs, placing it to the side. ¡°What¡¯ll you be having?¡±

    ¡°Max, you can recommend something, right?¡±

    ¡°Herbernacle,¡± the merchant responds immediately.

    ¡°I keep telling you to quit calling it that,¡± Howie grumps as he sets four mugs out. I slap the table gently and point to Bell. The barkeeper reluctantly puts a mug in front of her, yanking his hand back as her tail swipes at him. ¡°It¡¯s called Shroom Sludge.¡±

    ¡°Shroom¡­Sludge?¡±

    I give Maxine a look and she holds up her hands. ¡°He has strange naming sense but his skills are top-notch, I guarantee it.¡±

    ¡°My naming sense isn¡¯t weird, it¡¯s accurate.¡± Howie grabs a large glass container from the shelves. An earthy scent mixed with something spicy tickles my nose as he pours bright pink liquid into each of our cups. ¡°The stuff is made from toxic mushrooms from the Twilight Province.¡±

    ¡°The poison is neutralized in the brewing process. The Guiness Company markets it as Herbernacle, the main ingredient. It is completely safe.¡±

    ¡°If you can take your poison.¡±

    The smile he shows us is mocking. You think a little poison is enough to scare us off?

    Almost as if we plan it, my group all raise their mugs and chug down the drink. Oh, yeah. It doesn¡¯t have the same impact as the elven brew. The taste is pleasantly bitter and leaves my tongue a little numb, but it feels like liquid fire is poured into my gut, flushing my body from head to toe.

    ¡°Whew!¡± I slam the mug down, feeling refreshed. ¡°Not bad. Not bad at all!¡±

    ¡°¡­tolerable, though a little on the weak side.¡± Kierra makes sure to slam her mug down with the same intensity as me, making Howie wince. ¡°What else is on those shelves?¡±

    The succubi are more graceful putting down their cups but they also look expectant.

    Howie sighs, shaking his head. ¡°All of you Dusk elves are monsters.¡± He looks over at me. ¡°And I expected as much from mind stealers but who are you? The hotel waters that stuff down but you drank it straight.¡±

    Ha! Don¡¯t underestimate me. ¡°I¡¯m married to her,¡± I say point a thumb at Kierra, ¡°and the boss of those two. Take more than a few mushrooms to take me out.¡±

    Coughing at the end of the bar ruins the moment. I look down at Maxine, face flush and holding a hand over her mouth. ¡°Perhaps some water¡­¡±

    With a snort, Howie grabs a bottle from the lowest shelf and mixes its contents into Maxine¡¯s cup. ¡°As for the rest of you monsters¡­¡± With a quick leap, he grabs a handle on the ceiling I didn¡¯t notice until this moment and grabs a bottle from the top shelf, landing smoothly afterwards. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure you all pass out.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°Challenge accepted.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 15

    He gave it his best, he really did. If I had stayed human, I wouldn¡¯t have made it past the second mug. However, quickly turning my insides to that of an elemental reset my tolerance after every mug, every sip if I wanted. He didn¡¯t have a chance from the start. Howie doesn¡¯t seem too upset about it. If anything, he seems quite pleased.

    Once we got past the fifth round, he got into it, watching intently as he put stronger drinks in front of us. While we drank, he complained about people avoiding his bar because he used toxic ingredients and they couldn¡¯t appreciate his art. I completely agree. The man¡¯s a genius, even if I worry for the safety of anyone drinking here without quick access to a healer.

    Any tension between him and my group is gone as we thoroughly enjoy his work. It takes four cups of Devil¡¯s Brine, one of his strongest, non-lethal liquors, but Kierra¡¯s finally starting to feel the effects, a heavy flush covering her face. She¡¯s a loud drunk, which surprises no one. At least she isn¡¯t breaking things for the hell of it, something I really worried about.

    Geneva and Bell haven¡¯t been drinking as consistently so they¡¯re fine. Rather, they have been sharing the crunchy bread served in large baskets along with the drinks, sticks of warm bread that have a golden, crunchy outer layer and a soft center. There were two kinds. One sprinkled with salt, the other glazed with some kind of honey mixture. They enjoy them so much I ask for a few baskets to go, which sit on the bar.

    One person does lose to Howie¡¯s drinks. That is the crying merchant seated on my other side, having traded places with Geneva earlier in the evening.

    ¡°Hey, are you listening Lou?¡± she asks, leaning heavily against my shoulder. Her face is flushed, the mug in her hand hanging in weak fingers, threatening to fall any moment. Her eyes are glassy and wet.

    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± I¡¯ve been indulging her. After all, this is kind of my fault. I¡¯m the one who egged her on, knowing she could hardly refuse as she still felt the need to make up for the assassin earlier. How was I supposed to know she¡¯d be such a weakling? Howie never switched her off the Herbernacle and she only had three mugs. That were watered down. Sad.

    I snatch the mug out of her hands as it tips precariously, setting it on the bar. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±

    ¡°You got to believe me. I don¡¯t know how tha, *hic*, man got into the hotel. The Golden Feathers has the best security. He couldn¡¯t have snuck in.¡±

    ¡°So, there¡¯s a traitor among your staff.¡±

    ¡°Th,*hic*, that!¡± She points at me but the finger is too close, almost jabbing me in the eye. I grab it and lower her hand. ¡°That¡¯s it. There¡¯s a spy in the staff. And now I have to find them but no one really respects me, only humoring me because of my father.¡± She hangs her head like a kicked puppy. ¡°I might not be able to find them. Then Father will send one of my siblings.¡±

    ¡°Guessing that¡¯s bad?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s terrible! They¡¯ll try to take over negotiations with you. Father originally wanted one of my older sisters to interact with you and Miss Kierra but took a chance because of our age¡­¡± Words pour out of her, the speed combined with her compromised motor skills making her impossible to understand.

    I reach out, clapping a hand over her mouth. ¡°Howie, water over here.¡± The barkeep looks up from his conversation with my wife, taking in Maxine¡¯s condition. With a scoff, he fills a cup with water and slides it to me. I hand it to the merchant, helping her drink it. Why bother? Well, she took my little prank with good humor. I¡¯d feel bad leaving her be. Also, she¡¯s saying some rather important things. ¡°What were you trying to say?¡± I ask once she sets the mug down.

    ¡°¡­what was I saying?¡±

    I sigh. ¡°Your older sister¡ª¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Why do you care about my older sister!?¡± she practically shrieks. ¡°She¡¯s not as good as everyone thinks. That stupid smile of hers is fake. You can¡¯t do business with her, Lou!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything about doing business with her. You¡¯re the one who mentioned her.¡±

    ¡°¡­I did?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You were the one telling me that your father wanted to replace you¡ª¡±

    ¡°That stupid old man of mine!¡± she bursts out, teeth grit in anger. ¡°One little mistake! It¡¯s not, *hic*, fair. Even the cleanest hotel lets a rat in once in a while but he¡¯s going to use this assassin thing to get rid of me!¡±

    ¡°Assassin?¡± Howie askes, raising his head but I wave for him to be quiet so he doesn¡¯t interrupt.

    ¡°She¡¯s not even a good merchant. Only products she knows are her textiles, the human dovebird. Don¡¯t know why she hoards our company¡¯s best spools, since she barely wears clothes. Let me tell *hic* you, Lou. Everyone says that the Guiness family appreciates gold the most, but that¡¯s not it. It¡¯s, *hic*, beauty. Father wants to be surrounded by beautiful things and only beautiful things. That just happens to take wealth.¡±

    Maxine slams back the contents of her mug. She does realize that¡¯s water, right? ¡°I mean, just look at him! The man is nearly a century old and he has better skin than me! Don¡¯t let that pretty face fool you, he¡¯s a complete asshole. Did you know that he has disowned several children because they were too ugly?¡±

    ¡°No way,¡± I say with a laugh, leaning forward. This is hilarious.

    She nods enthusiastically. ¡°I¡¯m not *hic* joking. One time, during one of the rare moments Father is home to eat with us, my brother tried to impress him with some new fashion from the capital. Father thought it was ugly. He banished my brother from the house the rest of the night and took away all the textile shops under his control, handing them to my sister. I swear, she has her position in the company because she has his same extreme aesthetic sense. And she might as well be a succubus for all the clients she¡¯s slept with.¡±

    ¡°Whoa.¡± Reflexively, I look around the bar but it¡¯s still as empty as it was when we came in. ¡°You sure you should be saying that?¡± You don¡¯t want to mess with a noble¡¯s reputation. Might as well kill them as they¡¯ll never forgive you.

    One of the worst things to say about a noblewoman is that she ¡®gets around¡¯ and Maxine might as well have called her sister a whore out loud for anyone to hear. People die for less, much less.

    ¡°*Hic*, it¡¯s nothing important. The whole capital knows how loose she is.¡± Ooh, and there¡¯s the second blow.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so quick to claim that as an insult.¡± From the corner of my eye, I see Geneva come to stand between us. She flashes me a wide grin, her tail whipping in amusement. ¡°I heard an amusing conversation. This sister of yours sounds quite competent.¡±

    Maxine eyes her and scoffs. Huh, seems the drink makes her both whiny and brave. ¡°You¡¯d say that. You¡¯re just like her! Using your body to seal the deal. No, you¡¯re better because you don¡¯t pretend to be a merchant. She makes a mockery of the trade.¡±

    ¡°Really? I think she is quite good at what she does. You have to cater to your business partner and promise them all kinds of profits to secure a deal. From the sounds of it, she just needs one night to charm them. If you were both working for me, I¡¯d promote her more as well. After all, such a strategy is incredibly effective. Take Lou for example.¡±

    Hey, hold on. Don¡¯t involve me in this! It¡¯s too late for me to complain though as my elemental latches onto one of my arms. ¡°You¡¯ve tried bribing her with everything from gems to your very soul to secure her cooperation when she cares very little for material things. An approach like your sister¡¯s would have worked far better.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Look at her wife. Look at her contracted elemental. A merchant should be able to read people, to understand their desires. In that regard, your sister seems to have you outmatched.¡±

    ¡°You, you¡­¡± Maxine seems quite angry but her addled mind can¡¯t make a good comeback. She turns to me and her anger fades away for a more calculating look. Whoa now, don¡¯t get any ideas here.

    I wave for Howie to refill her water, quickly stuffing it into her hands. ¡°Drink this and don¡¯t do anything you¡¯ll regret when you¡¯re sober.¡±

    She takes the mug, murmuring over the edge. I don¡¯t like the look in her eyes at all. Stupid Geneva. Why did you have to say something like that? I don¡¯t need a Guiness princess making moves on me. There are too many ways that can go wrong.

    I am not exaggerating when I call her princess. Her father may not wear a crown, but they have enough influence and capital to move the country. Sounds like a king to me. That¡¯s one of Marquis Guiness¡¯ titles amongst the commoners even, the ¡®king of gold¡¯. And she knows how much I hate dealing with royalty. Of any kind.

    Thankfully, the door opens, providing a welcome distraction. Four men wearing armor step through, the one in the lead wearing a tight frown. Oh, that¡¯s not just any kind of armor either. Those are artifacts. Very pricey and, for something of that quality, very expensive. Almost exclusively sold to successful manabeast hunters and nobles. Quite the customers have walked in.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 16

    ¡°You again!¡± Howie doesn¡¯t seem to care one lick about potential profit as he scowls at the men. ¡°How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of here, Fredrick?¡±

    The men walk forward. ¡°Relax, you damn hobgoblin,¡± the one in the lead says. Howie is glaring daggers at him so this must be Fredrick. ¡°I¡¯m hoping you¡¯ve reconsidered my guild¡¯s offer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather burn a branch of the Sacred Tree.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good deal! With your talent in alchemy, you can make a difference out there, help make our way past the mountains. This dump is a waste of your ability.¡±

    ¡°My ability is making good drinks.¡±

    ¡°Your stupid drinks are poisonous! Why do you think no one shows up anymore? I honestly have no idea how you stay in business.¡± Fredrick sighs. ¡°Look, I talked to the leader. He¡¯s prepared to offer you your own space to continue with your brewing. With the money the guild will pay, you can even do more of the research you love. That¡¯s more than fair.¡±

    ¡°More than fair? Ha! You make it sound like me working for you is set in stone. Let me make myself clear. I don¡¯t need or want to work for you apes. Never will. Now, quit bothering me and get out of my bar!¡±

    Fredrick¡¯s expression turns ugly. ¡°Listen to me, goblin bastard¡ª¡±

    ¡°Excuse me.¡±

    He pauses, eyes widening as he turns and sees Kierra. Her eyes are narrowed playfully as she waves her mug at him. ¡°Would you mind talking business later? Your tension is ruining the mood and distracting the man from pouring.¡±

    He looks her up and down, as people always do, along with the people behind him. A small smile curves his lips. ¡°You family of Howie here? Looks like you got all the good genes.¡±

    ¡°Family? In a way. We are all children of the Sacred Tree. By blood, no. Howie, fill me up.¡±

    ¡°Put it on my tab.¡± Fredrick moves closer to her, inadvertently bumping into me. Bastard doesn¡¯t even excuse himself while he hits on someone else¡¯s wife. This is a pretty good angle for an ambush. His armor doesn¡¯t cover his neck. One quick transformation and three-inch claws are tearing into him before he knows what¡¯s going on.

    Let¡¯s see how smooth you are when I rip out your tongue.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you around here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve just arrived in the city.¡±

    ¡°Looking for work? I¡¯m a squad leader in the Shadow Wolf guild. This is my team.¡± He waved to the men behind him who straighten their shoulders, trying to look good so their leader looks better. ¡°We¡¯re the best hunters in town with contracts with the city lord himself. Always looking for more talent.¡±

    ¡°Oh? A generous offer but I already have work. In the Grand Hall.¡±

    Poor Fredrick stiffens. That¡¯s right. The only ones allowed into the Grand Hall are the elites. Far above a measly hunter. She¡¯s so far out of your league, you can¡¯t even see how stupid you look right now.

    A fact proven by how he shrugs off his shock and continues. ¡°The Grand Hall, huh? I heard the place is pretty amazing. What do you say we play tour guide for each other? I¡¯ll show you this city in a whole new light.¡±

    Oh, saints preserve me, was that supposed to be a play off the Myriad Zone¡¯s colors? Maybe the drinks have affected me a bit because I have the sudden urge to hurl. Wait, no. It¡¯s this nauseating asshole. Forget this. I was targeted by an assassin today. I don¡¯t need to put up with anymore crap. ¡°Oi, get off me. It¡¯s rude.¡±

    I shove him back by the shoulder as I speak. Fredrick immediately turns to me, scowling. I return the expression. ¡°What? Are you mad I don¡¯t want you feeling me up? Damn pervert.¡±

    ¡°Who would want to touch you?¡± He pointedly looks at my admittedly lacking chest. ¡°I don¡¯t know what backwater farming village you¡¯ve come from but you should watch your manners in this city. Most people here can take your head off with a snap of their fingers.¡±

    ¡°Good thing none of those scary people are here now. Take your own advice. I¡¯ve pulled weeds more terrifying than you.¡±

    Fredrick¡¯s mouth twitches. ¡°You¡¯re very lucky I¡¯m a gentleman and have too much honor to hit a defenseless woman.¡±

    Defenseless? Do I look defenseless? ¡°You could try.¡±

    He snorts. ¡°Don¡¯t act tough. You don¡¯t have a weapon on you, at least not one I have to be afraid of.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t need one. I¡¯m a caster.¡±

    ¡°Just said not to bluff. No caster looks as stupid as you.¡±

    This bastard. I slip off my stool, staring him down. The effect is ruined by the fact that I have to look up at him but I don¡¯t look away. ¡°To be clear, I¡¯m a summoner. One good enough to also to be invited to the Grand Hall. Come on. Give me a reason to break you in half because I really, really want to.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Summoner? What, is that mug your elemental? Hah? Is it going to drown me in ale? Might actually be useful for once!¡±

    He laughs at his own joke. Here we have someone who has never met a capable summoner and has no idea on how powerful our contracted elementals can be. Goodie. ¡°Geo.¡±

    My succubus comes to stand next to me, smiling softly at the men and looking anything but threatening. Fredrick looks ready to lay into me again but is stopped by one of his men. ¡°Leader, this isn¡¯t good. I think that¡¯s one of those devils from the Grimoire family.¡±

    Fredrick jumps, looking back and forth between me and Geneva. ¡°You¡¯re a high noble?¡± His doubt is obvious.

    ¡°If you¡¯re asking if I¡¯m a Grimoire, no. If you¡¯re asking if I¡¯m someone far above you, then that¡¯s a definite yes.¡± I point over my shoulder at Kierra. ¡°That lovely lady you were practically trying to dry hump is my wife. Most nobles would have already castrated you by now but I¡¯m such a good person, I¡¯m going to give you the chance to convince me why I shouldn¡¯t have my pet turn you into a drooling idiot.¡±

    He looks ready to take on the challenge but now another one of his men grabs onto him, urging him backwards. ¡°We¡¯re very sorry for him, my lady,¡± one says with a hint of panic in his voice. ¡°This one loses himself a little around beautiful women. We mean no disrespect and should get on our way.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say you could go.¡±

    ¡°Oh, screw you and your devil!¡± Fredrick shouts, breaking free from the other men. ¡°You wimps forget who we are? We¡¯re Shadow Wolves. If you are going to let a little girl intimidate you, you can stay here. Maybe Howie can use a few more barmaids.¡±

    This guy has some serious daring. Calling me a little girl right to my face. Maybe I can handle that but not in front of people whose opinions I care about.

    This crap has been going on since we¡¯ve made it back to this kingdom, people looking down their noses at me. Wondering what I am doing with beings like Kierra and Geneva. And till now, I haven¡¯t done much to stop them. No wonder they don¡¯t respect me.

    What would Kierra do? If someone manages to anger her, she¡¯s ending them. Damn the consequences. She¡¯s confident in her ability to defend herself and relishes the thought of an actual challenge.

    Geneva? She¡¯d care even less. This isn¡¯t even her home plane. Why would she care about mercy, nobility, or laws?

    What about me? I¡¯ve got the same power they do because they are my power. If Kierra disagreed, she would have already intervened. She¡¯s ready to let me decide, whether I spend the night I¡¯m supposed to be having fun keeping quiet while I sip my drink or kill this guy.

    ¡­what would Cosmo do?

    Pfft. Easy answer.

    Geneva, break his leg. Left, no, right one.

    [As you wish.]

    I don¡¯t see her tail whip out. One moment, Fredrick is posturing. The next, a sharp crack is heard for a moment but the sound is drowned out by his scream of pain. He tips to the side but one of his men catches him.

    Hands go to weapons and eyes turn bright as they prepare to cast. ¡°Good. You all want to die today. I¡¯ve always wanted some artifact armor. Are your weapons artifacts too? I could start up a collection.¡±

    ¡°You saints¡¯ damned bitch!¡±

    ¡°Enough.¡± The one who warned Fredrick slaps the others until they stop showing aggression. ¡°We¡¯re very sorry, my lady¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tome.¡± I glare at him. ¡°Lourianne Tome. How am I supposed to trust an apology when you don¡¯t even know who you¡¯re addressing? Look me in the eye.¡±

    The hunter meets my stare with a steady gaze of his own. ¡°Lady Tome, I sincerely apologize for our horrible conduct this evening. Please forgive us.¡±

    ¡°You never gave me a reason to do so. Forgiveness is so cheap these days.¡±

    He stares at me for a moment. Then he grabs the ornate sword on Fredrick¡¯s waist. His leader tries to fight him but he whispers something in the man¡¯s ear for several moments and his protests stop. The sword is held out to me while the hunter bows his head. ¡°For your collection.¡±

    ¡°Wow.¡± I raise a foot but pause. Stepping forward would put me in this man¡¯s range. This could be a trap. Don¡¯t underestimate me. I may be a little slow when it comes to defending myself but I always learn. Bell, grab it.

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell hops down from the bar and hurries over to him. Her tail slaps his leg. After a brief moment of confusion, the hunter hands her the sword and she brings it back to me, proudly holding it over her head. I scoop her up, taking it in one hand as she climbs onto my shoulder.

    ¡°A gift. Oh, you didn¡¯t have to do that.¡± The look I share with the hunter and Fredrick¡¯s glare says everyone knows that¡¯s not the case. ¡°A good show of your sincerity. Very well, Shadow Wolves. You are forgiven. Let¡¯s not dwell on it any longer. Would you like to share a drink? The tab is currently being covered by Maxine Guiness.¡±

    Fredrick goes pale, eyes going to the bar where Max is quietly watching our exchange. He then looks to Howie, who nods discretely. Oh, I can almost feel your despair. Just realized the kind of person you picked a fight with, huh?

    ¡°Thank you for the kind offer, Lady Tome, but it¡¯s time we really must be going. Our guild requires much of us. By your leave?¡±

    ¡°Go on, then.¡± I watch the hunters until they disappear. I let out a long breath as the door closes behind them. ¡°I¡¯ll admit it. That felt really good.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Fools. It would have been better if you had killed them.]

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re really bloodthirsty, you know. Besides, this is better. Imagining him lamenting his own stupidity every day, losing such expensive equipment because he underestimated me. The anger slowly building up until he finally explodes, whether to me or someone else. Realizing no matter how angry he is, there¡¯s nothing he can do. Yeah, this is much better. And quieter.¡±

    I retake my stool, poking my wife in the side. ¡°You could chase some of these dogs away, you know.¡±

    ¡°Of course not.¡± She downs the rest of her mug and gives me a blinding smile. ¡°That¡¯s another one of your roles, dedia. Just as it is for me to chase away any undeserving suitors, hmm.¡± Her gaze briefly goes over my head to look at Maxine. Lucky girl is currently taking a large gulp of her water, otherwise she might have had a heart attack if she knew my wife is...considering her.

    And you were waiting for me, you frickin¡¯ elf savage!

    ¡­this time, I¡¯ll admit I¡¯m the one in the wrong. I should have realized, no, I did realize what kind of path these people are pushing me down. Teach me to drag my feet. ¡°Here you go, my love. Hope you like it.¡±

    ¡°Aw, you¡¯re so sweet to me.¡± Kierra takes the blade, pulling it from the sheath to examine the edge and spell engraved on it. ¡°Very good.¡±

    ¡°Here, Lou.¡± Howie places a new mug in front of me. He¡¯s all smiles now, a sharp contrast to the beginning of our night. ¡°For driving those dogs out, something special. I call it Journey to the Abyss, because one sip can knock anyone out.¡±

    Come on, is this even a drink at that point? Might as well call it the poison that it is. Nevertheless, I lift the mug, changing everything from my throat below to the insides of an elemental. ¡°Thanks, Howie. To the Grand Hall! Let our time there be full of learning and wonder.¡±

    The others join me in my unimpressive but enthusiastic toast and we down our drinks.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 17

    Our small vacation in Quest has come to an end. The new semester starts in a little over two weeks and Kierra is starting to get anxious about preparing our house. If I¡¯m honest, I¡¯m also a little sick of the Myriad Zone. I think the constantly shifting colors are giving me headaches. Something uncomfortable about opening the window to a different sight every morning,

    The luggage is quickly placed back on the carriage and we move to the heart of the Myriad Zone. I¡¯m expecting a suitably impressive way to reach the city in the sky, but no, there are simply more platforms. There is no need for several lines as by the city¡¯s wall. There are only two; one slightly longer for normal visitors, the other for priority travelers. Both are relatively short.

    At first, I think it¡¯s because there aren¡¯t as many people coming and going to the Grand Hall. That is proven wrong as a group dressed in silver robes tumble from the sky. My heart thumps loudly in my chest when I see them flipping through the air, ready to call out, but Geneva grabs my hand. ¡°They¡¯re fine,¡± she tells me with a smile.

    They¡¯re about to be smashed to pieces! Yet, with her bracing me I calm down enough to see that the people are slowing down. My eyes are wide open with amazement as they stop twirling through the air and gracefully land on the ground as a group, stirring up a strong breeze.

    ¡°They were flying. Haha.¡± Air affinity casters and good ones. No wonder the lines are small here. Most of the people coming and going from the premiere magic research center can probably travel under their own power.

    Geneva lets me go. ¡°Something you will also be able to do.¡±

    I nod without taking my eyes off them. They look young, no more than five years older than me. These people would be considered my peers. Saints preserve me, I can¡¯t help imagining how I would have measured up before Cosmo¡¯s mercy. I¡¯d be a laughingstock. ¡°Were you around when people still worshipped the old gods?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°You say that as if they have stopped.¡±

    ¡°Great. I need you to help me design a nice shrine and maybe a few custom rites.¡± I promised him a shrine and a shrine I shall give.

    ¡°I get to play high priestess again. How fun.¡±

    Again? Ah, probably better not to ask.

    Apparently, the Guiness family influence doesn¡¯t extend to the Grand Hall. We have to wait our turn like everyone else but luckily, there is only one carriage ahead of us by time we line up. Their platform ascends and a group of armed guards approach. Wow, they¡¯re all dressed in artifact armor as well. It¡¯s not surprising but another reminder of the prestige of the place we¡¯re headed.

    I step out as an older man with a tired expression reaches us, another team moving past to handle Maxine¡¯s convoy. He eyes me but it¡¯s not the arrogant expression I¡¯m expecting. It¡¯s calm and maybe a little bored, a professional who just wants to do his job.

    ¡°Your pass, if you would.¡±

    ¡°Here you are.¡± I hand over the ornate card I received back in Summer Spire, a ticket representing my acceptance into the Grand Hall. The man takes it. In his hands, it starts to glow before words float above it. Should have guessed there was magic on it.

    ¡°Ah. So, you¡¯re the one.¡± The looks he¡¯s giving me is now tinged with curiosity and maybe a little apprehension. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that. It¡¯s just that the bosses told me to keep an eye out for you, Lady Tome.¡±

    Stolen story; please report.

    He whistles sharply. With a soft chirp, a tiny bird drops down onto his shoulder, tilting its head. ¡°Aurelius,¡± he tells the creature. With another cry, it ascends rapidly, quickly disappearing. ¡°One of the teachers asked to be informed of your arrival and should be meeting you at the top.¡± He hands me the card back. ¡°Keep a tight hold of this as it¡¯s your key into the city.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Enjoy the Grand Hall.¡±

    ¡°Seems they¡¯re excited to meet you,¡± I say as I climb back into the carriage. I just had a terrible thought. I¡¯m going to watch a whole new group of men drool over my wife and these aren¡¯t going to be as easy to scare off. Ugh.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to this. It¡¯s been quite a while since I¡¯ve had a proper challenge. Perhaps there will be something for me to learn.¡± She looks excited. This is good. I¡¯ve been worried that she doesn¡¯t have anything for herself. I love having her beside me but I don¡¯t want her to become bored.

    Halfway up, the air starts to shimmer, the strange colors bleeding away. I give a short cheer as I see a familiar blue sky. Never thought I¡¯d miss it so much but it¡¯s unsettling when I can¡¯t depend on something that¡¯s been a simple fact of life for years.

    It takes several minutes before our platform rises above the edge of the land the Grand Hall sits on. I can¡¯t help the loud gasp that slips out as I get my first look.

    In Summer Spire, only the Noble Ring is truly remarkable, using stone over wood in its splendid architecture, well designed roads, and paint, something never seen in towns and villages. The Grand Hall puts the extravagant Noble Ring to shame.

    Our rectangular platform fits itself into place that seems to be carved out for it, putting us in the middle of a wide courtyard made of gleaming white stone. On the far end are a group of the tallest buildings I¡¯ve ever seen, each one the height of a noble¡¯s mansion. All of them have glass windows, a luxury. One has an entire wall made of them, displaying what appears to be a shop that several people are walking in and out of. The largest of them has to be at least six stories high. Floating in front of it is a large blue circle, displaying ¡®Welcome to the Grand Hall¡¯ in bold letters on top of the symbol for magic. In the middle of the courtyard is a statue of a faceless caster wearing long robes, nine balls of light surrounding him representing the nine affinities.

    The wealth displayed in this single area is already astounding and that¡¯s without taking in the people, the most outlandish part. Some of them are quite well-dressed but all of the people I can see are wearing at least one artifact. Then there¡¯s the flying mounts.

    As soon as I spot one, I can¡¯t take my eyes off them. Horses with wings. Lizards with wings. Lizards with fire on the bottom of their feet. A cloud in the shape of a bird. What is this? My heart is about to burst from excitement. They can tame manabeasts!? This is like a bard¡¯s song come to life!

    I wordlessly reach out for Kierra, pointing out the window. My request doesn¡¯t need to be heard to be understood. First thing I have to do is get one of those. I really like that cloud thing. I wonder how soft it would be to lie on one of them. And what does a cloud eat?

    Kierra chuckles as she takes my hand. ¡°We shall look into it after we¡¯ve seen the house. It would be a pity to obtain such a creature and have to keep it in some stable.¡±

    ¡°It should be fine. Marquis Guiness promised a generous residence.¡± And when someone as rich as he is declares something as ¡®generous¡¯, I think it¡¯s fine to get my hopes up. ¡°But you¡¯re right, it¡¯ll take some time to learn about their upkeep. Horses can be a hassle if you want care for them properly. Can¡¯t imagine how much more complicated it¡¯ll have to be caring for a manabeast.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to bother with something from here.¡± I turn to Geneva who smiles. ¡°If you desire, I could tame any creature into a mount. Or shift into one myself if you¡¯d prefer, though rapid changes would get tiring.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [I am far better than those dumb reptiles.]

    Oh, yeah. Sometimes, I forget how impressive my elementals are. ¡°That¡¯s a good point but I¡¯d rather not tie you up like that. As you are now, you can move with me easily. Besides, you¡¯re my best protection. I don¡¯t want to do anything that compromises your strength.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°I do believe our escort has arrived.¡±

    Our carriage has pulled forward into a small area that is reserved for waiting. This area doesn¡¯t have much traffic so it is easy to spot the dot in the sky heading towards us. We all step out and prepare to meet our escort.

    It doesn¡¯t take long before the dark spot resolves into a man wearing a silver robe. He gently glides toward us before landing on the pavement without a whisper, stepping forward smoothly.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 18

    He¡¯s a bit strange. The only men whom I¡¯ve seen with their heads completely shaven are poor farmers fighting against the creatures who take root there, but he is far from such. He also wears earrings, two small studs, something usually reserved for women, along with a pendant, two thin bracers, and an ornate belt, all of them artifacts. Opposed to that, his feet are bare. Draped in thousands of crowns worth of equipment, I know you can afford shoes.

    Oh wait. He¡¯s not actually touching the ground. I bend down to make sure and yup, there¡¯s at least a finger length of space between his heel and the ground. The hell? Is it training or is he too good to walk on the ground?

    ¡°Miss Kierra. We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.¡± He gives her a brief handshake. To my surprise, he immediately turns toward me. ¡°And Lourianne Tome. Our grand summoner is very excited to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I say, caught off guard. Huh. Thought this would be a repeat of someone important ignoring me. I guess this is different since, while Marquis Guiness did push my case forward, proving the existence of third affinity thralls is enough merit to get me admitted on my own. ¡°A pleasure to meet you¡­¡±

    ¡°Aurelius. I am the teacher for those with an advanced air affinity.¡± He bows gracefully, flashing a serene smile as he turns his attention back to Kierra. ¡°We will be peers from today on. I look forward to working with you.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her response is lackluster but her eyes are sparkling.

    ¡°I¡¯d imagine you would be eager to settle down after such a long journey. If you¡¯re ready, I will escort you to your residence. Feel free to ask me any questions you might have. We can also arrange a day for me to give you a tour of the city. There is quite a lot to see.¡±

    ¡°Why wait?¡± Kierra turns to give me a look. She wants to go right now? And if she¡¯s looking at me like that, she wants me to go too. Alright, alright.

    ¡°Mister Aurelius? Would you happen to have a map to our residence?¡±

    ¡°I brought a general map for you.¡± He reaches into a pocket of his robe and hands me a smooth piece of paper tied by a red thread. ¡°The address is the number 3 on Reddiford Street.¡±

    I gesture Geneva toward me, snapping the thread and opening the map in front of her. Wow. This place is humongous. The vast number of symbols and small words are making me a little dizzy. I spot the residential area, nodding at the street he mentioned. ¡°Geo, take the servants to the house. We¡¯ll be back later today.¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

    She takes the map and heads to the driver¡¯s bench. Gesturing for Earl and his sister to get into the carriage, she settles beside Nomad and Gajin.

    Bell gives me an imploring look from my feet. ¡°Coo?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re coming with me.¡±

    With my permission, she climbs my body, holding on by my shoulders. Her tail waves excitedly, beating against my back.

    My wife grins at me. ¡°Where would you suggest we go first?¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you would like to go on foot? The city is quite expansive.¡± He gives me a quick look. Ah, he¡¯s willing to trust her abilities but doubts my ability to keep up. Perfectly reasonable as I don¡¯t have a physical affinity. No offense taken.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about my Lou. She is far more durable than she looks. Besides.¡± She looks at me with a predatory grin. ¡°This is good practice for what is to come.¡±

    Haha. I¡¯m suddenly very afraid for the future.

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    ¡°Very well.¡± Aurelius lifts higher into the air. ¡°Then shall we start with the market?¡±

    -

    I bend over with my hands on my knees, breathing heavily. Thirty minutes of outright sprinting to keep up with Kierra¡¯s speed, which I know is much slower than her average speed out of consideration for me. Bell being on my back isn¡¯t helping but I don¡¯t have the heart to kick her off. And Kierra would be sure to tease me about it later.

    We¡¯ve arrived at the market. It¡¯s the same design as every other market I¡¯ve been to but the scale is entirely different. These are the widest streets I have seen and the made of the same gleaming white stone as the courtyard. There are two lines made of gold and two of silver, separating the carriages coming and going. Smooth stone on either side gives pedestrians a safe place to walk and gives access to stores without the worry of needing to dodge traffic.

    The buildings are all of impressive size but more astounding is their variety. Some are the standard flat front, triangle roofs I¡¯m used to. Others are more like spires. I see one that has a bowl-shaped roof, one that seems to be made entirely of glass, and more. All of them have magic signs advertising for them, filling the sky with bright colors and cheery, moving characters.

    I feel like the hick that I am as I gawk, taking in the sights with rapidly escalating excitement. A sharp slap to my lower back snaps me out of it, followed by the soothing feel of my wife¡¯s familiar mana refreshing me. The burn in my muscles remains though. She¡¯d never heal me completely as otherwise, the muscles won¡¯t grow. Then there¡¯d be no point to the torture and she¡¯d just be a bully.

    Our small group starts walking down the gray path. ¡°The Grand Hall was established to further humanity¡¯s understanding of magic but also as a beacon of progress. It has attracted experts across many fields. You can find anything here, including the resources to start your own venture if that¡¯s what you desire. As staff of the Grand Hall, our partnerships with businesses here are available to you.¡±

    Aurelius¡¯ voice is full of pride. I notice the people walking on our side of the road give space as he passes. We might have befriended a big fish. Has my luck finally turned?

    ¡°What kind of businesses?¡± Kierra asks, peering into the windows of the stores interestedly.

    ¡°Mainly artificers who make tools to assist in our work but we are also in good contact with a tamer who provides most of the staff¡¯s mounts, a blacksmith who can make metal do amazing things, and the best cook to ever grace the continent. You¡¯ve never had a better meal than his cooking, I¡¯d bet a month¡¯s salary on it.¡±

    ¡°What about a brewer?¡±

    ¡°Ah. There are plenty of teachers who like to unwind. Perhaps they can recommend a place.¡±

    ¡°And what about the students?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Student materials are covered with tuition and provided based on their chosen field. Anything beyond that is for them to find.¡±

    Hmm? He answered my question and the smile never leaves his face but something about that response feels cold. Maybe because he didn¡¯t look at me when he spoke. His eyes didn¡¯t leave Kierra and he immediately jumps back into his spiel about the market.

    Let¡¯s not jump to a conclusion. He was nothing but courteous when he introduced himself. Besides, he came here for her. As an advanced teacher, he probably doesn¡¯t have to deal with newcomers much. This doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s personal, right?

    A scream draws my attention down the street. People in front of us are hastily jumping out of the way as a carriage loses control. The driver falls off his bench as one of the bull-like creatures pulling for him jerks to the side, breaking free of its harness. The carriage tips to the side as the creature charges, barreling towards us.

    Aurelius raises a hand but Kierra steps in front of him. She¡¯s grinning as she faces down an animal that¡¯s taller than her and easily ten times her weight, its girth almost taking up the whole stone path. She holds her glowing hands in the path of the ivory horns curved toward her, meeting the angry eyes of her opponent with a grin.

    I can almost feel the tension in the air as they come together. No doubt the wide-eyed spectators expect her to be crushed. I simply shake my head.

    My wife stands in the same place, gripping the bull by the horns. The confused animal shakes its head, trying to figure out how the small woman can stop it, but it¡¯s pointless. It¡¯s not going anywhere until she wants it to. After a while, it realizes it as well and settles down, glaring at her balefully.

    Several men dressed in artifact armor come running down the road. After a quick conversation, she lets go of it and they take over. ¡°Foolish,¡± she says as walks back to us. ¡°One shouldn¡¯t keep a pet they can¡¯t control with their own hand.¡±

    ¡°An impressive display. The Grand Hall has great fortune attracting such a capable instructor.¡±

    Oh, no.

    There it is. Maybe from the surprise of the situation or he really is wowed by her physical display, but Aurelius¡¯ mask slips. I don¡¯t even know if I can explain how I know. I¡¯ve just seen it too many times for me to miss it or mistake it.

    For a second, I see his desire. He isn¡¯t immune after all, he¡¯s just much better at being subtle. A master level caster has his eyes set on my wife.

    Saints damn it all.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 19

    The sun has set by the time we arrive at our new home. The tour didn¡¯t last too long. The Grand Hall really is large but we saw plenty, including all of the markets and the front of the Beast Sanctuary where they do their manabeast research.

    That place may as well be a city in of itself and Kierra was absolutely delighted to see it. Me? Her physical affinity boosts kept me energized enough to keep running but I was far too tired to take much of an interest. Not that it mattered. Aurelius paid me a minimum of attention anyway so I didn¡¯t get much out of this tour, the bald bastard.

    I¡¯m also too tired to appreciate our property, ignoring the front garden as I trudge up the gravel path leading up to the door ahead of the others. My feet touch the bottom step when Geneva opens the door wide. ¡°Welcome home. Dinner has been prepared.¡± She looks past me to Aurelius. ¡°Will the esteemed guest be joining us?¡±

    No! Absolutely not! The saints will forsake the needy first!

    ¡°A good idea,¡± Kierra answers. ¡°There is still more I would like to ask you.¡±

    ¡­dammit.

    ¡°I would love to but unfortunately, I have another appointment tonight.¡± He takes a step toward her, letting his smile stretch a fraction wider. ¡°However, I am happy to make myself available to you. Perhaps tomorrow? I can answer your questions while showing off the better restaurants about.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow then.¡± Arrgh. She smiles back at him. I know I have nothing to be worried about in the romantic department, not on her end, but she won¡¯t shut him down. All because of some twisted idea about how it¡¯s my job to chase him off. Come on! At his level, he can probably use wind to cut me in half before I have the time to spit at him.

    And then she walks past Geneva like nothing¡¯s wrong. Leaving me alone with him.

    ¡°I would like to thank you for showing us around today,¡± I say as he¡¯s about to turn away. ¡°A master taking time off to escort two new arrivals is quite generous.¡±

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    ¡°The pleasure was all mine. Kierra is extraordinary. Beyond being an elf. We can learn a lot from each other. I¡¯m looking forward to working together.¡±

    Yeah, well we sleep together. ¡°I really lucked out when I married her.¡± She¡¯s taken, idiot.

    His smile doesn¡¯t flicker. ¡°The passion of the young. Burns so hot, so fast. Stirred by even the slightest wind. Fitting for a fire caster.¡±

    Double-speaking, shiny head, noble born, silver-tongued, pig. He just said he¡¯s going to break us up, didn¡¯t he? ¡°Rather than a flame, I liken it more to stone. Not so easily disturbed by a light breeze.¡±

    ¡°Wind wears down everything. Before you know it, you¡¯re carried away. Goodnight, Miss Tome. I look forward to your contributions to the Hall.¡±

    He tilts his head toward the sky and rapidly ascends. My hands snap up to my face as a strong gust of wind kicks up the dirt, making me cough. You did that on purpose, didn¡¯t you? Someone with your finesse doesn¡¯t need to use something so sloppy to travel. Acting all high and mighty with your little party trick of not touching the ground but on the inside, you¡¯re just another petty man who wants something he can¡¯t have.

    Geneva walks over to my side as I stare up at the sky with grit teeth. ¡°Before you ask me to kill him, may I suggest capturing him instead? His affinity is rather unremarkable but he has an impressive mana pool. I would enjoy feeding from him.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell, who never left my shoulders, hisses at the sky. [How dare that man make designs on what belongs to our glorious master! Please allow me to remind him of his place.]

    ¡°Oh, no. No no no.¡± I turn to Geneva and smile. I smile so wide my face hurts, enjoying her surprise. Do I look like Kierra right now? I feel like I might because for the first time, I can understand a little of the enjoyment she gets from fighting. Just imagining smashing in that man¡¯s face until he can no longer give me that stupid smile makes me feel warm and giddy.

    ¡°You leave him alone. Neither one of you are going to touch him.¡± Look down on me, huh. I¡¯d like to see you do it when I drag your ass out of the sky. ¡°All you¡¯re going to do is train me. You heard my wife. It¡¯s my job to chase away the dogs. Don¡¯t you go taking my prey away from me.¡±

    How long will it take? One year? Two? If that. Compared to the idea of surpassing my monster of a bride and devil of an elemental, a mere man is nothing.

    ¡°As you wish.¡± Geneva inclines her head to me. Her expression is hard to read. Perhaps calculating? Though she is always playing some angle so it¡¯s hard to know if I¡¯m right.

    ¡°Unless of course he comes after me. If he¡¯s the kind of coward that likes to take a fellow out before they can surpass him, you have full permission to end him.¡± If he cheats, I¡¯ll cheat harder.

    Her expression this time is easy to read. Very clear amusement. ¡°That sounds more like you, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Just being practical. What¡¯s for dinner?¡± I ask heading for the door. ¡°I could eat a dragon.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 20

    The Grand Hall is strict on their new students, dubbed initiates. We are told what to do and when to do it. I understand. Students come to this place from all over. They have to be sure that everyone has the same basic understanding of magic before they¡¯re allowed into the wider world of higher education. Doesn¡¯t make my current schedule easier.

    On the first day of the spring semester, Manaday, I¡¯m up and moving as the first bell rings at sunrise. Heh. I can already imagine how some of the nobles who paid their way here will react to such a schedule but this is nothing. Kierra is used to moving about at dawn and I¡¯ve gained the disgusting habit.

    Five days ago, a runner came around to explain my responsibilities as a student and deliver my schedule. The schedule is simple but grueling.

    First thing in the morning is a class called Mana Work I. Apparently, there is an entire discipline focusing on the study of the manipulation of mana within the body. Some masters can apparently wield pure mana though that¡¯s not covered in the beginner class. Us new casters are supposed to be using the techniques to move our mana more efficiently and widen our mana pool.

    Following that is Magic Theory. The runner said we explore all the different ways mana interacts with the world. Naturally. Not really sure what that means but I suppose that¡¯s the point of the class.

    Then comes the part of the day that I¡¯m dreading. Foundation I. The biggest weakness of most casters is someone taking them down physically before they have the chance to cast a spell. Grand Hall casters are the best. They¡¯d want to counter such a glaring weakness so initiates are required to train their bodies.

    This is the class my lovely wife has been put in charge of as something of a trial run to gauge her abilities as an instructor. These people have put her in charge of a group of young, eager, and highly suggestible fledgling fighters and given her free reign.

    Sigh. They have no idea what they¡¯ve done.

    Then there is time for lunch or more likely to allow us to catch our breath after the torture we¡¯re sure to endure. Normally, all meals are served in the dining rooms of student dorms which are divided into the least expensive Bronze Dorm, the standard housing of the Silver Dorm, and the noble-fueled extravagance of the Gold Dorm.

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    It was made clear to me that I am allowed to dine at any of the dorms I wish. Obviously, I want to eat the best food available but having to deal with nobles is going to be tiring. I¡¯ll try them all out eventually. And there¡¯s always the option of having one of the two geniuses in the house pack something. Really starting to wonder if there¡¯s anything the two of them can¡¯t do between them.

    The next two classes are the ones I¡¯m looking forward to the most. Practical Magic that explores how magic has been integrated into society followed by Basic Spellcrafting, whose title is self-explanatory. The spellcrafting is really important.

    I hate to admit it but my progress with Geneva is stalling. Without being able to just push the information into my mind, a compulsion that may leave me with ability but not the skill as Kierra puts it, she¡¯s having a bit of trouble teaching me.

    As in, she¡¯s having trouble explaining the basics I need to learn because it¡¯s the same thing as breathing to her at this point. Having someone else handle that part will finally allow me to start taking advantage of her knowledge, not to mention Geneva can learn by watching the instructors.

    The last class is World History. Again, self-explanatory but the ¡®world¡¯ in the title has my hopes up. Are they going to talk about somewhere other than the Harvest Kingdom? I want to know what we have to say about the elves and Green Mountain.

    It all starts with a quick meal. When I¡¯m finished, I scoop up Bell and a small leather bag that I sling across my shoulder. It¡¯s filled with bundles of paper, far more efficient pens with the ink actually inside them, and a small guide to the Grand Hall. All essential things for any initiate.

    Kierra and Geneva are waiting for me by the door. My wife doesn¡¯t have to leave yet and is dressed in her nightwear, eyes slightly narrowed with lingering sleep as she gives me a soft smile. Hah, now I don¡¯t want to go.

    ¡°None of that.¡± She beckons me forward, cupping my face as she gives me a soft kiss. ¡°Today is the start of your legend, hm?¡±

    Damn right it is. Today is the first step of living up to Cosmo¡¯s gift. The first step on the hopefully short road of beating Aurelius.

    I straighten my shoulders, giving her a strong hug. Then I lift her out of the way, enjoying her chuckles as I spin her around before setting her down. ¡°Out of the way, woman. I¡¯ve got work to do.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I hope you¡¯re so excited for our time together.¡±

    I almost flinch. Almost. ¡°Always excited for you.¡±

    I dash out the door before she can break my cool fa?ade, wearing a smile with her laughter behind me.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 21

    I¡¯m a little surprised that my first class is held on an open field beside the Foundation Hall, the center for acolytes focused on sharpening their martial prowess. The people hanging around the imposingly and honestly unattractive gray block of a building all wear polished armor, weapons attached to their waists and slung over their shoulders.

    On one of the fields, a man covered in what looks like armor made of scales is shouting at a group of over forty acolytes, each standing perfectly still in parade lines, expressions blank as they take the verbal tirade. Another field shows combat training underway. This is a little hard to connect to a place I consider a center of magic. Saints know I won¡¯t be doing this crap once I¡¯m done with mandatory Foundation I.

    Wait. Kierra¡¯s going to drag me into more of this nonsense, isn¡¯t she? Oh, no. These crazy people have been up even earlier than me, sweating first thing in the morning. I can¡¯t let that be my future!

    Reaching the field designated for initiates on my schedule, I spot my fellows and banish my negative thoughts.

    The first thing I notice is that they are young. I¡¯m pushing twenty while most of the brats in front of me can barely be fifteen, though there¡¯s a few older dogs like me.

    The second thing is that most of them are nobles. I can tell from the scowls on their faces at the early hour and their unpractical clothing, especially the girls.

    A few are hard to place being very composed and well prepared. Of those, a girl dressed in light armor stands out the most. Mainly because she has short hair. Noblewomen don¡¯t do that but she doesn¡¯t shrink away from the others, making me think she¡¯s noble born after all.

    The last thing is that none of them are particularly impressive. I don¡¯t know what I was expecting from a gathering of the kingdom¡¯s supposed geniuses. Maybe for them to glow with an inner light. Something¡­special.

    In the end, they¡¯re simply men and women. Boys and girls, really. Flesh and blood mortals. It makes me feel immensely better about learning with and, at the heart of it, competing against them.

    I stomp onto the field wearing a big smile, a little excited. With my elementals with me, I draw attention. Some of it very unwanted as a few hungry eyes latch onto Geneva. I draw a few more eyes when I casually sit down on the grass.

    Idiots making themselves uncomfortable because they¡¯re too good to take a seat. I bet the early birds who rushed here to impress or out of fear are feeling especially upset, seeing as the teacher is nowhere in sight.

    ¡°Shameful.¡±

    I turn my head to see one of the girls staring down at me with clear disdain. A fine example of pride and repeated teachings of superiority forging an obnoxious personality. Who wears such a heavy dress this early? And doesn¡¯t she understand that we¡¯re going to have Foundation before she has time to change? Kierra is going to destroy her if she has the distinct misfortune of being in my wife¡¯s class. But for now¡­

    ¡°The first thing you should say to a person is a greeting. Or did you miss that lesson in etiquette?¡±

    She sniffs. ¡°I don¡¯t need to be spoken to of etiquette from someone willing to roll around in the mud. Your family should be ashamed for raising such an animal.¡±

    An animal? Saints witness, I¡¯m sitting cross-legged on a patch of grass and that makes me an animal? This is why I never got along with the other children.

    Snorting, I stretch out on my side, propping my head up with a hand. No, better idea. Geneva, come here.

    Seeing what I want in my mind, she sits back on her heels beside me. I roll so my head is on her thighs, letting out a comfortable sigh. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll lie here comfortable in my shame while you spend the hour standing with your pride intact. See how that works out for you.¡±

    She turns away from me in disgust. Sweeping my gaze over the crowd, about half are of her same opinion. Most of the other half don¡¯t seem to care or are purposely not getting involved, their gazes firmly looking at anything besides us.

    I do have one comrade. The girl with the short hair and light armor. Moving a little closer to me, she sits down cross-legged. I wave and she gives me a brisk nod. Look at that, made a friend already. Well, the gesture wasn¡¯t quite friendly but here¡¯s to hope.

    The princess wannabe is doubly annoyed now that the savages have multiplied. With the look she¡¯s giving me, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she¡¯s sizing up her chances of taking us out before the teacher arrives. A suspicion confirmed by Bell, who straightens up from her lounging place by my ankles to give the girl a scowl.

    Luckily, our teacher arrives before she can work up the courage. At least, I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s the teacher.

    The young man wearing the same kind of expensive robe as Aurelius, damn him, but it¡¯s deep red instead of silver. His long dark hair hangs straight down his back, a silver headband keeping it out of his face. Half a dozen bead necklaces hang on his neck and his collar is undone, exposing a bit of his pale chest. Jeez, I¡¯ve seen noble girls less¡­groomed than him.

    ¡°Hello, new initiates.¡± He puts his hands together and bows to us. ¡°My name is Mano. It is an honor to be the one to welcome you to your new lives here at the Grand Hall. Today, we take the first steps on your new journey of magic.¡±

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    I can¡¯t see a hint of deception in that smile. He¡¯s genuinely excited to be teaching us, I think. Reassures my slight nerves. This isn¡¯t a tutor who can¡¯t say one thing to me if they want their salary paid. This is an esteemed institution. My previous work ethic will get me a good dose of embarrassment and perhaps kicked out. One more thing driving me to succeed.

    ¡°As you all know, this is Mana Work. Here we will practice using pure mana.¡± He raises a hand palm up and wisps of red mana curl up from his fingertips. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re wondering how useful mana in its pure form can be, as opposed to a solid earth wall or burning fire. There are many things but for those of your level, we will focus on the most immediate benefits. One, it makes you more sensitive to the use of mana. Seeing is believing and a caster is nothing if they can¡¯t prove their spells. So, if you six would group together. Stand close now, backs facing us.¡±

    The chosen initiates follow his instruction, the rest of us watching their uncomfortable shuffling with amusement and curiosity.

    ¡°Now, one of you form a spell. Don¡¯t release it.¡±

    There¡¯s a moment of silence as Mano waits for them. Then he quickly steps forward and taps a young guy on his shoulder who turns with wide eyes. Wide eyes that are glowing.

    Wow. He just picked out someone trying to cast without seeing them. That¡¯s incredible. And one of the most valuable skills to defend against an enemy caster. Why didn¡¯t my tutors teach me this? I would have never been caught by Crowley Cain or anyone like him.

    I feel like Father took the cheap route when it came to my educators.

    ¡°Sensing the mana around you is not a hard technique but it does require diligence. Now, the second effect which I¡¯m sure you all will appreciate much more, is that active practice manipulating pure mana is the best way to grow your mana pool, increasing your mana coefficient.¡±

    Yes, definite appreciation there. His words have everyone paying rapt attention now if they weren¡¯t before.

    Mano nods. ¡°Then let¡¯s get right into it. You will be remaining still for a long time so I suggest everyone get comfortable.¡± His eyes go to me and we share a grin.

    The others shuffle about. Some give in to their dark desires and sit on the grass, wincing at the thought of their expensive clothes. A few remain stubborn, including the little princess who berated me at the start, standing while giving us looks filled with disdain.

    Mano does nothing to correct them. ¡°The first step is simply being aware of your mana¡¯s flow.¡± A finger touches his chest. ¡°The core is right beside the heart and pumps alongside it. Out to the shoulders and along the arms. Pooling in the navel before flowing down to the legs. Along the spine to the crown of the head.¡± A finger moves demonstratively as he speaks. ¡°And hundreds of branches to reach every part of the body. The body does this naturally. Feel it. Then follow it.¡±

    Mano sits down on the grass and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. I try copying him, closing my eyes while focusing on my heart. It¡¯s fairly easy to feel my mana core but as for the rest of it, my mind is drawing a blank. I doubt it¡¯s meant to be something immediately picked up. I understand that, really.

    But it¡¯s hard to stay focused on literally nothing. My feet start to twitch as I struggle to keep feeling for¡­whatever I¡¯m supposed to be feeling.

    [Would you like me to intervene?]

    Please do!

    She chuckles. [And you were so excited to improve by your own hands.]

    I¡¯ll do the work but I won¡¯t stop you from making it easier to understand. Honestly, it¡¯s the main reason I formed our contract. Teach away.

    [Very well.] Geneva¡¯s hands come up to either side of my head. It¡¯s as if the world beyond me disappears. I can¡¯t hear the frustrations of the others, smell the earth, or feel the sun on my skin. My awareness is narrowed onto myself, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

    I can feel my awareness being sucked deeper into myself, until the pounding of my heart is not in my ears, but all around me. No, not my heart. This warmth is my mana, making it my core. Looking around, I can see ten thick lines of energy branching off from it, rather than five.

    [Your young teacher is correct in describing the main mana veins. The darker vein is the negative flow, your mana returning to your core as it reaches the end of the vein. Each flow has a reverse but let¡¯s forget about that for now.]

    The darker blue lines disappear.

    [Feel it, Lou. Follow the flow. Only once you¡¯ve learned each and every vein can you learn to manipulate it.]

    With Geneva in my ear, I fall into a deep meditation while focusing on my mana.

    -

    I feel her pulling my consciousness up and then the world comes back.

    I blink open my eyes to see everyone around me moving, most stretching. Huh? Is the class over? But we just started.

    ¡°That is good work. If you feel like you haven¡¯t made much headway, don¡¯t worry about it. It takes time to master such an ability. Every day, the first ten minutes is set aside for questions. Ask me anything and I will try my best to assist you.¡±

    Once again, he places his palms together and bows to us. The students throw their farewells back, hurrying off to their next class. I leisurely get up and stretch, trying to see if there are any notable changes in my mana pool.

    [It¡¯ll take more than a day to show progress, even for you.]

    Good point.

    ¡°See you tomorrow, Mr. Mano.¡±

    ¡°Ah, wait a moment please.¡±

    I pause as he walks up to me. He¡¯s smiling so this can¡¯t be a bad thing, right? ¡°It¡¯s Lourianne Tome, isn¡¯t it? A senior teacher spoke to me about your elementals.¡± He inclines his head toward Geneva who gives him a shy wave in return, using her meek public persona.

    ¡°Well, a summoner is nothing without her elementals.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Though I have to admit, I didn¡¯t realize how valuable they are.¡± His eyes are hot as they continue to stare at her. Saints bless this pit of depravity, not another pervert! ¡°Earlier, I noticed your meditation. Only the most senior of mana manipulators can reach such a state that your elemental can induce. As you¡¯re not doubt aware, it can greatly increase one¡¯s cultivation.¡±

    Oh. He¡¯s only after her for her magic. Sorry for thinking the worse of you, friend.

    ¡°If your elemental could do this for others, it would be valuable indeed.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Hm. I want to outright reject him. Geneva is mine. I don¡¯t want to share her just because it¡¯s useful to you. Also, I¡¯m trying to keep the true extent of her capabilities secret. She¡¯s my ace in the hole but if it becomes common knowledge that I have an elemental with a coefficient of close to a thousand with me, then the kingdom can no longer ignore me.

    I need privacy to develop to my true potential. Don¡¯t make my life difficult.

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t worry.¡± Mano holds up his hands. ¡°This isn¡¯t me taking advantage of my position to get some benefits. In fact, if something like that happens, tell a teacher immediately. The Grand Hall severely frowns on that and they can bring in Interrogators for that sort of thing. I am simply pointing out that if such a service could be made available, then it would be worth quite a lot. One of the main ways a caster grows in the Hall is through an exchange of favors.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I understand and will keep your advice in mind.¡± An exchange sounds much better, though I can¡¯t imagine what I could get from him.

    Mano seems satisfied. ¡°Thank you for your time, Lourianne. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°See you.¡±

    I leave the field with a bit of a bounce in my step. Already making gains though they¡¯re not quite what I expected.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 22

    Mana Theory is incredibly boring. It takes place in the Center Hall, the large building directly across from the Foundation Hall where all the main classes are taught. There are far more people here, all dressed in different robes that I¡¯m guessing show their affinities, but they have no time for initiates as they move to where they need to be. Luckily, the initiate classes are on the first floor so I have no problems finding my room. Even if I did, I could have just followed any of my fellows from the field. Seems we¡¯re all one happy family until the end of the year.

    The classroom is a simple room filled with twelve short tables arranged in two columns. A large desk at the front for the teacher, the wall behind them made of something resembling dark glass. At a touch, shapes and words flit across the surface, showing in-depth diagrams as the teacher excitedly speaks about the topics we¡¯ll be exploring.

    The woman has an uncomfortable fixation on natural disasters caused by surges in ambient mana, but hey. Either way, I diligently pay attention and write my notes. Once upon a time, I would have ignored the information I deemed useless and boring.

    Never again. Since my time in the Enchanted Forest, my own lack of knowledge has been slammed in my face time and time again. Back then, I vowed to be the most diligent student that ever existed should I get the chance. I don¡¯t have many great points but I do keep my vows.

    Afterwards, the main event that I¡¯ve been dreading, er, looking forward to all morning. Back to the fields for Foundation I.

    There¡¯s still a chance. I know my wife has been assigned a group of initiates but from my understanding, there are more than one, each group having slightly different schedules.

    Cosmo. The saints. Any higher power that is listening. Please don¡¯t let my wife get a hold of my group. I might be able to enjoy this class, as I¡¯m fairly confident in my physical abilities by now, but not if she has anything to do with it. Mainly because she won¡¯t let me cheat and use my elemental form.

    Though as I see the field populated with sweetly ignorant youths, a terrible feeling twists my gut as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I know this feeling too well. She¡¯s watching us right now, isn¡¯t she?

    [Yes.]

    By the swinging of her tail, I can see Geneva is amused by my predicament. Honestly, I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. This is how my luck always goes.

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    ¡°Why are you so distraught?¡±

    Hm? Was that directed towards me? I turn to see the girl with the short hair and light armor facing me, waiting. Huh, guess it was. ¡°Because we have been sentenced to hell for a year.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t look like a stranger to training. I¡¯ve seen the way you move.¡± She gives my body a pointed once over. Heh. In a different kind of scenario, that kind of look might get me excited.

    Now that I¡¯m thinking of it, she¡¯s not bad looking. Doesn¡¯t have the fierce beauty of my wife or the heart-melting cuteness of Geneva. Her face is rather plain but she has nice eyes. They¡¯re open without wide-eyed naivety and a blue as clear as a summer sky. It¡¯s a comfortable stare, unlike my overbearing companions.

    ¡°¡­what¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Alana.¡± She sticks out her hand and I grasp it. Her fingers close over mine, trying to squeeze them. Pfft. Going to take more than that if you want to impress me. She grins when I return her grip. ¡°May our meeting be blessed by the saints.¡±

    ¡°Call me Lou.¡±

    ¡°You going to tell me what you mean by hell?¡±

    ¡°Ah. I have some idea about who our instructor is going to be. Probably the best we could have gotten but, well¡­¡± I let the words trail off, sighing. There¡¯s just no putting her into words.

    ¡°Hmph. Whatever it is, it can¡¯t be worse than knight training.¡± Her eyes narrow as she recalls what must be unpleasant memories. ¡°That was hell.¡±

    You¡¯re going to eat those words. And a lot of dirt. I wonder, did she get put in charge of my group because of me? I doubt she¡¯d want anyone else messing up her work and she gets a particular joy watching me struggle. This place has made it clear how much they value her so if she asked to be in charge of a particular group, I doubt they¡¯d deny her.

    I reach out and pat her shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Alana.¡± You¡¯re about to go through quite a bit of pain because of me. One of these days, I¡¯ll treat you to lunch in the market.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll understand eventually.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re a strange one, Lou. Though I guess strange is better than the rest of these idiots.¡± She gives the others surrounding us a baleful glare. Particularly on the obvious nobles dressed in heavier clothing. There¡¯s another point in the common-born theory of mine.

    We stand in companionable silence for several minutes. The crowd starts whispering amongst themselves as time continues to pass and the teacher doesn¡¯t show up. Some are quite loud in their denouncements. I wince, knowing that Kierra is watching and taking notes. Fools. You don¡¯t know this is all a part of her game.

    For my part, I begin stretching as I know it won¡¯t be long before she appears. Alana nods in approval and joins me, the two of us ignoring the looks we get.

    ¡°Looks like everyone is here.¡±

    I stand up as the whispers around me turn into loud exclamations. Beside me, Alana gasps as Kierra walks onto the field. She¡¯s dressed in the light leathers she prefers while hunting, silver hair pulled back and tied with a strip of leather.

    Something so simple but on her, it¡¯s stunning. I¡¯m not the only one who thinks so either.

    ¡°Hello, everyone. My name is Kierra D¡¯Atainna but you will call me teacher. I am here to make you strong. Strength comes with pain. If you cannot bear the pain, then you will break and I will toss your broken, useless carcass off my field. Yes? Good. Here¡¯s to a happy year together~¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 23

    Saints give her guidance. What kind of introduction was that? She¡¯s smiling her bloodthirsty smile, but to others, it might come off as friendly. Some of these idiots actually laugh, the excitement of seeing an elf and their inability to imagine someone truly threatening them obscuring her menace.

    ¡°Now then¡ª¡±

    ¡°Um!¡±

    We all look over to the girl who interrupted her. Oh, it¡¯s the little princess who tried to start problems with me earlier. Her eyes are practically shining, face flushed with excitement. ¡°Are you really an elf?¡±

    Kierra reaches up and pinches her long ears. ¡°Last time I checked. And yes, I am from the elven continent, specifically the Violet Dusk Province.¡±

    ¡°Saints bless me, this is so exciting! Why¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re so excited to meet me but this isn¡¯t the time for questions, hm? Perhaps when the lesson is over, I can spare a few moments.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Excuse my lack of decorum.¡± The girl seems to come back to herself, smiling sheepishly.

    ¡°So, let¡¯s jump right into it. Everyone get a little distance from each other. Enough to swing your arms out. Good, good. Now we¡¯re going to do some stretches. Follow along with me.¡±

    The field is filled with giggles and snickering as we try our best to imitate the poses, often ending up with ridiculous results while Kierra shouts instructions. Alana is smiling but my face remains stoic. This woman. Lowering their guards with that big smile. It¡¯s only going to make what happens next that much worse.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s good enough. Time to see what you can do. One lap around the field. Go at whatever pace is comfortable. Don¡¯t need anyone collapsing in the first few minutes. What are you all standing around for? Go on.¡±

    I¡¯m already moving before she finished speaking. To her credit, Alana is right beside me and we take to the task at a brisk jog. A few students are close behind us but the majority are taking it easy. For some, it might really be their comfortable pace but there is a large group of geniuses back there who are taking their sweet time walking. Some are lazy while others simply aren¡¯t dressed in a way to promote strenuous movement.

    Either way, Kierra is going to love them.

    Alana and I finish our lap and hang close to Kierra as she watches the others finish with the intensity of a predator stalking prey. When the last of the walkers have made it back, she claps her hands, her smile stretching wider. ¡°Good. Now that I have a good idea what everyone can do, let¡¯s get started for real. All of you, laps. And this time you¡¯re going to run until you drop.¡±

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    Haha. And so, it begins.

    ¡°Teacher,¡± Alana calls out. ¡°When you say run until we drop, do you mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°I mean exactly what I said. I want you to run until your legs can¡¯t hold you up anymore. Don¡¯t stop unless you collapse.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    I cut her off by grabbing her arm, pulling her after me as I follow the instruction. ¡°It¡¯s not good to argue with the instructor,¡± I sigh as we fall into a rhythm.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t arguing. It¡¯s just¡­running until we collapse? Knight training isn¡¯t easy but it¡¯s the first day and this a group unused to physical activity. Pushing them to that extent sounds a bit unreasonable.¡±

    Foolish girl. It¡¯s only going to get worse from here on out. ¡°Let¡¯s just do our best.¡±

    A shout makes me look to the side. Kierra plants her foot in the back of a lagging student, jolting them forward. ¡°Did you not hear me?¡± she yells, voice carrying to everyone on the field. ¡°I said run. If your legs can¡¯t do that much, you¡¯d be better off without them and I¡¯d be happy to oblige you.¡±

    I turn away as she kicks someone else, focusing on my own muscles starting to feel the burn of exercise. After my fifth lap, sweating is falling into my eyes but I spot two foundation acolytes by the looks of them approaching us, their armor clacking as they pull a wagon behind them. The cages stacked atop it look very ominous, but I put it out of my mind. We¡¯ll find out what they¡¯re for eventually.

    After the eighth lap, I struggle to keep going. Did this field grow? It must have. I¡¯m putting in the same effort but it¡¯s taking twice as long to finish. Alana is barely keeping up beside me. Strands of blonde hair that have escaped their tie are glued to her face and her head is bowed as she powers through the exhaustion to keep running.

    ¡°No more!¡±

    I turn, eyes widening as I see all the students lying on the grass. I grab Alana¡¯s arm and slow her down to watch the student facing off with Kierra. Facing off is a little wrong. He¡¯s on one knee and I think I can hear his panting from here.

    They exchange words for a few minutes before Kierra claps him on the shoulder and walks toward the middle of the field. ¡°Alright, everyone. Take a break.¡±

    I join the collective sigh of relief and fall to the grass, Alana right beside me.

    ¡°Thought¡­I really was¡­going to collapse.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± That was definitely trying but something isn¡¯t right. Simple exhaustion isn¡¯t enough to stop her.

    One of the knights pulling the wagon grabs a barrel off it and jogs about the field, distributing canteens of water. I take what¡¯s offered and guzzle down half of it before lying down in the grass and closing my eyes.

    They snap open when the ground begins to rumble. I jump to my feet as earthen walls rise along the outside of the field, creating a passageway that branches off from its entrance in the middle of the field to form a large circle.

    The second knight who worked the earth stands up and works together with his partner to pull down the cages, setting them on the ground.

    ¡°Alright, everyone gather up.¡± Kierra waves us over. ¡°Into the passage, two lines. Leave some space, you¡¯re going to need it. That¡¯s good.¡± She walks over and picks up one of the cages the two knights are struggling with, placing it in front of the entrance.

    ¡°I asked all of to run until you collapsed. You didn¡¯t do that. That¡¯s okay. It¡¯s my job to coax out your maximum efforts. So, I''ve provided a bit of motivation.¡±

    The knights place the second cage next to the first and open the door. My eyes widen as two dogs slowly pad out. They aren¡¯t any taller than my knee but two large fangs hang out of their mouths and a thin slit that greatly resembles a vertical eye sticks out on their foreheads.

    Kierra opens the cage in front of her and two more come out, each bristling with aggression.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 24

    ¡°These are dense plain wolves, or more commonly known as royal hounds. They naturally live on plains whose grasses can reach up to seven feet in height. They¡¯ve developed a mental affinity, which allows them to communicate on their hunts to adapt to the lack of visibility. Because of that, they¡¯re very easy to train. On my command, they¡¯ll rush forward and take you down as easily as they would a deer.¡±

    The others exclaim and her smile grows wider.

    ¡°So, again, I want you to run till you collapse. Otherwise, you might get eaten.¡±

    ¡°She cannot be serious,¡± Alana mumbles beside me. I laugh, waving off the questioning look she shoots me.

    ¡°Everyone, get ready.¡± She snaps her fingers and the dogs look at her. ¡°Speak!¡±

    Loud barking fills the air and the initiates recoil. I¡¯m already pushing through the crowd to get as close to the front as possible. A few more have the right idea, already taking off through the passage.

    ¡°Hunt!¡±

    The barking morphs to snarls as the dogs rush forward. The students scream and the crowd begins to move. Alana and I led the pack before but we¡¯re left behind as fear propels those who lagged behind past us. Even Alana speeds up beside me. I shake my head.

    Now¡¯s not the time to waste your energy.

    I ignore the panicked screams behind me as the dogs set upon the slower students. No need to run with all my might right away. As long as I stay somewhere in the middle, I should be safe. A few quick glances over my shoulder keeps me in the right position but I¡¯m forced to speed us as adrenaline fails and more fall to the dogs.

    Kierra is picking them up before it gets worse than a couple cuts and probably healing them but this is going to be a traumatic memory, especially with her grinning manically as she runs along the walls shouting encouragements.

    I catch up to Alana who is panting. She turns to me with wide eyes. ¡°That elf is insane!¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡­don¡¯t know,¡± I huff. Someone ahead of me trips and I jump over them, leaving them in the dust. ¡°We¡¯re definitely motivated.¡±

    ¡°One wrong step and those things could kill someone!¡±

    I shove someone blocking my way in the narrow passage aside. She bounces off the earth wall but I forget about her once she¡¯s out of sight. ¡°No one¡¯s¡­going to die. Might¡­lose a few fingers though.¡±

    I laugh, taking in the way she looks at me. Like I¡¯m crazy.

    The snarling is getting louder. I glance over my shoulder. Two students look like they¡¯re about to cry as they stumble forward as fast as they can, panting harshly. I wince as one of them is knocked down by a dog. He screams as the animal bites into his shoulder.

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    ¡°That¡¯s gotta hurt,¡± I mumble as I turn around. Time to focus. I put more strength into my stride. ¡°Good luck!¡± I shout as I overtake Alana and the others in front of me, putting myself at the head of the pack.

    There are more screams. I think I can hear Alana among them but they¡¯re jumbled together as the dogs claim more victims. I think I¡¯m outpacing them but I can¡¯t keep this up forever. My lungs already feel like they¡¯re going to combust.

    ¡°As expected of you, dedia.¡±

    I turn my head to side. Kierra is running atop the wall beside me, eyes narrowed. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be using any tricks to make my training easier, would you?¡±

    ¡°Would I¡­be sweating so much¡­if I was?¡±

    ¡°Good answer. In that case, you should dodge.¡±

    I curse as she pulls out a small knife. Her fingertips glow with the green light that says she¡¯s using magic before she throws it at me. I duck and just manage to stay on my feet. From the corner of my eye, I see a shadow and twist away.

    One of the wolves eats dirt as its lunge fails. Darn it, they¡¯re too close.

    ¡°Dodge!¡±

    That¡¯s too vague! Do I weave or do I duck or¡ª

    I just manage to move out of the way of the next flying knife but it scrapes my side. The smell of blood excites the beasts because their snarling grows louder.

    ¡°Again. And another one.¡±

    ¡°Aw, come on!¡± This time, I see her pull two of the knives. Gritting my teeth, I jump forward as she pulls her arms back. The blades miss me but I yelp in pain as one of the wolves grabs my ankle before I can get back to my feet. My teeth are grit in pain as the other wolves surround me, opening their jaws wide.

    ¡°Heel!¡±

    As one, they step back. I grit my teeth to hold in a scream as the one holding my leg lets go, its teeth doing more damage on the way out.

    Kierra hops down from the wall and tsks over me. ¡°Not bad but you¡¯re going to have to do much better.¡±

    Frickin¡¯ elf.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make it worth the pain if you can hold on.¡± She crouches down beside me and places a glowing hand on my leg. I shudder at the eerie feeling of my skin crawling as the wound stitches together, my body relaxing as the sharp pain eases to a dull throbbing.

    She grabs me under my arm and hauls me to my feet before walking me through the passage. The wolves following behind us are unsettling. I was just running for my life and now the would-be killers are trotting along happily with their tongues lolling from their mouths, the opposite of threatening.

    Kierra takes me down the opening and drops me in the middle of the field where the rest of the students are gathered. Yeah, they¡¯re definitely traumatized. Many flinch when they see the wolves, taking several large steps backward. Alana finds me right away, checking me over for injuries.

    She lets out a breath of relief when she sees I¡¯m fine and guides me to sit down in the grass. ¡°You did good to last so long.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. Everyone alright?¡±

    ¡°Physically, we¡¯re fine. That elf is crazy but she¡¯s incredibly powerful. The speed she heals¡­she might have a pure physical affinity.¡±

    ¡°What? No way.¡± Saints, that sounded fake. Should¡¯ve added at least a gasp. Whatever. I was just hounded by four beasts. I can be drained. ¡°At least that¡¯s over.¡±

    Kierra claps her hands and we all turn toward her. ¡°That was a much better effort. Very good, very good. You¡¯ve earned a long break. And once everyone¡¯s caught their breath, we¡¯ll go again.¡±

    There are shouts of dismay, several exclaimed refusals, and too many murmured curses to pick apart. Kierra laughs over them all and I shake my head.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe the Hall allows this.¡±

    ¡°I was told once that if a trial doesn¡¯t kill you, it makes you stronger.¡± By the crazy elf over there. Despite her methods, I¡¯ve undoubtedly grown stronger. The evidence is that I was the last one remaining. Even over Alana, who has been training to be a knight.

    Hmm. Hold on. Isn¡¯t that weird? There¡¯s no way I should have been able to outlast her. As far as I can tell, my human form is strictly human. Cosmo¡¯s gift doesn¡¯t provide any benefits in that respect. Another mystery to solve about my own existence.

    ¡°Better rest while you can, Alana,¡± I say as I lay back in the grass and focus on calming my still racing heart. ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot more fun in store before the day is over.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 25

    Alana and I drag ourselves away from the field as the bells toll the end of our ¡®lesson¡¯. Many students are struggling to pull themselves off the ground. Kierra¡¯s lesson feels like it lasted for hours but we have other classes to get to. ¡°You alright there, friend?¡±

    She just grunts in reply.

    ¡°Better pull yourself together. We¡¯ve got to do it all again tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Saints damn that elf, you¡¯re right.¡± Alana growls as she tugs her hair free and stuffs the tie in her pocket. ¡°We¡¯re going to die.¡±

    ¡°No, we won¡¯t. Like you said, she¡¯s powerful.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Maybe this is how the Grand Hall does it. It takes considerable mental fortitude to be a caster, on the battlefield or off. Maybe this is their way of weeding out the weak-willed.¡±

    I doubt it. This is definitely just my wife having fun at our expense. But good for you trying to take it in a positive light. I won¡¯t be the one to disillusion you. Not yet. ¡°Then that¡¯s good for us because we aren¡¯t weak-willed.¡±

    ¡°I think you should prepare yourself, Lou. She especially seemed to enjoy tormenting you.¡±

    What, really? I wonder what gave you that idea. Was it when she threw the chicken blood on me to make the wolves single me out or when she strapped one of the helper¡¯s armor on me to slow me down? ¡°Nah, she just likes me.¡±

    My stomach rumbles. ¡°Ah, I can eat a horse.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I¡¯ll be eating in the Bronze Dorm.¡±

    Hm? What¡¯s with the look you¡¯re giving me? We had a nice friendly energy going on but the second lunch comes¡ªah. Right. The dorms are divided by social class. Eating in the Bronze Dorm means she¡¯s on the lowest rung, either a noble with no status or a commoner with even less. Doubt she¡¯ll be so comfortable around me if I waltz into the Gold Dorm. But the food there is likely to be amazing.

    Decisions, decisions.

    ¡°¡­then shall we eat together?¡± Just for a day or two. It¡¯s sad but I don¡¯t want to give up the chance of making my first friend here.

    The smile she gives me is brilliant, transforming her plain face into a pretty picture. ¡°Great. Hopefully, it¡¯s not as bad as breakfast.¡±

    Well, that doesn¡¯t bode well for the future. ¡°I can eat just about anything.¡±

    -

    As expected of the Grand Hall, the area for the student dorms is quite amazing¡­except for the Bronze Dorm.

    How in the world is anyone supposed to live in this dump? Pray for the saints cleansing light, the three-story wooden building is done in the style of military barracks with absolutely no color. Only the top floor has any windows, birds making their nests on the sills. Vines grow along the sides and the yard in front of it is infested with weeds.

    Perhaps it wouldn¡¯t look so bad but with the gleaming Silver Dorm and Gold Dorm wrapped in dancing magical illusions in sight, it just looks sad. And is it tilting a bit?

    ¡°¡­you don¡¯t live here.¡±

    I turn to see Alana giving me a look full of suspicion. ¡°I don¡¯t live in any of the dorms. My circumstances are a bit special.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    The tension in her shoulders eases. Oh, thought I was some high noble playing games with you? That¡¯s definitely something they would do. I slap her shoulder. ¡°Relax there, blondie. The last thing you need to worry about is me throwing some title at you when you least expect it. I mean, I¡¯ve got one but it¡¯s nothing extraordinary.¡± Yet.

    ¡°Forgive me. I¡¯m rather the same. As in, my title is nothing to pay attention to either. After all, I had to come to the Hall on a scholarship.¡±

    ¡°Huh. You must be pretty skilled for them to pay your way.¡± I know exactly how expensive this place is as there was a time I planned to pay my own fees. She is very talented.

    ¡°Rather than skill, my benefactor is interested in my potential.¡± She clears her throat, trying to keep her face composed but her chest puffs out a little, showing her pride. ¡°I have the light affinity.¡±

    I come to a quick stop. All greater affinities are rare. As affinities are passed down, some families have a greater chance than others but for the whole of humanity, it¡¯s like finding a diamond in the middle of the road. There¡¯s a greater chance to be born with double common affinities.

    Of those greater affinities, celestial is the rarest but second to it is light. Quick, versatile, and above all, powerful. More than that, light is the attribute of the first saint, Saint Executor, the man who slew the evil dragons. It has a special place in the hearts of the Harvest Kingdom.

    Forget a diamond. With her value as a soldier, an idol, and a mother who has a stronger chance to pass her affinity on, she¡¯s a xanderium mine. Whoever her backer is, they must be powerful. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the king himself recommended her. Hell, if the royal family doesn¡¯t know about her by now, they will soon.

    ¡°Poor girl.¡±

    ¡°Wait, huh?¡± Alana frowns. ¡°That¡¯s not the response I usually get.¡±

    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s get some food.¡±

    Opening the heavy double doors of the dorm, we walk into a spacious lobby. There¡¯s a large, curved desk in the middle with a dark hallway directly behind it and two staircases along its sides.

    Behind the desk, a young girl looks up at us. It¡¯s hard to get a look at her face as shaggy, dark hair covers her features. I know she¡¯s looking at us from the way her head comes up. Knowing someone is watching you without seeing their eyes is a little unsettling.

    Alana seems unbothered as she leads me past the desk and down the dark hall. After a few steps, I start to hear a commotion. Don¡¯t tell me that¡¯s the dining hall? ¡°Saints, are there people in there or wild dogs?¡±

    She snickers. ¡°None of the people here had an etiquette tutor, heh.¡±

    They sound like they need one. But I keep my comments to myself as she opens another set of double doors.

    The dining hall is¡­efficient. Long, bare rectangular tables with stools for seats. On the far left are three of those tables with several pig pots stacked high and five tall stacks of bowls. Four older women with graying hair and stained aprons stand behind the table, serving those with bowls in their hands.

    As for the students¡­all I can say is madness.

    There is a clear divide. Closer to the serving table are the older students. There seems to be a majority of foundation acolytes here as they wear the same type of light armor as Alana. They¡¯re more than comfortable, talking loudly with one another as they sit together in tight groups, some even forgoing the stools to sit directly on the table or hanging onto their friends.

    Not too far away are the robed acolytes. One might expect them to be a little more subdued but no. If anything, they¡¯re flashier with their use of magic and hot debates on spell theory. While we¡¯re moving across the room, I jump away as someone uncomfortably close is smacked with a blast of wind that sends him tumbling to the ground, laughter erupting around him.

    Alana ushers me to where the food is served, putting a tray in my hands and passing me a bowl.

    ¡°Erm, can I grab more than one bowl?¡±

    ¡°Trust me, you don¡¯t want more than one.¡±

    ¡°I can handle it.¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± She puts three more bowls on my tray before I shake my head. When we reach one of the old ladies, she gives me a big smile missing half of its teeth. ¡°Good to see a girl not afraid to eat. Here you go, you have enough until you¡¯re full.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Lovely woman.

    Alana drags me over to a table on the far-right side. Here all the initiates are gathered. I can tell because they seem just as shocked about the dining hall as me, though some have already acclimated, talking excitedly across their tables.

    Our table is rather quiet. Let¡¯s see here. Guarded, double-guarded, super-guarded, and someone looking down their nose at me. Wow, this is not a friendly atmosphere at all but I sit beside Alana.

    ¡°Everyone, this is Lou, one of my fellows. Lou, these are my hallmates. The brothers are Mike and Gabriel, the proud one is Abel, and the girl trying to pretend we¡¯re not here is Marthe. Let¡¯s all get along.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 26

    ¡°What¡¯s your full name?¡± Abel immediately demands.

    Oof. Right off the bat with the name dropping. Here we have a lower noble or, at the very least, an aspiring one. ¡°Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Tome?¡± He scoffs at me. I swear, with that kind of attitude you better be some long-lost cousin to the royal family. This place is full of annoying people. ¡°Why did you pick up this trash?¡±

    ¡°Saints enlighten this boy who thinks it¡¯s good form to hurl insults at people before so much as greeting them,¡± I throw back. ¡°You don¡¯t even know me.¡±

    ¡°I know enough. Tome family, nobles in name only. Haven¡¯t made any substantial contributions to the kingdom in years and rely on minor achievements at the time of the kingdom¡¯s founding. Am I wrong?¡±

    ¡°Minor? We helped settle the damn kingdom. And I¡¯d like to see you make contributions with a greater house doing their best to strangle you. Just because we¡¯re not well-known doesn¡¯t mean we haven¡¯t done anything.¡±

    ¡°Are you talking about Luke Tome¡¯s thesis on non-affinity elementals?¡± He grins at my surprise. I¡¯m really terrible at hiding my emotions. ¡°The knowledge of elementals may have provided insight into a new land but the art of summoning has dwindled in power in the face of human innovation. Truly, it is a dying art and a method casters with poor skills must rely on rather than build their own strength.¡±

    Beside me, Alana winces. My anger must be showing now. It¡¯s one thing if you don¡¯t like me, it¡¯s another thing if you don¡¯t like my family, but to go so far as to insult summoning itself, something we¡¯ve dedicated generations to? Know-it-all bastard has taken it too far. And the rude goblin still didn¡¯t bother saying a damn greeting! ¡°Can¡¯t wait for you to wow me with your bloodline.¡±

    He puffs his chest out. ¡°I am a servant of House Pottoculli, a great vassal of the Rosefield family. The patriarch himself noticed my ability and sponsored me to the Grand Hall so that I may realize my potential.¡±

    I don¡¯t believe this. This guy has the nerve to insult my entire lineage and his dad polishes silver? ¡°Is this some kind of joke?¡± It¡¯s got to be. Picking on the new face at the table, haha.

    His sneer tells me otherwise. ¡°The servant of a dragon is better than a king of rats.¡±

    ¡°It sure didn¡¯t take long for the nobles to start measuring.¡±

    I look down the table. A redhead glares at us from the corner of her eye. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Titles don¡¯t matter here. You only get as far as your own ability can take you.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. True nobility is not something you can choose to acknowledge only when it suits you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah? What are you going to do, shiny? Throw some of your owner¡¯s gold at me? I can¡¯t be bought.¡± She snaps. Her eyes look like they would shoot fire and burn us to ashes if she could.

    I hold up my hands, hoping she understands I don¡¯t want any problems. I thought I was going to make friends but now everyone¡¯s picking a fight with me.

    My feelings are a little hurt.

    ¡°Ignore them.¡± Alana slaps the table. She doesn¡¯t glare like Marthe but her look is enough to make Abel turn away. ¡°Eat. We have more work to do today.¡±

    Sure. Not like conversating with this group is getting me anywhere. I grab the first bowl of what looks like a thick stew and take my first spoonful.

    It¡¯s¡­not bad. Mostly bland, with a few flavorful chunks of meat. Not something a noble would accept but I¡¯ve had much worse. With the way the building looks, I thought they might be using half-rotten ingredients and I¡¯d have to transform to eat it all but this is nothing. Kierra didn¡¯t exactly have much to work with in the forest and I¡¯ve had much worse eating amongst the villagers.

    I quickly become engrossed in the food, shoveling down spoonful after spoonful. I don¡¯t stop until it¡¯s all gone, sitting back with a satisfied sigh. A quick glance shows the table is looking at me. Even Marthe, shock replacing her disdain. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°¡­do you always eat so much?¡± Alana asks, looking pointedly at the four small bowls.

    ¡°Usually? I¡¯m quite active. You should consider eating more. With the way K¡ªTeacher worked us, you¡¯re going to need to keep up your energy.¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°That damnable elf.¡±

    ¡°Elf?¡± Across the table, one of the two who¡¯ve remained quiet the whole time perks up. Michael, I think. He¡¯s young, even for this place. Can¡¯t be older than fifteen. ¡°Did you just say elf?¡±

    ¡°Ah, you haven¡¯t heard? The Hall has a new Foundation teacher for initiates. A green elf named Kierra.¡±

    ¡°Wow!¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous.¡± I¡¯m really starting to hate Abel¡¯s voice. ¡°Elves are incredibly reclusive. A few of their traders may pass through on occasion but sightings are rare. One wouldn¡¯t just come to the Grand Hall to instruct humans of all things. It¡¯s more likely someone with elven blood or a hybrid. Goblinoid of some sort if she has green skin.¡±

    Shows how much you know, know-it-all. Kierra is a hundred percent elf. I¡¯d rub it in your face right now but it might be better to let this simmer for a while. And I¡¯d feel petty dragging my wife into the conversation just to prove him wrong. I¡¯m above that.

    ¡°That¡¯s still cool. She must have the best stories. It¡¯d be so great if we had her as our teacher too, aye brother?¡±

    His brother nods. Not a talkative one then.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too eager,¡± Alana says. ¡°Her teaching methods are¡­difficult.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, thought I was going to die for a minute there,¡± I throw in.

    ¡°What would you know about dying?¡± Marthe said. ¡°Shiny is ready to cry because the teacher was a little rough with her. Bet you¡¯re not used to pain protected by your big knights and bigger walls.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps she had a particularly life-threatening bruise,¡± Abel throws in.

    Now they¡¯re ganging up on me? Is it because I have an actual title? Alright then. We tried the friendly way. Now the Kierra way. ¡°You,¡± I say pointing to Abel. ¡°For someone who cares so much about nobility, you¡¯re an embarrassment to your lords. I wonder how they would feel if I tell them their proud servant is going around insulting other nobles while throwing around their name?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t!¡± he gasps, staring at me with wide eyes.

    This is like running home and telling your parents the mean kid is bullying you. What? Shameless? Who cares! It¡¯s worth it to see his troubled and annoyed expression. Didn¡¯t expect that, did you? Too bad I¡¯m too shameless to defend the Tome family¡¯s tattered reputation honorably.

    ¡°And you,¡± I say, pointing at the redhead. She bares her teeth at me. Seriously, are you an animal? I feel like my wife would like you. ¡°Do you see any knights or walls around me? No. So don¡¯t make up excuses. If you¡¯ve got a problem, we can handle it anytime.¡±

    ¡°Say that, sure. Have all your fancy spells from your private tutors.¡±

    Ha! If only you knew. ¡°No magic. Just these.¡± I raise my fists, the knuckles callused due to my wife¡¯s loving attention.

    She watches me for a long moment, gauging my sincerity. Then she gives me a savage grin. I haven¡¯t seen someone who so blatantly wishes me harm since Crowley Cain came at me with a bloody knife. Not even the assassin. ¡°You¡¯ll get yours, shiny.¡±

    ¡°One thing first. Why do you keep calling me shiny?¡± I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s supposed to be an insult but I don¡¯t get it so I¡¯m just confused rather than offended.

    ¡°Nobles have shiny jewels. Shiny clothes. Shiny skin.¡±

    So, you¡¯re basically calling me¡­clean? Guess anything can be a curse if you say it in the right tone. ¡°Got it. Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t run away, shiny.¡±

    ¡°When I kick your ass, you have to call me Lou. That shiny crap is annoying and annoyingly stupid.¡±

    She sneers before hopping up and stomping away. ¡°Progress,¡± I say with cheer.

    Alana shakes her head and goes back to her food.

    -

    The rest of the day passes smoothly. As the sun is beginning to set, I drag myself back to our house. I¡¯m glad we have such a nice place but the one disadvantage is that it¡¯s much farther away from the teaching buildings than the dorms. No gains without pains.

    Earl opens the door for me as I reach the highest step. ¡°Welcome back, milady!¡±

    Aw, look at him. During our stay in the Myriad Zone, we decided on the providing my new servants with uniforms. He¡¯s wearing it now, a long sleeved, bluish-purple shirt, praise Cosmo, with a high collar and a series of polished golden buttons, matched with dark pants. Clean and trimmed, he looks far more respectable now. He looks rather proud of his new position, back ramrod straight. Geneva has done good work with him.

    ¡°Are you adjusting well?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You can count on me! Geo is teaching me how to take care of the house. When I¡¯m ready, I will inherit the position of steward.¡±

    ¡°Then you have to work hard.¡± I reach out and ruffle his hair. The boy is clearly startled but he doesn¡¯t fight, surrendering to it with a slight flush of embarrassment. ¡°Make sure to take care of your sister.¡±

    ¡°Mm. She¡¯s working with Nomad to become security.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­rather reassuring. I have no doubts the little bandit wouldn¡¯t hesitate to tear apart anyone she deems a threat with her bare hands. Give her a few years and I¡¯ll have quite the little defender.

    As for Nomad, the man¡¯s lack of regard is so off-putting, that could work as a deterrent itself.

    ¡°What about Gajin?¡±

    ¡°He is very happy with his new role as a gardener. At the moment, he is in the process of procuring seeds.¡±

    I look over my shoulder at our, as the marquis put it, generous yard. Are all these grasses going to be replaced by poisonous flowers? ¡°Should be fun. Keep it up.¡± I step past him into the house. I follow my nose to the dining room. Kierra is already seated, Geneva standing at her shoulder. Another plate has been set for me. I wordlessly take my place and dig in.

    ¡°Long day?¡± Geneva asks with some amusement.

    I swallow before answering. ¡°From your smile, I take it you¡¯ve got all the details already.¡±

    ¡°Master certainly has some innovative ways of teaching.¡±

    ¡°Lou performed exceptionally, of course.¡± Damn it, when you sound so proud about it, it makes it hard to be annoyed with you.

    ¡°Yeah, I was a bit surprised. I mean, you work me hard but I outran a girl whose been training to become a knight since childhood. Felt good.¡±

    ¡°I expect nothing less from someone trained by me. Keep working hard, Lou. You¡¯ve set some rather¡­lofty goals for yourself.¡±

    You¡¯re talking about Aurelius, aren¡¯t you? Frickin¡¯ elf making fun of people. I¡¯ll show you one of these days.

    I stab at my food viciously, ignoring the smiles directed at me.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 27

    ¡°Are you ready for this?¡±

    Alana and I walk together to Kierra¡¯s torture ground. We¡¯ve gotten rather comfortable with each other. I heard somewhere that shared horror has a way of bringing people together.

    I laugh at her question. ¡°There¡¯s no being ready for her. Expectations only make it that much worse when she goes beyond them.¡± Trust me, I am speaking from experience.

    ¡°Mm. I certainly feel a fool for thinking my knight training prepared me for her¡­methods. Though I must say, she is rather proficient.¡± She demonstratively clenches her fist. ¡°Despite practically tearing my muscles in two, I still feel rather good. This is the effect of a great healer, huh. I can only imagine what it would feel like to be melded.¡±

    I pause, catching her arm. I feel like I¡¯ve heard that word before and it¡¯s making alarms go off in my head. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Melding? You¡¯ve never¡ªah, I suppose you wouldn¡¯t. Sometimes I forget that you aren¡¯t training to be a knight.¡±

    Thanks, I guess?

    ¡°Melding is the reason why physical affinities are so highly valued. It¡¯s a process of guiding the body to its best state. Then, if the melder is really good, they can cater to the person¡¯s specializations. For example, boosting a knight¡¯s power or making a messenger run faster. My instructor told me that a good melder can boost a fighter¡¯s power by three times. A great one can make a man beyond human.¡±

    Ha. Haha. She didn¡¯t. She wouldn¡¯t. ¡°This melding. How does it work?¡±

    ¡°Hm. The same way one normally gets stronger. Training. The melder guides one¡¯s efforts, not replaces them.¡± Her lips turn up into a smirk. ¡°Thinking about skipping foundation, weren¡¯t you? Every trainee does when they hear of it for the first time. Unfortunately, it¡¯s not a quick way to becoming the ultimate warrior. Besides, melders are incredibly rare. Only one in ten healers have the potential to become a melder and only one in a hundred of those actually master it. When you think about how rare greater affinities are¡­¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°Those people are secreted away by the kingdom as precious resources. All of the Royal Knights have been melded. The chance of finding a melder without joining a prestigious order is abysmal so don¡¯t even think about it.¡±

    Abysmal chances, huh. About say¡­the chances of meeting an elf locked away in a forest by her militaristic mother who happens to have a pure physical affinity?

    She wouldn¡¯t? Who am I kidding? This is exactly something she¡¯d do! I was wondering how I was progressing so fast.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I say, breaking into a jog. I need to have a talk with a certain elf.

    -

    ¡°Eighty-seven.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t pout.¡±

    I glare at her as I come back up. ¡°Eight-eight.¡± Despite my misgivings about her practices, that doesn¡¯t mean I am exempt from the lesson. Today, she¡¯s testing our strength. At the moment, it¡¯s push-ups.

    Kierra kneels down. ¡°I admit, I didn¡¯t say anything about the melding. I didn¡¯t want you getting squeamish about it. It¡¯s much harder to turn it away once you¡¯ve seen the results.¡±

    ¡°Eighty-nine.¡±

    ¡°¡­you aren¡¯t really mad, are you?¡±

    ¡°Ninety.¡± I pause. She leans down until our noses are almost touching. Staring into her slightly anxious eyes, it¡¯s impossible to be angry at her. ¡°I want an explanation later.¡± This isn¡¯t the best place to talk about it. Who knows who could be listening? In a place filled with experienced casters, spying is harder to detect.

    ¡°Mm. Then for now¡­¡±

    ¡°Ninety¡ªgeh!¡± I almost bite my tongue as I feel a heavy weight on my back.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she whispers in my ear as she leans over me. ¡°You haven¡¯t even reached a hundred yet.¡±

    ¡°Gonna¡­die¡­¡±

    ¡°My wife isn¡¯t so fragile.¡± One of her hands touches my cheek, the fingertips glowing green. As usual, energy feels my body but now I know that¡¯s not all it¡¯s doing. It¡¯s reaching inside of me, twisting, molding me into something different. Something¡­better.

    This is both insidious and amazing.

    I follow through on the push up, my creaking bones telling me that if I keep this up, they¡¯re divorcing me and taking my crying muscles with them. ¡°Ninety-two!¡±

    -

    After she finishes with me, Alana has to drag me to the Bronze Dorm¡¯s dining hall, dropping me off at the usual table. Then she goes off to grab my usual serving, each bowl filled to the brim with stew. Lucky us, there¡¯s a few pieces of bread left and three of them are on my tray. What a true friend.

    I dig into the food without a care for my image. My tablemates who have dined with me twice already are still surprised. Especially Abel. He looks downright disgusted. ¡°Animal. To think you have the audacity to call yourself a noble.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I don¡¯t even bother responding. Food is more important than idiots.

    ¡°Give her a break,¡± Alana interjects. ¡°That elf really went too far today.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯d you have to do?¡± Mike asks quickly. He and the rest of the table are in another group of initiates. They have the same mandatory classes as me but their schedule is different. For them, Foundation I is right after lunch and the unlucky bastards also got Kierra for a teacher. They get to sit with their stomachs clenched for an hour, listening to our horror stories while knowing they have to endure the same. I don¡¯t know which of us has it worse.

    ¡°Today seemed to be an evaluation of strength. The exercises were recognizable, thank the saints, but the extent¡­¡± She sighs. ¡°Our teacher has a grief against Lou though. She sat on her back while she did push-ups. I thought her veins were going to burst.¡±

    ¡°Amazing.¡± Thanks, kid. Feels good to have my efforts appreciated. Kierra just demands more and more.

    ¡°It¡¯s not amazing. That elf is abusing her authority. At this rate, Lou will end up seriously injured or worse.¡±

    Whoa, now. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re worried about me but that¡¯s a dangerous path. I finish drinking the dregs of current bowl of stew and tap her on the shoulder while grabbing another. ¡°Relax. I can take this much.¡± Really. I hurt so much I can¡¯t feel my aches anymore. ¡°Besides, the two of us have an¡­understanding.¡±

    ¡°What kind of understanding allows her to¡ª¡±

    Someone bumps into me, causing me to spill my stew. Right into Alana¡¯s lap who hastily jumps up.

    ¡°Damn!¡± I flounder for a napkin which I don¡¯t find. This isn¡¯t a restaurant. ¡°Watch yourself!¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Standing behind me is a mountain of a man. His voice tells me he¡¯s young but the heavily tanned skin and beard make him look older. He¡¯s dressed in full armor, the gray metal dull and spotted with dirt. Behind him are two others in similar dress. They look ready for a fight.

    ¡°You should stay out of my way, idiot.¡±

    ¡°Out of your way?¡± Come on, we¡¯re all the way on the right side of the room. What, were the three of you on your way to squat in the corner? Don¡¯t screw with me. ¡°You have to be dumb and drunk for us to get in your way. You knocked into me on purpose, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°And what if I did, pipsqueak?¡± he says, looming over me. My nose wrinkles as I take in the smell of his sweat and rancid breath. ¡°What are you going to do about it?¡±

    Hey, I might have to take shit from that bald bastard but do you think you¡¯re on the same level? All it¡¯ll take is one good hit to knock him on his ass. I¡¯ll go for the skinny one next¡ª

    A hand on my shoulder jolts me out of my violent visions. ¡°Don¡¯t fall for it, Lou.¡± Alana stares them down. ¡°They cannot harm you without incurring severe consequences which is why they want to goad you into accepting a duel.¡±

    ¡°Stay out of this!¡± the smelly ape shouts. ¡°This doesn¡¯t have anything to do with you.¡±

    I wonder who it does have to do with. After the first day, seeing how much attention they were getting, I decided it¡¯d be better to keep my elementals out of sight. Geneva follows me in the morning to assist in my meditation before returning home to maintain the house. Bell shadows me. Can you hear me, my lovely imp?

    [I am always ready to serve, Master Lou!]

    Got to love her work ethic. What is wrong with him?

    [Hm. Right now, the male is feeling both excited and fearful. The image of you is also connected with thoughts of severe violence and a large amount of gold. It would appear he is being offered a substantial amount of wealth to cause problems for you.]

    I immediately think of my want-to-be assassin. Is the same person causing trouble for me? I highly doubt two separate people would put a price on my head. I really don¡¯t have that many enemies.

    Though, this is good. We were willing to ignore them in favor of coming to the Grand Hall but it looks like the prey has followed us.

    [Shall I detain them to obtain the information of their owners?]

    Mm. No. We can¡¯t make such blatant moves here. I¡¯ll chase them off and then you tell Geneva to follow them. She can handle herself no matter how powerful their backing is and I prefer to have you around for my personal protection.

    [I won¡¯t fail you!]

    ¡°Are you ignoring me?¡±

    I look back at assassin number two. Doesn¡¯t seem as capable as my first attacker but this is an acolyte of the Grand Hall. Who knows what tricks he¡¯s capable of? I¡¯m still confident I can beat him but not confident in doing so in only my human skin.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Saint Executor.¡±

    Bell.

    [His name is Remus.]

    ¡°Uh huh. Well, Mr. Saint, I¡¯m going to leave now. You can and your friends can go back to your room and continue playing your little hero fantasy without involving me.¡±

    ¡°You really want to die, don¡¯t you?¡±

    [His room is on the second floor, number 12. The two beside him share the room and he is very unhappy with the small space.]

    It¡¯s almost unfair with her on my side. And it would really suck if he¡¯s trying to kill me for a little extra space to stretch his legs. Now, if they offered him a place like ours and to cover his tuition, that I can understand. ¡°Relax, I¡¯m doing this for you. As much as I love making friends, I care about your futures more. I mean, seeing that you¡¯re stuck in the Bronze Dorm and wasting your time messing with initiates, you can¡¯t have progressed too far with your studies. I wouldn¡¯t want to be another distraction. You don¡¯t have the brain capacity to spare.¡±

    ¡°You¡ªI could crush you with one hand!¡±

    [He¡¯s a foundation acolyte. His original goal was to become a spellsword, like most others. His water affinity is terrible but he has enough skill with the blade to be recognized by a lackluster group.]

    What group in your opinion isn¡¯t lackluster?

    [The Royal Knights are passable. Working together, they may provide a challenge for me and my mistress.]

    ¡°Great talking to you, hero. I¡¯ll be going now.¡±

    ¡°Hold it!¡±

    He grabs my arm as I try to move past him. Seeing the veins on his hand jump, I think this is supposed to be hurting me. Hah. He seems unnerved by my non-reaction, his grip easing. ¡°Are you going to make a scene? We wouldn¡¯t want the Hall to get involved. Pretty sure they frown on this sort of thing.¡±

    ¡°Cheh.¡± He lets me go. ¡°Remember this.¡±

    He stomps away, taking his friends with him. I shake my head as I notice the dining hall didn¡¯t pay us a lick of attention. Is this kind of thing commonplace? Company aside, I think it may be better to take my meals in a different dorm for a while. ¡°Look at that. More bark than bite.¡±

    ¡°Be careful of him.¡± Alana watches them until they leave the building, only then retaking her seat. ¡°I know the type. He won¡¯t let this go. In the meantime, I will accompany you if you need to go out and wait for me before moving to the next class.¡±

    ¡°How dashing~¡± You chivalrous knight. Trying to make me fall for you? Nothing makes my heart race like someone dependable.

    ¡°Though I want to know how you managed to get involved with such a character.¡±

    ¡°How should I know? It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve seen him.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re quite unlucky.¡±

    Haha, you¡¯re telling me. ¡°It all balances out in the end. Since that ape came to bother me, I might trip over an artifact on the way home.¡±

    ¡°Which is where?¡±

    I smile at her until she gives up the question. It¡¯s not that easy, though I have to admit, my first friend here is growing on me.

    As for the other four, I¡¯m rather disappointed. While Alana didn¡¯t hesitate to stand up with me, they did their best to ignore the entire situation; Abel out of disregard, the brothers out of fear I think, and Marthe out of anticipation. Compared to her, you¡¯re all of far too inferior quality, something I no longer have to waste my time with. I¡¯ll hang around until I can convince her to find an alternative.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 28

    Much later, I¡¯m stumbling up our walkway after another long day when a gust of wind sends my hair billowing. Spitting the strands out of my mouth, I glare up at Aurelius who slowly floats down to hover in front of me. ¡°Evening,¡± I say softly, trying to keep the hostility out of my tone. Knowing me, I probably fail.

    ¡°Lady Tome. I hope I didn¡¯t startle you by dropping by so suddenly.¡±

    ¡°Startle me? No. Always happy for your visits.¡± You know damn well you aren¡¯t welcome here.

    ¡°I heard you had a bit of trouble today.¡±

    ¡°Wow. Coming all the way here for a little disagreement between students. I¡¯m touched. Though are you sure it¡¯s fine? People might get a little jealous at your overflowing concern.¡±

    ¡°We take the safety of our initiates and acolytes very seriously. Simple disagreements can quickly escalate into something more¡­dangerous. I just wanted to remind you that violence of any kind is frowned on, even if you think you are the wronged party. Report any problems to a dorm caretaker and they will settle it.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯m not the type to settle my problems with a brawl.¡±

    ¡°No, summoners prefer having others carry their burdens. A thrall can cause plenty of damage if left to run amok. Keep a close eye on your elementals lest something happen to them.¡±

    Oh, I¡¯d love to see you try. ¡°They aren¡¯t wild dogs. Though I will keep them close. Pest deterrent.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good then.¡±

    We share a moment of shared disdain before he powers back into the sky. As he disappears, Geneva steps out of the shadows to stand by my side. ¡°Were you seen?¡±

    ¡°Please, my summoner. He is hardly capable. I sensed his intention and shrouded my being from his perceptions. He was rather frustrated at not being able to catch you in the act, so to speak.¡±

    ¡°He went personally? Doesn¡¯t he have anything better to do?¡±

    ¡°If I had to make a guess, it was probably to personally guarantee your embarrassment throughout the Hall. If he has spent any time with Master then I¡¯m sure he¡¯s come to the realization that raising himself above you in her eyes is impossible. Therefore, the next best thing is to lower her opinion of you.¡±

    What an amazingly bad idea. Kierra has seen me in far more pitiful states than a little embarrassment and she married me anyway. Heh. I might not be able to fight you directly just yet but maybe I can annoy you to death. ¡°Did you find out anything useful?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Your would-be attackers went into the Gold Dorm. Unfortunately, the most stringent security surrounding it are enchantments rather than people.¡± She shrugs lightly. ¡°I could have broken through of course but not without being noticed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. This is the greatest center of magic in the kingdom.¡± Wouldn¡¯t it be rather embarrassing if they allowed powerful creatures to just waltz in whenever they wanted?

    ¡°I did, however, get a face. The only name in his mind was ¡®money-grubbing weasel¡¯.¡±

    ¡°That can describe at least a third of all nobility. But if you see it again¡ª¡±

    ¡°I can identify them.¡±

    ¡°Never doubted you.¡± Giving into an instinct, I lean forward and steal a kiss before heading for the door. I can see her tail whipping in amusement from the corner of my eye. At the bottom of the stairs, I feel a tugging on my pants leg and look down to see Bell looking up at me imploringly.

    What the hell. You¡¯re a circle 5 virtue from Burning Earth. If you wanted you could bring this whole estate crashing down with a flick of your fingers and snap apart the kingdom¡¯s strongest warriors, yet she¡¯s acting like a puppy that¡¯s been ignored by its owner.

    ¡°Coo.¡±

    She only makes that sound to cover when she speaks to me. Obviously, there¡¯s no need for it in private. It¡¯s a ploy because she knows how cute I find it. And damn me if it doesn¡¯t work.

    I scoop her up and kiss her nose. ¡°And one for you too~¡±

    ¡°Do I get one as well?¡±

    Kierra is leaning in the doorway. Ah, she looks nervous. Good.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± I say passing by her while trying to keep my voice neutral. Let her sweat a little.

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    She catches up to me before I get far, gently grabbing my elbow to change my course. ¡°Not the dining room. I thought we¡¯d eat out on the balcony.¡±

    ¡°¡­sure.¡±

    She guides me into the bedroom, which for a noble estate is rather large. There¡¯s a greeting area for private meetings with the balcony attached. The balcony is attached. Last time I saw it, it was empty and only good for enjoying the breeze.

    Now, there is a long couch positioned to give the best view of our yard and the taller buildings of the market in the distance. A small table is set up in front, decorated with platters of snack foods. Beside it is a drinks cabinet with several familiar glass bottles and two crystal glasses. Several potted plants and tasteful vines twined on the banister add color and fill the air with a sweet scent.

    ¡°I thought I¡¯d go for something relaxing rather than a cold dining table,¡± she says as she guides me to the couch, sitting me right beside her. Geneva is apparently playing the role of server as she hands us each a glass and pours. I breathe in the heavy, almost pungent scent of mushrooms mixed with a whole lot of things I don¡¯t want to know the name of. ¡°You went to Howie.¡±

    ¡°I went to Maxine. It was meant to be a surprise.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re pulling out all the stops,¡± I say while snatching up two finger-sized sandwiches, gobbling one and handing the other to Bell. It¡¯s fun watching her eat. She nibbles on things like a squirrel. Probably something else done for me. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to butter me up, it¡¯s not working.¡±

    ¡°Really? Then¡­¡±

    I let out a wordless sound of disagreement as my glass is taken out of my hand and sat on the table alongside hers. ¡°How about this?¡±

    I barely take in her words before she roughly drags me toward her, kissing me. Normally, she likes to tease but she gets right to the point, forcing her tongue past my lips and claiming my mouth. I can¡¯t even pretend to be tough in the face of it, melting against her like snow under the warm sun.

    My face is flushed when she lets me go and is soon enveloped by softness as she pulls me down to lay on her chest. ¡°Okay¡­¡± I say between panting breaths. ¡°That worked.¡± Any anger lingering in me has been swiftly overcome by my rising lust.

    Maybe I really am that easy.

    I can feel it as she laughs. ¡°Good. Now we can have that conversation.¡±

    Boldly admitting to manipulating my emotions. Damn you for knowing me so well. ¡°You¡¯ve been melding me, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Not in the strictest sense. To elves, melding refers to the manipulation of the body. To be honest, it is a grotesque art that often causes more harm than good. A warrior gaining inflated muscles and great power by sacrificing speed and flexibility. Leaving people in constant pain for a few enhancements. What I do is use my magic to strengthen and empower what is already there. And perhaps¡­stimulate your body¡¯s potential.¡±

    Still sounds suspicious. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Why do you think elves are such powerful warriors? Unlike humans, the physical affinity is rather common amongst us and those who possess it are almost always given positions of leadership. The reason my unit and I were so famous was because I personally ensured they were the strongest. I was the best melder in the Dusk Province, though admittedly only about eighth on the continent. Those High Noon fanatics are talented.¡±

    Hm. I¡¯m sure I had some concerns but they¡¯re hard to remember right now. Kind of just sounds like a top-notch healing job. This is really comfortable¡­ ¡°Um, why are you bothering though? My elemental form is much stronger and far more durable. There¡¯s no need for the hellish training.¡±

    ¡°It may not be a need but it would definitely be useful. We¡¯ve already agreed it¡¯s best to stay in your human form as much as possible while you¡¯re here, which means you won¡¯t be able to rely on your stronger form. More interestingly, that ooze you turn into¡­I¡¯m not sure what it is. It¡¯s not affected by my magic which means it has no potential to grow organically, like plants and animals. However, your human form can. And, if you haven¡¯t noticed, your transformations are recorded from their last state.¡±

    ¡°Ah! I see where you¡¯re going with this! You don¡¯t just want to meld my human form. You want to try melding all of them to make them stronger.¡±

    Kierra gives me her best manic smile. ¡°Can you imagine the devastation an elven melded troll could wreck? Or better yet¡­¡± One of her hands trails up my neck and twists in my hair, yanking my head back so I¡¯m forced to look up into her eyes. They¡¯re that dark green they get when she¡¯s really excited. I shudder as she bends down to run her tongue along my neck.

    ¡°Imagine what one could do in bed.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what this is all about!?¡±

    ¡°Ehmm. I¡¯m getting wet just thinking about it.¡±

    ¡°¡­damn deviant.¡± I pull her down into a kiss and take my time exploring her mouth, lightly biting her lip before I pull away. ¡°Now I¡¯m thinking about it.¡±

    ¡°As expected of my beloved wife.¡±

    ¡°So, what do you want me to do? Do I¡ª¡±

    ¡°You just keep doing what you¡¯re doing. Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t noticed how hard you¡¯ve been working.¡± She nuzzles against my cheek while squeezing me tightly.

    I huff. Now that¡¯s she¡¯s given me such a good reason, I really can¡¯t say anything about it. ¡°We¡¯ll need to set a time and find a place to work on my troll form I suppose. And I need to find more forms.¡± My shapeshifting is the greatest card up my sleeve. If I really want to make the most of my potential, I should have one for every eventuality.

    ¡°The masters of the beast sanctuary are rather adept at capturing manabeasts. I shall see if I can put in a¡­personal order. Several teachers have made attempts to connect with me.¡±

    ¡°I bet they have.¡±

    She hands me back my glass. ¡°Ah. We¡¯ve got a good mood going. Don¡¯t ruin it with unnecessary thoughts. You¡¯ll handle him when the time comes, yes?¡±

    The saints as my witness. No, with Cosmo as my witness. ¡°Do you have anything to do on Restday?¡±

    ¡°No. Did you have something in mind?¡±

    ¡°I want to go to the library and the Summoning Hall. If we have time, the market as well.¡± I promised to build a certain someone a shrine and I want to do it properly. The Summoning Hall is the center for summoners at the Grand Hall. They should have their own summoning records. Perhaps I can find a clue about Cosmo in there and even if not, new summoning records to study is always a good thing.

    After that, I have to get some materials to support my research. Besides, I should visit Maxine. No use letting my only connection here stagnate. ¡°It¡¯ll definitely be easier moving around with a teacher with me.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Since you¡¯ve persisted so well, you can have use of me for the day.¡±

    Filled with anticipation, I lean against her and grab another tasty morsel, enjoying the view of the last rays of sun disappearing under the horizon.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 29

    Two hours, several glasses, and a full stomach later, Kierra grabs me by the hand and leads me to our bedroom. Geneva trails behind us. I don¡¯t like that smile she¡¯s wearing or the curl to her tail. That only happens when she¡¯s especially pleased.

    ¡°What are you up to?¡± I ask my grinning wife as she pulls me into our bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it¡¯s ¡®generous¡¯. One side if reserved for bathing, with a large sunken tub made of marble and lined with gleaming brass. Five knobs control temperature, drainage, and ¡®current¡¯, waves of water that massage the body while you soak. A wonder, that.

    The other side holds another wonder of the Grand Hall, something called a shower walled off by distorted glass. Very few things I¡¯ve seen here can top standing under the enchanted nozzles while a warm spray beats down on me, one step away from scalding.

    She guides me over to it, playfully stripping me. ¡°Our little talk earlier got me thinking,¡± she whispers as she pushes down my pants. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve¡­indulged.¡±

    Ah. I see where this is going. ¡°That¡¯s true. We were on the road and then in the hotel before being preoccupied with our lives here.¡± My poor elf has been holding it in for weeks. ¡°You must be desperate.¡±

    ¡°Yesss.¡± She removes my last stitch of clothing, unhooking the wide band of cloth over my chest and tossing it over her shoulder. She grabs me by the waist, pulling me against her. ¡°You drive me mad with want. I don¡¯t have to wait any longer, do I?¡±

    Her words are whispered against my lips as we share the same heated breaths. The tension crackling between us is volatile. One more spark will set it alight¡­

    ¡°Yeah, you do.¡± I pull out of her arms with a burst of strength and enter the shower, getting the temperature just right before I relax under the spray. My bliss is interrupted as she steps up behind me, a predator looming over its prey.

    ¡°It¡¯s not good to tease,¡± she says as she washes my back with a soft washcloth.

    My eyes slip shut as I enjoy the attention, heart thumping heavily. It amazes me sometimes how the smallest things make me fall for her more. Doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to let her off. The melding, the training, the teasing. I think it¡¯s time I push back.

    ¡°Can¡¯t be helped. What with all the harsh training my instructor puts me through every day, I need all my strength. No nighttime exercise for me.¡±

    When the washing stops, I take the cloth from her shocked fingers and finish up. My refusal has completely thrown her. Not surprising, as I never have before. Ever. Self-proclaimed hedonist and pleasure hound, I have no shame.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean it,¡± she says cautiously. ¡°You want it just as much as I do.¡±

    The saints, ah no. Shouldn¡¯t call on holy figures for something like this. Cosmo knows she¡¯s right. All she has to do is give me a look and I¡¯m aching with desire. I feel it even when she¡¯s borderline torturing me.

    However, I like seeing her in distress at the thought of not getting what she wants. I haven¡¯t seen that look since she first told me about her troll fetish. Oh, yes. I can hold back for this. Sweet, sweet revenge.

    ¡°I mean it,¡± I practically purr, handing her the rag while I finish rinsing off.

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    I ignore her as I step out. Geneva is waiting for me with a spread towel. Honestly, I don¡¯t know if I could function without her at this point. These succubi know how to insert themselves into someone¡¯s life.

    I let her dry me, taking it from her hands to handle my hair as I move to the bed. The mattress is three times the size of the ¡®king¡¯s bed¡¯ of the Golden Feathers, custom ordered by my wife down to the hand-carved wooden frame. Topped with thick blankets and over a dozen pillows, it¡¯s a little slice of heaven.

    I climb in with a pleased groan, loving the feel of the silk sheets on my skin. Coming home to this every night makes it all worth it.

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    Oh, and Kierra too, I guess.

    Who is giving me quite the look as she sits on the corner of the bed. It¡¯s a good mix of amusement, exasperation, and frustration. ¡°Your game isn¡¯t very fun.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m enjoying myself.¡±

    ¡°So, you want me to make do with the pet, is that it?¡± She looks over to Geneva who gives her a smile, tail whipping back and forth. ¡°You want to watch? We both know you won¡¯t be able to keep your hands to yourself for long.¡±

    ¡°The pet is going to keep her hands, tail, and any other body parts to herself.¡±

    Geneva meets my gaze, chuckles, and gives Kierra a helpless shrug. ¡°Sorry, Master. The orders of my summoner are absolute.¡±

    Oh, frustration has finally broken through the other emotions. That is really close to anger. I shiver despite being wrapped in blankets. There¡¯s no chance she¡¯ll hurt me but oooh, this is playing with fire. I know I shouldn¡¯t, but I can¡¯t help but poke the beast. ¡°Feel free to entertain yourself. You¡¯ve got two hands.¡±

    The mattress dips as she leans over me. ¡°You want to play games with me, dedia?¡± she hisses and things inside me twist with pleasure. ¡°We can play. Why don¡¯t you stay here with your two hands and I go find my satisfaction elsewhere? Does that amuse you too?¡±

    I freeze. She doesn¡¯t mean¡ª

    ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ll even bother getting dressed,¡± she continues. Her smile is all teeth as she watches my eyes widen and frown deepen. ¡°I¡¯ll just walk around until I come across the first decent lay that can smell a bitch in heat. With the way the men on this continent hover around me, I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll take too long. If I don¡¯t find anything before I reach the Sanctuary, maybe I go in with the beasts and find a new fetish.¡±

    Saints. No, there isn¡¯t a blessing strong enough to cure this woman of her depravity. Is she joking? She has to be but I can¡¯t tell. Should¡¯ve known she¡¯d beat me at my own game. I am sick to my stomach, pissed off, and turned on all at the same time. The things this woman does to me.

    ¡°Or maybe I skip the searching altogether? Maybe I go straight to Aurelius. You think he¡ª¡±

    ¡°NO!¡± I shout, scowling as I sit up. This just stopped being funny! My heart thunders in my ears, hands shaking with the urge to hit something. The thought of him laying his hands on her¡­

    ¡°Over my dead body,¡± I whisper, so serious the vow frightens me a little. I mean every word though. If he tries, I already know, things will get messy and I might do something I regret.

    Kierra licks her lips. Frickin¡¯ elf is enjoying this. Another one of her manipulations. That pisses me off even more but somehow it feeds into the lust, the slick heat between my thighs becoming harder to ignore. ¡°That¡¯s not funny.¡±

    ¡°Not funny?¡± She lets out a barking laugh before pushing me down by my shoulders and straddling my waist. ¡°Let me tell you what¡¯s not funny! Holding back until my patience is frayed because I want to be considerate and then being denied. Seeing your adorable attempt at being in charge and being expected to keep my hands to myself.¡±

    Her green eyes are practically smoldering as she takes quick, panting breaths. ¡°I tried abstinence. You don¡¯t want to see that.¡±

    ¡°You? What about me?¡± I roar, raging emotions taking control of my tongue. ¡°Every damn time we go anywhere, I have to deal with those horny bastards undressing you with their eyes. What do I have to do, put a tattoo over your face that says ¡®property of Lou¡¯? And you prancing around them, snickering at my frustration. If you weren¡¯t so damn lovable, you would have driven me crazy by now. You still might!¡± Everything¡¯s blurring together. Are we arguing or flirting right now?

    ¡°And what are you going to do? Hmm? Little girl that can¡¯t even fuck her own wife.¡±

    It¡¯s all a part of her plan. She knows my buttons and she¡¯s pushing them. I know it but I can¡¯t help but flinch as my heartbeat stops for a full second before coming back with such strength I fear it¡¯s going to break through my chest. My body is on fire and she hasn¡¯t even touched me. I can¡¯t hold back anymore. I don¡¯t want to.

    Little? I¡¯ll show you little.

    With a thought, my body regresses to my elemental form before changing into something new. My lean frame is replaced by heavy bulk and compact muscle. A short snout forms over my wide mouth, ivory tusks on either side contrasting sharply against my wine-red skin.

    I sit up, a large hand with thick, sausage fingers easily pushing her down and flipping her onto her stomach. It¡¯s easy as she becomes weak as a kitten when she gets a whiff of this form. She¡¯s already whining in need, hips grinding uselessly as I hold her down. ¡°Looouuu¡­¡±

    Oh, no. You¡¯re not getting off that easily. Working me into a state, playing me like a bard strumming his instrument. You¡¯ve bitten off a bit more than you bargained for this time, dedia.

    My free hand waves Geneva over. Words are beyond me with a throat more suited to growling but she knows what I want. She climbs onto the bed, pressing her lips against my wife¡¯s ear. ¡°You¡¯re going pay for that. She¡¯s going to fuck you until you lose your mind and every scrap of that strength you¡¯re so proud of. She won¡¯t stop until your voice breaks from screaming her name. I hope you¡¯re ready, Master.¡±

    It was meant to make her nervous. I can¡¯t hear anything but anticipation as she keens, pushing against the hand keeping her still in her desperation to feel me. She¡¯s ready alright. I can feel as much when I raise her hips, settling her on her knees while my hand moves to her hair to shove her face into the sheets.

    She worked me up on purpose to get what she wants. Good. She¡¯s going to get all of the potent mix of anger and lust heating my blood.

    It¡¯s going to be a long night.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 30

    The students are tense. I can¡¯t blame them. This has been a week of horrors but this is the last day before Restday and Saintsday. As such, an unspoken expectation hangs in the air.

    That this will be the worst day yet.

    Kierra stands in front of us, basking in it. Her helpers have multiplied, the two foundation students joined by six others who stand at attention behind her back. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve had a fun few days together.¡± She paces in front of the crowd, meeting the eyes of each student. ¡°I¡¯ve tested your speed, your endurance, your strength, and your flexibility. Now there¡¯s one final test. Prowess. I¡¯ve a good idea of your backgrounds. Rejoice. For most of you, your limit is simply practicing forms.¡±

    ¡°Why do we need to learn how to fight?¡± someone shouts. ¡°We¡¯re trying to be casters, not spellswords.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Strong casters don¡¯t need hand to hand combat. But answer me this.¡± She stops and raises her voice. ¡°Are any of you strong casters? Could you fight off a common thief with your magic right now? If you think you can, let¡¯s see it.¡±

    She gestures to group behind her. ¡°The six who¡¯ve agreed to help today are foundation acolytes, your seniors. Beginners but more than enough to handle a common assailant. If any of you can beat one of them, you¡¯re exempt from today¡¯s lesson. Any takers? Oh, and I won¡¯t heal you if you lose. A gamble has to have some risks, after all.¡±

    There¡¯s a general mumbling through the initiates. I see a few disgruntled people who look like they think they could win but hold back. After all, she said she wasn¡¯t going to heal them if they lose. No one¡¯s willing to risk the pain of broken bones, huh?

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    Why am I not surprised? Alana steps forward, face stoic as she stares down her possible opponents. ¡°I accept the challenge.¡±

    ¡°Oh, ho. Anyone want to take this up?¡± The fighters have a quick discussion before a wiry boy steps forward. ¡°Alana, I¡¯ll give you the choice. Barehand or blade?¡±

    ¡°Blade,¡± she says immediately.

    I grab her by the arm, leaning in to whisper, ¡°Hey, are you sure about this? They look like they can fight and if I know our teacher, she isn¡¯t the type to see to someone¡¯s safety.¡± What can I say? I don¡¯t want to see her hurt.

    ¡°Mm. Relax.¡± Her smile is confident. Dare I say cocky? Coming from the stoic girl, it is extra potent in charm. ¡°A fight is the one thing I¡¯m not afraid of.¡± She gives me a friendly slap to the shoulder before walking forward.

    Wow. I feel like the maiden who gets left behind while the hero goes off to slay a dragon. If this were me before marriage or if I could allow myself to be a bit more dramatic, I¡¯d swoon. Too bad her opponent is a boy around my age in flimsy looking armor. She¡¯s still awesome but the situation lacks gravitas.

    Nevertheless, I¡¯m excited as Alana borrows a sword from one of the other acolytes, giving it a few practice swings before nodding in approval. Kierra gives them space, waving for everyone to step back. We form a loose circle; the initiates on one side, the foundation acolytes on the other, and Kierra between the two fighters.

    ¡°The rules. There are none.¡± She grins. ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind of nonsense these knight orders and chivalrous warriors might have instilled in you but battles have no rules. Only winners and losers. If you go down, you lose. Try not to kill each other. Alright? Get ready.¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    None one is phased by my wife¡¯s antics by now. The two fighters don¡¯t even flinch, readying themselves for the match.

    I know next to nothing about swordsmanship but Alana¡¯s stance seems strange. She is slightly turned to the side with her sword pointed away from her, the hilt at her waist with the blade tilted upwards. Her free hand hovers over the blade halfway down its length. One foot is pressed forward and she leans into it, angling her body toward her opponent.

    The boy has a much more recognizable look, standing firmly with his sword held in front of him with both hands. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to point the pointy end at the enemy,¡± he jokes, getting a light laugh from his friends.

    ¡°You should be more concerned with yourself,¡± comes her calm reply.

    ¡°Tch. Don¡¯t blame me if you get hurt.¡±

    Silence falls over the field as the moment of engagement draws near. Kierra lets the tension drag out, confirming their resolves by their steady eyes before she steps back and shouts ¡°Begin!¡±

    If I didn¡¯t train with someone who can move at the speed of shadows when she puts her mind to it, I don¡¯t know if I could follow Alana¡¯s charge. In a burst of speed, she eats up the distance between them, moving so low to the ground I¡¯m amazed she doesn¡¯t fall over.

    Her opponent proves himself worthy of his position at the Grand Hall as he tracks her. His body stiffens as he prepares to counter. As she nears striking range, raising her body to prepare for an attack, he changes his grip and prepares for a horizontal swing.

    The moment before they would have clashed, the field is lit by a brilliant flash of light.

    The crowd lets out a collective exclamation as we¡¯re blinded. My eyes snap shut, tears welling in the corners as colorful circles dance behind my eyelids.

    It takes several moments before I risk opening them again, letting in the world little by little. My jaw drops when I take in the scene before me.

    Alana is standing tall with her sword pointed at the ground, a small smile on her lips. A trace of blood clings to the tip. Her opponent is on his knees, sword lying in the grass beside him, features contorted in pain. His hands are bloody where they are pressed against his abdomen. Knew that armor looked shoddy. Or maybe Alana is just that good?

    ¡°Oh, that wasn¡¯t bad at all.¡± Kierra walks over to the acolyte and lays a hand on his head. ¡°Your stance puts your sword behind you so the reflected light doesn¡¯t blind you. The flash either disorientates your opponent or forces them to shut their eyes, either way creating an opening. You¡¯ve got some potential.¡±

    She removes her hand and he is fully healed. Alana puts out a hand and helps him up. Seeing him back on his feet and rosy with embarrassment, a few of the initiates let out subdued cheers. I join them, rather proud. Alana is the real deal, chivalry and all. I would have left him in the dirt, no doubt about it. I¡¯ve raised my opinion of you.

    Apparently, so have the acolytes as they step forward to offer congratulations. My friend looks right at home amongst the future knights.

    Kierra claps, gaining everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°A good match. As agreed, Alana can rest for the rest of the class. Is there anyone else who wants to try their luck?¡±

    A somber mood settles over the class. While it was brief, Alana showed speed and strength I know most of these initiates can¡¯t compare to. For those who can, the thought of getting their gut opened and not getting healed must be keeping their mouths shut.

    I could do it. For one, I¡¯d be fighting bare-handed. I¡¯m willing to bet, being future knights and all, they aren¡¯t as accomplished in brawling. Besides that, I¡¯d have no problem keeping up with Kierra¡¯s speed. Most importantly, I¡¯d play dirty. These baby knights wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.

    But I know better than to step forward. My wife has been shooting me discreet looks this entire time. She has a plan for me.

    ¡°My helpers are going to break you into groups and supervise you. I expect you to listen to them like I¡¯m giving the orders. Otherwise, I can have you do something else I doubt you¡¯ll enjoy. Lou.¡±

    I sigh as she waves me over. Here we go.

    I jog over to her while the acolytes organize the rest of the class behind me. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll be getting special treatment again, Teacher?¡±

    ¡°Well, you know you¡¯re my favorite.¡± She cracks her knuckles and starts stretching. ¡°Come at me whenever you¡¯re ready.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­I have to fight you?¡±

    ¡°These baby knights are hardly enough of a challenge.¡±

    Heh. That¡¯s exactly what I called them. ¡°And the chances you¡¯ll go easy on me are¡­¡±

    ¡°Zero. But don¡¯t worry. You, I¡¯m going to heal.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 31

    She crooks her finger and smiles. Sigh. No point in stalling. Really, there¡¯s nothing to be wary about. By now, I¡¯m an expert at getting my ass kicked by her.

    Hmm. I wonder what that says about our relationship?

    Forget it. Not like we had a conventional partnership from the start.

    ¡°If you¡¯re not going to come to me¡ª¡±

    Ah, thinking too long. I quickly bring up my guard as she rushes me. I deflect her first two strikes with open palms, dodging the third before stepping back to put some space between us.

    Kierra allows it, circling me. I turn my body to keep her in front of me without moving, eyes flicking to the ground quickly to make sure she¡¯s not trying to lure me into a trap. She¡¯s done it before.

    ¡°Much better. I can almost forget that terrible reaction at the hotel,¡± she teases.

    I wince. Can¡¯t she let that go? It was my first assassin, geez. ¡°Are we going to chat or fight?¡±

    ¡°How bold. Just giving you the chance to get ready. There won¡¯t be any breaks once we start.¡±

    ¡°Great. That¡¯s what gets me out of bed.¡± My sarcasm is so thick I can taste it.

    It¡¯s bitter.

    She charges forward. Despite the monstrous strength she can bring to bear, she prefers a fighting style that relies on speed and flexibility. Getting in close and overwhelming her opponent with a rain of blows, each aimed at a weak point. I can¡¯t allow a single one to land or I¡¯ll go down immediately from the follow-up. Too bad she won¡¯t give me the chance to breathe.

    If I step back, she steps forward. My arms hurt from blocking her blows as I have to give up on only deflecting. The short jabs I throw to try and break her rhythm during her manufactured openings are useless as she dodges them with such tiny movements I have to wonder if my aim is off and her counterattacks are brutal.

    I slip during one of our exchanges and take a blow to the stomach. I gasp as the air is knocked out of me. She follows up with a combination; one to the throat, one to the nose, and a third hit with some power behind it to the chin.

    I stumble backwards, eyes watering and struggling to breathe. Blood trickles through the fingers of the hand holding my nose.

    She moves forward slowly, showing she¡¯s stopped her assault and I can relax. A hand cups my cheek and her spell rushes through me, easing my injuries. I blink away my tears as she puts some distance between us. ¡°Ow.¡±

    ¡°Again.¡±

    I can¡¯t think of doing anything more than defending. She smacked that nonsense out of me day one. You don¡¯t go head-to-head with someone who clearly outmatches you. I have to be patient, endure the blows, force her to make a mistake. Sweat soaks my back and my breathing is labored as I focus on keeping up my defense. Dammit, this is hard. Hold on, hold on.

    My chance comes when she goes for a low kick. I widen my stance, pushing out her already unstable leg, and go for the throw.

    If we were really fighting, there are a dozen reasons this wouldn¡¯t work. She could break my hold on her. Hit me before I had a chance to blink. Simply refuse to move as I try to throw her. However, I wouldn¡¯t learn anything in that case so she pretends to be an ordinary fighter and graciously allows me to throw her to the ground, smiling the whole time.

    I straddle her waist as she raises her hands to guard her soft face and throat. I push one of them down and lock her in a submission. ¡°How¡¯s¡­that?¡± I ask through my harsh breaths.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± she muses. ¡°Tuck your head in tighter, wouldn¡¯t want me getting any easy shots. Yes, good. Except¡ª¡±

    I yelp as she rolls us over but keep my hold. ¡°I¡¯ve told you about locking the legs so they don¡¯t have leverage to roll. Now look.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­still got you.¡±

    ¡°That you do. Love a good struggle snuggle.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Her answer is to force her arms around me. Dread twists my gut and I try to tighten my grip. All the good that does me.

    ¡°You struggle,¡± she whispers with obvious pleasure as she lifts me up as high as she can while on her knees, arms slowly constricting until my ribs start to scream. Then she slams me down with all her strength. ¡°I snuggle.¡±

    Trying to make it sound like something cute instead of a brutal attack. The second time I manage to hold on but my arms slacken after the third. By the sixth, I¡¯m sprawled on my back groaning in pain, vision swimming after one too many impacts to the head.

    ¡°Come on, Lou.¡± She squeezes me tighter even though I don¡¯t have the strength to resist. At this rate, she¡¯s going to squeeze everything right out of me. Great, now I¡¯m feeling nauseous on top of the rest of my problems. ¡°What happened to all your energy from before? After your¡­performance, I expected a bit more, hmm, stamina.¡±

    Saints teach her the virtue of forgiveness, do you let nothing go? I admit, things got a little out of hand that night. Using Geneva to give me limitless stamina to match her physical endurance led to¡­well. But it¡¯s not like it stopped her! Once again, I was reminded how much of a monster this elf is. It¡¯s got nothing to do with magic or affinities. She¡¯s just insatiable.

    Another wave of mana and then she gets off me. Ugh. Honestly, if it were anyone else, I would have already stormed off. Still might have if she weren¡¯t so clearly enjoying herself; eyes bright as she bounces on her toes. The sight heals me just as much as her magic, I think. Without it, I might not be able to scrape together my motivation and slowly push to my feet. She waits until I raise my guard and give her a confirming nod.

    ¡°Aga¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡±

    I relax as Alana comes marching towards us. Wow. I¡¯ve heard of the expression seething with rage but this is my first time seeing it. Her face is so flushed, she looks like she¡¯s burning from the inside and the knuckles of her clenched fists are white.

    She levels an accusing finger at Kierra. ¡°What kind of instructor are you? This can¡¯t even be called training anymore. You¡¯re just trying to break her.¡±

    ¡°Hoh?¡± A smirk turns up the ends of Kierra¡¯s mouth as she places her hands on her hips. ¡°Does she look broken to you? I have a much better understanding of what she can take than you do so just go sit down quietly.¡±

    ¡°Alana,¡± I throw in, getting her attention. ¡°Really, it¡¯s fine. I told you, the two of us have an understanding.¡±

    ¡°No, Lou. Just because she is a teacher here doesn¡¯t mean she gets to do what she wants. I¡¯ve ignored her unusual methods but singling a student out is unprofessional and not tolerable. She should be reported!¡±

    By now, we¡¯ve got the attention of the entire class. I bury my face in my hands. On the one hand, this is troublesome. On the other hand, I can¡¯t be mad. My friend is ready to go up against someone who could crush her with one hand, her little finger even, to stick up for me. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

    But she is seriously misunderstanding the situation. Sigh. How do I stop this?

    ¡°You¡¯re right. I have been singling Lou out and pushing her harder than the rest of you. However, you¡¯re confused about my motives. It¡¯s not because I dislike her. In fact, it¡¯s the exact opposite.¡±

    My hands are suddenly pulled away from my face and my chin tilted up. I have a single moment to see Kierra¡¯s devious smile before she leans down, bringing our lips together.

    Several exclamations erupt behind me. I can feel them. The stares burning into my back and one particularly strong stare coming from the side. Ah, they¡¯re all watching. This is uncomfortable in so many ways.

    Kierra stops the kiss. I hide my face in her chest, peeking around from the corners of my eyes. Heh. It¡¯s a little funny seeing the way their eyes are all about to pop out of their heads but the annoyances of later are stopping me from enjoying the moment. When this gets out, it¡¯s going to be like back home but ten times worse.

    ¡°You see, Lou isn¡¯t being trained by the Grand Hall¡¯s standards or even human ones. She¡¯s being trained by my standards. As my wife, she¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re MARRIED!?¡±

    That sets off a new barrage of exclamations. Kierra chuckles. ¡°Yes, we¡¯re married. As I was saying, as my wife, she is far more capable than any of you know. What I¡¯m doing may seem harsh but I would never do any lasting damage. I love her.¡±

    She punctuates that sentence by nuzzling the top of my head and humming. I look at Alana, who looks lost. ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± I shout, jolting her out of her thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s definitely as bad as it looks but I¡¯m going to be paid back in full, so don¡¯t worry.¡± Heh. Might actually be the one paying back a debt right now.

    ¡°My Lou is such a spoiled girl.¡±

    ¡°Spoiled? I earn everything I get in blood, sweat, and tears. Literally.¡± And a few other bodily fluids but that¡¯s not something I¡¯ll say in front of our current audience.

    ¡°¡­um. Well, I¡¯m¡­going to sit down. Sorry for¡­intruding.¡±

    ¡°Hold on.¡± Kierra lets me go and walks over to Alana, whose anger has deflated, replaced by embarrassment. ¡°Speaking up like that was really brave of you. Don¡¯t feel ashamed about it. It was impressive. I¡¯m glad Lou has a friend like you.¡±

    She reaches out and ruffles her hair. The future knight becomes bashful though I can still detect a hint of confusion. Someone else weak to a compliment, I see.

    Kierra lets her go but then scowls at the rest of the initiates. ¡°Who told any of you to stop? If this is too boring, I can have the dogs brought back out¡ª¡±

    She doesn¡¯t get to finish before the students are hurrying to continue their exercises, though I¡¯m not fooled. They may look absorbed but they¡¯re watching the two us. I have a feeling that a lot more of my peers are going to be interested in me now, especially the nobles. Ah, I was trying to avoid all this. What a pain.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 32

    ¡°It hurts¡­everything hurts¡­¡±

    I groan out my complaints as I lean heavily on Alana. Stupid. This is what I get for thinking it¡¯s a good idea to try and poke fun at Kierra. Her payback and her desire to meld me led to an especially brutal day. Alana is practically dragging me to the Bronze Dorm as my muscles refuse to carry me.

    Things are different this time. The noisy room quiets down as we enter, several eyes going to me. Guess that means word has spread. Saints, gossip is terrifying.

    Alana ignores the attention, dropping me off at the table before going to get our food. Once the tray is in front of me, I get a burst of energy and start devouring the food with gusto. My image as a noble is completely tarnished by now, no doubt.

    Halfway through the food, I notice the stares. A quick glance around the table shows they¡¯re all watching me. Even Marthe, who tries her best to pretend we don¡¯t exist. Sigh. Whelp, no avoiding it. Swallowing my current mouthful, I turn to Alana and wave. ¡°Go on. I know you want to ask.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re married to an elf.¡±

    ¡°Not technically a question but yes.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Michael asks excitedly. His brother has to pull him back down when the boy almost comes across the table, eyes shining. ¡°When did you meet? Did you go to the elven continent?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± I haven¡¯t admitted going there yet because it keeps Marquis Guiness off my back without outright telling him no. Can¡¯t slip up now to impress a boy. ¡°As for when, about a year now.¡±

    ¡°What does someone like that see in you?¡± Marthe asks viciously. Sometimes I forget she¡¯s an initiate like us. Can¡¯t see her sitting obediently in their classrooms and jotting down notes. So, she¡¯s been exposed to my wife¡¯s tutelage as well. And from the sound of it, it sounds like she respects her.

    ¡°That¡¯s no tone to take with Lady Tome,¡± Abel snaps. ¡°Show some respect.¡±

    Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did the guy who has insulted me every day since we¡¯ve met just defend me? And did he just call me Lady Tome?

    Saints, nobles are so predictable. They could piss on someone one day but at the first sign of possible benefits, they will claim to be the same person¡¯s best friend.

    Alana gives him a withering look, also unimpressed with his turnaround. At least he has the shame to avoid her gaze. ¡°I would like to know how the two of you met. It seems so¡­unlikely.¡±

    ¡°Well, the circumstances were very extraordinary. I was due to come to the Grand Hall last spring. Unfortunately, there was an incident on the road. Some magic went awry and the next thing I know, I¡¯m in the Enchanted Forest of all places.¡±

    ¡°The Enchanted Forest. A long strip of land connecting the human and elven continents. Heavily forested and filled with manabeasts. To this day, it remains uncharted as there are too many dangers and no survey team has managed to return after penetrating too deep into the trees.¡±

    Abel, never missing an opportunity to show off his knowledge. ¡°Yeah. Anyway, I met Kierra while in there. She helped me survive and find my way back. While there, one thing led to another and, tada, marriage.¡±

    A chorus of complaints rises from the table. ¡°You didn¡¯t say anything,¡± Alana gripes, poking me in the side. I squirm away from her but am too tired to go far. ¡°How did the two of you, erm, court one another? You¡¯re¡­so different.¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Ehhh. That¡¯s kind of a long story.¡± That I can¡¯t tell you. ¡°You¡¯ve seen how she is. On one hand, she¡¯s a violent battle maniac who loves a challenge. On the other, she¡¯s kind and nurturing, especially to the weak. I kind of hit all her points. As for me¡­¡±

    I smile. I¡¯m making a perverted expression right now, aren¡¯t I? ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t fall for her? She¡¯s gorgeous.¡± And a lot of other things but I don¡¯t want to get into it. There are other people listening in right now and I don¡¯t want to indulge their curiosity, nosy bastards.

    ¡°But why would the two of you¡­I mean, you¡¯re married but you can¡¯t, um, produce any heirs.¡±

    I look up at her slightly pink cheeks with interest. ¡°Alana, you¡¯re kind of a pervert aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°What? No.¡±

    Heh. She¡¯s also cute when she¡¯s flustered. I want to tease her some more¡­hmm. Who¡¯s the real pervert here? Spent too long with that elf of mine. ¡°You¡¯re thinking about it, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be shy. I can give you the details¡ª¡±

    ¡°Um!¡±

    I look over at Michael¡¯s older brother. Was his name Gabriel? Wow. This the first time I¡¯ve heard him talk in the week I¡¯ve known him.

    He points down at his brother, biting his lip nervously. ¡°Too young.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not!¡± Mike protests immediately, looking distinctly annoyed.

    ¡°Fourteen.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a kid, brother.¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s right.¡± I raise a hand in apology. Can¡¯t go against the wishes of a guardian. That¡¯s just rude. ¡°My apologies. If you want to know, you¡¯ll have to ask me privately.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know!¡± she huffs. ¡°Though it would have been nice if you¡¯d told me about the two of before I shouted at her. I felt like a fool.¡±

    ¡°But you were so cool, Dame Alana~¡± I add in a dreamy sigh for effect.

    Laughing as she pushes me aside, I notice a hush coming over the room. Doesn¡¯t take long to find the disturbance. Making his way across the room is a younger man that doesn¡¯t fit the surroundings at all. Dressed in fine clothes and exuding pride, a noble is heading for our table.

    He¡¯s rather calm to be walking amongst people who clearly dislike him. Striding past the unruly masses wearing an easy smile, he looks like he doesn¡¯t have a care in the world. Saints, his skin is so shiny. He can¡¯t be an initiate looking that well-groomed.

    Abel jumps up as he reaches the table, bowing his head. ¡°Abel greets the young master.¡±

    So, this is one of his owners, eh? Got to give him credit, all his talk about respecting nobility isn¡¯t garbage. I can tell from the straightness of his spine.

    ¡°No need for the stiff formalities. Sit down.¡± Just said there¡¯s no need for formalities but you go right ahead and order him. Like a faithful hound, Abel follows it immediately too. Now this young master is focused on me. ¡°Lady Tome. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Peter Pottoculli, third son of Earl Pottoculli. A pleasure.¡±

    ¡°Likewise.¡± I reach out a hand to grab the one he extends. To my horror, rather than a handshake, he turns it around and kisses the back. Ew. I feel like a worm just wiggled across my skin but I have to hold back.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what are you doing here?¡± Don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s to visit Abel. You haven¡¯t even looked at him again.

    ¡°I wish to extend an invitation to you.¡± Reaching into a pocket, he extends a golden envelope to me. ¡°Tomorrow afternoon, a few of the acolytes are hosting a small soiree for the new initiates. A meet and greet if you would.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see.¡± I don¡¯t want to take it but right before I¡¯m going to refuse, a thought hits me. Geneva knows the face of the one who is conspiring against me. They¡¯re in the Gold Dorm. This may be a good chance to root them out. ¡°Sure.¡± I take the envelope, putting it in my lap.

    ¡°I look forward to your attendance.¡± He gives me another bow before walking away. Abel doesn¡¯t get a second glance. That devotion may get you an easy life if you¡¯re lucky but he¡¯ll never return that devotion, poor man.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for the type,¡± Alana says, looking at the envelope. Dare I say I detect a little disappointment in her voice?

    ¡°Parties are a pain in the ass. I¡¯m not looking forward to it one bit but these things serve a purpose. It¡¯d be far more troublesome to refuse.¡± And no, I¡¯m not afraid of letting you hear me say that Abel so quit glaring at me like I¡¯m insulting the saints. ¡°I¡¯ll endure for an hour or so before going home and getting drunk on my couch with my wife. Now that¡¯s what I call relaxing.¡±

    My friend smiles softly and shakes her head. ¡°Still can¡¯t get used to that.¡±

    ¡°You want some details after all? We¡ª¡±

    ¡°I said I don¡¯t want to know!¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 33

    Surprisingly, the library isn¡¯t beside the Center Hall, the core of the Grand Hall where all magic classes are held and research is conducted. I thought it was strange until Kierra and I arrive in front of it.

    This place wouldn¡¯t fit next to it. When I think of libraries, well, I¡¯ve never been to one. They¡¯re fairly rare as books are precious treasures. The closest thing to it I can imagine is the study in the Tome family¡¯s estate in Summer Spire. A building filled with many more bookcases and maybe a few tables for people to read them.

    Yeah¡­no.

    Rising up as high as a small palace is the main building made of smooth, white stone, the top covered by an amazing stained-glass depicting legendary events I don¡¯t have the knowledge to recognize. Surrounding it are four small spires, made of the same white stone, one for each corner. They all have two smaller spires to either side.

    At the top of each spire are several gems that look suspiciously like the different affinity stones. Which I¡¯m having trouble believing because if they are, at that size, they¡¯d be worth more than a fortune. Nope, just very fancy decorations.

    ¡°Incredible. Those spires are giant artifacts,¡± Geneva says, dashing my denial. She asked to tag along as she¡¯s also interested in a center of knowledge. I agreed, thinking the more my teacher knows, the better it benefits me.

    ¡°Can you tell what they do?¡± Kierra asks curiously.

    ¡°The inscriptions on the stones are quite fine. Hm, interesting. I didn¡¯t know humanity had found so many words of power. It is a defense, using the stones¡¯ natural ability to collect the different types of mana in the air to construct a barrier. Even more amazingly, the spires are designed to link together and share power, allowing the enchantment to run longer. When activated, I believe it can hold against all I could throw against it.¡±

    ¡°That is amazing,¡± I murmur.

    ¡°It is a good toy but it is far too inflexible. That shield is the only function and the enchantment is quite fragile. If someone were to sabotage even one of the spires, the entire thing operates at a fraction of its power and becomes practically useless. If two are taken down, I don¡¯t think it¡¯d be able to operate. Reminds me of the ancient artifacts sometimes found on Burning Earth.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re saying succubi are enchanters!?¡±

    The look she gives me is pity mixed with amusement. ¡°Lou, mana works the same no matter the plane. Spellcrafting has a good dose of intention as well as logic involved so creatures can use their own language to work them but mana speaks one language, the words of power. Of course we are artificers. Every suitably evolved race is.¡±

    My thoughts race. This is¡­incredible. Enchanting is a relatively new field. New discoveries are slow as even the tiniest detail off will fail to produce a result. Because of the that and summoning¡¯s overall low evaluation amongst the magical community, I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s thought of asking an elemental for artificing help.

    This could be a monumental discovery!

    Ah, calm down for a moment. As much as progressing my field excites me, revealing this information won¡¯t do me any good right now. This is another ace up my sleeve. ¡°Does that mean you could put up a defensive enchantment around our house?¡±

    Geneva smiles. ¡°I could. However, without the stones to gather and store the appropriate mana, it would have to be powered by an individual, which would make it quite redundant.¡±

    ¡°Getting our hands on those stones will be difficult.¡± They don¡¯t exactly grow on trees. Most likely the royal family has a restriction on their trade as they are essential for the defense of the kingdom. Even with our connection to the Guiness Company, convincing the merchants to trade us a simple stone of the four basic elements might take more than our ample funds.

    ¡°Oh? Are the stones so rare on this plane? Then you simply need to open a rift to another plane where they are abundant.¡±

    Her words shock me so bad I trip. Thankfully, Kierra catches me. Frickin¡¯ all-powerful elemental. If you keep throwing out these golden nuggets of information, you¡¯re going to give me a heart attack.

    That is an amazing idea. If I could summon an elemental and make a deal, we could agree to a time of summoning in which they could bring the stones over with them. Why has no one thought of this? Once again, summoning has proved itself to be the best. ¡°You¡¯re amazing and I adore you.¡±

    Geneva gives me a big smile, tail waving happily. ¡°I can almost taste your approval, my summoner.¡±

    Shamelessly asking for a piece of me. It¡¯s fine. She¡¯s earned it. ¡°How about this? One bite when we get home and a whole finger for every contract we can successfully negotiate.¡±

    Her tail is whipping frantically. ¡°I already have several ideas of those we may be able to contact.¡±

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    ¡°I would like it if there were a few books on the body¡¯s structure,¡± Kierra adds off-handedly. ¡°My magic can help me gain an understanding of a creature¡¯s form and I make judgments from there. It would be better if there were studies to help me understand that knowledge better.¡±

    Our little group is filled with excitement as walk through the massive arch of the front door.

    My first view of the library is¡­underwhelming. There are the many bookcases I imagined, all lined up neatly along the far-left wall, but the majority of the floor is dominated by what looks like a study space, a dozen tables in two columns with several chairs for groups. I can see several acolytes and even a few initiates sitting at them, books piled up beside them.

    To the far right is a younger man standing behind a desk, checking books before stacking them on different trays. That completely ordinary sight is made amazing by the creatures circling him.

    I¡¯ve never seen one before but I recognize their appearance; pure white balls with a single golden eye and ethereal blue wings that leave a trail of light when they fly. They¡¯re Snow Wisps from the Mirage Forest plane.

    When he touches one of the stacks on the trays, a wisp swoops in. Flapping their wings, the tray is lifted into the air and they carry it off into the library.

    This is my first time meeting a summoner outside of my family. Hmph, Grimoires don¡¯t count. A strange warmth fills my chest. How to describe it? It¡¯s like being in a crowd of strangers and suddenly seeing an old acquaintance.

    He looks up from his books as we stop in front of the desk. His eyes first land on Kierra, unsurprisingly, then goes to Geneva and finally to Bell who is perched on my shoulders. He gives me a warm smile.

    Fellow comrade recognized.

    ¡°Let me guess.¡± He leans on the desk and points at me. ¡°Initiate?¡±

    ¡°How could you tell?¡±

    ¡°Nothing special. This is just about the time the initiates come. Most of the senior students stay away for the first two weeks of the spring semester to avoid the mess. So, I¡¯m guessing you need to know the basics?¡±

    ¡°If you would.¡±

    ¡°Simple, really. Everything on the first floor is fair game but it doesn¡¯t leave the library. You need a special permit for that. You also need a special permit to reach the higher floors, though it can be waived up to the third floor if you have a teacher escorting you. No food or drinks allowed. You break it, you buy it. Simple, right?¡±

    ¡°Very simple.¡±

    ¡°If you want my advice, you shouldn¡¯t bother. The books here won¡¯t help much for initiate classes. Those you see here are trying to get an idea on what they want to specialize in or are being personally mentored. You¡¯d be better off flipping through summoning records.¡± His eyes flick to my succubi. ¡°By the way, I¡¯m Kristoff.¡±

    ¡°Lou.¡± I shake his outstretched hand. ¡°We¡¯ll look around for now but I¡¯ll definitely be around to see those summoning records.¡±

    ¡°Sure. I work here in the mornings on Restday and Saintsday but my evenings are open. If you want, I could show you around.¡±

    Hm? Now, are you being friendly because you are impressed by me or my elementals? The fact that he may be a good person doesn¡¯t come into the equation. The possibility is so remote that seriously contemplating it when examining people¡¯s motives is stupid.

    Huh? I¡¯ve already met such a person? Alana is clearly a freak. I like her but I¡¯m not going to let one saint candidate color my vision.

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    We walk towards the bookshelves. Each bookcase has a gold plaque separating the different sections. Kristoff was right. Going into the Mana Theory section, I randomly grab a book and scan the content.

    Ah. Seems the library assistant was right. Despite many of my classes being focused around the most basic uses of mana, the text heavy book¡¯s dense information is far beyond what is being taught now. ¡°So,¡± I ask putting the book back. ¡°Thoughts?¡±

    ¡°A little friendly, a little horny, a lot of wanting to get close to a future influential summoner. He recognizes you from your paper on third affinity thralls. Those in the advanced class studied it.¡±

    My ego comfortably inflates from being recognized. Oh, how glorious it would be let Geneva show off her true might and catapult me into summoner history. My time will come. ¡°Hm. I want to learn more but I don¡¯t want to jump ahead of myself here. Is any of this useful to you?¡±

    ¡°For my own advancement, no, but I have some hope for the higher floors. The enchantments protecting them are quite extensive for what I¡¯ve seen of humans so far.¡± You can see them from here? How? ¡°As for your instruction, I agree with Kristoff. It would be much more beneficial to focus on your summoning for now than try to skip over the basics.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go. We¡¯ve still got a party to prepare for.¡± Sigh. Today was supposed to be a nice outing with my family, and I do consider my elementals family as every good summoner should, but instead I have to waste time socializing with nobles. I won¡¯t even have a chance of seeing the flying mounts, saints damn them all. ¡°Where¡¯s¡­¡±

    My question peters off when I see Kierra walking back toward me.

    ¡°Seems even a favored teacher still has to follow the rules.¡± She shrugs. ¡°I need a few permits before I am allowed onto the higher floors where advanced anatomy is stored and another to remove the books. Shame. From what I saw of the lower floors, they have information on not just people but several types of manabeasts.¡±

    ¡°Why? It¡¯s just books on animal parts.¡±

    ¡°Ah. But those books also contain the alchemical uses for said parts, highly valuable information. Not that I care about suspicious potions.¡±

    Alchemy. Strange profession. Things touched by mana retain their power in death for a time and if harvested correctly, can be used in elixirs and powders. It¡¯s not completely illogical as a beast can be studied in life to gain a vague understanding of its alchemical use but still dangerous and unpredictable.

    Especially dangerous. Bad potions tend to be either poisonous or explosive. At least that¡¯s what Father told me. He never trusts an alchemist and I¡¯ve inherited his skepticism.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Aurelius will be able to sort that out for you.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Probably over dinner.¡±

    Ugh. That¡¯s a low-blow, damn elf. I walk past her with a frown as she chuckles, dodging the hand that reaches out for me and waving to Kristoff on my way out. The get together isn¡¯t until the evening so we have some time. While I did want to visit the Summoning Hall today, it can be put off now that I have a willing guide to take me anytime.

    Therefore, the market takes precedence. I need to visit the Guiness Company. I can hit three birds with one trip there; visiting Maxine, obtaining a gift for the host of this party so I don¡¯t seem like an uncultured swine from the start, and obtaining information on this Pot-or-whatever guy who¡¯s suddenly taken an interest in me.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 34

    As always, the Guiness Company building is spectacular. Though the gleaming gold and white insignia of a bird in flight draws the eye, it hardly stands out amongst the many magical advertisements. There is noticeably more security here as well, four knights in gold armor standing by the door.

    Kierra, Geneva, Bell, and I disembark in front of it. I want to be surprised when the door is suddenly opened by a smiling Maxine the moment we step onto the gray pavement but, honestly, I¡¯m not. The girl probably jumped down every flight of stairs in the building the second one of her knights spotted my crest coming down the street.

    ¡°Lou. What a surprise!¡±

    Her hands lightly hold onto my shoulders as she leans forward, kissing me on the cheek. I stand there stunned like an idiot. That kind of greeting isn¡¯t inappropriate but it¡¯s something reserved for women who are close. I mean really close. Family close. Childhood friends, maybe. Not two people who¡¯ve known each other for less than a year and converse mainly for business.

    Don¡¯t tell me she¡¯s taking what Geneva said to heart? Damn it, I thought she¡¯d be too drunk to remember that conversation. How¡¯s my wife taking it?

    ¡­not good. Not good at all. People who don¡¯t know her will just see a slight smile but I can feel the weight of her gaze as she takes Maxine apart with her eyes. Maxine hasn¡¯t stepped over the line yet, otherwise she would have already acted, but the weight of her disapproval is heavy.

    If the merchant notices, she doesn¡¯t show it as she turns her smile to Kierra. ¡°And Miss Kierra. It¡¯s good to see you both. Look at me, wasting time in the doorway. Come on in, both of you.¡±

    We follow her inside. This store is very different from the one in the capital. The room seems divided into two sides. One clearly for the students of the Grand Hall, the shelves stocked with books, papers, pens, snack foods, and cheap equipment. The other side seems intended for the more senior casters who find their way to the Hall, including more advanced equipment, artifacts, and raw materials.

    There¡¯s security in here as well, several knights standing around the room. As before, we step behind the register and there is a door leading to another room.

    In the capital, the modest storefront hid a room dedicated to the Guiness Company¡¯s cartography endeavors. Here, it seems to be a showroom. A dozen podiums are placed around the room. Atop them behind enchanted glass are several high-tier artifacts. How do I know? They have affinity stones, meaning those utilizing them don¡¯t need to have the corresponding affinity. Simply provide the intention to activate it and a drop of mana.

    Another clue would have been the well-dressed men and women surrounding the podiums. Some have the colorful, intricate clothes of nobility while others are dressed in powerful artifact armor. All of them are screaming wealth and power.

    Numerous eyes turn to us as we walk by, a few lingering. I ignore them as Maxine leads us up a flight of stairs. There are several rooms here and she opens one to reveal an identical setup from the other store, a small seating area with an attached kitchen.

    ¡°Please have a seat while I get us some refreshments.¡±

    I don¡¯t hesitate to take her up on her offer. It doesn¡¯t take long for her to come back with a tray with tea and snacks. ¡°So, what can I do for you today?¡±

    ¡°Whoa, now. We don¡¯t have to jump right into business. How¡¯s the transition going? Judging from downstairs, business is good.¡±

    Her smile stretches a little wider but it doesn¡¯t reach her eyes. I can practically hear the polite spiel about to pour out and raise a hand to stop her. ¡°Before you launch into your crap, remember who you¡¯re dealing with. Just switch the subject if you don¡¯t want to talk about it, geez.¡±

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    She jumps but then her expression relaxes. ¡°That¡¯s right. There¡¯s no need to be on guard against you, Lou.¡± Hm. Don¡¯t know if I should take that as an insult or a compliment. Oh, well. I guess I can let it go as she shows the slightest frown.

    ¡°To be honest, things are not great. My father made me an assistant manager here but the title is for show. The main purpose was to keep me in contact with the two of you. While I am very happy about that, my elder cousin is doing his utmost to strangle me here, refusing to allow me any room to take a piece of his business.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Is that what that little show at the door was about?¡± Since I¡¯m the only thing she can rely on here, she needs it damn clear that we¡¯re thick as thieves, is it?

    At least she has the decency to wince. ¡°Ah. A little much?¡±

    ¡°A little,¡± Kierra responds. Her face gives away nothing but the slight shift in her voice is enough. Maxine winces harder, realizing she¡¯s annoyed my wife.

    ¡°I apologize if I overstepped my bounds. There will be no more of that. I have enough to make my move now.¡± This time, her smile is smaller and carries a bit of malevolence, but it¡¯s much more honest. ¡°Many of those people downstairs are key members of the guilds in Quest City. My cousin is focused on pleasing the masters of the Grand Hall so I will make my niche dealing with the smaller hunter guilds. There is a lot of money to be made in the alchemy trade.¡±

    ¡°Good, good.¡± The more our pocket merchant achieves, the better off she¡¯ll be. ¡°How about living in the Grand Hall? Is it very different?¡±

    ¡°How should I say it? I feel¡­less secure here.¡± A noble admitting weakness? That¡¯s a big no-no. Either she really trusts me, really doesn¡¯t see me as a threat, or she is willing to open herself up because she knows I appreciate honesty. ¡°This is a place where ability is everything. I am a mediocre caster at best, slightly better than a novice if we¡¯re being honest. Surrounded by masters, the point is made very clear.¡±

    A girl amongst giants. Not that anyone would dare harm her as the wrath of the Guiness Family would fall on them but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that there are too many people here who can end her with a thought. ¡°I sympathize.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I imagine things might be much the same for you. How is it, attending the Hall? Does it live up its reputation?¡±

    ¡°I am learning so I suppose so. I¡¯ve yet to see all it has to offer. That¡¯s something that¡¯ll have to wait till after my initiate year, I suppose. But there¡¯s plenty to do. Speaking of.¡± I lean forward, giving her my best smile. ¡°We need some things from you.¡±

    ¡°Anything I can do.¡±

    ¡°The two things are related. Do you know a noble house of Pottoculli?¡±

    ¡°Pottoculli.¡± She sighs. ¡°We don¡¯t have much to do with them. They¡¯re a part of the noble faction, which means they don¡¯t take kindly to us ¡®gold nobles¡¯ who used our fortunes to obtain our titles. Generally, they¡¯re all the same. They defend the status quo, protecting the power and prestige of the old families against anything that can threaten it.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Would you say it is a good or bad thing such a family is contacting me?¡±

    Her eyes widen as she leans forward. ¡°That depends entirely on how you respond. If you pledge yourself to them, then everything is well. If not, then they¡¯d most definitely suppress you.¡± Her eyes flick to Kierra. Hm. When she says it like that, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s Kierra who¡¯s the problem but our current affiliation with the Guiness family. Ah, this is why I hate nobles.

    ¡°Great. Well, we¡¯ve been invited to a party hosted by a member of their family. I was going to ask for your advice on a suitable present. Something that says¡­obligatory.¡±

    She smiles, happy to hear I¡¯m not considering partnering with them. Well, of course not. I won¡¯t even pledge myself to my own house, you think I¡¯ll bend over for a bunch of strangers because they can throw a few pages of their family¡¯s lineage at me?

    ¡°I can prepare something. I would warn you to watch your back but I believe the two of you are perfectly capable of defending yourselves.¡±

    You have no idea. ¡°Kii?¡±

    She puts down her teacup with a sigh. ¡°I would like for you to procure several seeds and manabeasts for me.¡±

    ¡°That is not a problem but depending on the creature, the cost can become quite¡­extravagant.¡±

    ¡°Cost is not a problem.¡± Reaching into a pocket, she hands over a folded piece of paper. ¡°These are the seeds that I need. As for the manabeasts, I would like to be notified when the whole corpse of a Rank 5 or higher creature is available. As fresh as possible, please.¡±

    ¡°May I know why? Some guilds refuse to trade without knowing the motives of their buyers.¡±

    Huh? Couldn¡¯t you just make something up? Just say you¡¯re curious.

    ¡°Research.¡± Not a complete lie but a lie nonetheless.

    ¡°Very well. I will be sure to handle this. Where can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Our new address is on the paper as well. If we¡¯re not available, you can leave any message with one of the servants.¡±

    We stand and Maxine follows, extending her hand. ¡°As always, a pleasure doing business with you.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 35

    We waste a bit of time on the main floor to show off for Maxine until an employee comes with a smooth wooden box. I don¡¯t bother to check the contents, not caring if the party¡¯s host likes the gift or not. I have a goal to complete and after that, who cares.

    By the time we¡¯re finished, the sun is starting to set. Unfortunately, that means no more time to scout around the market. Preparing for a party takes time.

    We make quick time back to the house. The first thing is to hop in the bath as running around has me covered in dirt and sweat. Ah, this will probably be the best part of the night. How sad.

    Geneva summons enough water to fill the tub while Bell pours in bath oils. The air is quickly filled with sweet smelling steam. A quick wash to get the dirt off and then I eagerly sink into the water, sighing as the heat relaxes my tense muscles. ¡°Dammit, why can¡¯t I spend my whole day off like this? It¡¯s called Restday, for saints¡¯ sake.¡±

    ¡°What would Master say at this moment?¡± Geneva chuckles as she begins washing my hair. ¡°Ah. Don¡¯t pout.¡±

    ¡°I can if I want to. Mm.¡± Her fingers feel amazing. They apply just the right amount of pressure. Somehow, the simple touch is making me go limp all the way down to my toes. A little more of this and I¡¯ll say screw the whole night and go to sleep. ¡°I have to go hunt down some asshole trying to kill me rather than enjoy my time with all of you.¡±

    ¡°You should learn to enjoy your battles, Lou. Something tells me there are many in your future.¡±

    ¡°That is that and this is this.¡±

    ¡°Close your eyes.¡± I obediently follow the instruction as she rinses out the shampoo. ¡°Then, before you have to deal with all that unpleasantness, let me cheer you up.¡± One of her hands leaves my hair and trails across my cheek. Sends nervous shivers down my spine and I squirm away.

    ¡°No need for that.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t let me get far, putting a gentle but immovable hand on my shoulder. ¡°Why, my summoner? I know you think about it. After that display the other night¡­¡± I can feel her hot breath on my ear as she whispers to me. ¡°You steal little bites but shy away from the meal when I know you¡¯re hungry for me. Starving for it. Tell me, what¡¯s holding you back?¡±

    ¡°Why do you care so much?¡± I retort, trying to ignore the heat in my body. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re attracted to me?¡±

    ¡°Would that be so hard to believe?¡± I shudder as her teeth graze my ear. Oh, saints give me the strength. ¡°I like you, Lou. You amuse me and more importantly, you intrigue me. With my long lifespan, that is not easily accomplished. More importantly, I want to be close to you.¡±

    Her lips move downwards, kissing along my neck. ¡°I want you to desire me the way I desire you. To be utterly consumed by the hunger how I am consumed by mine.¡±

    ¡°Eek!¡± An embarrassing sound passes through my lips as she bites down but I don¡¯t care, hurriedly scooting away from her. Geneva pouts at me from the edge of the bath and I feel a wave of guilt. No, no! She¡¯s dangerous! I might not be able to handle Kierra but at least I don¡¯t need to worry about her turning my mind inside out!

    ¡°That! That¡¯s exactly why I don¡¯t want to get too close. You will eat me alive.¡±

    ¡°Mm. That¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t just admit it!¡±

    She shrugs, flashing me a big grin. ¡°I am who I am. And you appreciate honesty, yes? I don¡¯t need to pretend around you. You¡¯ll come to me eventually.¡±

    Saints, she says it with such confidence. I want to throw back a snappy argument but I¡¯d be lying if I said she was anything but right. It¡¯s hard enough right now when I know it¡¯d be a bad idea. The ache between my legs is very demanding and could care less about my good reasons.

    ¡°But for now¡­maybe something a bit less, hm, threatening?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    I turn around to see Bell on the side of the bath, watching me intensely. My sweet little imp. Like Geneva said, she has a much less oppressing presence. To the point there are times I forget she is a powerful virtue, the second strongest evolution of succubi.

    Her eyes never leaving me, I watch as my adorable imp starts to grow. Her figure becomes full and seductive, the molten skin darkening to a soft brown while her eyes remain full of fire. Two black horns sprout from her head, smaller nubs between and around them forming a kind of crown. With her strong brow and fine features, it¡¯s as if someone sculpted a queen and then breathed life into their art.

    ¡°Master Lou.¡± Her voice is deep but still feminine. It¡¯s magic, literally. I don¡¯t just hear it, I can feel each syllable. ¡°Allow me.¡±

    I swallow harshly. Even if I want to voice a rejection, which the saints know I don¡¯t, I don¡¯t think I could get it past my dry throat. I¡¯m a doe held transfixed in the predator¡¯s gaze as she stalks toward me, knowing escape is pointless.

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    The water hisses when she places a foot in but it soon calms as she makes her way to me. In a matter of moments, she¡¯s in front of me. A hand gently opens my legs and she moves between them, placing her hands on either side of me as she leans forward. Putting us skin to skin. Or skin to stone.

    ¡°Touch me. I know you want to.¡± Her invitation is light. Dare I say, even innocent. ¡°You¡¯ve never held back before and there¡¯s no need now. I¡¯m still your adorable Bell.¡±

    That¡¯s right. She¡¯s bigger now but she¡¯s still the little imp I carry around in my arms.

    A hand shakily reaches up to stroke her head the way I always do, moving through her wax-like hair and before I run my nails around the base of her horns the way she particularly likes. I relax when her eyes close, her expression clearly showing how pleased she is. ¡°My Bell.¡±

    ¡°Yesss.¡±

    With her offering herself to me, I find the courage to wander. My hands move down her neck and across her shoulders before circling around to cup her breasts. Mm. The weight is what I expect and while her skin feels harder, it is smooth and pleasant to the touch. It even gives when I press against her nipples, teasing them with my fingertips.

    She hisses, arching into me. I lick my lips. ¡°Do you feel it? I mean¡­¡±

    ¡°The way a woman made of simple flesh would?¡± Her eyes seem to be glowing brighter. ¡°Oh, yes. It would be quite an ordeal if we offered ourselves for carnal pleasure while unable to enjoy it.¡±

    She takes one of my hands and guides it down, letting me trail her literal rock-hard abs before pushing it between her legs. The wet lips are both familiar and exciting. And the heat. Saints, it¡¯s like sticking my hand into an inferno. I¡¯m amazed I¡¯m not being burned.

    ¡°Shapeshifters, my dear master.¡± Her whisper has a hint of humor. ¡°I am as woman as I want to be.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I¡¯m quickly losing interest in the details as my fingers explore her. Finding her entrance, I bite my bottom lip and push a finger in. There¡¯s practically no resistance but her muscles clench around me like a vice. Saints, I love that feeling.

    Groaning in appreciation, I pull back and slide another inside her, taking my time as I search for that spot that¡¯ll make her scream.

    She didn¡¯t lie to me. As my fingers stroke her, she arcs toward me, hips bucking as she fucks my fingers. ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± Her voice sounds even sexier when she¡¯s panting. That has to be for my benefit but damn me if it isn¡¯t working. My opposite hand goes around her waist, pulling her closer to me. I¡¯m starting to lose the last holds on my reason.

    ¡°You¡¯re so, ahhh, so good. More, Lou. Give me more~¡±

    She moans as I add a third finger, her hips moving faster. It¡¯s so damn hot inside her. I¡¯m starting to think it¡¯s some kind of magic, because I can feel that heat spreading towards me, flushing my body and making it more sensitive. I have to hold myself back from moaning every time our bodies brush each other and my head feels dizzy. It¡¯s amazing but I can¡¯t help wondering¡ª

    A kiss interrupts my thoughts and steals my breath away. I part my lips and a tongue that feels heavier than normal moves to twine with my own.

    After a moment of us kissing between her gasps of pleasure, she pulls back, a clear strand of saliva connecting us before it falls against my chin. ¡°I can feel your doubt. Do you want to know just how much I am enjoying this? How good you make me feel?¡±

    ¡°Oh fuck, yes.¡± I am far beyond the point of worrying about possible addiction to these succubi by now.

    I feel her push against my mind and then I feel the pleasure. Every time I move inside her, a bolt of pleasure races down my spine, making me squirm. Only an echo, just enough to frustrate me but more than enough for my voice to leak. To cover the embarrassing moans, I latch onto one of her breasts, licking and suckling like I¡¯d die if I¡¯m pulled away.

    A hand twines in my hair, holding me against her. ¡°Yes, Lou. Take me. I¡¯m yours. I¡¯ll give you everything~¡±

    With her dangerous whispers in my ears, I double my efforts, wanting, no, needing to feel her ultimate surrender. She responds to both my thoughts and my actions, her movements becoming more frantic. ¡°I¡¯m cu¡ªahh! You¡¯re going, hah, to make me, haah ahhh¡­¡±

    My thumb moves, teasing that sensitive nub above her lower lips. The reaction is immediate. Her body stiffens as she lets out a scream that nearly drives me over the edge myself, hands grabbing me with a grip that is just short of painful. Even with her body below water, I can feel the flood of her climax.

    To make it worse, she doesn¡¯t hold back. I feel the full force of her pleasure but I also can feel her magic grab ahold of my body. Damn virtue and her damn physical affinity! No matter how much my body screams for it, that glorious peak is denied to me, trapping me in sweet agony as I feel her relax against me.

    I may not be able to read minds but I can hear the amusement in her voice as I squirm in her hold. ¡°Something the matter, Lou?¡±

    ¡°You know damn well.¡± My hands go to her shoulders, pushing her away from me and guiding her to kneel. ¡°¡­you don¡¯t need to breathe, do you?¡±

    The grin she gives to me is absolutely wicked. ¡°Not if I don¡¯t want to.¡±

    She needs no more prompting, kneeling in the water between my legs. I can barely hold back my excitement as a pair of strong hands part my legs, putting them over her shoulders as she leans forward. I can feel her hot breath and my eyes reflexively shut, waiting¡­

    Waiting¡­

    Fucking seriously? Why? My anticipation becomes mixed with frustration as I finally feel her touch. Not where I want it but as gentle kisses across my thighs. ¡°Oh, for saints¡¯ sake¡­¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± The head temptress appears at my side. Those pink irises are filled with bad intentions as she smiles at me.

    ¡°She¡¯s teasing me, dammit.¡±

    ¡°Why are you letting her? Who¡¯s the pet here, my summoner?¡± Geneva turns my head and kisses me deeply. ¡°If you want it, you simply need to command it,¡± she whispers against my lips.

    Here lies the road to the pit the Grimoires fell in or worse, becoming a puppet to these succubi. Saints know what she¡¯s planning by guiding me into these murky waters filled with power. Can I keep the few morals I have left or will they turn me into a hopeless deviant?

    Guess we¡¯ll find out.

    My hands go into the water, grabbing her two largest horns. I move her head exactly where I want it. ¡°Bell. Stop fucking around and make me cum.¡±

    [Everything will be as you wish, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Ohhh.¡± Her tongue is so long, reaching places I don¡¯t think a tongue is meant to reach. And it¡¯s strong. Rather than licking, its strokes along my walls are deep and intentional. She curls it, hitting that sweet spot. I might have jumped out of the water if she didn¡¯t have a hold on my legs. And it¡¯s so damn hot! I feel like my insides are melting as I endure the onslaught.

    I don¡¯t even try to hold my voice back, letting it echo off the high ceiling as I throw my head back. Geneva is there to hold me, starting up those dangerous whispers again as I tremble beneath my voracious lover.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 36

    My succubi weren¡¯t intent on letting me get away anytime soon but the ¡°fun¡± is interrupted by Kierra coming in and reminding me about my mission. After a short break to turn my brain back on, I shoo them out of the bedroom to get dressed.

    Seeing as we¡¯ll be mingling with high society, I go for something more upscale. If all else should fail, we can always move to some nice countryside and live off Kierra¡¯s tailoring skills. I have no idea how she did it but somehow she wove a pattern onto a long sleeve shirt that looks like pages being blown across its surface. Paired with that same violet hue that reminds me of my benefactor, I think this may be my favorite one yet.

    Nomad is waiting at the front with the carriage, looking quite spiffy in his uniform. The deep purple jacket really brings out the despair in his eyes.

    Also waiting are my succubi. Geneva stands at the end of the steps with her knowing grin. Bell is now her lovable imp self and comes padding over to me, tail swishing behind her. At my feet, she looks up at me, the picture of innocence. ¡°Coo?¡±

    Sigh. As if I can resist that look. I reach down and scoop her up, holding her against my chest. I know she can hear my heart thumping. Saints preserve me, every time I hold her I¡¯m going to remember that bath.

    ¡°Coo~¡± [Master Lou is delicious.]

    ¡°You hush,¡± I snap without any anger, flushing. I turn around to Kierra. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later tonight.¡±

    She waggles her fingers from the doorway. ¡°Have fun. And if you have to kill someone, don¡¯t leave any evidence. I¡¯d rather not have to leave this place just yet.¡±

    -

    We are the only carriage nearby as the rest of the guests already live in the Gold Dorm. I direct Nomad to pull around the side before we disembark. ¡°You may be out here for a while.¡±

    ¡°Forgotten and alone. A fitting existence for myself.¡±

    ¡°Great.¡±

    Beside its clear opulence, another clear difference in the status of the Gold Dorm is the security by the front door. I hesitate to call them knights, as they aren¡¯t dressed in the signature full plate armor most wear and have none of the discipline. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say they are older acolytes.

    That can¡¯t be real security. I mean, anyone confident enough in their ability to storm the Hall to go after these heirs can handle a few aspiring masters. Are they just here to make sure the riffraff don¡¯t go where they don¡¯t belong? So much for titles don¡¯t matter here.

    I feel the two eyeing me as I approach. I wonder, am I noble enough to pass their inspection?

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    Before I get my answer, a young boy comes running out of the building. Young is pushing it. He¡¯s probably only a year or two younger than me but the baby fat is clinging to him, giving him a soft look.

    He skids to a stop in front of me. ¡°Lady Tome, correct?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s me.¡±

    He gives me a hasty bow. ¡°Young master Pottoculli sent me to escort you inside. If you would follow me.¡±

    Jeez, how many servants does this guy have here? At least with him leading me, the doormen ignore me. The setup of the two dorms is incredibly similar. The front door opens into a wide lobby, this one decorated with several woven tapestries displaying the symbol for magic.

    There are three doorways. The servant leads me through the one on the far right, which shortly leads us into a wide ballroom. A familiar scene of people mingling with the soft hum of conversation in the background greets me. Ugh. There¡¯s no table for food. Instead, servants are walking around with trays carrying small snacks.

    That settles it. I¡¯m definitely not staying here a moment longer than needed.

    Geneva. You know what to do.

    [Yes. If I see him, I will let you know.]

    ¡°The young master is waiting for you.¡±

    ¡°Goodie.¡± Trying hard not to let how much I don¡¯t want to be here show on my face, I follow him to the middle of the room. Peter is standing with a small group. From the way they all pay rapt attention to him as he weaves some mundane story, it¡¯s clear to see he¡¯s the highest ranking amongst them.

    Noble faction, huh. The Tome family didn¡¯t have enough status for any faction to take notice of us, but if we were to belong to one, with our long history, it¡¯d be them.

    Dodged an arrow there.

    Peter looks up and notices us, instantly plastering a fake smile on his face. Like sheep following their shepherd, the rest of the group look to see what¡¯s got his attention. I can feel them analyzing me. The noblemen seem curious more than anything. Two of the three ladies show clear disapproval, but one is openly admiring my shirt. You have good taste.

    ¡°Lourianne.¡± My escort bows away unnoticed as his master greets me. And since when are we close enough for you to use my first name? ¡°I¡¯m so glad you could make it.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t miss it.¡± I wave to Geneva and she hands me the gift. ¡°A small token.¡±

    ¡°You needn¡¯t have.¡± Peter¡¯s smile is full of smug satisfaction. Hope he doesn¡¯t think this little thing means I care about him one way or the other.

    He might. Nobles¡¯ egos make them prone to delusions.

    He waves a hand and a servant appears to take the box away. ¡°Everyone, allow me to introduce Lourianne Tome. Already an accomplished summoner and the spouse of Kierra Atainna.¡±

    That got their attention. Everyone¡¯s all smiles now.

    ¡°Ah,¡± one of the guys say while sidling closer to me. ¡°I have heard of you but did not know your name. The elf who lives in the human continent is quite the talk of every house. I am¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, she¡¯s pretty hard to ignore,¡± I say right over his introduction. I grab a passing servant by the shoulder and pull them over, keeping them still while I grab several small desserts from their tray. ¡°It¡¯s only because it¡¯s new. Once people are used to seeing her about the place, they¡¯ll stop jumping out of their skins.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Peter says. ¡°Your wife is spectacular in her own person but what has garnered so much attention is what she represents. A crossing of borders. Opportunity. I have heard historians have found accounts of all kinds of wonders within the elven continent.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know about that. But hey, everyone¡¯s free to make their way there. The Guiness Company has recently obtained a map of the Enchanted Forest which would prove helpful to any expeditions.¡±

    ¡°Courtesy of your wife?¡±

    ¡°Courtesy of myself actually, though I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll have someone else clean up the drawings. I¡¯m not the greatest talent with a pen.¡±

    [Lou. I have him.]

    Where is the bastard?

    [Coming straight towards us.]

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 37

    ¡°You must tell us about the elves!¡± Oh, it¡¯s the admirer. ¡°Are they all as beautiful as your wife? And do they all have such strange coloring? When I first saw the new instructor, I thought she was plagued by some terrible illness.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know, haven¡¯t been around others,¡± I mumble off-handedly as I watch the one with designs on my life. He doesn¡¯t look like much of a villain. With his well-combed blonde hair common to most Harvest nobility, common brown eyes, and short stature, he¡¯s rather unremarkable.

    The most noticeable thing about him is his clothes, but those are more a testament to his money than him. I don¡¯t recognize the colors immediately but that could say more about my ignorance than the standing of his family.

    It might actually be pretty high judging from the way Peter immediately holds out a hand to introduce him. ¡°Lourianne, this is Lavern, second son of the Newster house. You might have heard of them. They are the largest traders of domestic goods in the kingdom.¡±

    Pfft. That¡¯s a nice way of saying they¡¯re number two. The only reason the Guiness Company isn¡¯t the ¡®largest trader of domestic goods¡¯ is because they make more money importing exotic goods though I¡¯m sure they have plenty of domestic trade as well.

    Ah. Think I know why this guy, or his family, wants me dead.

    ¡°Lady Tome. It¡¯s an honor to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Pleasure¡¯s all mine.¡±

    ¡°Lourianne was just telling us about the map she created of the Enchanted Forest.¡± Peter looks at the newcomer meaningfully. Maybe with a hint of disappointment? I only say so because Lavern swallows nervously. And oops, was that map supposed to be a secret? Thought they¡¯d be waving the thing around to recruit people for an expedition already.

    ¡°Truly remarkable. The Enchanted Forest and the elven continent haven¡¯t been explored for hundreds of years. There must be any number of treasures waiting to be discovered. It¡¯s almost like the songs of old when our ancestors settled this land. Many a fortune to be made.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    Huh? Why are you two making it sound like those treasures don¡¯t already belong to someone? It¡¯s not like the elves are just going to let you waltz into their domain and take their things. Best of luck with that. Anyway, now that I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve found my target, let¡¯s push some buttons to get him to show his cards. ¡°The Guiness Company sure seems to think so. They were eager to get their hands on that map, haha.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, how much did they offer you?¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t believe this. They gave me 300 gold for those scribbles. Haha, isn¡¯t that crazy?¡±

    That did it. Both Lavern¡¯s and Peter¡¯s carefully crafted smiles shatter, their lips turning down heavily. ¡°Lady Tome, I fear you have been horrifically cheated!¡±

    ¡°Really? I thought it was a good price. The only thing on there was the route I took to the border and a few of the dangers.¡±

    ¡°Only¡­¡± Peter shakes his head. It¡¯s impossible to hide his frustration with me at this point. I don¡¯t blame him. If I was the idiot I¡¯m pretending to be, I¡¯d want to slap some sense into me as well.

    Lavern steps forward, forcing me to focus on him. ¡°Please listen to me. This is a conspiracy by those Guiness. They have grossly undervalued your work. Few have survived a night in the Enchanted Forest and certainly none have documented their journeys. As the only route to the elven continent, any information that could aide in establishing a secure passage there is worth a fortune.¡±

    I do my best to appear confused. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­surely they wouldn¡¯t try and hide something like that? It¡¯s the Guiness Company.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let their golden crest sway you. They are all crooks, peasants who have used trickery and dark methods to buy their way into nobility. You cannot trust them.¡±

    Heh, which successful merchant hasn¡¯t had a few dark dealings? Hypocrite. But the whole group is nodding along with him. Great, all members of the noble faction confirmed.

    ¡°Actually, my own Newster family attempted to contact you in hopes of buying any information you had. I can only imagine through some deceit the Guiness family removed our couriers. With a second offer, they would have never been able to rob you in broad daylight.¡±

    Did I get something like that? If I did, there¡¯s a good chance I tossed it.

    ¡°We¡¯re still prepared to pay you the amount you deserve if you are willing to sell your map to us.¡±

    And now that you¡¯ve stoked my anger against the Guiness, swoop in to take advantage of me yourself. Time for the finishing blow. ¡°Eh. It¡¯s fine, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    I wave dismissively. ¡°I mean, I already made a deal with them. It¡¯d be bad if I were to go back on it. 300¡¯s a good amount to get a few nice things and that¡¯s the end of it.¡±

    ¡°Please reconsider. Between your knowledge of the Enchanted Forest and your wife¡¯s connections to the elven continent, a partnership with my family could be incredibly profitable. We¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure. Who knows, maybe if we run out of gold or something, she can do that. Hey, thanks for telling me all this. Won¡¯t let the Guiness family cheat me again, that¡¯s for sure, haha.¡±

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    Saints, he¡¯s getting angry. ¡°Why would you go back to them? I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why? They¡¯re the best, aren¡¯t they? The largest merchant family in the kingdom, period. No offense to your domestic trade but they¡¯re the go-to for exotic goods so it only makes sense.¡±

    Yup, definitely angry. A vein is throbbing on the side of his head.

    Peter puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from doing something he might regret. ¡°That is truly unfortunate to hear. I thought you¡¯d be wise enough to look past the glimmering reputation of crooks and see the value in working with a reputable family. Nobility are the only ones with real honor. You are making a dangerous move by consorting with those of inferior blood.¡±

    There¡¯s the thinly veiled threat. Do you also want me dead? Is the entire noble faction my enemy? Geneva, you¡¯re scanning their every thought, right?

    [Of course.]

    Time to make our exit. ¡°Bah. It¡¯ll be fine. Besides, I¡¯m an initiate at the Grand Hall. What can happen to me here?¡±

    ¡°Danger can find us anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Hahaha! That was a joke, right? You¡¯re pretty funny.¡± I reach out and slap his arm, putting some strength behind it. It¡¯s gratifying to see him wince. ¡°It¡¯s extra funny because you don¡¯t look like a funny guy. Anyway, I thought this was supposed to be a party. It¡¯s pretty dull. Where¡¯s the music and the booze?¡±

    I reach out and grab a drink from a passing server, taking a quick sip before spitting it back into the glass and putting it back on the tray. ¡°Yeah, that swill isn¡¯t going to do it. Did you just add some coloring to a bucket of water and pour?¡±

    Peter scowls. ¡°That¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°You know what you need? Girls. No, not them.¡± I purposely scowl in the direction of the noble girls. ¡°I mean women. Dancers. Preferably with, you know.¡± I cup my hands over my chest and waggle my eyebrows. ¡°If you guys want to talk, why don¡¯t we ditch this place and go find a spot in the Myriad Zone? Now that¡¯s a good time.¡±

    ¡°¡­perhaps you should indulge.¡±

    ¡°Eh? But it¡¯s kind of rude to leave a party so early. And didn¡¯t you want to talk to me? I mean, you invited me here personally. Escort and everything.¡±

    This time his wince is harder. Physical pain cannot compare to the pain of having one¡¯s reputation bruised. I can see some of the nobles at the fringe of my vision who¡¯ve been doing their best to listen in whispering to each other. ¡°I would rather you enjoy yourself.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re good people, Pete. No offense to you guys though. This is¡­nice.¡± Oh, that had just the right amount of mockery, disdain, and disregard. Everyone¡¯s offended. ¡°But you do you. I¡¯ll see you later. Let me know before you throw the next party. I¡¯ll give you some tips.¡±

    Snickering to myself, I leave the ballroom amidst a sea of whispers. Outside, I tell Nomad to wait a bit before we take off and relax against the comfortable seats of the carriage. ¡°Now then. I¡¯ve identified my would-be killers and cemented my image as a simpleton amongst the nobility of the Grand Hall. A successful night.¡±

    ¡°That silly display had a purpose?¡±

    ¡°Of course it did. If they think I¡¯m a fool, they¡¯ll underestimate me and make maneuvering against them much easier. Which you knew because you¡¯re always in my head. Tell me this. Can you still tell what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°A simple matter. At the moment, most of the party goers are discussing your performance. Words like ¡®swine¡¯, ¡®pervert¡¯, ¡®lecher¡¯, and ¡®disgrace¡¯ are being used quite a bit.¡±

    ¡°Oh no. The other kids don¡¯t like me.¡± I snort. ¡°What about the two stars of the evening?¡±

    Geneva smiled. ¡°Your little comment about being personally invited by Peter is not doing him any favors. He¡¯s currently distancing himself from you. He¡¯s very annoyed. Annoyed enough to seek retribution. If he weren¡¯t an enemy, you would have made him one.¡±

    ¡°His sidekick?¡±

    ¡°Lamenting his bad luck that the key to the elven treasures lies in the hands of a ¡®stupid, perverted freak¡¯. He¡¯s also quite consumed with a hatred of all things Guiness. I imagine it¡¯s something close to your old rivalry with the Grimoires. Losing you to the ¡®golden family¡¯ makes everything ten times worse.¡±

    When she puts it in those words, it makes it easy to sympathize with him. For a moment. The asshole did try to have me killed after all. Cuddling Bell, I kick off my shoes and put up my feet, listening to Geneva narrate. Waiting.

    It takes quite a while. Geneva tells me the party is all but broken up when Peter pulls the young merchant aside. I listen with amusement as she narrates their interaction, going as far as to imitate their voices.

    ¡°The Tome girl is definitely going to be a problem.¡±

    ¡°Give me some time. She may be an idiot but even idiots can understand the sound of gold. A map of the Enchanted Forest. Saints! We need to get our hands on it.¡±

    ¡°What we need is to prevent the Guiness Company from establishing trade with the elves. Do you want to see this country with the knife-ears walking around everywhere? There is a reason all the races separated.¡±

    ¡°But there is still money to be made. My sources tell me that Marquis Guiness is acting on the belief that the elves are sitting on a deposit of xanderium. It¡¯s that xanderium!¡±

    ¡°Tempting but a fatal trap. You asked for a single meeting. You received it. Now, it is time to handle her. With Lourianne Tome gone, the elf¡¯s connection to the human continent disappears. The lost opportunity will hurt for a while but soon, you¡¯ll see I am doing you a favor.¡±

    ¡°¡­I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Your men are still able to do the job?¡±

    ¡°Ah. They¡¯re okay with arranging an accident but she isn¡¯t easily provoked.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Someone that shameless would hardly accept an honorable duel but everyone has a line that cannot be crossed. What do the observers say?¡±

    ¡°Surprisingly, she is a serious student, devoting herself to her classes. She only talks to one person. The girl is quite talented. A light affinity.¡±

    ¡°Someone loved by the saints. It would pain me to have to do anything too drastic but if it is the only way. Nothing permanent. Have someone on standby in the Myriad Zone. It¡¯d be best if she disappeared in one of the hovels she seems fond of. Not another mundane. Get one of the hunters.¡±

    ¡°And when it¡¯s done? They¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes. We will take care of them.¡±

    ¡°As expected of the Pottoculli family. Perhaps we can also discuss blah blah blah.¡± Geneva opens her eyes as she relaxes. ¡°The poor boy is about to devolve into a serious bout of ass-kissing. I don¡¯t think you need to hear that.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Pete, Pete, Pete. You were right. Everyone does have lines you don¡¯t cross. People jerking around the innocent for their own selfish motives is one of mine. I¡¯m no hero but I won¡¯t turn a blind eye when it involves someone I care about. You¡¯re going to target someone I think of as a friend? You won¡¯t have time to regret this. ¡°Tell Nomad we¡¯re getting out of here.¡±

    Now I know without a shadow of a doubt who is after my life and why.  It could only be money or power. A rival merchant house of the Guiness doesn¡¯t want them making more money by partnering with my wife and Peter seems to be wary of the elves moving into the human continent.

    What sticks out to me is that they are using third parties. Powerful houses have private armies, knights under their employ to defend their holdings and hold back their enemies. It shouldn¡¯t be necessary to hire out the work and those professionals would be a much better option, both for quality and control.

    Perhaps because their families don¡¯t approve? That makes the most sense. If such houses really wanted me dead, second and third sons wouldn¡¯t be discussing it in their dorm.

    Oh, that leaves me with a few options. A few very fun options. ¡°Okay. This is what we¡¯re going to do¡­¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 38

    The next day, I¡¯m bright and early to Mana Work along with Geneva, Bell trailing behind us with her head on a swivel. With an active threat to my life confirmed, it¡¯s best to have her close at hand. And really, there¡¯s no point worrying about her drawing attention now that it¡¯s out about my marriage.

    Contrary to the first day, Mano tends to arrive earlier than everyone else, taking the extra time to meditate himself. A fact I¡¯m counting on as I need to have a bit of a word with him.

    His eyes open as we step onto the grass, smiling softly. ¡°Miss Tome.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t let me stop you.¡± I wave for him to remain seated, crouching in front of him. ¡°The first day we had a discussion about an exchange of favors.¡±

    His smile widens. ¡°Have you reconsidered my offer?¡±

    ¡°I have. Rather, I have a situation you might be able to help me with. I need information on the abilities of a one Peter Pottoculli.¡±

    ¡°The name doesn¡¯t ring a bell so he must not be one of the more accomplished acolytes. It should be a simple matter obtaining the information. Shall we say, three sessions?¡±

    I snort. ¡°Please. I may be a beginner caster but I know the value of my elemental. She made me, a complete beginner, able to both feel and circulate my mana in a matter of minutes. Who knows what kind of breakthrough she can provide for you? One session, twenty minutes.¡±

    ¡°Done.¡± He shrugs. ¡°Can¡¯t blame me for trying. I should have something ready for you by the end of the day. Where would you like to meet?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re here early enough. Tomorrow. We can do your session at the same time if you bring me back something substantial.¡±

    ¡°I will be sure not to disappoint. In the meantime, would you like to join me? There¡¯s no rule saying you must start training when the bell rings.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Geneva proceeds me, sitting cross-legged on the grass beside Mano. I lay down with my head in her lap, letting her guide me into a state of complete concentration as I focus on moving my mana.

    -

    ¡°Wait up, Alana!¡±

    Saints, this girl moves fast. As soon as Mano dismisses us, she is already off the field, powerwalking to our next class. She gives me a look out of the corner of her eye. ¡°Good morning, Lou. You don¡¯t look any worse for wear after your party.¡±

    ¡°Heh. That¡¯s more impressive than you think it is. Actually, that party is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.¡± Ah, now that I¡¯m saying it out loud, I feel a little guilty getting her involved in my problems. Only a little. It¡¯s their fault for being assholes in the first place.

    ¡°I made a few enemies last night and there¡¯s a chance they might come after you to piss me off, so, uh, happy Manaday?¡±

    She comes to an abrupt stop, grabbing my arm to stop me as well. Hey, now. That¡¯s a dangerous expression you¡¯re wearing. Really hope that¡¯s not directed at me. ¡°Explain.¡±

    ¡°¡­practically everyone in this kingdom wants to use my wife as a bridge to get the resources of the elven continent. Of course, we want nothing to do with it. However, because we made a completely unrelated deal with the Guiness Company, a certain competitor feels threatened. The party was meant to be an invitation to join them. Since I¡¯ve turned them down, I think they have the worse intentions for me. I have reason to believe they might target you to incite me into accepting a duel.¡±

    I spill my guts. Hm? I¡¯m a coward? No, no, it¡¯s just that there¡¯s no need to invite unnecessary dangers into my life. I know that look and Alana doesn¡¯t seem the type that needs details sugarcoated.

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    She proves me right. Rather than panicked or angry, she appears thoughtful. ¡°Do you know their family names?¡±

    ¡°Pottoculli is the leader and he has a lacky named Newster.¡±

    ¡°Neither are from the militant faction. Bunch of golden pansies.¡± She scoffs. ¡°I¡¯m not concerned about either of them. Like I said, they can¡¯t use their influence to bully anyone here.¡± Her eyes soften as she looks at me. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be concerned about me.¡±

    ¡°I know you can take care of yourself. And it won¡¯t be for long. I¡¯ve got a plan.¡±

    ¡°¡­do you need help?¡±

    ¡°Hey. Why do you sound so skeptical? I¡¯m reliable. If I say I can handle it, I can handle it. Geo, tell her.¡±

    ¡°Master Lou is quite remarkable when the situation calls for it.¡±

    Alana looks between the two of us. She doesn¡¯t look very confident in us. ¡°You could have ordered her to say that.¡±

    ¡°What do you take me for!?¡±

    ¡°Whatever.¡± Alana starts walking again, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°I¡¯ll trust you, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Putting on a tough face.¡± Geneva, go to the house. I¡¯m sure you can set up a rudimentary alarm system. And tell the servants to be on the lookout for some unsavory types. I don¡¯t want any collateral of any kind. This is going to be a flawless victory.

    [As you wish, my summoner.]

    As she disappears from my side, I motion for Bell to climb onto my shoulder as I run after my friend. I throw an arm over her shoulders. She glares at me but doesn¡¯t shrug me off. ¡°Hey, I might be missing at lunch for a few days. There¡¯s something I need to do.¡±

    -

    Walking to the Gold Dorm, I see the sentries from last night weren¡¯t a feature of the occasion. Two more stand by the door, looking more attentive in the daylight. Like before, I am carefully examined, though it doesn¡¯t last as long. They clearly disapprove, frowning heavily on my approach. I ignore their unwelcoming gazes and keep approaching.

    ¡°Hold on.¡± One of them holds up a hand. ¡°What is your business here?¡±

    ¡°Just came for a meal.¡±

    ¡°Who gave the invitation?¡±

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t need one.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recognize your face.¡±

    Jeez, this guy is dedicated to his job. ¡°First time visiting.¡±

    ¡°Name?¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome.¡±

    His eyes are full of distrust as he pulls out a clear orb from his pocket. It starts to glow. Oh, guess that was an artifact. ¡°Dorm mother, there is someone claiming to have right of access. Lourianne Tome.¡±

    There is a moment of silence. Then a voice I can only describe as heavenly answers softly, ¡°Permitted.¡± What the hell, is that thing connected to the Angel Dust realm? I¡¯m having a hard time believing that voice belongs to a human.

    The guard is clearly unhappy. He clicks his tongue while moving out of the way of the door. Not very professional of you. I make eye contact with him and stick out my tongue as I pass, enjoying his frustration.

    Heh. I¡¯ll be the first to admit I¡¯m the pettiest person in the room.

    Ah, just realized I don¡¯t actually know where the dining hall would be. Bell?

    ¡°Coo coo.¡± [You want to go straight, master Lou.]

    Following her directions, I quickly find my way to the dining hall. At least, I think it¡¯s the dining hall. With the lights turned down for atmosphere, the private tables with only six places, and the servers waiting by as the students make their orders, I think I might have entered a high-class restaurant by mistake. There¡¯s even a minstrel for saints¡¯ sake, playing a soft tune on his lyre.

    Noble privilege. It never ceases to amaze me.

    Shaking off my astonishment, I search the crowd for my target. Lucky me, he¡¯s already seated. Grinning broadly, I move across the room and boldly take a seat at an already occupied table.

    Peter looks up from his meal with some shock. To make things better, Lavern is sitting with him along with three young ladies. My plan works best with an audience. ¡°Pete! How¡¯s it going buddy?¡±

    ¡°¡­Miss Tome. What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Having lunch of course. What else would I be doing? Haha. Hey.¡± I wave down a server. ¡°Can I get a menu over here? Thanks.¡± I set Bell on the table, ignoring the scandalized expressions around me as I lean forward. ¡°So, how was the party after I left? I¡¯ll be sad if you tell me things swung into a frenzy after I made my exit.¡±

    ¡°It was a pleasant evening. Are you here to see someone? Perhaps I can point you in the right direction.¡±

    Wondering how someone with my low status can enter this building, huh? Hehe, this is hilarious. ¡°Well, I¡¯m here to see you, aren¡¯t I? I mean, you did offer me an invitation. Let me tell you, those guards at the front didn¡¯t believe me when I said I was your guest, haha. Took a while to convince them but hey, no one wants to cause problems for the Pottoculli family. Am I right? Thanks, pal.¡±

    I take the menu while Peter stews in frustration. Poor man. I know you want to just throw me out on my ass but that¡¯s not the way nobles do things. It¡¯s all shiny on the surface and shoveling dirt in the dark. So, he has to swallow his harsh words despite me outright lying. ¡°Must have slipped my mind.¡±

    ¡°No harm done.¡± I pause to put in my order then lean toward one of the ladies. She leans away from me which only makes my grin stretch wider. ¡°Who wants to tell me what you guys do for fun around here besides standing around sipping bad wine?¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 39

    ¡°Pete!¡±

    For the past two weeks I have been hounding the poor man. I have to give him credit. He has been nothing but patient.

    For the first three days, he tolerated me sitting at his table. For the next five, he tried to avoid me but with a little assistance from Bell, there¡¯s no where he can hide. We even followed him to his room, camping outside his door and talking incessantly. He couldn¡¯t even find release on his rest day.

    Now, the moment I¡¯ve been waiting for has come. He¡¯s reached the end of his patience. As I wave at him from across the dining hall of the Gold Dorm, drawing all eyes toward us, he can¡¯t hold his polite smile, outright scowling at me. The rest of the table has abandoned him except Lavern, unable to contain themselves in the face of my ¡®friendship¡¯. By now, the two of us are linked in the minds of all the nobles here and there¡¯s no separating us, something that must frustrate him.

    I practically skip over to the table, working hard to maintain my eager, enthusiastic expression as he stands up. I grab the back of one of the chairs, but my hand is smacked away. I pull it against my chest, not having to fake my offense. Seriously, did this guy just slap me? ¡°Hey, what gives?¡±

    ¡°I have had enough of you.¡± His eyes are full of disdain as he looks down his nose at me. ¡°This is no place for a dirty disgrace of a noble like you. Get out. Now.¡±

    ¡°Hey, buddy. Relax. I know I¡¯m kind of unkempt at the moment but I just finished with Foundation.¡± I give myself a demonstrative sniff, reeling back. Whew, that was a little stronger than I thought it would be. ¡°Ah, you know how it is. The smell of hard work.¡±

    ¡°Did you not hear me?¡± He shoves me. Bastard is stronger than he looks. Being unprepared, I stumble back. The fall is my own doing though. Got to make it look good. ¡°I said, get out or I will throw you out. You disgust me. No one can enjoy their meals with a swine like you lingering about.¡±

    I can feel several glares as they come to rest on my back. There are a few titters of laughter in the background, those enjoying the show making themselves known.

    ¡°You bastard!¡± It¡¯s not hard to inject indignation into my voice as I messily scramble to my feet. ¡°Y-you can¡¯t treat me like this! I thought we were friends. But since you can¡¯t get anything out of me, you just throw me aside. The great son from the Pottoculli family is just the same as a common swindler I see.¡±

    Now, Bell. Give him a little poke.

    I can hear her laughter in my mind as she reaches out to him. Mental manipulation is a serious crime in the kingdom. Those with the mental affinity can sense lingering mana from such acts and offenders are offered no mercy. However, stimulating an emotion that is already there takes barely any mana at all, especially for someone with the finesse of a circle 5 virtue like Belolial. Just enough to allow the anger I¡¯ve been stoking to overcome his sensibilities.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be confused. The only one who has any worth is the elf you call your wife. You are nothing! It boggles the mind to think what such a creature sees in an animal like you. But then again, maybe the two of you fit each other. A backwards country freak and a green savage!¡±

    The laughing has stopped. While belittling and even bullying me may be fine, he¡¯s crossed several lines. One, you always maintain your calm. Insult me all the way to my first ancestor but shouting like this is a breach of etiquette. Second, and most important, he just spoke out against someone of higher status. Family name aside, he¡¯s a third son. Kierra is the only representative of the elven nation.

    Right now, he¡¯s committed one of the three ultimate sins of nobility; embarrassed himself in front of witnesses. I don¡¯t have to do anything else and the hammer of retribution is already set to fall on him. But no, I¡¯m going to drive the nail all the way in.

    Squaring my shoulders, I drop my fool act. ¡°You have gone too far, Pottoculli. Dare to insult me and my wife. If you are a man, then I demand satisfaction. We will settle this in a duel.¡±

    ¡°Hah! You know when you want to die. I accept!¡±

    To my surprise, an enchantment blazes on the far wall. Pounding footsteps are coming closer. The door is thrown open by two older acolytes with grim expressions. They quickly search out the two of us out and stomp over. ¡°A duel has been issued and accepted. Please, stay where you are as we wait for the dorm mother to mediate.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Dorm mother? I remember hearing that before. I suppose someone must be in charge of the students living at the Grand Hall. Some of the initiates aren¡¯t adults yet.

    With their intervention, Peter seems to calm down, his scowl fading as he puts on a carefully blank mask. Too bad, Pete. It¡¯s too late to backtrack now.

    It doesn¡¯t take long before someone else enters the room. I catch my breath as a woman dressed in a simple gray robe appears. I¡¯m around beautiful women everyday so I¡¯ve built up a bit of a tolerance, thank the saints, because if not, I definitely would embarrass myself.

    She is the ideal image of a noblewoman; delicate features like that of a doll, long hair like a waterfall of ink, and a lean figure with just enough curves despite being smothered by her humble clothes.

    Her head is held high but it isn¡¯t arrogant, simply confident. Each step holds the grace of a swan. If I couldn¡¯t see her feet on the ground, I¡¯d swear she was floating like that Aurelius bastard. Not to mention the mystery surrounding her because of her closed eyes. It doesn¡¯t seem to hinder her at all as she moves through the tables without pause. It makes me curious to what¡¯s beneath those fair eyelids.

    ¡°Peter Pottoculli. Lourianne Tome.¡± Oh, she¡¯s the owner of that beautiful voice. I want to hear it say my name again~ ¡°A duel has been initiated. According to the rules of the Grand Hall, a member of staff must mediate the situation. Lourianne Tome, as the lesser of the two combatants, priority is given to your statement. What is the reason for this duel?¡±

    ¡°He has insulted me and dealt the first strike.¡± The best part about this is that I¡¯m really the wronged party.

    She nods, a small dip of her head. ¡°Peter Pottoculli. How do you respond?¡±

    ¡°Every action I have taken is justified against someone of such inferior character. She has no business mixing with decent people. If it takes physical force to show her her place, then I will gladly do the job.¡±

    Another nod. ¡°I am obligated to inform you of the rules. Personal duels between initiates and acolytes are to be held on the dueling field between dorms. They must be overseen by two members of staff. A win is decided when one combatant can no longer fight or verbally surrenders. Do you wish to amend the rules?¡±

    ¡°Amend them?¡± I ask.

    ¡°The most common variant is the gentleman¡¯s bout, to first blood.¡±

    Like I¡¯ll let him off easy. ¡°Well, there are no gentlemen here so that¡¯s a no.¡±

    ¡°Watch what you say, perverted swine!¡±

    ¡°Then the rules shall remain the same. No matter the result, you shall accept the consequences. Even should they be fatal. Do you still both agree?¡±

    At the mention of fatal, his confidence shows the tiniest crack, or should I say, the tiniest furrow of his brow. It¡¯s one thing to have someone else handle the dirty jobs but it¡¯s something entirely different to face the possibility of death yourself. After all, no matter how incompetent of an image I showed them, he must realize he has no idea what I am capable of.

    ¡°I agree!¡± I shout.

    Heh. There¡¯s no way he can back down now without becoming a laughingstock.

    ¡°The outcome was decided from the start.¡±

    Suddenly, Bell hisses in my arms, baring her teeth at the dorm mother. If I weren¡¯t holding her tightly, she might have leaped at the woman.

    [This woman is attempting to enter your mind!]

    ¡°My apologies.¡± The dorm mother gives me another of her incremental nods. ¡°Entering one¡¯s mind without notice could be seen as rude but I did not think an initiate able to notice. I was simply confirming that neither individual was under a compulsion.¡±

    Haha. A damn dorm mother is a caster with a practiced mental affinity, skilled enough to read my mind without me noticing. This place is crazy.

    Thank the saints my Bell is so amazing. Not only did she catch the intrusion but her own work appears to have gone unnoticed.

    ¡°Then, since both individuals have accepted this challenge under their own volition, the duel between Lourianne Tome and Peter Pottoculli is sanctioned. The combatants shall meet on the dueling field between the dorms at seventh bell on the next Restday. No violence outside of sanctioned duels shall be permitted.¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re prepared, swine.¡± Peter sniffs and walks away.

    ¡°You won¡¯t have time to regret it,¡± I whisper, staring a hole in his back. Movement from the corner of my eye draws my attention. I quickly run to the door, reflexively shouting ¡°Wait!¡±

    The dorm mother moved so quickly I barely saw her. She pauses in the middle of the hallway, looking over her shoulder at me. ¡°You require something?¡±

    ¡°Um.¡± Wow. To think I thought I had some sort of immunity to pretty women by now. Laughable. ¡°I¡­just wanted to ask your name.¡±

    ¡°Umphrieltalia.¡± Her lips turn up in the tiniest smile I¡¯ve ever seen. ¡°Though most find it easier to call me Talia.¡±

    ¡°Miss Talia¡­¡± I¡¯ll have to practice saying the whole thing. ¡°Thank you for your assistance.¡±

    ¡°It is my duty. I hope you are prepared to see this through to whatever end it may have.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±

    ¡°Very little escapes my notice within these walls. And I know you are not half the fool you pretend to be, Lourianne Tome. I look forward to the conclusion of your play.¡±

    I stand there a little stupefied as she turns, fading away down the long hallway like a phantom. It takes a few moments for me to catch my breath after she¡¯s gone. Then I lift Bell so our eyes meet. ¡°Hey, Bell. Do you think I have a thing for older women?¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [Your appetites are bottomless. One of the many things I admire about you, my master~]

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. If Alana gave me the signal, I¡¯d be all over her in a moment. Come on. Let¡¯s head back.¡± My goal at the Gold Dorm is finished and it¡¯d be best to make myself scarce. The food is really good here though, as expected. I¡¯ll just take one more plate for the road.

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 40

    The next day, I¡¯m back at the Bronze Dorm. Ah, I missed these basic stools, bare wooden floors, and rowdy people. Those nobles exude their pretentiousness into the air. Makes it hard to breathe for us folk who can live without large sticks rammed up our backsides. I¡¯m looking forward to putting up my feet and relaxing but first¡ª

    ¡°You!¡±

    Abel jumps up from his seat as I approach. Huh. Knew he¡¯d be angry but this is a bit beyond my predictions. His whole face is flushed with anger. He looks ready to throttle me given half the chance.

    Lucky me. I won¡¯t have to spend days winding him up.

    ¡°Hey, guys.¡± I greet the rest of the table, taking my usual place beside Alana. Usual reactions. Marthe scowls at me, probably resenting my very existence, while the brothers ignore me at the first sign of trouble. ¡°Such a warm welcome. Knew you guys missed me.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me!¡± Abel comes around the table, towering over me with his hands balled into fists. ¡°How dare you think to threaten the young master!?¡±

    ¡°You really are a servant of that house. Is there some kind of practice among the Pottoculli family to stop me from enjoying my lunch?¡± I put down my spoon and stand up. ¡°And deception is also a well-practiced art amongst your lot, huh. What¡¯s with your twisted version of the story? Your young master is the one who threatened me. I was simply sticking up for myself against a brat with gold coins rattling around inside his head rather than a brain.¡±

    ¡°You stupid whore! You¡¯re just another loose woman trying to cling to his thigh¡ª¡±

    ¡°As if. Titles don¡¯t mean anything here. And even if they did, I¡¯d pick someone better than the third son of some random family. Never even heard the name Pot-o-crappy until recently.¡±

    I lean forward, lowering my voice to a level only Abel can hear. ¡°But everyone¡¯s going to know it soon. When Restday comes, I¡¯m going to beat your precious young master until he cries. My imp is going to piss on his shivering body before I toss him out of that ring like the trash he is.

    ¡°And when he¡¯s at home, licking his wounds while his reputation dies from the public shaming, who do you think he¡¯ll take his anger out on? Probably the ass-kissing little commoner who clings to his thigh so hard he¡¯s constantly getting slapped in the face by his tiny dick. Your future is over, you damn leech. I hope you enjoyed strutting about like you¡¯re worth anything, gutter scum.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°YOU BITCH!¡± Enraged, Abel grabs and throws the closest thing available, which happens to be a bowl of stew. I stiffen to keep from dodging, letting the lukewarm meal splash over me as the clay bowl hits my cheek. ¡°There is no need for the young master to dirty his hands with you! I¡¯ll kill you myself!¡±

    There is a brief lull in the surrounding noise as everyone hears his exclamation and then a surge of cheers, egging him on. Part two, spread awareness of my conflict with the Pottoculli family to the other acolytes, is complete. The more witnesses to our duel, the more of an impact it will have on both Peter, his family, and their faction at large. Even crushing Abel, while not as impactful, will have an effect.

    ¡°I ac¡ª¡±

    A hand grabs my arm. I look over as Alana stands up. Her glare is sharp enough to cut a man in two and I see Abel come up short. I¡¯ve checked on her in the mornings. Those thugs who tried to accost me have tried their games on her but she endured it all with her usual stoicism. I think she¡¯s happy for an easy target.

    ¡°Have you no shame?¡± she says, her voice easily cutting through the noise. ¡°You and your house are bastards, targeting a young woman like this. If you are so eager to fight, then I will gladly take up the challenge.¡±

    ¡°What? No.¡± Unlike me, Alana gives off every impression of being competent. Not willing to try your chances, huh? ¡°My grievances are with her.¡±

    ¡°Lou is my friend, so that means that your grievances are with me. Enough weaseling. If your offense is real, then prove it now.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re on the wrong side of this.¡± Unwilling to face her, he quickly walks away from the table. The crowd, fully engaged in the drama, presses in on him. He has to squeeze past the bodies as they shout obscenities and curses at him for being a coward, head bowed as he pushes through.

    Oof. This may be a bigger blow than simply getting kicked around. Won¡¯t be long before rumors like ¡®the Pottoculli family is full of cowards¡¯ starts circling around. ¡°Nice assist, Alana.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Though I can¡¯t help you this coming Restday.¡± She seems genuinely frustrated by that. You really are a knight, aren¡¯t you? The kind who doesn¡¯t need shiny armor to prove it. ¡°Are you going to be okay? After going this far, he will not show any mercy. There is still time to fix this.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you were going to trust me? This is all going according to plan. I¡¯m far more capable than I look.¡± I reach out and pat her shoulder. This is a great opportunity to go in for the hug but, dammit, I¡¯m covered in stew. I want to kick Abel¡¯s ass for the missed opportunity alone. ¡°Hey, Marthe. Make sure you show up. You¡¯ll get to see a noble beat into the ground.¡±

    The redhead grins at me. ¡°Heh. Maybe you aren¡¯t like that other trash. Looking forward to it, Lou.¡±

    ¡°You brothers as well.¡± Mike jumps when I address him. Saints, these two are skittish. ¡°Come see the show. Make sure to tell all of your friends.¡±

 Arc 3-Initiate-Part 41

    The day of my duel arrives.

    I don¡¯t know how one is supposed to be in the hours preceding a battle that will very much decide my future going forward but the mood of the house is rather cheerful. Kierra and I are having breakfast on our balcony, having taken to eating outside after her surprise dinner.

    ¡°What is your plan for this duel?¡± Rather than worry, her tone is full of excitement. ¡°If your goal is embarrassment, beating him with your bare hands is sure to break his ego but a weapon would be erring on the side of caution.¡±

    ¡°From what Mano has told me, Peter is a second-year acolyte, advanced water caster. That should put his mana coefficient between 150-250. Judging from the fact that he has been here for three years and an assistant teacher doesn¡¯t know him, he¡¯s probably on the lower end of those numbers. Not to mention he¡¯ll also be hindered by the field. No water means he¡¯ll have to conjure up water for his spells. That¡¯ll burn through that mana faster than a drunk emptying his mug.¡±

    I sigh. The clink of porcelain makes me look up. Geneva stands at my shoulder, passing over a cup of tea. ¡°Ah, thank you.¡± Really would prefer something stronger but got to keep sharp.

    ¡°Of course, that¡¯s assuming he¡¯ll only use his own abilities. He probably won¡¯t cover himself in artifacts for appearances sake but I¡¯ll wager anything he has a trump card or two hidden on his person. No, brawling is out. I¡¯m not confident enough to win without revealing a secret. The best thing is to let the succubi pummel him. I¡¯ll shoot an arrow into him, just to keep him on his toes.¡±

    ¡°The bow.¡± She smiles. ¡°Reminds me of our time in the forest. You¡¯ve grown so much from that shivering creature I found cowering in a tree. To think you would already be sowing discord amongst your peers.¡± Her face just screams pride. Such a battle freak but I love her anyway.

    I raise my teacup in a toast. ¡°It¡¯s only just begun. Here¡¯s to fun and chaos. Praise, Cosmo.¡±

    ¡°Praise, Cosmo?¡±

    ¡°I heard that¡¯s what people used to say while worshipping the old gods.¡± He¡¯s the one who changed my future and made all of this possible. If anyone deserves my adulation, it¡¯s that glorious, glossy elemental.

    ¡°Then praise, Cosmo.¡± I sip my tea, enjoying the beautiful morning.

    -

    My plan worked better than expected.

    With Geneva and Kierra at my sides and Bell in my arms, I make my way to the dueling field. Other students are still arriving and they cheer me on. Judging from their ages, it must be mainly initiates in the crowd. As expected, but I underestimated how many there are.

    That doesn¡¯t mean there aren¡¯t a decent amount of acolytes present. Really, all I¡¯d need to destroy him are a handful.

    The dueling field is as its name suggests, a circular field of manicured grass between the dorms. Simple wooden raised benches are placed around it for spectators. All of them are filled with curious onlookers, eager for the show.

    In the middle of the field is Peter. Oh, good for him. He looks prepared in his dark leathers, chest plate, and gauntlets. The armor pieces are most likely artifacts. Wow, such a surprise. He looks pretty confident, especially when he sees me.

    I can understand. Compared to him, I must look pretty unthreatening in a simple shirt and dark pants, both my quiver and bow hanging off my shoulders.

    Beside him is a welcome sight. Miss Talia, looking breathtaking in another simple robe of white, brilliant under the bright sun. What a treat, having her watch over this duel personally~

    Oh, and Aurelius is standing beside her but I¡¯m ignoring him to maintain my good mood.

    At the edge of the field, Kierra leaves me to proceed, her fingertips briefly tracing the back of my neck in encouragement as I step onto the grass. Peter¡¯s brows furrow as I stand across from him. ¡°What is this? This is meant to be a duel. Why are those creatures accompanying you?¡±

    ¡°You really are stupid. I¡¯m a summoner. What kind of summoner fights without her summons?¡±

    ¡°Damn right! Hahaha!¡±

    An especially loud cheer followed by hoots draw my attention to the crowd. I find Kristoff sitting rather close by. Heh, I told him about the duel, not really expecting him to come. Looks like he turned up and brought a few friends. Are they all summoners? I raise a fist and the cheering grows.

    Oh, comrades! I will win this for the glory of all summoners!

    ¡°A contracted elemental shares the mana of their summoner. As such, the elemental is a part of the summoner¡¯s strength and each contract is a representation of the summoner¡¯s skill, the same as any practiced spell or warrior¡¯s technique. Their presence is permitted,¡± Miss Talia carefully explains.

    Peter is looking really unsettled now but he quickly hides it with a scoff. ¡°It matters not. I will dispatch you and your little monsters.¡±

    Aurelius clears his throat. ¡°The duelists will take their space from each other. When the seventh bell strikes, combat will begin. As overseers, we will be here to ensure there is no outside influence. The match will only be stopped when one combatant is unable to fight or verbally surrenders. Now, to your places.¡±

    Following his direction, Peter and I stand fifteen feet apart. These duels might be rough for foundation acolytes who have to close the gap but I guess that much is expected at the center of magic. Besides, this is a distance easily covered by my bow.

    Giving her a quick kiss to the brow, I set Bell on the ground beside me. ¡°Who¡¯s my little killer, hm? You¡¯re going to destroy him, aren¡¯t you? Yes, you are!¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± She plays to the crowd, standing up and bearing her little fangs at him. He doesn¡¯t seem impressed. Idiot. Geneva, just as we discussed.

    [There is no need to worry. Toying with worms is a favorite past time of mine. Would you like to listen in?]

    Of course. Who would miss such a good show? I smile as I take hold of my bow. Finding my stance, one hand lightly rests on an arrow as I wait for the signal to strike.

    There is a long moment of everyone collectively holding their breath. Then¡­the sweet toll of the bell.

    Peter¡¯s eyes light up as he channels his mana, raising an arm. One of his gauntlets flares with an engraved enchantment briefly before bright lightning surges outward from his knuckles.

    At the same moment, Geneva moves in front of me, crossing her arms, and I notch my arrow. In the moment the lightning flares, I shut my eyes and fire, not needing my sight to hit a target standing still.

    The lightning hits Geneva, pushing her back a little by her own design but not getting past her. My arrow is similarly blocked, his chest plate flaring to life as the arrow is deflected. Air enchantment then.

    Tricky, tricky. They must all have stones on their insides to hide their purpose. Who knows what the other gauntlet does?

    Another fork of lightning is shot towards me but I¡¯m already moving. Staying constantly in motion as I fire off arrow after arrow. At his head. The further away from the artifact that wind barrier needs to extend, the more mana it¡¯ll take, I bet.

    Not to mention it¡¯s got to be unnerving seeing those points get so close before finally being deflected. I see him flinch more than once. His aim is absolutely terrible. The enchantment must shoot it on a straight trajectory, which means it relies on the wielder¡¯s skill to hit.

    Probably thought he didn¡¯t need more than that as the attack itself is incredibly fast. Far faster than me. Too bad he¡¯s holding his arm out and broadcasting exactly where it¡¯s going.

    Even if he could catch me, Geneva remains in front of me at all times, ready to receive any attack.

    Bell is closing in on him. Once she¡¯s close enough for him to notice, he brandishes his second gauntlet. It lights up and a wave of fire extends out in a circle around him. That¡¯s useful¡­except against his current opponent.

    Bell runs right through the flames, unhindered. Peter is clearly startled. He stumbles backwards and lashes out with his lightning gauntlet but another deflected arrow makes him flinch, throwing off his aim. Bell throws herself at him, her little fingers now tipped with dangerous claws.

    Like the arrows, she is deflected, but she anticipates it. Rather than backward, the angle she jumps at him makes the enchantment throws her upwards. Twisting her body, she swipes her claws downwards. The wall stops her again and she falls to the ground. The second she does, she runs through his legs, her tail wrapping around his ankle. She yanks and Peter falls with a startled yelp.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    He hastily throws another wave of fire at her. She could of course ignore it again but she dances away, circling around him. I lax my attacks, waiting until he gets back to his feet before firing again. Poor man¡¯s chest is heaving as each arrow is deflected. I¡¯ve got plenty more, something he realizes as well from his nervous twitches as he tries to decide which threat to focus on.

    [You¡¯ve messed up now, little boy.]

    His head whips around, trying to find the source of the voice. His inattention costs him. Bell runs at him again. This time when he throws the fire, she leaps right over it. Rather than throwing herself at him, she grabs onto him and climbs, rendering his enchantment useless. Her tail goes around his neck, choking him despite his attempts to claw her off.

    [What an ironic situation. You thought to lure my master into a duel to kill her off in an accident. Now, you¡¯re the one who¡¯s going to die in an accident. Haha! How do I know? You shouldn¡¯t hire such simpletons. They are not the most adept at keeping secrets. Ah, but you won¡¯t have a chance to learn from your mistakes.]

    With a growl, Bell twists her little body, showing off her incredible strength as Peter is twirled like a top. He hits the ground face first with Bell on his back. Using both hands, she raises his head up. I fire and he shuts his eyes as the enchantment deflects it.

    ¡°I¡ªgaggghh!¡±

    [Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s curious? The instructors were very clear that they would only recognize a verbal surrender. And I guess technically you still have the ability to fight, despite being completely overwhelmed. I think these duels are the Grand Hall¡¯s way of getting rid of undesirable trash. Trash like you. You can forget about one of them coming to save you. No one¡¯s going to save you. You¡¯re going to run out of mana and an arrow is going to pierce your skull. Be grateful you get a quick end.]

    The next deflected arrow makes him whimper.

    [Are you begging? How disgraceful. What kind of man is so eager to reap lives but turns into a wailing child in the face of death? You sealed your fate the moment you targeted my master. Know your place, insect!]

    [Hoh? Anything? What can you possibly offer that will make us suffer the inconvenience of leaving trash lying about? Gold? Status? Are those yours to offer? No. Waving around your family¡¯s possessions won¡¯t help you now. You have nothing. You are nothing. You¡¯ll die as nothing, remembered as a fool.]

    His eyes look upon me with true fear, silently pleading for his life. I coldly notch another arrow and fire it. Again. And again.

    [Hmph. Rejoice. My master has come to the conclusion that you aren¡¯t even worth killing. You want to know what you can offer? A confession of your crimes and an apology. The sincerest apology you can imagine. Dig deep, Peter Pottoculli. You only get one chance. Now, stand up!]

    With a loud cry, Peter struggles to get to his feet. Bell allows herself to be thrown off, rolling back to her feet.

    My opponent quickly backs away. Eyes bouncing between all of us, his chest heaves as he takes in quick, strained breaths. Sweat beads down the side of his head as his hands shake.

    Smirking, I lower my bow. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Pete? You already done? I won¡¯t mind if you surrender.¡±

    His lips tremble.

    [Then you die.]

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡±

    Peter quickly falls down to his knees, putting his head to the ground. ¡°Please forgive me for challenging you, Lady Tome! I p-p-plotted a-against you, t-t-trying to e-extort you for profit. W-when that f-f-failed I¡­I¡­¡± I can hear his sniffles from here. Praise Cosmo, this is better than I expected.

    [Don¡¯t forget your accomplice.]

    He takes a deep breath to collect himself before continuing. ¡°Lavern Newster told me that taking an advantage of your wife to form trade relations with the elven nation would lead to immeasurable fortune. It would be enough to finally catapult their family above the Guiness. As the one who initiated it, he could become the successor of his family and would support me to succeed my own.¡±

    ¡°Quiet, you damn fool!¡± Lavern stands up in the crowd, fists balled and face pale from fear. The nobles around him shy away from him, wanting nothing to do with the soon-to-be social pariah. The rest of the crowd jeers him, telling him to shut up. I agree. We need to hear the rest.

    [Speak quickly if you want to survive, worm.]

    ¡°At first, I didn¡¯t agree. The noble faction sees you as a threat. I heard my father talking about eliminating you to destroy the connection to the elven continent and stop the Guiness from expanding. I thought I could receive his recognition if I handled it myself! So, I sent an assassin after you, knowing it¡¯d be harder to get rid of you once you were in the Grand Hall!¡±

    ¡°That was you?¡± Surprise, surprise. I thought that had Lavern written all over it.

    [You lured her into a duel so you could kill her.]

    ¡°I baited you into accepting a duel so that I could kill you. I know my wrongs. Please, have mercy on me!¡±

    I want to give him a round of applause for such a marvelous performance. The crowd is hushed, many with their jaws dropped in shock. Not only has he publicly executed himself, but he¡¯s also doomed Lavern, the Newster family, and his own family.

    This doesn¡¯t quite give me the same fearsome reputation as killing him but my hands remain relatively clean, shielding me from vengeance, and everyone here will remember that the man who challenged me received a fate worse than death.

    [Surrender.]

    ¡°I surrender!¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, pal. Haha, it¡¯d be in bad taste to keep going at this point.¡±

    Miss Talia steps forward. ¡°Peter Pottoculli has surrendered. The winner of this duel is Lourianne Tome.¡±

    The summoners, led by Kristoff, give me a fierce round of applause, which spreads to the rest of the crowd. Except the nobles. Majority of them look a little sick. Probably imagining themselves in Peter¡¯s situation or lamenting their connection to him. I doubt he¡¯ll be staying at the Grand Hall after this but if he does, he¡¯s not going to have a pleasant time.

    But who cares about him? I won! Raising my bow to my comrades, I enjoy the moment. Bell comes running up to me, leaping into the air. I catch her and raise her high, getting more noise from the summoners.

    ¡°Quite the conclusion.¡±

    I lower Bell as Miss Talia comes to stand beside me. Still with that tiny smile. ¡°I had predicted this would end with you killing him. To think a noble son would so easily break down.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. Danger makes people do strange things, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Even lose all reason, such as forgetting he had the option of simply surrendering to escape it. Unless he didn¡¯t have the option. My knowledge of summoning is rather limited but I do believe all succubi have both the physical and mental affinity.¡±

    Before I even have the chance to feel anxious about her words, Geneva is at my side, reassuring me. Miss Talia also notices her appearance. ¡°It was only the beginning of this year that I was recognized as a higher adept. Not even the kingdom¡¯s Head Interrogator could ply his trade without me noticing. Yet, a mere thrall broke a man before my eyes without me feeling even a fluctuation.¡±

    Somehow, her eyes bore into me from behind her closed lids. Phew. My tolerance against beauties may be lacking but my tolerance against scary glares is real. You¡¯ve got quite a presence but it¡¯s nothing compared to Morgene Atainna, the dreaded mother-in-law.

    ¡°Don¡¯t really know about that. I¡¯m going to get going now. I¡¯ve got a bit of celebrating to do if you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t keep you. Be sure to visit the Gold Dorm more often.¡±

    ¡°You do have the best food¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not for food.¡± Reaching into a pocket I hadn¡¯t noticed, she removes a small medal. ¡°This is a personal token. It will allow you to come and go as you please through the Gold Dorm. I would like you to come and visit me. You and your¡­companion.¡±

    She¡¯s talking to me but her face is turned toward Geneva.

    She knows.

    No, that¡¯s impossible. If Bell couldn¡¯t be discovered, there¡¯s absolutely no chance she¡¯s seen through Geneva. She must suspect though. Is this an opportunity or another enemy?

    Reaching out, I clasp her extended hand but don¡¯t take the medal, stepping closer and bowing my head. ¡°And why would you want that?¡± I whisper. I stare up at her coldly, using her body to shield me. Trying to silence her here would be a pain but I don¡¯t need my secrets being spilled. ¡°Be honest with me, Miss Talia. Otherwise, you¡¯re going to break my heart, getting my hopes up.¡±

    She leans down as well. I can¡¯t stop my heart from beating harder as her eyes slowly open. Holy saints, they¡¯re inversed. The whites of the eyes are pitch black, her pupils white, and the iris a smoky gray.

    ¡°Those who come to the Grand Hall seek power above all else.¡±

    I swallow heavily. ¡°I thought it was to learn.¡±

    ¡°Knowledge is power when used correctly. Besides, my¡­instincts tell me that through you, I can obtain both.¡± She puts the medal in my hands, closing my fingers over it. ¡°Do consider my offer, Lourianne. There is much we can offer one another.¡±

    She closes her eyes again, releasing her spell on me as I take a deep breath. Another one of those tiny nods and she¡¯s on her way, leaving her token in my hand. I watch her as she goes to Aurelius, who is currently helping Peter to stand. ¡°Saints. Don¡¯t suppose you know what that was?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Geneva¡¯s tail whips behind her. ¡°How intriguing. And she sounds like a succubus with that attitude.¡±

    ¡°Oh, great.¡± I¡¯m a thousand times more nervous about meeting her now. I¡¯ll still considering going though.

    I mean, maybe.

    Probably.

    Sigh. Who am I kidding? I¡¯m going.

    The crowd is starting to thin out. Kierra is waiting on the edge of the field where I left her, smiling broadly. I skip over to her, shamelessly falling into her embrace. Still a little embarrassing but it¡¯s not quite as off-putting. I¡¯m slowly turning into a bigger and bigger deviant. ¡°How about it? Did I meet your expectations as your wife?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen a male squeal so loudly and pathetically since I was a girl.¡± She gives me a brief kiss, grinning that bloodthirsty grin of hers. ¡°It was beautiful.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, thank you. Now that this mess is handled, I¡¯m looking forward to enjoying the rest of my day off.¡±

    ¡°Then you should say your goodbyes quickly.¡± She looks over her shoulder. A small group has gathered a small distance away. Alana, Kristoff, and surprisingly both brothers along with Marthe.

    ¡°Be right back.¡± I move over to them quickly.

    ¡°Way to go!¡± Kristoff is the first to greet me and rather enthusiastically at that. ¡°Can¡¯t tell you how good it feels watching a summoner slap one of those elitist idiots around. And that imp of yours is awesome! Where¡¯s it from?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. We¡¯ll have to discuss it one of these days when I visit the Summoning Hall. Tonight, I¡¯m laying down and not going anywhere.¡± I turn to Marthe. ¡°Did you enjoy the show?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got some skill, noble.¡± Wow. I think this is the first time she¡¯s looked at me without hostility. ¡°You¡¯ve screwed yourself royally this time. None of them are going to want anything to do with you now that you¡¯ve embarrassed them so bad.¡±

    ¡°Pah. I¡¯m not missing much anyway.¡±

    ¡°Heh.¡±

    ¡°It was a good fight!¡± Mike practically yells. Looking at him, the boy is full of nervous energy. Hm? Saints give him guidance, is that¡­admiration I see in his eyes? No, no, kid. That¡¯s a terrible idea. I¡¯m the last person anyone should use as a role model.

    He always seemed more fearful of those with status than respectful like Abel. He might have enjoyed that as much as Marthe. Though his brother seems as unresponsive as always.

    ¡°Thanks, kid.¡±

    Last but not least, I turn my attention to Alana. My grin is unstoppable and feels a little too large. ¡°What¡¯d I tell you? You can count on me.¡±

    Her stoic expression doesn¡¯t break but her eyes are shining. ¡°Never doubted you, Lou. Go and celebrate with your wife. You deserve it.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Don¡¯t think you have to tell me twice. I¡¯ll see you all later.¡± Waving goodbye, I walk back to Kierra. Putting Bell on my shoulders, we walk away from the dueling field, arm in arm.

    Not a bad debut for my time at the Grand Hall.

    Not bad at all.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 1

    ¡°Whatever you do, don¡¯t drink the Devil Brine.¡±

    I grin as I deliver the warning to Alana, getting the expected glare. It¡¯s been half a year since I¡¯ve come to the Grand Hall. Spring has passed and summer lingers halfway through our initiate year. A benchmark I think is worth celebrating. With some effort, I convinced my best friend to join me in my merrymaking and dragged her down to Howie¡¯s bar in the Myriad Zone.

    The place is empty, as usual. The stranger dressed in a dark cloak sits in their place at the end of the bar and Louise, the unfriendly security who doubles as a barmaid, wanders about wiping tables for appearances¡¯ sake. Plenty of space for my small group consisting of myself, Alana, Geneva in her meek public persona, and my lovely Bell.

    No elf, sadly. As the Grand Hall becomes more accustomed to her presence, the more demands on her time flood in.

    Probably for the best. Alana is still uncomfortable around my wife, a mix of moving carefully around one of her instructors and a whole lot of not knowing what to make of Kierra, I think. Especially in informal settings. We¡¯re good friends but she can¡¯t bring herself to treat Kierra as a peer.

    As usual, she wears her light armor, quite tarnished after the abuse it¡¯s suffered after several months, and her blade at her hip. Not the attire I¡¯d pick for tavern hopping but really, I can¡¯t imagine her in anything else.

    I mean, I can, but she¡¯d probably try to remove my head if she knew about those thoughts.

    ¡°Hmph. You are trying to goad me into drinking some abomination, no doubt. It won¡¯t work.¡± Alana raises her chin. ¡°I agreed to this outing but a knight must retain their faculties in all situations.¡±

    Aw. What¡¯s the point if I don¡¯t get to see the normally unflappable knight-to-be blackout drunk?

    ¡°Yeah, Lou, you devil,¡± Howie says, polishing a mug behind the bar. The half-elf, half-goblinoid wears a sly smile. We had a rocky start but now, I can confidently say I¡¯m his most valued customer. Most likely because I¡¯m one of the few beings that won¡¯t die drinking his stronger brews and but I like to think we bonded over our appreciation of good drink.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go making more work for Louise. We both know one sip of anything off the shelves will have the girl puking her guts out and praying to the saints.¡±

    ¡°Of course, I know. My warning was sincere. I wouldn¡¯t want her to embarrass herself. You have to start the newbies out on something soft.¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a barrel of ale sourced from a local brewery. I wouldn¡¯t call the watered-down piss a real drink but it¡¯s easy on the senses. Maybe at some point, we can get some shroom juice down her.¡±

    I snickered at the name we¡¯d given the diluted Herbanacle concoction Maxine¡¯s family served in their hotels.

    Alana is not amused by our banter. ¡°I won¡¯t rise to such obvious provocations.¡±

    ¡°What provocations? I wouldn¡¯t let you drink it even if you wanted to. Here, Bell~¡± I lift the imp from my lap and place her on the counter. ¡°You can drink with me while the hero keeps her wits about her.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    I stifle another laugh as I see Alana¡¯s brows furrow with the frustration of having the small Bell be considered more capable than her, even in something like drinking. My friend, you have many virtues but pride is your indulgent character flaw. Now, she is weak. Finish her off, Howie.

    Someone would think my partner in manipulation can read my mind as he sets down several cups with perfect timing. The standard clay mugs for Geneva, Bell, and myself. Alana gets a special cup.

    The base of it is thinner, slowly widening towards the top. It can maybe hold a fifth of what our mugs can. That alone is bad enough but to add insult to injury, adorably small animals are painted in happy scenes with garishly bright colors. Saints, why does he even have this atrocious thing?

    Howie tops us off with a round of Herbanacle before pouring a tiny portion into Alana¡¯s cup. He mixes in a generous amount of water before pushing it toward her with a grin. ¡°There you go¡­kid.¡±

    She stares for a long moment. Then she lets out a deep sigh and pushes the cup away. ¡°Get me the same as them,¡± she says bitterly.

    Howie smiles triumphantly. ¡°Coming right up.¡±

    ¡°As for you.¡± She turns to me. Ah, you¡¯re going to embarrass me with such an intense gaze. ¡°Since you went through so much trouble initiating this contest, there better be proper stakes.¡±

    I snort in amusement. ¡°Stakes? Big words coming from the girl trying to reason her way into ordering water at a bar. Just because I¡¯m your friend, I¡¯ll give you the chance to back out with your dignity intact.¡±

    Her drink arrives and Alana raises her mug confidently. ¡°I grew up around knights. I know my way around liquor.¡±

    ¡°Please. I¡¯m married to an elf.¡± I copy her pose.

    ¡°When you retire first, then I will have you learn swordsmanship.¡±

    Ugh. That has been a common topic lately. I¡¯m stronger than the average initiate, both those aiming to be casters or knights. Alana thinks I¡¯m destined to be a melee fighter and I¡¯m wasting my potential. Of course, that¡¯s because she has no clue about my real potential.

    ¡°And when you pass out, you get to ask my wife for extra training.¡±

    Ha! Two can play this game.

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re evil.¡±

    ¡°We can call this off and enjoy a simple night out.¡± As if. I only offer because I know she¡¯ll reject me. This route is far more amusing.

    ¡°No. We will settle this. For the kingdom and the saints. Salute!¡± she proclaims before tilting her mug to her lips. I watch with wide eyes as she guzzles her drink, throat moving with her loud gulps.

    She doesn¡¯t stop till it¡¯s empty, slamming the mug down while wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face is flushed pink and I can¡¯t help thinking how cute she is as her features pinch from the burn.

    ¡°I may have underestimated you,¡± I admit.

    ¡°No backing out.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dare.¡± I raise my mug to my lips and the drinking contest begins.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 2

    An hour later, the two of us have relocated to one of the tables as I can¡¯t trust Alana not to slip off a stool. Heh. Lightweight talked big but four mugs were enough to put her down. I¡¯m on my seventh and I feel perfectly fine.

    ¡°Lou.¡± Geneva grabs my wrist. ¡°You¡¯re about to drink salt.¡±

    I blink. Oh. Not my cup.

    I put down the saltshaker and reach for my mug, the succubus snickering in the background. So, maybe I¡¯m not completely unscathed. After all, I faced Alana fairly with only my human constitution and this fleshy form has its limits.

    Across the table, Alana groans and raises her head from the table. Her blue eyes are narrowed and unfocused as she looks at me. ¡°I lost.¡±

    I bet I look smug right now. ¡°Yep.¡±

    Her forehead hits the table again and a muffled ¡°Degenerate,¡± reaches me. Hey, now. What is that supposed to mean? I am an upstanding citizen, at least these days. The degenerate is my wife.

    ¡°I tried to warn you.¡±

    She raises her head again. I have to exercise some serious self-control to not laugh and spew drink in her face at the exaggerated pout. Saints witness! If only I could capture this moment to show her later. The stoic knight-to-be would cringe so hard she¡¯d fold in two.

    ¡°Cheater.¡±

    ¡°No cheating. Just skills.¡±

    ¡°Debauched pleasure-hound. Scumbag. Immoral swine.¡±

    My smile slips a bit. I know she¡¯s drunk but this is kind of hurtful. Then again, if I was consigned to extra training with Kierra, I¡¯d want to hurt someone too. I should be understanding now.

    Or I could rub it in.

    ¡°And you¡¯re going to be an elf¡¯s punching bag, hehe.¡±

    With a shout, she jumps to her feet, sending her chair sprawling. She wobbles as a hand grabs the hilt of her sword. ¡°We will settle this with a duel!¡±

    ¡°Whoa!¡± I get to my feet with a lot less haste and finish my drink. Probably shouldn¡¯t be my highest priority but I wouldn¡¯t waste it like some cultureless heathen. ¡°I¡¯m really more of a lover than a fighter.¡± That¡¯s why I¡¯m a summoner.

    Alana manages to pull her sword free and immediately fumbles it. The weight ruins her balance and the sword slips from her fingers as she pitches forward. Seeing her stumble, I throw my arms out to catch her.

    Ugh. Not sure how but me trying to catch her ends up with the two of us crashing through the table, Alana landing on top of me atop a pile of broken furniture. A situation I¡¯d normally rejoice in but pieces of wood are digging into my back and the extra weight isn¡¯t helping.

    ¡°You¡¯re paying for that!¡± Howie shouts with more amusement than anger. I ignore him, anyway.

    Groaning, I wrap my arms around my friend and roll us off the pile of splinters.

    I end up on my back again. No, no, it¡¯s not a preference or anything. Coincidence, really.

    Geneva appears over me, wearing a knowing grin. ¡°Just give the goblin his gold,¡± I grumble, sending the temptress away. Bell scurries over and picks pieces of wood from my hair, little saint that she is.

    Mumbling brings my attention to Alana. ¡°Can¡¯t understand a word you¡¯re saying.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Said I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re so talented,¡± her muffled voice says louder.

    ¡°Hehe.¡±

    ¡°Even though you¡¯re a pervert.¡±

    Hey, now. I resent that. I¡¯d call it more a healthy libido and I keep it in the family. If I were a true degenerate, I¡¯d be trying to take advantage of the situation, which I won¡¯t. Thinking about it doesn¡¯t count or we¡¯d all be damned by the saints.

    ¡°You and that elf. You¡¯re strong, Lou. Got to make you a knight. Then we can fight together.¡±

    ¡°Hm? Who we fighting?¡±

    ¡°Going to push past the Bleak Peaks.¡± Her head suddenly pops up, eyes fierce if unfocused. ¡°Glory to Victory!¡± she suddenly shouts, drawing the few eyes at the bar. ¡°I¡¯ll show them! I¡¯ll be the first to make it past the Endless Snow, reach the northern coast, and bring back the heads of legendary manabeasts! And then¡­and then¡­¡±

    She loses strength and her head drops to my chest. ¡°Then they¡¯ll have to acknowledge me,¡± she whispers.

    I know I must be making a strange expression as I look down at my friend. She always seems so serious, unnaturally focused. From the sounds of it, her determination is rooted in her family.

    Why family? No one can drive another quite as mad as family can.

    Don¡¯t tell me they¡¯re taking advantage of this sweet girl?

    The thought makes me angrier than expected. I can turn a blind eye to many terrible things as the world is a terrible place. I, a complete innocent, was dragged off the road and stabbed for no good reason. I have no illusions about people.

    The only duties I hold myself to are taking care of my family, the one I¡¯ve created, becoming the most amazing caster the world has ever known, as anything else would just be an embarrassment, and spreading the knowledge of the most wonderfully glossy elemental in all the planes. Besides that, I don¡¯t much care.

    Alana doesn¡¯t reach the level of family but I can¡¯t ignore her. Not my friend who stands up for me without a second¡¯s hesitation and generally seems to want to make the world a better place. But that¡¯s for another day, when she¡¯s ready to confront the demons shadowing her.

    I put a hand on her hair, which is surprisingly soft. Once when I snuck into the local village, drunk of course, I stumbled onto a farm and found myself in a henhouse. I was surrounded by clucking chickens but there were also baby chicks with their soft, downy feathers. She reminds me of those baby birds.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you miserable saint candidate. I¡¯ll be your knight whenever you need it.¡±

    She makes a contented noise but doesn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Eh-hmm.¡±

    I look up to see Geneva standing over me again, tail whipping lazily, with a scowling barmaid at her shoulder carrying a broom. ¡°I hate to ruin your fun but Master does expect you back at a reasonable time and Louise would like to do her job.¡±

    ¡°Ah. A little help?¡±

    ¡°Of course, my summoner.¡±

    -

    I am not at all embarrassed being put on Geneva¡¯s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Being carried in her arms would have been worse and there¡¯s no chance of me walking on my own. With the crazy colors of the Myriad Zone and the drink working together, everything is a colorful haze. The journey home feels like a jaunt through a dream, especially with Bell on my back cooing a cheerful tune.

    When we arrive home, Nomad opens the doors. His role as the night steward fits his ghostly presence well. Even for his benefactor, he can only a muster a small nod before he¡¯s off wandering the dark halls of our home.

    Geneva has done wonders with his mannerisms. Before, he would¡¯ve just stared into oblivion until someone reminded him to close the door.

    I¡¯m carried to the bedroom, getting a glimpse of Kierra¡¯s silver hair beneath the covers before entering the bathroom.

    Bell hops off my back, presumably to fill the tub as I hear the water run. Geneva sets me down. Six globes of crimson fire suddenly appear throughout the room without a sign of her casting. The amount of control to hold six simultaneous spells and with such finesse¡­

    Eh, too drunk to grasp anything but the room is filled with pretty lights.

    In short order, she has me naked and soaking in the perfectly heated water. A part of me is anxious that she¡¯s going to take advantage of the situation, in the best way. The rest of me is beyond caring.

    All of me is surprised when she simply washes me.

    ¡°Please, Lou,¡± the succubus says with a small scoff. ¡°I don¡¯t need to take advantage of you. Such a thing is beneath me and would ruin our trust.¡± I sigh as the soft cloth in her hands goes across my chest. ¡°Relax. Entrust yourself to me.¡±

    ¡°Mmkay.¡± Probably going to go right back to being wary of her seductions in the morning but for now, it sounds like a great idea.

    I¡¯m almost asleep when I¡¯m carried out of the bath and slipped into bed. Long arms wrap around me and pull me close. ¡°I thought I¡¯d been abandoned tonight,¡± Kierra whispers with a sleepy smile.

    This is a great time to for a romantic one-liner. If only I could think of one. Best I can do is wiggle closer and bury my face in her chest with a sound of contentment. Luckily, my wife is the same kind of degenerate I am. She chuckles and rakes her nails across my scalp. ¡°Did you have fun?¡±

    ¡°Gonna be a knight.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Got your eye on a princess? Or perhaps a dragon?¡±

    ¡°A saint.¡±

    ¡°How daring.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± It doesn¡¯t take long to fall asleep listening to the steady beat of her heart.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 3

    I¡¯m awake early the next morning, bright-eyed and ready to work. An abnormal situation to be sure. I wouldn¡¯t normally be up so early, let alone after a night of drinking suspicious concoctions posing as liquor. However, these aren¡¯t normal circumstances.

    Now that I¡¯ve gotten some progress in my magic studies, Saintsday is reserved for Geneva¡¯s tutoring lessons. Not the informal conversations and demonstrations from before, no. She has a plan, a lesson-by-lesson guide to have me master my abilities. The first lesson? I do not miss Geneva¡¯s class. Period.

    There is no way to accurately describe having someone reach into your mind and turn your sleepy brain into a horse pawing at the ground in its eagerness to take off. It is as creepy as it is effective.

    The worst part is I can¡¯t bring myself to tell her not to do it as she¡¯s helping. But a feeling of¡­strangeness lingers for the rest of the day. Something¡­eh, no. Best not to think about it. The point is, I¡¯m never late, absent, or inattentive. Don¡¯t want her helping me in other ways.

    The first thing she decided to focus on is shapeshifting, since it¡¯s arguably my greatest talent and the easiest to develop.

    ¡°I¡¯ve drawn a few observations about your shapeshifting ability,¡± she says, tail slowly whipping back and forth. ¡°The first and most obvious, your shapeshifting is completely instinctual. However, the important part here is it is a physical reflex and not a mental one. As in, you cannot change forms at will but that body of yours can. To do so, your body must have knowledge of what it is mimicking, usually by ingesting it in some part.¡±

    Sigh. It would have been amazing if it were both a physical and mental boon. Geneva tested my ability by displaying groupings of numbers that represent saints know what manner of monstrosities from all the planes she¡¯s visited. Things far more interesting than a little wolf and a hawk. Unfortunately, the shapeshifting spells she uses as easily as breathing are so alien to me, the numbers and symbols make as much sense as the stars in the sky.

    ¡°Second, the reason why you¡¯re able to shapeshift multiple times despite your limited coefficient. That is again due to that miraculous body. It is not flesh and blood, but a physical manifestation of mana itself.¡± She hastily wipes away a bit of drool at the corner of her lips. Sorry, your attempt at maintaining your dignity has failed. I can still see the hungry look in your eyes.

    ¡°Eh-hm. Your body somehow transmutes matter into mana and then consumes its own mass to fuel its shifting. Which is truly remarkable. There are some forms even I cannot change into due to their sheer complexity but with a sample of the creature and enough mass, there is no form beyond your means.

    ¡°Lastly, your transformations are triggered, directed, and only limited to your thoughts. And this is where we will pick up.¡± Her tail whips faster. ¡°The area I would like you to focus on is chimera builds.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Huh?

    ¡°Mixing the traits of one form with another. Another thing you can do naturally.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you going to teach me?¡±

    ¡°Finesse and creativity, my summoner. You lack imagination. For example, it is obvious that a dusk hawk has better eyes than a human. However, did you think about replacing your nails with their harder talons? Or substituting their superior nerves for faster reflexes? Or perhaps mimicking the muscles of your troll form for greater power?¡±

    Again, huh?

    She chuckles at what must be a very confused expression on my face. ¡°At least you do not lack foresight, for obtaining me as your teacher was a very good decision.¡± Fire appears before her, taking the vague form of a person. ¡°Now that I have an understanding of the symbols and teaching methods of this plane, we can begin.¡±

    What begins is an in-depth lesson of the human body. Never knew we had so many parts. And the math behind even the smallest part is mind-bending. My opinion that Cosmo is a god is reinforced by the lesson. What else could solve spells that make me dizzy looking at them instinctively? Saints above.

    ¡°I want you to do something for me, Lou,¡± she says to me after my head is throbbing with new information. ¡°I want you to imagine your ideal form. The perfect you. What do you think that is?¡±

    The perfect me, huh. Hm. I¡¯m still most comfortable in my human skin. A small fear lives in the back of my mind that one day, I¡¯ll spend too long in another form and forget my own face. I¡¯m quite attached to it. ¡°I guess me but¡­better.¡±

    Geneva grins, her pink irises practically shining. ¡°Think deeper, Lou. You alone can truly be anything you want. For example¡­¡± Her tail comes around, waving in front of her face.

    ¡°¡­you want me to grow a tail?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m saying you could. And they are quite handy. Or perhaps¡ª¡± A squint at a sudden rush of air as two dark shapes sprout from her back. She throws out her new wings, the new appendages dark and leathery.

    ¡°Wings are a little much. I do have the air affinity.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d thought you¡¯d want to avoid any comparisons to Aurelius.¡± I immediately frown at his name, the bald bastard. Even his hair couldn¡¯t stand to be around him. ¡°And flight is very convenient.¡± With a shrugging motion the wings disappear. ¡°The point is to think outside of common sense, my summoner. Come on. If there was one trait you wished you had, what would it be?¡±

    Hm, I don¡¯t¡ªoh.

    ¡°I see you¡¯ve thought of something.¡± Her grin turns predatory as I my face flush, no doubt seeing what I¡¯m imagining.

    I find it difficult to imagine a wildly different version of me. After all, I grew up in this body and Kierra seems just fine with it. There is only one flaw, or more a shortcoming. Eh, maybe two. Both involve my wife and her¡­appetites.

    ¡°Could you, I don¡¯t know, make me smell like them? But, not as strong.¡± The other part of a troll I know she likes is easy but taking something¡¯s scent? I wouldn¡¯t know how to begin.

    ¡°Even better, my summoner. Rather than simply copying them, you could blend it together with your own scent. You can surpass them, become her only obsession.¡±

    ¡°¡­damn temptress.¡± How can I possibly refuse such a proposition?

    The two of us have our heads over a piece of paper with a series of numbers scribbled across it when we¡¯re interrupted by a pre-pubescent voice.

    ¡°Excuse me, Lady Tome.¡±

    I turn to see Earl standing in the doorway. He¡¯s really getting into the role of my steward, standing straight and proud in his uniform. A far cry from the dirty bandit I picked up off the road. Amazing what a little purpose and not having to worry about their next meal can do for someone.

    ¡°You have a visitor. A Miss Talia?¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 4

    I freeze. Normally, having someone like the dorm mother calling on me would make me giddy but¡­she gives me a bad feeling. The closest thing I can equate it to is someone going about their merry way when they spot a snake basking on a rock by the road. A beautiful snake with glittering scales that bewitches the watcher. You want to reach out to it, even though there¡¯s a very good chance that it¡¯s venomous. It¡¯s fine because it¡¯s sleeping and maybe it¡¯s harmless. Then it nicks your finger and the world goes black.

    I¡¯m not dumb enough to reach out.

    Earl easily reads my discomfort. ¡°Shall I send her away?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I practically shout. Saints, what would I look like turning her away? Can I even do that? I feel like there¡¯s a rule somewhere saying I can¡¯t.

    And maybe a tiny part of me wants to see her. A super tiny part that isn¡¯t going to make me do anything stupid. We can sit across from each other for a few minutes, have a nice conversation. Yeah, nothing wrong with that.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see her in the welcoming room. Geneva, could you¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    As she leaves, I take a moment to fuss with my appearance before following Earl to greet my guest.

    Miss Talia is seated on the corner of a couch, posed like a portrait. She wears her normal basic attire, this time a simple white dress with long sleeves, the extra fabric draped over her knees with her hands in her lap. Her eyes are closed but the moment I step into the room, she turns to me, her lips turning up at the corners. ¡°Lourianne. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d hardly turn you away.¡± Swallowing, I fight the urge to take a seat beside her and sit across from her instead. ¡°Though, I have to admit, I¡¯m a little surprised to see you.¡±

    ¡°Ah. This is rather forward, isn¡¯t it? Though I can hardly take all the blame.¡± She shifts forward, just a little, and leans toward me. Her face turns away as if to appear bashful. I say appear because there is no way she¡¯s actually embarrassed. It¡¯s like a dance, every move choreographed. It sends a shiver down my spine. Saints, this woman almost makes me as nervous as Geneva.

    Eh, not quite that bad. Bell, maybe, if she weren¡¯t so lovable.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been avoiding me.¡±

    ¡°Avoiding? Never. I, uh, haven¡¯t had much time for social visits. Being an initiate is tiring.¡±

    ¡°Not so tiring that you can¡¯t slip out for a drink, I see.¡±

    My eyes widen, jaw working uselessly. Oh, saints shield me, is she having me watched? Her eyes are closed but I can feel them digging into me.

    Then, as if the saints hear me praying, Geneva enters the room carrying a tray of tea, followed by my salvation.

    ¡°Visiting a colleague¡¯s home unannounced. Perhaps it is a human custom but where I¡¯m from, it is quite rude.¡± My wonderful wife strides into room, dropping down next to me and pinning Miss Talia with her gaze. ¡°Some would even call it¡­presumptuous.¡±

    With her arrival, the mood shifts. Before, I felt like I was surrounded by a thousand eyes, trying to decipher my every breath and twitch. Now, it feels like a storm as the two women size each other up, me safely in the eye of the fierce wills.

    Miss Talia is the first to break. She scoots back, shoulders coming down as she clears her throat. ¡°I apologize. I was a little¡­hasty.¡±

    ¡°It happens. My wife has inspired mania in myself many a time.¡±

    I flush. Jeez, this frickin¡¯ elf, always¡­actually, hm. Considering the company, it might not be a bad thing if she talks me up. As expected of the greatest deviant in my life, nice assist. Though, I feel I might be biting off more than I can chew with the dorm mother.

    There is a pause, one that Geneva spends pouring tea for everyone. I can feel Miss Talia¡¯s focus shift away from me to focus on the succubus who pays her no mind, standing behind my couch when she finishes. Kierra sips her tea without a worry, waiting for the dorm mother to make the first move.

    She does, letting out a large sigh. ¡°May I speak plainly? I know you are the key to furthering my mastery over the mental affinity and I desire your cooperation. I am willing to offer anything and everything for the opportunity. Which is why I am so¡­frustrated with your evasions.¡±

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    Each word makes me cringe into the couch. For such a lovely voice, it is laced with, dare I say it, a fanaticism that makes me want to throw her out, barricade the door, and bar the windows. Maybe throw up a few barrier spells for good measure. Would it be too offensive if I put the couch between us?

    A hand on my head pauses my mild panic, the familiar feeling of Kierra raking her nails over my scalp relaxing me. She chuckles. ¡°You¡¯re coming on a little strong, Umprieltalia. Let me clarify your situation for you. You want Lou to fulfill your deepest and dearest ambition and having absolutely nothing to offer.¡±

    ¡°I have¡ª¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡± I let out an embarrassing yelp as I¡¯m suddenly lifted onto Kierra¡¯s lap, her arms going around my waist. Hm. I want to complain about this. I mean, it¡¯s entirely unnecessary and I feel like a kid but on the other hand, I can feel her breasts pressing against my back and her warm breath tickles my ear as she puts her chin on my shoulder. Comfort or image? Hmm.

    No contest. I settle in without complaint.

    ¡°Tell me what you¡¯re going to offer.¡±

    I¡¯m sure everyone in the room can hear the unspoken ¡®that I can¡¯t¡¯ at the end of her sentence. Geneva from her giggles. Miss Talia definitely gets the message from the way her shoulders slump. For a woman whose every action is so controlled, this rather obvious display must speak to a great amount of emotion, I¡¯d guess a heavy mix of frustration and disappointment.

    It clutches at my heart. She¡¯s a little creepy and blunter than a blacksmith¡¯s hammer but I do like her. I have from the moment I heard that beautiful voice. The last thing I want is to make her sad. However, Kierra¡¯s got a point. One day, I¡¯m going to be incredibly powerful. Saints witness, I could accomplish quite a lot at my current level with Geneva and Bell. I shouldn¡¯t get into the habit of granting wishes just because someone has the voice of an angel and a pretty face.

    Honestly, where would it end?

    ¡­probably in a ridiculously large harem and general chaos. I don¡¯t want either of those.

    Maybe a tiny harem. Really tiny. Enough to count on one hand.

    Succubi don¡¯t count either.

    ¡°Then I suppose I must give up.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything like that. You give up too easily. If it were me, I would chase her down to the ends of the world if that were required for my supposed life ambition.¡±

    I crane my neck to look at my wife, who gives me an unrepentant smile. Ah, right. Kierra¡¯s definitely the crazier of the two, she¡¯s just good at hiding it. Damn, already married this one. And don¡¯t give my apparent stalker any more motivation!

    ¡°Perhaps I¡¯d be more determined if there wasn¡¯t a dragon guarding the treasure I¡¯m after.¡±

    ¡°Ahaha! This is the first time I¡¯ve been called a dragon. You at least know how to flatter someone.¡±

    Annnd, I¡¯ve been completely cut from the conversation. A conversation about me even. These two sound like they¡¯re enjoying themselves too. It¡¯s a much better atmosphere than the sea of tension when Kierra entered the room.

    ¡°Talia, ask yourself a question. What would make someone give away an incomparable treasure for absolutely no profit at all?¡±

    The dorm mother tilts her head in the most adorable expression of confusion I have ever seen. Extra points for being a grown woman doing her best impression of a toddler. ¡°That is completely illogical.¡±

    ¡°Affection. Tell me. In all this talk of trading and profit, have you ever considered being her friend?¡±

    Miss Talia¡¯s lips part the tiniest fraction. Her eyes don¡¯t pop in surprise but they shift back and forth behind her closed eyes. I feel her focus shifting between me and Kierra. ¡°I¡­didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°And why not?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have friends. Colleagues, partners, contacts. Not friends.¡±

    ¡­okay. Alright. Very good.

    Absolutely any resistance I might have had to this woman has been stripped away and shredded to ribbons. That hit right in the heart. Dammit, I want to hug her. The worst part is, she says those words without a hint of pain. Like reading the words from a book, she sounds like she¡¯s completely divorced from the topic.

    That only makes it sadder.

    ¡°I see. Then now is a good a time as any to make one.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°Hm. I would suggest accompanying her to that twilighter¡¯s bar. He pours a good drink and a little liquid courage will loosen that stiff spine of yours. A shopping trip. Or even a simple stroll. She¡¯s surprisingly romantic.¡±

    Yeah, we can do that. First round is on me. If we go to the market, I¡¯ll get Maxine to get her the ¡®we want Lou to connect us with the elves¡¯ discount. For something nice to wear, as I really want to see her in clothes that do her justice. Then we¡¯d¡ª

    Hey, wait a minute. Kierra¡¯s teaching her how to seduce me! What, I don¡¯t even know what to say to this.

    ¡°I wish I could take notes.¡±

    ¡°No matter. You can come to me. For example, I know she has a fascination with your voice, which I understand. With the right selection of material, you¡¯d have her eating out of your hand. Literally, if you want.¡±

    ¡°Truly?¡±

    Are you telling her to read lewd stuff to me? You¡­you¡­saints blessed genius. That is something to look forward to. I¡¯m not really a reader though. Ah, I wished I¡¯d known. I¡¯d have an entirely library dedicated to the subject.

    [My summoner, if you like, I have a wealth of poems and stories of the kind. I would be happy to share them with her. It would also give me some time to examine her more thoroughly.]

    You¡¯re too good for this world. Probably why I had to summon you here.

    ¡°Then¡­if it wouldn¡¯t be too presumptuous, might I invite myself to dinner? I¡­am enjoying our conversation and would like to speak with you more. Both of you. I will be sure to rein in my enthusiasm.¡±

    Is it possible for someone to flash a pleading gaze without the use of their eyes? Logic tells me no. Reality and my thumping heart tell me yes. How cold-hearted would I have to be to kick her out?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. What do you think, Lou?¡±

    Kierra grins at me. Damn you for knowing me so well.

    ¡°We¡¯d be happy to have you.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 5

    My group has come a long way. I remember plenty of the initiates being unprepared that first day, fidgeting as they tried to concentrate on their mana pools, and generally failing. Now, each of us are practiced in meditation, seated in neat rows, still as statues in the lotus position.

    The proud nobles didn¡¯t last long with their protests of refusing to sit, adopting more common clothes they didn¡¯t mind getting dirty. Even their egos had been cowled, likely being shaved down by the much larger personas they now brushed shoulders with, heh. Makes me think of how far I¡¯ve come myself. And there¡¯s a lot more to go.

    ¡°That¡¯s our time for today,¡± Mano announces, breaking the group¡¯s collective concentration. I¡¯m already alert, lounging in Geneva¡¯s lap. I¡¯ve had her rouse me from her magically induced meditative state a few minutes before the class ends. Why? To spy on the others, of course. Innocuously.

    I won¡¯t dig through people¡¯s head for an advantage but Geneva can read surface thoughts without even trying. It¡¯s amazing the kind of things that cross people¡¯s minds when they¡¯re relaxed. I think I know my peers at bit more intimately than they¡¯d like me too, hehe.

    ¡°Good work everyone. I¡¯ll see you again bright and early tomorrow morning.¡± He bows to the group, sparing me a look before he wanders amongst the others, hearing out their questions.

    Our instructor is a strange one. There are all types at the Grand Hall besides the obvious casters honing their magic. Having talked to the third-year acolyte, I understand that he is training to be one of the testers who help measure coefficients by manipulating the mana of others. An innocuous profession that takes years of study.

    Simple battle casting? No problem. Plenty of initiates can throw a fireball before they arrive. Manipulating mana is pure technique. After all, one mistake can leave a person cut off from their mana pool. Geneva tells me that it also has combat applications, but they¡¯re rather limited. No one is going to sit by and let anyone mess with their mana channels.

    For this limited skill, the man plans to spend the next five years as an acolyte. There is no limit to how long one can study at the Hall. Once you¡¯re accepted, as long as you pay your yearly fees, you can take any class being offered and have free access to all facilities.

    Eight years of study to learn a single skill. Mano looks a little unreliable with his long, flowing hair, bright skin that doesn¡¯t tan despite spending every day out under the sun, and easy smile but he¡¯s got dedication. And connections. I should invite him down to Howie¡¯s as he¡¯ll be around for quite a while.

    [Ah, are your tastes expanding, my summoner?]

    What? No!

    I glare at Geneva but she¡¯s immune to the look, knowing I won¡¯t back it up. Sigh, I really need to discipline her.

    The problem is, every time I think about it, she gets this look of anticipation in her eyes. I¡¯m three hundred percent sure that it will do absolutely nothing to stop her and will only compromise my crumbling morality.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll take my leave.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, thanks as always.¡± I watch Geneva walk off for a while, captivated by her swishing tail, before hurrying over to a scowling Alana. I loop our arms together. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? You should be excited.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a devil,¡± she grouses at me.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you can¡¯t handle your drink. I tried to warn you off it.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t mention that you exchanged your blood for liquor. I know knights who can¡¯t handle half as much as you. Some that can handle a lot more too but they¡¯re three times your size.¡±

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    ¡°Flatterer.¡±

    ¡°Not a compliment.¡±

    ¡°Are you looking forward to Foundation? Since it¡¯s Manaday, Kierra¡¯s bound to have some fresh horror ready to get us motivated for the week.¡±

    She shivers, no doubt remembering the bet to ask for special attention. ¡°A devil, I tell you.¡±

    I continue to needle her as we make our way to our next class, Magic Theory. I had high hopes for this but it turns out to be a study in the obvious. What? Earth mana is more heavily concentrated in the ground? Air mana in the sky? Water in the¡­water?

    Truly, the study of scholars.

    It is something called a prerequisite for another class called Advanced Magic Theory, a class Mano swears any competent caster needs to take. He has yet to give bad advice but I¡¯m not entirely convinced. Ah, well. I¡¯d prefer it to another year of Foundation. Too bad there¡¯s no way my wife will let me wheedle out of the next level of her torture.

    I needle Alana all the way to the field. Surprisingly, Kierra is already present along with her helpers. They are working on two separate projects; one group appears to be setting up an obstacle course while another group is setting up¡­a roasting spit?

    That can¡¯t be right but that¡¯s what it looks like. Two tall pillars of earth. Between them is a thinner earth pole that resembles a roasting spit. Her helpers are busy setting up firewood beneath it but I don¡¯t see any meat¡­

    No matter. I¡¯ve survived all of her schemes until now. And this time, I won¡¯t be alone.

    Grinning, I tug Alana, whose planted her feet, toward Kierra, enjoying her groans. My wife stops her conversation when she sees us. ¡°Oh, Lou. Coming so early. I knew you enjoyed our time together as much as I do.¡±

    ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t crave the undivided attention of the most beautiful woman in the world?¡±

    ¡°¡­the torture has driven you insane.¡±

    We both grin at Alana, Kierra chuckling. ¡°Torture? No, no. These are labors of love. But never mind that. You seem like you have something to tell me.¡±

    I nudge my friend forward with a shoulder. She scowls at me before letting out a deep breath. ¡°¡­I would appreciate¡­more training from you, teacher.¡±

    My elf raises one perfect eyebrow. Her eyes look between the two of us before her lips turn up in a sly grin. ¡°I see. You wish to deepen your friendship by enduring the same pains. Wonderful.¡± Heh. Alana really wants to deny that but she holds the words back with great effort. ¡°Of course, I will grant this request. Don¡¯t worry. When I am done with you, you will have nothing to fear from the so-called knights of this kingdom.¡±

    Alana is...a jumble of emotions right now. Her features are schooled into a blank mask but little twitches by her eyes give her away. Nothing overt but after dealing with masters like my wife and Geneva, she¡¯s¡­not quite as easy to read as a book, but it¡¯s close. She might be full of dread, for good reason, but she is also excited. She knows Kierra¡¯s strength. Being personally taught by her is as much of an opportunity as it is a sentence.

    More than she knows.

    I give my wife a discreet look that she meets. Wordless communication passes between us before I give a nod. She gives me a smile in return.

    I¡¯ve just affirmed that I want Alana to receive all of that extra support, including my wife¡¯s rare melding skills. A subtle boost. She¡¯ll turn the already talented knight-to-be into something feared across the entire continent. From our night out, it sounds like she has enemies to face. I¡¯m not averse to helping out.

    A cynical voice asks if this isn¡¯t the same as Miss Talia, granting people not a part of my immediate circle powerful boons.

    This clearly isn¡¯t the same. Alana¡¯s a future saint. Whether we remain the good friends that we are, I have no regrets empowering her to spread light and morality into the world. The saints know it needs it, coming from someone who came this close to being a victim of murder.

    One thing you notice. Plenty of people pray to the saints but very few emulate them.

    ¡°Time for the fun to start.¡±

    I look over my shoulder to see the rest of the initiates making their way to the field. These people don¡¯t resemble young casters in training. They look like seasoned warriors heading to a battlefield, a collection of grim frowns and hard eyes. Understandable. After the horrors they¡¯ve experienced, a few arrows and swords will hardly faze them. Prime material to be molded into defenders of the kingdom.

    At least, those that remain. Our group has shrunk to nearly half since spring, some using their influence to get transferred to a different group and some dropping out altogether. But those who remain are made of sterner stuff. A bit of a tradeoff for the rampant trauma amongst them, no doubt, but hey. They¡¯re still functioning.

    ¡°Come on.¡± Kierra turns us around and pushes us forward by the shoulders. Oh, her helpers have finished the obstacle course. Some wall climbing, rope to crawl under¡­is that a pit of snakes? Oh saints, why did he just cover that part of the course in ice? That¡¯s sadistic. They¡¯re doing something with the hurdles too¡­oh¡­fire. Haha. Got to love this elf.

    Sigh.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 6

    ¡°I¡­hate¡­you¡­Lou!¡±

    ¡°Ahaha! Save your breath, my friend!¡± I call back, swinging forward so that the fire heating my stomach is now on my back, feeling an even stronger burn in my abs.

    After the first round on the obstacle course, the other initiates are allowed to rest while Alana and I are enlightened to the purpose of my wife¡¯s new contraption. Turns out, it¡¯s exactly what I think it is. Just, rather than a pig, we are what¡¯s being cooked. We hang with the spit behind our knees, ropes tied around our legs keeping us in place. Then, with the assistance of one of her helpers with a fire affinity, she coaxes out a fire to the perfect height. If we relax, the tips of the flame will singe our heads.

    To escape being burned and the uncomfortable feeling of blood rushing to our heads, the roasts, the two of us, are forced to swing forward, crunching our abdomens. However, the heat is then focused on our backs and we¡¯re forced to swing the other way, an even more strenuous position.

    Again and again, until my muscles feel like they¡¯ll tear, the very real fear of burning to death propelling our efforts. And when we think we can¡¯t last another second, Kierra swoops in with a generous donation of her magic.

    Truly despicable. I expect nothing less from my elf.

    Poor Alana. She¡¯s attended my wife¡¯s lessons for months now but Kierra¡¯s training is like the Hellfire Realm. It has layers. We¡¯ve only reached the second. Haha, just wait until she starts with the third layer, interrogation and intimidation resistance. Great times.

    She¡¯s sweating buckets, body flush and chest heaving. Kierra had her remove the armor she always wears and the sweat makes her thin linen shirt cling to her, almost indecently. I¡¯d be lying if I claimed to not be enjoying the view.

    Got to take my pleasures where I can. That¡¯s the secret I¡¯ve learned for enduring my wife¡¯s attentions a long time ago.

    ¡°Three more minutes,¡± Kierra says, tapping us both. Her magic rushes through my body. Not healing but giving me a burst of energy that makes me think I can give the last spurt my best.

    ¡°Damn you both to the darkest abyss!¡± Alana screams.

    ¡°So lively. Should we go for five?¡±

    The blonde continues to howl out abuse and curses. Thankfully, Kierra keeps to her original word and after three minutes, she kicks dirt over the fire, snuffing it out. We both hang limply as she leaps to the top of the pillars and unties our bindings. I catch myself in a handstand as we fall, rolling back to my feet. Alana flops to the ground with a huff, followed by a long groan.

    I can¡¯t help it. I laugh.

    Her head rolls up as she glares at me with one eye. That look promises retribution. Haha, please. As if you¡¯ll have the energy. Threaten me again when you can stand up.

    ¡°You did good.¡± Kierra kneels down to and places a hand on her head. Alana visibly relaxes as the magic does it work. ¡°Go on and rest. Lou, you¡¯ll be going up again.¡±

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    ¡°No.¡± Alana valiantly raises her head. ¡°We¡­go together. I can do it.¡±

    This girl has a will of earth-affinity reinforced steel. Or the blood rushing to her head on and off for the past fifteen minutes has made her delirious.

    ¡°What a good soldier,¡± Kierra coos over her, equally impressed. ¡°Unfortunately, I¡¯ll have to stand in the way of your determination. The body can only be pushed so far. But don¡¯t worry. You will get your wish eventually.¡±

    Alana drops her head again, letting out another groan.

    -

    In a turnaround of recent events, Alana has to lean on me a bit to stay steady as we leave the field. I¡¯m tired myself but I think Kierra went easier on me at the end, knowing we¡¯d be in this predicament. No one can say she isn¡¯t compassionate, despite everything.

    ¡°Cheer up. Lunch is on me.¡±

    ¡°More torture,¡± Alana grumbles. ¡°Finally understand why you eat so much. I feel so weak.¡±

    You really don¡¯t. ¡°Not today. We¡¯re eating at the Gold Dorm.¡±

    She gives me a look. ¡°How exactly do you plan to get me in there?¡±

    ¡°I have my ways.¡± As in, I know the dorm mother in charge of the building. After dinner, which was rather nice if a little stilted since Miss Talia isn¡¯t one for small talk, I was again extended an open invitation. I¡¯m reasonably confident I can talk Alana in.

    ¡°Why am I not surprised. For someone so¡­simple and obvious in her desires, you are steeped in mystery, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Was that a compliment? Flatterer.¡±

    ¡°And you have a terrible habit of ignoring my insults.¡±

    ¡°I prefer to call it thinking optimistically.¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°Your optimistic thinking is going to get us in trouble. We wouldn¡¯t be welcome amongst the nobles normally but they¡¯re sure to be even more on guard. Ever since the Pottoculli incident.¡±

    Ah. My little show became quite the legend amongst the initiates. As I predicted, Peter wasn¡¯t long for the Grand Hall, disappearing in as little as two weeks. His friend Newster didn¡¯t last either. He stuck it out for two months but couldn¡¯t deal with being a social pariah amongst his peers. A resounding victory but the peerage wants nothing to do with me. I may as well be a walking plague.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them. Who would dare to get involved with me after that mess? We only need one person¡¯s permission and the rest of them can shove off. You faced Kierra¡¯s training head-on and asked for more. Are you telling me that you¡¯re scared of a few whispers and disapproving glares?¡±

    Her lips screw up in distaste or affront. Maybe both, heh.

    ¡°And are going to let a bunch of soft-handed gossip mongrels keep you from eating some of the best food I¡¯ve ever tasted?¡± It really is great. The only two sources that can compete are the foods in the capital, provided by the Guiness family, and Geneva¡¯s cooking. Honestly, there is nothing she can¡¯t do. I¡¯m convinced.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go, you harbinger of chaos.¡±

    Oh, I wish. Cosmo would be so proud. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡±

    The door is guarded by the usual acolytes, looking quite bored. They give us long looks as we approached, telling us with their eyes to turn away. I ignore them. ¡°Hi, there. I already know you don¡¯t think I¡¯m supposed to be here so go ahead and announce Lourianne Tome and a guest.¡±

    ¡°You should watch the way you talk to your betters,¡± one of them says, but he does pull out the clear ball from before. It lights up as he feeds his mana into it. ¡°Dorm mother, a Lourianne Tome is seeking permission to enter along with a guest.¡±

    ¡°Permission granted.¡±

    The response is immediate and very surprising from the shock of the questioner. He gives me a dubious look as he tucks the device away. There¡¯s clear reluctance as he opens the door for us, which I think is a little uncalled for. You¡¯re not even getting paid, relax.

    Alana shakes her head as we walk inside. ¡°I can¡¯t believe we just walked in.¡±

    ¡°What did you think we were going to do, sneak past everyone and this building¡¯s ridiculous wards? Please. It¡¯s all about connections.¡±

    ¡°I thought the Tome family was a disgraced house.¡±

    Ouch. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not disgraced. Just stick with me. We¡¯re going places. First of which is the dining room.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 7

    We, of course stick out in our sweaty linens amongst the nobles and their finery. I see some of you remember me. This is a little ridiculous, the way they cringe away like simply being near me is dangerous to their health. The future leaders of this country are a little pathetic.

    Alana ignores them as we sit at one of the more intimate tables, picking up a menu and scanning it with hungry eyes. A complete coincidence. I¡¯m not the one who decided to put the smaller tables in the corners where we are least likely to be disturbed. ¡°This kind of feels like a date,¡± I say over the top of my own menu. I¡¯m hiding my smile but I¡¯m sure my eyes give it away. Her frown is just too funny.

    ¡°You¡¯re married.¡±

    ¡°Love can¡¯t be contained by such a small word.¡±

    ¡°I would love to see what your wife would do to you if she knew you were planning to step out on her,¡± she says with a snort of amusement. If only you knew. But that¡¯s enough teasing her. I don¡¯t have any designs on my friend, unless she wants me to have them of course, so best not to make the atmosphere uncomfortable.

    ¡°We could have had something beautiful,¡± I say with an exaggerated sigh of regret, putting down my menu as I see a server approaching. The wannabe doormen could learn from this guy. He doesn¡¯t bat an eye at our state, addressing us with the utmost decorum.

    The food arrives and we dig in with relish, far more than those picking over the delicious food as a context for their social maneuvers. Honestly, these people should go through one of Kierra¡¯s lessons. Then they¡¯d appreciate what they have. Or hide themselves behind a locked door for the rest of their lives. Either would be an improvement to society in my opinion.

    Alana is clearly enjoying her lunch from the noises she makes, which I actively block from my mind, but I have to rub it in. ¡°See? Being with me has a few perks after all.¡±

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    She looks at her food, up to me, back to the food, and finally lets out a huff. ¡°You¡¯re not completely terrible, no.¡±

    ¡°Playing hard to get.¡±

    I chuckle, having a genuinely good time.

    [Master Lou, someone with negative intentions is heading toward you. Please be aware.]

    And something comes to ruin it. Of course, it does. At least I have some warning, my smile shrinking as I prepare myself for the threat I don¡¯t see. Bell, my silent guardian, you¡¯re a little molten saint.

    [Coo~]

    ¡°You dare to show your face here!¡±

    The voice is right above me when it shouts, hurting my ears a bit. Alana looks up and her eyes go wide. Good, good. Judging from the pitch of that voice, I¡¯m expecting a gorilla twice my size with enough facial hair to braid a carpet and biceps bigger than my head. Probably a noble from one of the knight families, one that was taught how to fight. Saw my display and is ready to salvage the honor of all Harvest nobility.

    Joke¡¯s on you, fool. You¡¯ll be embarrassed just as bad. Maybe worse since you have such obvious pride in your fighting ability to challenge me.

    I stand and turn to face my would-be challenger, full of confidence. And immediately freeze.

    The shouter is no gorilla, the powerful voice unsuited for his stature, being short for a man with me claiming an inch over him. His features are delicately handsome, with a weak chin attempting to hide behind a well-trimmed goatee. If his blemish-free cream-colored skin wasn¡¯t enough to give away his status as a royal, his clothes would; the vibrant colors, elaborate embroidery, and the shimmer of the fabric when he uncrosses his arms all speaking to the expense and rarity of his wardrobe.

    He sneers at me, one hand uncomfortably close to the hilt of the sword hanging on his waist. The five people behind him are just as visually impressive, but my intention is focused on my aggressor. Specifically, on his silver hair.

    Silver hair.

    I like to think that I¡¯ve changed from my many experiences. With the horrors I¡¯ve faced in the Enchanted Forest, the confidence I¡¯ve gained from destroying the Grimoires, and the strength I¡¯ve garnered while at the Hall, it takes a lot to shake me.

    However, I do have one weakness. Something I just can¡¯t, or rather, have absolutely no inclination to deal with it. A weakness that has suddenly appeared before me.

    A word rings in my mind. Royal.

    Oh, saints save me!

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 8

    The royal eyes me and I feel my skin crawl, heart pounding in my chest. My eyes dart to the sides, looking for an escape route but the crowd is already closing in, anticipating a good show. If the saints have any mercy, a stray spell will break down the wall behind me. I even give it a beseeching look.

    It remains standing, mocking me with its stillness.

    ¡°Lourianne Tome,¡± he says slowly, voice dripping with poison. ¡°With all the rumors flying around, I had thought you would be more¡­monstruous. A twisted creature with drool leaking from a crooked jaw and a body of overindulgence.¡± He chuckles humorlessly. ¡°Perhaps horns.¡±

    What you¡¯re describing isn¡¯t human anymore, you know? What the hell have people been saying about me?

    ¡°Though you are still just as repellent. Tracking dirt into our home and fouling the appetites of others with your horrid smell. Clearly, your father never bothered to teach you manners. What are the doormen doing? You should have never been allowed into the building. Shame on this room for not throwing you out. I¡¯m tempted to do it myself.¡±

    ¡°My prince,¡± one of the young men in his entourage says, stepping up to his side. He has dark hair, thank the saints, and wears the black and white suit reminiscent of a servant, just far fancier, but his dark eyes hold just as much disdain for me. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t waste your time with this¡­creature. It would stain your hands.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    What am I doing while these two denounce me to the level of worms, the whole room enjoying the verbal beating and adding to the atmosphere with their own toxic whispers? Why, I¡¯m doing absolutely nothing. Which is what I¡¯m going to continue doing. Maybe if I stand still long enough, they¡¯ll forget I¡¯m here.

    ¡°Nevertheless, this blight on our personage can¡¯t remain.¡± The prince steps forward. I step back and cringe away, bumping into the table and knocking a plate to the ground. The action draws a few laughs but I don¡¯t care. Idiots, I¡¯d like to see what you do with a hostile prince staring you down!

    ¡°Listen to me. Your actions haven¡¯t gone unnoticed. You may think yourself special because you broke that embarrassment Pottoculli but true nobles aren¡¯t so easily pushed around. You aren¡¯t wanted here. Continue to tread where you don¡¯t belong and you will gain my personal ire. Now, begone.¡±

    A chance! I don¡¯t waste any time, grabbing Alana¡¯s arm and yanking her out of her chair as I drag her with me. I don¡¯t stop until the Gold Dorm is far behind us. Alana pulls her arm free but I ignore her, wiping the sweat from my brow. ¡°Whew. That was close.¡±

    ¡°You are overreacting,¡± Alana says with a scowl. ¡°I hadn¡¯t finished.¡±

    Ah, that¡¯s why she¡¯s mad. ¡°Sorry about that. I owe you dinner sometime.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about that. What happened to you back there? You crumpled. As you said, as someone who¡¯ve endured that demon¡¯s lessons, you should be immune to those kinds of weak intimidation tactics.¡±

    I give her a look that questions her intelligence. Because I am questioning her intelligence. ¡°Did you see his silver hair? Do you know what that means?¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s royalty. That was kind of given away when the other one referred to him as ¡®my prince¡¯. Don¡¯t tell my you¡¯re the type to grovel before the crown. I don¡¯t believe it.¡±

    She scoffs. Scoffs! The audacity of this girl.

    ¡°The only things I grovel for are beautiful women and glossy elementals, thank you very much. However, I¡¯m not suicidal. You do not mess with royals. End of story.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re overreacting.¡±

    ¡°Oh, am I? Alright. Tell me this. Say I stand up to him. What happens?¡±

    Alana pauses. Seeing my serious expression, she gives the question some thought. ¡°I can¡¯t speak to his skill but that was a decent blade he carried. I¡¯d imagine as a prince and acolyte of the Hall, he knows how to use it and wouldn¡¯t shy away from a challenge.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. He would have escalated. That would lead to one of two things. Either he challenges me to a duel or tries a roundabout method of getting at me.¡± The words of a royal can move the country. No matter what the Hall says, titles matter. If the prince puts a bounty on me, real or not, my life becomes infinitely more complicated.

    ¡°Either way it¡¯s settled with a fight. You wouldn¡¯t lose to him, not with your thrall.¡±

    I shake my head. Saints protect her, I didn¡¯t know she was this na?ve. ¡°Alana, if I touch a hair on his head, I am beyond screwed. If I lose, I will no doubt suffer immense physical pain, poignant embarrassment, and will be in the exact same situation I am in right now.¡± Not to mention if he takes the opportunity to execute me, which I wouldn¡¯t put past nobility of any kind if your bruise their egos, I¡¯d be forced to reveal my secrets to survive.

    ¡°Winning would be even worse. I¡¯d be the one who beat the prince, the one who raised a blade against the royal family. People will talk. The king gets involved. One way or another, my life gets royally screwed!¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Alana holds up her hands in surrender and I notice my voice was steadily getting louder. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart. Just thinking about it has me ready to jump out of my skin. What terrible, terrible luck. ¡°I take your point. Might doesn¡¯t always make right.¡±

    Isn¡¯t that the truth. If all I cared about was staying alive, I could run away with Kierra to the elven continent, which is my backup plan in case anything becomes unfixable here. No one could stop us. But that comes with its own complications and wouldn¡¯t change the fact that I¡¯d be the most wanted woman in the kingdom. Especially if I dared to run away from a punishment handed down by the king.

    And what about my family? No way they escape the fallout. Oh saints, why did it have to be a royal?

    Maybe I am overreacting, but I can¡¯t help it. I¡¯ve heard farmers¡¯ wives yelling at disobedient children and their ¡®monsters¡¯ are the same. Don¡¯t wander off or a wolf will snatch you up. Lying children taste the best to nasty witches. Go to bed because ghosts wander in the night.

    My ¡®monsters¡¯ were high nobles. Remember your manners, Lou, or a higher noble will have you lashed in the street. Watch what you say Lou, or a high noble will destroy your family¡¯s reputation and turn you out on the street. Never raise your hand against a high noble or your whole family will be erased.

    Once I got a little older, I understood my father was exaggerating. Not in their reactions, they are certainly that vicious, but in urgency. Frankly, powerful people could care less about those below their social circles. My all-consuming fear of them abated but I can¡¯t help it if titles make me flinch.

    For me to act against the annoying prince, it would take an offense of great proportions. Otherwise, I am more than happy to be a verbal training dummy for a few minutes and dodge his attention.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Bell!¡± I can¡¯t help the relief as the imp dashes across the grass and leaps into my arms. I know she¡¯s always close enough to come to my aide and can slaughter everyone in the Gold Dorm, including Miss Talia, but I feel so much better holding her in my arms.

    I rub my face against her side. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re here. You won¡¯t let that nasty, silver-haired ape frame me for treason against the crown or some other nonsense, will you?¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [He deserves a thousand deaths for daring to threaten you. Luckily, we will not have to lift a hand as his compatriot is planning to kill him.]

    ¡­what?

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 9

    I pace in front of my bed, no doubt looking every bit as stressed as I feel. It can¡¯t be helped. The encounter with the prince and Bell¡¯s subsequent revelation has been weighing on my mind for the whole day. Once Kierra arrived, I convened a meeting of the family to figure out how to deal with it.

    Having barely enough time to walk through the door before being hit by my panic, my wife is in the process of undressing, a sight that would be more than a little distracting if I weren¡¯t busy being worried about the fate of the country. As she drops her sleeveless leather vest and crawls onto the bed, Geneva enters the room with a tray laden with slices of fruit, two glasses, and a silver pitcher.

    She expertly hops onto the bed while balancing her burden, taking her place besides Kierra and setting the tray between them. My wife chews on the snacks while Geneva pours drinks. Bell climbs onto the bed, eager to get in on the treats, but has to endure Kierra¡¯s attentions, letting my wife pat her smooth stone skin before she hands over a piece of fruit.

    The lack of tension in this room is playing havoc on my nerves. On the one hand, it¡¯s soothing. On the other, I¡¯m a little upset they aren¡¯t taking my concerns seriously. ¡°Okay. Bell, recount everything so we¡¯re all aware of the facts.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± The imp raises her head. [Master Lou, after I sensed the bad intentions of the prince, I scanned the rest of his group to evaluate any threats. The boy who spoke up stood out. He holds extreme enmity toward the prince along with great restraint.]

    ¡°So, you didn¡¯t see anything about a threat?¡±

    [Nothing direct. It is a conjecture based off my experience.]

    Her decades, maybe centuries of experience. My initial plan, denial, is a failure. On to the backup plan, avoidance.

    ¡°This is all very terrible for the prince but it has nothing to do with me. No one knows that I know. I just keep my head down and focus on my studies, let him deal with his own enemies.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure that is a good idea?¡±

    I look to Kierra, my eyes begging for her to keep whatever rationale she¡¯s about to spout to herself. She picks up an apple slice and bites into it with a loud crunch. I feel like it¡¯s my future she¡¯s chewing into mush.

    ¡°You could leave it alone and there is a chance that nothing will happen. However, think of the worst-case scenario. I¡¯m not sure about human nations but if someone were to kill a member of my family, it could lead to a blood feud or, if it were an outsider, a provincial war. What if something like that occurred because you let the prince die?¡±

    ¡°Civil war.¡± That¡¯s hard to argue with. Farewell, avoidance. I would have loved for you to stick around but it¡¯s not meant to be. That brings me to the dreaded final plan. Involvement.

    Sigh.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the end of the world.¡± Kierra accepts a glass of wine poured for her by Geneva. ¡°All you have to do is expose this assassin and I¡¯m sure the royal family will handle the rest. There could be a good reward in it for you.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Yes, a reward. And recognition. Lots of recognition from the royal family, who I want to never know I exist until I can level this continent with a single spell, and the people who want the prince dead.¡±

    Because there is no way this is a personal grudge. Even if someone hated him enough to kill him, which I can easily imagine, they wouldn¡¯t get far without the support of someone with serious power. This would-be assassin wouldn¡¯t believe strongly enough that he could kill a member of the royal family for Bell to pick up on it unless he is completely insane or has powerful support from people who will not be happy if I ruin their plans.

    ¡°No. The best scenario would be to make the prince aware of the danger without anyone knowing of my involvement.¡±

    ¡°If you like, I could simply plant a paranoia of his friend in his mind,¡± Geneva offers.

    ¡°A good idea but¡­if the prince suddenly changes personality, people are going to be suspicious. As in, Head Interrogator suspicious. If you¡¯re discovered¡­¡±

    ¡°No one will be able to detect me given time.¡±

    ¡°Time we may not have,¡± Kierra points out, extending her empty cup for the succubus to fill. ¡°What if the boy drops dead tomorrow? How much time would you need?¡±

    ¡°To be sure? More than a day. I would like at least two months, but people might become suspicious. A year or more and I could naturally have him thinking he¡¯s a dog if I wanted, the changes so slow and subtle no one would question anything.¡±

    ¡°A year? Really?¡±

    ¡°If you want me to be completely untraceable, yes. The mind is a delicate but powerful tool.¡±

    ¡°Ahhh, we¡¯re getting off track!¡± I shout, interrupting them. ¡°Just because we¡¯re getting involved doesn¡¯t mean I have to save him. I don¡¯t want to save him!¡± Hmph! Just because I won¡¯t speak up doesn¡¯t mean I forgive him. If he wasn¡¯t a royal, I¡¯d have taken him apart. Don¡¯t expect me to lift a hand if he¡¯s bleeding to death next to me. ¡°I just want to know what¡¯s going on. Figure out what is happening and the consequences before I go sticking my neck out for a royal.¡±

    Kierra nods. ¡°Solid reasoning. Now, you just have to investigate without being noticed.¡±

    ¡°I can be discreet. And I have a few connections. Mano came through for me last time in exchange for a favor. Better, Talia! He lives in her dorm. If anyone can give me information on the prince, it¡¯s her, and she¡¯s in the perfect position to shield me.¡±

    Yes, this can work. Once I¡¯m sure that pretty boy¡¯s death won¡¯t start a civil war, I can forget about this mess and get on with my life.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling better.¡±

    I give the insensitive elf a glare. Geneva, reading my thoughts no doubt, grabs the tray and vacates her place on the bed as I stalk forward, climbing onto the sheets. ¡°You could be a little nicer. I¡¯m really worried over here.¡±

    ¡°Yes, your infamous weakness for royals.¡± Kierra rolls away from me, setting her wineglass on a nightstand. Giving me a cold shoulder?

    I shamelessly crawl over to her, putting an arm around her waist and pressing my forehead against her shoulders. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t enjoy watching you quiver like a scared rabbit.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on. You know¡ª¡±

    She suddenly rolls us over, our eyes meeting as she smirks. ¡°I didn¡¯t say I didn¡¯t understand. I said I don¡¯t like it. I don¡¯t like the fact that a fangless little dog has the audacity to threaten you and your hands are tied. In the Dusk Province, one couldn¡¯t make threats they themselves can¡¯t enforce, no matter their station. It is frustrating.¡±

    Aww, she¡¯s mad for me. My heart flutters at the thought and I pull closer to her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve been dealing with his type for years. Just think of the day when kings and dragons alike will have to bow before us.¡± One day, I won¡¯t have to care what a princeling thinks of me.

    ¡°Perhaps we will have his skull as a trophy.¡±

    ¡°Um...sure?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps by the time kings are groveling at your feet, you will have gained an appreciation for elven culture.¡±

    I press my face into her prodigious chest, letting out a groan of contentment. This is culture. ¡°I appreciate every elven bit of you.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    I reluctantly extract myself from heaven and turn my head. Bell is staring at us intently, crouched like a stalking predator. Oh saints, she¡¯s giving me that look. The one that makes me really nervous.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 10

    ¡°Mm. There¡¯s an idea.¡± Dammit, now Kierra¡¯s giving me a similar look combined with one of her vicious smiles. I don¡¯t like where this is heading but the slowly accumulating dread isn¡¯t enough to make me break away as Kierra moves off me and waves Bell forward.

    The imp stalks forward, tail swishing behind her. Right before she reaches me, her form starts to change. It¡¯s not as headache-inducing as Geneva¡¯s transformations, but I still shut my eyes. A touch on my cheek makes them flutter open and a woman of stone is crouched over me.

    ¡°How cruel, Master Lou,¡± Bell whispers in that deep alto completely opposite from my cooing imp. Her lips press together in a pout. ¡°Don¡¯t leave me out of the fun. I¡¯ve been good, haven¡¯t I? I¡¯m your little saint, aren¡¯t I?¡±

    Not so little now. I swallow heavily as her glowing eyes bear down on me. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I want to be closer to you.¡± Stone fingers work at my pants, pulling them down and tossing them aside. My shirt comes off next, her hand leaving trails of fire across my skin. It¡¯s a pleasant heat, similar to bathing in the sun.

    ¡°Closer.¡± I feel a nervous flutter in my belly as she works on my underwear, disposing of them in short order, and sigh as she presses our bodies together. ¡°Would you like that?¡± she whispers against my lips.

    ¡°Mm.¡± Saints, she¡¯s comfortable. She¡¯s lulling me to sleep with her body heat alone but I¡¯m jolted back to wakefulness as she kisses me. I don¡¯t understand how she can look the way she does and still feel as soft as she does. Her tongue snakes between my lips, playing with my own with languid strokes. She tastes like smoke, which sounds ridiculous even while I¡¯m thinking it, but it¡¯s the first word that comes to mind.

    I could just melt into her.

    ¡°This is why I love coming to this realm,¡± she murmurs as she pulls away, tracing her lips down my neck. ¡°The females here are so sublime and you are such a wonderful specimen. Strong, but still so soft. The little sounds you make. I want more.¡±

    Her hands follow her desires, roaming all over. I moan and jump in her grip but there¡¯s nowhere to go. I push on her to get her to move faster but she ignores me, going at her own torturously slow pace. Is she trying to drive me mad? ¡°Dammit, Bell.¡±

    She groans in response, preoccupied kissing her way down my stomach. My heart thumps hard in my chest as I feel her breath on my clit but my hopes fall when she skips over the goal and runs her tongue on my thigh, licking up the signs of my arousal.

    ¡°Oh, come on¡­¡± What is with the women I sleep with and teasing me? I swear, I¡¯m¡­wait a minute. I¡¯ve already been through this. I know what she wants me to do. ¡°Bell, that¡¯s enough playing around.¡±

    She lifts her head and crawls up to kiss me again. I let her have her way for a few breathless moments before pulling her away by one of her horns. ¡°You¡¯re the one who wanted this. Get on with it.¡± Hehe. I think I channeled my inner elf for a moment. Didn¡¯t sound at all like a quivering girl so desperate to get off she¡¯s this close to doing it herself.

    ¡°Yes.¡± She pulls my legs apart, forcing them around her waist. ¡°I want to feel more of you. All of you.¡±

    Her thigh presses against my center and I grind into it thoughtlessly, the delicious friction only stoking the fire in my belly. I know she¡¯s excited as well as she feels hotter than before, hands grabbing me by the waist to move me against her as she rocks her hips.

    It doesn¡¯t take long before I reach the limit of what I can stand. I open my mouth to end her stalling¡­and the words slip away as I look at her. More precisely, what exactly is rubbing up against me.

    I don¡¯t have a lot of intimate knowledge of men but I know what it looks like when they¡¯re aroused. Some people lose all control when they¡¯re drunk and I¡¯ve got my own experience pleasing my wife to draw on. So, I know what that is. I¡¯m just surprised to see it where it is, right now.

    Though, as expected of shapeshifting masters, it¡¯s a flawless transformation. The shapely form of a woman flows easily into the erect cock between her legs, orange-red molten lines of fire running along it mimicking veins, all beautiful black stone. Damn, don¡¯t tell me she wants to put that thing inside me? I¡¯ve never¡­would it even fit? Saints shield me. ¡°Bell¡ª¡±

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t.¡± My attention is drawn to the side to find Kierra lounging on the bed, head resting on a hand as she snacks of a slice of apple. Geneva is standing by her side of the bed, wearing a smile with a tray in hand.

    My wife bops my nose with a finger. ¡°Let her have her way. You¡¯ll both get what you want.¡±

    ¡°I can personally attest to her ability, if you¡¯re worried about that,¡± Geneva adds.

    While I do want to know what you mean by personally attest, that is not helping! ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to pretend you don¡¯t want it. Your excitement is practically choking us.¡±

    Keep your nose to yourself, elf! It¡¯s not my fault. My brain is doing somersaults about this whole situation but my body is having no such compunctions. It wants satisfaction, no matter the form. I¡¯m not really opposed to it. It¡¯s Bell. My lovable little imp. A damn succubus, masters at manipulating lust.

    It¡¯s just¡­so sudden. Just like that? Right here, in broad daylight with an audience of two? We were having a normal, if tense, conversation and a few minutes later, I¡¯m losing my virginity of a kind. Shouldn¡¯t there be, I don¡¯t know, some kind of theatre about this? Where¡¯s the candlelit room and bed covered in flower petals? This is¡­I can¡¯t¡ª

    ¡°Should we put it like this?¡± Kierra says, cutting into my thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s more amusing this way.¡±

    For you, maybe! And that is a great argument, bringing in the decree of my divine father. Why does she have to be so devious?

    ¡°And look at Bell,¡± Geneva adds. Why are you two teaming up on me? It¡¯s not fair. ¡°Poor girl is practically drooling over you. Didn¡¯t I tell you? She¡¯s always been more of a giver and that bastard Gordon Grimoire Senior made her abstain. She has waited for this for years. Isn¡¯t she your favorite? Besides Master, of course.¡±

    Ugh. You are evil. Using both my hatred for Gordon Senior and my affection for Bell at the same time. I look at Bell. She has been grinding herself against me this whole time, eyes shut, her face a study of control. She¡¯s not pushing for it herself, letting me decide. Even though she could seduce me easily.

    ¡­screw it. My first time with Kierra was in a saints be damned tree on top of an animal pelt and I regret nothing. ¡°Okay,¡± I say, my voice coming out a bit shaky despite my best efforts.

    Bell freezes like a statue, heh. And then she smiles. A smile that eases all my worries. Aw, you¡¯re just a big softy.

    Damn, not every part of her is soft. I gasp as she pushes into me. Slowly, eyes glued to my face to watch for any reaction.

    I¡¯m not really prepared for this. I¡¯ve never been attracted to the hairy sex and I didn¡¯t have any female friends to gossip with about this. I know the basics but my mental image of this event is weak, practically nonexistent.

    I¡¯ve heard it¡¯s supposed to hurt. It does, but¡­it¡¯s not too bad. It aches a little when she pushes deeper but Bell sees it before I say a word, pausing to let me get used to the feeling. Just when I get accustomed to the ache, she moves again. Claiming each inch until she bottoms out with a heavy sigh.

    This is still a bit uncomfortable but not unpleasant, I guess? I can say having her in me, this feeling of being filled and stretched¡­that¡¯s not bad at all. And there are little twinges of pleasure as my walls squeeze the hot pseudo-flesh.

    Bell leans down, my legs crossing over her lower back as she plants her hands on either side of me. A deep, shuddering breath. Then she pulls out and thrusts back in.

    ¡°Hgn!¡± A strange sound comes out of me, something like a strangled moan as what I want to call pleasure mixes with my discomfort. She does it again and again, starting a slow rhythm. The discomfort starts to fade and pleasure increases. It starts to feel good.

    It starts to feel really good.

    Kierra has magical hands, literally, and has finger-fucked me into oblivion more than once, but this feels different. Places in me that have never been touched are being stroked and it¡¯s causing a whole different brand of pleasure. An electrifying kind that arcs it as it spreads to the rest of my body, making me twitch and shudder as I lose control of my body. And the more I start to enjoy it, the faster she thrusts into me.

    Faster and harder, the strength of her pumping hips forcing me into the bed. ¡°You¡¯re so tight, Lou,¡± Bell rumbles over me. ¡°So wet and warm. I could fuck you forever.¡±

    ¡°Aaahhhh¡­haahhh¡­mmhmm¡­¡±

    Damn. I can only speak in moans apparently.

    ¡°More.¡± She pauses, shifting between my legs. ¡°Deeper.¡±

    I can¡¯t see what she¡¯s doing but I can feel it. The next time she moves within me, I throw my head back as my toes curl. The pressure that was slowly building in me starts to intensify. ¡°B-Bell, aah, aaaahh¡¯m gonna¡ª¡±

    She quiets me with a kiss, fucking me with abandon. I can tell how much she¡¯s enjoying this from the way she pants in the brief moments our lips part. Her eyes are pits of fire and she never closes them, refusing to miss one moment of what she¡¯s doing to me. She won¡¯t have much more to see. My legs are shaking with the urge to hold back the inevitable but it¡¯s a battle I¡¯m losing.

    A wave of pleasure rises up and pulls me under. For a moment, everything is tense, my breath stilling as my fingers dig into her shoulders. Then I come undone with a long, languid moan, shivers wracking me from head to toe. At the same time, I can feel a heat spreading through me as the virtue bottoms out with a groan. Oh, saints, she just¡ª

    ¡°Ooooooh, yes.¡± Bell rises above me. ¡°That¡¯s it. Feeling them squeeze and pull on me as they lose all reason. To watch my own master fall to their desire¡­there is no pleasure like it.¡±

    Ah. I think she may be saying some dangerous things¡­mm, nope. Worry about that later. My eyes are half-shut as I feel her moving me, hands grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up. They snap open as she thrusts into me forcefully. ¡°Hngh!?¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t finished yet.¡± Huh? Who is this devil and where is my sweet Bell? ¡°I¡¯ve seen you with the elf. You can take more. Much more.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 11

    ¡°Good morning, Lou, Geo,¡± says Mano with his usual short bow, palms pressed together. Can¡¯t manage much else, seated on the grass. ¡°I see you have another tagalong.¡±

    I grip Bell tighter, the imp¡¯s tail swinging back and forth. After yesterday, eh-hm, things have been¡­different. I can¡¯t see my lovable pet virtue in the same way but we¡¯ve also gotten closer. In more ways than one¡­

    Dammit, I¡¯m thinking about it again.

    ¡°Coo~¡± [Feeling you beneath me is only a little sweeter than hearing you relive it again and again.]

    Hush, you! Little devil specifically asked to tag along because she knows holding onto her will remind me throughout the day. Used those big eyes I can¡¯t say no to. Sigh. I thought I only had to worry about Geneva corrupting me. Bell is an ambush predator of incredible prowess. A shearsheep disguising itself amongst innocent sheep, eating the helpless creatures unaware of the danger lurking amongst them.

    Bell squirms in my arms with a little happy grin. What are you so happy about? I¡¯m not complimenting you!

    ¡°Never mind her. I wanted to ask you a question.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Anything for my good friend and pupil.¡± His eyes cut to Geneva, reminding me of our agreement. Good friend my behind.

    ¡°A prince accosted me the other day.¡± My shoulders slump just thinking about it, dampening my good mood. ¡°Can¡¯t imagine there are many of those running about.¡± How incredibly unfair would it be if there were? Dealing with one is enough to make me almost sick with stress. Is it bad I don¡¯t know the size of the royal family and can¡¯t answer my own question? Probably. ¡°A touch shorter than me, dresses to impress, ego the size of a dragon. Hates my guts.¡±

    ¡°Getting involved with royalty is a dangerous thing.¡± His voice contains a warning but his face doesn¡¯t flinch. Hm. Either that meditation has numbed his reactions or Mano is made of sterner stuff than I thought. Maybe I should keep an eye on him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t I know it. I¡¯m trying to find a way to get him away from me.¡±

    ¡°What have you done to draw his ire?¡±

    ¡°Exist?¡± I run my hand through my short hair. A few months back, I finally took the plunge and cut it to my ears, leaving the bangs longer. At the beginning, I couldn¡¯t stop running a hand through the short locks, amazed by the difference as I¡¯d never had it shorter than my shoulders. It¡¯s something of a nervous tick now, my hand finding its way to my head in an effort to use some of the nervous energy making me twitch.

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    ¡°He seems to be focused on the duel with Peter Pottoculli. I¡¯m an embarrassment to the peerage, I suppose, though I doubt it¡¯s that simple.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± I scoff. As if a prince cares about a minor noble, a spare who wouldn¡¯t inherit his house at that. No, my duel is a convenient excuse for him to make a statement, I¡¯d guess. Or there is some greater plan in motion, an option I can¡¯t dismiss. Nobles are creatures of treachery. ¡°Which is why I don¡¯t want to walk blindly into this.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Asking about a prince is a sure way to get noticed and that could be problematic for me.¡± He chuckles. His laugh is the one thing I don¡¯t like about my young teacher. Mano is amicable and pleasant to be around. However, that is all he is.

    I have never seen him angry, sad, or frustrated, no matter what our group of ignorant initiates have put him through. He doesn¡¯t flinch at threats, flattery only nets a polite smile, a few poorly executed attempts at flirting simply rolled off him. The only time I¡¯ve seen a change in his demeanor was when he saw Geneva¡¯s ability to assist my meditation and only that once. He wears a pleasant mask but there¡¯s no telling what lurks beneath it. Geneva¡¯s offered to go diving into his mind but I turn her down whenever she brings it up.

    It¡¯s a temptation but I¡¯ll stick to my morals. Wanton use of the mental affinity is despicable. People have the right to their minds. I have heard too many horror stories from my family about how the Grimoires abused their elementals, not to mention from the succubi themselves, to ever treat that ability lightly. Not to mention, I don¡¯t want to know. Something tells me that if I discover Mano¡¯s secrets, I wouldn¡¯t be able to look at him the same.

    ¡°It would be a costly favor to ask.¡±

    Hey, I¡¯m still debating whether I want to involve myself in this. Certainly not sure enough to sell off Geneva. I didn¡¯t like the look in his eye when he said the word ¡®costly¡¯. ¡°That¡¯s fine. Nothing to stick your neck out for. Either of our necks actually.¡±

    ¡°Hm. There is one thing I can offer you in good will. As I do not know anything on the prince¡¯s abilities, he is not notable within the Grand Hall for his abilities. Given your display against Peter Pottoculli, you at least do not have to fear a physical confrontation.¡±

    Unless he uses some ancient royal artifact discovered by the kingdom¡¯s founder or whose creation was funded through their generations of wealth. Or he uses his authority to send someone after than me far stronger than he is. Or he foregoes trying to catch me in the Grand Hall and ambushes me while I¡¯m in Quest. Does this mean I can¡¯t visit Howie¡¯s bar until I settle things with this prince? I hate royals! ¡°Thank you. Hopefully, this whole thing will pass by.¡±

    ¡°We can only hope. Join me for a little early morning meditation?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± Though I doubt anything can calm my mind.  As I settle myself on Geneva¡¯s lap, Bell curling up on my stomach, my mind is haunted by silver-haired demons watching me with mocking eyes.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 12

    ¡°Ah. Alana, Lou. This way.¡±

    The moment we arrive, Kierra beckons us away from the gathering group of initiates to a part of the field where a plush chair is seated before a square carved into the dirt. The square is divided into smaller squares, four by four, with each one numbered. What kind of monstrous exercise is she planning now?

    ¡°Here, sit down.¡± Hmph. You want me to lower my guard with comfort. I¡¯ve fallen for that trick before. ¡°Alana, you stand in the middle of the square. The rules are very simple. Lou, you pick a limb, then a number to place it. Alana, you have to find a pose where you can follow the direction without disobeying any previous directions and hold the stretch for thirty seconds. Rinse and repeat. Have fun.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± I give her a narrowed-eyed look. She was honestly about to walk off right now. Is she serious? ¡°I¡­just have to sit here?¡±

    She gives me a soft smile, a saint of kindness. ¡°You relax. Yesterday was¡­quite an ordeal.¡±

    I shiver, as she brings back the memories. ¡°But I¡¯ve been healed though?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s still a bit much for the mind to digest. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be back to pushing you tomorrow. Maybe in a few new ways.¡± Her smile shifts to her usual smirk before she walks off with a little extra swing to her hips. Eyes peeled to her backside, my mind goes down a strange path as it tries to puzzle out what she meant by that last comment. Surely, she doesn¡¯t plan on¡­no, no. Oh, saints protect me!

    In my lap, Bell does another round of happy squirming, no doubt enjoying the dark¡­and delicious places my wife¡¯s words just took me. I squeeze her little harder. This is all your fault, you little¡ª

    ¡°Eh-hem.¡± I look up to Alana. ¡°Are we going to start? Teacher seems to be in a forgiving mood but I rather not push it.¡±

    ¡°Uh, right. I guess¡­right hand, 3?¡±

    Alana crouches down to fulfill the direction. I wait thirty seconds before giving another one. After a few minutes, she is sweating and struggling to hold each new pose, cursing at the ways she¡¯s being forced to contort. ¡°I feel bad for you,¡± she huffs, try to shake off the strands of hair clinging to her sweaty brow.

    ¡°Why?¡± I chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re the one sweating. Left foot, 5.¡±

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    She lets out a little growl of frustration but manages it. ¡°Exactly. She gave you a pass on this torture. That means, whatever you went through yesterday must have been a thousand times worse. My sympathies.¡±

    I wince, face flushing. ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad¡­¡±

    ¡°Really? Then I might consider getting a free pass too.¡±

    Oh, you have no idea what you¡¯re saying. Bell coos in my lap, squirming with a little more energy to show her willingness. Nuh-uh. If anyone is doing that, it¡¯s me. Hands off, you greedy imp.

    [We could share the knight, Master Lou.]

    Ugh. That¡¯s more tempting than I want to admit¡­but no. Keep your seductions away from her. I can have a female friend without trying to get her into bed. I¡¯m sure of it.

    Really.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to do that, Alana. Trust me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re making me really curious about it. Normally, you¡¯re happy to brag about anything and everything that elf puts you through. In training and out.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re a closet pervert. Right hand, 11.¡±

    She grunts with effort as she moves. ¡°I keep telling you I don¡¯t want to know!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re asking about it right now.¡±

    ¡°¡­then it wasn¡¯t training?¡±

    Crap. She talked me in a circle. My face flushes hotter as she gives me a searching look. ¡°It was training! Definitely training!¡±

    ¡°¡­right.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, about yesterday!¡± I say quickly, desperate to change the subject. ¡°You know, with our encounter of the royal kind.¡±

    ¡°Ah, him. Told you nothing good would come with mixing with nobles. Wish I could have at least finished my lunch.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and people say I have no manners. You wouldn¡¯t happen to know anything about him, would you?¡±

    ¡°Why would I? I know the king has three sons and two daughters. That¡¯s the extent of my knowledge on the royal family.¡±

    I sigh heavily. ¡°I suppose I can¡¯t be upset.¡± I didn¡¯t even know that much. ¡°Just thought I¡¯d take my chances, what with your last name. Right foot, 10.¡± Last name means noble lineage of some kind. Come to think of it, I¡¯ve never asked about her family. She doesn¡¯t seem close to them so it never seemed important.

    My thought is reinforced by her frown. ¡°James may be a ducal household but¡­I¡¯m a bastard, Lou. A child birthed from one of the whores my father slept around with outside of marriage. Only good to be a servant to my legitimate siblings despite having the same blood. My father only took notice of me when they discovered my light affinity and I only received his last name before being accepted to the Grand Hall, with the unspoken promise to serve as his sword. I am by no means a proper noble.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Ducal house!? Jeez, I¡¯ve been prancing around with the daughter of a duke this whole time without knowing it. That¡¯s only one step away from royalty. Bastard or not, she can bludgeon almost everyone here with her bloodline.

    Good job coming out as someone decent, Alana. All the odds were stacked against you. ¡°Left foot, 4.¡±

    ¡°Devil. I pour my heart out to you and you reply with treachery.¡±

    ¡°Eh, well, you already have my promise, right?¡± Though I¡¯m still not sure what I promised her. It was made with some very broad strokes. ¡°That should say enough.¡±

    She smiles despite her exertion. ¡°That it does.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 13

    The lesson seems to end faster than usual. Kierra even sends me off with a kiss, getting me a few glares from the other initiates. I glare right back at them. They¡¯re either Kierra¡¯s admirers or idiots who are seeing me clean and relaxed from not doing anything and forgetting the pain I go through daily.

    You want to swap places? Of course you do, but you can¡¯t. So, haha!

    Alana drags me off before the staring match can become too intense. ¡°Come on. We¡¯re wasting time we could be spending eating.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll have to skip. I¡¯m headed back to the Gold Dorm.¡±

    She gives me a look over her shoulder. ¡°After what happened yesterday? You are a glutton for punishment.¡±

    Only a little bit. ¡°It¡¯s necessary. I have to do something. If it finishes early, I¡¯ll see you at the Bronze Dorm.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll come with you.¡±

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t get into trouble on your own.¡±

    Aw, I¡¯m going to swoon. But hey, why are you assuming I¡¯m going to get into trouble? Starting to worry about her opinion of me. She doesn¡¯t mean it when she calls me things like devil and degenerate right? I¡¯ve behaved myself around her perfectly.

    ¡°Coo coo?¡± [Would you like to know, Master Lou?]

    ¡­no. I feel like I¡¯ll learn something I don¡¯t want to. ¡°I won¡¯t get into trouble. I¡¯m simply going to ask a friend for some advice on staying out of trouble. Promise.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. If you¡¯re sure?¡±

    ¡°Completely. Trust me.¡±

    She still escorts me to the Gold Dorm and leaves reluctantly. Girl is too responsible for her own good. Hey, the doormen are the same as yesterday. They scowl at me but we don¡¯t have to waste time determining my legitimacy, though one of them gives Bell a curious glance.

    Inside, I pause in the main room. ¡°Bell, reach out to Miss Talia. Ask her if she has time to talk to us.¡± If there¡¯s anyone who will know anything about the prince, it will be her. He lives under her roof and she has a highly developed mental affinity. The woman was practically born to be a spy.

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    [She has agreed. Up the stairs, Master Lou.]

    That was fast, though not surprising. I follow Bell¡¯s directions absentmindedly, preoccupied with examining the decorations. There is an abundance of banners and portraits, the different families paying homage to the notable casters they have produced.

    Saints, everything they do is a pissing contest. Of course, I could care less about the stern faces staring back at me. I care about the frames holding them. Their gleam suggest they are made of precious metals and those are literal gems embedded within. Incredible. Just how much wealth is on display here? Would they notice if I nab one?

    Before my greed can get me in trouble, Bell points out that we¡¯ve arrived. After the parade of gold I just walked through, the simple wooden door is both underwhelming and unusual. I raise a hand to knock but the door is opened before I have the chance.

    Miss Talia stands in the doorway. I want to say she¡¯s happy to see me but her expressions are muted as always. ¡°Come in.¡±

    She holds it open for me as I walk in, watching me with that intensity that makes me so uncomfortable. Seems she invited me to her study. The space is sparse, with only a single desk and several bookcases along the walls. Plain beige walls, no pictures, no rugs, and white shades on the window. Minimalist and completely at odds with the building. Is she trying to make a statement here? Cause I can¡¯t imagine a space looking like this if someone spends anytime in it.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive me, I only have the one seat. You¡¯re welcome to it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to take your chair.¡±

    We stare at each other for a long moment until she realizes I would rather we both stand than doing something as uncouth as taking a lady¡¯s seat and she sits down, knitting her fingers in her lap. ¡°What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d love to say that I came just for you but I have a bit of an issue. Yesterday¡ª¡±

    ¡°You were accosted by Prince Samuel and his retinue.¡±

    ¡°¡­you really are watching me, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I was before but Geo warned me against doing so. Apparently, it is not conducive to forming friendships. That said, it happened within this dorm. It¡¯s my job to be aware of everything that happens here and I am especially sensitive to the use of your name.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, I guess.¡±

    ¡°You are wanting my help in dealing with the prince? Even for you, that would be¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, no, no!¡± Murdering a prince. Ugh, just the thought makes me feel sick. Not until I am strong enough to slay dragons. One-handed and blind. Then I might feel comfortable doing something so crazy. ¡°The thing is, I have a reason to believe that someone close to the prince is planning to kill him.¡±

    That got a reaction, though only the tiniest twitch of an eyebrow. ¡°An assassination plot. Hm. My protection of the students only extends within this building. Since I¡¯ve heard nothing of it, I doubt they plan to attempt such here, removing it from my concerns. You wish to intervene?¡±

    ¡°No. Getting involved is the last thing I want to do, but I need to know that ignoring it won¡¯t bring bigger pains down the road. I don¡¯t know nearly enough about the situation. So, I was hoping you could tell me about him, why someone would want him dead, and pleeeease tell me it¡¯s okay to let the stones fall where they may. I¡¯d like that.¡±

    Miss Talia tilts her head for a moment. ¡°I¡¯ve just asked a servant to bring tea and a chair. I will be sure to tell you everything I know.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 14

    Seated with a cup of tea in my hand, I settle into the amazingly comfortable chair a quiet servant boy brought for me as Talia dives into her explanation. ¡°I suppose the first thing is to ask how much you know of the royal family?¡±

    ¡°Um. They are rich and powerful and it¡¯s best to stay far away from them? The king is Sebastian kor Harvest, long may he reign yada yada. Oh, last year I met a prince. I think his name was Bastard? No, Bastian. He was a bastard though. Was involved with the Grimoires.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Is that a disapproving look? Really hard to read this woman. And no Bell, I don¡¯t want to know. ¡°Then you need to know everything. The royal family is quite extensive, having a surplus of heirs and bastards to support the managing of the kingdom. There¡¯s no need to discuss the many concubines and offspring so we will discuss the main branch.

    ¡°The king is indeed Sebastian kor Harvest and he has reigned for the last twelve years. He is married to Angelleen Tulopia-Harvest, a girl from a branch family of the Rosefields. They have five children. The first prince, Dowager. The second prince, Samuel, who you are quite familiar with. The first princess, Selestia. The third prince who you¡¯ve met, Bastian. Finally, the second princess and their youngest, Angelica.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Saints. This is going to be long. We¡¯re going to need another pot of tea at this rate. I take a long sip of my cup before passing it to Bell. Hehe. Everything she does with those little hands is so adorable. ¡°I¡¯ve got it. Please, go on.¡±

    ¡°To understand the possible plot behind an assassination of Samuel, you need to understand the movements of the factions. Do you know what they are?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. The nobles, the military, and the merchants.¡±

    ¡°In high society chatter, they are referred to as the Traditionalists, the Militants, and the Expansionists. The Traditionalists are mostly comprised of old families whose main goal is the preservation of their power. The Militants are more focused on expanding the kingdom, specifically on this continent. We have audaciously named it the Harvest Continent, after our vast kingdom, but there are still places blocked off from us. Specifically, the north. Then there are the Expansionists who want to move past the Great War and reconnect with the world. Motivated by profit and a sense of adventure, I suppose.

    ¡°Normally, the royal family is the center of the Traditionalists. They need to be firmly entrenched with their vassals, after all. However, Dowager, the Crown Prince, is a supporter of the Militants. Whether it is for profit or pride, he plans to make his mark on history by conquering the north, pushing into the Bleak Peaks alongside the James family.¡±

    Miss Talia pauses to take a sip of tea. ¡°As the firstborn, he is guaranteed the right to take the throne. He even has a solid support. Many old nobles are rather upset with him but he has the Militants¡¯ love and the Expansionists have pledged their considerable wallets to his cause, hoping to sway him into supporting their campaigns across the sea.

    ¡°The problem is that Samuel also has a strong faction supporting him. The Traditionalists can rival both factions alone and the second prince is their ideal king. The family itself is split as the king must support his first son but the queen firmly supports the second. The king tried to ease tensions by engaging Princess Selestia to Duke Rosefield¡¯s, the head of the Traditionalists, second son. A futile gesture. They want the throne.¡±

    ¡°This is why royals scare me. Why are the people in charge of this country so divided?¡± I let out an explosive sigh to vent the growing sense of dread in my gut. I¡¯m not going to escape this situation, am I? ¡°So, Samuel wants to be king and has the support of the strongest families in the kingdom. That means the most likely people to want him dead are either Prince Dowager, the Militants, or the Expansionists. Any number of people.¡± More enemies than I want to fend off. ¡°This is when you tell me I don¡¯t need to get involved.¡±

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    ¡°Hm. The commonly held opinion is that Dowager is the more stable son. Neither is significantly more capable than the other. Samuel is attending the Grand Hall to raise his esteem as a caster but is of mediocre talent. Though he has a large coefficient and a double affinity of water and air, he doesn¡¯t have the coveted light affinity of the Founder. Either would make an acceptable king, accompanied by the appropriate advisors.¡±

    ¡°So, the fallout from this assassination would be minimal?¡±

    ¡°It could be but there will always be consequences when a member of the royal family is killed. The Traditionalists will be out for blood. They will no doubt try to bring it upon the head of Dowager, aggravating the conflict between the three factions significantly. If they don¡¯t receive satisfactory compensation, and nothing will satisfy losing their desired king, it could lead to all-out conflict between the factions.¡±

    ¡°Civil war,¡± I groan. Saints protect me, this is not what I want to hear.

    ¡°Not a high chance in my opinion. Far more likely the old nobles try to make things difficult through trade.¡±

    ¡°People will kill for gold.¡±

    ¡°Which is why the chance of war remains. There is a worse possibility. Should Samuel be killed, the Traditionalists may make an attempt on Dowager¡¯s life, greatly increasing the chance of armed conflict. Also, should the attempt on Dowager¡¯s life be successful, the throne would fall to Bastian and that would doom the country.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s that bad? Don¡¯t get me wrong, he did less than impress me when we met but he¡¯s a prince, isn¡¯t he? He was raised to rule.¡±

    ¡°My information on the third prince is rather lacking but from what I know, he is a waste. With a healthy and able Crown Prince and Samuel as a spare, he has no real value to the country as a prince with no redeeming talents. He spends his time immersed in hedonistic pleasures. If he ever becomes king, this country will become his playground. One of his advisors will turn him into a puppet for whatever agenda if he proves pliable. If not, he will be killed as well.¡±

    ¡°Which ends in, again, civil war. Why me?¡±

    ¡°A rather low possibility there as well. If Bastian is killed, Selestia¡¯s husband will become the king. Enough blood will have been spilled to satisfy all parties as long as no one is being opportunistic and the son of a duke will be able to unite the nobles. And these are only the worse possibilities we are discussing.¡±

    I lean backward, shutting my eyes while I think over everything she¡¯s said. All low possibility this, slim chance that, but the fact remains that if this situation goes the wrong way, the Harvest Kingdom can go up in flames. Here at the Grand Hall, I¡¯d be sheltered from the worse of it but could I honestly do nothing?

    Let¡¯s think in benefits and losses. If I intervene and save Samuel, then I will prevent armed conflict between the factions, might possibly gain the favor of the prince so he doesn¡¯t despise me, and could maybe wrangle a reward out of the king. Not like the royal family lacks gold. It might also win me some points with the Traditionalists, who probably also hate me due to the Pottoculli incident. Huh. Since when do so many people hate me?

    I guess having the people running the country like me could be good for something down the line. And I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about the situation blowing up in my face down the road. But is any of that worth the potential pitfalls?

    There are so many bad sides to this. The royal family will know me. All of them. That is a horrific thing to contemplate. I¡¯ll make an enemy out of whoever is planning this, which can be either the battle-happy Militants or the Expansionists who control the country¡¯s wallet. Or both, saints help me. Being tied with the Guiness family, I¡¯m loosely allied with them, aren¡¯t I?

    Not to mention the possibility that whoever is trying to kill Prince Samuel tries to kill me and I bite off more than I can chew. I¡¯m hard pressed to think of something that can get past my wife and my contracted elementals, but they aren¡¯t infallible. Nothing is absolute.

    Except Cosmo.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 15

    ¡°You seem to be deep in thought.¡±

    I open my eyes to see Miss Talia standing over me, my refilled teacup in her hand. ¡°Thanks,¡± I mumble, handing it to Bell. ¡°This is a mess.¡±

    ¡°You can simply stay out of it.¡±

    ¡°No, no. There¡¯s no point leaving it to chance when I can do something. Unless you see something I don¡¯t?

    ¡°I agree intervention would be the best course. You seem wary of dealing with the royal family but having their favor would be a powerful boon. However, if you do get involved, I advise you keep your involvement concealed until you can reveal the plot in its entirety. Otherwise, the perpetrators will escape and the plotters will find a way to turn the outcome to their favor.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re completely right.¡± Just because I get involved doesn¡¯t mean I have to thrust myself right in the middle of it. I can simply have Geneva lurk about the Grand Hall to find the information on the assassins, deliver that info to Samuel discretely, and disappear into the night. Forget the king¡¯s favor. ¡°Thanks. I appreciate you taking the time to talk this through with me. How do you know so much anyway? Don¡¯t tell me it all came from listening in on conversations here.¡±

    Miss Talia retakes her place behind her desk. ¡°I have to deal with the politicking of the kingdom frequently. Mental affinities are rare, those who can make proper use of it even more so. At the moment, I am the number one candidate to replace the Head Interrogator when he retires.¡±

    What is it with me and unknowingly interacting with people of surprisingly high status!? ¡°As in¡­the head of law enforcement for the country and the king¡¯s personal interrogator?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°A very coveted role. To receive even a consideration, one cannot simply be good. They must be the best. Though I do not need such a carrot. I enjoy my abilities and desire to explore them to greater depths.¡±

    Hence, your interest in me. This woman. She seems intent on getting closer to me but if she ever decided to cut her losses, what could she reveal about me? And she can whisper into the most important ears in the kingdom.

    ¡°Coo coo.¡± [There is no need to be concerned. The woman knows the difference between the power of men and real power. She will not alienate you.]

    Thanks, Bell. I know that. This whole prince situation just has me unnerved.

    ¡°Ah, the creature just spoke with you, yes? I can¡¯t be sure as the spell was so seamless, if left barely any trace. Incredible.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [And quite talented for a human!]

    ¡°I read your papers on the incompetent imps of Burning Earth but it is difficult to believe such prowess could be exercised by a creature with a coefficient of anything less than 500, no matter how long they may live.¡±

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    You are far too observant for a woman who walks around with her eyes closed. What is with that? Her eyes are strange but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s blind. She can¡¯t be. ¡°Erm, don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but I¡¯d really not have that conversation right now.¡±

    ¡°I understand. Being a friend is knowing when to respect boundaries. Perhaps a change of subject? We could share details of one another¡¯s lives or discuss our hobbies.¡±

    Pfft. ¡°Sure. What¡¯s going on with your eyes?¡±

    She slowly opens them, revealing the strangely inverted colors. ¡°A common question. There is no common term for those born this way. I prefer a term I saw in an old text that called them spirit eyes. I am blind to the physical world but in exchange I can see mana.¡±

    ¡­eh? Does that mean what I think it means?

    ¡°It is hard to describe. I have seen the world through others¡¯ eyes but no colors can describe wild mana. It is transparent yet shines brilliantly at the same time. It gains more recognizable colors once it enters a person, dimming as the caster extracts from it the affinity they can use. I mainly navigate by seeing the balls of mana that represent people and avoiding the darkness that wild mana flows around to recognize obstacles.¡±

    I swallow heavily. ¡°Um, when you say you can see the color of mana in people¡­can you recognize the affinity by color?¡±

    She gives me a piercing look. ¡°Yes. If I know them well enough, I can even recognize individuals by the hue of their mana. Yours is¡­quite unique.¡±

    Oh, saints¡¯ damnation¡­we¡¯re going to have to kill her.

    [There is no need to be hasty, Master Lou.]

    Am I being hasty? She knows, Bell! No one can find out about my potential! Do you know what they would do to me? I¡¯d be spirited away to the capital and forced to serve the king directly, probably as a soldier or royal guard or some other ridiculous title that equals being as good as a prisoner.

    Or they¡¯d try to pawn me off to one of the princes to enrich the bloodline. Who wouldn¡¯t want a noble brood mare with seven affinities? They will put me firmly under their thumb some way and if they can¡¯t, I can¡¯t be allowed to live. Hunted for as long as I¡¯m in the country. No, no, no, that is not happening!

    [Please, calm yourself. We would not allow such to happen. You are about to let your panic urge you to do something you¡¯ll regret. Umphrieltalia is not a stupid woman. She would clearly recognize your value and her own threat to your continued existence by revealing she knows. She could have remained quiet and you would never have known. Yet, she told you.]

    ¡­Bell¡¯s right. She¡¯s right. Why did she tell me that instead of running off to the king first chance she got?

    [She is ambitious.]

    I chance a look at Miss Talia. Quietly watching me with those strange eyes. She must know we¡¯re talking right now. Does she know we¡¯re discussing her life? ¡°Why?¡± I finally ask.

    ¡°I want to be your friend, Lourianne. Friends have to be able to trust one another.¡±

    Such simple reasoning. You want me to bet my life and freedom on that?

    No way. I should just run. Geneva can teach me and I¡¯ll summon another elemental for the rest of my elements. Tour the world with Kierra. That doesn¡¯t sound bad. That would be the smart thing but¡­

    But...

    I can¡¯t help but remember her blank look when she emotionlessly declared having never been close enough to anyone to call them a friend. I at least had those stupid brother knights and the fleeting friendships I formed sneaking amongst the common folk. Aaaaagggghhhh, fine you damn conscience!

    ¡°Coo~¡± [You are very kind, my master. Listen to no one who insults such a virtue, as it is rare and beautiful.]

    Thanks for not calling me an idiot, which is what I feel like. You always make me feel better. ¡°Here¡¯s to friendship,¡± I say aloud, hugging Bell close to my chest.

    A tiny smile. Saints know how happy she must be for it to be showing on her face. ¡°Thank you, Lou. Thank you.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 16

    ¡°Yeah. Got to admit, I didn¡¯t expect such a heavy conversation coming here.¡± My nerves are fried. If I had the option, I¡¯d just go home and call it a day but my schedule is not my own. I am beyond ready for my initiate year to be over.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to think we¡¯ve made progress though.¡± Miss Talia closed her eyes. ¡°As you asked a question of me, I would like to ask one of you. What are your favorite foods?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Too drastic of a switch. My brain is still spinning from the stress of rapid and complicated thoughts. ¡°That¡¯s a strange question.¡±

    ¡°Is it? I thought I could invite your family to dinner to return the favor. It would be a nice opportunity for socializing.¡±

    ¡­do I need to be worried about someone this earnest? Please tell me I don¡¯t have to. It would be such a waste. ¡°I¡¯m fond of a good roast.¡±

    ¡°Noted. Would you like to ask another question?¡±

    ¡°Why do you always wear those plain robes? I see what Kierra gets paid so I know you could afford better if you wanted.¡±

    Miss Talia raises an arm. ¡°I can¡¯t see what they look like. I choose what¡¯s comfortable and easy to put on.¡±

    Oh. She¡¯s blind, to an extent. Forgot about that.

    ¡°If you¡¯d like, you could help me pick out something else.¡±

    ¡°Love to.¡± This is a free opportunity to undress her, right? Of course, with only pure intentions of helping. Hehe.

    ¡°My turn. Sorry, but I must ask this question. What are your goals?¡±

    You mean as someone who will probably become the most powerful caster in the world? Or are we talking more immediate goals, like what I¡¯m planning to do here at the Hall? Basically, the same either way. ¡°To live the most amusing life I can.¡± That was the agreement.

    ¡°¡­amusing?¡±

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    ¡°Yes. There are a few more things sprinkled in there. I want to see more of the world, elevate the Tome family and the art of summoning, maybe slay a dragon or two just to say I did, but mostly I want to live an enjoyable life I won¡¯t regret.¡± I shrug. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about my aspirations for ruling, they amount to nothing. Absolutely zilch. No one has anything to worry about from me.¡±

    ¡°I see. A life you won¡¯t regret. That is a fine answer. People are so full of ugly ambition. Willingly to do disgusting things for even a modicum of the power you wield. Yet, I know you are not a product of having that power, but your true self. I think even if you weren¡¯t so important to my own ambitions, I wouldn¡¯t mind being your friend.¡±

    ¡°Aw, thank you. You aren¡¯t too bad yourself. A little intense, but not bad.¡±

    ¡°Thank you as well. I believe we are connecting? More progress.¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°You don¡¯t have to point it out, but yeah, we¡¯re connecting.¡±

    The moment is interrupted by soft knocking then the door swings open. A young girl, a few years younger than me, walks in, stopping at the end of Miss Talia¡¯s desk. Dressed in the white and black uniform of a servant, hair hidden beneath a frilly cap, her dark eyes drill into me with apprehension, thin lips pressed into a disapproving frown.

    Um, why am I suddenly being disliked by a stranger? Do people really hate me?

    ¡°This is my assistant, Marie,¡± Miss Talia says, gesturing toward the girl. ¡°Given my visual impairment, she assists me with the paperwork one of my position cannot avoid. Quite essential to my work. Marie, this is Lourianne Tome, an initiate here at the Hall.¡±

    Marie gives me an impeccable bow. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, my lady.¡±

    ¡°Ah, pleasure¡¯s all mine. Don¡¯t worry too much about the formalities.¡± I stand up. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you have to get back to work? I also need to hurry up and get something to eat.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. I enjoyed our chat and would like to do it again. You are free to visit whenever you wish.¡±

    I dart my eyes to the side. Strange. I could have sworn I felt some serious hostility aimed at me, my senses for such things honed by my loving wife¡¯s training, but the only other person in the room, Marie, is gazing at the floor demurely. Did I imagine it?

    ¡°Coo.¡± [Not at all, Master Lou. The girl is rather upset with you for stealing Umphrieltalia¡¯s attention.]

    A rival? Ah, comrade. I feel your pain. Unfortunately, this is not a relationship I can back away from. I need to keep Miss Talia close to me. Otherwise, I won¡¯t be able to rest easy with her having hold of my secrets.

    ¡°Coo coo.¡± [I don¡¯t believe it is the same type of affection as you seek. She sees her as more of a beloved guardian, perhaps a mother.]

    We¡¯ll see. ¡°Bell says bye,¡± I say to explain away the cooing of my imp.

    ¡°Goodbye, Bell.¡±

    [Hm. The woman asks if next time I may speak with her as well.]

    Sure, why not? She already knows you are more than you appear. With a wave to Marie, I leave the office, hurrying over to the Bronze Dorm so I don¡¯t starve for the rest of the day.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 17

    ¡°Welcome back, Lou.¡±

    At the end of a long day, Geneva waits in the doorway with her usual smirk. It¡¯s a sight I¡¯m accustomed to as she makes a point of greeting when whenever I return but this time, I pause, drawn into contemplation. Despite the complications surrounding the annoying prince, I can relax because I know I am protected. Kierra is a significant deterrent but Geneva, with her centuries of experience and the many legends surrounding her, is the one who truly puts me at ease.

    The first summoner, if stories can be believed, was a desperate man who desperately called out for a higher being to save him. It is an art based upon the meek relying on the strong, a humble practice of those who know how truly insignificant people are in the face of the creatures who rule the greater realms. Summoners are nothing without their elementals but I am amazed how much I have truly come to rely on Geneva.

    She cooks, she cleans, she teaches, she protects, and she¡¯s my own personal spymaster. More importantly, she does her duties with a competency that can¡¯t be compared to mortal hands. Honestly, I don¡¯t know how I¡¯d function without her by now. Which is all a part of her dastardly plan to get more pieces of me.

    Hm. Maybe it¡¯s the whole prince scare, but I¡¯m feeling oddly appreciative.

    I quickly close the distance between us and pull her into a hug. I¡¯m so conscious of letting her manipulate me that I rarely get physical. Bad decision. She¡¯s so soft and just the right height to squeeze. All the women I¡¯m interested in are taller than me and I naturally wind up being led, with a few notable exceptions.

    Her arms come around me as her tail wraps around my waist. ¡°Someone¡¯s happy to see me.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve told you lately how happy I am you accepted my contract.¡±

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    ¡°It was quite impossible to turn away. Though, if we are being open, you are one of the most pleasant masters I¡¯ve served.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that to get more pieces of me.¡±

    ¡°Please, order me to tell the truth. Power is a funny thing, especially power over another being. When there are no consequences to influence them, you see what people are truly capable of. I am your slave for as long as our contract lasts and yet you treat me kindly. Dare I say it, like a mistress you¡¯re particularly wary of. It is rather refreshing as I¡¯d prepared myself for much worse.¡±

    Sigh. How am I supposed to stay wary of her when she says things like that while beaming up at me with the cutest grin in the world? Okay. She did ask me to. ¡°Geneva, tell me the absolute truth, leaving nothing hidden.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Do you honestly care for me or are you saying these things for to get more benefits?¡±

    ¡°Both,¡± the little devil replies with no hesitation, grin stretching wider. ¡°I am fond of you. Not like Master¡¯s love for you. More like the amusement of watching a bumbling child. And yes, I am inserting myself into every aspect of your life and seducing you for benefits. Feeding for one, but pleasure and becoming close to you are benefits of their own.¡±

    Wow. I asked for it and she didn¡¯t sugarcoat a tiny bit of that. ¡°Eh, good enough for me.¡± Giving into a desire I¡¯ve been fighting for a long time, I gently cup her face and lean down to kiss her.

    This is my first time leading in a while and she lets me. She melts into me like a swooning maiden, small hands gripping my shirt as her tail wraps around me tighter. Saints, she must be the best actress in the world because even knowing she¡¯s doing it on purpose, I fall for it, pulling her closer.

    ¡°Coo coo.¡±

    I pull away and look down to see Bell crouched at my feet, looking up at me with pitiful eyes. Ah. I hadn¡¯t been cradling her so I forgot about her.

    ¡°Interfering with my prey. You¡¯ve certainly grown bold, Belolial.¡± The imp backpedals as Geneva gives her a look, hanging her head. ¡°Hm. I guess I shouldn¡¯t be too hasty.¡± She releases me, stepping back with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m happy you¡¯re opening up to me, my summoner. Dinner will be ready soon. Master is in the back garden if you want to see her.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, thanks. And hey, you can tell me if there¡¯s something else you want. Besides me. It can¡¯t be enjoyable lounging around this place doing nothing all day.¡±

    ¡°No need to worry about me. I always find ways to amuse myself.¡±

    That I don¡¯t doubt.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 18

    Without Bell to guide me, I¡¯d be hopelessly lost on my own property.

    Well, it¡¯s more Kierra¡¯s property than mine and it¡¯s really more the Grand Hall¡¯s than hers, but we live here so meh. The Hall has an entire area of the island dedicated to the housing of its preferred members of staff. Just past the markets and right before the main buildings, quite the ideal location. And the estates are generous, three-story homes with enough land to ignore the fact that we have neighbors.

    From the short jaunt down our street we took when we moved in, most don¡¯t do much with the space besides hiring someone to keep the grass manicured and a few flower bushes growing. Not my elven bride.

    The front gardens are decoys, duplicates of the mundane two-inch grass and pretty flowers of everyone else. There is a small pavilion for when she takes tea breaks outside and another area marked for a fountain. If I hadn¡¯t intervened, it would be a statue of a buxom woman in one of the many provocative poses Kierra dreamed up, curtesy of Bell¡¯s earth affinity.

    Really, those people have no sense of decency. And if we¡¯re putting up statues of anyone, obviously Cosmo comes first. Only problem is we can¡¯t find a suitably glossy material but I haven¡¯t given up!

    Things get interesting once you follow the main road leading up to the house around back. There are two more buildings; a stable and a gardener¡¯s shed which Gajin has taken roost in. Our new servant really loves his flowers and spends his days happily digging in the dirt.

    Warms my heart to see a bandit reform his ways so thoroughly and he does a good job. There is both a medicinal garden and an herb garden he manages practically on his own. Kierra praises his work often while decorating the house with his blooms.

    But those are also decoys and not the reason I can¡¯t look for my wife without an escort. Surrounding the estate is a wooded area. A small one full of young trees and easily explained away as a privacy screen. However, one wouldn¡¯t know that from their size. Apparently, Kierra can accelerate the growth of plants. Haha, frickin¡¯ pure affinities. Just wish a bunch of trees to grow to the height of houses in weeks. It¡¯s so unfair.

    And amid those trees is the real garden. The one filled with poisonous flowers, toxic moss, and deadly mushrooms. The one where there are no paths and the plants grow wild instead of in neat rows. The one where one wrong step can get someone killed and why I don¡¯t dare go searching for her on my own. The plants won¡¯t kill me but if I so much as trample the wrong leaf, Kierra gets annoyed. Not a good time.

    Bell leads me to the base of a tree and points up. My wife is seated on one of its branches, scrutinizing leaves before transferring them to a small satchel on her waist. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me this whole tree is poisonous,¡± I call up.

    She smiles as she looks my way. ¡°Not on its own, it isn¡¯t.¡± The elf leans back, seeming to fall off the branch. Really, if we hadn¡¯t been married for over a year, I might be worried seeing it. I don¡¯t even flinch. As expected, she somersaults through the air several times before expertly landing on her feet without breaking a sweat. I clap slowly. ¡°Amazing.¡±

    ¡°Could you do it?¡± She steps forward, grabbing my hands and pulling me into a hug I accept gladly, burying my face in her chest without any shame.

    ¡°I could do it. Just like I could stab a random person in the market. Common sense precludes both.¡±

    ¡°You still have some of that pesky nonsense left? Cheh. I¡¯ll have to get more creative in your training.¡±

    ¡°How does one tie in to the other?¡±

    ¡°Once you¡¯ve suffered enough, you¡¯ll stop caring about how the world sees things.¡±

    ¡°Are you speaking from experience?¡±

    ¡°No, elves are born degenerates. At least in my family.¡± We chuckle together, Kierra squeezing me tighter. ¡°You¡¯re in a better mood.¡±

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    ¡°What do you mean? I¡¯m in the arms of my beautiful and loving wife, how could I be anything but jovial?¡±

    ¡°Hm. Are you sweet-talking me so I¡¯ll deal with your prince? It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve assassinated someone but I¡¯m game for the challenge.¡±

    What is wrong with you people and the killing!? Why is it always the first thing you all think of? Saints, if I save Samuel from his supposed friend, I might have to save him from my lovers next.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want you killing anyone. I¡¯ve got a basic plan to deal with him. One where he doesn¡¯t die with my limited involvement. With any luck, I can foil this stupid plot without anyone ever knowing I knew about it.¡±

    ¡°Mm, good. You get so irrational when royalty gets involved.¡±

    I shiver. ¡°They¡¯re my weakness. But I am done worrying about it. Nope, not talking about it anymore. How are you? You seem to be really settling in here.¡±

    Kierra pulls me, putting her back to the tree she¡¯d been monkeying around in before dropping to the ground and settling me in her lap. ¡°I am. Reminds me when I was put in charge of my first team. I certainly don¡¯t lack for things to do. If anything, I have too many options.¡±

    ¡°Too many?¡±

    ¡°Besides being a Foundation teacher, I have been invited to teach Monster Hunting, Tracking and Trapping, Alchemy with a focus on medicinal plants, Health, Dueling, Strategy and Command, Interracial Studies, and have been invited to a number of different research teams.¡±

    ¡°Wow. That¡¯s¡­a lot. They missed a few.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Foraging and Trail Cooking cause I have seen you make meals out of some crazy things. Definitely Interrogation. Wait, they can¡¯t be that forward about it, can they? Um, maybe Persuasive Questioning? I don¡¯t know. Butchery or maybe Dismantling? Taking apart magical creatures isn¡¯t the same as chopping up pigs. I¡¯d say Seduction but that is the last thing this country needs.¡±

    ¡°I am a talented woman.¡±

    Absolutely no shame or hesitation as she says it. ¡°I love you.¡±

    ¡°Love you too, dedia. While I enjoy being appreciated, their attempts to bring me into their many camps is a little exhausting.¡±

    Hm? I thought I heard something in her tone. ¡°Someone in particular?¡± Do I need to test out my assassination skills? They¡¯re probably terrible but I bet Geneva¡¯s are awesome.

    ¡°You¡¯d love to kill him, I bet.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s that bald bastard?¡± I might have criticized their propensity for lethal measures but please let me destroy him. I will pay good gold for the pleasure. ¡°I thought the two of you¡­ got along.¡± You love throwing it in my face.

    ¡°Teasing you aside, I do not care for the man. He seems rather insistent on becoming closer than I¡¯d care for. It goes beyond the regular fascination.¡±

    ¡°Are you trying to say you think he¡¯s fallen for you?¡± Doesn¡¯t change anything if he claims to be in love. I will step on his heart with relish. Probably laugh while I do it.

    ¡°No. Hm, how to say it¡­more like I am a prized bounty he is hunting down. Obsession rather than affection, I think.¡± She waves a hand dismissively. ¡°Never mind. The burden of enduring his attention has become too heavy for his usefulness to bare. No need to think of him.¡±

    Oh, no. He won¡¯t escape my revenge that easily. But I¡¯ll be sure to hit him with his broken heart at every available opportunity. Maybe some very public affection next time we¡¯re all together, hehe. If she¡¯s done teasing me, I¡¯m sure Kierra will be happy to join in.

    ¡°That is a very sly look, Lou.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m scheming.¡±

    ¡°Not your greatest talent.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°I must say, I am enjoying our time in the human continent more than I thought I would. I had my doubts about this country that isn¡¯t covered in forest but I can see a future here. Once your initiate year is over, I¡¯ll focus on the advanced Foundation classes. Take a few disciples like the other teachers.¡±

    ¡°Disciples, huh? I¡¯m not enough anymore?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re plenty but there¡¯s only one of you. Besides, nobles have standing forces, don¡¯t they? You have servants but are quite lacking in soldiers.¡±

    ¡°¡­you want to personally train my future knights?¡±

    ¡°Who else could I trust to be reasonably competent?¡±

    ¡°Aw.¡± I lean up to kiss her. ¡°Though how are you going to get them to swear allegiance to us? If they¡¯re trained by you, they¡¯ll be good enough to hired by the king.¡± That¡¯s a lot of gold and prestige to compete with.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. When I¡¯m done, they will know where their loyalties lie.¡±

    Poor people. They will flock to her in hopes of becoming reputable knights only to suffer a fate worse than death. She¡¯s going to do something truly despicable to them, isn¡¯t she? And all so I have competent help around the house. Saints save them if Geneva gets involved.

    I can¡¯t wait to see the people with the worst luck in the Grand Hall.

    We lay together, taking in the sun. Laying against her chest with her fingers trailing through my hair is wonderfully comfortable and a part of me doesn¡¯t want to get up but¡­

    ¡°I need a shower,¡± I say regretfully, getting to my feet. ¡°I¡¯ve been running about all day and we just sat in the dirt for who knows how long. Hot water and soap. Ugh.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± Bell bumps into my leg and I instinctively pick her up. [Shall I wash your back, Master Lou?]

    I flush at the thought of her and me in the same room without clothes. ¡°Um.¡±

    ¡°Ah-ah. Not this time, little imp.¡± Kierra deftly snatches Bell from my arms, ignoring her hiss of disapproval as she drops the imp to the ground. Leaving her to walk behind us as she pulls me toward the house by the hand. ¡°I¡¯ll be doing that.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 19

    ¡°Take all my love, take it all. What more do you have than before? Nothing, my love, nothing. It was yours, now and before. It is yours, forevermore.¡±

    Kierra blinks her sleepy eyes, giving me a slow smile. ¡°That was terrible.¡±

    I huff. ¡°You¡¯re the one asking me to recite poetry first thing in the morning. Did you think I¡¯d come up with something good?¡± I make to roll away from her but an arm wraps around me, pulling me against her. Admittedly, I don¡¯t struggle much.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d have something better to show for it. All my colleagues are nobles and extensively tutored in classic literature.¡±

    ¡°Me and tutoring didn¡¯t get along until recently and the only things I read are summoning records. You got anything better, barbarian?¡±

    I feel her ample chest press against my back as she shifts to drape herself over me, putting her lips against my ear. Then she speaks in her own language, the long vowels and changes in pitch making it seem as if she¡¯s singing, the vestiges of sleep giving her words a husky tone.

    I take a shuddering breath and let it out slowly as she finishes, trying to calm my racing heart. ¡°¡­fine, that was better. What¡¯d you say, anyway? I caught a little but I¡¯m still rusty.¡± And I was mostly distracted.

    ¡°The same thing you said.¡±

    ¡°Of course. You could say anything in that voice and it¡¯d be poetry.¡± Or at least erotic. All soft and breathy, woman practically moaned the words into my ear.

    ¡°It¡¯s all in the presentation, dedia.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I want you presenting to anyone else.¡±

    ¡°So possessive.¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± Which might be hypocritical of me seeing the way I can¡¯t help chasing every skirt that catches my eye. It¡¯s not my fault though! When I married her, I was ready to dedicate myself to a monogamous relationship. Wandering eyes aside, I never would have acted on it if it wasn¡¯t for her. Kierra never said anything but her eyes did. Pushing me. Daring me.

    Elven harems aside, I never had the guts to try it on until Geneva and Bell came along, always a little fearful I was misinterpreting her signals. Nope. Not even a little. I get the feeling she thought I was moving a little slowly.

    However, I can¡¯t stand the thought of her doing the same. Saints, the one time she joked about reciprocating Aurelius¡¯ attentions, I nearly lost my mind. Amongst the family is good and fine but seeing her trying to seduce another woman¡­yeah, I don¡¯t think that would end well. I could swallow my pride if she really wanted.

    I think.

    Maybe.

    Probably have a heart attack trying but that can¡¯t kill me anymore, so it¡¯s fine.

    ¡°Is that¡­bad?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. It is very good.¡± Kierra rolls on top of me, her silver hair falling about us like a curtain. ¡°The source of all power is greed. Desire. Those who want more will fight harder and longer. I very much want you to embrace your desires, Lou. Your kindness, your selfishness, your fetishes. Embrace it all and become strong, my little conqueror.¡±

    She seals her speech with a kiss, slow and lazy. Really, how is anyone supposed to maintain a sense of decency with her around? Encouraging me to become more of a degenerate. No doubt marrying her was the best decision of my short life but I have a feeling it¡¯ll also be the most questionable.

    ¡°Good morning Lou, Master.¡±

    I turn to see Geneva standing by the side of the bed, tail swishing with Bell in her arms. Time to get moving then. With a sigh, I wiggle out from underneath my elf who enviously gets to go back to sleep, stretching languidly. ¡°Another busy day. Especially for you.¡±

    I motion for Bell, ignoring the imp¡¯s grin as I hold her against my chest. ¡°I need you to do something for me, Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [I am eager to serve, Master Lou.]

    ¡°You¡¯re going to do some investigating for me today. I want you to do spy on Prince Samuel and his friends. If we¡¯re going to find out what¡¯s going on, we need an inconspicuous way to get close to them. Of course, if you manage to unravel the whole plot in a day, that¡¯d be best.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± Her face falls, tail drooping in clear disappointment. Not the favor you thought I was going to ask, huh? Hehe. [I would prefer to stay with you.]

    That¡¯s nice. I do love spoiling my elementals, as they deserve it, but I won¡¯t forget Geneva¡¯s lesson. Only one person gives the orders. I raise Bell so we¡¯re eye level. ¡°That¡¯s an order, Belolial.¡±

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    The pout stays but she gives me a little nod. [As you wish, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Aw, don¡¯t make that face.¡± I kiss her little nose. That gets a swish of her tail so I continue, dropping several more. ¡°You know how much I appreciate you, my little saint. I don¡¯t like it either. This is why you should never get involved with royals.¡± Yes, it¡¯s all that prince¡¯s fault my favorite is upset first thing in the morning. He doesn¡¯t deserve me saving his life.

    I set her on the floor, happy the pout is gone. ¡°I¡¯m counting on you.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Leave it to me.] Her voice is full of determination as she scampers away, slipping out of the room like a darting shadow. That¡¯s a relief off my mind. Once she gets back, I can put together a plan of action to get this mess squared away. Plans are the best medicine for panic.

    ¡°I will be waiting in the bath once you¡¯re ready,¡± Geneva says, heading for the door.

    ¡°Um. You don¡¯t have to do that?¡±

    She smiles. ¡°Are you telling me not to?¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡±

    ¡°You should hurry then. Don¡¯t want to be late.¡±

    If anything¡¯s going to make me late, it¡¯ll be you. I shake my head as the door closes behind her. ¡°These succubi are going to be the end of me.¡± My rational, moral, decent self.

    Kierra chuckles.

    -

    Ah, the Bronze Dorm. It may not be fancy or sanitary but it is full of life. I¡¯m hit by a wall of noise as I enter behind Alana, grinning at the active attendees of the Grand Hall. It¡¯s far easier to imagine this mob dressed in patchy armor and heatedly debating casting knowledge as the future explorers and famed defenders of the realm than those posh idiots in the Gold Dorm.

    A shame I don¡¯t really have the chance to socialize with them. I¡¯ve been too busy with my household to bother trying to slip into the Hall¡¯s clique. There¡¯ll be plenty of time for that after my initiate year, when my schedule becomes less restrained.

    For now, I have my usual table. Besides Alana, there are the brothers, talented Michael with a wrongly placed admiration for me and quiet Gabriel here to act as his younger brother¡¯s guardian, the peerage hating Marthe who warmed up to me after I embarrassed Pottoculli, and surprisingly Abel.

    Boy hates my guys but nowhere else will have him. He was not subtle about his connection to the Pottoculli family and is paying for that connection dearly. I don¡¯t mind. Hearing his impotent anger is amusing and I¡¯m not so cruel as to make him eat alone.

    ¡°Hello, everyone,¡± I call jovially as I take a seat besides Alana. I wave to Abel especially, expecting his usual click of the tongue. Instead, the little weasel grins. A very unfriendly grin if I say so.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done it this time, cretin. Even I have heard of your transgressions against the prince.¡±

    ¡°Transgressions? That¡¯s ridiculous. He¡¯s the one who practically assaulted me.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re finished in this country.¡±

    He laughs evilly. I shut him up by flicking a spoonful of today¡¯s gruel at him, chuckling as he chokes on a bit that flies into his mouth. ¡°Shut up, little weasel.¡±

    ¡°You bitch!¡± he sputters.

    This time, I don¡¯t need to reprimand him. Gabriel handles it for me, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder with a stern look. ¡°Language.¡± Ah, such a splendid guardian.

    ¡°Yeah, language weasel. There¡¯s a kid here and we don¡¯t want him turning into a pathetic waste of space like you. So much for your noble education.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a kid,¡± Mike grumbles into his bowl. Not convincing if you can¡¯t even meet your brother¡¯s eyes when you say that. Don¡¯t worry about it. Your life is blessedly uncomplicated as it is. Once you get older, you have to worry about women and money and royals.

    ¡°That true, Lou?¡± Marthe selfishly leans across Alana¡¯s lap, ignoring the indignant knight-to-be. ¡°You picking a fight with a prince?¡±

    ¡°No. Do I look like I don¡¯t have a brain?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Um.¡±

    ¡°You are beyond stupid and look dumber than a lame donkey.¡±

    ¡°A bit.¡±

    What does a bit mean, Alana? Gabriel is the only one who doesn¡¯t insult me but he hardly talks. You are all terrible friends. Just terrible. ¡°I hope the saints turn their backs on all of you. Stop spreading rumors about me messing with Prince Samuel. I want this mess finished.¡±

    Marthe leans back with a click of her tongue. ¡°Too bad. I had high hopes for you.¡±

    ¡°No one¡¯s stopping you ruining your own future.¡± Hey, I may despise nobility but that doesn¡¯t mean I share your anti-establishment views. Honestly, I think she wants to burn every noble house to the ground.

    Which would include me and my family.

    ¡°One day.¡± She faces the wall, eyes unfocused as she indulges in some delusion or other.

    ¡°Okay¡­but since everyone is so focused on it, I don¡¯t suppose you all could tell me something about the charming prince I don¡¯t know? Abel, this is your time. Wow us with that brain you¡¯re so proud of.¡±

    He turns his nose up at the thought of helping me but I know he can¡¯t resist showing off. ¡°How can someone ignorant of the ruling family have the audacity to call themselves a noblewoman?¡± There he goes. ¡°If you¡¯re asking about Prince Samuel, then he is most noted for his remarkable talent as a caster, possessing dual affinities for air and water. As to be expected of such a powerful bloodline.¡±

    Personally, I think it¡¯s the exact opposite. How is someone unrecognized despite having the advantage two affinities? Mano says he hasn¡¯t heard of any exploits in relation to the prince and I believe him. He has the spirit of a merchant. No point selling defective goods, or information that can¡¯t be relied upon, because it¡¯ll only alienate his customers.

    As someone who can by their nature do twice as much as any other caster if given the same training, how do you not make a name for yourself?

    Is it that? A case of having the potential to be great but not the proper attitude to bring it to fruition? A spoiled noble praised from birth to the point he is no longer willingly to work because why does the best need to improve?

    Gosh. You¡¯d think someone with such a heavy ego would want the strength to support it.

    ¡°Uh-huh. So, he¡¯s the strongest in the family?¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You really know nothing. Obviously, the strongest caster in the royal family is His Majesty. It is said the king can contend with any member of the Harvest Royal Knights, even those from noble houses trained for their position since they could walk.¡±

    ¡°Then he¡¯s the strongest of the children.¡±

    ¡°¡­Prince Dowager is the more militant of the two. Though Prince Samuel¡¯s potential is untapped. There is no telling what heights he will ascend to during his time at the Grand Hall. Not to mention his dual affinity shows he clearly has the stronger blood, which is far more important.¡±

    I can tell how important Prince Samuel is to the Traditionist Faction just by how strongly Abel is groveling. He is truly talented in at least this regard. ¡°Ah, I see. Really enlightening. You¡¯re so smart.¡± I wonder if he can feel the sarcasm slapping him across the face. Seriously, wearing such a haughty expression without telling me anything. Talk about shameful.

    ¡°You! I can¡¯t wait until you¡¯re finally put in your rightful place!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 20

    That night, we¡¯re seated at the dining table for once when Bell comes bolting into the room, tail swishing like mad. I pause in the middle of feeding Kierra a piece of steak, opening my arms as the imp jumps into my lap. ¡°Ooooh, there you are! Did you do a good job?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [I have completed my job with no problems, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Good, good. I knew I could count on you.¡±

    Kierra slides my plate toward her as I set Bell on the table in front of us. ¡°What?¡± she says to the look I give her. ¡°You were feeding it to me, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Not the whole thing. I thought I was the glutton in this relationship.¡±

    ¡°We both know it takes a lot to fill me up.¡± She takes another bite of my steak as I stare at her with a hanging jaw.

    Mm. Not a fight I¡¯m going to win. Time to retreat. ¡°Alright, Bell. What do you have? Geneva, could you bring us something to snack on? And some of the Herbanacle, if we have it?¡±

    [With the help of Umphrieltalia, I was able to obtain information of Prince Samuel and the individuals with him during your encounter.]

    ¡°Mm. Start from the guy trying to kill him.¡±

    [Please close your eyes.]

    I do and soon an image appears. Once again, I am in the dining room of the Gold Dorm, Prince Samuel standing before me. However, the picture is a little off. Everything in the room is blurry except for the one Bell suspects of harboring murderous intentions.

    He doesn¡¯t seem very threatening, with his stiff features and impassive blue eyes. He¡¯s a bit too pale. I¡¯d go as far as to call him sickly, his white pallor almost as bright as his shirt. Long, dark hair is tied back, the tail falling past his shoulders. With his thin shoulders, small waist, and weak chin, someone might mistake him for a girl at a quick glance. Only at a glance, though. His voice would definitely give it away if the completely flat chest doesn¡¯t.

    [The boy is Marcus Ferraro, fourth son of Marquis Ferraro, a vassal family of the Rosefields. As there is no chance for him to inherit, he was gifted to the prince as a manservant. It is a practice meant to inspire loyalty and cooperation between the houses.]

    ¡°That failed.¡±

    [I sense from the boy deep dissatisfaction and envy. He is not at all happy having his life¡¯s worth being remanded to that of someone¡¯s servant.]

    ¡°So, we know why someone close to the prince wants to kill him. Though this Marcus is an idiot. Does he think life will go swimmingly if this assassination is successful? I don¡¯t care what the people behind this promised him, his life is over. Either he¡¯s executed for high treason, goes into exile to escape said execution, or he becomes a puppet of whoever knows he was complicit.¡±

    [Greed is blinding.]

    ¡°Uh huh. I¡¯m guessing my way in is related to the others?¡± Marcus can¡¯t be a good fit. If I were in his shoes, I¡¯d be jumpy and paranoid to the Abyss plane and back.

    [Yes. Your best bet to get close to the prince would be Cecilia Rosefield, the noblewoman.]

    The picture in my mind changes. Marcus Ferraro is blurred out and the girl at the prince¡¯s shoulder because the center of my focus. Bright, golden hair that marks most of Harvest¡¯s older families, with bright green eyes. Her eyes are narrowed, thin lips turned down in a slight frown as she presumably looks at me, if this is an image taken from my memory.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The expression doesn¡¯t mar her pretty face but it doesn¡¯t do much for me. Reminds me of too many sneering noble ladies from my childhood.

    [Duke Rosefield¡¯s niece. Their relationship is quite interesting. Cecilia remains close out of a sense of obligation while the prince harbors quite the lust for her.]

    ¡°How scandalous.¡± A prince lusting over a noblewoman? No, no. Purebred stallions like himself don¡¯t get to jump onto any filly. He swings his sword the wrong way and he can start a lot of problems. Especially if his affections aren¡¯t returned. ¡°I see the potential. A damsel in distress. Suppose I can save her while I¡¯m in the middle of a good deed.¡±

    [It will also be the most plausible approach, as you are commonly known to be a lecherous lover of women.]

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­not wrong but¡­¡± Why do I feel wronged?

    [The second girl who accompanied her is her handmaid, Aquafina, though the girl refers to her as simply Fina.]

    Cecilia is reduced to a haze of colors as the girl beside her becomes the center of focus. Despite that, I can¡¯t see much of her. Fina¡¯s head is bowed, hands clasped over her apron. A few strands of brown hair peeks through the white cap she wears over her head, everything about her screaming ¡®demure servant¡¯.

    [Daughter of a baron tied to the Traditional Faction. No one of much note, bred into her role. She does have a recurring fantasy of being swept off her feet by a handsome nobleman who will lavish her in the riches she has to envy everyday.]

    That sounds incredibly exploitable but I wouldn¡¯t toy with a maiden¡¯s heart like that. Despicable. But perhaps she can be helpful.

    [The boy standing behind the prince is your second obstacle.]

    Fina is blurred and a young man standing slightly ahead of Prince Samuel comes into focus. Unlike the others, his person doesn¡¯t scream wealth. Like Alana, he is dressed in light armor, a sword hanging from his waist. Clean shaven, serious eyes, and a strong chin, he reminds me of the first sons from the village, the ones who grow up to take care of their families and fathers want their daughters to marry.

    [Browyn, a son of House Griffon which has provided members to the Royal Guards for generations. Very observant, very obedient, and very repressed. He smells of a budding earth affinity.]

    The little imp licks her lips. Oh saints, protect that boy. The last thing a repressed young man needs is a succubus taking an interest in him. ¡°I don¡¯t really care what you get up to as long as it¡¯s consensual and it doesn¡¯t cause me any problems.¡±

    Her grin is vicious. [Last, the one who was watching is Julius.] My focus narrows onto a young man at the back of the group. Dressed in a blue-green robe lined with gold and covered in gold jewelry, he is a beacon of wealth. From his darker skin and short, curly hair, I figure he must come from the coast, perhaps one of the ports.

    [Son of the House Yule, a vassal of the Guiness family.¡±

    ¡°Whoa, a merchant? That doesn¡¯t make any sense. Unless he is in on the plot?¡±

    [At the moment, he seems to be something of a devil on the shoulder. Trying to worm his way into forming a connection with the royal family and the Traditionalists.]

    ¡°Mm. Working with the enemy. Gold really is the one true king.¡± If they are vassals of the Guiness, then their business must be quite restricted. Branching out into new markets, are we? It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve visited Maxine. Wonder if she would want to know about this? Hopefully, he doesn¡¯t become a problem.

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to see it. I make nice with the noble miss. She is undoubtedly charmed by myself. She keeps her new best friend close as she hangs around the prince, which gives us the opportunity to save his life without him ever knowing. Easy as raising taxes. The only question is where to ambush her. The Gold Dorm is out of the question, not even I am bold enough to show up outside her door¡ª¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you should be,¡± Geneva suddenly says from my side, setting down a platter of fruit and cheese. She moves around me to fill Kierra¡¯s glass first. Oh, my dinner¡¯s gone. Sigh. ¡°Fortune favors the bold.¡±

    ¡°If I do that, I¡¯m going to go from a lech to a predator. Men have died for less. Saints protect me.¡±

    Geneva fills my glass, lifting it to my lips. ¡°No, Lou. That¡¯s what we¡¯re here for. You will be perfectly fine.¡±

    I drink obligingly. It sounds very convincing when she says it like that. In lieu of grabbing the cup, I pull Geneva until she sits in my lap, motioning for her to raise the cup again. Reminding myself that this is a circle 7 don, one of the strongest residents of Burning Earth ever recorded, helping me sip my liquor.

    Kierra is right. Really need to break my common sense. Doesn¡¯t fit me anymore. ¡°Okay then. Next Restday, Cecilia Rosefield can expect a visitor.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 21

    The most important thing about meeting Cecilia is that no one gets the wrong idea. It¡¯s already presumptuous to appear on her doorstep without forewarning. A king wouldn¡¯t do such a thing as it is plain rude. For someone of a lower status, like myself? Eh. There¡¯s some leeway as I¡¯m not a man. That wouldn¡¯t go over well with anyone but, with my reputation, it¡¯s very close.

    This has to be seen as something clean from all angles. I already plan to be on my best behavior. My clothes reflect my intentions, as I bring out the more formal wear. Another one of Kierra¡¯s creations, a dark green shirt with a high, circular collar, long sleeves with gold rimmed cuffs my hands are partially covered by, and gold buttons with intricate leaf motifs carved into each one, with black pants. Amazing what that woman comes up with. I don¡¯t care what anyone says, I am the best dressed noble in this place.

    ¡°Here you are, my summoner.¡±

    Geneva enters the bathroom, tail swishing. She stops beside me, wholly absorbed with my reflection, and puts down a tray. I glance over at the clack of it being sat on the counter, staring curiously at the gleaming silver comb and the colorful glass bottle. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I ask, picking up and swishing its contents. A drink? I¡¯m not so much a degenerate to throw one back before lunch.

    My succubus chuckles. ¡°No. Something to tame your mane.¡±

    I snicker. Mane, is it. True, after cutting it, my hair has become¡­puffier.

    ¡°Master prepared it.¡±

    ¡°Erm.¡± My unease is entirely warranted. Everything in my bride¡¯s garden is toxic, to some degree. I have stood by with a stiff smile as she explained to me how a beautifully vibrant flower can produce a poison that rots away flesh and plucked berries that can make someone violently retch until their stomach tears from the force.

    ¡°Should I tell her you¡¯d rather not use it?¡± she asks with a devious smile. Knowing full well there is only one answer to such a question.

    Gathering my courage, I unscrew the top of the bottle. My lips are twisted in a grimace as I pour the oil into my palm, half-expecting it to burn a hole through my skin.

    Instead, a powerful woodsy aroma spiked with something exotic and spicy to the senses assaults my nose. I breathe in deeply, letting out a languid sigh.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like it.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± I¡¯m no stranger to perfumes but they tend to be heavy-handed, floral disasters. Too strong and rather offensive as the noblewomen bathed in rivers of the stuff to drown out the other women, creating a smog of potent smells.

    This is subtle but re-invigorating. Like the first breath outside the walls of a city, the fresh air clearing away the stagnant smells of life cramped inside walls.

    Leave it to my wife to come up with something like this. I resist the urge to shake my head as I rub the oil through my hair, the comb easily taming my unruly locks with its assistance.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± I ask, turning to face Geneva with my best smirk.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    Her tail whips faster in amusement. ¡°Very dashing, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Was hoping for irresistible but dashing will work.¡± I walk out of the room and reflexively bend down to scoop up my imp at her excited ¡°Coo!¡±

    Bell is similarly in her best, which is her normal lovable self. Don¡¯t care what anyone says, she¡¯s going to be the second best looking in that room. Geneva follows me to the door and hands over more gifts. With a box of homemade confections, really isn¡¯t anything she can¡¯t do, a bottle of spirits because it¡¯s the only gift worth giving, and Bell on my shoulder, I¡¯m ready to charm some women.

    For the first time, the doormen at the Gold Dorm don¡¯t look at me with skepticism. A quick glance at my clothes and a proper glare of someone who knows they¡¯re better than everyone else and the doors are opened. Not a moment taken to ask my name. Amazing what a proper display of wealth can do.

    ¡°Bell, do you know her room?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Yes, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Lead the way. Oh, say hello to Miss Talia. We are kind of visiting her home. Let her know that if this wraps up quickly and she has the time, we could spare a chat.¡±

    [Umphrieltalia requests to know our purpose here.]

    ¡°Mm. No harm in sharing.¡±

    Bell pauses a long time. Starting to get a little worried. I jostle the imp. ¡°Problem?¡±

    [Avoiding one. She wanted to accompany us. I explained why it would be bad for several reasons. Then she wondered why she would want to do such an illogical action. I pointed out that she was most likely jealous, thinking that you had set your sights on another woman before her. She is finding the emotion to be a novel experience.]

    ¡°Oh.¡± Really starting to wonder about the kind of life Miss Talia has lived up until now. She seems, ah what¡¯re the right words here? Unacquainted with emotion and human behavior. She clearly can understand it, as she saw through me in a moment, but has no idea how to handle it when it comes to herself. Makes me think she¡¯s lived a very, very sheltered life. Which wouldn¡¯t be that surprising if her mental affinity was discovered at a young age.

    [She will be waiting for you to finish.]

    ¡°Good. The¡ª¡±

    [Cecilia¡¯s room is that way.]

    I follow Bell¡¯s direction to the second floor. From Miss Talia I learned that the building is divided by both status and gender. Men on one side of the building, women on the other. The higher the floor, the higher the status, the better the room. The fourth floor, where Miss Talia¡¯s room is, has only two other rooms, one of which is occupied by the prince.

    As the relative of a duke, Cecilia is on the third floor, which isn¡¯t too bad. Nothing like my, or rather Kierra¡¯s, estate, but I guess it has to be nice enough to satisfy noblewomen accustomed to the finest luxuries the Harvest Kingdom can offer.

    Outside her door, I take a brief moment to primp, getting an approving coo from Bell before I knock. A moment later, the door is opened by Fina, dressed in the black, frumpy dress and white apron she wore before.

    It¡¯s strange. Because of Bell, I feel like I¡¯m far better acquainted with these complete strangers than our brief encounter would imply. Poor thing looks shy enough to sink into her shadow if I take my gaze off her and I feel my heart being tugged. Hesitant brown eyes meet mine and I put on a friendly smile. ¡°Hello. Lourianne Tome. I was hoping to have a word with your mistress?¡±

    ¡°One moment, Lady Tome.¡± The door is closed. With a thought, I shift my ears to that of a wolf. Bell could easily tell me what¡¯s happening on the other side of the door but I¡¯m determined to improve myself.

    ¡°My lady, Lourianne Tome is here to visit you,¡± I hear Fina¡¯s quiet voice say.

    ¡°Hoh?¡± a playful voice answers. ¡°How¡­unexpected. Likely come to grovel for me to save her from the big, scary prince.¡±

    Excuse me, you¡­hmph. Shouldn¡¯t think of a woman that way. I am not embarrassed to say I grovel before my wife but you¡¯re delusional if you think you¡¯re on the same level.

    ¡°Very well. Let her in. I find myself lacking in entertainment. Whatever else is said about her, she is good for shaking up the boring normality of high society.¡±

    ¡°Right away, mistress.¡±

    I change my ears back and paste on my smile as the door is reopened. Fina bows. ¡°The mistress will receive you now.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I hand over my gifts as I enter.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 22

    As expected, someone of Cecilia¡¯s status is granted more than a room, though nothing she¡¯d want to brag about. The first room is decorated with a round table with two chairs off to the side and a comfortable armchair in front of a fireplace. One with symbols carved all around it. A magical fireplace? Suppose it makes sense with the expensive looking rug in front of it. Would hurt to have that go up in flames because of a stray ember.

    Three doors. I¡¯m guessing bedroom, kitchen, servant¡¯s room. Bell?

    [Correct.]

    Mmhmm. Have to say, she has good taste. Noble d¨¦cor tends to lean toward the ostentatious. This is expensive for sure but the designs are subdued to give the room a more ¡®I live here¡¯ look rather than ¡®I spent more on my tablecloth than your family earns in a year¡¯ look. Lots of warm colors.

    Cecilia is waiting at the table. She rises as I approach, extending her hand. Erm. Normally, I would be expected to curtsy. She¡¯s treating me like a nobleman? Doesn¡¯t matter much to me but, hm. Is she mocking me? I feel like I¡¯m being mocked.

    Bowing, I grab her hand and plant a light kiss on her fingers before straightening up. ¡°Cecilia, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.¡± My eyes flick over her. I seem to have caught her off guard, as she is dressed in a simple white dress with thin straps holding it up. Very much comfort clothes and quite distracting with the amount of skin on display.

    Hm. She just greeted me like a nobleman but being dressed like this in front of a man would be scandalous. Is she trying to make me uncomfortable? Seeing if there¡¯s any truth to the lecherous rumors surrounding me? ¡°You look radiant,¡± I greet, taking care my eyes stay on her face.

    ¡°The pleasure is mine. You are quite the character these days.¡± She sits, waving for me to take the seat across from her.

    ¡°I¡¯m proud my name proceeds me.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Then what can I do for the famous jester of the hall?¡±

    Ouch. I manage to hold back my wince, turning it into a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can imagine. Prince Samuel and I seem to have developed a terrible misunderstanding between us. I would very much like to fix it. I hoped you might be able to give me some insight into the matter.¡±

    She raises a hand to her mouth and chuckles behind it. ¡°A misunderstanding you say.¡±

    Yeah, yeah. I understand that he hates me for trampling all over one of his Traditionalist Faction¡¯s goons but I can¡¯t outright call him a petty bastard, now can I? ¡°An incredibly unfortunate one.¡±

    Fina arrives at the table carrying a tea tray. She sets the cups before us along with the cookies baked by Geneva. I lift my cup to taste the brew. Ew. Compared to what my elemental serves, this is dishwater. I¡¯m really getting spoiled. Drowning it with sugar and milk barely helps.

    Across the table, Cecilia lets out an exclamation after biting into one of the treats. ¡°Amazing! How are they so soft?¡±

    ¡°I have a talented cook.¡± Gastronomy, as Geneva called the art of cooking, is a highly undervalued skill in the Harvest Kingdom. The most important things someone looks for is freshness and mana density, as both are thought to increase someone¡¯s mana pool.

    Traditionally, commoners use far more spice and seasonings, the strong herbs used to cover the taste of slightly rancid meat or vegetables about to rot. Frankly, my tongue was dead before it tasted the succubus¡¯ cooking and she has it firmly under her sway now.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Geneva has a whole room dedicated to whatever mysteries she uses in the kitchen, including the thing she called yeast that¡¯s in those cookies, and half the garden for her personal usage.

    ¡°These would not be amiss served in the palace! You must introduce the chef to me. I would love to have the recipe.¡± She takes another bite of the dessert with clear relish.

    ¡°Perhaps next time I shall host you.¡± I sip my tea, resisting the urge to push her to answer. There¡¯s no need to hurry. I have to remind myself that a blade isn¡¯t actually hanging over me.

    After Cecilia finishes two more, she turns her attention to me. ¡°How did you meet your wife?¡± she asks, picking up another treat and settling into her seat like a child about to be told a story. ¡°Everyone wants to know. The two of you are such an¡­unusual pair, for many reasons.¡±

    This is not the time for you to be getting your rocks off. Answer my question first, damn woman! ¡°Haha, it¡¯s nothing too extraordinary. A simple magical accident landed me in the Enchanted Forest. She helped me back home.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve heard that version before. How quaint. But what about what you don¡¯t tell everyone, hm? For example, what exactly was the nature of this ¡®magical accident¡¯ that stranded you so far away? And what happened during the months you were gone? Surely it didn¡¯t take that long to simply cross a border.¡±

    ¡°The forest is a dangerous place.¡±

    ¡°I understand your reticence but there is no need. We are friends, are we not?¡±

    That¡¯s your way of saying that if I want your help, I need to suck up to you, isn¡¯t it? This meeting is becoming annoying. I adjust Bell in my lap, rubbing the base of her horn as I debate how I want to handle this. ¡°I was on my way to start education at the Grand Hall during the spring when our carriage was attacked by a caster calling himself Crowley Cain. He had designs to use me to power a spell beyond his means.¡±

    ¡°My. How are you alive?¡±

    ¡°Kierra has a physical affinity.¡±

    ¡°How fortuitous.¡±

    ¡°Incredibly.¡± Though I suspect the glorious and glossy Cosmo did not drop me as randomly as I initially suspected. ¡°The time it took us to return here included my recovery time.¡±

    ¡°So, your relationship developed as she nursed you back to health. You must be more charming than you look to woo an elf while on your sickbed.¡±

    More charming than you¡¯ll ever find out. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s surprising. You could be the star of the show and yet you hardly make any appearances among our peers. Perhaps you have a different group you wish to impress? Perhaps elven nobility?¡±

    I shake my head with mock regret. ¡°I¡¯ve never been to the elven continent.¡±

    ¡°I find it rather surprising your wife wouldn¡¯t want to visit home, at least once, before immigrating to a continent where none of her kind are.¡±

    ¡°I did raise the issue, of course. It would only be polite to meet my extended family. Unfortunately, elves are not welcoming to strangers in their homes.¡±

    ¡°More¡¯s the pity, I suppose.¡± Her dramatic sigh says she doesn¡¯t believe me. ¡°And what is that strange creature that has been clinging to you? I¡¯m never seen anything like it before.¡±

    I look down at Bell. ¡°This is Bell. I am a summoner and she is an elemental summoned from Burning Earth.¡±

    ¡°Burning Earth! The home of the succubi?¡± Her eyes turn suspicious.

    ¡°One in the same. Please relax. Bell is an imp, not a thrall that features in most of the rumors that you are calling to mind. Her abilities lie in the physical affinity mainly, their kind acting as servants and minions for the more powerful succubi.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Reaching up, I set Bell on the table and hand her my teacup. Cecilia¡¯s lips turn up into a smile as the imp sips from the cup in a refined matter. No one can resist cuteness. ¡°She¡¯s harmless.¡± Unlike the prince I need you to get off my back.

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ve made you wait long enough.¡± Cecilia leans forward, eyes narrowing. I get a distinct feeling of a hawk eyeing prey. ¡°Prince Samuel is not an unreasonable man. Unfortunately, he is prone to his whims. Simply trying to talk him out of it is likely to make him dig his feet in.¡± Like a child? Or a donkey? ¡°You will have to deal with his attentions for a bit but I can whisper a good word. A woman who can deliver such an excellent gift deserves at least that much.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate it.¡± I don¡¯t try to hide my relief as I let out a loud sigh. Heh. This is the first step. Now that she¡¯s shown a willingness to help me, a few concurrent visits and ¡®accidental meetings¡¯ and we might become friendly enough for me to infiltrate their little group.

    ¡°Tell me, Lou. Where do you see yourself in ten years?¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 23

    ¡°Um.¡± Saints. This took a strange turn. ¡°Ten years? I rarely think that far.¡±

    ¡°You should. After all, everything we do today shapes our tomorrow. The carefree days of my childhood have brought me to where I am today, at the Grand Hall.¡± She turns away, eyes filled with an emotion I can¡¯t make out. ¡°A long time ago, I was brought to the royal palace to play in their inner court. With no thought of anything, I laughed and chatted with the royal siblings as instructed, following my father¡¯s words to make friends with an innocent heart.¡±

    She shakes her head before turning back to me. ¡°We shape our own destinies, to an extent most are not aware.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Master Lou, she speaks of Samuel¡¯s interest in her. He became infatuated with her as children and, because of his attention, she was meant to be his fianc¨¦. However, since the king waylaid her father¡¯s plans, she has become his eyes, her uncle Duke Rosefield paying for her to attend the Hall despite her mediocre talent. She hopes to find a powerful caster as a backer to secure her independence from her house.]

    ¡°Myself? I am here by circumstance more than what I can contribute to the kingdom. But it is a circumstance I am not willing to waste. I was wondering about you.¡±

    Oh saints, is she eyeing me as a potential sponsor?

    [Yes. She is curious as to why the elf is interested in you. Your charm is not a sufficient explanation. Though her interest is fleeting. I believe some humans call it fishing.]

    ¡°Well, if I had to say¡­in ten years, I will probably be off this continent, out exploring the world.¡± There. That should be enough to quell any interest in me. It¡¯s not even a lie.

    Ten years should be plenty of time to build up my casting repertoire. Then it¡¯s time to see everything. First will be the Harvest Continent, to fulfill my promise with Alana. Then I¡¯ll visit all the coastal cities and dungeons that bards sing about.

    After that, I¡¯ll have to go back to the elven continent. Explore all their provinces, see this clan of elves with succubi in their blood because of course, see that Sacred Tree, and duel my mother-in-law, preferably not to the death but eh.

    Then, the world. I¡¯ll go to Green Mountain and exterminate every troll in existence, in case my wife is still infatuated with them by then. See the Goblin Burrows that are said to cover the whole of the island. Maybe Jac¡¯s little adventure will be ready or even completed so I can see the mysterious Tome family homeland.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Go to the Dragon Isles because dragons. Who would turn down a chance to see the creatures hailed to be the strongest in the world?

    Not to mention all the other places. While in the Dusk Province, Kierra showed me a map. I¡¯ve heard that in the kingdom, maps depicting the whole of the continent are exceedingly rare. The Guiness family must have a map including Green Mountain and the Dragon Isles, and they keep the secrets of their trade routes close. But this map¡­it showed landmasses I¡¯ve never heard of, not even legends. Entire peoples and places lost to history after the Great War that divided all the races.

    Talk about an adventure.

    Ack! Hey, hey, why are you looking at me like that? Her eyes are practically shining. That was supposed to make you less interested in me!

    ¡°Truly? I had heard you were quite close with the Guiness family. Do you hope to join their expeditions?¡±

    ¡°Coo coo.¡± [Haha! The girl sees you as a gold mine now, Master Lou.]

    Stop laughing, imp! You¡¯re supposed to stop me from making critical mistakes like this!

    [This will guarantee that she becomes close to you and invites you into their inner circle. Is that not what you wanted?]

    Cheh. Damn elementals and their superior logic. I suppose this is a good thing? Sigh. ¡°Perhaps, though my options aren¡¯t limited to the Guiness family. I am married to an elf who can successfully cross the Enchanted Forest. The first place I would want to go is there.¡±

    ¡°It would be an incredible journey, I¡¯m sure.¡± Something about the way you¡¯re smiling at me makes me think you want to be invited. You¡¯re not. Ever. Even if¡ª

    [Master Lou, Prince Samuel is heading this way.]

    Damn! I don¡¯t need to run into him again before Cecilia has a chance to work on him or this will all be meaningless. Not to mention I just don¡¯t want to run into him, period. Time to make a quick getaway. Bell, quick. I need an excuse¡ª

    [That won¡¯t be necessary.]

    ¡°It seems like our time is up.¡± I look over to Cecilia and see Fina straightening up. ¡°My servant has told me that Samuel is on his way to visit. I don¡¯t believe he¡¯d take kindly to you being in my chambers so it would be best to make a quick exit.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± We stand together. ¡°I enjoyed our talk.¡±

    ¡°Surprisingly, I did as well. Perhaps we will have chance to repeat it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be delighted.¡± Not having to force my smile at all, I give a quick bow before escaping the room.

    [Hide around the corner.]

    I follow her instructions then shift my ears to that of a wolf, wanting to know if we were spotted. Thankfully, I hear when the prince comes around the opposite corner. He¡¯s muttering to himself but I can¡¯t quite make out the words. What¡¯s he saying?

    [He is practicing asking Cecilia out for a trip to the market. Ah. Before, I was only able to pick up his random lustful thoughts but it appears the prince is in love. How amusing.]

    For some unknown reason, my stomach sinks. I have a terrible, unfounded, and illogical feeling about the future. One I can¡¯t pin down so I shove it aside. Today was a good, productive day. I won¡¯t let some boy¡¯s crush weigh on my mind. ¡°Tell Miss Talia we¡¯re coming to see her.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 24

    Manaday, right after Mano dismisses us, I spot Fina lurking at the edge of the field. I can feel her eyes on me as Geneva helps me to my feet but she looks away when I look over.

    ¡°A friend of yours?¡± Alana asks, coming to stand next to me. ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve seen her before.¡±

    ¡°You have. She was standing beside the noblewoman when Prince Samuel was verbally bludgeoning me.¡±

    ¡°¡­what are you doing, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Making friends. Come on.¡± I grab her by the arm and pull her along as I walk over to Fina. The girl¡¯s nervousness intensifies with an extra person to address, her feet shuffling and fingers twisting. It¡¯s kind of cute. Didn¡¯t think I went for the shy type but, well.

    [You should be careful], Geneva¡¯s voice echoes through my mind. [This one¡¯s demeanor is hiding a substantially developed water affinity. By the smell of her, I¡¯d say she is very close to being a higher adept.]

    It takes all my self-control to restrain my reaction to a twitch of my brows. I stare at Fina critically. Higher adept. One level below the highest-level master casters, a minimum coefficient of 350. Not only that, higher adept implies a certain mastery over an element. Like how, ugh I¡¯m disgusted just thinking about him, that bald bastard Aurelius can control the wind with such precision that he can walk on air.

    She doesn¡¯t look like someone who can drown a city with a single spell. She doesn¡¯t look like she could hurt a fly. Saints, the Rosefield family must care a great deal about Cecilia and her connection to Prince Samuel. At least that¡¯s why I hope they have this hidden weapon tucked away at the Hall.

    ¡°Hello, Fina. I assume you¡¯re here for me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lady Tome.¡± She bows her head. ¡°My mistress has invited you to dine with her today at the Gold Dorm. She wanted to pass on her assurances that it will be a harmonious meal.¡±

    Harmonious is good. ¡°I would be happy to accept.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m coming too,¡± Alana declares. She gives me a hard look when I turn to her. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t deal with them alone. Good intentions or otherwise.¡±

    Gah, my heart! Slow down.

    I make a show of swooning, Geneva promptly stepping forward to keep me upright. Alana snorts and rolls her eyes but Fina giggles at my dramatics. Worth it.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± I ask, straightening up. ¡°Is there room at the table for another?¡±

    ¡°Even if there isn¡¯t, I¡¯m coming.¡±

    ¡°Stop it, you.¡± I lightly slap her shoulder with the back of my hand. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to infringe on anyone¡¯s hospitality.¡±

    ¡°I apologize. I cannot speak for my mistress. I will bring her reply as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°Hold on a second.¡± My words make her raise her bowed head. ¡°No need to scurry off so quickly. You can walk with us for a bit, can¡¯t you? There are a few things I want to ask you.¡±

    ¡°¡­as you like, Lady Tome.¡±

    Hey, Geneva. Did she accept because of my charm or because she wants to keep an eye on me?

    [The latter of course, Lou.] What do you mean ¡®of course¡¯? [You are an unknown element and a potential threat to her mistress. The girl is a bit flighty but she takes her role as a guard dog quite seriously. I would like to accompany you for a while.]

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    Aw, you¡¯re worried about me?

    [Yes. Predators guard their dinner quite viciously.]

    ¡­I swear I don¡¯t discipline you enough.

    I shake my head to clear my thoughts of our mental conversation, focusing on Fina as we walk to the Foundation fields. ¡°So, Fina. How long have you worked for Lady Rosefield?¡±

    ¡°I have served the mistress since the age of five.¡±

    Mm. I could also take that to mean she must have been trained during that time too. It¡¯d take at least that amount of time to get a young girl like this close to higher adept, not to mention an incredible amount of talent. ¡°Well, you got quite lucky. Not many have the opportunity to attend the Hall. Does Lady Rosefield allow you to take lessons?¡±

    ¡°I only attend to serve her while she studies.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a pity. Many have made their legend here. To serve the Rosefields, I¡¯d imagine you are someone of talent yourself.¡±

    [She is getting suspicious of you, Lou.]

    Damn. Impossible to tell with her face hidden behind her hair. ¡°Ah, well. Perhaps I might speak on your behalf. There is nothing better than seeing a woman blossom and something tells me you¡¯re full of potential.¡±

    [Mm. That was sufficient to make her think you are flirting. She¡¯s flattered but you are not her type.]

    Yeah? What is her type?

    [A pretty boy dressed in tight pants atop a white steed with a gleaming smile. A prince to swoop her out of her mundane life and carry her to his castle to marry his princess.]

    Hm. Like¡­Marcus? The second part doesn¡¯t apply but the first¡­ ¡°Do you get along with your mistress¡¯ friends? This might be a bit insensitive but it must be difficult for someone of your position to be around such¡­strong personalities every day.¡±

    ¡°Mistress and His Highness are both of impeccable character.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but you can¡¯t speak openly with them, can you? I want you to know, you have no such worries with me. I¡¯d say drop the titles but that might be stretching your sensibilities too much. And it¡¯d hardly reflect well on your mistress if her maid was seen breaking etiquette.¡±

    She looks up at me. ¡°Thank you for your concern. I am not without friends though. Marcus is Prince¡¯s Samuel¡¯s manservant. We get along fine.¡±

    ¡°Circumstance is a fine starter of friendships.¡±

    [Excellent job, my summoner.]

    Hehe. Now that her mind is turned to Marcus, Geneva can freely mine her for information. My job is to keep her there. ¡°I remember him well. Nearly as aggressive as the prince. He must be very protective of him, an admirable quality in a manservant I suppose.¡±

    ¡°They are very close. Marcus sees him as a brother and Prince Samuel holds him in the fondest confidence.¡± She lets out a little sigh at the end. A regretful sigh.

    [Not a circumstance she can relate to with her own mistress.]

    Ah. Have to bring her back to Marcus. ¡°Ah, well. Perhaps you could ask your comrade for some advice, hm? A dashing young man like him would happily save a damsel in distress.¡±

    Hehe. I can see her blushing as her whole face goes red.

    [A fatal blow.]

    You sound like you¡¯re enjoying this too much. ¡°Haha, you can ignore me. I¡¯m just a girl who loves love. This was supposed to be my rose-colored debut at the Hall and yet I have to deal with the unfair attentions of my ¡®betters¡¯. Dodging a bunch of egos makes it difficult to pursue the talented beauties here.¡± I let out a deep sigh. ¡°Hopefully when this terrible misunderstanding is cleared, I will get to see the prince¡¯s impeccable character.¡±

    [I have everything that I can retrieve, I believe.]

    I casually put a hand on Fina¡¯s shoulder. Have to admit, it¡¯s a little amusing when she jumps at the contact. ¡°As much as I want us to be friends, I can see I¡¯m pushing you a little. Go on, get going.¡± I let her go. ¡°I¡¯ll thaw that caution of yours another day.¡±

    ¡°¡­then I¡¯ll take my leave.¡±

    I watch as she hurries away. Conclusion, Geneva?

    [A pure of heart, completely indentured, very talented, young caster. She has no connection to the plot and no knowledge of it. However, Marcus frequently speaks with her while their masters are busy. She believes it is on behalf of the prince that wants to be closer to Cecilia but perhaps not.]

    I¡¯d bet my dinner there is an ulterior motive behind it. Poor Fina, being used as a pawn and not even knowing it. Marcus, I had nothing against you before this, hell, actually sympathized with the want to see that annoying royal dead, but you¡¯ve crossed a line. If the prince dies, an investigation would be launched. Complicit or not, if Fina had any involvement, she will be punished. Innocent lamb sacrificed for someone else¡¯s ego.

    That really gets on my nerves.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think she was your type,¡± Alana says.

    ¡°Jealous?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Wow. You could play along a little. Way to trample all over my heart.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure your wife will be happy to piece it back together. Don¡¯t get that girl involved in anything. Those people will chew her up and throw her out like trash.¡±

    She¡¯s aware of the same truths I am. But I¡¯m a bit offended. ¡°You think I would?¡± I ask, giving her a look.

    ¡°¡­no.¡±

    ¡°Good. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m the good guy in this whole mess.¡±

    ¡°I believe you but somehow that still doesn¡¯t sound right.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 25

    I smile smugly as I enter the Gold Dorm¡¯s dining room carrying Bell, Alana tense at my side. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t trust Cecilia¡¯s invitation but if something were to happen, I want some muscle with me to make sure I come out alive. Unharmed would be nice too.

    It¡¯s easy to find Prince Samuel and his entourage. They have the largest table, close to the windows so they can watch those coming and going. The prince is seated with Cecilia on his right and Browyn on his left. Marcus and Fina stand behind their respective owners.

    My smile stretches wider when Marcus notices me. He steps toward us with stiff shoulders, drawing the attention of the table. ¡°To dare defy His Highness, you have no shame. This time, we will not be so lenient. My prince, please give the order and I will be happy to remove this offensive woman from your presence.¡±

    Prince Samuel is more than happy to give that order but before he can, a pleasant voice interrupts. ¡°I hope you wouldn¡¯t do something as crude as throwing away one of my guests.¡±

    Marcus turns, face pure incredulity. ¡°Lady Rosefield¡­¡±

    She giggles. ¡°You heard me correctly. Be a dear and move aside. Lou, you can sit next to me.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I slide by him and take the offered seat. Alana grabs a chair from an empty table and drops between me and Browyn. The two of them eye each other, coming to a quick accord as they turn away at the same time. Two of a kind? Browyn, that is several points for you.

    This is a very important lunch. Not only is it a chance to get this rabid dog of a prince off my back, I also have all the likely suspects involved in his assassination in front of me. No better chance to get to the bottom of this mess.

    Do a good job, Bell.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Your imp is quite adorable,¡± Cecilia says, eyeing Bell with a small smile. ¡°I had thought summoning a barbaric art of courting monsters. Perhaps it requires more attention.¡±

    ¡°Summoning is an amazing art.¡± I reach up and rub the base of Bell¡¯s horns, the little imp rubbing against me to show her pleasure.

    ¡°Some would say it is an art used by the incompetent,¡± Prince Samuel snipes.

    ¡°Some. The way of the caster is self-improvement. A summoner permanently inhibits their mana pool to secure the cooperation of another being. Giving a piece of themself to make someone else stronger. It doesn¡¯t sound appealing at first but as nobles, you should know the power of cooperation. A group is often more productive than an individual. Different skillsets coming together to form a greater whole.¡±

    ¡°Yet we wouldn¡¯t be here without the great king who conquered this continent and the saints who have defended it.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. The first Harvest king who fended off the other races, securing a home for humanity. Powerful he was, but he knew nothing of the land he found. It took the expertise of others in different fields to cultivate the land, build his cities, and lay down his roads.¡± Let¡¯s not mention how the Tome family summoned elementals who helped with that. Might be pushing his belief in his almighty ancestor. ¡°It takes a nation.¡±

    ¡°Both valid points,¡± Cecilia says. ¡°Lou, you seem quite passionate on the subject. I think this is the most I¡¯ve ever heard you say.¡±

    ¡°What can I say? It¡¯s my family¡¯s legacy. I am a summoner, through and through.¡± Only subject I have complete confidence in. Ask me about the benefit of marrying commoners into the main family, management of territories, or politics and I¡¯m lost. Talk to me about the different planes of existence, the benefits and costs of contracting multiple elementals, and how elementals have affected the development of the kingdom? No problem.

    ¡°Do you plan on studying summoning here? There is an entire building dedicated to it.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. There is a great amount we can learn from the planewalkers.¡±

    Samuel snorts across the table. ¡°I wonder what your thrall has been teaching you.¡±

    ¡°Geo is very knowledgeable about many subjects. For one, she is the chef you are interested in, Lady Rosefield.¡±

    ¡°What!?¡± Cecilia moves her chair closer. ¡°Amazing! Is it a technique from her world?¡±

    ¡°No. That is the beauty of summoning. We, humans, are not the only summoners. It is an art that has proliferated through many realms. Geo has been through several planes, taking prized knowledge from each one. With their ability to shapeshift, succubi are some of the most successful planewalkers. She is a veritable font of information. That is why I formed a contract with her.¡± I hold back from glaring at the prince.

    ¡°You must bring her around to teach Fina that technique. I would be quite grateful.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, Lady Rosefield,¡± Marcus says, coming off his wall. ¡°That would hardly be appropriate.¡±

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    ¡°Be careful.¡± Her voice gains a trace of admonishment. ¡°One would think you were trying to besmirch the character of one of your betters, an action hardly fitting for the servant of a prince.¡±

    Chastised, Marcus steps back. ¡°I would never.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [The boy did not like that. Humiliation brings all kinds of nasty thoughts to the surface.]

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know the two of you were¡­so acquainted with each other.¡± Prince Samuel looks between Cecilia and me, his frown steadily growing. That¡¯s not good. I¡¯m supposed to be making friends.

    ¡°I believe we got the wrong opinion of her,¡± Cecilia says with a bright smile. ¡°What happened with Peter was a shame but we¡¯re all prone to our spats. His shame is truly his own fault, falling apart like that. If Lourianne was from a more notable house, you would have lauded her handling of the situation. I, myself, am tempted to recruit her for the family.¡±

    ¡°You flatter me.¡± Oh saints, don¡¯t make me reject you.

    She chuckles. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You are on to bigger things, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The servers arrive right on time to give me an excuse from answering. As we all place our orders, I look over to Marcus and Fina. Standing a distance away, trying to keep neutral expressions with hungry bellies while their owners order up a feast. At least, that¡¯s what I¡¯m imagining. Am I correct?

    [Fina is off in another one of her daydreams. Marcus is ruminating in his bitter thoughts. Ripe for the picking.]

    Mm. Then let¡¯s shake the tree. ¡°What about those two?¡± I say gesturing toward the servants. ¡°There¡¯s room enough at the table and they have to have lunch too.¡±

    Cecilia sighs. ¡°You really are carefree.¡±

    ¡°A servant doesn¡¯t eat at the same table as their master,¡± Prince Samuel says. What¡¯s impressive is that he doesn¡¯t sound haughty. He says it with a bland tone that tells me it¡¯s not a personal belief but just how the world is. Like the sky is blue and grass is green.

    ¡°Oh, come on. We could be a little flexible, couldn¡¯t we? It surely isn¡¯t a matter of status. Marcus, I¡¯ve heard that you¡¯re the son of Marquis Ferraro? You probably have better table manners than me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about blood,¡± the prince continues. ¡°Things are done a certain way for good reason. Servants must stay in their place. They will be fine.¡±

    [Such delicious anger.]

    I shrug. ¡°As you say, Your Highness. You must know best. I notice someone from your group is missing. A flashy fellow?¡±

    ¡°You must be talking about Julius,¡± Cecilia says. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t group him with us. He¡¯s far too much of an insect, intent on latching onto Samuel and draining him of every drop.¡±

    ¡°Merchants are all the same,¡± Prince Samuel says. ¡°He is better than most though. Unlike those Guiness peacocks. Peasants who think gold can rival the years of history and service of the great houses.¡± He gives me a nasty look. ¡°The Tome family shares in that history. Someone of your lineage should know better than to mix with those gold-grubbing pigs.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know about that. Anyone can be friends under the right circumstances. Boundaries, that¡¯s what important. As you said, people must learn their place and there won¡¯t be any problems. I¡¯m sure you have a similar understanding with your merchant¡­friend.¡±

    His glare eases a little. ¡°Hmph.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve yet to introduce your friend.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve been remiss.¡± I clear my throat. Alana gives me a look, likely sensing my mischievous intentions. I ignore her, of course. ¡°This is Alana James, a great knight-to-be wielding the rare and awe-inspiring light affinity. I¡¯ll have you know my wife has taken a personal interest in her development and her eye for ability is never wrong. We have become good friends.¡±

    Heh. That got them interested. Alana shifts in her seat. ¡°Lady Rosefield, Prince Samuel, thank you for allowing me at your table.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quite welcome.¡± Cecilia is eyeing her. ¡°James. I am surprised that I haven¡¯t heard of you before now, what with your talent.¡±

    Alana clears her throat. ¡°I was engrossed in my training. My goal is to push north past the Bleak Peaks to claim the northernmost corner of the continent for the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Ambitious.¡±

    ¡°Another militant fanatic,¡± the prince sneers. ¡°There is nothing past those mountains besides cold and ice. Sending an army up there to fight the horrendous creatures that thrive on death and winter winds will do nothing but waste money and lives, like it has for years. Fort Victory was built to protect the kingdom, not to wage the James¡¯ family private war.¡±

    ¡°Those who go past those mountains are the best and the bravest,¡± Alana retorts, steel in her voice. ¡°You would rather the strongest knights in the kingdom stand around with their swords hanging limply? Going out there and fighting manabeasts is what makes Harvest knights great. If you are here, you must want to improve yourself. One day, you¡¯ll have to do the same thing. You would be smart to have some of those ¡®militant fanatics¡¯ at your side when you do.¡±

    I blink at her. What happened to my cool-headed friend? The one who always tells me to stay out of trouble? Saints protect her, does she just lose all common sense when something she cares about is attacked? I owe her a drink when this is over. The sour look on Samuel¡¯s face is priceless.

    [Give her two. Thanks to her outburst, I know the boy¡¯s plan.]

    Maybe a kiss, too. I swear she is determined to make me fall for her. It¡¯s not good for my heart.

    ¡°There is no need.¡± The quiet Browyn speaks up. Oh, he¡¯s got a nice voice. Deep but smooth. ¡°I will protect the prince from all threats.¡±

    He glares at Alana who sighs. ¡°Forgive me. I didn¡¯t mean any offense, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. If your house insists on madness, feel free to throw your lives away. I object to sending members of the Harvest Royal Knights along on your suicidal quests.¡±

    ¡°This conversation is much too dour!¡± Cecilia proclaims. ¡°We are casters of the Grand Hall, forsaking our familial duties to pursue greatness in the art of magic. There¡¯s no need to divide ourselves on politics we have no part in. You all should be indulging in our fleeting youth. Except Lou, perhaps. She is far ahead of us, having already married. What do you think of that, Alana?¡±

    Hey, what are you trying to say?

    My friend also catches onto her insinuations, snorting in a disinterested way. ¡°I have no idea how she managed to seduce Teacher but they seem happy enough. I can only hope to have a relationship like theirs.¡±

    Aww. ¡°Course you will.¡± I pat her shoulder. ¡°Any man would be lucky to have you. Or woman. No need to limit yourself. You too, Lady Rosefield, if you haven¡¯t been engaged already.¡± I wink at her.

    Across the table, Samuel chokes on a sip of wine, hastily covering it by wiping his mouth. He shoots Cecilia an incredulous look that makes her laugh. ¡°No need to look that way, Samuel. While I find Lou¡¯s proclivities amusing, I don¡¯t share them.¡±

    ¡°Shame that.¡± With the information I need in hand, I can finally relax. Who knows? Cecilia is not bad company, Browyn seems a decent sort, and Marcus is forced to keep quiet. There¡¯s a chance I could enjoy this lunch. Maybe I won¡¯t regret getting involved in this mess.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 26

    ¡°Alright, my little imp.¡± I grab Bell off my shoulders and hold her in my arms as I walk away from the Gold Dorm. Lunch ended on a pleasant note. I¡¯ll never be able to relax around them, for more than one reason, but there¡¯s hope we can be friendly. Especially after I save the prince¡¯s life. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [The plan is rather simple. It seems the prince is preparing to take leave from the Hall to hunt manabeasts. Marcus plans to arrange a fatal accident.]

    ¡°So simple no one would think twice about it.¡± Manabeasts are dangerous. Going against one means risking your life, no matter who you are. ¡°But wouldn¡¯t that be incredibly difficult? Samuel wouldn¡¯t go alone. Browyn would be there and probably a whole host of other people to keep him safe. How exactly does he plan on getting past all those watching eyes?¡±

    [In his mind, I saw him associate the concept of hunters as allies. He must be planning to bribe one of the guilds, direct the prince into choosing them as bodyguards, and then they will collectively betray him.]

    ¡°That¡¯s insanity. The crown will investigate anyone involved. They¡¯ll be hunted to the ends of the kingdom.¡±

    [Yes. So, to secure their cooperation, Marcus must be offering them a way to escape the country and enough gold to live comfortable enough lives.]

    As if. He¡¯s a useless spare son. That means he doesn¡¯t have the capital or the connections to bribe and relocate an entire team of hunters. He has a rich backer and if we¡¯re talking about getting out of the country¡­the Expansionists. ¡°Julius?¡± He¡¯s a vassal of the Guiness family. If anyone could do it, it¡¯d be him.

    [He is the only one that I haven¡¯t had the chance to examine. The extent of his involvement is yet to be determined but I agree with you. Someone with immense capital is funding this plan.]

    I grunt in agreement. What a mess. ¡°He¡¯d have to be an idiot but those aren¡¯t exactly rare. Alright. We can talk to Maxine. She can snoop around a lot more effectively than I can. Ah, I feel a little bad getting her involved.¡± Though perhaps I shouldn¡¯t? If Julius is really involved, her family will share in the responsibility to some extent. She¡¯d undoubtedly want to stop this assassination more than I do.

    [Then you will just have to make it¡ªMaster Lou, Marcus is approaching you.]

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    I stiffen but stop the urge to turn around. The hand landing firmly on my shoulder still manages to make me jump despite being forewarned. I turn and Marcus indeed stands before me. He doesn¡¯t look very happy. ¡°Marcus? Is there something I could do for you? Or the prince?¡±

    ¡°¡­what are you doing?¡± His eyes are hard as he stares down at me. Cheh, tall bastard. ¡°By all accounts, you should be doing all that you can to get away from us.¡±

    ¡°Is it so surprising I would be on my best behavior? Doesn¡¯t do me any good to be hated by your owner.¡±

    His lips curl in distaste. ¡°I don¡¯t know what your game is but I suggest you stay away from Lady Rosefield and Prince Samuel. They don¡¯t need someone like you hanging around.¡±

    ¡°You care a lot about your owner, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only natural. As Prince Samuel¡¯s manservant, I prioritize his well-being over all else. That includes a lecherous fool besmirching his reputation.¡±

    ¡°Hilarious.¡± Here¡¯s an idea. If I put the fear of Cosmo into this fool right now, can¡¯t I end this nonsense? Bell, put on your mean face.

    He takes a step back as the imp hisses, glaring at him with all four of her eyes. I claim his step and take another, putting me uncomfortably close to him. My own glare has less power having to look up at him but I¡¯m sure having the conversation suddenly turned on him is unsettling enough.

    ¡°You are a very good actor, Mr. Manservant, but I can see right through you. You aren¡¯t as dedicated as you seem, are you? Inside you¡¯re a knot of greed and bitterness, wrapped in cold anger. Ready to lash out. I wonder at who, hm?¡±

    He looks at me with wide eyes and takes another step backwards. A fearful step. ¡°What do you know?¡±

    ¡°Know? I don¡¯t know anything. Is there something you want to tell me?¡±

    He frowns so deeply, I¡¯m a little worried it¡¯ll be stuck that way if I keep bullying him. Holding back a laugh, I slap his shoulder. ¡°What are you getting so worked up for? Who of us isn¡¯t a little bitter about life? Nothing a good drink can¡¯t fix. I¡¯ll get a bottle of the best stuff in the Myriad Zone. Protecting royalty must be thirsty work, huh? But I know Prince Samuel is perfectly safe in your hands.¡±

    Giving him a wink, I slap his shoulder again before walking away. Perfectly vague but he knows what I mean. How about it, Bell? Do you think I scared him enough?

    ¡°Coo!¡± [He is disturbed but his determination is firm. I don¡¯t think this will be enough to stop him but it should make him more cautious.]

    Hm. Good enough, I suppose. Hopefully, after a little time to think on it, he learns to value his life and gives up. Or, he panics and exposes himself on his own. That¡¯d save me quite a bit of work.

    Now that I know his master plan, all I have to do is ¡®persuade¡¯ the hunters he has recruited to give up on their murderous ways and this thing will be solved without anyone knowing the role I played. A good day, a good day. Bell, you¡¯ll go visit Maxine. Tell her how much you think she should know to get her cooperation investigating Julius and the local guilds.

    ¡°Coo~¡± [As you wish.]

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 27

    What a beautiful morning. The sun is shining despite the approaching autumn, and birds chirp happily as they flit through the garden. Kierra is seated at our dining table, sipping a cup of tea, a masterpiece come to life as the golden light plays across her. Bell is adorable as ever, balancing on her little toes in a chair as she begs for slices of fruit from Geneva who dangles them above her with a mischievous smile. Sigh. Life¡¯s good. ¡°Morning.¡±

    Kierra looks up just in time for me to kiss her thoroughly, ignoring the cup raised for her to take a drink. She puts it down soon enough, hands grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. ¡°Good morning to you,¡± she purrs when we eventually pull away. ¡°What¡¯s brought this on?¡±

    ¡°I am in a good mood because today is going to be a good day.¡± I give her one more peck before taking the seat next to her. Geneva puts breakfast in front of me. Saints know how she got to the kitchen and back that fast. Or maybe I lost track of time.

    I spear a sausage and wave it toward my wife. ¡°Today is the day we begin to wrap this mess up. Marcus is cornered and it¡¯s only a matter of time before Maxine can give me a list of his possible collaborators among the hunters in the city. With their names, Bell can confirm which group he¡¯s working with, we silently take care of them, and I leave the prince¡¯s life on vaguely friendly terms.¡± I bite into it, eyes closing with satisfaction. I love it when a plan comes together.

    ¡°I see.¡± I don¡¯t have to open my eyes to know Kierra is leaning forward, wearing her usual smirk. ¡°And what will you do should your plan go awry?¡±

    Shh. No. Bad elf. Don¡¯t bring me bad luck. ¡°Nothing¡¯s going to go wrong. How can it? It¡¯s hardly as if he can shut me up.¡±

    ¡°Really? Are you sure you¡¯ve thought of everything?¡±

    I reluctantly open my eyes, fighting a pout. ¡°¡­do you see something?¡±

    She shrugs and sits back, giving her neglected tea attention. ¡°Who knows? Politicking is not one of my strengths. I avoided all talk of queenship. What I do know is that the most dangerous animal is a cornered animal. Never let down your guard, especially when you¡¯re sure of victory. That¡¯s when you¡¯re at your most vulnerable.¡±

    I shake my head. Haaah, dammit it all. ¡°You¡¯re ruining my good mood.¡± Now I¡¯m going to be nitpicking in my thoughts for the entire day, wondering if there¡¯s some way my actions can come back to bite me in the backside.

    ¡°Aw, am I?¡± I watch her suspiciously as she stands up and walks toward me. ¡°Then I¡¯ll just have to make it better.¡±

    My heart leaps into my throat as she yanks my chair back and kneels in front of me, hands going for the buckle holding up my pants.

    ¡°W-w-wait a minute.¡± I grab her shoulders but don¡¯t actually push her away. Not that it matters because she ignores me. A hand grabs my ass and lifts me up, forcing me to grab the sides of the chair to keep from tipping over. In the same moment, she yanks down my pants and underwear, the clothes pooling around my ankles.

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    ¡°Kii¡­we can¡¯t start something now. I¡¯ve got to leave soon,¡± I say uselessly as she pushes my thighs apart, moving between them.

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll have to be quick.¡± She gives me a mocking grin. Oh saints, she isn¡¯t talking about running to my class, is she?

    ¡°You¡ª¡± I¡¯m cut off by a groan as she runs her tongue along my lower lips. My head lolls backward and my hands tangle in her silky hair as she devours me.

    -

    Turns out I had to be quick in both meanings. I¡¯m out of breath after sprinting to Mana Work which, after Kierra¡¯s training, is pretty fast. Not faster than Geneva who skipped along beside me. Literally. Would I even notice if she strained herself? Her magic use is subtle and seamless.

    The field is filled with my fellow initiates when I arrive. Hm? I¡¯m used to getting strange stares but this is more attention than usual. And their eyes seem a bit¡­hostile. A few are outright glaring. What did I do to any of you?

    I try to catch Mano¡¯s eyes but even the young instructor avoids my gaze.

    Okay, I¡¯m a little worried.

    Geneva chuckles inside my mind. [You are quite hated, my summoner.]

    But why!? Ah, Alana. Finally, someone who isn¡¯t avoiding me. Though she looks uncomfortable as I hurry to her side. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when class is over,¡± she whispers.

    Thankfully, the class involves little interaction with my fellows and the hour passes quickly. The moment Mano dismisses us, Alana drags me aside. She looks nervous. I¡¯m never seen that before. ¡°What exactly is going on?¡±

    ¡°There is a rumor is going around.¡± She looks to Geneva before meeting my eyes. ¡°When I arrived, a guy tried to warn me about you. Apparently, you are an immoral deviant who is using her thrall to build a harem amongst the noblewomen of the Hall to raise your own status. Following in the footsteps of the Grimoires, you tried and failed to sway the mind of the prince and are taking your revenge by ensnaring Lady Rosefield.¡± She chuckles, no doubt at my dropped jaw. ¡°Or so they say.¡±

    I don¡¯t know what part of that speech is more upsetting. Insinuating that I would use Geneva to seduce women? Comparing me to the Grimoires? Saying I tried to seduce the prince, a man? Each one is so outrageous, I can only sputter when trying to respond.

    And how has the rumor become so prolific in a single night that everyone is avoiding me? How fast does word of mouth spread? Not to mention these idiots are simply believing anything said to them.

    A part of me can understand as there is a precedent. The Grimoires were a nasty piece of work who used their thralls in truly reprehensible ways, so it¡¯s not out of the realm of possibility. But don¡¯t they understand how damaging it is for them to spread something like this without proof? Inconsiderate bastards.

    Wait a minute.

    Oh, saints shield me, these idiots are propagating a rumor that I tried to use a thrall on Prince Samuel. Trying to subvert a member of the royal family. That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s high treason, isn¡¯t it?

    Is this Marcus? His response to me getting too close to his plan? Nothing will happen to me because I didn¡¯t do anything wrong, but there goes my attempt to remain unknown. Either way, with this cloud hanging over me, I won¡¯t be able to get within a mile of the prince.

    Then of course, there¡¯s the possibility that the king has me locked away or forcefully made an underling to keep my thrall under control. After all, I¡¯m not the Grimoires with their wealth, status, and history of dirty secrets. I appear to be a lonesome summoner who got her hands on a treasure.

    Or they can ignore the truth entirely, claim I did try to subvert the prince, and order my execution. Executed for high treason.

    Executed¡­high treason¡­royals¡­

    I think I¡¯m going to be sick.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 28

    ¡°Whoa.¡± Alana reaches out for me as I hunch over, legs shaking. ¡°Lou? Lourianne? Come on, you¡¯re alright.¡±

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m fucking alright!¡± I push her away, hands trembling as I run them through my hair. Kierra is right. A cornered animal is the most dangerous. I let my guard down and he went for the jugular. ¡°That gutless, scheming, shitty snake of a man. He thinks he¡¯s going to get away with screwing me over like this? He¡¯s trying to kill me!¡±

    ¡°Kill you? That¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Exactly right!¡± I snap at Alana, who jumps at my raised voice. Seeing that, I force myself to take a breath. It¡¯s not her fault. I wouldn¡¯t even know if she didn¡¯t tell me. Despite the rumor, she didn¡¯t bat an eye. Come on, one two, in and out. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to snap at you. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s okay. You¡¯re stressed.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Stressed. Yeah, that¡¯s one word for it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a stupid rumor, Lou. People will get over it.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re underestimating the power of rumors.¡± And perception. And greed. And fear. The wrong spark can burn down a village. ¡°Agh! There¡¯s nothing I can do about this now.¡± How does one fight a rumor? By spreading rumors of their own.

    Hm. I have some options here. My best would be to insinuate that the prince is besmirching my character after refusing to give him my thrall. Ah, targeting the prince himself might be a bit much.

    Marcus then. Perhaps I¡¯ll have Junior write an angry letter to Marquis Ferraro, asking him what his son is doing causing a panic around thralls. See how they like the dark hands of the old Grimoires throttling them.

    Oooh, if I really want to play dirty, I can have Talia clue me into their actual secrets. The only thing worse than a rumor is a rumor based in truth.

    ¡°You¡¯re wearing a nasty smile.¡±

    ¡°Am I? Geo, you can head back now.¡±

    She places Bell on my shoulders. ¡°Then I will take my leave, my summoner.¡± She inclines her head. [But I shall stay ready for anything.]

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    ¡°Coo!¡± [There is no need for concern with us here, Master Lou.]

    Mm, I know. Otherwise, I really would have fainted from the shock. I have a sudden and powerful urge to praise a certain glossy elemental but I reign it in, not wanting to draw attention from the unenlightened masses.

    Grabbing onto Alana, I loop our arms together and walk us toward our next class. ¡°I think of myself as a pretty carefree person.¡± I don¡¯t ask for much. Beautiful women, mountains of gold, and good times. The simple pleasures in life. ¡°You think so too, right?¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t the demanding type, no.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯m nice and friendly and downright generous. I don¡¯t start problems. Sure, I can be a little petty but I rarely get angry. There¡¯s only three things that really piss me off.¡± I hold up three fingers and lower one. ¡°Messing with me.¡± I lower a second finger. ¡°Messing with the people I care about.¡± I lower the last one. ¡°Messing with summoning.¡±

    My life, my loves, and my art. The three absolutes. Before, it was simply me and summoning. My wedding day showed me the lengths I¡¯m willing to go to for someone I love. I¡¯m not a saint. I ignore terrible things every day and won¡¯t bat an eye at someone¡¯s misfortune. Come after what¡¯s mine, we¡¯re going to have a problem.

    ¡°Marcus¡­he actually had the audacity to break all three of my taboos.¡± High treason¡­anything and everything connected to me is in danger if the king ¡®finds¡¯ me guilty. And he¡¯s insulted my values as a summoner. ¡°He¡¯s not going to get away with it.¡± By that, I mean he¡¯s dead and just doesn¡¯t know. I¡¯ll even save the prince with the main conspirator in the ground. Two dragons, one arrow.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make your situation worse. This will all blow over if you keep your head down.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the concern. Unfortunately for him, I¡¯m not the type of woman who lets go of a grudge.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not alone. Just because he¡¯s a servant, doesn¡¯t mean his family won¡¯t fight for him.¡± She scoffs. ¡°The one thing a noble house can¡¯t abide is someone tarnishing their reputation. If you do anything, no matter how wrong he is, they¡¯ll blame you. Just let it go, the Hall will handle it.¡±

    I grit my teeth. The Hall will handle it? Because they¡¯ve done a spectacular job so far. This is the second time my life¡¯s been threatened by someone here.

    I understand. We¡¯re training to be casters, to go out and combat fearsome manabeasts or criminal casters. I assume they expect us to handle a few petty squabbles amongst ourselves. Doesn¡¯t change the fact that I have very little confidence in the Hall¡¯s ability to do anything.

    ¡°Let them come. I guarantee I won¡¯t be the one to regret it.¡±

    Alana gives me a sideways look. ¡°You¡¯re either brave or incredibly stupid.¡±

    Neither, my friend. I am confident. They¡¯re the idiots, who see a simple cave rather than a dragon¡¯s lair. Treading with impunity without knowing their actions wake the beast slumbering within.

    The last time I was this angry, I ruined an entire family. I¡¯ve got no problem doing it again.

    You have no idea what you¡¯ve brought upon yourself, Marcus Ferraro.

    But you¡¯re going to find out.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 29

    We arrive early to Foundation to find Kierra and her usual group of lightly armored helpers readying today¡¯s torture. I can¡¯t help it. I rush over. ¡°Kii!¡±

    My lovely wife turns and catches me, holding me tightly as I bury my face in her chest. ¡°Aw. Did someone bully you, dedia? Perhaps a certain cornered animal?¡±

    ¡°You were right, I was wrong.¡± The admission is bitter but the pillows enveloping my face soften the blow. ¡°The scheming bastard tried to kill me!¡±

    Her grip tightens to the point of being a little painful and her voice is laced with steel as she hisses, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Succubus! Treason! Execution!¡±

    ¡°Ah. Did he spread a rumor about you trying to subvert the mind of the prince to draw attention away from his own plot?¡±

    I nod vigorously. After a year together, she can understand me even when I start to come apart. Is this the true power of love? Must be.

    ¡°Hm. The boy has raised the stakes then. It seems we are going to have to cut this throat as opposed to cutting his net.¡±

    Exactly. She gets it. Or¡­hm.

    I wonder how much of my murderous reaction is due to her influence?

    ¡­doesn¡¯t matter. The little weasel deserves it.

    ¡°Though Lou, you really are terrible at scheming.¡± I can feel her chuckles as she rests her chin on my head. ¡°You had a complete advantage and are now being beaten back. Quite embarrassing.¡±

    ¡°How was I supposed to know he would do something so outrageous?¡± This goes beyond playing dirty. This is devious. I¡¯d go so far as to call it evil.

    Treason is a dirty stain a family can¡¯t be rid of for generations, if ever. All the people in their lands can come under suspicion of being rebel elements. Marcus could have potentially ruined a lot of people¡¯s lives with his careless and baseless rumor.

    ¡°Perhaps we shall have the pets add politicking to your private lessons, hm? As you seem determined to mix with schemers.¡±

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    They seem determined to mix with me! Oh, why did I ever get involved in this? The next time one of my elementals wanders into an assassination plot, I¡¯m going to walk away. Screw the possible consequences. There are people who get paid to handle this and I bet they don¡¯t have to deal with bitter assholes starting treasonous rumors about them.

    ¡°Ah. The education of this country is severely lacking. To think one of the ruling family would be so foolish.¡±

    ¡°Huh? What are you talking about?¡± I let out a wordless sound of disappointment as she lets me go and turns around. Oh, damn. Is that the prince coming toward us? I¡­yeah, that¡¯s him. Marcus and Browyn are with him as well. And they¡¯re all armed, Prince Samuel scowling mightily, hand on his sword¡¯s grip. ¡°Oh, damn.¡±

    ¡°Keep your head down, Lou,¡± Alana says moving closer to us. Her eyes are narrowed as she stares at the approaching men. ¡°Technically, he¡¯s just another caster at the Grand Hall, not a prince. There is nothing he can do and if he attacks you, he is the one who will be punished.¡±

    ¡°All true but I¡¯m afraid that won¡¯t do.¡± Kierra cracks her knuckles. ¡°If he raises a weapon against my wife in front of me, I will show him how little his title matters.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Alana, I¡¯m with her on this.¡± I shuffle my feet, tapping into my mana and circulating it. Time to see what a few months of Foundation, Mana Work, and Geneva¡¯s lessons has done for me.

    At my feet, Bell stands up and hisses.

    ¡­or I could just the others handle it. Wouldn¡¯t even be fair.

    As the group comes closer, I start to make out more from their expressions. The prince is livid, lips pressed tightly together and steps heavy as he stomps forward. Marcus seems worried of all things. Heh, looks like he isn¡¯t too good at scheming himself. That¡¯s the look of someone caught firmly in the rapids of circumstances they can¡¯t control. On the other side of the prince is Browyn. He looks surer of himself, eyes bouncing between us as he sizes up the possible threats. That¡¯s the problem guy right there.

    ¡°You!¡± The prince comes to a stop barely a meter away. His eyes are firmly on me. If looks could kill, I¡¯d be reduced to ashes. ¡°How dare you!?¡±

    ¡°I suggest you calm down, Samuel.¡± I am so beyond done playing nice with these people. ¡°Before you do something you regret. I have no idea what you¡¯re vaguely accusing me of so perhaps you better use your words rather than that blade.¡±

    ¡°How shameless can you be, denying your crimes even now.¡± His free hand points to Bell. ¡°You and those creatures. You used them to subvert and seduce Cecilia, heinous pervert!¡±

    It¡¯s probably useless to declare my innocence but let¡¯s waste my breath. ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°I should have seen it from the beginning. You showed up at her room unannounced and the next day, she has invited you to lunch. You were defiling her mind right in front of me.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°It is not enough that you practice your twisted lust within your home, making a mockery of the sacred vows of marriage, you dare reach your villainous fingers for a woman far above you!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡ª¡±

    ¡°You will not escape the justice of the crown. If the Hall does nothing, I will drag you before the Head Interrogator and the king myself. You¡ª¡±

    ¡°I SAID I DIDN¡¯T DO IT, DUMBASS!¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 30

    A loud silence lingers after my outburst. Lots of different reactions. Kierra looks amused. Alana and Marcus are watching me with wide eyes. The prince is dumbfounded at being interrupted and insulted at the same time. Browyn is completely unfazed, vigilant for the first signs of violence.

    I take a deep breath. ¡°Now that I have your attention, let me make this clear. I did not, have not, and never intend to use a thrall to seduce a woman. I don¡¯t need to. Unlike you, I managed to charm the woman of my dreams all by myself, thank you.¡±

    Samuel¡¯s face is redder than one of Geneva¡¯s tomatoes. He opens his mouth, probably to curse me to the Abyss plane and back, but I don¡¯t give him the chance.

    ¡°You should be embarrassed, Prince Samuel. I would think someone of your status would have more poise than to accuse someone of such a crime without a shred of proof. I wonder why you are so eager to believe a rumor? Huh? Easier to believe that I used magic than a girl likes me better than you? Or did you hope rescuing her from the ¡®evil woman¡¯ would make you her hero and she¡¯d spread her legs like any good damsel?¡±

    ¡°Shut your mouth!¡± he roars, pulling his sword free.

    ¡°My prince!¡± Marcus grabs his arm but Samuel shakes him off. ¡°You can¡¯t do this! If you attack her, the Hall will have no choice but to ban you from their grounds! You¡¯ll be forced back to the capital.¡±

    Oh, I see why he is so nervous. If Samuel is forced back, it¡¯ll be a lot harder to assassinate him. In that case, the only thing to do is provoke him some more.

    ¡°You really are a dumbass. Once you¡¯re gone, I¡¯ll be sure to look after Cecilia. Thanks to you, her reputation has been well and truly destroyed. It¡¯d be a shame for her to remain alone for the years she¡¯ll be studying here.¡±

    ¡°If you dare lay a hand on her¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯ll be a lot more than a hand.¡±

    His eyes glow as he channels mana. ¡°I am going to bury you.¡±

    From the corner of my eye, I see Kierra tense. No, no. Can¡¯t have the big, scary elf scare him away. Bell, talk to her. Tell her what¡¯s going on.

    Kierra¡¯s brow furrows and then she smiles. ¡°Lou~¡± she breathes out sexily, trailing a fingertip down my cheek. ¡°I¡¯ll leave this little boy to you. After all, if he had any idea how to use his sword, he wouldn¡¯t be following that girl around like a lost puppy.¡±

    Samuel points his sword toward me, gold engravings appearing along the side. Because of course no one ever fights fair and always has a damn artifact up their sleeves! Is there even any point in my learning how to fight with my own abilities? Damn cheaters!

    ¡°Die!¡±

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    ¡°THAT¡¯S ENOUGH!¡±

    Just as I¡¯m readying myself to leap out of the way of whatever attack he¡¯s so confident in, a blast of wind makes me shut my eyes. I barely manage to crack one open. My lips turn down as three figures, and I shudder to say it, majestically drift down from above. The two on the ends are strangers, an auburn-haired woman in a crimson robe on the left, a stout man with a bare chest covered in interlocking tattoos on the right. The one in the middle, I know.

    Aurelius.

    His features are a stern mask but I can feel the disdain in his eyes as he looks at me. We wage a silent war with our gazes. I don¡¯t hold back an ounce of hate. Obnoxious man in his obnoxious silver robe, bare feet visible as the ends of it flutter. I wish I could somehow drop him into a pit of mud, ruin that pristine image and untouchable aura.

    They land between us. ¡°Prince Samuel,¡± the baldie says in what I¡¯m guessing is his best stern voice. ¡°This is an atrocious display. No matter what your personal grievances, this is the Grand Hall. You will respect our rules and the authority of the Grandmaster or you will be dismissed, no matter your family.¡±

    ¡°You cannot expect me to pardon this woman¡¯s crimes!¡±

    ¡°If she is guilty of any crime, it is for the Hall to determine and mete out punishment. Leave now or you will also be judged.¡±

    For a moment, I think Samuel is going to ignore him and continue his assault. But facing the three casters, he loses his nerve, sheathing his sword. ¡°We¡¯re leaving!¡± he shouts dramatically, turning sharply and stomping away.

    The others follow, Marcus letting out a sigh of relief as they escape. Tension leaks from the situation but I don¡¯t relax. No way Aurelius is here to rescue me.

    They turn and I straighten under his glare. ¡°Aurelius, long time no see.¡±

    ¡°Miss Tome. These are my colleagues. Alyssa Filagree, a teacher for Advanced Fire Casting and Magic Dueling, and Sir Bruce Griffin, one of the Advanced Foundation instructors.¡±

    ¡°A pleasure to meet you.¡± I scowl when they don¡¯t return my greetings. ¡°Given the grim faces, I take it this isn¡¯t a social call?¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome, an accusation has been made against you. You¡¯ll have to accompany me for questioning.¡±

    I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. ¡°How long did it take you to think of a way to take advantage of this mess?¡±

    ¡°I am an instructor of the Grand Hall. This is merely a part of my responsibilities, it has nothing to do with a personal motive.¡±

    Oh, sure it doesn¡¯t. Not personal at all. I wonder why you of all people are here to grab me when there must be a dozen teachers that could have handled this. Cheh.

    ¡°Kierra. I also need you to come with us.¡±

    ¡°Hoh? Have I also been accused of something?¡± She sounds amused more than anything. Ah, I see why there are three teachers here. They¡¯re the muscle to drag her along if she doesn¡¯t want to go, huh? Or perhaps if we both resist. Physical and fire affinities to counter us.

    They are severely underestimating her.

    ¡°No, you are asked to attend as a witness. All will be explained.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Then that¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°I will call someone to take over your class.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. My helpers are quite competent and no student of mine would dare to slack on their exercises. Lou.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I¡¯m not going to fight instructors. I hold my hands out for Bell and she promptly jumps into them. ¡°Alana, I¡¯ll see you later.¡±

    She grunts. ¡°Stop getting into so much trouble.¡± My friend eyes the teachers for a moment before concluding there is nothing she can do and walks off, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

    ¡°Then¡­shall we get going? I will need you to come closer.¡±

    We follow the baldie¡¯s instruction and come closer. Close enough that I can smell his perfume, and I mean perfume, not to mention the sweat from Sir No-Neck and something slightly acrid from Lady, guessing she¡¯s a noblewoman, Filagree.

    A strong wind lifts us up, Kierra grabbing hold of me when I stumble. I swear I catch a slight twitch of Aurelius¡¯ lips at the gesture but he says nothing as we fly off toward¡­my judgment.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 31

    Being ¡°escorted¡± so forcefully, I can¡¯t help but imagine the worse. They¡¯ll throw me into some saints forsaken cell, dark and dank and smelling of death or rat feces, while I await my judgement. Hopefully, not at the hands of Aurelius. If so, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be found guilty no matter what.

    Kierra¡¯s grip on my arm tightens as we move toward the ground. Huh, we¡¯re headed for the Center Hall, where all the learning and a good deal of the private research is done. Jeez, it¡¯s still enormous with an aerial view. The building is more suited to be a castle, a monument of gleaming white stone with several smaller buildings surrounding it. From what I¡¯ve gleamed during conversations with Mano, those satellite buildings host the laboratories of sanctioned researchers and obtaining the use of one is the height of status at the Hall.

    At least this means no cell. Or maybe? As an initiate, I¡¯ve only been on the bottom floor of the main building. Who knows what they¡¯re hiding?

    Aurelius lowers us to the ground before canceling his spell. The showy landing draws quite a few stares and eyes linger with curiosity seeing four teachers escorting a single student. We¡¯re silent as we enter the building, my usual problem avoiding the sea of bodies avoided as they part before us. Aurelius is in the lead as we walk down the long hallway dotted with classrooms to a staircase at the end. On to the second floor.

    It¡¯s disappointingly similar to the first but I don¡¯t get a chance to look closely. We keep ascending. Past the third and the fourth floor. At the fifth floor is a door. Dark wood with an inlay of the symbol for magic; the circle of the four main elements with the star of the five greater elements on top. Including the affinity stones that represents each one. Small ones but still, that is an insane amount of wealth on a single door.

    Aurelius presses his palm in the center of the symbol. I gasp as what must be thousands of runes light up as he pours mana into them, concentric circles that spread out toward the very edges of the door. Kierra leans forward with interest.

    ¡°One of the highest-grade verification enchantments in the Hall,¡± Aurelius brags when he sees her attention. ¡°It is quite a masterful work. The first layer of the spell records a visitor¡¯s unique mana signature. The second layer sends this signature to the third layer which is a record of the mana signatures for every current instructor of the Hall.

    ¡°What¡¯s truly interesting is that the third layer is double reactive. Should the signature submitted match one encoded, it opens the door but if it doesn¡¯t, it activates the fourth layer.¡±

    ¡°And what does the fourth layer do?¡±

    He looks at me with a smug satisfaction. Huh? Why? This isn¡¯t your accomplishment, you flighty bastard. Stupid baldie.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say it would be unpleasant for any intruder.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [It is quite embarrassing he is so proud of, as he called it, a double reactive enchantment. Your people have no idea of the true versatility of static spells.]

    Static spells? Is that what you call them?

    [Spells that happen independent of a caster. There is a theory that says that the flow of mana in a world is one enormous static spell which governs the laws of that world. I have seen true masters able to manipulate ambient mana. It would explain why places made of the same basic components can be so different. As such, the realm of enchantments as termed by you humans, is seen as the ¡®discipline of the gods¡¯.]

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    Wow. That is an outrageous but incredible theory. What insane mind came up with that?

    [It was a collaborative project between five of the more intellectual dons. Mistress Geneva was one.]

    Ah.

    ¡°Are you not going?¡±

    I snap out of my mental conversation to see Kierra staring at me curiously. The door has opened, revealing a short hall with three doors, two on either side and one at the end. Compared to the opulence of the door, the thick gray carpet and bare walls seems out of place but there is a tension in the air.

    The three teachers are watching me with reserved expressions. ¡°Ah, sorry. Daydreaming,¡± I say a little sheepishly as I step into the hallway, Kierra right behind me.

    Aurelius scoffs softly before leading us to the door at the end. He raises his hand and knocks sharply. ¡°Your Eminence, I have returned with Lourianne Tome and Kierra D¡¯Atainna.¡±

    ¡°Enter.¡±

    Aurelius opens the door and we all troop inside. The surroundings are again rather unremarkable, a simple study complete with a large desk, several bookcases, and an impressive map of the continent dominating one wall.

    The person behind the desk, however, astounds me. More than that. I stop breathing and squeeze Bell tightly enough that a less sturdy creature might burst from the pressure.

    Sitting there is an elderly man. His white hair shows his age but is both full and neatly groomed, matching a cleanly trimmed mustache. Heavily wrinkled tanned skin is a testament to someone who¡¯s lived an active life, reflected by a body that remains in shape. Around his neck hangs an amulet with a wind affinity stone the size of an apple, glowing with power.

    That ridiculous trinket. The highest floor of the Casting Hall. His age. Aurelius¡¯ deference to him.

    This can only be one person, right? The Grandmaster of the Hall, the strongest master caster in the Harvest Kingdom, the praised explorer himself who was said to fight off a dragon, Dunwayne!

    I may not know every member of the royal family but everyone knows the strongest man in the Harvest Kingdom. I grew up on stories about him.

    A young boy named Dunn grew up in the slums of the capital, fighting for survival amongst thieves and murderers. It would have been easy to fall in with their lot and use his talents for evil but he had the soul of a knight, they say. Dirty and half-starved, does he steal from those just as unfortunate to get ahead? No! He becomes a small-time hero.

    He fought off the would-be thieves from harassing innocent people and slew monsters too weak for the capital¡¯s guards to bother with but dangerous to the weakest members of society. Often times, not successfully, as he had no casting knowledge besides what someone can pick up from tavern conversation.

    But his heart caught the attention of a retired knight. He took the young Dunn from the slums and became his mentor. Once his incredible talent was revealed, he sent the boy on to the Grand Hall, where he made a name for himself amongst the hunters of Quest.

    That kind-hearted knight¡¯s charity saved the kingdom as years later, an evil dragon arrived to subjugate the Harvest family. An evil dragon Dunn slew when the Royal Harvest Knights failed, saving thousands of lives.

    The king of the time gave him the name Dunwayne kor Rexslaw, the slayer of the evil dragon Tivorex. The only commoner in history to receive the name ¡°kor¡±, a distinction given to those who¡¯ve completed the highest service to the kingdom and is non-hereditary. Anyone who has it has earned it.

    They threw land and gold at him but does he join the fetid ranks of nobility? No! He donates the lot of it to the Dunn Society, a group that shelters and raises young orphans like he once was. Then he goes on a journey to get stronger.

    No one knows the details about that part of his life as he traveled alone. Some say he went to the Dragon Isles to fight more draconids, incensed by his near loss to Tivorex. Some say he became an explorer, reaching new lands too dangerous to put on any map lest some fool get themselves killed trying to imitate him. What is undisputed is that he came back stronger, an unstoppable force of spellcasting might. Not even the king would dare to speak a word to him lightly.

    I am standing in front of a living legend. Suspected of treason.

    If I didn¡¯t hate Samuel before, I surely hate him now.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 32

    As we come to a stop before his desk, Dunwayne puts down an elegant metal quill. ¡°Lady Tome, Miss Kierra. Thank you for coming. I apologize for taking up your time so suddenly.¡±

    The Harvest Hero just apologized to me. Is this a dream?

    ¡°Please, have a seat. No need to be uncomfortable for this small talk.¡± He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. Kierra has to pull me along and seat me in one. How is she unfazed? This is¡­oh, right. Elf. Not to mention she could probably take him on. Maybe. Bell?

    [Their coefficients are close but the elf¡¯s is higher. I can¡¯t say who has more experience but she has an advantage wielding a pure affinity.]

    I am once again reminded how amazing my wife is. She has every right to relax into her seat, one leg crossing over the other. ¡°Hello, Dunn,¡± she says, casually addressing the most powerful man in the nation. ¡°You¡¯re right. It was a little boorish fetching us in such a way but if it¡¯s you, I¡¯m willing to allow you have your reasons.¡±

    He chuckles, the kind of full-chested laugh all gramps and grannies seem to have. As if they know a secret about life that makes it funnier than the younger generation can understand. ¡°A small bit of unpleasantness. I know you¡¯re familiar with Aurelius but has he introduced you to the others?¡±

    ¡°Briefly.¡±

    ¡°You two, come forward. As colleagues, you should make an effort to get to know one another.¡±

    ¡°We may not be colleagues for long,¡± the woman huffs, but she moves closer.

    Dunwayne holds out a hand toward her. ¡°This is Ally, one of our advanced fire instructors who specializes in anti-caster tactics. Also, quite an accomplished hunter. She is the most successful in preparing those who want to make their mark in the guilds.¡± His eyes moved to me. ¡°I think it quite likely you would attend her lessons, Lady Tome.¡±

    I freeze as he addresses me, mind stuttering to a stop as I try to form a response.

    Alyssa snorts. ¡°As if. The girl is scared stiff by the mere presence of the ¡®great hero¡¯. Hardly one to be forged by fire.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t underestimate my wife,¡± Kierra says bemusedly. ¡°There is more to her than what she seems.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes move to Bell before she turns her head. The action stirs my alarm with the whole situation, pushing past my moment of awe to bring me back to my senses.

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    Remember, this is not a good moment. I need to stay focused.

    I clear my throat, grabbing Lady Filagree¡¯s attention. ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive me if I was a little shocked. I didn¡¯t wake up this morning expecting to meet the Grandmaster of the Hall. It¡¯s not to be mistaken for cowardice.¡±

    I hold her stare until she turns away with a huff. ¡°We¡¯ll see. They always sing a different tune when they¡¯re put to the test.¡±

    The towering pile of muscles takes the ensuing pause in conversation to move toward Kierra. He executes a surprisingly elegant bow. ¡°I was there when you were evaluated as an instructor. I am looking forward to working with you in the future, Miss D¡¯Atainna.¡±

    ¡°Sir Bruce, it was? Indeed. Perhaps we can also compare spells.¡±

    He looks up, brows slightly furrowed. ¡°I was given to believe that you wielded a pure affinity.¡±

    ¡°Mm. However, that doesn¡¯t come with all knowledge of said affinity. More importantly, I am interested in the human perspective when it comes to buffing and healing.¡±

    ¡°In that case, I would be honored.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Dunwayne says with plenty of cheer. ¡°It¡¯s important to remember that we are all allies here, in search of bettering ourselves through spellcraft. That is first. Despite the rules we must follow and obligations we must hold ourselves to.¡±

    That sounds¡­a little ominous. I don¡¯t have much of a chance to worry before there is a knock on the door. He calls for whoever it is to enter and I am given a welcome sight as Miss Talia steps in. She ignores everyone in the room, stopping before the grandmaster¡¯s desk and bowing her head. ¡°Your Eminence. How may I be of service?¡±

    ¡°Thank you for coming so quickly on such short notice. Lady Tome, Miss Kierra, this Umphrieltalia, the dorm mother of the Gold Dorm. I believe you have made her acquaintance briefly?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Hm. From the way she is refusing to so much as look at me, it seems our friendship isn¡¯t common knowledge. Alright. I¡¯ll bet she has good reasons for that so I¡¯ll play along. ¡°She officiated my duel with Peter Pottoculli.¡±

    ¡°What a duel it was. A little lackluster in skill but a very potent show.¡± Ugh. Was that approval or disappointment? Not that I care. Not really. Only a little. Who wouldn¡¯t want to be praised by their childhood hero?

    ¡°Talia possesses a highly developed mental affinity and has taken the standard oaths of an interrogator. As such, she has the authority to handle all manner of legal proceedings.¡±

    Ah, dammit. Here it comes.

    Dunwayne chuckles. ¡°At least allow me to explain the situation before you get too nervous, Lady Tome. An accusation has been made against you, claiming the illegal use of the mental affinity. As you should well know, any use of the mental affinity outside of the interrogators is prohibited by the crown and would also violate the Hall¡¯s laws of assault against fellow casters. We are obligated to investigate any such claim.¡±

    ¡°Even if it¡¯s complete garbage?¡± I spit out, unable to hold back my scorn.

    The grandmaster¡¯s eyes are surprising kind. A warm green like the rolling fields that cover most of the kingdom. ¡°Even so. There is no need to worry. Talia will reveal the truth. Should you be innocent, I will send you away with an apology and the accuser will be brought under the Hall¡¯s scrutiny. We don¡¯t tolerate treachery either.¡±

    ¡°Great.¡± Hah! I can deliver my first strike against those idiots by simply telling the truth. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 33

    ¡°Your excitement relieves me.¡± Dunwayne waves to Miss Talia and she moves over to me. Her eyes open, revealing the strange, inverted colors that still send a chill down my spine. She holds out a hand and I grab it.

    ¡°This is a simple process. I will ask a series of questions. You will answer them to the best of your ability and I will validate the answers. My magic is painless as long as you do not actively think of resisting me. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Perfectly.¡± Bell, you know the drill. No deeper than what she is looking for.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Understood, Master Lou.]

    ¡°¡­then let¡¯s begin. Lourianne Tome, are you acquainted with Cecilia Rosefield?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°When did you meet?¡±

    ¡°About a week ago. My lunch was rather rudely interrupted by the prince. She was with him. Looking rather amused with the situation.¡±

    ¡°Did you go to the dorms to visit Lady Rosefield?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Why did you do so?¡±

    ¡°I was hoping she could help me get on the prince¡¯s good side. It is not exactly good on my nerves having a member of the royal family so¡­dissatisfied with my existence.¡±

    ¡°Were you accompanied by your thrall, Geo?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Were you accompanied by your incompetent imp, Bell?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Bell goes where I go usually.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± I give her an affectionate rub of the horns.

    ¡°Did you in any way try to subvert Lady Rosefield¡¯s mind or that of her handmaiden with the mental affinity?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± My answer is quick and firm, with no room for interpretation or doubt. Because there is none. I¡¯m offended I have to answer the question but better to have these people on my side to defend my reputation. I might not have much of a voice compared to a prince but the Grandmaster of the Hall sure as saints does.

    [Lou.] Talia¡¯s voice is serene as it echoes in my mind. [I can feel the imp controlling my magic. Refusing to let it expand.]

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    Is she stopping you from getting what you need to ascertain my innocence?

    [¡­no. I know you are telling the truth.]

    Then that¡¯s all that matters, isn¡¯t it?

    [If you are hiding a secret that involves Cecilia Rosefield, I would prefer you tell me. I wish to be your ally and since you have not abused the mental affinity, I am free to help you.]

    Thank you. Really. But I mean it when I say I have no plans for Cecilia. I only wanted her to get me close to the prince so I could figure out the plot to assassinate him. Nothing else. I¡¯ve done nothing to her and don¡¯t want to do anything with her. Trust me?

    [Very well.] Miss Talia releases my hand. ¡°I have verified her answers as true. Lourianne Tome did not use her summoned elementals to subvert the will of Lady Rosefield.¡±

    ¡°What a waste of time,¡± Lady Filagree mutters. Sir No-Neck agrees with a nod of his head.

    ¡°Not a waste. We must take all accusations like these quite seriously,¡± Dunwayne responds. ¡°As promised, Lady Tome, you are free to go with my apology for taking up your time. Rest assured we will investigate the matter of your accusation.¡±

    ¡°Great!¡± I jump to my feet with a grin. Hah, to think I was worried. Dunwayne really is as great as the stories. Didn¡¯t listen to stupid rumors and got right to solving the matter. I am full of admiration for you right now.

    ¡°One moment please, Your Eminence.¡± Aurelius makes himself known by moving toward the center of the room. He gives me a brief look before turning to his boss. ¡°While we are all gathered, I would request that Umphrieltalia investigate the possibility of Lady Tome using the mental affinities of her elementals on¡­Miss Kierra.¡±

    I suck in a sharp breath. ¡°You rat bastard,¡± I hiss before I have the chance to think about what I¡¯m saying and who I¡¯m saying it around.

    Thankfully, the attention of the room doesn¡¯t stay on me as Kierra gets to her feet. She looks annoyed. ¡°You dare to suggest that I wouldn¡¯t notice an inferari dipping her fingers into my skull? You insult me.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me but those who abuse the mental affinity are insidious. Their ways can get past the sturdiest body and strongest spell. If it were a caster of sufficient ability and skill, not even you would be able to notice.¡±

    ¡°This is crap,¡± I practically growl. ¡°What is this? You can¡¯t throw around stuff like that with no proof just because you¡¯ve got a hard-on for my wife!¡±

    This is a teacher at the Grand Hall, for saints¡¯ sake! Him whispering rumors about me is just as bad as the prince doing it! ¡°Maybe explore the idea that your rotten personality that can come up with something like this is why she chooses me over you, not me mind-raping her, you sick bastard!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m with the kid on this,¡± Lady Filagree says, crossing her arms. ¡°Someone in your position should know better than to say something like that. Unless you have the proof?¡±

    He waves toward us, as if me standing beside Kierra is proof enough. ¡°If the caster was of sufficient skill, there¡¯d be no evidence besides that which can only be detected by someone with Umphrieltalia¡¯s skills. Something that can be figured out right away with Lady Tome¡¯s consent. I find it interesting that she is being more vocal about this topic when she so readily submitted to the previous interrogation.¡±

    That¡¯s because you are accusing me of doing something despicable to the woman I love so you can get into her pants! ¡°Fine!¡± I drop back down into the seat, grabbing Miss Talia¡¯s hand. ¡°Ask away. Really get in there.¡± Bell, only block her from my rebirth, my time on the elven continent, and Kierra¡¯s fetish. She can see anything else. In fact, I insist she see it. See if they doubt me then.

    [As you wish.]

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 34

    Miss Talia looks over her shoulder to Dunwayne. He gives her a subtle nod and she turns back. ¡°The same as before, try to answer my questions completely. You are married to Kierra Atainna, are you not?¡±

    ¡°Now and forever.¡± I turn to give her a smile. She purses her lips in a false kiss before grinning back.

    ¡°Where did you meet?¡±

    ¡°We met in the Enchanted Forest. Beneath a really big tree. While a bunch of wolves were trying to eat me.¡±

    ¡°¡­when did you fall in love?¡±

    Hoh. That sounds like a personal question, Miss Interrogator. Not that I mind. You can have all the details you want. ¡°That¡¯s a hard question. I was immediately infatuated. When did I know I wanted to sleep with her? Almost immediately. When I knew I wanted to marry her? I think I had my first inkling when I was tackled to the ground for the hundredth time.¡±

    Thinking back, our beginning is strange. Kierra is a sweetheart, underneath layers of blood, brazen disregard of morality, and savagery, but who falls for someone shoving their face in the dirt every day? Even if it was supposed to be for my own good.

    Miss Talia, I know what it looks like, but I don¡¯t have those kinds of interests. Please don¡¯t get the wrong idea.

    ¡°Definitely knew after our first night together. Whew.¡± Kierra chuckles while Aurelius¡¯ lips twitch. Holding back a frown there, baldie?

    ¡°Have you ever used the mental affinity to influence the actions or thoughts of Kierra?¡±

    ¡°Never. I hadn¡¯t even contracted an elemental when we met. She fell in love with me and everything since has been completely of her own will.¡±

    There is a long pause as Talia scans my thoughts. As Bell is giving her the full scope of our relationship, there is a lot to go through and I¡¯m sure she sees exactly how willing Kierra is in all of it.

    Her face shows the faintest blush, the tiniest hint of pink on her pale cheeks. She clears her throat as she releases my hand. ¡°She is telling the truth.¡±

    ¡°Shall we be thorough?¡± Kierra stands and extends her hand toward Miss Talia. ¡°To forestall whatever ridiculous excuse he can come up with to explain how she passed your little test. Come on.¡±

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    Miss Talia again looks to the grandmaster. This time, he wears a small smile as he nods. Miss Talia, reluctantly, grabs my wife¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Don¡¯t hold back. Ask whatever.¡±

    ¡°¡­you are married to Lourianne Tome, are you not?¡±

    ¡°Happily.¡±

    ¡°Where did you meet?¡±

    ¡°In the Enchanted Forest, the common name for the strip of land that connects our homes. I found a helpless little creature cowering from the most useless predators in the forest.¡± She chuckles as I flush in embarrassment. ¡°I couldn¡¯t just let her be eaten.¡±

    ¡°When did you fall in love?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°Hm~ Shall I answer it the way my darling wife did? I was fascinated immediately. As for when I wanted to sleep with her, it would be a certain morning after we¡¯d started our lives together, watching her try not to wake me as she alternated bemoaning being stranded in a strange place and fighting her desire to fondle the ¡®sleeping¡¯ woman next to her. Her fingers twitching over me with such an unsightly gleam in her eyes.¡±

    She chuckles while my flush deepens. The room is giving me a very uncomfortable look, especially Lady Filagree. Why do you look disgusted? I want to see you calmly keep your hands to yourself lying next to her!

    ¡°When I knew I wanted to marry her? Mm. That would be after a very special night. You know the one.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know it.¡± The one where I brought back her ¡®tickets¡¯ to return home.

    ¡°Have you ever felt that your actions were not under your own control?¡±

    ¡°Several times.¡± The room seems to take a collective breath at her answer. Kierra laughs at them. ¡°Oh, relax. I must answer the interrogator truthfully. There have been plenty of times when I¡¯ve felt like I didn¡¯t have control over myself. Have you ever heard the saying ¡®fucked senseless¡¯? It applies here.¡± She licks her lips. ¡°And it had nothing to do with anyone messing with my thoughts.¡±

    Miss Talia¡¯s faint blush advances to a full one as her eyes steadily grow wider. Jeez, what is that elf thinking about?

    ¡°Coo!¡± [The elf is truly deviant. Haha, she is showing the mind reader what future she is seeking!]

    What? Dammit, I want to see too.

    Miss Talia suddenly drops Kierra¡¯s hand, averting her eyes and taking several steps backward. Her blush hasn¡¯t abated in the slightest. ¡°She is¡­not under any influences. She doesn¡¯t need them.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Now, if we are done with this farce, I have a class to get back to.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Dunwayne stands. ¡°Thank you for your time and I apologize for the inconvenience.¡±

    ¡°No worry.¡± She turns to Aurelius and unleashes her full-on glare. The one reserved for something she is about to kill. The hostility in it makes the bald caster take an instinctive step back. ¡°We all have to deal with the pests that worm their way into our lives. Come on, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Right behind you,¡± I say while jumping to my feet, grinning broadly. Aurelius¡¯ attempt to hide his crestfallen expression at her dismissal of him is seared into my brain perfectly. It started off terribly but this is turning out to be a grand day.

    Placing Bell on my shoulders, I reach out to grab my wife¡¯s hand as we leave the room.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 35

    The interrogation leaves me in a bad mood that stretches into the following day. I¡¯ve reached the point where I¡¯m ready to leave the prince to the wolves and wash my hands of the affair, damn the consequences.

    ¡°Perhaps you should take the day off, my summoner.¡±

    Lying in a warm bed with the sun barely over the horizon, I look at the succubus standing at the side of the bed. Kierra is still fighting sleep, mumbling in her dreams with her head on my shoulder.

    ¡°It would give you some time to unwind while allowing time for the grandmaster to circulate news of your innocence and investigate your accuser.¡±

    Hard to argue with her when I rather not face the day anyway. ¡°Mmkay,¡± I mumble, wrapping myself in my blankets tighter.

    ¡°Excellent. Enjoy your rest.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    There¡¯s a perverse joy watching the day go on, knowing there¡¯s somewhere I should be. Makes the bed extra comfortable or maybe the extra time gives me the chance to appreciate it.

    ¡°Hm?¡± Kierra eventually raises her head from my shoulder, smiling softly as she looks down at me. ¡°What a wonderful surprise but don¡¯t you have somewhere to be, dedia?¡±

    ¡°Day off,¡± I mumble, reaching up to pull her into a sleepy kiss. She indulges me but pulls away far too quickly.

    ¡°How brave of you, freely declaring to avoid my lessons.¡±

    I freeze, a quick burst of adrenaline banishing the webs of drowsiness as my eyes widen. ¡°Um, no, you see¡ª¡±

    I relax at the sound of her chuckles. ¡°I am only jesting. It¡¯s fine.¡± She gives me a quick peck on the cheek before rolling out of bed. Evil woman, scaring me like that. If only I could properly get angry with her about anything. My ire is already starting to slip as my eyes devour her naked form, strutting across the room to push aside the curtains without a care in the world.

    ¡°You have earned a day off, hm? Perhaps use the extra time to have the pet give you those scheming lessons you so desperately need.¡±

    My rising libido is cooled by the reminder of the mess Marcus dumped me in and I retreat into my covers with a pout. Kierra chuckles on her way to the bathroom.

    I could easily join her but the bed is making good arguments for me to stay put. To compromise, I change my ears to that of the wolf¡¯s and listen as Kierra steps beneath a warm spray of water. I can hear her sigh as she relaxes, her humming as she lathers herself up, her little moans as she gives herself a little extra attention¡­

    Just as I¡¯m about to get up and join her, she rinses and cuts the water off. Ah ah, missed opportunities. I stare in wistful regret as she re-enters and quickly dresses.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, Lou,¡± she calls from the doorway. ¡°Try not to laze about in bed all day, hm?¡±

    Then she¡¯s gone and the room is silent. Strangely silent. Huh, now that I think about it, have I ever been in our room alone? I leave before her and she usually gets home first.

    ¡°Sap,¡± I mumble as the thought brings on a strange melancholy. I shrug off the mood before it can take root and push off the covers, deciding to take my wife¡¯s advice and do something. What, I have no clue, but if all else fails, there¡¯s always early lessons with Geneva.

    After a quick wash, I¡¯m out exploring the house. My stomach leads me into the kitchen where I find both my elementals. Geneva has her back to me, dressed in a frilly white apron, messing with something on the stove.

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    Bell spots me right away, leaping from her place on the counter to dash over. I easily scoop her into my arms. ¡°Morning, Bell~ What are we going to do today?¡±

    ¡°Start with breakfast,¡± Geneva answers. ¡°I¡¯ll be done in a moment so take a seat.¡±

    ¡°Alright, thanks.¡±

    Geneva is true to her word. Just as I take a chair at our rarely used dining table and settle Bell in my lap, she appears over my shoulder and lays down a plate, quickly followed by a glass of something. I raise it and take a sip, brows going up. ¡°A little early to be drinking, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Fruit wine hardly counts, Lou.¡±

    She takes the seat next to me, her tail idly playing with Bell as she watches me eat. ¡°You want some?¡± I ask, feeling a little guilty with her eyes on me as I tuck into the food.

    ¡°I would gladly partake of you, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Not what I was offering.¡± Guilt gone. ¡°Is there something I can do around here so I don¡¯t end up sleeping the day away?¡± Kind of hoping she says no.

    ¡°Not much.¡± Haha! ¡°Though, I suppose you can sit in as I instruct the members of the house. You should grace your servants with a word every now and again.¡±

    ¡°Ah, right.¡± My collection of wayward bandits. I rarely see them except for Earl, my young steward who seems right at home in his role. Nomad every now and again the few times I go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night. ¡°Sounds interesting enough. Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    I finish my breakfast and then we¡¯re off to find the servants. Unsurprisingly, the first is Earl. He¡¯s in the middle of straightening the sheets in one of the spare rooms when he hears us in the doorway. His eyes move to Geneva and he straightens up, hands crossing behind his back as his chest puffs out. ¡°Good morning!¡±

    I blink. What is this, the royal army?

    Geneva doesn¡¯t return the greeting. She steps over and circles him, eyes flicking over his uniform. He stands as still as a tree, eyes forward, without so much as flinching. I can almost see the tension wrapped around him.

    Her inspection moves to the room. She checks the furnishings and pushes her hand down on the bed. Then she returns to standing in front of Earl. ¡°Good morning, steward. Full points for your uniform and work but you lose points on your greeting. While I am due respect as your superior, it is rather rude to ignore one of the masters of the house.¡±

    Earl flinches. He opens his mouth but catches himself before making the same mistake. His eyes flick to me. ¡°I endeavor to do better!¡±

    ¡°Er, yeah.¡± Ugh. He is far too intense for this hour and his eyes have a worrying gleam. Very worrying. Hm. Now that I think about it, I never told her not to use her abilities in training the bandits.

    What was it she said? Given a year, she could make a man think he¡¯s a dog and no one would find a trace of her influence.

    She¡¯s had half a year with them without any supervision. There is no telling what knots she¡¯s tied these people in. Oh boy. As her summoner, I should take some responsibility for this but I don¡¯t want to be so much as a spear¡¯s length to it. One of those things where it¡¯s better not to know. We¡¯ll say it¡¯s because of extreme gratitude and my personal charisma, yeah.

    ¡°Excellent. Come, the duties can wait. It is time for lessons.¡±

    I follow behind them as she leads Earl to another spare room. From the looks of it, it might have been meant for a study but neither Kierra nor myself are here enough for such a thing. Maybe next year when I¡¯ve got the leeway to begin my summoning research.

    It has a long table with four simple chairs on one side. There is a small stack of paper next to a box of smudge sticks. I blink in mute astonishment as Earl grabs a few sheets, a stick, and sits down with his back straight, paying Geneva rapt attention.

    ¡­does she enjoy being a teacher or something?

    My surprise continues to grow as the lesson begin. The topic for the day? Economics. I only know the word because Geneva uses it. Something to do with money. As soon as I clear that up, I think I¡¯m going to be able follow the lesson. Has to be something about arranging supplies for the house, nothing big.

    To an extent, it is. It includes a bit on how to spot a good deal and avoiding being scammed by subtly scoping out several shops before making a purchase. However, the simple lesson quickly becomes more complicated as she gets into market trends, recognizing quality of material, how supply, travel routes, and demand affect price.

    Rather than a steward, it looks like she¡¯s training him to be an ace merchant. She¡¯s even teaching him how to feel the difference between the different varieties of silk, with examples. Where did she get those? And does he really need to know all this? I don¡¯t know this. Not to mention this is a little much for a fourteen-year-old boy.

    [My summoner, such knowledge is the very basics if he intends to run errands for you and other nobles. The steward reflects the house, sometimes even more than its owner. There is no need to worry about him keeping up with my teaching. I will ensure he commits every detail.]

    That¡¯s ominous. Oh, well. I suppose I prefer her using her abilities to make him a better student than engendering a fanatic loyalty.

    After an hour and a half, the lesson wraps up. Earl gives us both an enthusiastic goodbye before returning to his duties and we are back to searching the house for Geneva¡¯s next victim, er, I mean student. Yeah.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 36

    ¡°Gajin?¡± I guess as we go out the front door.

    ¡°He can wait. Master is seeing to his education. He is already very grateful to you for the opportunity to do what he loves and I don¡¯t expect the gardener to be entertaining. Nomad won¡¯t be awake until the afternoon either.¡±

    ¡°So¡­Anna.¡± The little girl well on her way to becoming a lunatic. ¡°How is she?¡±

    ¡°Very well. She shows remarkable potential in the arts of tracking and hunting. A natural inclination as well. I purchased a clutch of rabbits and set them loose in the garden. She amuses herself by chasing them about.¡±

    ¡­I have so many questions.

    ¡°Children should be active.¡±

    And she¡¯s just going to gloss right over them.

    Now that she¡¯s mentioned the rabbits, I guess that¡¯s the reason for the fence around the vegetables. Anna is on the outside of it, prowling around while hunched as she examines the ground.

    She looks a lot better. With a haircut, a uniform, and a clean face, there is no trace of the bloodthirsty bandit from before.

    ¡°Anna.¡±

    Big, green eyes snap up to us. Like her brother, she comes to attention, spine straight with her arms crossed over her lower back.

    Geneva stretches out a palm. ¡°Hand.¡±

    My jaw drops as she obediently puts a hand in her palm.

    ¡°Shake. Good. Sit. Lie Down. Stand. Good girl.¡±

    It continues dropping as Anna continues to execute the demands like a, oh saints there¡¯s no way around it, like a well-trained dog. I can¡¯t let this one go, can I? I¡¯ve got to say something. But a kind of horrified fascination keeps me from intervening.

    Anna¡¯s lesson doesn¡¯t last nearly as long. After a few more orders, Geneva pulls out a small piece of honey-colored something and hands it to the girl. Anna immediately pops it into her mouth. Her smile and wide-eyed enjoyment heals me. Heh, who knew she was so cute under all that growling and stabbing?

    This is still highly questionable.

    Once she¡¯s finished her treat, she waits at attention until Geneva dismisses her. My succubus turns to me with a grin. ¡°Before you can say anything, Lou, this is perfectly fine. I have no idea what has happened to that girl but her mind is very¡­simple. I¡¯m afraid standard teaching wouldn¡¯t be at all effective and I dislike using my abilities on the young. There¡¯s a chance it can damage underdeveloped minds.¡±

    ¡°You make it all sound so reasonable.¡± That¡¯s what has me worried. I feel like she¡¯s feeding me platitudes. ¡°Tell me if that¡¯s the complete truth.¡±

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    ¡°Of course, my summoner. There are other ways to go about her education but they would have to wait until she is older. Now, she gets to practice useful skills and learns obedience with a little positive reinforcement.¡±

    ¡°Alright. You¡¯ve done a great job.¡± Really. I had grabbed the bandits without thinking much about it. The saints know how that would have turned out if she weren¡¯t here to take charge. She¡¯s even taking it a step further, not just making them capable servants but quite possibly the pinnacle. ¡°I should get a few more for you to try your hand with.¡±

    ¡°Might I make a few suggestions? Certain minds are easier to train to certain roles.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. Just as long as it¡¯s nothing crazy like sourcing newborns from an orphanage.¡±

    ¡°Ah. A shame.¡±

    Oi, you were seriously thinking that!?

    ¡°I¡¯m joking, Lou.¡±

    ¡­are you?

    ¡°Yes. Remember, my powers can damage young minds. Newborns are like spun glass, I wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±

    ¡°Right, okay.¡± Phew.

    We do visit Gajin. He is tidying up his little shack when we arrive and gives us an enthusiastic greeting. A quick word and he happily jammers on about his projects in the garden and gives us a quick tour of his home. If it weren¡¯t for the walls around us, I wouldn¡¯t be able to differentiate it from the outside. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s healthy sleeping on a bed with vines growing over it but he¡¯s seems fine with it so, I guess?

    But our visit leaves me with a problem. I¡¯m out of servants to visit, er, check-up on.

    Gah, come on. What are the usual things rich people do? Spend money. Party. Harass beautiful peasants into their beds. Gambling.

    Ugh, I¡¯m drawing blanks here.

    ¡°Those all sound like fine ideas.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you start,¡± I hiss at the succubus following me as I head back to the house. Leave it to her to goad me into temptation, terrible woman.

    ¡°Have you ever been to a red-light district, Lou? From what I know of your father¡¯s territory, the local village was too small to accommodate more than an enterprising woman or two with an empty barn.¡±

    ¡°Pfft. Uh, yeah. Basically. Not that I¡¯d know. Wouldn¡¯t have dared back then.¡±

    ¡°I imagine a small-town girl who¡¯s spent her entire life on a farm would be just as scandalized. Quest is a very large city with all kinds of mischief available.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t. Married. Kierra is a lot of things but I doubt she¡¯s one for casual flings with, ehem, women of the night.¡±

    ¡°How poetic, my summoner. And I think we both know exactly how Master would react.¡±

    She has a good point. As if that deviant would have any objections. She¡¯d probably pay for everything and take a front row seat. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly a good place to be. I¡¯d likely get myself into more trouble than I¡¯m already in.¡±

    ¡°High-class establishments aren¡¯t the same as seedy bars. The worst trouble you might run into is losing track of time.¡±

    I¡¯m running out of arguments. ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the day,¡± I continue weakly.

    ¡°Better to have the amenities all to yourself.¡±

    She has an answer for everything! ¡°Ah, nope, nope! I¡¯m not doing it! Hear me? Nope!¡± Stronger wills than me have broken to those temptations. And really, if I¡¯m being honest, I have zero will at all when it comes to pleasure. They¡¯d love to get their hands on me. ¡°We¡¯re going to do something harmless, productive, and not morally questionable.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Lou.¡±

    She must have copied that smile from Kierra because it¡¯s exactly the same. Showing too many teeth with slightly narrowed eyes. A look that¡¯s filled with amusement but still predatory. It¡¯s a look that says she¡¯s waiting for me to break down, anticipating it like a hunter stalking a kill.

    Daring me.

    ¡°¡­at least not now.¡± And as usual, I fold. ¡°Maybe take Kierra with me once all this crap is over with. It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve had a night off.¡±

    Absolutely no restraint, that¡¯s me.

    ¡°Today, I¡¯ll, uh, oh! I can head over to the Summoning Building. Been awhile since I¡¯ve talked to Kristoff.¡± Hopefully, the rumor of my innocence has spread as far as my made-up guilt. If the summoners avoid me, I can still access the public summoning records. I have so many projects to prep for.

    ¡°I¡¯ll prepare a lunch.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 37

    Kierra comes back early in the afternoon to find me in the welcoming room, sprawled on one of the couches with a summoning record in hand. The declaration of my innocence had indeed made its rounds, but I didn¡¯t appreciate all the stares. Luckily, my paper on the incompetent imps, the Tome family legacy, and my good relationship with the Hall¡¯s summoners gives me the leeway to take the precious records out of the building.

    ¡°Hey, you,¡± I say with a lazy wave.

    ¡°I see you took my advice,¡± Kierra says with a smile as she moves over and unapologetically drapes herself over me. This couch is far too small to hold both of us, not to mention that she smells like a mix of sweat and the outdoors. Not that I¡¯ll ask her to move. More than willing to suffer those little inconveniences for some skinship. ¡°What have you gotten up to?¡±

    ¡°Nothing much.¡± I set the record on the table and turn towards her. ¡°How was your day? Do the teachers think you¡¯re still under my sway?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and not because of mind magic. Apparently, they have been wondering about my marriage for a while and this recent ridiculousness gave them the opening to ask questions. Quite a few are interested in meeting you.¡±

    ¡°Ah, sure. If you want. Plenty of house for it.¡±

    ¡°Here.¡± A long white envelope appears in one of her hands. ¡°One of the Hall¡¯s couriers found me returning home.¡±

    ¡°Who would write us a letter?¡± I mumble, grabbing it and turning it over. The simpleness of the envelope doesn¡¯t give me any clues and the only words written on it are To Kierra D¡¯Attainna. ¡°This is for you though?¡±

    ¡°Read it.¡±

    I find the seal already broken and pull out the folded stationary inside. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± My frown steadily deepens as I read.

    Dear Miss Kierra,

    I apologize for the inconvenience, but I have used your name to get a message to Lou. You see, my cousin watches my every move. I am convinced the only line he won¡¯t cross is my father¡¯s agenda regarding you.

    This pertains to a request Lou asked of me. It is a conversation best held in person. I invite you to join me at Howie¡¯s this evening. I will be waiting all night so at your earliest convenience.

    I close my eyes and pinch my nose to stave off a sudden headache. I decided I wanted nothing else to do with this mess and now¡­

    ¡°Fancy a drink tonight?¡± I grumble at my wife, throwing the letter aside. I¡¯m going. Of course I¡¯m going. I asked her to look into the financial angle back when I thought I had the situation under control. Now that I realize how many ways these crazy people can ruin someone¡¯s life and their desperation, I can¡¯t just abandon her. What if she¡¯s gotten herself noticed by the wrong people?

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    And maybe, just maybe, she¡¯s uncovered something that will end that bastard Ferraro and make this whole mess worth it.

    ¡°I¡¯d love to,¡± Kierra purrs as she gets off me. ¡°But first, I need a bath.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go grab Geneva.¡± Normally, Nomad is our driver but this is a potentially hostile encounter. No harm in a few extra precautions.

    -

    True to her word, Maxine is waiting at the bar. The girl is obviously frazzled. Absolutely no one comes here, except for that guy who¡¯s always at the end of the bar, and yet she is wearing an oversized cloak that completely hides her appearance. I only recognize it¡¯s her from the way she¡¯s nursing her mug timidly, holding it with two hands. Gets drunk one time and treats drink like a dangerous animal.

    ¡°Hey, Max.¡± She nearly jumps off her stool at my voice. Maybe that¡¯s why Kierra takes the seat on her opposite side rather than beside me. Instinctively boxing the prey in, hehe. ¡°Calm down. We¡¯re all fine here.¡± I wave to Geneva as she takes the stool beside me and set Bell on the counter. I¡¯d like to see who or what could get past both of them. ¡°No one¡¯s going to get you here.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­you¡¯re right.¡± She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before giving me a hesitant smile. ¡°Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.¡±

    ¡°Mm, well, I did kind of drag you into this mess.¡± She could hardly refuse me and I counted on that. ¡°So, what¡¯s got you skulking around in a dump like this in that horrible bag you¡¯re dressed in?¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Howie growls, serving us our usuals. His drooping ears make his sneer closer to a pout. ¡°My place isn¡¯t a dump.¡±

    I ignore him.

    ¡°Right. After Bell delivered your note to me¡ª¡± Ah right, never thought about how she got the message across. Can¡¯t just send it telepathically since she¡¯s posing as an imp. Nice save, Bell. ¡°I decided to discretely investigate. After all, helping corrupt guilds hired by nobility as escorts to extort their clients is a scandal the Guiness family can¡¯t be connected to in any way.¡±

    The story Bell fed her is close enough to the truth. ¡°And? Did you find anything?¡±

    ¡°He has many contacts within the guilds. It¡¯s difficult to separate the bad from the good. I¡¯d¡­I¡¯d have to get at his accounts. The accounting books specifically. Father always says to catch a rat, follow the money.¡± She titters nervously. ¡°Oh, what am I doing? If he finds me¡­I¡¯m not made for this Lou. I trained to be a store manager, maybe a city coordinator. Not an interrogator. We should contact my father. He has people for this.¡±

    ¡°What happens if your cousin finds out? Not to mention there may not be enough time for the marquis to send help. No, you have to find those books and we can take the proof to the grandmaster. I¡¯m sure he¡¯d be more than happy to intervene on behalf of his students.¡±

    That brings a little color to her cheeks. Heh, I¡¯d be filled with confidence too if I thought Dunwayne was on my side for anything. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine because Bell¡­¡± The little imp freezes as I say her name. You know exactly what I¡¯m thinking, don¡¯t you? I have to stop myself from laughing as she approaches Maxine with a slightly bowed head and a put-upon expression. ¡°Will accompany you and keep you safe.¡± I smile tightly, brokering no argument from Bell¡¯s upturned eyes. ¡°For as long as it takes.¡±

    The little imp sighs. Then she hops off the counter and into Maxine¡¯s lap. ¡°Coo!¡± [As you wish, Master Lou.]

    ¡°There, see? All fine. I know this is going to get scary but just remember this whenever you feel like quitting. If your cousin is trying to exploit members of the Grand Hall, he¡¯ll make the Guiness the most hated family in the kingdom. Dunwayne himself may pay your family a visit. Understand?¡±

    She pales. Her shaking hands drop her mug but Bell is quick to catch it, setting it back on the counter. Already making herself useful. ¡°T-T-That can¡¯t¡­we¡¯ll¡­¡± A pained groaned passes her lips as she drops her head onto the counter with a soft thud.

    I chuckle, giving her back a friendly pat. ¡°Howie! She¡¯s going to need something stronger over here!¡± Good luck, Max. Both our futures depend on it.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 38

    My plan to let my innocence spread in my absence is a failure. I arrive a little later to Mana Work, I blame the late night, and the group collectively rears back at the sight of my succubus. Mano seems ambivalent, giving me his usual serene smile.

    Alana breaks away to stand at my side. She gives me the same ¡°tell you later¡± look and we settle in for the lesson. After almost an hour of death glares, we¡¯re finally released and she drags me away.

    ¡°So, what is it this time?¡± I huff in frustration. ¡°Haven¡¯t they heard that the grandmaster, Dunwayne himself, found me innocent?¡± Really, what more do these people want or need? If I were them, I¡¯d be running over to beg my forgiveness if there existed so much as a chance that I could be connected to the most powerful man in the kingdom, barring the king, and that is only in importance, definitely not in strength.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been whispering again, yes.¡± Alana runs a frustrated hand through her hair. Oh, has to be bad if she¡¯s starting to look stressed. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard anything about you meeting Dunwayne. That actually happen?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Ooh, just a hint of envy there. Don¡¯t worry, I understand entirely. ¡°Well, that¡¯s not what people are talking about. They¡¯re saying that your wife got you out of trouble with the Hall because they want connections to the elves and that the prince has sworn vengeance. If you were bad to be around before, you¡¯re absolutely hazardous now.¡±

    Ha. Ahaha.

    Of course.

    Fuck this.

    ¡°Fuck this,¡± I spit out. ¡°And fuck that prince. This is why I hate, hate royals. With their stupid hair and stupid importance. Goddamn impotent, uptight, little bastard!¡± I continue to insult the second prince as I stomp toward our next class, stewing in my anger as I endure a lecture on mana in Magic Theory.

    Not even Kierra¡¯s training is enough to calm my ire. I take the projectile evasion training with a scowl. Dodging arrows with only a small buckler for protection only fuels my anger and by the time we¡¯re done, I¡¯m practically spitting fire.

    Probably not a good idea to go the Gold Dorm. With a prince out to kill me, it¡¯s a good way to get into trouble, and with the way I¡¯m feeling, I might give him the fight he wants.

    So, we slink off to the Bronze Dorm. I¡¯ll deal with this tomorrow when I can think about Samuel without imagining punching him in the face. Right now, I just want to get something to eat, finish the day, and sit with my wife on our balcony.

    Entering the dining room, we get the same treatment as before. As in, the room recoils away from Geneva when we pass. Your stupid suspicions alone, I¡¯m not leaving her home. With Bell away protecting Max, she¡¯s my only protection now, so they¡¯re going deal with their irrational fears that I¡¯m poking through their irrelevant lives or magic is the reason they¡¯re getting a hard-on for the succubus.

    All I want is to get the food down me but it¡¯s immediately apparent that our usual table is hostile territory. There are three new faces hanging about, which in itself isn¡¯t worrying. The problem is they are gathered around Abel and he is speaking to them excitedly while the three wear deep scowls.

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    He looks up, spots me, and gestures. Three pairs of eyes land on me. They don¡¯t look friendly.

    The air is frigid as Alana and I take our seats, Geneva standing at my shoulder. Abel is obviously waiting for me to say something, so I ignore him, my anger making the food bland.

    Don¡¯t do it. Don¡¯t you do it.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re eating with us, Lou,¡± Abel starts with a sneer in his voice. ¡°I heard that you used your thrall to trick your way into the Gold Dorm¡¯s dining hall. How else could a pest like you worm your way to the prince¡¯s table?¡±

    I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then I set down my spoon and face him. Wrong day to provoke me. ¡°I see you¡¯re still keeping company with incompetents. I got into the Gold Dorm after receiving an invitation from the dorm mother, who gave me permission each time.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You could put a voice into her head.¡±

    ¡°Oh, great. If you¡¯re so sure, why don¡¯t you make a formal complaint? You know, they¡¯re obligated to investigate any claims of mental affinity abuse. They¡¯ll do a full investigation but, hey, if it turns out I¡¯m innocent and you¡¯re full of shit, they¡¯re going to wonder if someone stupid and petty enough to spread treasonous rumors about someone is worth keeping at the Hall. But you¡¯ve got nothing to worry about, right?¡±

    I laugh as he frowns. ¡°Oh, but of course not. You¡¯re just a lapdog, a worthless bastard who gets his worth from licking the heels of rich brats, hoping they throw you a golden bone. You wouldn¡¯t dare do something yourself, take a risk. After I whipped your last master, you scurried away, never tried to challenge me again like the dickless coward you are.

    ¡°And now you think you can stir shit so a prince takes care of your grudge for you. Or maybe you think playing into that asshole virgin¡¯s stupid vendetta is going to get you noticed. Here¡¯s some insight for you. You won¡¯t. He doesn¡¯t care, he won¡¯t care, no one will fucking care because you¡¯re nothing!¡±

    ¡°Lou,¡± Alana says with a hint of alarm, reaching up to put a hand on my arm.

    ¡°You should watch what you say,¡± one of the three strangers says, also standing.

    ¡°And who are you three jesters?¡± I spit out. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re following the direction of this leech, cause then there¡¯s really no hope for you.¡± I look at their minimum armor with distaste. ¡°Foundation acolytes, huh? Well, you¡¯re smart enough not to stick yourself with the pointy end of the sword so maybe there¡¯s hope yet.¡±

    ¡°That thing is a menace,¡± the young man says, pointing to Geneva. ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing against you personally but it shouldn¡¯t be here. Something that can climb in people¡¯s heads shouldn¡¯t be allowed to exist.¡±

    ¡°You should share your opinion with the king. Can¡¯t have that pesky mental affinity around. Why don¡¯t we get rid of all the interrogators? All those children born with it? Round them up and put them down, lest they grow up to be a menace.¡±

    He flinches. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, of course it isn¡¯t. You just want to live in a perfect world where anything you don¡¯t like just magically disappears. I wish I did too. Clue, you wouldn¡¯t be in it.¡±

    ¡°Oi,¡± one of his friends says stepping forward. ¡°That thing¡¯s not even human. It shouldn¡¯t be here. Get rid of it or someone will do it for you.¡±

    I bark out a laugh. ¡°Who? You?¡±

    ¡°I might,¡± he says, puffing out his chest. ¡°The Hall has rules against attacking attendees and guests. That thing ain¡¯t either.¡±

    Alana¡¯s grip on my arm tightens, drawing my attention to her. She gives a quick shake of her head, silently asking me to back down. Ah, this must look bad. Three guys bigger than me staring me down. If only she knew.

    I give her a smile, and probably not a nice one, before turning back to the dead men walking. Geneva steps forward, putting herself between me and them. ¡°Are you all talk like dickless over there? Be my guest. Won¡¯t raise a hand to stop you. Hell, if you want to make this official, I¡¯ll issue the challenge right now.¡±

    Ah, he¡¯s not looking so confident now that his threats have fallen flat. The three look at each other trying to come to a consensus and it makes me angrier. Really? Why did you even bother if you weren¡¯t ready to see it through? Are you really jesters, dragging me into some silly play to entertain the room? Did you think you could impress the prince and his lackeys by making me cower?

    Why is everyone intent on screwing with me!?

    ¡°You goddamn bastards! I cha¡ªmmph!¡±

    A hand covers my mouth, muffling my next words. ¡°We¡¯re going,¡± Alana says in a harsh tone, pulling me backwards.

    Wait, I¡¯m not done with these idiots!

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 39

    ¡°Mm! Mmph mmhmm!¡±

    Alana ignores me as she pulls me out of the dining room. Hey, Geneva! Your summoner is being assaulted! Aren¡¯t you going to do something about this?

    [You seem quite safe, Lou. And I don¡¯t think you want me raising a hand against your little sun. I wouldn¡¯t want to leave a mark on your treasure.]

    What kind of¡ªno, take a breath, Lou. Take a breath. She is bound to only act in your interest. It¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m being dragged away. Hurting them might feel good for the moment but it won¡¯t give me anything and it won¡¯t do anything for my reputation.

    No matter what, don¡¯t take it out on her. My friend who is only trying to help. Geneva¡¯s right, I wouldn¡¯t ask her to do anything that could hurt Alana. Another deep breath, they¡¯re not worth it.

    It¡¯s easier to think out in the open, away from the looks. Alana must feel my body relaxing because she releases my arm. The Bronze Dorm is far behind us as she motions for me to sit down with her.

    ¡°What was that, Lou?¡± she asks cautiously, giving me a sidelong glance.

    I sigh. ¡°It¡¯s been a very trying few days. They just made themselves convenient targets. I wasn¡¯t in any danger.¡±

    ¡°I know. Don¡¯t forget, I see you training every day. You could have taken the three of them in a fair fight without any magic.¡±

    I blink in surprise. Wasn¡¯t expecting the vote of confidence. ¡°Then why¡¯d you drag me away?¡±

    ¡°Lou, you looked ready to kill them. Forget the law for a moment. The Hall trains the greatest casters on the continent. Future leaders, knights, and powerful hunters. If you want any kind of future besides common labor, you¡¯ll have to work with them, and they¡¯ll remember you.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then they¡¯ll know not to try any of this crap again.¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m overreacting. I don¡¯t know what you want to do once you¡¯ve learned all you can from this place. You have Teacher after all.¡±

    ¡°¡­no. No, you¡¯re right.¡± I fall backward onto the grass. The vast sky reminds me that I¡¯m only in one stage of my life. A small stop to prepare for the real adventure, out there in the world. These monkeys won¡¯t mean anything in a handful of years.

    ¡°You¡¯re absolutely right. I¡¯m supposed to be taking advantage of the Hall¡¯s resources, not letting these idiots take advantage of me. Thanks, Alana. I wouldn¡¯t have regretted it, but it wasn¡¯t necessary.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I¡¯m really worried that this is a plot of the prince. Harassing you until you break and then painting you as a violent maniac. They wouldn¡¯t let somebody like that walk around, Lou.¡±

    I freeze. Had I really fallen into another trap? It¡¯s true, dangerous casters don¡¯t last long. If the prince managed to convince someone important enough that I pose a threat to the kingdom...

    Next time, I¡¯m going to take my lovers up on their assassination plans. Clearly, they saw things more clearly than me. Can¡¯t imagine how simpler things would be if Samuel had quietly disappeared one night. Or even if he just woke up in an alley, missing his clothes and coin purse. Ah, regret.

    ¡°I doubt it, but they did accuse me of treason. If it is their plan, fine. I¡¯ll show them just how little they matter.¡±

    ¡°Told you not to mix with nobles. Never turns out good.¡±

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    ¡°You do know I¡¯m a noble, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re different. Chipped plate in the cabinet.¡± She copies me and lies back on the grass. ¡°A few years, Lou. Then¡­you¡¯ll come back to Fort Victory with me. We¡¯ll go north and make a name for ourselves. See what they have to say then. The prince will be begging for your favor when we¡¯re the next Harvest heroes.¡±

    ¡°Wow. You should really dream bigger,¡± I drawl lazily. She lightly jabs me in the shoulder. The north, huh? ¡°A land of everlasting winter and monsters that thrive in it isn¡¯t exactly my idea of a good time. You should come with me to slay dragons. It¡¯ll be warmer.¡±

    ¡°So warm your bones will melt. But, uh, yeah.¡±

    Oh? I bolt upright, narrowing my eyes at her as my lips turn up in a grin. ¡°What was that?¡±

    Alana rolls her eyes. ¡°Saints, you¡¯re so predictable. I said yes, Lou. Once we conquer the north, I¡¯ll go galivanting around the world with you. Well, at least for a while.¡±

    My grin stretches into a full-fledged smile. ¡°Now that¡¯s something to look forward to! And what do you mean I¡¯m predictable?¡±

    ¡°You get far too excited when it comes to women.¡±

    ¡°Only the beautiful ones.¡± Hehe, her face gains a hint of color but otherwise she doesn¡¯t react. Getting too used to me? ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t be excited to go on a trip with their best friend? I¡¯m telling you, I¡¯ve nothing but pure intentions.¡±

    She snorts in disbelief. ¡°Sure.¡± Eyeing me, she raises a hand, extending her pinky. ¡°Now, promise me you¡¯re not going to do anything that messes it up for us.¡±

    I can¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°What are we, children?¡±

    ¡°Shut up and promise.¡±

    A wave of fondness fills my chest with warmth as I reach out and lock pinkies with her. Saints, this feels ridiculous, but I can¡¯t stop smiling either. ¡°I promise.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± She releases my hand and hops to her feet. Her stomach gives a polite growl, as if reminding her she hasn¡¯t eaten. ¡°Damn.¡±

    ¡°You could go back in,¡± I offer, getting to my feet. ¡°They might give you a little grief but shouldn¡¯t cause trouble if I¡¯m not there.¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡± Her features set with determination. ¡°We stick together.¡±

    This girl. ¡°Alana, go in. Starving yourself isn¡¯t going to hurt them.¡±

    She opens her mouth but her stomach beats her to it, growling less politely. Her face gains another light dash of color as she clears her throat. How cute. ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t have you ¡®compromise your honor¡¯ again. Tomorrow we¡¯ll meet at, uh, the dueling field.¡± It¡¯s got seats and is far enough away to not draw any attention. ¡°Now, hurry up. You don¡¯t have much time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. See you later, Lou. Don¡¯t get into trouble without me.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±

    She gives me a dubious look before jogging off. I sigh as she pulls further away. ¡°You know Geneva, I think it might be a bit too late for me,¡± I say as I hear the succubus approach. ¡°Being a danger, that is. I look at her and I know that she is good and that we are nothing like each other.¡±

    ¡°Like night and day, my summoner,¡± the succubus agrees with a chuckle.

    ¡°I was going to hurt them. I might have actually let you kill them. A bunch of worthless, second-rate knights whose greatest accomplishment in life will be guarding a baron¡¯s front gate if they¡¯re lucky. I would have risked my work here just because they were convenient targets for my anger.¡±

    ¡°Relax. This is not your normal self. The altercation with the prince has left you very stressed for numerous days.¡± She reaches up, hands gently massaging my tense shoulders until they sag. ¡°And when you tried to extricate yourself, you were dragged back in unexpectedly. Anyone¡¯s patience would be tried.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­yeah, you¡¯re right.¡± This has been an incredible few days. I¡¯m not a monster, just tired. Nothing wrong with that. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you to make lunch for me. I¡¯ll be fine with Kierra in Foundation and you can escort us from there to the field.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Lou. I am here to help you. There is nothing wrong with relying on me.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± On a whim, I change my hand to my elemental form and turn, holding a finger over my shoulder. I turn my head as her pearly white teeth snap shut, cleanly severing it. Her face is a study in ecstasy as she slowly savors it, tail whipping frantically behind her.

    A quick thought brings my hand back, my human one, whole and healthy. ¡°Alright. New goal. Until Maxine brings me back something, I am going to relax. No thinking about dumb princes, possible assassins, or that walking bag of manure Abel. No more problems. No worries.¡± Before I kill someone.

    Soft lips kiss the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine as dainty arms wrap around my waist. ¡°Allow me to assist you, my summoner,¡± Geneva whispers as one of her hands pushes into my pants.

    ¡°Bu¡ªwha¡ªhere? Now?!¡± We¡¯re in the open!

    ¡°No worries, correct?¡±

    Ah. ¡°This isn¡¯t exactly what I me¡ªahh!¡±

    She¡¯s being a lot more aggressive. Is she trying to get another piece of me? Or maybe¡ªno. What¡¯d I just decide? No more worries, not now. Not even about the succubus who may or may not be trying to get me addicted to her so she can eat me alive.

    Just going to relax and enjoy it.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 40

    The next morning, I¡¯m met with the same mix of scorn and fear from my fellows in Mana Work but the me of today is different. I¡¯m determined to have a good day. Nothing and no one can get in the way. That¡¯s right. The sun rose this morning just to light my way and I won¡¯t hear someone trying to tell me otherwise.

    I ignore them as I set up for my daily meditation. I¡¯m going to be extra comfortable today as tucked under my arm is an extravagantly plush pillow. My succubus is quite comfortable but there is no such thing as too much comfort.

    No such thing.

    I¡¯m getting looks for a different reason as Geneva sits down on the grass but who cares? My head is ensconced in a cloud. Geneva makes it even better by lightly massaging my head, making it a little difficult to focus on my mana.

    I almost don¡¯t want to get up when our hour is over. My next class is entirely drowned out by Geneva playing music in my head while using her abilities to drown out my presence, showing me samples from different realms. Some of it sounds suspiciously similar to the small bands I heard when I was younger and attended festivals in the capital, but it¡¯s otherwise enjoyable.

    My mood is at its peak on my way to see my lovely barbarian. Alana gives me a look as we go toward Foundation I. I don¡¯t blame her. This must be the first time I¡¯ve ever been happy on our way to our torturer, eh, instructor. ¡°You alright, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Me? Perfectly fine on this wonderful day. How about you, my friend?¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m fine. You seem unnaturally¡­chipper.¡±

    I tsk at her. ¡°Not unnaturally, Alana. I am very chipper for a very good reason. Today¡¯s a good day. A day where no problems can touch me. Why wouldn¡¯t I be happy?¡±

    Her concern grows. ¡°Did the prince get eaten by a dragon or something?¡±

    ¡°Not that I know. I just realized you¡¯re right. We have bigger and better things ahead of us. No need to get so worked up about the gimmicks of a horny boy.¡± Did I overcome my fear of royals overnight? Of course not. It¡¯s just that I am resolutely pushing that fear to the side.

    If I refuse to follow his game or engage with him in anyway, there is nothing he can do to me. The one I¡¯m worried about isn¡¯t even Samuel, but the king. Until a royal decree gets passed down, I refuse to let myself get as stressed as I was again.

    Thinking back, my actions were quite embarrassing. They¡¯d make sense for the old Lourianne Tome but I am the reincarnated daughter of Cosmo, a god amongst mortals. A king is an ant to him. Well, I¡¯ve got my head on straight now.

    It has absolutely nothing to do with Geneva having her way with me last night. Nothing at all. Though my aversion to her is steadily flowing away. Who knew there were so many ways to use a tail¡­

    ¡°You''re wearing a disgusting smile right now.¡±

    I stow my grin and shrug, picking up the pace. ¡°Come on, Alana. We don¡¯t want to be late for Kierra¡¯s affection.¡±

    I hear her mutter something about ¡®crazy¡¯ and ¡®mushrooms¡¯ as she jogs to keep up with me. We¡¯re not the first ones but we''re early enough that my wife and her helpers are still setting up.

    Looks like today is a practice day. Her helpers have brought along a barrel of wooden swords and there¡¯s a small dirt ring off to the side, no doubt to accommodate me. Kierra stands inside, her normal lovely self. That smile could outshine the sun.

    Skipping over, I launch myself at her, arms going about her waist. She pulls me closer. ¡°I see your good day is going strong.¡±

    In answer, I push up onto my toes to kiss her. Does she shy away? Of course not. She kisses me full on, one hand migrating into my hair as she deepens the kiss. Doesn¡¯t so much as pull back for a breath of air as I part my lips, inviting her inside.

    ¡°Ah-hem.¡±

    I ignore whoever that is as they continue to cough. They should get that looked at.

    ¡°¡­Teacher, the class is prepared.¡±

    Kierra finally pulls away, licking her lips. I take the time to look around. The rest of the class has arrived and there are lots of red faces. The girls have mostly turned away, including Alana with a hand over her eyes, all with varying expressions ranging from curious interest to outright disgust. The boys¡­unanimous lust, though some hide it better than others. A few of them are watching with an intensity that would be uncomfortable on any other day.

    But not today! Because today I have no worries.

    ¡°Today is practice,¡± she says looking at her students without letting go of me. She rattles off groups, amazed she knows all their names, and assigns her helpers as instructors. Then she turns back to me. ¡°Now, what to do with you?¡±

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    ¡°Whatever you want,¡± I reply with my best grin.

    ¡°Sweet talker. How am I supposed to bully you when you look at me like that, hm?¡± She shoves me toward Alana, grinning. ¡°Perhaps the cubs should play with each other today instead.¡±

    I gasp theatrically. ¡°You ask me to lay hands on a lady? I could never!¡±

    Alana¡¯s embarrassed frown turns into a sneer. ¡°I¡¯ll show you a lady,¡± she says, menacingly cracking her knuckles.

    ¡°Are we flirting now?¡±

    Kierra chuckles as she steps out of the ring. ¡°Shall we make things interesting? A hit to the face, neck, and chest count as one point. Arms and legs half. Five-minute rounds or to a point. Now, the stakes.¡±

    She looked to Alana. ¡°Most points by the end, how about¡­I organize a private hunt in the Beast Sanctuary. It should be good practice and if you¡¯re successful, you get to keep all profits from your kill.¡±

    Her eyes light up. For an aspiring knight, real experience is irreplaceable. Not to mention she can make her own contacts with the advanced foundation acolytes and instructors. She¡¯s definitely fired up. She tries to give me an intimidating look and I blow her a kiss, chuckling at her scowl.

    ¡°As for you, dedia.¡± Kierra hums. ¡°I couldn¡¯t really reward you without taking something away first. Ah, yes. Then, a kiss from your friend there.¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    We both look to Alana who is blushing bright red, nothing subtle about it. ¡°No way,¡± she reiterates, giving us both glares. ¡°I¡¯m not going to¡ªto¡ª¡±

    ¡°How about this,¡± I interrupt. ¡°I won¡¯t kiss you. You kiss me. Anywhere you like.¡±

    She sneers, opens her mouth to probably curse me, then pauses, considering. I gave her a way out. With this, she could just drop a peck on the back of my hand. Very knightly and completely safe.

    ¡°¡­you sure about that?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± I roll my shoulders and gesture for her to come on. I wouldn¡¯t ask for her to do anything that makes her uncomfortable just for my enjoyment. Heck, if I thought I could get away with it, I¡¯d let her win, but Kierra would do something nightmare-invoking if she thought I was subverting her training. ¡°Mm. I¡¯ll even throw in that you can do it anytime today. Just in case an audience makes you shy.¡±

    With an impressive growl, she throws herself at me. She¡¯s gotten better at her hand-to-hand but she¡¯s a swordswoman at heart. She still fights like she¡¯s got a blade in hand. Short, powerful blows done in a straightforward manner. Prefers blocking and parrying, is terrible at countering. Good footwork but more so focused on advancing and attacking rather than dodging.

    No dirty tactics either. All of her attacks are aimed at my chest, no attacks below the belt, and her feet stay on the ground. Nothing like the wild, frenzied style of Kierra or the calculated maneuvers from Geneva when my wife coaxes her into a fight.

    I duck under a punch and push forward, ramming her with a shoulder. Reckless, but it works. This girl is a little too weak to non-traditional fighting. She trips over her feet and falls on her back. I hear an ¡°oof¡± of air leaving her lungs, but she quickly rolls to her feet.

    ¡°Alright!¡± Kierra calls. ¡°Two-minute break. Alana, anything broken?¡±

    ¡°Just her pride!¡± I snipe. ¡°Hehe, how does it fill to get knocked on your ass?¡±

    ¡°Why the hell are you so strong?¡± she spits. ¡°Your arms are like noodles.¡±

    ¡°Oi, you need a healer for your eyes.¡± I pose. I may not have bulk, but I¡¯ve got definition. ¡°Besides, I just rammed into you. A bunny could knock you down the same way with that clumsy balance.¡±

    ¡°You little¡­¡± She rolls her neck with a sigh. ¡°One of these days, I¡¯m going to take you down so hard not even your wife can put you back together.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you threaten me with a good time.¡± I flutter my eyes. ¡°Pursuing a maiden so aggressively. What will people say? You¡¯ll have to take responsibility, Ms. Knight.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re a maiden, I¡¯m a dragon.¡±

    ¡°Definitely hot enough.¡±

    ¡°Are you just constantly in heat!?¡±

    ¡°Break time¡¯s over!¡± Kierra calls, clapping her hands. We go back at it.

    We fight for the whole hour. I¡¯m stronger than her and more flexible. Means if I get her in a grapple, round over. Don¡¯t know if she finally learned something or her frustration reached its peak, but she started fighting dirty. Got a solid point when she headbutted me. Broke my nose too. Looked a little guilty until Kierra waved her hand over my face and I stood up ready for more, grinning.

    By the end, we¡¯re both covered in dirt and splattered with blood. Alana is lying on the grass, arm thrown over her eyes as she pants for breath. I¡¯m crouched beside her, one hand cupping my chin as I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest.

    Mm. She¡¯s not very large in that department but she¡¯s got a kind of budding charm. Still time to grow.

    ¡°I can feel you staring, damn pervert.¡±

    ¡°Just making sure my friend doesn¡¯t expire,¡± I reply easily.

    ¡°Good work,¡± Kierra says. ¡°The final score is Lou with eight points, Alana with three. We have a winner.¡±

    ¡°Was there ever any doubt?¡± I say in my best ¡®haughty noble¡¯ voice, looking down my nose. Alana moves her arm, catches a glimpse of my expression, and then lets out a disinterested grunt. Chuckling, I extend a hand to her. She gives it a dirty look but eventually accepts, letting me pull her to her feet.

    ¡°You¡¯ll get her next time, hm?¡± Kierra moves over to Alana. I snicker as she ruffles her hair, Alana trying and failing to pull away. Only when the blonde stack is thoroughly in disarray does Kierra let her escape. Then she turns to me, gives my dirty personage adorned with a charming smile a raised brow, then kisses me anyway. ¡°I¡¯ll let the two of you settle the matter of your wager. Alana, keep an eye on her. Or don¡¯t. Friends should be close~¡±

    She gives my wife an incredulous look. ¡°There¡¯s two of you.¡±

    ¡°Hey, she infected me. I was an upstanding woman before this elf got her hands on me.¡± I put an arm over her shoulders and lead her away from the foundation fields. ¡°You¡¯re lucky. She¡¯s holding back because she¡¯s training you all to the Hall¡¯s standards. Trust me, you give that elf unfettered access to you and you¡¯ll be running around naked, howling at the moon and tearing out the throats of prey with your teeth. Within the year.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡±

    ¡°Wish I was.¡±

    ¡°Is that, ah. I mean, is she the reason you¡¯re¡­¡± I turn to her as she clears her throat. ¡°Attracted to women?¡±

    ¡°What? Course not. I was feeling up my maids when I was a brat.¡±

    She shrugs my arm off and hits me. Then hits me several more times as I laugh, giving token attempts to fend her off, all the while barking out, ¡°Upstanding. Woman. My. Ass! You. Damn. Pervert!¡±

    I dance away from her, smothering my chuckles, and turn so I¡¯m walking backward. ¡°Though I had the inclination, she¡¯s the first woman I¡¯ve been with. Believe it or not, I was a maiden at one time. A little hard to maintain decorum around a force of nature like that.¡±

    She huffs, unimpressed. ¡°I¡¯m not falling for it twice.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the truth, though? What¡¯s there to fall for?¡±

    ¡°I know you now, Lou. Probably more than I want to.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re my friend anyway.¡±

    She gives a tired sigh. ¡°Saints help me, I am.¡±

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 41

    ¡°You should probably get out more. Geo¡¯s been saying I should visit the city¡¯s red-light district. Want to come with?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to hate you in a good mood. It¡¯s annoying.¡±

    Geneva finds us as we¡¯re still sniping at each other. I can see Alana is curious about her load; in one hand, she¡¯s carrying three square black boxes stacked on top of each other. In the other hand, a taller rectangular box with a rug tucked under her arm. I block her questions about their contents as we approach the dueling field.

    The only other time I¡¯ve been here, the stands were full of initiates and acolytes, jeering and cheering as I faced off with Peter Pottoculli. Seems a little strange with the benches empty. Eerie almost.

    Not enough to stop me from directing Geneva to a spot on the grass. I take the boxes from her, which are surprisingly heavy, and she unfurls the rug under her arm with a flourish. We arrange the boxes and open them.

    I grin at Alana¡¯s gasp. Well deserved. Right here is the best of all picnics, a literal feast. There is everything from little finger sandwiches, to sliced fruits, to small entrees. The tall, thin box contains the drinks; water, juices, and wines chilling in a bucket of ice.

    And the deserts. Those have their own little box inside a box.

    ¡°Wha¡­¡±

    ¡°Come on.¡± I guide my shocked friend to take a seat. ¡°Here, give her your hands. Close your eyes for a minute.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°No food unless you close them.¡±

    She scowls but follows the direction. I cup her hands with my own and extend them toward Geneva. A ball of water encases them, washing them clean of dirt and grime. Something a thrall shouldn¡¯t be capable of.

    Sorry, Alana. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t trust you with my secrets but someone with the mental affinity could swipe your secrets no matter the intention. Someday, though.

    ¡°You have a rag?¡± I ask my succubus. She pulls one out of the smaller box, wets it, and hands it to me. ¡°Alright. Open.¡±

    Alana opens her eyes and I hand her the rag. She promptly uses it to wash her face, especially around her mouth, before handing it back. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Be a shame to ruin the taste of this beautiful lunch with the taste of dirt.

    ¡°Can I¡­¡± Her eyes move toward the boxes and then looks back at me. I burst out laughing.

    ¡°Yeah, go ahead.¡±

    She needs no more encouragement, grabbing one of the sandwiches and taking a large bite. Then she freezes. I¡¯m just about to call out to her when she hastily scarfs down the rest of it and reaches for another.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± I say, as she starts on the third. ¡°You want to slow down?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s so good,¡± she grumbles between bites, ignoring me as she goes for a slice of fruit. Geneva, the little devil, just smiles and slides over a bottle of juice.

    ¡°I know her food is good but jeez.¡± I grab one of the sandwiches for myself and take a bite. And freeze just like she did.

    Saints. Did Cosmos lay his godly hands on my kitchen when I wasn¡¯t paying attention? Meat isn¡¯t this tender or flavorful, bread can¡¯t be this soft, and this sauce. I¡¯ve got no idea what could possibly be blended to make this. It tastes how sex feels and I moan like my wife is going down on me. ¡°Gen¡ªI mean, Geo. What the fuck?¡±

    Her grin stretches wider. ¡°You said you wanted today to be special.¡±

    ¡°You could cook like this all the time!?¡± I feel cheated, frustrated, and downright bamboozled.

    ¡°If I plied you with otherworldly tastes all the time, you¡¯d never enjoy mundane food again.¡±

    ¡°¡­true.¡± I sigh but my mood is quickly lifted as she hands me a small plate of pasta.

    I thought Alana was enjoying the food but then she reaches the deserts. The sound she makes after trying Geneva¡¯s chocolate cake makes me blush, which is saying something at this point, but she doesn¡¯t care. She can¡¯t bring herself to devour it, taking small bites and savoring it like she¡¯s making love to the damn thing.

    I¡¯m not jealous of a piece of cake. That¡¯d be stupid.

    Never mind if I chew a little forcefully on my bag of cookies while watching her, searing the vision into my memory.

    Nothing is left of our lunch, not a crumb. Alana lays back with a protruding belly and a satisfied smile. ¡°If I kiss the succubus, can I have that every day?¡±

    I glare at the grinning succubus in question. Nope. If I can¡¯t seduce her, neither can you. Damn devil. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m the summoner. You should be putting that consideration toward me.¡±

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    She turns with narrowed eyes and my heart gives a little excited thump. Wait, is she considering it? Well then¡ª

    My hopes are dashed by her scoff as she turns away. A beautiful dream, gone in the blink of an eye. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can stand.¡±

    ¡°Geo can carry you.¡± Thought I was going to offer? Ha! As if. After basically brawling in the mud for an hour and that meal, I¡¯m ready to pass out right here.

    In fact¡­ah, we¡¯ve got time and Geneva¡¯ll wake me if I fall asleep. I make myself comfortable and lay beside Alana. The sun is just warm enough to enjoy the heat on my face without worrying about it scorching me, a soft breeze occasionally cooling me down.

    And not a prince in sight to ruin it.

    -

    The next day I¡¯m not so lucky.

    Alana and I are enjoying lunch, not quite so out of this realm in its tastes since Geneva¡¯s right in the assertion I¡¯d never eat mundane food again, when I hear raised voices approaching the field. Voices I really hate that I recognize.

    ¡°Unhand me, I said!¡±

    With a long-suffering sigh of one who knows the future, I motion for Alana to stay seated as I roll to my feet. A wild prince appears. I am sure this is the way escorts feel when a manabeast leaps out at the carriage they¡¯re guarding. I still instinctively feel the normal dread but I relax, shoving it down. Not this time.

    He¡¯s a royal. I¡¯m a demigod. I win in every way, even without my divine father.

    Time to act like it.

    He has his entourage with him; Browyn his usual stoic self while walking slightly ahead, Marcus next to him with a carefully crafted blank expression, Cecilia at his other side looking fairly unhappy, Fina at her shoulder as usual, and surprisingly the colorful Julius tagging along, bringing up the rear.

    Then there¡¯s Samuel. Good ol¡¯ Sammy. I¡¯m getting used to the disdain he looks at me with. Special mix of disgust, disregard, and loathing. He¡¯s armed with that sword of his. Oh geez, don¡¯t tell me he¡¯s here to start a fight? I doubt that bald bastard will conveniently drop down to stop it.

    Damn, I¡¯m still tired from Kierra¡¯s affections. After a throwback to our first lesson, running a tight corridor with dogs chasing us, my legs feel like lead. Not in the mood to leg it across this field to dodge whatever spell that artifact is going to throw at me, but I prepare anyway, stretching as the prince closes the distance.

    ¡°Lourianne Tome!¡±

    ¡°Good morning, Prince Samuel!¡±

    He stops abruptly, taken off guard by my cheerful reply. My smile is fake but immovable. Not ruining my day, nope. I shall bludgeon you with politeness and good cheer until you can¡¯t stomach me. ¡°What brings you to me on such a fine day?¡±

    Samuel visibly gathers himself, his frown reforming as he straightens his shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t know what trickery you have pulled to escape detection from the Hall but I won¡¯t be fooled. Unforgivable, conducting your dark practices on the Harvest kingdom elite.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes. I think I understand. Dunwayne mentioned that he would investigate the claim. I hope you didn¡¯t get into too much trouble. All I wanted was to prove my innocence.¡±

    He scowls. Oh, did I hit a nerve?

    [My summoner, I believe the prince was reprimanded by his family. Ah, his father.]

    Heh, they told his daddy on him. How embarrassing.

    ¡°You¡­even if the Hall refuses to take action, I demand satisfaction.¡± His hand goes to his sword. Alana notices the escalation and sets down her sandwich, muscles tense and ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice.

    Don¡¯t do it.

    ¡°I challenge you to a duel!¡±

    Oh, good. Thought he was going to start slinging magic. ¡°I refuse!¡±

    I again seem to have caught him off guard with my swift refusal. His hand tightens on the hilt of his sword. ¡°Wha¡ªyou can¡¯t refuse!¡±

    ¡°I surely can and I must.¡± I put a hand to my chest, bowing my head. ¡°As a fellow attendee of the Hall, as a noble, as a good subject of the crown, how could I ever attack one of royal blood? It would be shameful to even suggest that I could, hence, I must refuse.¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous! You are just a coward.¡±

    ¡°Yes! I am most cowardly! You shouldn¡¯t think to stain your sword fighting me.¡±

    ¡°Do you make fun of me?¡±

    ¡°Surely we would both agree I am more of the jester.¡±

    ¡°Fight me, dammit!¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I cannot strike you. But if you are intent on a competition, I can oblige in other ways. Perhaps even a wager could be made?¡±

    ¡°A wager.¡± His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he releases his sword. ¡°Yes, a competition. I will best you and then you will leave the Hall, never to pass through the gates of Quest ever again.¡±

    ¡°My prince¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not now,¡± Samuel bites out, interrupting Marcus. Cecilia¡¯s frown is replaced by a look of interest, wondering how far this will go. Just like me.

    Can¡¯t believe he¡¯s taking this seriously. I was so afraid of this idiot? He¡¯s dancing on the palm on my hand when I¡¯m not even trying. He¡¯s like a child, throwing a tantrum. No, that¡¯s exactly what he is.

    Wonder how far he¡¯s ready to go?

    ¡°My prince, please!¡± Marcus speaks up. ¡°This is ridiculous. The girl is clearly trying to scam you into an unfair duel. You cannot trust her. Why else would she agree?¡±

    The prince still looks ready to ignore him but then Browyn puts a hand on his shoulder. They lock eyes and the stoic young man gives his head a single shake. Samuel¡¯s shoulders drop in disappointment.

    ¡°Questioning the honor of a lady.¡± I tsk, shaking my head. ¡°No wonder you¡¯re his servant, you have no noble spirit at all. And speaking of ladies.¡± I turn my attention to Cecilia. ¡°Lady Rosefield, forgive me for not addressing you sooner. A pleasure to see you again.¡±

    ¡°You keep your pet¡¯s dirty fingers away from her,¡± Samuel growled, stepping in front of his damsel in distress. Too bad he can¡¯t see the death glare she¡¯s giving him behind his back. Sad that he thinks that I¡¯m the source of his problems when the shovel digging his grave is firmly in his hand.

    I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what I¡¯m about to do. Looking past his broad shoulders, I lock eyes with Cecilia. ¡°Geo has completed a few new desserts. Would you like to try some?¡± I offer, ignoring the prince.

    Just, ignoring him.

    You don¡¯t ignore royalty.

    His clenched jaw and flushed face show just how incredulous he is. Marcus¡¯ fa?ade breaks, his lips parting as he looks at me with wide eyes. Not even Browyn is unaffected, giving his charge a worried glance.

    The prince looks like he is about to explode when Cecilia steps out from behind him. ¡°I¡¯d be delighted,¡± she says brightly, as if the tension around our little gathering isn¡¯t thick enough to drown in.

    ¡°Cec¡ª¡±

    He grabs her arm and she whirls on him. ¡°You forget yourself, my prince,¡± she hisses, glaring at him. Samuel jolts, reflexively letting go and staring at her as if he¡¯s trying to see beneath a mask. She doesn¡¯t give him the chance to come back to himself, continuing toward me, Fina at her shoulder. I gesture to the spread blanket. Alana makes room and Geneva is quick to serve them plates.

    ¡°Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t bring enough for everyone,¡± I say to Samuel. ¡°But you wouldn¡¯t be so boorish as to intrude on meeting between women, hm? I¡¯m sure you gentlemen can find a way to entertain one another.¡±

    Again, Samuel looks ready to take my head off but I don¡¯t flinch, watching him with a smile. Browyn is again the one to stop him. When Samuel doesn¡¯t respond to his gentle shake of the head, he yanks the prince back, dragging him away from us.

    Marcus gives me one last dirty look before hurrying after them.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 42

    I wait until they are several meters away before relaxing my act, letting out a groan. ¡°Oh, thank the saints that is over with.¡± I drop down to the blanket and lay my head on Geneva¡¯s lap. Just to save space, really. ¡°How did he even find me?¡±

    ¡°You are quite known throughout the initiates and he is a prince,¡± Cecilia answers while accepting a glass of wine from Geneva. ¡°There were no shortage of eyes and feet willing to help him.¡±

    I huff. ¡°He should be more focused on his studies.¡± The fact that he¡¯s carrying around an artifact while trying to challenge me makes me doubt his abilities. ¡°But never mind about him. He¡¯s gone and we¡¯re back to our great day, featuring lunch made by the most talented succubus this side of the realm.¡±

    ¡°Yes, thank you. While I would have accepted any excuse to escape his rampant jealously, I am quite looking forward to this.¡± She picks up one of the brownies and takes a bite, her features melting in pleasure. ¡°Oh my.¡±

    ¡°See why I wouldn¡¯t let him ruin this? Fina, don¡¯t be shy. I was kidding when I said I didn¡¯t bring enough.¡±

    The girl gulps, then looks to Cecilia quickly. ¡°But, um.¡±

    ¡°Hey, now. Technically, you¡¯re my guests. So, what I say goes.¡±

    ¡°If she insists to this degree, it would be rude to refuse further.¡± Cecilia extends her plate. ¡°Take one.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, mistress, Lady Tome.¡± Fina hesitantly picks up one of the desserts and takes a small bite. I swear, stars appear in her eyes as she gapes down at the treat. Her next bite is much bigger.

    ¡°Good?¡±

    She nods without looking up, the food overriding her manners. Excellent. This is what my happy life at the Hall should be, surrounded by pretty, happy women in the lap of luxury. Things are back on track.

    ¡°You must tell me your secret,¡± Cecilia sighs as she finishes her plate. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can live without these treats now.¡±

    ¡°Simple. Just bind yourself a capable elemental.¡± I reach up to stroke Geneva¡¯s cheek and she leans into the gesture like a cat, wearing a shy smile. Really disturbing how easily she can pretend to be harmless and docile. ¡°I know nothing about cooking but if you want to pluck a companion from the many realms, I¡¯m the woman to see.¡±

    ¡°A pity. I believe one needs the physical or mental affinity. Ah, but your companion proves a fire affinity will serve as well. Not that any apply to me. I am a Rosefield through and through, down to my earth affinity.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Tell me if I¡¯m being nosy, but was that alright? You seem pretty close to the prince.¡± And your family won¡¯t appreciate you alienating him, will they?

    ¡°Samuel has been a right boor lately. His thoughtless insinuations have caused many people a few problems, as I¡¯m sure you can guess. I heard you told him off about it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well. He should know better than to throw dirt on a woman¡¯s reputation.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°Quite. I have been telling my father that he is not the sturdiest horse to hitch a wagon to, but my words go unheeded. Hopefully, with this latest debacle, my father will reconsider the idea that my life can serve a greater purpose than that buffoon¡¯s mistress.¡±

    Alana pauses before taking a drink. ¡°You¡¯re singing a very different tune without any eyes to see you.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°One does not insult a prince to his face. Unless you¡¯re Lourianne.¡± Her smile is devious. ¡°But I assure you, this is no sudden change of heart. As you know, a lady of my standing does not have much freedom but I have always been one for¡­adventure.¡±

    She leans toward me, her smile mysterious. I¡¯d be lying if I said I was immune to it, an answering smile turning up my lips. Ah, Bell is right. She¡¯s trying to latch onto me, hoping I¡¯ll spirit her away from her duties as a Rosefield daughter.

    I wonder. Obviously, she can¡¯t move into my house but perhaps I can introduce her to the right people to send her on her way. If she¡¯s a decent caster¡ª

    My thoughts are interrupted by a shadow falling over me. I blink, looking up as Alana retakes her seat. Beside and slightly in front of me, face expressionless as she looks at Cecilia. ¡°Adventure should be sought after in the right places, Lady Rosefield.¡±

    I gape at her but she ignores me, completely engaged in her stare down with Cecilia.

    ¡°¡­I see.¡± Cecilia gracefully gets to her feet and Fina hastily follows. ¡°Thank you for the treat, Lourianne. I would love for us to speak again. Perhaps in my room?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± I murmur, still mired in confusion as she walks away. Once they are out of earshot, I look at Alana. ¡°What was¡ªow!¡±

    A hand snaps up to cover my forehead where she just flicked me. ¡°You¡¯re too easy, you damn pervert,¡± she snaps. ¡°I¡¯m starting to understand how you and Teacher work but that doesn¡¯t mean you need to drool after every woman who bats her eyes at you!¡±

    ¡°Are you jeal¡ªow! Stop flicking me!¡± Why do those slim fingers hurt so much? ¡°I know that,¡± I grumble as I rub my forehead. ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to get her into bed.¡±

    ¡°I saw the look you were giving her. You were thinking about something.¡±

    ¡°About if I could help. You know, point her in the right direction. Completely innocent.¡±

    ¡°That snake doesn¡¯t need your help, Lou, and won¡¯t thank you for it. Reminds me of my siblings.¡± Alana huffs. ¡°She was playing with you. I don¡¯t care if you see someone trailing her with dagger in hand, you shouldn¡¯t get involved with her type.¡±

    Oh, that is¡­kind of brutal. ¡°Have I ever told you how sexy you look when you go all ¡®protector¡¯ on me?¡± I say with a grin.

    She ignores me and turns to Geneva. ¡°And you. You¡¯re a succubus. Surely, you should have seen her game.¡±

    Geneva blinks. She looks down at me and I can guess what she wants without her speaking into my mind. She¡¯s asking for permission to drop her quiet, demure act. Alright, go for it.

    She grins and looks back to Alana. ¡°Oh, I saw through her clumsy attempts at seduction but there is no need to get involved. Lou would have chewed her up.¡± Her dark chuckles send a shiver down my spine. ¡°If she did worm her way into my summoner¡¯s bed, hoping for benefits, she¡¯d leave a begging, desperate mess no longer able to live without her touch. She¡¯d sign away her life for the pleasure, which is a fair price for her deception, I think.¡±

    I blink. Um, she¡¯s not wrong? Especially if I let my succubi have her. Just sounds incredibly ominous when you put it like that. Look at Alana¡¯s expression. I think she¡¯s reconsidering our friendship.

    ¡°She¡¯s exaggerating,¡± I say quickly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think she is,¡± Alana grunts. ¡°Suppose it¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re as harmless as you are.¡±

    ¡°Despite her vulgarity at times, Lou is far more of a gentleman than that tactless prince.¡±

    Aw, thanks.

    ¡°And might I say, I approve very much of your handling of the situation,¡± Geneva continues, her smile turning wicked. ¡°New women should know to show the due respect to older members of a harem. The girl¡¯s upbringing is clearly lacking.¡±

    Alana flushes, red showing from the tips of her ears to her neck. I¡¯m right there with her, spluttering with surprise as I try to form a rebuttal.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a part of her harem!¡± Alana hisses jabbing a finger at me. I tack on a ¡°Yeah!¡± that I finally manage to squeeze out in the face of her offense.

    ¡°Just because you don¡¯t sleep with her doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re not a part of the harem.¡± Geneva blinks at her innocently. ¡°Would it help if I simply referred to it as ¡®Lou¡¯s priorities¡¯?¡±

    My friend growls and gets to her feet, stomping away. I shake my head as I poke my elemental in the side. ¡°You trying to start problems?¡±

    ¡°Am I wrong, my summoner?¡±

    ¡°Huh? You can read my mind, of course you¡¯re not wrong.¡± Alana is infinitely higher on my list of priorities. If I have to leave Cecilia freezing outside in nothing but her unmentionables to satisfy my friend¡¯s suspicion, I¡¯m not opening the door. ¡°But you don¡¯t have to say it so bluntly.¡±

    ¡°You are not exactly subtle.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m the fool. I have a shroud of ¡®humor¡¯ around me so I can get away with it. You¡¯re just a little ball of temptation so it¡¯s a lot harder to shrug off coming from you.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s a good thing.¡±

    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t scare her away.¡± With a grunt, I rise off her lap and start gathering the boxes. Our lunch break will be ending soon, and Alana should have gained control over her embarrassment by now.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 43

    ¡°Lou,¡± Geneva says as we near the house. ¡°Maxine has returned. She appears to be distressed.¡±

    Don¡¯t even stop to ask what she means before I¡¯m running, eating up the distance to the front door. ¡°Bell!¡± I shout as I throw it open, eyes bouncing over the room.

    Distressed Maxine? Tough! What about my imp?

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    I scoop up the succubus, hugging her to my face and sighing in relief at the familiar feeling of her tail curling around my throat. ¡°Oh, thank the saints.¡± Damn it, Geneva. You could start with saying she¡¯s okay.

    [It would take more than the rabble of the city to harm me, Master Lou.]

    That¡¯s right. My favorite succubus may look like a cute, stunted goblin but on the inside, she¡¯s a virtue with a coefficient of over 700.

    Doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t worry about her.

    Assured my Bell is safe, I turn my attention to Maxine. She does look a little distressed, hunched over in the corner of a couch, both hands clutching a teacup. She¡¯s wearing that hideous cloak from before, but the hood is down. Her eyes are red and puffy, dry tear tracks on her cheeks.

    Earl comes out of the kitchen carrying a tea tray, followed by Kierra. She smiles as she sees me. ¡°Good. Earl¡¯s just refreshed the tea and Maxine has returned with news.¡±

    At the mention of her name, her head jerks up. She tries to smile as she looks at me, but it crumples and she goes back to staring into her cup.

    Starting to think something bad might have happened. Geneva, handle her, would you? Make sure she isn¡¯t about to shatter on me.

    [Of course, my summoner.]

    Bell is coming with me. Taking the opposite couch from Maxine, I settle Bell in my lap, Kierra dropping down beside me. I wait for Earl to serve us before asking, ¡°What happened?¡±

    Maxine swallows. Geneva raises a hand and begins to rub small circles on her back until her shoulders eventually relax. ¡°Um,¡± she starts hesitantly, voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I went back to find any evidence of what we were talking about. Like I said, the best evidence would be my cousin¡¯s account books. I waited until he left for an off-site meeting before¡­breaking into his study.¡±

    Geneva carefully removes the teacup from her lightly shaking fingers, setting it on the table. That reminds me of my own drink and I take a sip. Huh, not bad. He¡¯s got my preferences down, more sugar than milk, but the taste is a little lacking.

    ¡°The books were relatively easy to find. Bell broke the lock on the drawer immediately.¡± I give the imp a little rub along the base of her horns as she straightens up proudly. ¡°We left the room before opening them. Bell said the room had an enchantment. I didn¡¯t see anything but she said we had to leave. I thought...there¡¯s a restaurant owned by my family. Private rooms, security. We use places like it for business all the time. Stupid, thinking about it. It had to be one of the first places he looked.¡±

    She swallowed. ¡°As we were leaving, a man wearing a scarf over the lower half of his face approached us. He¡­had a knife and dragged me to an alley. He wanted the books. He would have killed me¡­¡± Her gaze moves to my imp before quickly darting away. ¡°Bell...there was so much blood and...¡± She swallows heavily and takes a deep breath, forcing the rest of the words out. ¡°We came straight here. I¡­haven¡¯t been able to sleep.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    She rubs her face and I feel a wave of pity for her. She¡¯s genuinely afraid for her life. Even when Samuel had an artifact pointed at me, I didn¡¯t fear for my life, only my convenience.

    ¡°Alright, alright. You¡¯re safe here.¡± It¡¯d take a flight of dragons to siege this house. ¡°Where¡¯re the books?¡±

    ¡°Miss Kierra had me put them in the study.¡±

    ¡°You can look at them later if you like,¡± Kierra adds over the rim of her cup. She holds it out and Earl is promptly at her side to refill it. ¡°Lots of numbers that mean nothing to me.¡±

    ¡°I doubt they¡¯ll mean much more to me but that¡¯s what interrogators are for.¡±

    ¡°Good that they¡¯ll finally be useful for once.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s head snaps up. ¡°You¡¯re going to hand the books over to the authorities?¡±

    I hold back the look I want to give her. ¡°Maxine. Those books may be evidence that implicates a conspiracy to entrap and exploit members of peerage. Of course, I¡¯m handing them over. Or more specifically, Kierra is. Remember this. You suspected your cousin, you came to Kierra, the strongest caster to you know for protection. I have nothing to do with this. Alright? Do not mention my name.¡±

    ¡°B-but what if they question me?¡± she asked. ¡°I can¡¯t hide the truth.¡±

    ¡°They only go diving into people¡¯s head when there isn¡¯t any physical evidence to prove the story. You have the accounts.¡± One might wonder why I am so knowledgeable about the law. Basic part of a noble¡¯s education. You have to know the rules to know the proper ways to bend them.

    ¡°They¡¯ll leverage those against your cousin to get him to squeal on his conspirators, and so on and so forth. The only reason someone might go poking around in your head is if your cousin names you as a conspirator and you deny it and even then, they¡¯re supposed to only look for the answer to their specific question. You¡¯ll be fine so don¡¯t mention my name.¡±

    I add a little menace to my tone but hey, this is important. I didn¡¯t go through all of this to be dragged into another mess but to clean one up.

    ¡°Okay, I won¡¯t mention your name b-but I need time. I have to write to my father.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t really something we should wait to reveal.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand. The entire Guiness family could be implicated, labeled traitors to the crown. The royal family has been looking for any excuse to curb my father''s influence. They¡¯ll use this as an opportunity! I have to warn him so he can prepare. Please!¡±

    At some point in her speech, she realizes that she can¡¯t stop me if I want to turn her cousin in right now and turns to pleading, looking at me with upturned eyes.

    Hm. Let¡¯s see. What¡¯s the worst that can happen if I hold off on this evidence for a day?

    Her cousin could run, never to be seen or heard from. He could warn his compatriots who would also flee the judgment of the crown. A few nameless hunters may escape but Marcus isn¡¯t going anywhere. He either gets hunted down, likely by his family desperate to cleanse themselves of treasonous rumors, or he takes his chances and tries to kill the prince. That might be the most extreme outcome.

    Is saving the prince worth abandoning Maxine and her family?

    ¡°One day.¡± The whole reason I decided to act was to stop any fallout affecting my daily life. As if I¡¯d value that prince. He can go die in a ditch for all I care. I consider Maxine a friend, loosely, and I definitely consider her to be useful. ¡°No more, otherwise they might accuse us of cooperating with them.¡±

    It¡¯s a little sad how relieved she looks. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°There should be paper and something to write with in the study. And don¡¯t worry about accommodations, you can stay with us until this is over.¡±

    ¡°Thank you so much. My father will surely appreciate this.¡± She pushes up onto shaky legs. ¡°I¡¯ll go¡­do that.¡±

    Maxine stumbles off toward the study. ¡°What¡¯s up with her?¡± I ask once she¡¯s gone.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [The girl did not take the murder of our pursuer well. If she had lingered any longer on her knees to empty her stomach, I would have needed to expose my true nature to carry her away.]

    ¡°Oh.¡± Is that normal?

    [More common than not, Master Lou.]

    Huh. I remember watching people die around me when I was captured by Crowley Cain. All of us bleeding out to power his novice summoning attempt. I never thought about it but all of them died, didn¡¯t they?

    I don¡¯t feel any horror at the thought. Seeing them stabbed didn¡¯t fill me with revulsion. Granted, I had more important concerns at the time.

    [You have a less fragile mind and much greater tolerance for violence.]

    ¡°Ah well." No need to dwell on what some might consider a worrying lack of empathy. "All of this mess is going to be behind us and we can focus on more important things.¡± I lift Bell up to my face. ¡°You did a great job, Bell! That¡¯s my favorite virtue!¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [It is my pleasure to serve, Master Lou.]

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 44

    I am in one of Kierra¡¯s personal hells. This time, it¡¯s endurance training. Alana and I stripped off our normal practice garbs and were given thin linen substitutes before being tied to wooden posts. Her helpers are currently hitting our abs with flat, wooden clubs that vaguely resemble oars, and not gently either.

    Apparently, this is supposed to make our muscles stronger. Personally, I think my wife has skipped all the pretense and is just outright beating us, but it¡¯s difficult to argue the point with my hands tied over my head. No point asking the acolytes in charge of the exercise for leniency. I have no clue what she¡¯s done to them but Kierra has her helpers firmly under her thumb.

    Alana has been shooting me death glares for several minutes, teeth grit and eyes blazing. I feel a little bad. This is a bit too harsh a fate for losing a drinking contest. She¡¯s benefiting from this, more than she knows, but that won¡¯t stop her from hating me.

    Maybe I should get her something nice.

    An explosion of sound distracts me from my thoughts on possible presents. I look into the distance, squinting as I try to catch a glimpse of the cause, but am promptly distracted by the next hit to the stomach.

    Oi, come on! You people are too dedicated!

    Luckily, the second echoing boom catches everyone¡¯s attention, as it¡¯s much closer. Again, I try to see the cause and this time, I can make out two dark shapes in the distance, rapidly approaching the field. Stupid crowd. If there weren¡¯t so many witnesses about, I¡¯d swap my eyes out but I have to wait like everyone else.

    To my surprise, the shapes quickly resolve into people and I recognize the one in the lead. Marcus is sprinting over the grass for all he¡¯s worth, his flailing limbs and torn clothes speaking to his desperation. Behind him is Samuel, sword drawn.

    ¡°Traitor!¡± the prince shouts. He swings his sword and the enchantment along the blade lights up.

    Thanks to the shouted warning, Marcus throws himself forward. I can¡¯t see the attack but the effects are big enough for everyone to see. A huge crater forms on the ground, quickly obscured by a cloud of dust that the prince comes charging out of.

    His likely ex-manservant has already scrambled to his feet. His head whips back and forth before focusing on our class. Is he¡ªthe bastard is! He¡¯s running toward us, faster than before.

    Don¡¯t get us involved in your mess! Ugh, this is the worse time to be bound. ¡°Hey!¡± I shout at one of Kierra¡¯s helpers who is standing frozen like the rest of the class. ¡°Get us down from here!¡± I bark, yanking at the rope keeping me in place.

    I sneer when he hesitates. Seriously, I have to ask what my wife is doing to these boys. ¡°Whatever you think she¡¯s going to do for untying us, I promise you, letting her wife get hit by whatever that was is a lot worse!¡±

    That gets him moving. Pulling a knife from his belt, he cuts the ropes over my wrists. Alana is next and she doesn¡¯t stop to thank him before running to where her armor and sword are.

    ¡°How annoying,¡± Kierra says, coming to stand beside me as I watch them come closer. ¡°I¡¯m quite disappointed in the Hall¡¯s security.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me.¡± It¡¯d be great if an instructor could come floating down when you really need them rather than when they want to ruin your life.

    ¡°And their instruction is clearly lacking. He must have passed countless casters to go from the Center Hall to us. Someone should have already intervened.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not surprising. That¡¯s a prince, you know.¡± I wouldn¡¯t get involved. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s here.¡±

    Marcus reaches the class, slowing down as he makes for Kierra. ¡°Help, please!¡± he gasps, sweat pouring down the side of his face. ¡°The prince has gone insane!¡±

    Kierra sighs. She snaps her fingers twice and my previous tormentors appear at her side. He gives them a suspicious glance and she smiles. ¡°Your caution is deserved. I know exactly why the prince might want your head so don¡¯t think you¡¯ll get any pity. Sit down, hands on your head, and wait quietly. I¡¯ll guarantee you¡¯ll live long enough to face judgment.¡±

    He swallows heavily. A glance over his shoulder at the quickly approaching prince and his shoulders sag. With a sigh, he drops to the grass, slowly putting his hands on his head. At the same time, Alana arrives, sword drawn.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she asks.

    I wave away her concern. ¡°Just a prince throwing a tantrum.¡± Really, what is he thinking? Going around trying to smite someone. Doesn¡¯t he understand that Marcus is already guaranteed a fate worse than death? This ridiculous posturing is only troubling others.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve finally accepted your fate!¡± the prince huffs as he slides to a stop at the edge of the field. His eyes are glued to his enemy at first but eventually, he looks up, noticing the rest of us. He gaze sharpens as it lands on me then bounces to Kierra. ¡°¡­I see.¡±

    Hm? What¡¯s with that tone? Why are you looking at me like that?

    ¡°How could I have been so blind? It all makes sense now.¡± The crazy bastard levels his sword¡­at me. ¡°This is why you tried to get close to me and used that disgusting magic on Cecilia. You are part of his plot!¡±

    ¡­eh?

    No, no, no! How did you jump to that conclusion? It¡¯s the exact opposite!

    ¡°I suggest you put your toy down, little prince,¡± Kierra says, her voice not reflecting an ounce of worry. ¡°Unsanctioned violence is strictly prohibited by the Hall. Continue and there will be no one to save you from your own folly.¡± She takes a step toward him.

    ¡°Stay back!¡± He raises his sword toward her. ¡°Filthy knife-eared freak! I wondered how that trash got the courage to betray the kingdom. It was your kind plotting against my family.¡± He suddenly straightens up. ¡°Do you mean to start a war!?¡±

    Ah, he¡¯s lost it. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the shock of betrayal or fear, but he¡¯s slipping into hysteria. This is when someone very unthreatening with a nice, soft voice calms him down, wraps him in a fluffy blanket, and tells him the monsters aren¡¯t real.

    Instead, he has my wife and her mocking smile, daring him to do something he will undoubtedly regret.

    ¡°You¡¯ll pay for this. You and all those green beasts!¡±

    ¡°Watch it!¡± I snap. There¡¯s only so much someone can take.

    They turn to me, expressions opposite. Kierra is wearing her bloodthirsty smile which makes my stomach twist with dread while the prince¡¯s sneer pisses me off.

    ¡°This is good timing.¡± Kierra turns her back on the prince, which clearly offends him but at the same time, his shoulders relax at the de-escalation. She walks over, towering over me. ¡°I was just talking with the pet that you need practical experience. Originally, we would have waited for your initiate year to end and taken you on a proper hunt but why waste a golden opportunity.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean¡­¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± She looks over her shoulder to Samuel, fidgeting as his panic wars with the last shreds of his good sense. ¡°He should make a decent opponent. And what better way to leave behind your childish fear.¡±

    ¡°Just because it¡¯s been ingrained since childhood doesn¡¯t make my fears childish,¡± I hiss. ¡°Besides, wouldn¡¯t it be better for you to handle this? As an instructor, you have all the justification you need.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can goad him into attacking first and you¡¯ll have similar justification.¡±

    Our eyes meet and we wage a silent war. The weight of my exasperation is crushing and I follow up with a combo of pleading and reason but Kierra¡¯s defense of shamelessness is too tough, her counter of visible excitement and a heated leer too strong. ¡°If I can talk him down, I don¡¯t have to fight.¡±

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    ¡°Agreed.¡±

    Shoulders heaving with a defeated sigh, I move past her.

    ¡°Lou!?¡±

    I wave Alana down. She doesn¡¯t need to get involved in this.

    With a clear target, the prince stops panicking and refocuses, his grip on his weapon tightening. I hold up my hands. ¡°I need you to calm down and listen to me. I have nothing against you. I have nothing to do with this.¡±

    ¡°Liar!¡±

    ¡°Come on. Did you ever hear about me before the Pottoculli mess? I don¡¯t do politics. I don¡¯t care.¡± About you or him or any stupid plots. I got involved to keep you out of my life.

    ¡°¡­if you have nothing to do with this, then you will go before an interrogator.¡±

    ¡°Alright, sure.¡± Cheh. If the prince goes around accusing me of treason, I¡¯ll probably have to do so anyway. They¡¯re going to be thorough with this mess. Maybe, if I¡¯m lucky, they¡¯ll hand me off to Miss Talia since I¡¯m a member of the Hall.

    ¡°Hand over the traitor.¡±

    I look over my shoulder, meeting Marcus¡¯ frantic look. Then I look toward my wife. More silent communication ensues. My narrowed eyes convey how happy I am to oblige while her curious tilt of the head asks if I¡¯m sure. My glare evolves into a scowl and she shrugs, smile gaining a mocking edge.

    Yeah, I know I can¡¯t. There¡¯s no law against it but it wouldn¡¯t look good. Some might dare to say I was complicit in murder.

    ¡°Can¡¯t do that,¡± I say through grit teeth. ¡°Why do you have to kill him? If he¡¯s done something wrong, the Hall will find out and bring him to justice.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not good enough. That¡­filth. He stood next to me, shared my confidence, indulged in my favor. And all the while, he was plotting against me. Mocking me. He¡¯s made me look like a buffoon!¡±

    Wait.

    ¡°I treated him well! Better than any servant dares to dream of. And he repays me with treachery. How can I let this blight on my honor stand? I can only be satisfied when I have personally removed his head from his shoulders!¡±

    My eyes close with¡­something. I can¡¯t put a word to this feeling.

    If I¡¯ve got this right, this idiot has been running amok, throwing around deadly spells, breaking several laws, and pointed a weapon at us because¡­Marcus made him look bad? Because he was exposed for the idiot that he is and it¡­hurt his feelings?

    ¡­

    I hate royals.

    ¡°I¡¯m not moving,¡± I say tersely. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid and walk away.¡±

    ¡°To think I started to believe your treachery.¡± Samuel sneers. ¡°Of course you don¡¯t want give up your compatriot. I will take your actions as an admission of guilt.¡±

    I don¡¯t bother responding, already building my first spell.

    Being out in the open, I¡¯m limited with what I can do. There¡¯s of course, my fire affinity and wind can be discrete. As that¡¯s not one of Geneva¡¯s affinities, it¡¯s not an area I¡¯ve focused on, but it should be good enough. The physical affinity would be nice but with my natural shapeshifting abilities and Kierra¡¯s training, we decided not to focus on offensive spells.

    My greatest asset is undoubtedly this body of mine. Not my base form, but this body trained and melded by my wife. I¡¯ve rarely had a chance to show off what I can do. Maybe that¡¯s why Kierra is pushing me at this guy.

    ¡°My prince!¡±

    My head snaps to the side to see Browyn running toward us. The prince takes the chance to attack. I see him, of course, but he made himself impossible to ignore with his bellowing war cry.

    It¡¯s laughably easy to dodge him, step forward, and launch a blow to his unprotected side. My fist meets resistance in the form of swirling water. A defensive spell? Pretty good but I¡¯m a lot stronger than I look.

    The water drains most of the momentum from my blow before I make contact. Still hear an ¡°oof¡± as the prince stumbles back.

    I don¡¯t give him the chance to recover as I grab his wrist and twist. The sword drops from his hand but I¡¯m forced to let go a moment later as a spike of earth rises from the ground, backpedaling.

    With a twitch of his fingers and a quick rise of earth, Samuel launches the sword into the air and grabs it by the hilt. The runes along it light up as he slashes forward. I slot the last variables into the spell I¡¯ve been holding.

    Two spells. The first spell, Flame Shell, in its simplest form, coats the caster in flames. Geneva showed me how to properly alter and balance the intensity, volume, and distance variables to push it outwards in a dome, though stretching it too far is hell on mana. It¡¯s considered a gag spell, mainly used for surprising pickpockets as flames weren¡¯t very good at protecting anything. They are, however, flashy.

    The second spell, Wind Buffer, I release right after. A spell holds the wind in front of me still, creating a barrier. Still lost in the specifics of how it works but if I pour a good chunk of my coefficient into it, it¡¯s better than a knight¡¯s shield.

    Plus, it should be extra effective against the prince¡¯s toy. Since I didn¡¯t see anything when he used it on his fleeing manservant, it has to be a wind enchantment.

    My ears tingle from the screaming wind as he releases the attack, my Flame Shell appearing at the same time. His attack blows the flimsy spell away but meets more stout resistance from the Wind Buffer. Our spells cancel each other and tear up the ground around me, billowing dust making my eyes water.

    I think I hear someone call out to me but there¡¯s no time to focus on that. I dash out of the dust cloud, blinking away tears. Samuel is more a blob than a man but it¡¯s good enough. I see a blob arm wielding a longer blob and aim for it, throwing a simple Flame Arrow spell, a staple of any fire caster.

    A shield of swirling water appears to block it. Unfortunately for the prince, it also hides me as I crouch, dashing toward him.

    My hand reaches through the water, drawing a yelp as I grab him across the face and shove him forward. He again tries his earth spikes to force me away but I¡¯m ready this time, jumping toward him. My full weight slams into him, sending us both to the ground.

    I can end this right now. My grip hasn¡¯t loosened a bit and, though I¡¯m feeling a bit strained, I¡¯ve got enough to burn his face off. Too bad this isn¡¯t a fight to the death. ¡°Surrender!¡±

    ¡°Never!¡± He tries to raise his toy, as if I¡¯m stupid enough to let him. I grab his wrist again but instead of squeezing, I twist. There¡¯s a sharp crack of his bone snapping, followed by his howl of pain, but the prince surprises me.

    I see the earth swirling around his opposite arm before he raises a fist covered in stone, slamming it into my side.

    It feels like Kierra tickling me.

    ¡°You hit worse than a woman,¡± I sneer, releasing his wrist. Whatever he¡¯s going to respond with is replaced by choking as I punch him in the throat. And with him under my power, I feel all my frustration for this whole affair bubbling up. It¡¯s entirely unnecessary but I punch him in the gut. His soft gut that hasn¡¯t gone through a fraction of my ordeals and yet thinks it¡¯s better than me.

    ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you walk away?¡± I growl as I hit him again. He hits me again with his little rock fist. Stone is harder than skin but it means crap all if you can¡¯t put any strength behind it. Like my blows, that make him groan in pain as I hammer his vulnerable body. ¡°Stop causing me trouble, dammit! Just. Stop. Fucking! Struggling!¡±

    After over a dozen blows, he goes limp. His arm falls to the ground, the useless dirt sliding off into a loose mound. I hit him once more to be sure, grunting in satisfaction when he whimpers. Like a beaten dog.

    I slowly get off him and he curls up, arms over his side with his teeth grit. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± I grumble, grabbing his sword. Kierra will fix him right up.

    I glance around and take in an interesting scene. Standing off to the side is a red-faced Browyn, his eyes tight as he stares at the fallen prince, one hand on the hilt of his sword. However, he can¡¯t rush forward because Alana is standing in his way, tense and ready to cut him down if he tries. Brave girl, what are you doing challenging him? If he¡¯s the bodyguard of a prince, his skill must be exceptional.

    I know she alone isn¡¯t holding him back. No doubt he can feel Kierra, who is standing protectively in front of her vic¡ªer, students, watching the whole show. If he draws that sword, he¡¯s just as wrong as Samuel and she¡¯ll take him down in an instant.

    ¡°Relax!¡± I shout, drawing all eyes to me as I wave the sword over my head. Except Alana. She doesn¡¯t take her eyes off the potential threat.

    I reach down and grab Samuel by the collar, ignoring his groans and curses as I haul him to his feet. ¡°The prince is fine,¡± I shout to Browyn as I drag said prince over to my wife. I throw him towards her and she catches him¡­also by his collar. We¡¯re ruining that shirt.

    He lets out a sigh of relief as she places a hand on his head, her healing easing his unformed bruises and aches. She drops him to the ground. ¡°Sit still or I will be the one to beat you this time.¡±

    He swears as he sits up but remains where he is. Looks like all the fight has gone out of him. Me holding his precious sword likely isn¡¯t helping. He never attacked without it so I¡¯m guessing he isn¡¯t confident in his offensive abilities.

    His spellcasting isn¡¯t bad at all. I¡¯m fast, faster than full-fledged knights if I had to wager. No other initiate could have gotten to him in the small moment after he released that wind spell, so I can understand why I caught him off guard. The prince has some skill, I¡¯ll give him that.

    Browyn approaches with a still tense Alana at his shoulder. He crouches next to the prince but Samuel promptly shoves him away. The young bodyguard isn¡¯t discouraged, standing at Samuel¡¯s back, looking far more relieved with his charge in one piece and no longer being pummeled into the dirt.

    Alana gives him one more probing look before coming to stand by me. ¡°You alright?¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± I extend the sword toward her. ¡°Want it?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t joke,¡± she hisses.

    I was kind of serious? Ah, well. I hold it out to Kierra who takes it, giving it a quick twirl. ¡°Where¡¯s a baldie when you need him?¡± I grumble, glaring at the empty sky.

    ¡°Instructors of the Hall don¡¯t have much free time, Lou,¡± Kierra says, admiring the blade.

    ¡°Liar. You have all the time in the world.¡±

    ¡°I am sure you can agree that I am a deviation from normal practices. Hand me its scabbard?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I walk over to Samuel and raise a brow. The prince glares at me, red-faced, but hands it over. His scowl deepens as I gesture for him to hand over the belt as well, but he obeys.

    I hand them to my wife, getting a kiss for my efforts. She sheathes the blade before tying it to her waist. I wonder if they¡¯ll let her keep it. She can talk fast when she wants to.

    ¡°Someone tie the boy up,¡± Kierra says breezily. ¡°Prince, don¡¯t cause trouble, hm? Lest you want to share the same fate. Little knight, keep your charge under control this time.¡± She gives everyone a smile as her helpers advance on Marcus. ¡°Lou, Alana, back to your lessons.¡±

    I gape at her. ¡°Really? After all that?¡±

    ¡°It was hardly a matter of consequence.¡±

    Being attacked by a hysteric prince is hardly a matter of consequence? I¡¯m sure this is going to come back to bite us in the rear but I admit it was very satisfying.

    Ah, that¡¯s the end to this whole mess, isn¡¯t it?

    This time, for sure.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 45

    It¡¯s over, but I¡¯m not taking any chances. Who knows? A dragon could swoop down from the sky and Marcus could escape in the chaos. I¡¯m sure the prince will find a way to blame me for anything that goes wrong.

    Kierra gives in to my paranoia and sends one of her helpers to report the incident. Someone should be around shortly to collect the troublemakers. Lucky me, thanks to my performance, I get to relax. Alana as well, but she is still nervous after the sudden violence, pacing close to the ¡°prisoners¡± while keeping a wary eye on Browyn. The prince remains sullen. A hand occasionally rubs his side, remembering his short beating.

    Marcus is strangely calm, seated with his back straight and chin raised. Proud before his execution. It¡¯s so strange I find my interest peaked and wander over. ¡°Thinking good thoughts?¡±

    He briefly glances toward me before he scoffs. ¡°Go away.¡±

    ¡°Humor me. This may be my only chance to talk to a royal killer. Well, a potential one anyway. Come on, I want to know what you were thinking.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Try me. I doubt anyone else is going to stop to ask about your feelings before they remove your head.¡±

    He looks back at me and his gaze lingers. I give him what I hope is a friendly smile.

    ¡°My whole life¡­I¡¯ve been told I was worthless,¡± he starts slowly. ¡°Not in words, of course. For nobles, it is always what they don¡¯t say you must pay attention to. My father is a rich and powerful man. An important man. For his children, he is an immovable pillar of tradition and expectation. But those expectations were considerably lacking when it came to me.

    ¡°My two elder brothers received several tutors, their days were scheduled to the last minute. My sisters were hardly better off in the care of my aunts. As for me¡­nothing. My tutors weren¡¯t strict and left me plenty of time to play, I was given many toys, and took frequent trips into the city.¡±

    I snort. ¡°You asshole. Are you complaining about your luxurious childhood?¡± Apologize to all the underprivileged children in the world. ¡°I feel so bad for you.¡±

    He glares at me. Absolutely terrifying, really. ¡°There is a saying. The battered tool is more loved than the shining spare. My brothers¡¯ lives were difficult. Some might call it cruel, as my father was not forgiving when they failed to meet his expectations. But they had purpose. For high nobles, that is as close as it comes to love. Me? I lived as a Ferraro son is expected to but there was nothing beyond it.¡±

    His eyes are narrowed, lips tight as he stares at the ground. ¡°I tried. With the hopeful naivete of a child, I thought if I proved myself worthy of his attention, my father would take notice. I listened by the door when my brothers sat with their tutors, committing their lessons to memory. I would mumble each fact a dozen times to make sure I had it word for word. So at dinner, when my father asked my brothers what they learned that day, I could jump in and spout the answers. Do you know what he did?

    ¡°He ignoredme. He gave me this hateful look, as if a dog had dressed in his son¡¯s clothes and sat at his table. My excitement was instantly cowled as I shrank into my seat. I told myself that it was because I had spoken out of turn. From then on, I did everything properly, became a model child. He spared me his harsh words but I was less than air to him. Eventually, I stopped¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, for saints¡¯ sake, would you get on with it?¡± I huff. He glares at me but the indignation slides off my shrugging shoulders. ¡°I want to know about what the prince did that was so bad that you¡¯d ruin your life to kill him, not your daddy issues. Get to the good stuff.¡±

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    ¡°Heartless creature. Why would you ask if you won¡¯t listen in full?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right, I shouldn¡¯t have asked. Don¡¯t know why I bothered when I have the answer. No one who commits treason is right in the head.¡±

    ¡°I am not crazy!¡± Marcus tries to surge to his feet but one of Kierra¡¯ helpers is there with a heavy hand on his shoulder. He scowls at me. ¡°Imagine this, you arrogant bitch. Imagine being sold away, no, gifted, like an animal. To be presented to a boy with a raised chin and that damn silver hair and be told, this is your master. Some brat¡¯s words become your law, his mood determines your fortune. Imagine the fall from being a proud son of a marquis to nothing more than a servant.¡±

    Yeah, that sounds terrible. ¡°I couldn¡¯t stand it, sure. So, why not leave? You chose the most extreme option.¡±

    ¡°Leave?¡± Marcus scoffs. ¡°Who dares claim they are too good to serve the crown? Who dares to reject the honor of licking His Highness¡¯ heels?¡±

    ¡°Run. Go find some dungeon town and disappear.¡±

    ¡°And what? Spend my life crawling through those monster pits? Become a laborer? Stand on sore feet behind a store counter with a fake smile, a servant to the whole city? I didn¡¯t want any kind of life. I wanted the life owed to me, the life of a Ferraro son! Even if my father never looked at me, I could have made something of myself! But because of him¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright, take a deep breath.¡± His entire face is red with restrained fury and his voice is steadily getting louder. Samuel glanced over but quickly turned away with a scowl. Last thing I want is the two of them getting into something, as both have shown poor impulse control.

    ¡°How does assassinating him get you that life? You¡¯re dead.¡±

    ¡°My life was already over. Father would never allow me to reject my servitude. No matter where I went or tried to accomplish, his agents would make sure I failed and lived a miserable life in retaliation.¡± He sighs deeply. ¡°I doubted my chances getting out alive. I simply wanted to take him with me.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± When he says it like that, I can feel the slightest amount of empathy. Saints know what I would have done if my father tried to ¡®sell me off¡¯. It would have happened eventually and I had plans of running away myself, but I never worried about being tracked down. He¡¯s a little pitiful.

    ¡°The things I had to endure at that boy¡¯s behest. Playing to his inflated ego. Listening to his endless diatribes about the first prince, unquestionably his better in every way, and his useless ambitions for the throne. Maintaining my composure as he rambles about his ridiculous crush, watching a damn prince pine after a single woman. If he had an inkling of how to wield his power, women would throw themselves¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright, I don¡¯t want to hear about that. There¡¯s really nothing else?¡±

    ¡°What do you want me to say?¡±

    I don¡¯t have anything specific but I was expecting more. Yes, being a servant isn¡¯t fun or glamorous, but I would never throw away my life because I had to cater to a brat.

    Where¡¯s the trauma? Is the prince a closet sadist who whipped the skin off your back for fun? Did he sell you to perverts for favors? Did he make you eat nothing but pickled vegetables?

    I have to say, I¡¯m disappointed. Just another self-absorbed noble throwing a tantrum. ¡°You know what, Marcus, I agree with your father.¡± I smile as he flinches, staring up at me with wide eyes. ¡°You are worthless. He gives you a place in the palace, by the side of the prince, and the only thing you can do is gripe about it.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    ¡°You berate Samuel for wasting his opportunities. Well, why didn¡¯t you show him what to do?¡± Where would I be if Kierra took one look at my floundering self in the Enchanted Forest and concluded I wasn¡¯t worth the time? All of my potential, flushed down the drain.

    ¡°Who are you to judge me?¡± he spits out. ¡°A daughter from a low noble house. Even as a servant, I¡¯m worth a hundred of you. Your entire life isn¡¯t enough to touch my heels.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Too bad you¡¯ll never know if you¡¯re right. Dead men don¡¯t get to see tomorrow.¡± I crouch down, making our eyes level. ¡°Someone you think is so far beneath you is going to live a long, happy life, enjoying all the wealth and power you wished you could have, while worms eat your rotting corpse. You¡¯ll be lucky if your father doesn¡¯t strike your name from the family tree. You won¡¯t just be buried, you¡¯ll be forgotten, like you never existed.¡±

    I grin at his pale face, slapping his cheek playfully before standing up. Serves him right. Pity? Don¡¯t joke. I still remember what this bastard did. I¡¯ll show up at his execution just to laugh as the executioner raises his axe.

    You¡¯re lucky to get off with a death this light. If it were up to me, I¡¯d feed you piece by piece to the dogs. Over the course of several months that you¡¯d spend chained in a dark, dank basement where you can hear them baying for your blood throughout the night.

    And that¡¯s what I can think of without any time to plan.

    I hope the saints¡¯ light never reaches your soul. Spend a short eternity in the Abyss and hope you¡¯re a beautiful girl in your next life. Maybe then I¡¯ll have pity for you.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 46

    Lady Filagree descends onto the field in a roar of scarlet flames that causes sweat to break out on my brow, flanked by five other fire casters. She does not look happy, eyes narrowed and lips curled in a fierce scowl. Her red robe is splayed open, revealing dark armor covering her upper chest and lower legs. Her red hair is tied back rather than free-flowing, a strange black helmet atop it.

    Combat instructor, indeed.

    The ground trembles as they land with force, the redhead stomping forward. Her eyes sweep the crowd before focusing on the prince, but she disregards him quickly. The next victim of her glare is Marcus. Seeing the herald of his judgment, he curls into himself as much as he can, as if his desire to disappear can shield him.

    ¡°Grab the boys,¡± she barks at who I¡¯m guessing are her subordinates? Students? Soldiers? They rush forward, securing both Marcus and the prince, who immediately begins to gripe and is ignored. ¡°I heard there was a fight?¡±

    ¡°Mm,¡± Kierra says. She looks toward me and Lady Filagree¡¯s gaze follows. ¡°My wife and the prince had a disagreement when he pointed a weapon at us.¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome.¡± Her gaze is not at all friendly as she looks to me. ¡°Most can go their entire time at the Hall without incident, yet this is the second time in as much as a week for you.¡±

    ¡°Neither of which was my fault, I might point out,¡± I say, feeling a hint of indignation rise. Do you think I enjoy being in these messes? I don¡¯t!

    ¡°Hmph. You¡¯re coming along. Anyone else involved in this?¡±

    ¡°Myself, I suppose.¡±

    I glance to Alana who takes several steps backward. Technically, I suppose she isn¡¯t involved since neither she nor Browyn drew their weapons. No need to drag her into it.

    Lady Filagree sighs. ¡°Normally, having an instructor as an impartial witness would make this mess a whole lot easier¡­¡± She glares at me. Again, not my fault! ¡°For all of our sakes, this better be clean.¡±

    -

    It¡¯s a familiar scene as I find myself once again seated in the grandmaster¡¯s office. Kierra is seated beside me, Dunwayne is behind his desk, and Lady Filagree stands off to the side, watching us with clear annoyance. The troublemakers get to stand at the back of the room, under the eyes of the fire casters.

    The casual smile and ease from my previous visit are absent from Dunwayne¡¯s face. His stiff features give off an almost physical pressure, making the young men hunch their shoulders and stare at the floor. The amazing thing is he isn¡¯t angry. It¡¯s more grandfatherly disappointment and it makes the two enemies who¡¯ve been giving me so much grief resemble scolded children.

    ¡°This is an upsetting circumstance,¡± Dunwayne said, his voice echoing despite speaking at a normal volume. ¡°Our attendees are expected to leave their titles behind but I must say I find it especially disappointing that our kingdom¡¯s elite, our future leaders¡­¡± He pauses dramatically to look at the prince. Samuel looks like he wants to sink into the floor. ¡°Would be involved in something so foolish. Prince Samuel.¡±

    Having been addressed directly, his head reluctantly comes up.

    ¡°We are still examining the evidence. If our conclusion is correct, you have plenty of reason to be angry with Mr. Ferraro. However, you are an acolyte of the Hall. Prince or not, the rules still apply and you can expect the proper repercussions.¡±

    Samuel¡¯s mouth opens. For a moment, I think the crazy bastard is about to argue with the Grandmaster of the Hall. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, his good sense prevails and his mouth closes with an audible click.

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    ¡°Good. Please head back first. Alyssa.¡±

    ¡°You, make sure the prince returns to his quarters safely,¡± Lady Filagree says, gesturing to one of her minions. Her tone is full of so much propriety it turns over into sarcasm, making it clear the escort is his babysitter. Samuel¡¯s face is sour as the man opens the door and follows him out.

    ¡°Now, Mr. Ferraro.¡±

    Marcus flinches as Dunwayne¡¯s attention turns to him.

    ¡°A much more serious accusation has been levied against you, young man. As you are still an acolyte of the Hall, this investigation falls under my purview. We will be cooperating with the authorities of Quest to investigate your connection with hunter guilds suspected of selling escort services under false pretenses. Cooperate and this need not be unpleasant.¡±

    Marcus relaxes. Ah, right. They don¡¯t know the extent of his involvement, do they? Yes, the most they have is Marcus sharing communication with one of those shady guilds, maybe some involvement with Maxine¡¯s corrupt cousin.

    Hold on, then. Why was Prince Samuel trying to kill him? Bell?

    ¡°Coo!¡± my imp says from her place on my lap.

    ¡°Pardon me,¡± I say. ¡°Hate to interrupt but I would like to know why I was fighting for my life less than an hour ago?¡±

    ¡°Hoh?¡± Dunwayne turns to me and his stern demeanor softens as the corner of his lips turn up. ¡°I would have expected you to know, Lady Tome. Your startling ability to find trouble aside, Miss Kierra is the one who brought the accounts to us.¡±

    Marcus¡¯ head snaps to me. I ignore him. ¡°Ah, yes. Maxine Guiness is an acquaintance and came barreling into our home in a fluster.¡± I shrug my shoulders. ¡°She seemed preoccupied with some books with numbers and notations.¡± I scoff. ¡°I deal with enough of that in casting. What, did things turn deadly after a bender spending the prince¡¯s gold?¡±

    [Master Lou, it would seem Aurelius came by to ask the prince a few initial questions. Once he departed, Marcus figured that the game was up and attempted to kill the prince. He is the inferior combatant and was easily stopped. He attempted to flee and the rest, we know.]

    ¡°We suspect him of a crime far more serious but such is a matter for the crown. You should focus on the matter concerning yourself.¡± Dunwayne is still smiling but his eyes are narrowed. ¡°While you were¡­¡± He chuckles. ¡°Defending yourself, unsanctioned violence is still prohibited by the Hall.¡±

    I grimace. I guess what they say is true. Saints are the most unfortunate. Heroes attract tragedy. This is what I get for trying to do a good thing. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°No need to be nervous. Incidents like these are fairly regular and there is a system in place to handle minor infractions. Ally?¡±

    ¡°I think a stint in the Sanctuary will be good for her.¡± She sneers at me.

    ¡°The Sanctuary. Good, good. I know Miss Kierra has been building contacts with our tamers. Excellent. Then, Lady Tome, you¡¯ll be sacrificing your next three Restdays for the good of the Hall. In the future, please keep in mind there is a proper way to handle disputes.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± I cut my eyes to Kierra. Deviant, I wouldn¡¯t be in this position if it weren¡¯t for you. And you have the audacity to smile at me.

    ¡°Good. Miss Kierra.¡± His smile widens. ¡°Ally was just about to liaison with the Quest authorities to bring in a few hunters in for questioning. I don¡¯t suppose you would like to join?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be delighted.¡± Kierra never takes her eyes off me. Her brows raise in question and I fervently shake my head. Stop getting me involved in unnecessary things! ¡°Keep an eye on Max, Lou. We don¡¯t know who is involved in this mess and it would be unfortunate if something happened to an important witness before the Ferraro boy can put on trial.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Phew. You had me worried.

    ¡°If we¡¯re going, we should go,¡± Lady Filagree says with impatience. She reaches up and pulls down the visor of her helmet, a shiny black material covering her eyes, and stomps toward the door. ¡°I want to grab the rats before they have a chance to scurry into their holes.¡±

    ¡°That is a pain, isn¡¯t it?¡± Kierra gets to her feet, fingers trailing the back of my neck as she follows the instructor.

    Leaving me alone with Dunwayne.

    Oh, wow. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I¡¯m sure there are casters who dream about having a moment alone with the legendary Harvest Hero. I think I might have dreamed of it too. When you imagine a scenario like this, you know exactly what you want to say, a million questions you¡¯d want to ask. But in the moment, with his upturned eyes watching me with a hint of amusement, I can¡¯t think of anything that doesn¡¯t sound monumentally stupid.

    ¡°I¡¯ll, ah, go. Got classes,¡± I murmur, jerkily getting to my feet and clutching Bell tightly.

    ¡°Have a good day, Lady Tome.¡±

    ¡°Yes, um, thanks. You too.¡± I just manage to stop myself from bowing as I hastily escape from the room, ignoring my embarrassed flush as Bell snickers in my mind.

 Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 47

    It¡¯s finally over.

    This time, for sure. Definitely.

    It¡¯s been several days since Kierra slipped those account books to the Hall. Together with Lady Filagree, they descended on Quest like a natural disaster. I heard the flames could be seen all the way from the Grand Market. The Hall is a long way from the ground. I don¡¯t want to imagine what hell those poor hunters experienced.

    Maxine is home, her cousin having been arrested and detained for questioning. The poor man might be innocent, having simply been swayed into moving money to gain the favor of a prince. If he is, I feel for him. The crown is going to want to sweep this mess up and burn the ashes. He¡¯ll be buried with the rest of them for even a hint of involvement, I¡¯m sure. More so if the nobles are plotting against the Guiness family.

    My mild worry prompted me to send Bell to check up on her. Poor girl couldn¡¯t fall asleep the first night she returned home. Fortunately or unfortunately, with the impromptu absence of its manager, the Guiness store was in dire need of direction and as the only Guiness available, all the responsibility fell on Maxine¡¯s narrow shoulders. A very hefty weight that involves managing a store in one of the largest cities in the kingdom amidst rampant suspicion from her customers.

    As for the prince and his entourage, I haven¡¯t seen them. Marcus obviously won¡¯t be showing his face anywhere, likely stowed away in a disgusting, dank basement while awaiting his execution. I gather from the rumors that Samuel was summoned to Summer Spire, so he¡¯ll be away from the Hall for some time, undoubtedly taking his bodyguard with him.

    Cecilia hasn¡¯t come to find me. Oh, I¡¯ve met her gaze in the Gold Dorm and shared a smile but our interactions end there. Why? That is because of the dragon in the room, Alana. My best friend doesn¡¯t like her. That¡¯s good enough for me. It¡¯s a shame, but I won¡¯t be using the invitation to her room and she doesn¡¯t dare try her luck with the knight-to-be following me.

    There is still the matter of my punishment at the Beast Sanctuary, something I¡¯m not looking forward to at all, but Kierra assures me it¡¯s nothing too bad.

    I hum to myself as I leave the bathroom, toweling my hair dry. Kierra is sprawled on the bed, a piece of paper against her knee and a quill in hand, an inkwell lying on the bed uncovered. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I ask.

    ¡°I¡¯m writing a letter,¡± she says. ¡°Unlike someone, I am on good terms with my family.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on good terms with my family.¡± Some of them. ¡°In fact, I was thinking about writing a letter soon myself.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    I huff, just remembering to scoop up the inkwell before dropping down beside her. I try to sneak a peek at the letter but she¡¯s faster, moving it out of my sight. ¡°How are you going to send it, anyway? You plan on taking a trip?¡± I give her my best pout.

    She easily ignores it. ¡°No, dedia. Just because the humans do not have roads to my forest, does not mean we are as isolated as the merchants think. My brother is a traveler. Lives on water more than he does on land. He has¡­associates in ports all over the world, including the human continent. They will be able to ensure it reaches him and he will convey my regards to the rest of the family.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t talk about them much.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t ask about them. Perhaps worried your words might summon my mother?¡±

    I shiver. ¡°Don¡¯t joke about that.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Not all of my family are quite so¡­extreme. My eldest brother is a winemaker, horrible at his chosen profession but full of stories. You¡¯d love my eldest sister. A dancer of all things. Mother still can¡¯t believe it.¡±

    That doesn¡¯t sound too bad.

    ¡°Ah, but there is the matter of my father.¡±

    I freeze, full of dread. I don¡¯t like the tone of her voice. Maybe I¡¯m imagining things but did my wife sound¡­nervous? ¡°What about him?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s¡­he¡¯s a soft-handed man. At least, to me. Unlike my mother¡¯s other men, I am their only child. It made him a little protective. He never approved of any, hm, suitors.¡±

    Aren¡¯t I one of those suitors!? Oh, saints, I¡¯m far worse. I¡¯m the one who married her and spirited her away from home. It¡¯s just like those songs of roguish hunters swooping through a village and running off with the beautiful daughter of the chief, dashing off with a mob holding farm tools at their backs. Except, the one at my back is an angry elf. The elf who sired the monstrosity named Kierra. No way he is normal.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing for you to worry about.¡± Kierra brings me out of my thoughts with a quick kiss before sliding off the bed. ¡°My father disappeared during my imprisonment. No one has heard from him in two decades.¡±

    ¡°So, he¡¯s not going to try and kill me?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I imagine he will.¡± And you tell me not to worry!? ¡°However, you will be more than capable of handling him after a few years and he could be gone for another two decades. Once this year is over and you register as a summoner of the Hall, we can put into motion all those interesting ideas of yours.¡±

    I reflexively match her smile. Together with Geneva, I¡¯ve got interesting plans involving the other realms, both for resource collection and for the recruitment of more elementals. Some of who may or may not be ¡®banned from the realm¡¯ as ridiculous as that sounds. A few summoners make a couple of bad contracts and now an entire plane of existence is supposed to be shut off? Ridiculous.

    Unfortunately, that does mean that the materials used for summoning them are¡­watched. One of the few groups with access to the materials I need are Hall sanctioned summoners. I suppose they believe that anyone recognized by the Hall has enough knowledge to not let an Abyss elemental run rampant on the continent. I hope so. The last thing I need is someone supervising my summons.

    A few months to go and my schedule will be my own, the full resources of the largest casting institution made available for me. Then, my time at the Hall will truly begin.

 Author Update!

    Hello, my readers! A few announcements.

    Firstly, and this is a touch embarrassing, I misplaced a chapter in Arc 4. The real ch. 45, right after Lou subdues Prince Samuel, has now been posted. It is basically Marcus Ferraro airing his grievances (probably why I forgot about it so easily, ouch). Anyway, all fixed now.

    Now, new chapters. Updates will resume their regular schedule come Friday. Arc 5 has just started for patrons. However, for my free readers, you get a little something before then.

    Between Arcs 4 and 5 are several side stories called miniarcs, tangents that are too long to neatly fit into a plot-driven arc. Some of them are character background, some are character development, a lot of it was me having fun. Here''s where the shameless plug comes in. In the name of exclusive content, not all of the miniarcs will be available to free readers. I know, I know. But, well...

    Wait! I know some of you go for the e-books rather than a monthly subscription. The miniarcs will also be stitched into an e-book if that is the route you prefer, to be released once the lowest tier finishes the last miniarc (about two weeks give or take an update).

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Here are the miniarcs:

    Sanctuary- for Lou¡¯s fight with Prince Samuel, she is sentenced to labor in the Beast Sanctuary, the largest monster collection and natural preserve in the kingdom. There she meets a new friend and foils a new plot.

    Elven Garde- we know what Lou gets up to but what does Kierra do every day? Where do her loyal followers come from? We take a glance into Kierra¡¯s activities from the eyes of a young man who is infatuated with the elf.

    New Form- Lou constructs a new, stronger body with the help of Geneva

    Silvari- a glimpse into the motivations of the bald bastard

    Night Life- Lou and all her friends *cough cough harem cough* go out for a little fun

    After careful deliberation and input from the patrons who have come before you, it was decided that the most important miniarc is <u>New Form</u> and it shall be given to you for free with chapters resuming Friday. Whoo! Afterwards, the much-anticipated Arc 5!

    Let me be clear. You can fully understand Arc 5 without reading the miniarcs and new characters will receive a little introduction, but there will be things you miss. That can¡¯t be helped.

    For those interested, you can read the miniarcs on both tiers of my patreon. Patrons also receive an extra chapter a week, just throwing that out there.

    Once again, chapters will resume Friday. Hope to see you all there!

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-01

    There are two types of hunting.

    The proactive kind where someone wields an advantage to overwhelm a target. That advantage can be anything: strength, speed, stealth, or knowledge. It can be something as simple as the difference in reach of the fighters¡¯ chosen weapons or something random as the weather. It can be a difference of wealth, one fighter simply buying better equipment while the other can only afford garbage.

    Then there¡¯s the subtle kind. One where the hunter does countless hours of preparation, laying the perfect trap. A trap that, if it¡¯s done well, ensnares the prey before they realize they¡¯re being hunted and is inescapable the moment it¡¯s triggered.

    With my wife as my chosen prey for my plot, the proactive method is a terrible choice. That can go wrong in all kinds of ways and I can¡¯t afford that. I have been planning this for months. The details have changed, refined by my experiences and the advice of my conspirators, but the goal remains the same.

    To shrink the gap between Kierra and me.

    While hunting prey stronger than myself, I have no choice but to employ the subtle approach. It requires cunning, patience, and above all, control.

    I struggle to keep my expression neutral as my wife steps into the dining room. I take in the white blouse and leather skirt she¡¯s wearing with interest. ¡°Going out?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Alyssa has agreed to introduce me to a few of the more prominent hunter guilds.¡±

    I frown. That sounds very much like a date. However, the next second, I consciously ease my expression. I¡¯m being ridiculous. This isn¡¯t her pushing my boundaries. She¡¯s going out with a friend. I¡¯m not going to be illogical about this. Besides, when all is done, there will be no one who can compete, no one she can put above me. And that is all I want. All I need, if I¡¯m being honest about my desires, which she wants me to be. I won¡¯t accept anything else.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    She chuckles, as if sensing my thoughts. She steps behind me, wrapping her arms around my neck and leaning against me. ¡°Max has been struggling to buy whole corpses, something that has become even harder with her family under suspicion. I am hoping they might sell them to me directly.¡±

    She leans down, breath caressing the tip of my ear. ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten my promise so soon.¡±

    I grin as she brings up my ¡®vengeance¡¯. ¡°Before you go, help me out with something.¡± I gesture to the brown glass containers on the table in front of me. ¡°I was wondering if you could take a sniff and tell me what you think.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°Just a little project.¡± I stiffen my jaw to keep any clue from slipping into my tone. ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± She raises the first container and gives it a curious whiff, brows scrunching in confusion. ¡°Dedia¡­why are you asking me to smell urine?¡±

    A small twitch of the lips escapes despite my iron-will. ¡°Don¡¯t mind the details.¡± I take the glass from her and hand her the second one. ¡°Go on, go on.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think your appetites are moving in a healthy direction.¡± Despite her words, she wears a smile as she smells the next glass, her confusion again prominent. ¡°It doesn¡¯t smell like much of anything.¡±

    ¡°Again.¡±

    She takes up the third glass and pushes her nose into it. Staring at her intensely, I see the change in her expression. How her eyes narrow, pupils dilating, and her lips subconsciously part. Most telling of all is how she takes another large sniff, letting out a deep sigh.

    I quickly pull the glass away, not wanting her to get any inkling as to my scheme. ¡°So, what did it smell like?¡±

    ¡°Mm? I¡¯m not sure. Familiar. Reminds me of¡­¡± She looks to the side, thoughtful.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to need a little more than that.¡±

    ¡°It reminds me of expensive furs from home. A bit of the animal¡¯s musk remains along with hints from the potions used to treat them. Sweet sap and bitter roots.¡±

    My eyes twitch as I struggle not to react. ¡°Great. And the last one?¡±

    She sniffed it with a bit of anticipation but that is swiftly dashed, her nose scrunching up in offense. ¡°That one is¡­strange.¡±

    ¡°Okay, got it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to tell me what this is about?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± I swiftly cork the bottles, scooping them up in my arms. ¡°Don¡¯t you have somewhere to be?¡±

    The curious elf stares at me and I meet her gaze without flinching. Instead of tackling me and attempting to torture out the information, as I half expect her to, she blows me a kiss and leaves for her not-a-date. Huh. Maybe she really is starting to take me seriously.

    Or maybe it¡¯s time to take it to the next level.

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-02

    I happily take the bottles to the study, where Geneva is waiting. She returns my smile with a grin of her own, tail swinging with amusement. ¡°How was it, my summoner?¡±

    ¡°Number three.¡± I hand her the bottle with the smell Kierra liked, setting the others on the table.

    My strange request had an important purpose. For a while now, Geneva and I have been trying to build my ¡®prime form¡¯, a culmination of my shapeshifting prowess.

    A prime form, according to Geneva, is the one a shapeshifter wears most often and the form that should define them. The way she describes it, it has an almost spiritual significance to shapeshifters. When I asked her what her prime form looks like, she seemed reluctant to comment.

    Her smile never wavered as she tried to brush away the topic but I just¡­had a feeling. So, I¡¯ve been thinking very hard about what my prime form should be, especially since I can shapeshift with an ease that Geneva assures me would make a few of her peers spit blood in anger.

    With the ability to be absolutely anything, I have, in my opinion, a very rational fear of losing my sense of self. Yes, I was reborn as the daughter of a god, as my ¡®base form¡¯ will reflect, but I am still very much the human Lourianne Tome. As inefficient and weak as it is, I¡¯m attached to my human self. The appearance of my human self.

    However, Geneva sold me on the idea of incorporating elements of other creatures to enhance my ¡®human¡¯ form.

    There isn¡¯t much I want to copy from a troll. To be brutally honest, they¡¯re rather ugly. Unfortunately, my elf is obsessed with them. Luckily, not every part of them. Oh, she enjoys a certain organ but that¡¯s not what draws her to them, what makes her melt faster than snow being assaulted by a fire caster.

    It¡¯s their smell.

    To me, they smell like an animal that hasn¡¯t been washed in years but one whiff and my wife is a drooling mess. I didn¡¯t know what to think of it but Geneva enlightened me to something. Creatures have things called pheromones. A scent they release that can affect others. Usually, members of their own species but some can also affect other creatures.

    Geneva has two theories. The first is that Kierra was born able to perceive troll pheromones and become affected by them. Therefore, when she smells a male troll, she reacts like a female troll in heat. As in, she¡¯ll jump on anything close to her.

    The theory has one major hole; the fact that Kierra has successfully hunted said trolls before. If she really were born susceptible to them, how was she ever able to fight them?

    Which leads to the second theory which is a bit¡­unsettling.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    That night, when her team was ambushed by trolls and she was about to die, had to be traumatic. Terrifying even, for my elf who is so proud of her own strength. To be in a situation where she wasn¡¯t sure she could survive, where there¡¯s no time to think and instinct takes over.

    Kierra has a pure physical affinity. With a thought, with a wish, she can manipulate her own body with a mastery someone who has trained their magic for a hundred years wouldn¡¯t be able to match.

    In that moment, with a troll bearing down on her, she wished to survive and her magic responded. She had extensive knowledge of trolls and subconsciously realized the only thing that can curb their aggression is their sexual drive. So, she must have made herself appealing to the creature, mimicking the pheromones of a female, saving her life.

    But how could she, a proud elf, sleep with a being her people deride as little more than pests? Even more so, the ones who had just killed her friends and subordinates? She couldn¡¯t. Not consciously.

    So, her magic acted again. It changed her body so that she would be affected by the trolls¡¯ pheromones, clouding her mind with a lust so powerful she couldn¡¯t think about what she was doing. After that, well. She redesigned her body to enjoy sleeping with them and my wife isn¡¯t one to deny herself pleasures of any kind.

    I have to admit, it makes sense. Far more than she¡¯s actually attracted to those man-pigs. Good for me, because that means I don¡¯t have to shape myself like them to surpass them. I just need that one little piece.

    ¡°Now that we¡¯ve isolated the pheromone that she is attracted to, it is a simple matter to form a body that produces it. Of course, it will also attract female trolls so you should be careful of that.¡±

    I shiver. If they are anything like their male counterparts, that is a horrifying idea, but a consequence I¡¯m willing to endure.

    ¡°Do you have any other requests? Since we are crafting your personal scent, you can take the time to make it more¡­pleasing.¡±

    ¡°What, am I going to start smelling like roses all the time?¡±

    ¡°If you want.¡±

    I blink. That was a joke. ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Of course, my summoner. Smell is a result of biological processes. Have I ever smelled anything less than enticing?¡±

    She smells¡­soft. It¡¯s a little difficult to describe. Something like freshly laundered sheets that have a bit of the sun on them but smokier. Or maybe warm milk with a hint of cinnamon. A smell that reminds me of a warm home.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any perfumes, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°I never noticed. Does that mean that you can make it so I always smell like I¡¯m fresh out of the bath no matter what? Even after foundation training?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    That¡¯s a definite yes. But, hm. What do I always want to smell like? This is kind of difficult.

    ¡°There is no need to commit to a single scent. Just how humans become odorous while sweating, you can change your scent as well. You could make it reactive to the temperature. The amount of sunlight. The presence of water. The time of day.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± I get what she¡¯s trying to do. My biggest weakness in shapeshifting is my lack of creativity. I keep thinking I know what I can do but it¡¯s just my human experience imposing false limitations on this miraculous body. ¡°This¡¯ll take some consideration. Maybe even a trip to the Grand Market.¡±

    ¡°Good. I propose we lean on Maxine Guiness to procure a space. We should attempt the transformations out of the house if you wish to keep this secret from Master.¡±

    ¡°Is that smart? There¡¯s a hundred different eyes to avoid in the city as opposed to a single person here.¡±

    ¡°You would compare any individual in the city to her? I will be honest. If she were to become too curious, I am not certain I could keep her from finding out without using extreme force.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    Geneva smiles. ¡°Shall we go on a date, Lou?¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-03

    I¡¯ve never been on a date with Geneva. It¡¯s a combination of two things, one being my previous, very rational, fear of spending too much time alone with the succubus. The second being my difficulty subjecting her to what I can only imagine to be inane activities. How am I supposed to entertain a centuries-old being of immense power who has traveled through multiple realms and seen sights I can¡¯t even imagine? Watching a play and sampling restaurants seems too dull. I didn¡¯t want to embarrass myself.

    Now, after spending several months together, I¡¯ve become far more comfortable with my elemental. There¡¯s no need to fear looking like an idiot in front of her. Given the absolutely incomprehensible gap in our experience, I¡¯m going to be an idiot before her for a long time.

    Missing great opportunities trying to deny that fact is the really stupid thing. Beyond that, Geneva is more than willing to play along. I¡¯m certain that she¡¯s only doing it to get closer to me and eventually devour me but no need to mind the small things.

    So, when she suggested the date, I gladly accepted, hurrying off to my bedroom to change. To my utter delight, Geneva did the same. When we meet again in the dining room, her usual plain dress is replaced with another white number with two strips of pale blue fabric over the bust and waist. The skirt would be scandalously short at her mid-thigh if not for the double layer of underskirts reaching down to her ankles. Made from the sheer material Kierra has a fondness for, it turns what should be a modest fashion into a walking temptation, the barely obstructed view of her shapely legs making the viewer think they are seeing something they shouldn¡¯t.

    She even applied make-up, the smoky coloring around her eyes making them stand out more and her lips sporting an enticing sheen. Oh, wait, that¡¯s probably shapeshifting. Convenient.

    When I entered, Geneva ducked her head and clasped her hands behind her back, giving me a shy smile.

    It¡¯s fake. I know it¡¯s fake. Works every time though.

    ¡°Shall we?¡± I ask, channeling every gallant hero I¡¯ve ever heard about as I step over and extend my elbow. Geneva giggles as she places her hand on my arm and we walk toward the front door together. Bell, ever helpful, runs ahead of us to open the front door.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The carriage is waiting, Gajin gently patting one of the horses. If I were anyone else, I¡¯d be concerned about him. He spends everyday wandering the garden alone before retreating to his hut to attend to his personal plants. He has regular contact with Geneva, as she¡¯s in charge of instructing the servants in proper conduct and whatever else she deems necessary, but I¡¯d hardly qualify that as healthy.

    My gardener is becoming stranger and stranger. His dark brown hair is long and wild, barely kept in check by a leather tie, and his scraggy stubble is long enough to braid.

    Over a simple shirt and loose pants, he wears a custom jacket Kierra helped him with. It¡¯s a purple dark enough to be almost black, with a high collar rimmed with gold. There are three dull gold buttons in the middle that might as well not exist since he never does them up and along each side are three wide pockets that have a noticeable bulge. An enterprising thief might think they were filled with valuables. A noble might take one look at him and think he was a crazy beggar who¡¯d stolen someone¡¯s jacket and filled the pockets with random trash. The thief would be closer to the truth.

    His pockets are filled with valuables, though only a few would recognize them as such. The bulges in his pocket are holding dirt. Very rich dirt to support the plants he¡¯s growing. From his jacket.

    The lower pockets are used for creepers that have grown up the jacket and wound themselves along his arms. The middle and upper pockets have flowers of all varieties; ones with small, delicate petals, ones with large pouting petals, ones that smell sweet, ones that smell bitter. The man is in bloom, a thick fragrance wafting from his direction. All he needs is a hunched back and he¡¯d be a perfect match for the crazy hermits bards sing about. Maybe a cat.

    I have no idea why the man is a walking flowerpot. One of the women in my life probably has something to do with it. I¡¯d bet at least a few of those flowers are poisonous and meant to be used offensively. Not sure how. Is he going to make someone chew on a stem or swallow crushed petals in the middle of a fight?

    His appearance is definitely unique, which, for status seeking, is just as good as looking good. He gives a shallow bow when he sees us. ¡°Good morning, my lady.¡±

    ¡°Morning, Gajin. We¡¯re not pulling you away from something, are we?¡± Out of the servants, he has to be the busiest. I wouldn¡¯t want his work to suffer.

    ¡°Thanks for the concern but my babies can do without me for a few hours.¡± He opens the door for the carriage as we approach. ¡°Where are we headed?¡±

    I help Geneva inside before climbing in myself. ¡°To the Guiness Company.¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-04

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    For once, Maxine doesn¡¯t rush to meet us the moment we pull up to the large store. A servant guides us to her office. Or, more aptly, the office she currently inhabits. The rich furnishings in deep brown and burgundy don¡¯t match her taste at all. Neither does the drink tray with a glass bottle filled halfway with amber liquid and two glasses. The only thing that fits is the gold banner with a white dove in flight hanging behind her between two windows.

    ¡°Lou.¡± She flashes a tired smile, the faintest of dark bags showing under her eyes. I can almost see the tension in her shoulders as she waves for me to take a seat. I ignore her, letting Geneva have it as I circle around the large desk. She tries to stand up but I stop her with a hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°Hey, Max,¡± I say as I move behind her, eyeing her back critically. ¡°How¡¯s it been?¡±

    ¡°Horrible,¡± she groans. ¡°My cousin left me with quite a mess. If I¡¯d gotten a look at his accounts before the fiasco with the prince, he would have been evicted from this store long ago. His ledgers look like a child¡¯s mathematics homework.¡± She scoffs, tossing her head.

    ¡°Mm, we kind of left you holding the knife,¡± I mumble as my fingers begin kneading her shoulders. We had our own problems to deal with. The Hall conducted a full investigation into the affair, where we were questioned multiple times. Then the crown investigated. Thankfully, Dunwayne intervened, not taking kindly to the royal family throwing their weight around, but we were still asked to cooperate. Then of course I had to deal with the tension amongst the acolytes. Specifically, those of the traditionalist faction and Prince Samuel¡¯s staunch supporters.

    Still, I never walked around with blocks of stone masquerading as my shoulders like our favorite merchant. Seriously, it feels like I¡¯m trying to move hardened clay rather than flesh. She groans as my thumbs press into the muscles, her ears reddening a moment later. ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    I ignore her obvious embarrassment. After all, she¡¯s clearly enjoying it as she hasn¡¯t pushed me away ye and I need practice. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect it to be keeping you up at night. I thought you Guiness lived and breathed intrigue.¡±

    Maxine scoffs. ¡°If it were just about the store, I could handle it. The problem is the future. Despite scrambling to contain the current mess that is the Grand Market location, my father doesn¡¯t think me fit to run a store myself.¡± I can¡¯t see her frown but the bitterness in her tone gives me a good idea about the expression she¡¯s making. ¡°As such, a new manager will be arriving soon.¡±

    ¡°Hoh? Any ideas?¡±

    ¡°After the recent debacle, he¡¯ll want it in capable hands. Which means one of my siblings.¡± The bitterness transforms into outright contempt.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get along then?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to like the people you are actively competing against. We were pitted against each other from the beginning. One of them coming means I lose.¡±

    I grunt in acknowledgment of her words, my hands moving to the middle of her back. She sucks in a sharp breath as her spine pops before sagging in relief. ¡°Any idea which sibling it will be?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re small-time in your family, huh?¡± She stiffens and I smack her shoulders. ¡°Relax, I¡¯m just trying to get an understanding of the situation.¡±

    She does relax. ¡°My father has four sons and eight daughters. That¡¯s only counting the children from his wife and recognized mistresses. There¡¯s no counting the bastards that man has sired because of his inability to resist a pretty face.¡±

    She tries to look at me but I stop her with a gentle hand. ¡°I¡¯m the seventh daughter, born from his wife. Now, my father caters to my mother¡¯s children to appease her. That barely gives me an advantage as I¡¯ve got three older siblings in the same boat. I¡¯m the eleventh child overall. Forget the pie. The crumbs, the platter, hell, the damn chef who cooked the thing, have already been claimed.¡±

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    She sighs. ¡°Don¡¯t be fooled. As a Guiness daughter, I¡¯m entitled to a life of luxury but if I want anything else, to become anything else but my father¡¯s trophy, I have to fight tooth and nail for the smallest scraps.¡±

    I feel for her. Succession battles can get nasty. Can¡¯t imagine the madness of having a dozen competitors involved. And it sounds like bastards pop out of nowhere to throw their own hats into the ring periodically. ¡°If it¡¯s so bad, why don¡¯t you strike out on your own?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve thought about it.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Wasn¡¯t expecting that.

    ¡°Mm. More times that you can imagine.¡± She arches as I shift my attention to her lower back. ¡°However, if there is one thing my father despises as much as the unappealing, it is competition. Should I dare strike out from the Guiness Company, he¡¯d make a point of strangling any enterprise before it can get off the ground. There¡¯s also the option of allying myself to one of father¡¯s competitors, but no one would welcome me without the expectation that I¡¯m bringing Guiness secrets with me.¡±

    I nod. ¡°Going out on your own doesn¡¯t mean you want to go against your father.¡±

    ¡°Then there¡¯s the option of not going into the merchant business. A bevy of tutors left me with a variety of skills. I can, well. I¡¯m a decent enough painter. Good enough for my father not to ban me from the art, which he¡¯s done to my second brother. I could make a living visiting different estates to do portraits and painting landscapes when I get bored with the excessive etiquette.¡±

    ¡°Sounds great.¡± Sounds like the kind of life I wished for not too long ago. Which makes me think I have a good idea why she won¡¯t do it. ¡°But you don¡¯t want an easy life.¡± I move my hands up her back, pressing my thumbs into her neck. She lets out a squeak as her head lolls forward. ¡°You have potential and you want to realize it.¡±

    ¡°Silly, isn¡¯t it?¡± she mumbles, voice weak. ¡°I can do nothing and live a life many people dream about. Yet, I torture myself seeking the approval of the living embodiment of greed. They¡¯ve tried to kill me, you know. People from my siblings¡¯ factions trying to curry favor. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing. Not even a single store.¡±

    I lean her back against the chair, clicking my tongue as I stare at her dark hair tied in a messy ponytail. I wish I had a comb. I have to make do with my fingers as I undo the tie and gently rake through the dark tresses. A little greasier than I expected. She really hasn¡¯t been taking care of herself properly. ¡°So, what are you going to do about it?¡±

    ¡°What can I do? It¡¯s like trying to move a mountain.¡±

    ¡°A strong enough earth caster can. A dragon could burn it down.¡±

    ¡°Comparing me to a dragon isn¡¯t helpful.¡±

    ¡°Why not? It¡¯s not impossible.¡± My fingers massage her scalp. ¡°I understand though. Trying to do the impossible without the talent is a herculean task. Which is why¡ª¡±

    I remove my hands. After a while, she looks over her shoulder at me, eyes lidded with relaxation but a small frown on her face. I poke the small wrinkle between her brows until it goes away. ¡°When you¡¯re out of your depth, ask for help, idiot.¡±

    She scowls but the expression collapses when I raise a teasing finger, a hand shielding her face. ¡°And who would be willing to risk taking on my father?¡± she asks, voice full of doubt¡­but also a little hope.

    I swiftly dodge that gaze. I like you, Max, but not that much.

    ¡°See, you¡¯re going too far. I was thinking about getting a few people with good judgment together to brainstorm ideas.¡± I think her biggest problem is she can¡¯t imagine a future for herself without the Guiness family. Understandable if she were the eldest child and destined to inherit the empire but for someone on the bottom of the familial ladder, that dream is nothing but a chain holding her back. ¡°Think about it. In the meantime, we¡¯ve got some requests. I need a space, something like a warehouse. Doesn¡¯t have to be here in the Hall.¡±

    ¡°What for? Not that I¡¯m not curious, but I want to make sure the space is suitable.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to be anything but big and private.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have one of the runners set it up immediately.¡±

    ¡°Good. That means you¡¯re free to come shopping with us.¡±

    Maxine sighs. ¡°I still have work to do¡ª¡±

    ¡°Max, your work is killing you. Geo, tell her the thing you told me about stress.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true, Miss Guiness.¡± The succubus smiles shyly. ¡°Too much stress can cause headaches, pain, and weaken the body.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll go bald,¡± I add, snickering as a hand reaches up to touch her hair. ¡°Like any good friend, I¡¯m concerned for your safety.¡±

    ¡°Is that what the massage was for?¡±

    ¡°No need to thank me.¡± I grin as she tries to hide her disappointment. I wonder if she¡¯s disappointed because she has less influence over me or because she hoped I was flirting with her? ¡°Come on. I¡¯m picking out a gift for Kii and it has to be perfect. Think of it as doing me a favor.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. If you insist¡­¡± Her voice is reluctant but anyone can see how relieved she is as she stands up.

    ¡°Great.¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-05

    On Maxine¡¯s recommendation, we stop outside a small, charming store with no windows on its front and the picture of a black cat on its door. It doesn¡¯t look like much of anything. ¡°Are you sure this is the place?¡±

    I catch the slight blush on Maxine¡¯s face as she exits the carriage after me. Geneva follows after her and motions to Gajin, who pulls off. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m¡­positive it¡¯ll be to your tastes.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. If you say so.¡± She seems a little fidgety but I can¡¯t imagine her plotting against me. Still, I hold an arm out to Geneva before opening the door.

    We step into another world as the bright morning is swallowed by the store¡¯s gloom. Red and yellow lanterns bathe the room in a mimicry of sunset, giving the rows of shelving an air of mystery.

    An older woman is seated behind the long counter at the back of the store. She looks ready to attend a ball, dressed in an elegant purple dress with a neckline bordering on scandalous. Her hair is wrapped up in a messy bun and she wears a short veil, the edge covered in what gleams like small diamonds, the veil itself not so opaque that I can¡¯t make out the details of her face. She holds a short pipe in a black-gloved hand, thin smoke rings floating up from its glowing end. A black cat curled up on the counter opens one yellow eye to peer at us as we approach.

    ¡°Oh? If it isn¡¯t the princess.¡± The woman smiles, setting down her pipe. ¡°And friends.¡±

    Maxine clears her throat. ¡°Lou, this is Madame Black. She¡¯s a frequent customer. I met her while auditing the accounts. Madame, this is Lourianne Tome, a good friend. I thought she would be interested in your¡­wares.¡±

    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m not surprised but everyone¡¯s welcome at Kitty¡¯s Lounge.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s Kitty?¡± I say, waving a hand to the cat doing an impressive job at ignoring us.

    Madame Black chuckles. ¡°No, this is Mr. Black.¡±

    Um. Wait. If she¡¯s Madame Black and that¡¯s Mr. Black, does that mean¡ª

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ve got something to satisfy you.¡± Madame Black stands from her seat and moves from behind the corner. ¡°We offer the most sensual delights in the Hall.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a perfume,¡± I say, putting my strange musings out of mind. ¡°Something that says¡­eat me all night.¡±

    Maxine chokes on air beside me as Madame Black smiles. ¡°Trying to impress a sweetheart, then?¡±

    ¡°Yes. My wife.¡±

    Aw, her reaction is rather subdued. I¡¯m so used to other people dropping their jaws when I announce my marital status that her little hum of amusement is unusual and disappointing.

    ¡°Right this way.¡± She guides us through the shelves. I¡¯m the one who¡¯s surprised as we pass several strange objects. Leather one-pieces that look they¡¯d show more skin than they¡¯d cover, many of them featuring corsets that make me flashback to unhappy memories. A surprising number of restraints, ranging from metal to rope. Then there¡¯s the tools. I can¡¯t imagine what some of them do but one shelf has a grouping of items that have a recognizable shape. Hehe, I guess everyone can¡¯t have the luck of being a shapeshifter.

    Toward the back of the room, there¡¯s a display showing many glass bottles. Some are simple and clear. Some are colored and blown into exotic shapes.

    Madame Black puts a hand on my shoulder before I approach the shelf. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want to tax your senses by standing too close. Allow me.¡± She steps forward, grabbing three bottles and a circular tin filled with dark beans. ¡°Maxine, be a dear,¡± she says before handing her the bottles. She extends the tin to me. ¡°Take a deep whiff.¡±

    I oblige, letting out a hum of appreciation. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Cava beans. They make a wonderful drink when brewed correctly, too. Now, for the first one.¡± She grins, the gesture given a strangeness slightly obscured by her veil. ¡°You don¡¯t strike me as a floral girl. So, that leaves¡­¡±

    She takes a small pink bottle with a round bottom from Maxine¡¯s hands and removes the top before holding it toward me. I lean down and breathe in. A range of fruity smells hits me, like I¡¯m walking past the fruits stands of the capital¡¯s market without the smells of the city getting in the way. Enticing, but not what I¡¯m going for.

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    Madame Black doesn¡¯t need to hear my disapproval before pulling it away, putting on its cap and handing it to Maxine before putting the cava beans back under my nose. ¡°I thought so. Then, next.¡±

    The next bottle she hands me is a simple brown bottle, almost unappealing. When she uncaps it, a wave of nostalgia makes me smile. It smells of the forest. Not the one where I met my wife but it¡¯s close enough to evoke the memory. A scent that reminds me of the clean air, mixed with wood and grass, both fresh and slightly rotting, like the debris covering the forest floor, making it a little pungent in a good way. Fills the senses.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that but it¡¯s not what I¡¯m looking for.¡± She redoes the top and I carefully take it from her, handing it to Geneva. ¡°Do you have anything else like it?¡±

    She takes me to a shelf with many other bottles done in earth tones. I take a dark green bottle that smells similar but the pungent scent of foliage is replaced by a sharper smell Madame Black calls mint and a gold bottle that adds the fruity smells from the first bottle.

    Then she gives a third bottle and I¡¯m enthralled.

    This one is what she calls a musk with hints of a fragrant wood that is both enticing and relaxing. ¡°I need to see all of these.¡±

    The shop owner doesn¡¯t even pause before guiding me over to one of the shelves. I grab several that pique my interest before taking them away to the less fragrant counter.

    My succubus lays a hand on my wrist and I feel the warmth of invading mana, relaxing as I let it do its work. It travels to my nose, altering it. The scents of the room come into focus and I give her a discrete nod, her magic retracting. I could do something myself but I don¡¯t have a template that is inconspicuous enough for company.

    With my new and improved nose, I go through the different bottles. Through much deliberation, I settle on three. The first combines the standard musk with a subtle sweetness. The second combines it with spices. The only one I can recognize is cinnamon but my nose picks apart over half a dozen of them. It adds an air of mystery, baiting someone to take another whiff just to try and solve the riddle.

    The last though, really catches me. It has a smokiness to it, close to expensive incense some nobles burn to keep back the smell of the city. It makes me think of candlelit nights and the type of activities it invites.

    Really, now that I have the foundation for the type of scent I want to craft, I could leave the store but out of courtesy, I purchase all six bottles. Madame Black¡¯s veil can¡¯t hide her smile as she carefully places the bottles into a velvet lined box. I understand why when she quotes the price. Eighty gold crowns for a few bottles of perfume? I could feed two families for a year with that. Generously.

    I pay it happily, smug with the knowledge I can afford it. It feels good to be privileged.

    After I pass the box to Geneva, Madame Black slides a black card to me. On one side is the picture of a cat, Mr. Black I¡¯m assuming, the edges done in a swirling golden border. The other side has words. ¡°You are cordially invited to the Black Ball?¡±

    ¡°A small gathering of my best customers.¡± Madame Black takes up her pipe again. I notice the ends of the pipe is filled with small bundles of green. ¡°Those with too much free time who look for pleasurable ways to spend it along with those who give themselves to providing that pleasure. There¡¯s usually a gathering every Restday, if you¡¯re interested.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I¡¯ll keep it in mind.¡± I put the card on top of the box and leave the store. Maxine, who remained rather quiet while inside, finally bursts in the carriage.

    ¡°Do you know what you¡¯ve done by accepting that invitation!?¡± she shouts, nearly coming off the opposite bench as she leans toward me.

    ¡°Clearly not what you know.¡± I¡¯m not worried about her sudden panic. It can¡¯t be anything dangerous. Otherwise, Geneva would have intervened and I think highly enough of Max to be assured she wouldn¡¯t have let me walk into it blind. ¡°You going to tell me?¡±

    She takes a deep breath. ¡°The Black Ball is¡­not a place where those of a reputable reputation go. It¡¯s a sordid affair that attracts those of a degenerate nature.¡±

    I blink. ¡°Max¡­¡± What do you think I am?

    ¡°Not like you. You may be a bit wanton but you¡¯re still courteous. Those people who go the Black Ball¡­¡± She sighs.

    ¡°How come you know so much about this? Something you want to tell me?¡±

    Her lips turn down. ¡°The Black Ball is less an event and more a tradition amongst nobility. It is in every major city. My father¡­I and all of my siblings have been made to attend. It is a time to build connections, and, if you are smart, a good place to learn privileged information about others.¡±

    ¡°You mean blackmail material.¡±

    ¡°Amongst other things, yes. The ball caters to the carnal desires of the rich. Those can be¡­ugly.¡±

    ¡°Two things, Max.¡± I stretch out my legs, propping them up beside her on the opposite bench. ¡°I¡¯m not going to fall prey to this ball or whatever it is. I¡¯m not starved for carnal pleasure. It might not be the norm amongst the obligated marriages of most nobles but my wife treats me well in that department of our relationship. And you¡¯ve seen her. They¡¯re going to be hard-pressed to find a woman that can not only rival her but outshine her.¡± I snort. ¡°And if they did, Kii might drag me to the ball.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I didn¡¯t take her for, um.¡±

    ¡°No, no. She wouldn¡¯t be interested in the woman. She¡¯s all about what you can do. Looking good¡¯s just a bonus. No, she¡¯d do it just to work me up.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Oh, is right. Secondly, what are you worried about? I can¡¯t imagine anything that will scar me from witnessing it.¡± Depending on how depraved these people are, they might offend me, but I¡¯m no sheltered princess who faints at her first look at reality. ¡°Who¡¯s going to blackmail me? Do I have a reputation to be concerned about? Please. And the last thing I¡¯m worried about is my safety. At all.¡±

    She seems convinced, settling back onto her bench. ¡°I¡­may have gotten overly excited. Though I urge you not to underestimate the Black Ball. Its lure is¡­insidious.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, you¡¯re only making me more interested.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything else you wanted to get today?¡± she asks quickly, likely hoping to distract me from my plans.

    [My summoner, I have a few suggestions.]

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go.¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-06

    Maxine makes good on her promise and by Restday, I¡¯m secreted away with Geneva in a basement beneath an old workshop in Quest. I doubt anyone would wonder what¡¯s going on beneath the surface with the building above us in shambles, but just in case, Bell is patrolling for unwanted attention.

    ¡°Lou, shall we get started?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    I strip, tossing my clothes into a neat pile. With a mental shrug, I drop my human skin. Then, I mentally browse the forms available to me before picking one I¡¯ve never used before.

    My perspective shifts as I gain several inches of height. I hold up my arms, seeing green and a flash of silver hair from the corner of my eyes. I try to keep my gaze away but they¡¯re inevitably drawn to the large orbs of flesh on my chest. I can¡¯t help but give them a squeeze.

    ¡°Try not to get too carried away, my summoner,¡± Geneva says, grinning at me as I continue fondling my, or really my wife¡¯s, chest.

    ¡°I¡¯m good. Go ahead and do the thing.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± Geneva closes her eyes as she concentrates. ¡°It is complete. Do you smell anything?¡±

    I give the air a good whiff. Huh. I never knew how well Kierra¡¯s nose works. It¡¯s not as good as an animal¡¯s but stronger than a human¡¯s and certain smells jump out at me. Specifically, Geneva¡¯s and my own. I¡¯m used to Kierra¡¯s smell; a warm, earthy scent, like the outdoors after a heavy rain. However, with her nose, I notice how complex it is. It¡¯s hard to describe as I can¡¯t relate most of it to anything I¡¯ve smelled before.

    Geneva is even worse. She smells like¡­something ancient. Not in the old and dusty sense but more in the aged sense. Like a fine wine. My vocabulary isn¡¯t extensive enough to try and describe anything else about it.

    With Kierra¡¯s pure affinity, her intentions become reality. From the stories she¡¯s told me about her childhood, she probably developed this sniffer while learning how to track prey. Ugh, I can see how this thing can be useful but it¡¯s a bit much. Having something like this full-time¡­it¡¯ll be an adjustment process but I¡¯ll get used to it, hopefully.

    ¡°Nope.¡± Heh. Good to see she isn¡¯t perfect.

    ¡°Ah. One moment.¡± Her eyes close again. I amuse myself by fondling more of my wife¡¯s body until I inhale something¡­strange. It smells like Geneva but there¡¯s another element to it. One that draws my attention. Completely. My eyes snap to her as the rest of the room falls out of focus and the next thing I know, I¡¯m walking toward her. I grab hold of her, burying my nose in her hair and breathing in deeply. A warmth spreads from my navel as my thighs rub together.

    Then I snap back to attention as the heat is ripped away. My mind clears and my thoughts slow as I recover from¡­whatever just happened.

    ¡°It would seem we have reliably reproduced the pheromone.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I reach up, just noticing a trail of drool hanging from the corner of my mouth. Oh, forget this.

    I revert back to my elemental form and the fogginess clears. No brain to be befuddled, hah. The burdens of flesh.

    ¡°What did it smell like?¡± Geneva asks.

    I couldn¡¯t describe it if I tried. The moment I smelled that stuff, I doubt I could tell someone my name. I was one second away from rubbing against my succubus like a dog in heat. It is scarily effective against her.

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    ¡°Never mind then. I can assure you as to its quality. The next part.¡±

    It¡¯s Geneva¡¯s turn to strip and she goes about it far slower than necessary, making a show of it. I know from the look she gives me as a finger traces her collar before undoing the buckle. After her underwear joins the pile, I feel a pounding start between my eyes as she transforms into a mass of pulsing red flesh.

    [You can open your eyes, Lou.]

    I do. My cute succubus has transformed into a monster. Whatever it is, it¡¯s tall, a head taller than even Kierra. Its skin is white as chalk, unnaturally pale. A view enhanced by its gaunt frame. I can see its ten ribs. Long, gangly arms hang past its waist, the crooked digits tipped with fearsome claws. It steps forward with a strange gait given its bowed legs and lays itself on the ground. A red light covers it and Geneva crawls from its back, a horrible facsimile of birth.

    ¡°It has been a while since I have done something so strenuous.¡± She rolled her shoulders. ¡°Separating flesh is as taxing as I remember. With the subpar density of mana on this plane, it should take a total of nine days to create all the forms we¡¯ve decided on.¡±

    I bob in agreement before looking at the body on the floor. Saints, the thing is still alive. I can see its chest rising and falling, but it¡¯s simply meat. A statue crafted from flesh. Alive but not one of the living. I put the thoughts out of mind as I ooze over the creature, enveloping it.

    I¡¯ve learned that the larger something is, the longer it takes to dissolve it. Nearly a minute later, I¡¯ve gained more mass. With a thought, I shift into my new form. Immediately, I understand why Geneva chose it. The thing is practically four sticks glued to a torso but I can feel its strength. What¡¯s it called?

    ¡°The inhabitants of Burning Earth refer to them as, hm. Loosely translated, pale void stomachs.¡±

    That¡¯s terrible.

    ¡°It is factual. They are constantly driven to consume prey, to the point their world is barren of all other creatures besides themselves. No matter how much they eat, they are never fulfilled. They will even eat their own kind.¡±

    Doesn¡¯t excuse bad naming sense. How about¡­gangly. Ganglies for a group. You know, because of the arms.

    ¡°And you mock our names.¡±

    It¡¯s cute and it¡¯s catchy, something very important when you need to remember dozens of different realms and all the creatures within. Oh, don¡¯t forget to write down records for all of these creatures. Just in case.

    ¡°I doubt you could contract a¡­gangly. If they have any form of communication, none has been able to decipher it.¡±

    Still, the more you know. Ready for the next one?

    ¡°Mm, yes.¡±

    I close my eyes when the red pulsing starts. When I open them, has flesh has turned to crystal. Through the transparent stone I can see strange nodes of light, pulsing with each movement as she works her new body, moving back and forth again with a strange fluidity I wouldn¡¯t expect from her appearance. Once she determines everything¡¯s correct, she lays down and separates from the body. I quickly consume it. Then I swap back to my human form.

    Geneva grins, tail wrapping around her waist. My eyes are drawn to her hips, then crawl up to her modest chest, specifically the dusky nipples standing at attention.

    ¡°We still have some time until Master is expecting us. Perhaps you would like some¡­instruction.¡±

    My lips twitch. Part of me wants to smile while the other is offended. ¡°Instruction?¡±

    She stalks toward me, tail whipping back and forth. I shiver as her hands brush over my abs, which are sculpted from my wife¡¯s efforts. ¡°Mm.¡± I stifle a yelp as one of her hands abruptly cups my sex, her thumb teasing me. ¡°There isn¡¯t much need for technique when it comes to Master and her fetish. And since you appreciate honesty¡­¡±

    I see her tail lash and the next thing I know, I¡¯m falling. I hit the ground with a wince but there¡¯s no time to be upset about it with Geneva crouched over me. She crawls up my body, putting her mouth by my ear. ¡°You could be the absolute worse lover in all the realms and I would scream your name.¡±

    I pout, my emotional scales dipping further into offense. ¡°I¡¯m not that bad.¡±

    ¡°Not at all,¡± she practically purrs, eyes bright with amusement. ¡°But I see you, Lou. I know what you want.¡± She pokes my chest playfully. ¡°You enjoy being the center of attention. To be desired above all else. Why else would you deal with a crazy elf who wants you for your power? Contract a creature known for driving its summoners mad? Entertain a woman who can see through you in a literal way when it is one of your greatest fears?¡±

    Um. When you say it like that, it sounds unhealthy.

    ¡°No worries, my summoner. As your wife says, embrace your desires. And they are vast. If you want all those you fancy to orbit around you, willingly, then you would do well to expand your repertoire.¡±

    She chuckles at my slight frown, slowly grinding against me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lou. It¡¯ll be fun.¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-07

    ¡°That¡¯s the last one.¡±

    I can¡¯t help feeling excited. After days of eating nightmares, all the pieces have been gathered and we are ready to assemble my prime form. I shift back to human and lie down, closing my eyes. I hear the clomp of Geneva¡¯s hooves as she walks over before a soft hand touches my brow.

    ¡°We will start one at a time, from the inside out. First, the skeleton. The geodea.¡±

    I think on the living crystal Geneva turned into. We rifled through Geneva¡¯s expansive collection of forms, the succubus giving detailed explanations of the benefits and drawbacks of each one. The geodea has a skeleton that is both flexible and highly resistant to force. All while being incredibly lightweight. I may have also added an inch or two of height, letting Geneva make adjustments after the initial transformation.

    ¡°Good. Now, organs.¡±

    This one is the strangest. To improve my internals, Geneva had to copy¡­me. Then, using her extensive knowledge, she improved on it, testing their functions personally. Then, she brought everything to its ¡°optimal¡± state, without creating all new organs, I had to¡­eat my own body. Such are the ways of the shapeshifter.

    Things become hazy for a moment while she replaces my brain but it¡¯s over quickly. A tiny bead of dread remains. I know she hasn¡¯t done anything. I drafted a paper full of thirty-six different commands to make sure she couldn¡¯t, but still¡­

    ¡°The muscles.¡±

    From the gangly. I immediately lose a dangerous amount of body mass as my muscles compact. Then Geneva does her work, filling out my deflated form.

    ¡°The eyes.¡±

    While the many realms are varied and unique, they also contain a surprising amount of similarities. Not just in their rules but in the creatures that inhabit them and the generalizations that apply. Avian species are known for their vision and that holds true across the realms. I was shocked to learn they don¡¯t have the best eyes. Apparently, insects do.

    My new eyes are modeled after something loosely translated to ¡°spirit-seeker¡±. A butterfly that is attracted to the dead. Geneva was interested in the creature because she thought they could see, or at least sense, souls. She never managed to confirm or disprove that theory.

    What they can do is see mana. My new eyes don¡¯t end there. There is also a transparent lid that can block the flows of mana, as apparently the sense can be disorientating in a fight where powerful spells are flying.

    Once we came to the idea of using ¡°films¡± for different effects, we got a little carried away. There¡¯s a film to allow me to see better at night, one to allow me to see underwater, one to guard against bright lights as Geneva¡¯s claims it¡¯s a frequent tactic in battles, and, my favorite, a film that magnifies my vision. Each film is about as thick as a strand of hair so despite their numbers, they aren¡¯t noticeable until I use them.

    ¡°Say ahh.¡±

    I open my mouth as she works on my teeth, remaking them with the strongest biological material she knows. Which is¡­the teeth of a snail. I didn¡¯t believe her at first. Then she showed me a picture of a horrifying realm. An endless sky of stormy clouds in the shape of anguished faces, bloody rain falling from the empty eyes into a roiling red sea.

    Jagged, black rocks with glowing veins of silver rose from the terrible waters, the smallest one larger than any mountain I could imagine. Crawling over them were snails, though I hesitate to call them that. The only thing recognizable of the creatures were their dark, spiral shells but the things within¡­

    A mere glimpse made me retch violently.

    Ugh, don¡¯t even want to think about it.

    After the teeth comes the tongue. Made with a different muscle than the rest of my body, as the compact muscles of the gangly can¡¯t provide the flexibility I want. I¡¯ve also taken the liberty of increasing its length. Coincidentally, that required a bit of adjustment to my jaw that ended up giving me a more appealing jawline.

    ¡°The skin.¡±

    Fun one. As the most visible and largest organ, it has to meet high standards for both appearance and durability. The creature we settled on was¡­a frog.

    Normally, the thought of having frog skin would be disgusting. Luckily, this isn¡¯t a normal frog. Geneva calls it a royal swamp smogger. It is the apex predator of its home realm, Sinking Swamp. The entire place is a disgusting bog filled with toxic air. Unsurprisingly, the creatures of the area are all venomous. The smogger stands out as it eats poison. Its skin is highly resistant to physical trauma and there¡¯s also its ability to secrete poison through said skin, which we have a few uses in mind for.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Now, the fun part.¡±

    I swallow as her hand moves between my thighs. This was an issue I spent months debating. The question of my sexual organs.

    When you can be anything you want, who you are becomes very important. This prime form and how it¡¯s recognized amongst shapeshifters makes that especially so.

    As a shapeshifter, I¡¯m not overly attached to my gender but I am attached to my image of myself. That happens to be a woman. Simple as that. Been one since I was born and feel no need to change that.

    However, I have an appreciation for the male organ. Not enough to have one swinging between my legs. Besides the hassle of it, my wardrobe would have to be changed to accommodate it and no doubt my wife would have a field day exploiting the new weakness, it simply doesn¡¯t match my image of myself.

    Then Geneva, the embodiment of temptation, provides another option.

    There exists species where the males¡¯ sexual organ is hidden inside their bodies until stimulated. Typically, it¡¯s a trait seen in reptiles but, well, we¡¯re shapeshifters. I wouldn¡¯t be embarrassed to call Geneva a flesh artist. Silly things like nature and precedent aren¡¯t going to get in her way.

    Despite the solution presented, I continued to waver. Shapeshifting into a troll to rail my wife is one thing. It¡¯s almost like picking up a tool for a specific job or donning a change of clothes. What she suggested was permanent. It dangerously threatened the sense of self I¡¯m trying to maintain.

    What sways me is the prospect of a family. Not just a fleshy tool, but a fully-functioning baby maker to one day pop out little Tomes in the future. In the current generation, I¡¯m by far the superior option to continue the family legacy, which I do take great pride in despite my distaste with dealing with my family.

    I thought shapeshifting was difficult. The spell for magically impregnating a female truly, as in the child having my blood despite all my modifications, is so incredibly complex, if I write it out, a single book won¡¯t be enough. It could probably fill the entire first floor of the Grand Library. Geneva couldn¡¯t show me the full thing, my eyes swimming after the first three minutes of scrolling numbers and variables.

    If I want a family, I¡¯d have to use it multiple times per ¡°attempt¡±. The mana requirement for the spell would be immense, the mental strain easily able to kill any mood, and a whole host of other unpleasant details.

    Or Geneva can spend an equivalent amount of mana making it work indefinitely.

    Not a hard decision.

    ¡°Details, details¡­¡±

    A few important things to satisfy my vanity. I mean, I¡¯m comfortable with my looks but there¡¯s no harm in sprucing up a bit. Thicker eyebrows, longer lashes, and a few other minor things. The only blatant change is my eyes. The normal brown color is replaced by a deep violet with thin streaks of silver in the iris. Homage to Cosmo, may he stay forever glossy.

    ¡°There. All done.¡± Geneva stands up, smiling down at me. Somehow, she¡¯s made all the different parts fit together seamlessly. ¡°Your turn, Lou.¡±

    Right. I turn a hand into my elemental form. Then, I separate from the rest of my body, losing a substantial amount of mass in the process. Luckily, there are three corpses on the ground, monsters of course, put here for just this occasion. I swallow them, gaining much more heft.

    I take a moment to observe my new body. I look remarkably the same despite all the changes. My face has gone from ¡°casual handsome¡± to a well-sculpted work of art. Dare I say it, stately. Amazing what a little proportion balancing, as Geneva calls it, can do. My dark hair has light purple and silver highlights which match well with my new eyes. I don¡¯t look taller despite the extra inches I gave myself but my body looks sleeker and¡­my chest larger.

    I couldn¡¯t resist. Nothing much, I prefer putting my face in pillows rather than carrying them around. Just a few more curves to soften the rest of me.

    After admiring myself for a while, I get on with it, enveloping the living but lifeless doll, consuming it. I instinctively feel a new form available to me and choose it.

    A moment later, I¡¯m staring at my new hands, taking stock of everything. Like always, adopting a new form this way gives me all knowledge of it and how to use it. I raise a foot and bring it down with force. The stone floor cracks. ¡°Ooh. Going to have to be careful with that.¡±

    ¡°Your physique alone is stronger than even your wife¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°All according to plan.¡± I flex everything, making sure I have full range of movement. Then I stretch. There¡¯s only so much I can do having to accommodate bones but I feel much more limber. I was flexible before, thanks to Kierra¡¯s attentions, but now I don¡¯t feel any strain.

    I sniff, smelling myself. Mm, I smell like sun-warmed sheets, a hint of an exotic meal, and a horny woman. In a good way. I don¡¯t know what magic Geneva used to make the musky scent of sex into a delicious perfume but I appreciate it.

    With a new internal flex, my scent becomes stronger, filling the air around me. ¡°And this is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, it contains the pheromone that attracts your wife. Along with several other aphrodisiacs throughout the realms.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m not going to have random monsters trying to hump my leg, am I?¡±

    ¡°Only the most attractive ones.¡±

    Oooh, fun for the future. For now, back to my new body. ¡°Make me sweat.¡± I sigh at her grin. ¡°In the non-sexual way, please.¡±

    ¡°But we have so much fun together~¡±

    I glare at her as her hand touches my abs, trying to hide my trembling resolve. Hold strong, me. I¡¯ve got to use a firmer hand with these elementals, especially if I want to add more in the future. I¡¯m the summoner here.

    Her magic courses through me and my palms start to sweat. Geneva raises my hand to her lips and I jump as she licks it up. ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°Good?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Casual contact is fine but be careful who ingests it.¡±

    ¡°Anyone who is licking the sweat off my body is who I want feeling the effects.¡± Why stop at a smell? Every part of me is meant to arouse. Best part, I won¡¯t stink no matter how much I sweat, only more attractive. Haha, I¡¯d hate me if I weren¡¯t me.

    ¡°Alright. Let me move around a bit and then we¡¯ll go home and show Kierra her¡­present.¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-08

    I¡¯m having a drink in the living room when I hear Kierra come in. I smile, but it quickly dims after I register the second pair of footsteps. It¡¯s still sufficient to be called friendly as the two women enter.

    ¡°Welcome back, Kii,¡± I say with false cheer as I set my glass down. ¡°And Lady Filagree. What a nice surprise.¡±

    Lady Filagree seems uncomfortable. And injured. One of the sleeves of her shirt is shredded and her skirts are dusted with grime. Didn¡¯t take her for the type to wear skirts. Her flaming red hair is pulled back in a ponytail and there¡¯s blood on her cheek from what I presume to be a healed cut. Her appearance is haggard but she seems to be in a good mood. ¡°Tome. You¡¯re looking¡­smug.¡±

    Why do I get the feeling she hates me? ¡°Well, I¡¯ve had a productive day and a good drink to finish it off. What more can a girl ask for?¡±

    ¡°I offered her our shower,¡± Kierra adds.

    Lady Filagree huffs. ¡°The staff housing is good but spartan. They cut corners to save money because of all the researchers who squat there for two decades trying to make the next breakthrough. The water pressure is shit.¡± She glares at Kierra but I don¡¯t detect any malice in the gaze. ¡°I can¡¯t believe they gave you a house. It¡¯s reserved for teachers with at least ten years on staff who dedicate themselves to the Hall.¡±

    My wife smiles. ¡°You have to make them work for it. Come, I¡¯ll show you the way.¡± She waves Lady Filagree towards the stairs, turning to give me a smile before following her up.

    I, very calmly, retake my seat. Then very calmly refill my glass. Only to shatter it when my improved hearing catches Kierra¡¯s laughter as the shower starts. I stare at the glass shards in a puddle of slowly spreading liquid for several moments, focusing on the conversation above me. I manage to regain my calm when I hear a door close and Kierra moving around the bedroom. ¡°Bell.¡±

    My imp comes running into the room, sliding to a smooth stop by my foot. She looks at me with four wide eyes. ¡°Coo?¡±

    ¡°Clean this mess up. Is Geneva still cooking?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Yes, master Lou.]

    ¡°¡­I suppose she should make an extra plate.¡± This is Kierra¡¯s house. She¡¯s free to invite whoever she wants to dinner, mm. And as the host, I should be welcoming. ¡°I am totally okay with Kierra inviting sexy fire casters home to use our shower,¡± I mutter as I pour myself another drink. At least it¡¯s not a bald wind caster.

    But these games are going to stop. Or at least, my one-sided thrashing will.

    Bell comes back after cleaning up the mess. To thank her, I scoop her into my lap, letting her rest against me as her magic moves through my new body. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Mistress is amazing as always. She makes the physical form into a work of art. And you are much less vulnerable this way.]

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t exactly vulnerable before.¡±

    [Surely not in your origin form but you insist on remaining human.]

    ¡°Not so much anymore, heh.¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    ¡°Ah, here she comes. Down, down.¡±

    She lets out a disappointed coo before scrambling off. A moment later, I hear Kierra on the stairs. Her eyes immediately find me as she makes her way over. I take in her own state, her white shirt immaculate. ¡°Looks like you had fun today.¡±

    ¡°I wonder if I had as much as you. Sneaking off with the pet so often.¡± She drops down next to me. Cocking her head, she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her hair. ¡°You seem¡­different.¡±

    ¡°Surprised you noticed. Thought all of your attention would be on your guest. Didn¡¯t know you and Lady Filagree had gotten so close.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. You know I love a good hunt. As one of the advanced combat instructors, she often coordinates with the guilds. It is amazing how many of her meetings devolve into brawls. The woman has a rare talent for offending people.¡±

    ¡°Or maybe a punchable face.¡±

    ¡°Aw, you almost sound jea¡ª¡±

    My hand snaps out, grabbing her chin and pulling her forward. I smirk at her wide eyes. Didn¡¯t expect me to move that fast, did you? And I don¡¯t have to be concerned about my strength with her.

    ¡°I¡¯m not jealous, Kii. I¡¯m happy you brought a friend over.¡± I peck her lips before letting her go, chuckling at her stunned expression. ¡°A little warning would be nice. What if Geneva had already finished dinner?¡± Or if my plans involved waiting for her in nothing but my dignity and tackling her the moment she stepped through the front door? That would have been awkward. ¡°You did invite her for dinner?¡±

    ¡°I hadn¡¯t.¡± I like the look she¡¯s giving me right now. It¡¯s¡­evaluating. She¡¯s trying to size me up, no longer confident in my next move. More importantly, she seems excited. ¡°I admit, I didn¡¯t think you would be happy with her staying.¡±

    ¡°Heh, so you do remember your promise.¡±

    She smiles broadly. ¡°You had the pet work on you. I like the eyes.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Though there¡¯s more changes than that.¡± I set down my drink and lean backward, beckoning her forward. She shakes her head but swings her legs onto the couch and crawls on top of me. ¡°Want to see?¡±

    ¡°Maybe you need a lesson in manners, dedia. Tempting me so when there¡¯s a guest upstairs.¡±

    I reach up, trailing a finger along one of her long ears, loving the way her eyes narrow in pleasure. I hook an arm over her neck and pull her down, our noses a breath from each other. ¡°That enough to stop you?¡±

    ¡°Is that¡­a challenge?¡±

    I don¡¯t answer with words, closing the distance for a kiss. She moans deliciously as I push my tongue past her lips. A hand starts wandering but I grab it, not wanting her to escalate. That¡¯s my job.

    Someone isn¡¯t happy with that. She tries to break my hold. The feeling of being able to resist her is too good to describe. I can hear and feel her surprised exclamation but I don¡¯t let her escape, chasing her and pulling her back. Holding her there despite her using her magic. At least, for a while. It gets harder to hold her hand still and I have to push her away.

    Kierra stares at me from the other end of the couch, panting. Her eyes are narrowed and her lips parted, the tip of a pink tongue peeking through. I straighten my clothes and grab my drink, taking a sip. ¡°On the other hand, I rather have dinner first. I¡¯m starving for some actual food.¡± Swallowing corpses whole is great for adding mass but boring and tasteless.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather eat you,¡± my wife husks.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t anyone ever tell you not to spoil dinner with dessert? Besides.¡± I hear the shower cut off. ¡°Your guest is about to come down.¡±

    I jump off the couch as she tries to grab me, chuckling as she stares at me with confusion. I give her a mocking grin. ¡°Going to have to do better than that, Kii.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just the eyes. The pet. She¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi, give me some credit here.¡± I down the rest of my drink and reach for the bottle. She tries to grab my wrist and I dart back. She grabs the bottle instead, watching me with a hungry gaze. ¡°Stealing someone¡¯s liquor is just uncouth.¡±

    ¡°Come here, dedia. Let me see you properly.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Bell! Bring me another bottle.¡±

    A few moments later, the imp comes running out of the kitchen, a glass bottle filled with amber liquid held in her tail. Kierra scowls. She snaps off a piece of the table and throws it at Bell, aiming for her delivery. The imp nimbly dodges and holds the bottle up to me.

    ¡°Thank you~¡± I refill my glass before handing it back. I wave a finger at the brutalized furniture. ¡°Good thing you¡¯ve got Mr. Self-Made on a short leash.¡±

    Kierra scoffs as she slams the bottle in her hands on the table.

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-09

    ¡°Temper, temper.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re ready to play. A good start my love but, I¡¯m going to win in the end.¡±

    ¡°Hold that thought,¡± I say, turning to the stairs as Lady Filagree appears wearing one of my wife¡¯s dresses. She¡¯s a lot softer than I thought she¡¯d be, with supple thighs and a plenty of curves. A visage enhanced by the way her loose, damp hair frames her face, taking the edge off her resting glare. I forget that most casters aren¡¯t martial fanatics like my wife. ¡°Lady Filagree. A dress suits you much better than armor if you don¡¯t mind me saying.¡±

    Her sharp eyes go between us, then to the table and its missing piece on the other side of the room, before finally landing on Bell who¡¯s still holding the bottle of Herbanacle. She scoffs and double-times down the rest of the stairs. ¡°Thanks for the shower. I¡¯ll get out of your hair.¡±

    ¡°Whoa, slow down. We¡¯d love for you to stay for dinner. Right?¡±

    Kierra matches my smile. ¡°Of course. The pet has a way in the kitchen. You¡¯ll regret it if you depart.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t look convinced. Luckily, Geneva comes in with impeccable timing, looking adorable in an apron and carrying a wooden spatula. ¡°Dinner is ready if everyone would like to take a seat.¡±

    Pressured by the situation, Lady Filagree sighs and heads for the dining room. I follow, Bell trailing behind me, and Kierra bringing up the rear. Our guest takes a seat at the middle of the table, setting herself up to be equally far away no matter what end we prefer. I counter her strategy by sitting directly across from her, grinning at her frown.

    Kierra drops down next to me. Bell jumps up to set the bottle of Herbanacle on the table before running to the living room for the other glasses. ¡°Would you like some?¡± I ask, holding up an empty glass. ¡°Fair warning, it¡¯s pretty strong.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d love to see what you think is strong.¡±

    I pour a generous amount and slide the glass over. She bravely swallows a mouthful without pause. I wait for her to start hacking but instead, she lets out a pleased hum.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good. Smooth.¡±

    Trust the fire caster to handle a little fire. ¡°Elven brewer.¡±

    ¡°Half,¡± Kierra says. ¡°Owns a bar in the Myriad Zone.¡±

    She motions towards the bottle and I pass it over. ¡°So, is that what the two of you do for fun? Bar hopping?¡±

    ¡°When she isn¡¯t trying to beat immorality into me,¡± I say flippantly. I pause, turning to Kierra. ¡°That reminds me. We haven¡¯t been out anywhere in a while. What with your little club.¡±

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°And your duties as an initiate.¡±

    ¡°I was thinking of exploring the dark side of Quest with my friends. Want to come with?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t want to ruin the mood. Alana gets so nervus around me.¡±

    ¡°With good reason. Alana will be fine. If you want, you can take a friend too. Maybe Lady Filagree.¡± I look at the redhead. ¡°You could even show us a decent spot to find some entertainment.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too young for the entertainment you¡¯re looking for,¡± Lady Filagree scoffs. ¡°The only thing an initiate should be focused on is passing your qualifiers. They will kick you out if you fail, noble or not.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried about those.¡±

    ¡°Then maybe you¡¯re worried about your acolyte years. It¡¯s true you can stay as long as you want once you prove you¡¯re not a complete moron by passing your initiate year but there are only about a dozen free classes. You want to specialize? Go on hunts? Find the connections that people spend an obscene amount of money to attend this place for? You need to be invited into an instructor¡¯s course.¡± She chuckles. ¡°You don¡¯t make a good enough first impression for that.¡±

    I fake offense. ¡°Ridiculous. Who could resist my charms?¡±

    Her snort of derision is answer enough. ¡°Everyone wants the geniuses. You¡¯re not one or I would have heard of you. That means, if you want any chance of being recommended into one of the better courses, you must impress them at the qualifiers. It¡¯s not enough to pass. You have to exceed all expectations.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. Luckily, I don¡¯t have plans to enter any of the advanced courses.¡±

    ¡°Except Advanced Foundation.¡±

    I turn to glare at my wife who grins. ¡°If I want to take Advanced Foundation, I¡¯m sure her recommendation will be enough.¡±

    ¡°Ah, right. Summoner. You¡¯ll be trying to enter their Hall. Good luck with that.¡±

    ¡°¡­what do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re not that innocent. Look, you¡¯ve got two elementals following you around. Both of them are intelligent and possess reasonable strength. Stronger than you, for sure, which says a lot about your skill.¡±

    I¡¯m flattered. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Not finished. The point is, you¡¯re capable. That means one of two things for you; either you fall in line with the Grand Summoner or he does his best to push you out.¡±

    ¡°Push me out?¡±

    ¡°He has the final say about what happens in that Hall. He can restrict your access to their records, make sure the instructors snub you, cut you out from their resources. The usual dirty tricks. He¡¯ll use anything he can to stop you from stealing acclaim he wants for himself and his proteges. He has to. The Hall wants results.¡±

    ¡°Is he going to try and murder me in my sleep?¡±

    ¡°What? No, of course not!¡±

    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s fine then.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re not worried?¡±

    ¡°No? I mean, like you said, I don¡¯t expect anything less.¡±

    ¡°How do you plan to advance as a summoner if all of your teachers are actively sabotaging you?¡± she bites out, sounding a bit offended. Oh, was I supposed to cower and thank her for her warning? Saints, why are there so many dominant personalities around me? Where¡¯s the delicate flower that¡¯ll faint at the first sign of adversity? Cling to my arm and pout cutely when I don¡¯t show her enough attention? Call my name sweetly?

    Sigh.

    ¡°Firstly, Lady Filagree, I am a Tome. I should take offense that you would even suggest there is something anyone here can teach me about summoning. Not only because after a certain point it becomes a matter of style rather than technique, but because I¡¯m a great summoner. End of.¡±

    Kierra chuckles.

    ¡°Second, the only thing they could possibly withhold from me is their records, which all I can say to that is petty. I¡¯m from the oldest summoner family in the kingdom. I have plenty of records of my own.¡± Not to mention those from the Grimoire family and everything in Geneva¡¯s head. ¡°And third¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah, now you¡¯re just showing off.¡± The redhead downs her drink. ¡°Fine, forget I said anything.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the warning.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-10

    The soft thumps of Geneva¡¯s hooves on the wooden floor interrupt the conversation. She comes in carrying three plates of steaming food. Lady Filagree, who has been looking rather bored with the situation, suddenly sits up, putting her glass down for the first time since I slid the bottle of Herbanacle toward her.

    ¡°Enjoy,¡± she says after setting them down, quickly disappearing.

    The instructor shows her background as she promptly picks up a fork and knife, gobbling the food with impeccable etiquette. Chuckling, I pick up my own utensils, but am quickly distracted as Kierra leans toward me.

    ¡°You smell even better,¡± she whispers.

    ¡°Eat,¡± I mumble back, more focused on my food. I was serious about wanting dinner, especially when it comes to Geneva¡¯s cooking.

    ¡°Oh? When you¡¯ve gone through such extreme lengths to attract me?¡± She moves closer, practically shoving her nose against my neck. ¡°Do you think I don¡¯t recognize the response of my own body? I¡¯m this close to taking you right now.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t meant to be a secret.¡±

    I hear Kierra hum curiously. Then her soft lips brush my skin, followed by a quick swipe of her tongue. I almost drop my fork in shock. Crazy elf. She truly doesn¡¯t care about our witness. Lady Filagree is oblivious, absorbed in the food, but she won¡¯t be for long if Kierra keeps it up. Hmph, she¡¯s still underestimating me. Does she think this is enough to shame me? I¡¯ve learned from the best.

    When a hand brushes over my stomach before trailing down to my thighs, I open my legs to give her better access. The fingers pause before continuing their journey. Her mouth teases my nape, sharp nips mixed in with her gentle kisses as I continue eating my dinner.

    ¡°Oi.¡±

    I look up to Lady Filagree, who¡¯s watching us with a slight frown. ¡°Did you perverts just invite me here to watch your sex life? Cause if so, I¡¯m going.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Sure you don¡¯t want to stay? Not even for seconds?¡±

    I push Kierra¡¯s plate across the table. She clearly doesn¡¯t care about it anymore. The same can¡¯t be said for the instructor. She¡¯s practically drooling as she breathes in deeply. Then she pulls it closer with a grunt and digs in.

    With the pretense gone, Kierra turns her full attention to me. Her other hand joins the action, crawling up my shirt to fondle my chest. Her panting breaths tickle my skin as her kisses move closer to my face. I stop her with a hand when her lips brush my cheek, dropping my knife to put a finger against her lips. She catches it between her teeth, teasing it with her tongue while giving me a sultry gaze. I feel my knees shake. And maybe I speed up my forkfuls.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect this.¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    The redhead points to my wife who is currently sucking on my finger like it¡¯s her favorite candy.

    ¡°Ah. Well, what can I say? I¡¯m blessed with an affectionate wife.¡±

    ¡°I would have expected it to be the other way around.¡± She stares at Kierra for a moment before shaking her head and pouring herself another glass of the Herbanacle. ¡°I watched that elf lift a grown man with one hand and throw him into a wall. Now she¡¯s drooling like a whore when a merchant comes through the door with a ring on each finger.¡±

    ¡°Descriptive.¡± I turn my head and my elf meets my gaze. Mm, she¡¯s not at the point where she¡¯s completely lost her mind but her face is heavily flushed. She tries to steal a kiss but I dodge, snickering at her annoyed hiss.

    ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m going to leave before she pulls down your pants.¡± She stands up and downs her drink. ¡°Thanks for the food. As much as I hate the idea of watching a bunch of kids getting their kicks, bring something like this along and I can tolerate you flaunting your wife for a night.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s great. Feel free to take the bottle with you.¡±

    She smiles for the first time as she picks up the bottle. ¡°You¡¯re not bad, Tome.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean I can call you Miss Alyssa?¡± I grin as she scowls. ¡°Lady Filagree is a mouthful. And not suitable amongst friends.¡±

    She scoffs, pulling the bottle closer as she stomps from the room. ¡°Tell the elf I¡¯ll bring her clothes back clean.¡±

    ¡°But she¡¯s right¡ª¡± I don¡¯t get to finish before I suddenly have a lap full of elf.

    ¡°Lou¡­¡± she breathes.

    I feel her magic course through me but I relax into it, letting her have her way. Her ardor cools a little as her brows furrow. ¡°What is¡­I¡¯ve never seen anything like this. Everything is so strange. None of this should be able to co-exist in the same body.¡±

    ¡°Ah, hold on.¡± I lift her off me and get to my feet. ¡°If you¡¯re going to do that, I¡¯m going to take a bath first.¡±

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-11

    Kierra follows me into the bath, refusing to let me escape. Anyone observing her caring attention as she washes me with dedication worthy of a ballad would think her a wonderfully caring lover. They¡¯d have to be in my position to feel the air of menace surrounding her. This isn¡¯t a wife caring for her wife. This is a hunter trapping their prey, making sure it has no avenues of escape.

    She goes as far as to wrap my towel around me before following me into the bedroom. I lay down face first on the sheets, surrendering myself to her. Playing the perfect prey to lure in my predator. ¡°Do your worst.¡±

    I feel her settle over my waist, hands lightly trailing over my back. I close my eyes as she massages my lower back, letting the movements along with the warmth of her mana relax me. ¡°Having fun?¡± I ask, after she¡¯d been quiet for several minutes.

    ¡°This is very interesting. I assume these must be creatures from another realm but¡­it¡¯s hard to focus.¡± Her hands move to my waist and pause. ¡°And what is this?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you find out?¡±

    Before I can blink, I¡¯m flipped over. Kierra is entirely focused on my navel, the tips of her fingers giving off a faint green glow. I can tell when she figures it out as she looks up with an unreadable expression. I grin at her.

    ¡°How?¡± she whispers.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to be more specific,¡± I say, wiggling a bit to test how secure her hold is. ¡°Are you asking how it was designed? Or are you asking¡ª¡±

    I pause as she slides off me, pushing my legs apart as she settles between them. Her eyes are focused on my sex with a rare focus I¡¯ve only ever seen during her hunts in the Enchanted Forest. I suck in a sharp breath as a hand teases my clit, which is not so normal anymore.

    ¡°Nnngh!¡± Despite my grit teeth, I can¡¯t hold back my pleasurable sounds as I experience one of the new features of my body.

    At first glance, the pink button just seems a little bigger and more red than usual. However, the more it¡¯s teased, the more it pushes out, revealing it¡¯s just the head of my new organ. Dozens of new muscles push and contract, easing it from its hood. My heartbeat is slow but powerful, pumping blood south until my cock is stiff and engorged.

    Everything is working as planned but there¡¯s one thing.

    This thing is fucking sensitive! Saints above give me strength, just feeling the air brush against me is enough to make me whimper. What did that damn succubus do?

    Fuck, I¡¯m going to embarrass myself by cumming the second I¡¯m inside her, aren¡¯t I?

    I look at my wife nervously, said nerves instantly multiplying. ¡°Kii?¡±

    I don¡¯t know why I bother. With her slightly parted lips, hooded eyes, and heavily blushing face, her messy expression says that reason has long departed. She looks almost drunk as she lowers her head, dragging her tongue from the base of my cock to the head.

    My body tenses as I just manage to hold back from climaxing from that alone. Evidence of my excitement shows, clear precum leaking from the swollen tip, dark veins along my member standing out prominently as it continues to swell, nearly matching the size of her beloved trolls. Kierra licks up every drop, tongue swirling over the head of my cock. Then she suddenly takes me into her mouth.

    All my restraint snaps as I squeal. A warm pleasure moves two ways, going through my organ and squirting out as hot spunk down her throat while also moving up through my body and causing my head to spin. I groan, but even this is different.

    Normally, my peaks leave me feeling content but drained. Rather than drained, my heart is pounding and my body is flushed, eager for more. Never mind going limp, my cock is as stiff as rock. Heh, I might not have learned endurance but I¡¯ve got ingrained stamina to make up for it.

    Something I¡¯m sure Kierra appreciates as she hasn¡¯t stopped sucking me off, head bobbing up and down as she works more of me into her throat. Her hands pull and caress my thighs, instinctively pulling me closer, striving to get that much closer to swallowing me.

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    Who am I to deny her?

    Grinning, I place my hands on either side of her head and carefully rock my hips. I slowly grow more comfortable, my movements becoming more rough. Pretty soon, I¡¯m fucking her mouth, panting like a dog in heat. Before I know it, I¡¯m cumming again, moaning in delight.

    Kierra¡¯s nails dig into my thigh and her throat works, swallowing my spunk down while her tongue caresses my cock. All the while I¡¯m still working myself deeper. All the way until I¡¯m sheathed in her throat, her nose touching my navel as I bottom out. I hear her gag once but then she stops. Ohh, that¡¯s a terribly wonderful way to use the physical affinity.

    It seems releasing the pressure can make me last longer as I don¡¯t immediately blow my next load as she pulls back before swallowing my dick again. Fuck, it feels like she¡¯s trying to force me deeper as her throat works, the wet walls constricting like¡¯s she¡¯s trying to milk me. Which might not be far from the truth. Every part of me is designed to be addictive for her, to make her lose her mind with lust. She¡¯s sucking me desperately, like she¡¯s trying to squeeze out the last drop of water in the middle of a drought.

    I growl as she grabs my legs, gripping my thighs as she raises my hips from the bed. ¡°You¡¯re fucking thirsty, aren¡¯t you?¡± I pant. ¡°You¡¯ll keep draining me till you drown in my cum, won¡¯t you? Though you¡¯d probably love that.¡±

    She moans. I can¡¯t tell if she¡¯s responding to me or just enjoying herself. My climaxes are farther apart and harder to come by, but they¡¯re more intense. It means I can relax into the bed and let my eyes slip shut and enjoy the mounting tension. I can hear her labored breathing, her nose flaring as she refuses to let go of my cock for even a moment, her eyes unfocused. Drool slips from the corner of her mouth, sliding down her chin, and her hair is wild from where I teased it earlier. Damn, but she¡¯s hot when she¡¯s messy like this.

    ¡°Almost¡­there,¡± I grunt. A hand goes to my chest, roughly teasing a breast as I get close. She can feel it too. One of her hands leaves my thigh, going around my waist while the other moves between them. Her fingers trail beneath my cock, pausing for a moment as she traces my familiar slit, likely expecting something else giving what she¡¯s choking on at the moment.

    Just a moment though, as two fingers deftly push into me, drawing an ecstatic moan.

    ¡°Harder!¡± I hiss as she works them in and out of my pussy. This new body can take a lot more abuse. The more strength she uses, the better it feels. ¡°Work for it, baby.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t disappoint, adding a third finger and curling them as she blows me. The tension snaps and I grab her with my free hand, holding her in place as I erupt. And I mean erupt, the force of my ejaculation twice as strong as before. Kierra¡¯s throat noticeably moves as she swallows it down, her lashes fluttering as she lets out excited whimpers.

    It takes a bit of force to escape her grasp, pushing her down so I¡¯m lying atop her.

    She looks up at me with hooded eyes, lips wet and glossy with passion. When I look into her heated gaze, I see my own face, and it adds an undeniable thrill. I¡¯ve brought her to this state before by indulging in her forbidden lusts and it¡¯s a powerful feeling. Holding the key to her body, it¡¯s a bitter victory. Or maybe an incomplete one. After all, I¡¯m borrowing something else¡¯s appeal.

    This time, it¡¯s just me. A new me but me all the same time. When she thinks about her favorite, I¡¯m always the answer. There can never be anyone better than me for her.

    Knowing that is¡­

    I lick my lips as she bares herself to me, her usual blunder and viciousness stripped away. Her look is slightly aggrieved, as if wondering why I¡¯m not already ravishing her. I chuckle at the thought. A part of me wishes I could record this moment forever, save this feeling for all the times the women in my life pull one over me. I¡¯ll just have to do my best to remember it.

    I trail a hand over her smooth skin, smiling at the goosebumps I see rise as I brush a hand over her stomach and dip a finger between her thighs. There¡¯s no need to go any further to know she¡¯s ready. Saints, is sucking me off enough to get her this excited? ¡°Deviant.¡±

    She coos in agreement, her arms coming up to wrap around my neck. I let her pull me down, kissing across her chest as I pull her legs apart. They cross over my back, reeling me in. ¡°Don¡¯t hurry,¡± I whisper as she grinds against me.

    ¡°Lou¡­¡± she gasps. ¡°Give me¡­¡±

    ¡°You can beg louder if you want.¡± I nip at her, enjoying the way she shudders. Heh, part of my secretions makes her more sensitive. It should have given me an overwhelming advantage but now it simply levels the playing field.

    ¡°Please,¡± she calls in a soft and sweet voice that breaks toward the end.

    ¡°Louder.¡±

    ¡°L¡ª¡±

    I cut her off with a kiss. Her hands become frantic, moving all over my body as her hips try to push a faster rhythm. She makes up for words with whines and whimpers. Mm, I think I¡¯ve had enough bullying her for now.

    I grab my cock, which is incredibly distracting. I¡¯m stroking myself before I realize it, the feeling dangerously good. Coming back to my senses is only possible because I know there¡¯s something even better waiting for me.

    I guide myself to her entrance, grinning almost maniacally at her sharp intake of breath. I intend to take it slowly but the next thing I know, our hips meet as I bottom out. Kierra moans in satisfaction having finally gotten what she wants and I¡¯m of the same mind. It doesn¡¯t take long before I¡¯m just as lost to the pleasure, our voices mingling together and echoing through the room as we explore my new body.

 Mini Arc 3: New Form-12

    My eyes snap open, my body tense as I search for what woke me. I relax as I meet a pink gaze.

    ¡°Good morning, my summoner,¡± Geneva says.

    I grunt in response, resting my head on my wife¡¯s bare shoulder. Kierra doesn¡¯t stir, her deep breaths a clue to her heavy sleep. The room brightens as my succubus goes around opening curtains, tail swishing as she tidies the room. I watch her with narrowed eyes.

    The conquering of my wife is going smoothly. She¡¯s next on the list, but I¡¯m at a lost. I know her weaknesses, her bottomless hunger for power and her pride. Exploiting them is an entirely different matter. I wouldn¡¯t be as far along with Kierra if not for her help. Besides, she knows everything I¡¯m thinking right now, doesn¡¯t she? Should I have her stay out of my head? Ah, but that is limiting so much of what she can do.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯ll be spending the day in bed. I¡¯d suggest at least having breakfast before you continue indulging. Your new body is quite strong but it still requires fuel.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± My victory here is no excuse to get complacent. The exact opposite. Kierra will no doubt quickly devise a strategy against my new form. I have to become stronger to keep her on her toes. One upping my wife might be one of the most ridiculous reasons for becoming stronger but there it is. ¡°We¡¯ll resume our usual lessons. Just give me a minute.¡± I pull my wife closer.

    ¡°How admirable. I have many theories about your elemental form that I would like to test. Breakfast?¡±

    ¡°Give me¡­half an hour.¡±

    I close my eyes as she leaves the room, enjoying the quiet and taking a moment to think. While shapeshifting is a great boon, my greatest potential lies in my seven affinities. My prime form makes me one of the strongest beings, physically, on the continent. It¡¯s time to focus on my magic.

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    The question is, do I want to reveal my other affinities?

    From the moment I returned home, exposure has been one of my greatest fears. Showing off another affinity is one of the easiest ways to do that. To my knowledge, it should be impossible. People will flock to me to learn my secret, hoping to become stronger. They¡¯ll shower me with favor, hoping to lure me to their sides. And when I refuse them, they¡¯ll turn belligerent. They¡¯ll do whatever it takes to learn my secrets and steal my power for themselves. Forget royals. Everyone who is anyone will have their eyes on me. It¡¯s the kind of thing to wake sleeping dragons.

    Being a low-born noble taught to avoid conflict with the powers of the continent, that was enough to make me incredibly cautious. To go above and beyond to hide my abilities.

    The whole debacle with the prince forced me to confront one of my greatest fears. I realized that they might be a tad exaggerated. When seriously considering the threat he is, and truly accepting my new identity, there is very little I need to fear. Again, an entire army marching against us would be a problem. Maybe. But why would they do that?

    Suppose someone sees me doing something I shouldn¡¯t. Sure, they¡¯ll be shocked but no one¡¯s going to track me down and spirt me away in the middle of the night. Diplomacy comes before armed conflict. Who knows, I might even make some interesting new allies. Kierra certainly wouldn¡¯t have taken the interest in me that she did if not for my abilities. They also helped me hook one of the most power succubi ever documented.

    As for my eventual enemies, they¡¯ll underestimate me. How could they not? Gaining an affinity is one thing but they couldn¡¯t they possibly understand the extent of the devastation I¡¯m capable of. I¡¯m sure someone¡¯s considered the threat of Kierra and made plans to counter her but no one knows about my succubi. Not to mention all the succubi contracted to the Grimoire family.

    It¡¯s hard to admit but I think I might¡¯ve been holding myself back. Geneva can teach me spellcasting but there are countless other opportunities in the Hall that I can¡¯t take advantage of if I¡¯m expending all my energy trying to hide.

    It may be a brief boost to my ego triggered from a night of topping my wife but I feel ready to take on the world. Not literally, saints save me, but I¡¯m definitely ready to show the world the new me. And maybe spread a little of that chaos I promised Cosmo, hehe.

 Side Story-Silvari 01

    ¡°Over here, boss!¡±

    Alyssa¡¯s eyes moved through the restaurant, locking onto the grinning young man making a fool of himself in the subdued atmosphere. She stomped forward, ignoring the judgmental looks from those upset by the breach of manners, but glared at him as she took the empty seat at the table. ¡°Haven¡¯t I told you to quit yelling all the time? They¡¯ll kick us out and I¡¯m starving.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d cook for you?¡± He winked only to wince a moment later when his shin was kicked. ¡°You can¡¯t be too aggressive boss or you¡¯ll never find a husband.¡±

    ¡°What do I need a husband for when you¡¯ll be my lackey all your life?¡± she said, grinning at his grimace.

    Beside the man, a woman giggled, hazel eyes shining with mirth. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for having those kinds of interests, Lane,¡± she said with a honeyed voice. ¡°Alyssa¡­I¡¯m not surprised.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off,¡± the redhead said without heat, noticing a waiter approaching their table, fresh-faced young man in a finely tailored suit that made the Hall¡¯s standard robes look like rags. He bowed before them with a hand over his chest, straightening up with a perfectly crafted smile. ¡°Lady Filagree,¡± he said, meeting her eyes briefly before shifting his gaze beside her. ¡°Sir Bruce. Mr. Macklemore. Lady Oriole. The Grand Dining Hall is honored to host you.¡±

    Alyssa couldn¡¯t help a huff of displeasure, especially when she noticed her assistant and the alchemist on the other side of the table lapping up the attention. As the only restaurant on the island sponsored by the Hall, she understood why the establishment made of show of welcoming their sponsors.

    She had grown accustomed to the displays of respect her position as an instructor garnered, maybe even liked the deference a bit, but this was one of the times it was tedious. She came to the Dining Hall because she wanted a good meal, not to preen in competition with other members of staff to see who could make the waiters lick the most shit off their shoes.

    ¡°How can we serve you today?¡± the waiter asked once he was done with his spiel.

    ¡°My usual.¡±

    ¡°The same,¡± Bruce said.

    ¡°And a bottle of your best whiskey.¡± She looked to Brutus and the two combat instructors shared a nod. ¡°Two glasses, no ice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have the house special!¡± Lane said.

    ¡°Tonight¡¯s special. For the wine, I¡¯ll leave it in your capable hands,¡± the alchemist said, staring at the waiter with narrowed eyes. She grinned as the faintest flush dusted his cheeks. ¡°As for dessert¡­what would you recommend?¡±

    ¡°The chef has created a new recipe for chocolate cake. I highly recommend it.¡±

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    ¡°You seem to be a young man with good taste. I¡¯ll look forward to your service.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is mine.¡± There was a beat where he indulged her gaze but a moment is all his professionalism could allow. ¡°I¡¯ll be back with your drinks shortly.¡± He bowed to them again before walking off, moving faster than his measured steps would imply.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t he a little young for you, Cynthia?¡± Alyssa said, making no effort to hide the accusation in her voice.

    The alchemist raised a brow. ¡°What are you saying? I¡¯m forever a maiden of eighteen.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Alyssa fought the juvenile urge to roll her eyes. Alchemy had uses in many fields, especially those related to warfare. From its myriad uses, one of the greatest prodigies of its art chose to focus her attention on the cosmetic value of the practice, pioneering potions and salves that kept the vain woman youthful. Something the fire caster didn¡¯t have much room to judge as she was one of Cynthia¡¯s customers. Nearly every woman of the Hall was. ¡°It¡¯s creepy.¡±

    ¡°Better than being a prude.¡±

    ¡°Taking offense to a woman seducing a boy a third of her age does not make me a prude.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on. Here you are, a young, beautiful woman but instead of going out, you assemble this sad little group every Saintsday to drink away your frustrations.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re always here too,¡± the fire caster pointed out.

    Cynthia looked at her pitifully. ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m a good friend.¡± Then she brightened up. ¡°And overindulgence isn¡¯t good for the body. Supplements can only get a woman so far.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a beast.¡±

    ¡°Thank you~¡± Cynthia leaned forward, putting her chin in her hand. ¡°Really, you should let me take you out into the city. Or to the Ball! You¡¯d love it there.¡±

    ¡°I hate balls.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that kind of¡ª¡± Cynthia sighed and turned to Lane. ¡°Lane, help me out. Why haven¡¯t you already tamed this woman? Everyone knows you¡¯re practically already her wife.¡±

    ¡°Oi, what does that mean? I¡¯m not her wife!¡±

    ¡°You cook, you clean, you do her laundry¡ª¡±

    ¡°All things a good disciple should do!¡± He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. ¡°Don¡¯t joke like that, Miss Cynthia. You think I would survive that? Men have to treasure their lives.¡±

    ¡°I can hear you,¡± the redhead snapped.

    ¡°Sorry boss,¡± he said quickly, sitting straight with an unrepentant smile.

    Alyssa shook her head. If the disrespectful little idiot wasn¡¯t so useful, she¡¯d have burned his face off already. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their drinks, distracting her from her homicidal annoyance. He swiftly placed down a bottle filled with brown liquid and two small glasses. Then he turned his full attention to Cynthia, slowly popping the cork of the wine bottle and filling her glass, the two having a conversation through their heated gazes.

    Alyssa ignored them as she poured a finger of whiskey, sipping it. Her lips immediately turned down.

    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Bruce asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± She took another sip, grunted, and put the glass down.

    The waiter, hearing a dissatisfied customer, snapped out of his game with the alchemist and turned to Alyssa with worried eyes. ¡°Lady Filagree? Is there something wrong with your drink? I can have the bottle replaced.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine.¡± She scowled when he didn¡¯t move. ¡°Don¡¯t you have other people to serve?¡±

    ¡°Of course, excuse me.¡± He hurried off, glancing over his shoulder at their table.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done it now,¡± Cynthia sighed. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me you plan on launching a complaint. The poor boy will be thrown off the side of the island before he can blink.¡±

    ¡°I already said it was fine,¡± she said quickly but she didn¡¯t make a move to touch her glass.

    ¡°Want me to order you something else, boss? They¡¯re juices are pretty good.¡±

    ¡°Do I look like I¡¯m twelve? Since you people clearly don¡¯t understand Common¡­¡± Alyssa pushed her glass with a finger and sighed. ¡°I showed the elf the guilds yesterday.¡±

    ¡°Oh hoh?¡± Cynthia leaned forward, eyes alight. ¡°Do share.¡±

 Side Story-Silvari 02

    ¡°I would if you¡¯d give me a chance.¡± Alyssa kicked out at the alchemist¡¯s chair, prompting her to lean back. A quick glance showed she had the attention of the rest of the table. ¡°It¡¯s not that big of a deal. She asked for help so I introduced her to a few people. You know how those bastards are. Things got a little rough. She brought me back to her house to borrow a shower.¡±

    Lane, who had given the conversation half an ear, perked up alongside Cynthia. ¡°You got an in with the elf and didn¡¯t tell me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you now, aren¡¯t I? And it¡¯s not an in. I had a few cuts so she let me wash up and borrow a change of clothes. And what¡¯s with that expression? She¡¯s married.¡±

    ¡°For a woman like that? Little thing.¡±

    Beside him, Cynthia nodded. ¡°I agree with Little Lane. I sense a kindred spirit.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve told you about calling me that!¡±

    Alyssa huffed. Normally, she would berate them about badmouthing Kierra, even though they didn¡¯t mean to, but they were quite close to the truth. Besides, the elf was the last person in the Hall who needed defending. ¡°Anyway, once I finished, they invited me to dinner.¡±

    ¡°The elf and her initiate wife.¡± Cynthia¡¯s eyes glimmered.

    ¡°What a waste,¡± Lane mumbled. ¡°Two women taking themselves off the market like that. The saints must be crying.¡±

    ¡°Why do you care? It¡¯s not like you¡¯d have a chance with either one of them.¡±

    ¡°What do you take me for? I wouldn¡¯t put my hands on some initiate. Is she even an adult?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d go for the brat before the elf.¡±

    The whole table took a sharp breath, including Sir Bruce who¡¯d remained quiet the whole time. ¡°¡­what?¡± she asked, meeting their surprised gazes with growing confusion.

    ¡°Ally, Ally, Ally!¡± The alchemist was almost vibrating with excitement. ¡°I think this is the first time you¡¯ve ever mentioned being interested in anyone!¡± Beside her, Lane shifted uncomfortably, his brows furrowing. He opened his mouth to say something but the alchemist slapped a hand over his mouth without turning around. ¡°Tell me¡ª¡±

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    ¡°Don¡¯t jump out of your seat. The brat¡¯s a summoner and she¡¯s contracted a succubus who can cook her tail off. Makes the plates here feel like the slop they served in the order.¡±

    Her comment was poorly timed, being overheard by the waiter who came to check on their table. His lips twitched as he resisted a frown. ¡°A chef that surpasses the Dining Hall? We would love to meet such an individual.¡±

    ¡°Calm your tits, no one¡¯s trying to challenge your restaurant.¡± Alyssa danced around the topic until he left, letting out a deep sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t see Lourianne bringing her succubus by to cook for other people. She seems the selfish type that keeps her treasures close. Should have seen the two of them together.¡±

    ¡°Did you walk in on something awkward?¡± Cynthia asked.

    ¡°Walk in? Please. They started in the same room.¡± The fire caster took a hesitant sip of her drink, sighed, and took another. ¡°That elf was all over her. Surprised me given Kierra¡¯s strength but looks like she¡¯s the pampered wife.¡±

    ¡°Wow. Any chance of you wrangling me a dinner invite? For this supposedly amazing food if nothing else.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not that, ah, actually¡­¡±

    ¡°Wait, seriously?¡±

    ¡°What about me?¡± Lane asked hopefully.

    ¡°Definitely not you,¡± she snapped immediately.

    ¡°Ah, come on, boss!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not me.¡± Alyssa finished her drink and refilled the glass. ¡°Blame that worm swinging between your legs.¡± She chuckled at his flush. ¡°Lourianne¡¯s a pervert who¡¯s only interested in women. I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯d welcome Cynthia with open arms, but she¡¯d care less about you.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯d step out on Kierra? I don¡¯t know whether to call her brave or stupid,¡± Cynthia said.

    Alyssa snorted at the woman¡¯s vain smile. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I said she¡¯s a pervert, not an idiot.¡±

    She very much doubted Lourianne Tome was the fool she first appeared to be. Unlike most of the kingdom, she spent time around summoners and had a comfortable knowledge of elementals. For one to be as competent as the succubus called Geo, it spoke highly to the girl¡¯s capabilities that she apparently wanted to hide. Or at the very least, not flaunt to the whole of the Hall.

    ¡°She loosely invited me to a bar that serves the best drink I¡¯ve ever had and I doubt she¡¯d mind me bringing a tagalong.¡±

    ¡°Shame I wouldn¡¯t be welcome,¡± Bruce said.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Alyssa wouldn¡¯t have minded the stoic man¡¯s company, but his company didn¡¯t amount to much. He was the quietest drinking partner she had, which also made him her favorite. ¡°I¡¯ll bring you back a bottle.¡±

    ¡°Ally, I love you!¡± Cynthia crowed. ¡°Do you know how many alchemists have tried to get close to Kierra? I¡¯ve heard the elves have an entire country of alchemists. If I can get my hands on their recipes, guhehehe.¡± Her charming persona was marred by her greedy smile.

    ¡°Does that mean I get a discount?¡± Alyssa asked drolly, smirking as the other woman¡¯s smile turned into grimace. ¡°Didn¡¯t think so.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sure we can¡ªoh hoh? Who do we have here?¡±

    Alyssa followed her gaze, grimacing when she spotted a graceful man with a shaved head and silver robes approaching their table.

 Side Story-Silvari 03

    Aurelius smiled serenely as he reached the table. ¡°Greetings. I couldn¡¯t help but overhear your conversation.¡±

    No one had any illusions that the air caster had used a spell to eavesdrop on them but they maintained polite expressions. He was a master caster. The title meant more than a large mana pool, though the minimum five hundred coefficient meant decades of practice. There existed casters with the required coefficient who never received the rank of master because more than anything, it implied mastery. With enough power, any wind caster could blow apart a city¡¯s wall. Only a master could silence a city by holding the air hostage.

    Theoretically, anyone with the title of master could rival Dunwayne, though the Harvest Hero could be considered a master amongst master. He was powerful enough to be owed a certain amount of respect. Even from Alyssa, who didn¡¯t pay mind to such matters. Enough to not send him away despite her impression of the man lingering somewhere between murderous thieves and her oppressive, bastard of a father.

    ¡°What do you want, Aurelius?¡±

    ¡°A simple chat.¡± He turned as a waiter arrived at his side with a chair, setting it at the table before bowing away. The air caster brazenly sat with them, ignoring the awkward atmosphere. ¡°I heard you mention Kierra.¡±

    ¡°And we all know about your unhealthy obsession with her.¡± Alyssa refilled her glass with a sigh. A part of her felt bad for the man. He seemed intent on capturing the elf¡¯s attention and it was destined to fail. She¡¯d made as much clear to him but Aurelius refused to give up.

    At first, she had been ambivalent to his pursuit. Perhaps she felt a little bad for Lourianne. No one wanted to be cuckolded and it hardly seemed a fair competition. Aurelius had money, power, and prestige. More importantly, he seemed to have genuine interest in Kierra herself more than what she represented. To anyone from the outside looking in, it seemed a foregone conclusion.

    Having seen the interactions between the unusual couple, Alyssa¡¯s pity shifted to her peer. There was no space between the two women for Aurelius to step into. He was poised to make a fool of himself, a blow she feared would hit especially deep because of his determination. ¡°So? What did you want?¡±

    Aurelius sighed. ¡°I erred in the grandmaster¡¯s office. My accusation against Lourianne Tome was premature and unjustified. She was correct in saying that it was uncouth for someone of my position to accuse her of crimes without proof.¡±

    ¡°No kidding. Especially when she¡¯s innocent.¡±

    ¡°All I can say is that the possibility occurred to me and I was so offended that I let my outrage cloud my judgment. To be fair, I fully believe Miss Tome to be capable of such.¡± He frowned. ¡°She does not strike me as honorable. Or pleasant.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you embarrassed to be badmouthing an initiate behind her back?¡± Cynthia said with a raised brow. ¡°For shame, Aurelius.¡±

    ¡°You have not met her.¡±

    She scoffed. ¡°So far, this girl sounds absolutely delightful. Ally, do you think she will pass her end of year assessments? Does she have any interest in alchemy? I¡¯d be more than happy to have her as an assistant if it means getting the goods on the elven continent.¡±

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    ¡°You could at least pretend to not have ulterior motives.¡±

    Aurelius cleared his throat and Alyssa looked at him with a frown. ¡°As I was saying, I would like the chance to apologize for my behavior but Kierra is¡­avoiding me. I was hoping you could mediate.¡±

    ¡°Saints damnation, why would I want to do that?¡± was what the fire caster immediately thought but she managed to curb her reaction to ¡°That sounds like a pain. I don¡¯t actually know her that well.¡±

    ¡°Well enough to be invited for dinner.¡±

    ¡°My cloak is only big enough cover my ass, so to speak.¡±

    ¡°What did you do to get on her bad side?¡± Cynthia asked. ¡°Kierra¡¯s so agreeable, it¡¯s hard to imagine. Did you feel her up?¡±

    ¡°Nothing of the sort.¡±

    ¡°No, he simply declared that her marriage was a sham and wanted to arrest her wife for the illegal use of the mental affinity,¡± Bruce said without looking at the man.

    Lane winced while Cynthia looked a horrified. ¡°Saints, were you trying to get that girl killed? After that mess in the capital, the crown is particularly stringent on mental casters. If they thought it had been used on someone as important as Kierra¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he understands exactly what he did,¡± Alyssa said, unable to keep from glaring at him.

    Aurelius accepted it all without a twitch in his smile. ¡°As I said, my emotions got away from me. Which is why I¡¯m so eager to rectify my mistake before feelings are left to fester. If there is something I could offer you for your assistance¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to bribe me to¡ª¡± Alyssa paused, taking a deep breath. Then she let it out, leaning toward the air caster. ¡°Actually, you know what? I¡¯ll put in a good word for you if you answer a question for me. Why are you so hot for her? I¡¯ve seen plenty of women throw themselves at you and you barely gave them a glance. There was a bet you swung the other way.¡±

    Aurelius chuckled. ¡°No, I don¡¯t swing the other way. And as for your question, isn¡¯t it enough that I like her?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but what about her? She¡¯s good-looking sure, but I didn¡¯t think she was your type. Loud, violent, brash, arrogant.¡±

    ¡°Loud and brash can also be called confident. Violent? A fierce desire to improve herself and others. Arrogant? She has the right. She is also smart, adventurous, good-humored, and caring. There are many things to like about her.¡±

    ¡°¡­boring.¡± She was sure that the man was hiding something from her, but it¡¯d be boorish to persist further. ¡°I¡¯ll let her know you were asking about her but that¡¯s the most I can do.¡±

    ¡°I overheard something about a gathering¡ª¡±

    ¡°And you heard what I said to the others, didn¡¯t you? How welcome do you think you¡¯d be?¡±

    ¡°If you could simply pass on the details, I¡¯d like to test the theory for myself.¡±

    Alyssa weighed the value of a favor from Aurelius to the succubus¡¯ cooking and more of the Herbanacle.

    Then she kicked Aurelius chair, making it wobble. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t see him flailing, a burst of air stabilizing him the moment the chair tilted, his smile unflappable. ¡°Fuck off and get your own invitation.¡± She wasn¡¯t ruining her chances at a good meal to help someone chase a married woman.

    ¡°Are you sure? I know you¡¯ve been meaning to organize a new class with the aim of taking students out on hunts and short expeditions. Ambitious. That¡¯s what guilds are for. However, I could speak a few words in the right ear.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡± She swallowed the words slimy bastard. ¡°Don¡¯t go out of your way. It¡¯s a matter for the combat instructors. And you seemed tied up in fruitless pursuits, so I doubt you have the time to do something useful.¡±

    He chuckled and stood from his chair. ¡°I suppose I should leave while things are still civil. Sir Bruce, Lane, Miss Cynthia.¡±

    A series of half-hearted goodbyes followed him as he left the table. Lane let out a sigh of relief once he¡¯d gone. ¡°That guy gives me the creeps. The way he looks at people isn¡¯t right.¡±

    ¡°And he buys far too many skin care products,¡± Cynthia scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m all for a well-groomed man but the amount is a little excessive.¡±

    ¡°Why do you know that? You keeping tabs on people?¡± The question wasn¡¯t entirely innocent. The combat instructors doubled as law enforcement for the Hall. Spying on other staff wasn¡¯t illegal but it was immoral, and Alyssa wouldn¡¯t let her get away with it.

    ¡°Would I do something like that? You know how much people like to gossip and consistent sales stand out. But never mind. Tell me about this night out¡­¡±

 Side Story-Silvari 04

    Upon attaining the title of master, Aurelius was gifted his own home. An enviable achievement but masters were as numerous in the Grand Hall as nobles were in Summer Spire. His home couldn¡¯t compare to the expansive estate given to Kierra, but no one could scoff at it. He didn¡¯t need the space, being a single man, and he preferred the location, closer to the Center Hall than the Grand Market.

    He was given a little consideration by being given a house at the end of the street, where the yard was a little bigger, maintained by his students. However, he allowed no one inside. Several expensive enchantments made sure of it, along with a reputation rarely spoken of out of fear of having the wind steal their words.

    Moonlight reflected off his silver robe as he dropped onto the front porch of the modest two-story home. A hand grabbed the rope next to the door, giving it a light tug. The chime of his doorbell faintly touched his ears. What no observer could see was that he also put his mana into the rope, briefly deactivating the wards protecting his home before opening the door.

    The layout of the house was unusual in that it had no rooms. The entirety of the first floor was open, the different areas informally sectioned off by half-walls and counters. In the center of the living space was a spiral staircase, leading to a similar space on the second floor.

    The house was designed by another air affinity caster, along with most of the defensive enchantments on the house. A retired hunter, the previous occupant designed his home to be an advantageous battleground. Walls stymied an air caster the most so he¡¯d knocked down as many as he could. Aurelius couldn¡¯t imagine a scenario where he¡¯d have to defend his home. Mainly, he liked the open space for his practice.

    With a quick spell, he blew up the stairs, his feet sinking into the plush carpet of the second floor as he canceled his levitation for the first time that day.

    While the first floor was loosely divided into several spaces, the second floor was divided starkly in two. The right side was a bedroom, modestly decorated with a minimum of furniture and a large bed, a mixture of silver and blue bed dressings making it resemble a slice of a summer sky stolen from the heavens.

    The left side resembled a museum exhibit. Along the walls were two long display cases made with specialty glass that could resist a direct blow from anyone but the strongest physical casters. Between them were wooden pedestals with glass covers. They all displayed artifacts, crumbling from the ravages of time, a mix of weapons, tapestries, simple tools, and fading art. They shared a theme, depicting scenes of nature along with humanoid shapes who had distinctive long ears.

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    On the far wall was the centerpiece. Illuminated by two everglowing magic lights was a large portrait. A woman sat in a plush, golden chair, her hands folded in her lap. A simple silver dress made her cream-colored skin seem as pale as moonlight. Long silver hair fell down her back and spilled over her shoulders. She faced the artist with a serene smile, projecting a powerful gaze Aurelius could feel the weight of hundreds of years later.

    He carefully padded over to it. A hand came up, his fingers hesitating just before touching the fragile painting. ¡°Can¡¯t you share some advice for your descendant? At this rate, the Silvari Clan will fall to ruin.¡±

    Aurelius didn¡¯t casually share his last name, a tradition he¡¯d inherited. A precaution his forefathers needed to take as an alliance with their southern neighbors would not have gone over well with the old Harvest nobles still sore from the Great War.

    The original patriarch of the Silvari Clan had met his would-be wife by pure coincidence. A young knight forced to retire from an injury that crippled his leg, he did good works for other unfortunate people, helping those injured in similar ways, leaving them unable to find work.

    During his journeys, a woman stumbled into him. Her limbs were twisted grotesquely, her face horribly scarred, and her skinny body was covered in rags. A repulsive figure that made every other on the street steer away. The patriarch¡¯s own men wanted to drive the woman off but, a man of endless compassion, the patriarch brought the woman home. He had the servants bathe her, feed her, and massage her painful limbs. When she was comfortable as she could be, he talked to her and found the woman was not at all what she seemed.

    She was not a human, but an elf from the Twilight Province. A criminal cursed and sent away from her people. A talented mender who couldn¡¯t heal her own body as her magic was consumed fighting off a poison that rotted her from the inside. She told the patriarch everything and then begged for death. Banished from her home, trapped in a broken body, surrounded by enemies, she had nothing to live for.

    The patriarch refused. He nursed the woman every day, her body and her hope. During the day, he scoured the continent for every alchemical reagent he could get his hands on, spending enough gold to build a small city. At night, he took her into the city and educated her about the human kingdom, enjoying her company under the cover of darkness. It took years for the elf to create a cure for the poison in her body. Years more for her to heal. Only then, when she was free to go as she pleased, did the patriarch ask for her hand in marriage. Olma Silvari agreed, marrying the patriarch in secret.

    From then on, the Errents, a family name Aurelius showed no respect for, had begun to produce mages of exceptional power with startling frequency. The sons were strong, their daughters beautiful. At the height of their power, they could rival the old houses, including both the James and the Rosefields. And perhaps, their ears were a little longer than normal, and came to a sharper point.

 Side Story-Silvari 05

    It didn¡¯t last. After three generations, their blood thinned. Their magic wasn¡¯t as strong, their bodies not as tough, their children less talented and beautiful. The Silvari blood polluted with inferior humans. Aurelius was the best of his brothers but only a shadow of his ancestors. His ears were short and round. Shaving his hair made their extra fraction of an inch in length stand out a bit more but most of the time, it was a reminder of his pathetic blood.

    However, unlike the rest of his family, Aurelius planned to do something about it. It was too late for him but not for his sons. The day he found he had a talent for casting, he decided he would go to the elven continent to seek his bride. Not to elevate his family or to seek the wealth of the forest. Those were reasons too, but his primary motivation was much simpler.

    He simply wasn¡¯t attracted to human women.

    The patriarch had many paintings of his secret wife commissioned, lavishing her in attention in exchange for hiding her. Aurelius had been fascinated with her visage since he was a young boy. Her delicate features contrasting with her knife-like ears, her strange coloring, her quiet grace. He was enamored. That was before he was old enough for his father to show him the more¡­explicit paintings commissioned, glorifying their great ancestor in a drunken rant. Aurelius, who had thought he simply lacked interest in women, ¡°awakened¡±.

    Several years passed and he became a master caster. However, even such a level wasn¡¯t enough to guarantee him safe passage. He had to fight through the Enchanted Forest, fight into their home, and survive long enough to convince them he meant no harm. There was a chance that they weren¡¯t as hateful towards the humanity as the Harvest Kingdom used to be toward them, but he doubted it. Humanity dragged the elves into the Great War, and they lived far longer on average. There may be elders who still remembered the great fire that brought on the forest keepers¡¯ anger.

    Combined with the trial of courting a woman with his degraded blood, Aurelius was determined but not hopeful.

    Then, as if Lady Silvari herself had blessed him, she appeared.

    Kierra Atainna, an elven princess. The cream of the crop, a pureblood of the purest blood. Green skin that spoke of a thriving forest, summer green eyes flecked with traces of the sun, and the silver hair of Lady Silvari. He could only take it as a sign of destiny.

    She was his destiny¡­and yet there was an annoying obstacle standing in the way. An obstacle named Lourianne Tome.

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    A girl, a mystery, a thorn in his side. He couldn¡¯t understand it. The perfect woman and she was married, married, to a buffoon. With secrets.

    He wasn¡¯t blind. Clearly, Lourianne Tome had to be more than she first appeared. If for no other reason than Kierra¡¯s interest in her, but he had seen proof that she had at least some ability. One could buy their way into the Hall, which she had, but the theories she submitted alongside the Guiness gold were of some merit.

    More than anything, what made him wary to her secrets was her confidence.

    At first glance, she appeared cowardly, timid, and jumpy. The business with the prince showed she had an uncommon fear of royalty and she tended to play the fool by what felt like habit. However, she didn¡¯t back down. She had faced the prince. She faced Peter Pottoculli, two people who should have been above her in power but were utterly crushed.

    And of course, she stood up to him.

    Master caster was not a title given lightly. For an initiate aware of his power to have the audacity to so much as meet his eyes when they knew he was hostile would already take a lion¡¯s heart. Aurelius hadn¡¯t reached his power as a scholar. He¡¯d fought alongside hunters, lived in lands filled with monsters. He knew how to read a threat. What he saw in her went beyond conquering her fear. She watched him with thinly veiled disgust and anticipation. Waiting for him to make a move and give her justification to drop her meek act.

    Dumb casters didn¡¯t live long enough to become masters. Aurelius was also naturally suspicious, being a part of a family that had kept a large secret over several generations. His nerves led him to be cautious and he strived to tear apart the ridiculous relationship through other means rather than risk a confrontation.

    However, the girl was incredibly resistant to backhanded methods. He¡¯d been shocked to find she had no skeletons to be aired, having lived a quiet life before her attack. She couldn¡¯t be bribed. She cared little for prestige. He might have tried playing to her obvious carnal desires but what woman could compare to Kierra?

    When he failed to find a character flaw to exploit, he thought to invent one. His words to Alyssa weren¡¯t a lie. He truly regretted accusing Dean of abusing the mental affinity. It was hasty and worse, stupid. If he had been thinking rationally, he would have never tried to use such serious circumstances. Far too much scrutiny, not to mention Dunwayne¡¯s involvement. He could have been stripped of his place at the Hall, forced to throw his lot in with hunters-for-hire or chain himself to one of the orders. It was fortunate he had proved himself competent before. Luckily, the Dunwayne was a forgiving and patient man. The grandmaster had docked his pay, forced him to take on a few extra duties, but had mostly left Aurelius to his embarrassment, knowing it would be the worst punishment.

    ¡°No worries,¡± he whispered to himself. A bad habit formed from training to feel the way the air moved from speech. ¡°I¡¯ll bring Lourianne Tome low. Reveal her secrets and strip her of that false confidence.  Show you how lowly these humans really are. Then¡­¡±

    He¡¯d be there, a far better choice. Perhaps his charm wouldn¡¯t be enough to sway his princess. He couldn¡¯t blame her if she decided she had wasted enough time amongst humans and returned home to find a proper suitor. At the very least, he wanted to be by her side when she did.

    Perhaps she had sisters.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-Prologue

    Callan¡¯s father drilled into him from an early age that to get anywhere, he had to work hard. The further he wanted to go, the higher his ambitions, the harder he would have to work. No one owed him anything. The opposite. As a commoner, as a man without the talent to become one of the powerful casters who dominated the Harvest Kingdom, his father warned him that he would have to fight for anything he earned less someone snatch it from him.

    If he listened to his father¡¯s words, the greatest he could hope for in his life would be slaving away beneath someone else¡¯s banner, allowing a ¡®greater¡¯ man to protect him and being content with what honest labor could bring him. To dare chase a greater dream could only invite disaster. He and his family were small fish in the monster-infested ocean known as Quest, home of the guilds and the renowned Grand Hall.

    However, dream he did. The one who had given him that dream was Kierra Atainna.

    A foreign beauty, hailing from the land of the elves. Green skin that reminded him of the vibrant plants in his mother¡¯s herb garden, fair silver hair, and eyes that seemed to embody summer itself, shifting from vibrant green to a glowing gold. The kind of woman that could inspire stories, but she didn¡¯t resemble any of the maidens men sung about.

    She was no princess waiting to be swept off her feet by a powerful knight after he proved himself to her father, though she was of royal descent if the rumors could be believed.

    She wasn¡¯t the young village girl with knowledge of the forest, finding and bandaging up the legendary hunter after a bout of misfortune, though her healing prowess was incredible by anyone¡¯s measure.

    She could fight, oh, how she could fight, but he couldn¡¯t imagine her as any great hero¡¯s sidekick.

    No, Kierra Atainna was a walking war totem. She attracted to her those who sought to make their future with blood and violence. She offered people like him, those who thought they would spend the rest of their lives at the whims of others, a path to power. Training them and then pitting them against one another, inciting them to use their fellows as steps to climb higher.

    Like the horrible stories of man-eating demons his grandmother used to tell him when he misbehaved as a child, the elf demanded blood and circus, taking delight in their struggles. On the other hand, she was a saint, cleansing them of every ail and ache, gifting them with wealth. Tying together the opposing sides was an unquestionable strength, a physicality enhanced by magic.

    Combined with her strong personality, Kierra collected followers like a flower attracted bees. The promise of power engendered in them a near fanatic loyalty and a culture of fierce competition. Callan had shed blood, sweat, and with his face buried in the dirt after a particularly grueling training session, tears for her. Enough that a sane man might have already been scared off, returning to his simple circumstances with a new appreciation.

    But a man in love could not be considered sane.

    Callan wanted the money, the power, and the fame, but what he wanted most of all was the woman herself. He longed for her healing caresses to linger in passion, for her eyes to see him not as a project but as a man. He wanted her to be his bride, fantasized about lifting her veil on their wedding day. He fantasized more about lifting the hem of her wedding dress on their wedding night, with a frequency that anyone who heard of it would denounce as unhealthy. After all, the object of his romantic obsession was a married woman.

    He knew he was not good enough for the elven beauty. She had made it clear that she desired strength and ambition. A husband also needed money to provide for a household. Things he lacked but things that could be fixed. He felt confident, maybe unreasonably so, that in time, he could become a man worthy to stand by her side. He had the determination to do so.

    However, all of it would be for naught because of the greatest obstacle standing in the way of his love. An initiate by the name of Lourianne Tome, Kierra¡¯s wife.

    Amusingly, she was the reason he¡¯d ever met Kierra in the first place. And the reason he was currently moving through the Grand Hall¡¯s residential area right after dawn.

    Callan broke into a jog, having caught his breath. He raised his hands to his mouth and blew on the frosty digits. Winter was coming, announcing itself with biting morning winds and freezing nights. Snow was unusual but they were close enough to the Bleak Peaks that if the Lords became active, they would feel the effects. Something quite likely if the information he was running to deliver was accurate.

    His meeting with Lourianne Tome¡­had not gone well. Having heard of her wife, Callan found himself lingering outside her home, eager to catch a glimpse of the no doubt mythical figure that enamored his love so thoroughly.

    Instead, he found a dark-skinned girl with suspicious brown eyes trudging home after apparently playing in mud given the state of her. To wait in apprehension for the appearance of a heroic figure worthy of sweeping the powerful Kierra off her feet and instead meet a woman, a girl younger than himself, with the appearance of a laborer¡­words couldn¡¯t quite describe how he felt in that moment.

    If he had to try, he would say he was disappointed. Confused. Betrayed. Hopeful. If his imagined obstacle was just a simple initiate, he might still be outclassed but his goals didn¡¯t feel impossible.

    That thinking and his jumbled thoughts gave him the confidence to step into her home. Behind closed doors, Lourianne Tome showed she was not the simple girl she appeared to be. At the very least, she was unhinged.

    One moment, the picture of civility. The next, she jumped on him, her hands over his throat, murderous rage in her eyes.

    She was also far, far stronger than she appeared. She didn¡¯t have the heroic image he expected but by the saints she had the strength. It felt like a man five times his size held him down. She was immovable as she slowly choked the life out of him. But more than her strength, what had terrified him was the unmistakable glee in her eyes. She enjoyed it and would have enjoyed killing him.

    Unhinged.

    Of all things, the timely arrival of Kierra had saved him. Callan was gladdened, of course. It seemed like a sign, but it was hard to keep his positive attitude. Her words belied how little she cared for him. She didn¡¯t speak of him as a friend, or a student, or even a pet. Something lesser, little more than a passing interest. It made him wonder if she intervened to save him or for a more depressing reason like not wanting to stain the carpet. Or worse, to protect Lourianne from the consequence of murder.

    He¡¯d certainly seen evidence of her care for her, the elf transforming for a beacon of pain and violence into a simpering wife eager to please her spouse.

    Seeing Kierra cowled almost scared Callan as much as having the life choked out of him.

    While Kierra¡¯s intervention had managed to save his life, it hadn¡¯t been for free. Callan didn¡¯t have much to offer but the devil in a girl¡¯s skin had acquiesced to sparing his life in return for his service. Which is why he jogged toward their residence at the ungodly hour, dutifully carrying a report to his ¡®lady¡¯.

    The sight of their house made his stomach turn. Partly from jealously, knowing that the resplendent two-story manor and its accompanying estate was far beyond his financial means. Partly from anxiety, as he never knew how Lou would react.

    One day, she might be welcoming, treating him respectfully if distantly, and the next she¡¯d lob insults, treating him like the dirt on the bottom of her shoe. The worse days was when he saw a ghost of her homicidal anger. She would make an innocuous comment about Kierra and then stare at him with the intensity of a wolf eyeing prey. Callan learned to speak quickly and get away when it happened.

    Things weren¡¯t all bad. Sometimes, coming to the Tome-Atainna residence could bring good fortune. He hoped toady would be such a day.

    When he knocked on the front door, it was answered by the house¡¯s head servant.

    ¡°Callan,¡± Geo greeted with a smile that warmed his chest. Without his love for Kierra, he might have fallen for her charms, despite her clear otherworldly origins. If the gray skin and pink irises weren¡¯t enough of a giveaway, the horns would have done it. Her cute face and gentle demeanor easily swayed any hearts wary of her species. He knew she was an elemental but couldn¡¯t identify what kind or from what plane. She refused to tell him, forced to silence by her contract.

    ¡°Good morning, Geo.¡± He inclined his head respectfully. ¡°I¡¯ve come for my report.¡±

    ¡°Oh? You seem excited.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, this information is good. Maybe good enough to impress that devil.¡± The arrangement he made with Lourianne Tome was to use his connections in the Grand Market to give her warning on good deals. He learned that the one surefire way to Lourianne Tome¡¯s good side was through her seemingly unending desires.

    She had no use for the baubles that usually attracted nobility, though she still listened when he spoke of the new pieces before they graced show windows. What drew her attention was the unusual. Traces from the other continents. Again, things only nobles would be interested in, bragging about pieces from places they¡¯d never visit. Lands ruled by other species, hostile intelligent life, where their fancy titles and gold meant nothing.

    The other things that interested her were weapons. All kinds and types though she took particular interest in bows and knives. For Kierra, as they were her preferred weapons. He put extra effort into locating information on those items but rarely bought anything in their name. Few could reach the elf¡¯s standards.

    He didn¡¯t have anything that would appeal to Kierra¡¯s tastes but his dedication to the subject had led to very interesting rumors. Rumors that after a little investigation appeared to be true and held the chance for a good opportunity.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I want to deliver this news personally,¡± he said.

    ¡°Today must be your lucky day. Normally, summoning her from the arms of her wife at such an hour would guarantee her¡­annoyance, but she is already awake.¡± Geo closed her eyes for several long moments before opening them. ¡°She has been informed. It may be a while before she comes. She does enjoy making you sweat.¡±

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    Callan grimaced. ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Which again, is your fortune. Tell me. How are your studies coming along?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t stop himself from looking past her, reassuring himself that no one was nearby to overhear their conversation. It wasn¡¯t a dangerous topic on its own but he had a feeling that his new employer would not be happy to hear him discussing it. ¡°Materials are hard to come by. Summoning is not a popular art.¡±

    Confronting Lourianne Tome directly was madness; she outclassed him physically, magically, and socially. That did not bring into account her elementals, Geo and the imp, Bell. However, therein lied his road to victory.

    Summoning, the art of contracting elementals, beings that existed in parallel realms. They were bound to their summoner by an unbreakable agreement, gifting their contractor all of their strength and talent.

    Callan might not be a caster but he had mana, same as every other living thing. If he could not use it, he might as well offer it to a being that could in exchange for benefits. A weak man could become a king if he managed to contract a dragon, or its elemental equivalent.

    Knowing about the possibility didn¡¯t make it any more feasible. Even as a summoner, Callan was lacking, as they were attracted by those with deep mana pools and practiced affinities. However, a summoner could offer more than their paltry selves and he could bridge his deficiencies with mana with knowledge. If only he could get his hands on said knowledge.

    ¡°Of course such a powerful art would be obscured by those in power.¡±

    ¡°Can you do anything to help?¡±

    ¡°Lourianne does not keep many summoning records in the house. Your best hope would be to bargain with one of the acolytes for entrance into the Summoning Hall. They may have the connections you lack.¡±

    ¡°I was thinking the same thing.¡± Kierra picked up average talent but most of her followers came from the foundation acolytes of the Hall. Callan had made acquaintances amongst their number through the exchange of blows. Not relationships that lent to asking for favors.

    ¡°A suggestion? Start with a gift. Few can look unfavorably on someone giving them something of value.¡±

    ¡°The last thing I want to do is give the bastards who are responsible for my frequent beatings anything,¡± he grumped. ¡°What I really need is a teacher. I haven¡¯t learned much but ask anyone about summoning and you hear the horror stories of idiots who let an elemental trick them or end up contracting some useless creature that sticks with them for life. Quickest way to learn something is to have someone show you the ropes.¡±

    ¡°There is an entire Hall dedicated to it. The masters are far beyond your reach but the acolytes may be amenable to giving you lessons.¡±

    ¡°I thought the same thing.¡± Though it irked him to think he would need to apprentice himself to someone his age, he could respect a difference in skill. ¡°Same situation with the records, unfortunately. I¡¯ll do what I can to work my contacts but¡­I think you would have a much better opportunity. That d¡ªLourianne must visit the Summoning Hall frequently. While she is doing her business, you can speak to someone who might be open to an arrangement.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t be easy doing so under her notice. And you will have to provide the incentives to persuade them on your own.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Callan hoped he could provide these incentives, anticipating a rough hit to his coin purse. Resources for a caster were expensive and it naturally made their ilk greedy and cruelly pragmatic when it came to business. ¡°¡­you still can¡¯t tell me what you are?¡±

    ¡°I have been ordered to obscure my origins,¡± she said, eyes downcast. ¡°I hesitate to give you any information. Should she ask me about our conversation, I would be forced to reveal everything.¡±

    He was forced to admire the contract the devil had managed. From the little he knew, contracting an elemental with no restrictions on their loyalty was incredibly rare and implied great skill.

    ¡°The Courtesan Hall. Have you heard of it?¡±

    Callan cleared his throat to hide his shock, feeling a faint blush warm his cheeks. Anyone who lived in Quest heard of the Court. He reckoned most men with an appreciation for the female form had visited at least once. His father had given him enough coin to enjoy himself on his sixteenth birthday and the women of the Court had promptly stripped him of his coin purse and his ¡®innocence¡¯. He¡¯d been a loyal customer, having little time or opportunity for proper courtship. That had stopped once he met Kierra, of course. ¡°I know of it, yes.¡±

    ¡°You should visit. Perhaps ask some of the women or a manager about a being with my general description.¡±

    Callan¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Alright. Wha¡ª¡±

    ¡°No more now. She¡¯s coming.¡±

    He stiffened, mouth snapping shut. After a few moments, his ears straining to catch the slightest sound, he heard someone clomping down the stairs. It didn¡¯t take long for Lourianne to appear.

    She looked very different from the first time he¡¯d seen her, not just because of her clean clothes and generally groomed appearance. Everything about her was different. Her dark skin was cleared of any blemishes. Her dark hair had a lustrous quality to it that he attributed to noblewomen of exceptional wealth, able to afford rare and expensive beauty potions, streaked with unusual strands of violet and silver. She always had a powerful physique but it was even more obvious now. He could also swear she¡¯d gotten a bit taller, though the idea seemed ridiculous.

    The most disconcerting change of all were her eyes. A bright violet, a color reserved for the prized showpieces in a garden, not a woman¡¯s eyes. They were beautiful¡­and utterly incomprehensible. No human had eyes that color naturally. It screamed that she was other, the woman flaunting it. He had no idea what otherworldly powers she might have dabbled in to result in such drastic changes but he could only imagine it spoke to a greater mastery of summoning, which didn¡¯t bode well for his plans to, at the very least, surpass his rival.

    Her lips turned up in a mocking grin as she moved into the doorway, Geo stepping back with a bowed head to make room. ¡°Mr. Self-Made. What¡¯s put so much spring in your step that you hopped all the way over here before even the sun finished waking up?¡±

    Callan bowed stiffly, ignoring the disgust the action evoked. ¡°My lady. I¡¯ve brought news that I think you will be most interested in.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    He waited a moment, hoping she would invite him inside to escape the biting cold. Instead, she raised her brows in an exaggerated expression that said, ¡®get on with it¡¯. ¡°I have been listening for word on blades, as requested. In doing so, I noted that many of the smiths and armorers are fully engaged, no longer accepting requests. I went searching for the reason and confirmed this information from many sources.¡±

    He leaned forward, lowering his voice. ¡°Fort Victory is preparing for another campaign into the Bleak Peaks, a big one. They¡¯re recruiting from the local guilds and their knights have hired all of the smiths and armorers.¡±

    ¡°That? I already knew about it.¡±

    Callan contained his reaction to a blink. That was mildly disappointing. The whole point of their arrangement was for him to deliver valuable information before others might become aware of it. However, he still had cards to play. ¡°I also know two of the guilds involved.¡±

    ¡°Before you get to that¡­¡± She leaned against the doorway and crossed her arms. ¡°Why do I care about this? You¡¯re supposed to be scouring the market for interesting knick-knacks and a few knives for my wife¡¯s collection.¡±

    He wondered if her question was a trick. ¡°Campaigns into the Bleak Peaks are funded by Duke James himself, maybe even the crown. They are always looking for bodies. With the representation of several guilds and knightly orders, there is no better opportunity to receive gold and recognition.¡± At least, his friend that had recently joined one of the guilds assured him so.

    ¡°Do you understand what you¡¯re saying?¡± she asked, shaking her head as if listening to the ramblings of an ignorant child. ¡°This campaign. I don¡¯t know what in the saints¡¯ names makes you think it¡¯s such a wonderful opportunity that you have to come prancing up to my door. Think about it for a moment. The Bleak Peaks. The Land of Eternal Winter. The Impenetrable Wall. The Throne of Monsters.

    ¡°A bunch of crazy men with more brawn for brains are going to march into that hellhole in the middle of winter, at its absolute coldest and most miserable, to fight some of the nastiest monsters on the continent. Not because they have to but for ¡®glory¡¯. And they aren¡¯t going to fight one or two. They want to push as far into that horrible place as they can, climb to the top of those mountains, and fight the creatures that rule that place, which are rumored to be as strong as dragons in case you weren¡¯t aware.¡±

    She pushed off the doorway and stepped toward him. Callan resisted the urge to take a step back. ¡°You think I want to leave my warm house with my warm wife and my warm food to go fight against the nastiest bastards this continent has to offer? Does that sound like a great opportunity to you?¡±

    When it was put like that¡­ ¡°No.¡± He certainly wouldn¡¯t want to join the campaign. Fighting monsters, he could do. After all, improving was impossible without a proper challenge. The Bleak Peaks were not a challenge. They were a land of death. Even heroes were buried beneath the endless snow. ¡°But you¡¯re a member of the Hall. A caster.¡±

    ¡°Just because I want to become stronger doesn¡¯t mean I want to spend my life fighting monsters. There are far more important things to occupy my time, thank you very much. Which makes your oh so important information useless.¡± She took another step forward. He couldn¡¯t resist the urge to step back. ¡°This isn¡¯t the first time you¡¯ve failed to deliver, Mr. Self-Made. Do you even listen to what I tell you? Starting to wonder if you come around so often because you¡¯re hoping someone else will answer the door.¡±

    ¡°Not at all, my lady.¡± He¡¯d genuinely thought she¡¯d pleased with the information, though now, he felt he should have known better. Lourianne Tome was a violent, perverted, degenerate. It would stand to reason that she was a coward as well.

    ¡°I want to believe you, I do, but you make it hard with that poorly disguised contempt in your voice.¡± Her hand slowly reached toward his face and patted his cheek condescendingly. Then she pushed him.

    Callan stumbled backwards, tripping over the top step. He tumbled painfully, managing to land on his back. The pain quickly began to fade but the insult filled him with rising indignation. He looked up with a glare but it froze on his face.

    Those unnatural violet eyes glared down at him and her smile had a cruel edge. ¡°There you go, Mr. Atkinson. Thought I¡¯d remind you of your place since you keep forgetting.¡± She walked down the few steps imperiously. With a nonchalance that didn¡¯t fit the conversation, she put a boot on his chest and pressed down.

    Callan felt as if a house fell on him. He couldn¡¯t get any air and his ribs cried that they¡¯d break under the pressure at any moment. A hand reflexively went to her ankle but he didn¡¯t try to move her, knowing it¡¯d be a futile effort.

    The devil of a woman leaned down, smile showing more teeth. ¡°Do you think I¡¯ve forgotten about our meeting? That I¡¯ve forgotten that you¡¯re an immoral, cock-brained idiot who had the audacity to stand outside my very home looking to steal my wife¡¯s affections right in front of me? As ridiculous as the notion is, every time I remember the way you swaggered into my house and had the gall to look down your nose at me, I really want to wring your neck, you know? It¡¯s almost impossible to resist.¡±

    The pressure on his chest impossibly increased, straddling the edge of injury.

    ¡°The only thing that holds me back is the slim chance you make yourself useful. And you refuse to be useful. Hey, I know you¡¯re not exactly living like a king, but you should value your life, huh? Your mother will cry at your funeral it I rip your head off your shoulders.¡±

    He stayed quiet. Low as he was, outclassed as he was, even knowing she could crush him beneath her heel, literally, he had his pride. He stared up at her unflinchingly, waiting for whatever came next, lungs burning from prolonged lack of air.

    ¡°¡­staring at me so intensely. Hah, you know I won¡¯t feel anything for you unless you¡¯re a beautiful girl.¡±

    She moved her foot. Callan breathed in deeply but he didn¡¯t fool himself into thinking that it was over. Lourianne Tome was a predator that liked to play with her prey.

    ¡°You really are a lucky man, Mr. Self-Made. It¡¯s one of the reasons I keep you around, hope some of that good fortune will rub off on me.¡± She huffed. ¡°Today¡¯s the first day of our end of year qualifiers. I promised to pick up my favorite saint with breakfast so I don¡¯t have time to bully you. I could kill you but well. To be honest, you¡¯re just not worth it. Saints, I feel like I¡¯m kicking a starving orphan for trying to steal from me. Criminal, sure. Threat? Absolutely not.¡±

    Callan felt his temper flare. The dominant thought in his mind was to lash out, show her how much of a threat he was. He held back, though. Not now. The time would come when he wiped that confident smirk off her face.

    ¡°Go on.¡± The toe of her boot jabbed his side. ¡°Get out of here, carpenter. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got some chairs with missing legs to attend to.¡±

    He didn¡¯t hesitate, quickly climbing to his feet. He took one moment to brush off his clothes, a small gesture of defiance, before walking off, quelling the urge to run.

    ¡°Next time, bring me something worthwhile, huh?¡± he heard her shout after him before chuckling. His face burned with anger and he stomped a little harder as he made his way down the road. Her laughter haunted his thoughts, reigniting his anger every time his temper began to cool, like someone blowing on the embers of a fire.

    One day¡­

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-01

    I watch Mr. Self-Made as he stomps down the road, grinning to myself as I listen to his vicious mutterings.

    ¡°Saints damn that devil woman. Not a threat. I¡¯ll show you not a threat. I¡¯ll take your power and then I¡¯ll take Kierra. We¡¯ll see who¡¯s not a threat then¡ª¡±

    Really, the things people say when they think no one can hear them. Has no one ever told him that the wind is listening? Of course, that¡¯s a warning against wind affinity casters who specialize in espionage and can listen in on conversations across the city if someone leaves a window open. I¡¯m just someone with a good pair of ears, heh.

    Everything I said to Callan is true. I don¡¯t mind Kierra and her project, even if her followers feel a little cultish. She¡¯s has my interests at her heart, wanting to train a human force for my future estate. Personally, I think it¡¯s too much. I don¡¯t need a small standing army like most noble houses with her and Geneva around. Saints, I¡¯ll include myself in the list of ¡®reasons not to fuck with Lourianne Tome¡¯. But she enjoys it, so I indulge her.

    That is the main reason I spared Callan¡¯s life that day. It really was shocking. I thought I¡¯d grown numb to the advances on my wife but to have an admirer simply waltz up to my front door is too much. I doubt a saint¡¯s patience could withstand such an insult. I¡¯m rather proud that I managed not to choke him to death. As little as I care for the human weasel, killing someone at the Hall would be breaking the rules, which means coming to odds with Dunwayne. I rather not do that, most of all because I genuinely respect him.

    Thankfully, Geneva managed to ease the blow by giving Callan another use. She¡¯s convinced the poor fool that if he learns the art of summoning, he can defeat me, woo Kierra, and, well, I suppose live like a high noble.

    Complete garbage, of course. Sure, even a weak young man with an underdeveloped mana pool can master the art of summoning but the truth of the matter is that he has nothing to offer a creature with the strength to make his ambitions reality. Something of the magnitude that he desires will levy so many conditions for their contract that he might as well be the slave and the elemental the master.

    However, in his pursuit of my demise, he is very serious about learning summoning. Better, he has drawn his friends into it, hoping to substitute quantity for quality. It warms my heart to see my family¡¯s art spread. Warms it enough to counter my disdain for the ambitious artisan, most days. He truly is lucky. I¡¯m not so callous to think I could kill him without any bother and today I want to be at my best. It is time for the long-awaited qualifiers.

    My initiate year at the Grand Hall is coming to a close. It¡¯s been fun. Actually, it hasn¡¯t. It¡¯s been quite a pain. Between the torture sessions poorly disguised as foundation training, the troublesome characters I¡¯ve had the misfortune of becoming entangled with, and the tedium of study complicated by the other two factors, it¡¯s been tough.

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    All over now. Once I¡¯ve passed the final tests, I¡¯ll be an official acolyte, a title that has its own power, and I¡¯m free until spring. Normally, the winter break is meant for instructors to return to their research and for acolytes to ¡®gain experience¡¯, which really means work like madmen to earn enough money to continue paying tuition. Seeing as I¡¯m currently being sponsored by Marquis Guiness, I¡¯m in no need of money and can spend my time doing more rewarding things.

    But first, the tests.

    ¡°What have you sent him off to do now?¡± I ask Geneva as we re-enter the house, heading for the kitchen. She gets back to packing breakfast.

    ¡°He is in need of summoning records and a teacher to guide his study. He wants my help recruiting someone from the Summoning Hall to his cause.¡±

    ¡°Hm. A teacher. I hope he doesn¡¯t think there¡¯s an easy-to-follow guide to summoning.¡± Unlike casting, summoning is an art of intention. No matter who uses a spell, if the formula is the same, they¡¯ll produce the same result. Two summoners drawing the same circle might not have the same success. They¡¯ll be a different in the way they carve it, a difference in the way they entreat the elemental. I¡¯ve read records that claim absolutely everything can influence a summoning, including a summoner¡¯s voice.

    Having a teacher to hold his hand and make sure the first couple of elementals he summons don¡¯t eat his brain is fine, but beyond that, it¡¯s nothing more than a crutch. In the worse case, a hindrance.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Go ahead and grant that request. Try and find someone who won¡¯t take advantage of the poor bastards.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Has he figured out what you are yet?¡±

    ¡°Disappointingly, no. For all his bluster, he certainly lacks initiative. I suppose he expects for all the answers to simply waltz right in front of him, as Master did.¡± She chuckles. ¡°For all his supposed ambition, he is quite comfortable with his circumstances. He wants more but isn¡¯t confident or desperate enough to bet what he has.¡±

    ¡°Not motivated then, hm.¡± I grin. ¡°Then I suppose we should motivate him. For his own good.¡±

    ¡°A bit of stress can be beneficial,¡± Geneva says with a sinister grin of her own. ¡°External, internal, or both?¡±

    ¡°I imagine external is simpler than internal. Also involves involving others.¡± Making him desperate financially means coming after his family¡¯s store. Injuring him means involving the authorities sent to investigate. ¡°What are our options for internal?¡±

    ¡°Callan Atkinson has a strong ego. He believes himself to be far more important than the world recognizes him to be, which is the root of a very volatile anger he just manages to keep control of. The only emotion I¡¯ve felt that rivals it is his lust for Master, though even this ties back to his ego. He believes that she exists solely to elevate him, their paths crossing nothing short of a destiny ordained by the universe itself.¡±

    ¡°¡­seriously?¡±

    ¡°I doubt he would say so himself. Callan is simply a young man in love. But I can hear the voice of his heart.¡± She chuckles, tail whipping lazily. ¡°The dark, greedy voice of a man who feels slighted.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-02

    ¡°Uh-huh. So, best ways to break him without making him entirely useless?¡±

    ¡°We can cater to his ego, provide him the validation he so desperately craves. Let him become confident, perhaps grant him a sliver of the power he desires. He will build a proper following, one that may even survive for a few years.¡±

    ¡°I can see a problem with that. If he becomes strong, actually strong, he¡¯ll get cocky and come after me. He hates me, you know?¡± I¡¯d do the same thing and Mr. Self-Made seems a hundred times pettier than me.

    ¡°Indeed, though perhaps not for a while. Besides, he will never be an actual threat to you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true. I can think of a second alternative. Which I know you know.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we can also play to his anger, something you enjoy. Humiliate him to the point that he becomes reckless. Who knows what he will do then. Someone pushed into a corner is capable of greatness¡­and terrible atrocities.¡±

    Our options are watching him slowly build a following and reputation before utterly crushing him or driving him mad until he snaps and does something crazy.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go with anger.¡± The first option sounds incredibly boring, which is reason enough to reject it. It also means I¡¯d have to hold myself back and watch him build something good enough to hurt once I break it, whether that¡¯s power, allies, or reputation. That could take decades. I don¡¯t have that much free time. ¡°I want him to be so angry that the sight of me makes him faint from heatstroke.¡± Then we¡¯ll see what lengths he¡¯s really willing to go to for power.

    ¡°I have several ideas.¡±

    ¡°That we can talk about later,¡± I say quickly, seeing that¡¯s she¡¯s finished packing the boxes. ¡°Come on, we don¡¯t want to be late. Bell!¡±

    There¡¯s loud scampering as my favorite imp barrels down the stairs, stopping by my leg. She looks up at me with four wide eyes and lets out a happy ¡°Coo!¡± I hold out my arms for her and she leaps into them, settling herself against my chest. [I¡¯m ready, Master Lou!]

    ¡°Good! We don¡¯t want to be late!¡±

    -

    Alana is waiting for us outside the Bronze Dorm, standing to the side of the door. As usual, she is dressed in linens and light plate armor, the gray metal dull and scuffed from its frequent use. Her blonde hair has grown, the tips nearly reaching the base of her neck. She wanted to chop it all off but I managed to convince her otherwise, eager to see her with the standard appearance of a noblewoman. Don¡¯t know how I¡¯m going to convince once it becomes long enough to be a nuisance but for the moment, she has it tied in a messy ball, her longer bangs held back by twin hairpins with little blue and silver shields on them. Gifts from me after hearing her complain for the umpteenth time.

    Her sword is strapped to her side as usual, one hand casually resting on the pommel as she stares off into the distance. I pick up the pace, calling out, ¡°Thinking about me again?¡±

    Blue eyes snap to me. She frowns but quickly cracks under the pressure of my smile, lips twitching and eventually moving upwards. ¡°Yeah, cause you¡¯re bringing breakfast.¡±

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    ¡°Cheh. You only want me slaving over a hot stove for you, brute.¡±

    ¡°Only thing you¡¯re good for, woman.¡±

    I guffaw, delighted. Oh, I love when she plays my games. It doesn¡¯t happen often but slowly but surely, she¡¯s relaxed that stiff personality I love and hate. I think I¡¯m growing on her.

    ¡°So, do you want to sit down inside or¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah, no, no. I can smell those boxes from here. If those beasts in there get a whiff, they¡¯ll never leave us alone.¡±

    ¡°Okay, usual place. Keep up, huh? We¡¯ve got somewhere to be today.¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°I always keep up, don¡¯t I?¡± she says, falling in beside me as I break into a swift jog, Geneva and Bell behind us.

    Since the unfortunate entanglement with Prince Samuel, we¡¯ve taken to eating on the Dueling Field at least once a week. Or at least, Alana pesters me to have Geneva cook for her at least once a week and I oblige. No more, though. Otherwise, neither of us would be able to stomach mundane food again. And that¡¯s just her normal cooking, not whatever magic she uses to make simple ingredients taste like divinity.

    ¡°So, how are you feeling?¡± I ask once we¡¯re on the field, boxes spread around us.

    Alana pauses in shoveling down food to look up at me. ¡°Are you asking how I feel about the upcoming tests?¡±

    ¡°Was there anything else happening to today?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Depends on you.¡± She grins at my narrowed eyes, taking a bite of a sausage. ¡°You¡¯re still too easy.¡±

    ¡°I prefer to call it optimistic. Now, stop making my innocent heart race you rogue and get on with what you were going to say.¡±

    ¡°Hm. I was talking to some of the foundation acolytes, to get information on the qualifiers. The specifics change every year but the overall tests remain the same. It¡¯s divided into three parts; a written exam, an interview, and a demonstration of ability.¡±

    She grabs a napkin to wipe her hands before grabbing a bottle of juice. ¡°There¡¯s also a hidden test. Apparently, the first thing they do is measure all of the acolytes¡¯ coefficients. Supposedly, if it¡¯s below 100, they immediately boot you out.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± My coefficient was above that before I came to the Hall. After several months of mana exercises, it¡¯s sure to have improved, though I have no idea by how much.

    ¡°The exam itself covers a breadth of topics. Supposedly, you pass if you can answer the basic questions on spell variables and construct a few half-decent spells on paper. The more complex questions are there as a test, a chance to impress the instructors, something¡ª¡±

    ¡°We have to do if we want to be invited into their classes.¡± Initiates receive the same instruction during their first year, ensuring we¡¯re all competent with the basics. However, advanced lessons are another matter. The masters of the Hall are not simple tutors hired by nobles, basically treated as a higher order of servant to their respective houses. They are powerful fighters and elites within their fields. They do not take in riff-raff with enough crowns to buy a place at the Hall.

    ¡°Miss Alyssa warned me,¡± I say in answer to her questioning gaze. ¡°Apparently, I don¡¯t make the best first impression.¡±

    ¡°Wonder what made her say that,¡± my friend says drily. ¡°After the written exam is the interview. A panel of three instructors from the three major studies ask about your views on magic and goals or whatever else.¡±

    The three major studies; spellcrafting, for those intending to be casters, foundation for those intending to join one of the knightly orders, and alchemy.

    ¡°The interview is the simplest part of the qualifiers as no one can fail. It¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just another way to impress the instructors.¡±

    Alana glares at me. ¡°Will you quit interrupting me? It¡¯s annoying.¡±

    ¡°Ah, sorry. Sometimes, it¡¯s hard to ignore our connection.¡± I grin at her scoff. ¡°And the last test?¡±

    ¡°A demonstration of ability. This is the test that changes the most. In previous years, there¡¯s been tournaments, single bouts. There¡¯s been staged battles, pitting entire classes against one another. There¡¯s also been demonstrations of skill, initiates throwing out their best spell. Don¡¯t suppose you know what it¡¯s going to be?¡±

    ¡°Why would you think I know?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re married to an instructor.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You think Kierra would help me cheat?¡±

    ¡°No, but I think you might have gotten a few details to slip. You¡¯re devious enough.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°There you go taking my insults as compliments again.¡±

    ¡°Please. We both know it¡¯s how you show your love.¡±

    ¡°You really should see someone about those delusions.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers--03

    We finish our breakfast in a cheery atmosphere. After cleaning up, I send Geneva home with the leftovers, Bell riding on my shoulder as we make our way to the foundation fields. The rest of the initiates are waiting for us, the air filled with excitement. Mano stands before them in his usual red robe, wearing an indulgent smile. He hasn¡¯t changed much in our time together. His hair has grown a bit and perhaps his skin is brighter? Really not words I¡¯d ever thought I¡¯d apply to a young man, he spends far too much on beauty potions.

    He nods toward me as we approach and I detour toward him.

    ¡°Lou. How are you feeling?¡± he asks.

    ¡°Not bad. Pretty good, actually. Soon, you and I are going to be fellow acolytes.¡±

    His smile widens. ¡°Of that, I have no doubt. Trust me, your time at the Hall hasn¡¯t fully begun until then. I have many friends that would be eager to meet you. The same to you, Alana.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Come on.¡± I grab her by the arm. ¡°Let¡¯s not take up our teacher¡¯s time so he can get this show started.¡±

    ¡°Eager, I see.¡±

    I pull her away to join the others, though we don¡¯t join them. I¡¯ve never been especially friendly with the others and after my very public problems with a member of the royal family, the last thing they want to do is get friendly with me.

    ¡°That man disturbs me,¡± Alana says quietly.

    ¡°Why? I¡¯m found Mano to be nothing but pleasant.¡±

    ¡°That is exactly my point. He is never anything but pleasant. Ever.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°He never raises his voice, he never does anything but smile. The only other expression I¡¯ve seen him make is when he¡¯s meditating.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re suspicious of him because he¡¯s too nice? Too calm?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that. Do you know the most dangerous water, Lou? It¡¯s not the flowing currents of the ocean or the rapid river. It¡¯s a calm body of water. Water without a ripple looks beautiful but it hides foulness. It stagnates. That¡¯s why you never drink from still water. My teacher taught me that.¡±

    ¡°Poetic. Your hands are wasted holding a sword.¡±

    She punches me in the arm. ¡°Though the two of you seem to get along fine.¡±

    ¡°The two of us understand each other.¡± I understand Mano at least. The man is a breed of merchant, a rare kind. He¡¯s not the greedy kind that hoards gold and silver like a dragon. No, he¡¯s a man that values the essence of trade. He uses equivalent exchange to get ahead and respects the rules of such engagements. Frankly, I don¡¯t think he cares about much else.

    Of course, I understand what Alana means. Mano is not a warm man. His smiles are sincere but there¡¯s no empathy behind them. I don¡¯t expect to see him handing out charity to orphans. I¡¯m sure the only reason he treats everyone so cordially is because it¡¯s the most expedient way to interact with them. If being an ass got better results, I think he¡¯d be the biggest ass that ever was.

    There may be something foul lurking beneath the calm surface of his mask but do I need to know what that is? No. I know that I can count on him to uphold his agreements and he¡¯s a decent conversationalist as long as we stay within the realm of small talk. As that¡¯s the extent of our relationship. I¡¯m fine leaving it there.

    ¡°Seems like more than that.¡± She eyes me. ¡°What was all that about introducing you to other acolytes?¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Jealous?¡± I grin at the look she gives me. ¡°He recognizes me as someone valuable. He wants to show me off to his other contacts and he wants to show them off to me. If I find something I like and vice versa, it opens up the door for more benefits for him. Even if a trade can¡¯t be made, simply being the one to open the door so to speak is enough to bolster his reputation.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not the type for games.¡±

    ¡°The exact opposite, my friend. I love games! Especially ones where I win. If he wants to put me in front of a bunch of people who want to flatter me in hopes of future favors, well.¡±

    She rolls her eyes. ¡°You are so vain.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    I don¡¯t get a response but I can see her slight smile.

    Clapping draws my attention to Mano as he steps in front of our group. He waits for the rest to go quiet before speaking. ¡°Welcome, initiates and hopefully soon to be acolytes.¡± His smile widens a fraction. ¡°It has been several months. During this time, you have all worked hard learning the basic skills every good caster needs. The time has come to test your prowess. Be aware, those who fail the qualifiers will be deemed, frankly, unworthy of the Hall¡¯s time. You will be dismissed and forced to retake the initiate year. If you prove truly horrendous, you will be banned from the Hall entirely, though I doubt anyone has any need to be worried about that. It has only happened thrice in the long history of the Hall.¡±

    Do you think that¡¯s going to comfort anyone!? I can hear the unease sweep through the others and I don¡¯t blame them. They¡¯re all wondering if they¡¯re going to be the fourth.

    ¡°Let me ease your nerves. The test will be difficult. They are designed to be. To become an acolyte, you must simply demonstrate a mastery of the topics taught to you during your initiate year. However, the tests are meant to test your quality as a caster. You are meant to struggle but the better you do, the better your appeal to the Hall. This means access to better instructors, better accommodations, and better opportunities. Make no mistake. Your future begins today.¡±

    His second attempt to ease the nerves of the group goes better. Some are still sweating but many more look excited. This is the chance they¡¯ve been waiting for, after all. Why they¡¯ve studied and sweated far more than they ever expected too. Especially this group, as they¡¯ve had to contend with Kierra¡¯s ¡®love¡¯.

    ¡°Today, your tests consist of two parts. Both will take place at the Caster Hall. The first will be a measure of your coefficient. There is no need to be concerned, as there is no ¡®right¡¯ number. However, many instructors insist their students have a minimum coefficient.¡±

    I look at Alana and she shrugs.

    ¡°The second part of the test is a written exam so I hope you all paid attention in class.¡±

    There are a few groans, Alana amongst them. I nudge her with a shoulder. ¡°You been skimping on your studies?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve done plenty of studying,¡± she whispers back. ¡°Far more than you.¡±

    ¡°Really? Want to put your gold where your mouth is?¡±

    ¡°Bring it on, degenerate.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Fifty crowns that I score higher than you.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Did you suddenly go broke when I wasn¡¯t looking? Put some real money on the line.¡±

    ¡°Well, well. What amount where you thinking? Maybe¡­three hundred?¡± I grin as her she flushes. ¡°I don¡¯t mind¡­as long as you tell me what you remember, in detail.¡± I¡¯m of course talking about our night on the town. Specifically, our trip to the Courtesan Hall. It was¡­quite a night but she spent the most interesting bits blackout drunk. Claims it¡¯s all a blur. I¡¯m convinced that she remembers more than she wants me to know.

    ¡°Nothing to tell you.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯re going to have to offer something else.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s say 100 gold crowns if I win and if you win, ah.¡± She shuts her eyes and shakes her head. ¡°I¡¯m only saying this because I know I¡¯m going to win. One friendly sleepover at your place.¡±

    I perk up. ¡°Come on, you¡¯ve got to give me something.¡±

    ¡°We can bathe and sleep together if you keep your hands to yourself.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m a spooner.¡±

    ¡°Spoon your wife.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t. You¡¯re sleeping in the middle.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Fine. Hands over the clothes.¡±

    ¡°Deal!¡±

    ¡°Not so fast. One condition. No assistance from your thralls. You know, the mind readers.¡±

    It¡¯s my turn to frown now. I fully intended to use them of course. These tests are a measure of our ability. My elementals are a part of my ability, aren¡¯t they?

    What? I¡¯m cheating?

    Please. From what I¡¯ve heard of this test, the use of magic isn¡¯t prohibited. It¡¯s the Grand Hall, for saints¡¯ sake. To not use every advantage at my disposal would be a disgrace.

    ¡°Thought I¡¯d forget about that?¡± she says smugly.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°If you want to win, you¡¯re going to have to do it by yourself.¡± Her smile says that she highly doubts that I can.

    ¡°Hmph.¡± I stick out my hand. She grabs it and gives it a firm shake. ¡°When you lose, no stalling. I¡¯ll expect you over promptly.¡±

    ¡°Same to you.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers--04

    Mano finishes his speech and we move en masse toward the Caster Hall. In a rare moment, I can see the other three groups of this year¡¯s initiates, each led by a young caster who I¡¯m guessing are other assistant instructors. I give them a quick glance but they¡¯re nothing special, the dozens of bodies making them a featureless crowd as we cram into the building.

    Our group splits from the rest as Mano leads us into an empty classroom, directing us to sit at the long tables. A few moments later, an acolyte wearing a blue robe enters pushing a cart with what looks to be clay tablets stacked atop it. His eyes light with mana and the tablets slowly rise before flying through room to land before each initiate.

    I grab the one that¡¯s stopped near me, turning it over. On one side are fifty lines in ten rows of five. On the other is an enchantment that I vaguely recognize. After a moment, it comes to me. It¡¯s the spell that I used in Summer Spire to measure my coefficient on a much smaller scale.

    ¡°For those who don¡¯t recognize what you are holding, it is commonly called a mana reader. Unimaginative, yes, but very accurate. To use it, focus on the enchantment and channel your mana through it. The closer you get to empty, the more it will hurt. Do as much as you are able but remember, this is your best chance to impress the Hall. Your determination is also a part of that. Begin when you are ready.¡±

    Many of the initiates jump right into the test and I¡¯m right behind them. These people are devious. I know the effects of mana depletion firsthand. If the initiates push themselves to empty every drop into the mana readers, they¡¯re going to have to deal with a bastard of a headache and some serious pain. I wonder how well they can focus on a written assessment after that. I wonder if knowing restraint is another part of the test?

    Keeping that in mind, once I feel the first painful twinges in my chest, I stop channeling the spell. I turn the tablet over. As expected, the lines are glowing with my energy. Almost twenty-eight of them. A little less than 140.

    Not bad¡­if you forget about Geneva. After my rebirth, I had a coefficient of 164. My contract with the succubus don took roughly 100 units of mana, leaving with about 60 units available. That leaves me with a rough growth of 80 units of mana and a total of around 264. Then again, I haven¡¯t put all my mana into this test. Seeing as things tend to get painful once someone drops to around a quarter of their mana, I could squeeze out another 40 units, give or take.

    Casters are roughly divided by their coefficients, starting with ¡®basic¡¯ casters with coefficients below 80 units up to master casters with a minimum of 500 units.

    An adept, the minimum level to be an instructor at the Hall, requires a coefficient between 250 and 350. It¡¯s nothing special. Adept is the level to be considered a competent caster, leaving skill out of the question of course. However, achieving that coefficient at my age? Ridiculous.

    Too bad that since we¡¯re pretending Geneva is a thrall, whose coefficients max out around 400 to 450 units, anyone looking at my evaluation will have me pegged as an advanced caster with a coefficient between 150 and 250. Not nearly as impressive, as some initiates come here with that level of mana.

    I can see many others make the same choice of not pouring everything they have into the tablets, though plenty do. A young man catches my attention when his shaking arms drop his tablet and he falls forward, passing out. Oof. He¡¯s going to have a rough time of it.

    Alana is one of the sensible ones. With a faint grimace, she sets down the mana reader. She takes a few moments to catch her breath before turning to me. ¡°Show you mine if you show me yours?¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Sure.¡± We swap readers. On hers, just shy of forty lines are filled. 198 or 199, I¡¯d guess. ¡°How much did you come here with?¡±

    ¡°Around 160. Late start as I didn¡¯t discover my light affinity until I was almost fourteen.¡±

    ¡°That is late.¡±

    ¡°Which makes it all the sadder that I¡¯ve thrashed you. How much did you come here with?¡±

    ¡°64.¡±

    She blinks. ¡°That¡¯s¡­incredible growth.¡±

    ¡°It is. And you¡¯re forgetting I¡¯m a summoner. We permanently sacrifice some our mana to bind our elementals to that realm.¡±

    Her eyes widen. ¡°So it¡¯s really¡­¡±

    ¡°Add another forty to that. And that¡¯s not including what we¡¯re holding back because of the test.¡±

    ¡°Saints.¡±

    ¡°You want to praise me, don¡¯t you? Feel free. I can take it.¡±

    ¡°You do a good enough job yourself.¡± We take back our own readers. ¡°We¡¯ll call this one a tie, then.¡±

    ¡°We weren¡¯t competing on this.¡±

    ¡°I thought your wife taught you it¡¯s always a competition.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°This is not her idea of a competition.¡± That usually involves blood.

    As the others finish, Mano steps toward the first table, holding a clipboard. He steps up to the nearest initiate. They have a brief exchange and he writes something down before moving on. After a few minutes he reaches Alana.

    ¡°Hello. Full name please.¡±

    ¡°Alana James.¡±

    He writes and I know it¡¯s more than her name. My guess, he¡¯s recording her state, noting that she isn¡¯t passed out from overexerting herself. ¡°Your coefficient upon entering the Hall?¡±

    ¡°160.¡±

    ¡°And may I see your reader?¡±

    She hands it over. Mano glances at it and scribbles. ¡°Excellent growth, Lady James. Although Mana Work will no longer be mandatory, I highly recommend continuing the exercises. While your gains will slow, there is still no better way to grow one¡¯s pool. The road to becoming a master caster is a long one.¡±

    ¡°Ah, sure.¡±

    He inclines his head before moving on to me. ¡°Lou. I¡¯m excited to see your progress.¡±

    ¡°Prepared to be amazed.¡±

    ¡°One moment.¡± He quickly writes his notes. ¡°Coefficient before arrival?¡±

    ¡°64.¡± I hand over the reader before being prompted. He takes it, both brows rising. ¡°That is¡­phenomenal. Though I expect¡ªah, wait a moment. You¡¯re a summoner. With a contracted thrall, you should have gone beyond 150 and growing your pool would have become more difficult. I take it back. This is exceptional. I think you will impress a few instructors indeed. You seem to have a gift in channeling mana. I highly suggest you continue your exercises.¡± He¡¯s smiling as he moves to the next initiate.

    ¡°Tie my ass,¡± I say quietly. ¡°Exceptional beats excellent.¡±

    ¡°Good thing there¡¯s wasn¡¯t a bet on this test. And too bad all that mana doesn¡¯t do a thing for your brain, degenerate.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see¡­¡±

    Once Mano has finished noting the results from all the initiates, he collects the readers, stacking them back on top of the cart. ¡°Good job, everyone,¡± he says, standing at the front. ¡°You¡¯ll be given ten minutes to rest. Then an instructor will be here to administer your written exam. Good luck. I hope to see you all as acolytes in the spring.¡±

    The room lets out a chorus of flat farewells as he leaves the room with the cart.

    ¡°Double or nothing?¡±

    ¡°What were you thinking?¡±

    ¡°200 gold coins if you win. If I win¡­¡± I pause, holding back a laugh. ¡°You have to act like an adoring wife. Act!¡± I say hurriedly into her scowl.

    ¡°You want me to call you hubby, Lou?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s your thing.¡± The expected punch to my shoulder comes. ¡°Hm. We¡¯re going to have to try a few. Try darling.¡±

    ¡°Darling,¡± she says in the same tone someone might say ¡®bastard¡¯ or ¡®horse shit¡¯.

    ¡°That¡¯s not it. How about¡­honey.¡±

    ¡°Honey.¡± Oh, not quite as demeaning. Sounds more like she¡¯s saying ¡®disgusting rat¡¯ but it¡¯s an improvement.

    ¡°Sweetheart?¡±

    ¡°Sweetheart.¡± Mm, nope. We¡¯re going backward. That sounded like ¡®pus-covered gutter trash¡¯.

    We go through a few more with varying success, none get the response I¡¯m looking for. I¡¯m running out of ideas when I say ¡°Stud.¡± I raise a brow as that gets a reaction. Not a good one of course. No, I get the nastiest scowl yet.

    ¡°Absolutely not.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡±

    ¡°I hate you so very, very much,¡± she sighs. ¡°Honey or hubby, pick.¡±

    ¡°Which one makes you more uncomfortable?¡±

    She gives me a look that says she¡¯s deeply considering running me through with her sword.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re getting so upset since you¡¯re not going to lose.¡± I wink at her. ¡°Hubby then.¡±

    ¡°Only because I¡¯m not going to lose,¡± she says holding out a hand. Once again, we shake on our agreement and relax while waiting for the instructor to come.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-05

    I turn when I hear the door open, surprised to recognize the one who will presiding over our exam.

    Miss Talia enters the room, her eyes closed as usual, dressed in a simple gray robe. She glides down the aisle between the tables, the young girl who I recognize as her attendant following behind her with another cart, this one with papers stacked a top it. I hear many of the initiates speaking about her closed eyes, and a few of the men about her beauty, as she moves to the front of the room.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± she says smoothly. ¡°My name is Umphrieltalia. I am not an instructor, but the dorm mother of the Gold Dorm. I have been asked to assist the instructors and I assure you that I am very qualified to do so.

    ¡°You will be given a test paper with twenty questions and a blank paper on which to write your answers. Answer as many questions as you can in the time allotted. Do not speak to anyone. Do not attempt to cheat, as I will know. I am allowed to clarify questions. If you require, raise a hand and wait for me to come to you. Are there any questions?¡±

    If someone did have any questions, I doubt they¡¯d ask. Miss Talia¡¯s presence is both oppressive an unnerving. I know that the other initiates can feel her attention on them, something their minds are telling them is impossible given her closed eyes. At least I know she has a powerful mental affinity. They have to endure the weight of her scrutiny without understanding it on top of the mounting stress of the impending exam.

    ¡°Very good. Marie, please pass out the tests.¡± Ah, that was her name.

    [Good morning, Lou.]

    I nod toward Miss Talia as I hear her voice in my mind. Good morning to you as well.

    [I should inform you that I was specifically chosen to administer the test for your group because of you and your succubi.]

    I understand but I must admit to being disappointed. As a summoner, shouldn¡¯t my elementals count as part of my abilities? I can understand forcibly reading someone¡¯s mind being a big no no, but I have no intention of doing any of the sort.

    [You are correct. The Hall would not begrudge the use of your elementals. As you say, it is a part of your strength. There are mental spells that can aid in recall. To ban your elementals would mean banning all mental casters as well. What I am here to prevent is the use of your succubi to aid others. Many attendants of the Hall are quite wealthy and would pay good money indeed to achieve perfect scores. The instructors need correct information from which to invite new students so I can¡¯t allow this.]

    Saints damn it, that is a wonderful idea. I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t think of it. Ah, well, you have nothing to worry about. I¡¯m currently in the middle of a competition that doesn¡¯t permit the use of succubi.

    [Yes. A competition with the blonde beside you. You have yet to introduce me.]

    Hm. Is that a note of displeasure? I can never be sure with Miss Talia. Really, you¡¯re a hard woman to get a hold of. You¡¯ve declined many invitations over the past few weeks. I missed you.

    [Unfortunately, the Grandmaster himself asked me to assist the crown in its investigation of Quest. Besides that, there have been a series of incidents in the Gold Dorm, petty grievances, and violence. It seems the young nobility have become restless.]

    This time, I can clearly make out a hint of disappointment, along with the smallest downturn of her lips. Why don¡¯t you suggest something? With the impending end of mandatory lessons, I¡¯ll have all the time in the world.

    [Hm. I will have to think on it. For now, good luck with your test.]

    Thank you, but I don¡¯t need luck.

    Once Marie finishes handing everyone their papers, Miss Talia announces for us to begin.

    I look at the question sheet. Hm. Twenty questions divided into four categories of mana, spellcraft, enchantment, and history. Mano didn¡¯t lie, there is no way initiates would be able to answer all of these. And some of them are deceptively simple. The first question on the page is something I¡¯d expect.

    What is mana?

    The simple answer, the one that even children know, is that mana is energy. A fundamental force that powers the world.

    While there is a simple answer, there are also plenty of casters who dedicate their lives to the mystery of mana. Whole books have been written on the subject. Some could say we don¡¯t know what mana is. I wonder what kind of score that answer will get.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    They have questions that progress in difficulty, I assume to gauge someone¡¯s skill. There¡¯s the question¡ª

    Construct a basic and intermediate spell of each affinity.

    -which is simple enough, I suppose. For the basic spell, you can do the ¡®arrow¡¯ spell which is just throwing a mass of the affinity in a direction. Intermediate spells are also easy as any channeled spell can be considered intermediate, which is as simple as leaving out the mana coefficient in a spell and replacing with a channeling variable.

    Right below that is an impossible question.

    Construct an advanced and master spell of each affinity.

    For saints sake, a master spell of each affinity? If these questions were being scored, we¡¯d all fail. Master spells are in an entirely different league. They¡¯re the spells that can raise a building in one day, call down storms, and blow away a city¡¯s walls. They¡¯re the spells that string along dozens of variables, compounding several smaller spells into massive feats of magic. Master-level spells are priceless, the knowledge of them strictly monitored by the kingdom. And they¡¯re asking for one for each affinity? Saints give me the strength. Anyone who can do that needs to skip right past acolyte and straight to instructor.

    Of course, compared to some of the mind-bendingly complex spells Geneva has shown me that weave together thousands upon thousands of variables, it¡¯s child¡¯s play, but I can¡¯t even look at those without getting dizzy.

    I barely pause on the section on enchanting.

    The last section is history. Interestingly enough, not just about the Harvest Kingdom. The very first question is¡ª

    What was the event that caused the division of the races? What caused the event?

    Whew. What a loaded question. I know what the history books tell us. I also know what the elves have passed down. I¡¯ve listened to the firsthand accounts and information Geneva gathered from other succubi contracted during the time. Despite that, I can¡¯t answer the question confidently.

    For humanity, the Great War came about when goblinoids attacked their settlements on Green Mountain, forcing them to flee to the yet unconquered Harvest. Why they suddenly attacked is lost to history, though some say it was a result of decades of persecution against the far weaker and less intelligent races.

    Why the dragons warred, shattering their continent into the group of islands now known as the Dragon Isles, no one knows. We do know that the aftermath could be felt around the world and that draconids fled to every continent, bringing devastation as they sought to build new homes.

    Fighting dragon kin is impossible for all but the greatest heroes. Which meant that the other races had no choice but to fight against themselves. The goblinoids chased humans to Harvest, fighting hard for the coast. Once they fled toward the south, they involved the elves in the, who reigned death on the southern half of the continent. At the end of the day, the fighting was too intense for anyone to stop and wonder ¡®How did we get here?¡¯

    I find myself feeling taxed when I finally set down the quill, enchanted to use mana for ink amazingly. I haven¡¯t answered as many questions as I imagined when I heard there were going to be twenty, but I¡¯m confident I¡¯ve demonstrated an above average understanding of the topics. I could have amazed someone by writing out a few master spells, as I understand the theory well enough, but there¡¯s no need for that. Like I said, priceless, every single one of them. I¡¯d be harassed every day, besieged by people wondering who taught me or wondering how they missed such a prodigy. The last thing I need are a bunch of casters salivating over me.

    Despite my closed eyes, I can track the others¡¯ progress. Some people are muttering to themselves, racking their brains for every little fact they can remember. A few quills write with barely a pause, the scholars in our midst enjoying the exercise. There are quiet groans from the unprepared, lamenting their lack of focus.

    After enjoying a buffet of expletives meant for no one¡¯s ears from someone near the front, I turn my focus to my friend. Alana¡¯s quill is still moving, pausing often as she contemplates the questions. I don¡¯t want to put Miss Talia in a bind by blatantly looking at her paper so I can only guess as to her progress but from her slightly elevated heart rate and more frequent sighs, she¡¯s not doing as well as she¡¯d hope.

    ¡°Should have studied more,¡± I whisper once I hear her put her quill down.

    ¡°You put your quill down before me,¡± she whispers back even more quietly, having plenty of experience with my hearing.

    ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m confident in my knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Confident enough to up the wager?¡±

    ¡°Where does this end? Pretty soon you¡¯ll be wagering your hand in marriage.¡±

    ¡°And what are you going to offer me in return? I won¡¯t even consider it for anything less than¡­the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s what you want.¡± Hah, I really wish that¡¯s what you wanted. I¡¯d gladly dethrone a king. But for now, we¡¯ll keep playing pretend. ¡°You raising the bet to three hundred gold?¡±

    She huffs. ¡°Yeah. And if you win¡­¡±

    ¡°Then our fun day becomes a fun weekend. Oh, and you have to call me honey the entire time. Like you mean it, Alana.¡±

    ¡°Damn it, Lou.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re getting off easy. The last woman who tried to get that much gold off me¡ª¡±

    ¡°Agh, fine. You¡¯re going to lose anyway.¡±

    ¡°When you lose, don¡¯t take it too hard.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say, honey.¡±

    Shivers go down my spine. ¡°I take it back.¡± Saints give me patience, if she calls me that in that tone of a little shy wife, I¡¯m going to do something stupid. ¡°No deal.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. You can¡¯t take it back, honey. We¡¯re on.¡±

    I let out a controlled breath to combat the strange twisting in my gut that word causes. ¡°One of these days, you¡¯re going to have to take responsibility for toying with maidens the way you do, rogue.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Point out those supposed maidens first. And you¡¯ll be taking responsibility before me, you flirt. It¡¯s a good thing people can¡¯t have pure affinities or you¡¯d burn away the clothes of every pretty girl that passes your sight with your shameless thoughts.¡±

    That¡¯d be a whole new way of undressing someone with my eyes, heh. ¡°Bring it on. I¡¯d be well on my way to establishing my harem by now if it weren¡¯t for you. Don¡¯t worry. I like jealous women, too.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s jealous?¡± she hisses.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-06

    We exchange quiet barbs until the time runs out. Miss Talia stops by each initiate to collect their test and speaks with them briefly, informing them of the time for their interview, the second part of the qualifiers. From the sounds of it, they¡¯ll doing them for several days.

    ¡°Alana James. Your interview is scheduled in one hour, room 107.¡±

    ¡°Lou. Your interview will be conducted once this test concludes, here. Do not leave.¡±

    That¡¯s interesting. ¡°Hey, when will these tests be scored?¡±

    ¡°All results will be announced upon the conclusion of the qualifiers.¡± She waits a beat, I guess for any more questions, before moving on to the next initiate.

    ¡°You get a lot of special treatment,¡± Alana said, no longer bothering to lower her voice.

    ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m a very special girl.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± I purposely don¡¯t turn, knowing my weakness for her steely gaze. ¡°One of these days, I¡¯m going to learn your secrets.¡±

    ¡°You can learn them today.¡±

    ¡°If I join your harem.¡±

    ¡°You understand perfectly.¡± Sorry, my best friend. I trust you, I do. With my life but not with my secrets. Not because I don¡¯t think you would keep them. You¡¯re one of those rare heroes willing to put her life on the line for others. Unfortunately, you don¡¯t have the strength to back up that conviction, not yet. So, no dangerous information in your head, where anyone with the power can snatch it. No making me and yourself a target. The day I give you my secrets is they day you make a commitment to me. Then, I¡¯ll give you everything¡­

    ¡°That¡¯s never going to happen, pervert.¡±

    ¡°Just how you¡¯re so sure you¡¯re not going to lose?¡± I chuckle. ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±

    -

    As the initiates filter out of the room, I alone remain seated on the bench, thoughts wandering aimlessly as I await my interview. I tried to engage Marie in conversation but she rejects the invitation with a look of disdain before walking away.

    Guess she still doesn¡¯t like me for hogging Miss Talia¡¯s attention. I really hate to step in the way of a burgeoning comrade but I am also a greedy woman. Miss Talia is a rare treasure, a beautiful mystery that I¡¯ve just begun to unravel.

    I crane my neck as the door opens behind me. Miss Talia re-enters the room. Following her is a teacher I don¡¯t recognize. He¡¯s older than any instructor I¡¯ve seen to date, with deep wrinkles across his sickly pale face and a head of thinning silver hair.

    Dark eyes with heavy bags dart over the room in an unsettling manner before settling on me. They pause for a moment before continuing their rapid movements, fingers tapping a rhythm on his thigh. A large brown robe swaddles his thin body, something I guess at from the hint of his skinny arms I can see. His steps are slow and uneven. Rather than a smooth gait, it¡¯d be more accurate to say that he lurches forward, catching his balance before taking another unstable lunge forward. It¡¯s strange; the poor elder looks a few years from his grave, an emaciated skeleton of a man, but he¡¯s got the energy of a boy, so much energy it¡¯s as if he can¡¯t quite control himself.

    Sitting on his shoulders is the root of the dichotomy. It¡¯s hard to see its transparent form that blurs as the light strikes it but that in itself is a clue to its origin. The most solid part of the creature is its tail, a smoky trail of blue and silver that reminds me of starlight. It¡¯s enough to identify it.

    That¡¯s a Blue Moon Reaper from Singing Sky Realm. A desolate realm, but not in the way most people would think of it. Wasteland brings to mind visions of cracked, dry earth where no green thing can survive. Of dried-up riverbeds and unrelenting weather, whether it be the oppressive heat of the sun or storms of swirling dust.

    In Singing Sky, there is no ground. Down, there is nothing, a gaping void that not even the realm¡¯s residents have seen the bottom of. They can¡¯t. Something repels anything that attempts to go into the void. All creatures live in the sky, swimming amongst the stars like fish in a vast sea.

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    Which is not so surprising as the residents are creatures made purely of mana. They eat and breathe it, a delicate balance of give and take. One of its inhabitants may devour another as sustenance, only to burst apart into tinier motes of mana in their version of birth. A simplified explanation, but we beings of flesh need a context for the intricate workings of creatures of mana.

    What we do know, is that creatures from Singing Sky don¡¯t mix well with creatures on this plane. Despite our fleshy shells, they have no problem feasting on our mana. Unfortunately, we need mana to survive. Double unfortunately, it¡¯s extremely hard to kill something with no physical form.

    The worst part is that they feed on mana naturally, meaning their natural instinct is to attack all sources of mana. A single one can devastate an area, killing everything down to the grass and the insects crawling on their stalks. They are one of the most dangerous elementals ever contracted by a summoner, the residents of the realm collectively known as reapers due to their lethality.

    This old guy is walking around with a killing machine perched on his shoulders, a very docile one seeing as its not tearing into us. This is the guy they brought to interview me? Why him? With that thing, he¡¯d be better off serving as an assassin. Maybe¡­no. Best to not make assumptions.

    The instructor following behind him surprises me even more.

    Aurelius strides into the room, bald as ever, feet still refusing to touch the ground. His gaze finds mine and he gives me a small smile. I reflexively snarl at him.

    Well, this interview just got a whole lot more complicated.

    The three instructors settle on the seats in front of me, the men seated on either side of Miss Talia. I try my best to stay focused on her to calm my irritable mood but my eyes keep flicking over to the silver-robed menace. And occasionally to the reaper that makes me a little nervous. I don¡¯t imagine many things can hurt me now but that little thing might be one of them.

    ¡°Lourianne Tome, this is a standard interview conducted for all potential initiates for the purpose of providing insight for your future at the Hall and to give your instructors an idea as to a potential student. All questions are voluntary. Refusing to answer a question will not impact the score on your other tests or your qualifiers as a whole. Do you understand?¡± Miss Talia asks.

    Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better. ¡°Thank you for the opportunity,¡± I say respectfully, indulging the solemn atmosphere.

    ¡°Good. Per tradition, we will start with introductions. I am Umphrieltalia, a higher adept mental caster. I represent the administration of the Hall.¡±

    Miss Talia turns to Aurelius, who inclines his head. ¡°An introduction is a little redundant but tradition compels us. I am Aurelius, a master wind caster. I am here to represent the spellcrafting instructors and researchers.¡±

    He smiles softly, but I don¡¯t believe an inch of it. ¡°My presence here might alarm you so let me put your mind at ease. I was sent here by the Grandmaster himself. He wishes to make sure that we have put our past unpleasantness behind us firmly and that is also my wish. I owe you an apology, Lady Tome. I hope from here on, we can work together as fellow casters of the Hall.¡±

    ¡°¡­likewise, Master Aurelius.¡± I bet my smile looks as fake as his. There are many interesting little tidbits of information in his speech. Most important is that he was scolded by Dunwayne. I can understand the Hall not wanting to come down too harshly on one of its master casters but it appears he is being watched by the Harvest Hero himself. I doubt he¡¯ll be trying anything against me for a good while, perhaps even for the rest of my duration at the Hall.

    ¡°Excellent. I know firsthand of your abilities. Any instructor would be happy to have you. Perhaps I shall even see you in my own classes.¡±

    Not on your life. ¡°It would be an honor but I have other goals.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. I¡¯m being rather rude. Please, Lord Renterra.¡±

    He inclined his head toward the fossil who lets out an annoyed ¡®hmph¡¯. The light changes and I can make out a few more details of the reaper on his shoulder; the vague shape of a long head with no features, a plump torso, and four fin-like appendages, two on either side.

    Lord Renterra gives me a calculating glare. ¡°Reveron Renterra, summoner, and that is the only title I need, Tome brat,¡± he says in a voice made higher in his old age.

    ¡°A pleasure to meet you. You know of me?¡±

    ¡°Hmph. I knew your father, that brat Luke. Arrogant bastard. Always prancing around with his damn theories. Good theories, mind you, and he had a steady hand with his circles. Deserved to be proud. The Tomes are a distinguished line of summoners.¡±

    I just hold myself back from preening under his words. It¡¯s just so rare that anyone acknowledges my family that I can¡¯t help being tickled by the praise.

    ¡°Let his pride get in his way a little though. Contracts a bargain, most of the time uneven ones. Luke always wanted more, wanted the best the realms have to offer, but wasn¡¯t willing to sacrifice in return. Why he never contracted anything but those little mites of his. Should have made something of themselves by now.¡±

    ¡°Father¡¯s elementals have grown very much, yes.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Men are such fragile things compared to the creatures we seek to contract. If your father had the lifespan of a dragon, he could have an army of powerful elementals for barely anything.¡±

    A dragon summoner. Now there¡¯s a scary thought.

    ¡°But all he has now is theory, hmph.¡±

    ¡°If we have finished the introductions,¡± Miss Talia interrupts. ¡°Then we will continue with the questions. Traditionally, spellcrafting is given the first chance to speak. Master Aurelius.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-07

    ¡°Thank you. Shall we start with something simple? What do you think a fire caster is?¡±

    ¡°A fighter. A force of nature.¡± I stop just short of calling them a weapon, as that might come across as callous.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    I blink. Is that a joke? ¡°Fire is destructive. Save light, there is no better affinity for combat.¡± For bringing harm. ¡°An average fire caster will have as much success fighting monsters¡ª¡± and men but let¡¯s leave that unsaid, ¡°¡ªas a powerful caster from any other affinity.¡±

    ¡°All very true. However, having a fire affinity does not mean one must become a combatant. There are other ways it can be used, for the betterment of people and society. I¡¯m sure you can think of one.¡±

    Can I? Wait, I can. ¡°Some fire casters are used to incinerate a city¡¯s waste to make it more manageable.¡± I remember my father specifically telling me about ¡®waste casters¡¯ in a bid to motivate me in my studies. Truly, thinking about learning magic just to handle other people¡¯s trash sounds depressing but it is rather profitable, given the space it saves and the value of cleanliness.

    ¡°A good example. However, there are many others. There are fire caster smiths who use spells to directly heat metal, combining alloys no one else can. There are cooks who use their mastery of the fire affinity to create wonderful dishes. Some work in greenhouses in Summer Spire and Rosentheim, creating optimal environments to grow special plants used in both research and medicine. There exist a myriad of ways to use your abilities, Lady Tome. I want you to consider that as you move forward with your studies.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see.¡± The bald bastard is actually making a good point. I don¡¯t really know all the ways to use my abilities. My vision of spellcrafting is colored by heroic epics, men using magic to battle monsters. Even with Geneva, I¡¯ve asked her how to use my affinities to defend myself, not all the ways to simply use my magic.

    ¡°Good. I only say as much to highlight that the Hall values all casters, no matter what role they play. Which leads me into my next question. Would you be more interested those alternate routes for casters or do your interests lie in combat?¡±

    ¡°¡­a little of both, I suppose. My goal is to see the world. I¡¯m sure that will involve fighting my share of monsters and a few creative uses of mana.¡± Or the liberal application of gold to find someone to do those things for me.

    Aurelius¡¯ smile twitches. What are you imagining right now that¡¯s got you riled up enough to break that pleasant mask? ¡°I see. Then, are you an explorer or are you¡­planning to relocate?¡±

    ¡°May I ask how such a thing is relevant?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Some instructors see their students as apprentices and expect them to succeed their research and duties within the kingdom. If you did not plan to linger in the Harvest Kingdom, you would be a poor fit. Life is short, after all.¡±

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    For some. ¡°For the moment, I simply plan to explore and not for a few years yet. Though I don¡¯t relish the idea of taking up someone¡¯s torch, no.¡±

    ¡°Would you be interested in working with the guilds? There are many instructors who are affiliated with one or the other. They can provide many opportunities for those seeking entry into a guild or one of the knight orders.¡±

    I take a moment to think on the question. In the future, I will have quite a bit of time on my hands. Do I want to spend days of it out in the wilderness, alongside a bunch of dirty, smelly men hunting monsters? On the one hand, that sounds absolutely horrible. On the other hand, I could use the practice. Oh, and what if there¡¯s other young women hopeful to get in good with the hunters? Would we be ¡®forced¡¯ to share a tent?

    ¡°I¡¯m not opposed to it,¡± I say, fighting to keep a smile off my face. ¡°I have other responsibilities and demands on my time, however, that would keep me from extended campaigns.¡±

    ¡°Understandable.¡± He leans forward, I suppose to emphasize the seriousness of his coming words, and his smile dims, becoming more solemn. ¡°What is the role of a caster in society?¡±

    ¡°The role of casters¡­¡± There are so many. Casters are integral to every aspect of life, or at least, the betterment of it. A skilled water caster can end a drought. An earth caster can do the work of a hundred laborers. A simple healer reliant on herbs and potions can never match the prowess of a physical caster. Despite all of that, the most important duty of casters would be¡­

    ¡°Protectors. Knights and hunters keep the monsters at bay. Without those willing to hold them back, there would be no Harvest Kingdom.¡± In the end, casters are admired and respected for their might. Sure, some master smith may make a lot of gold and a fancy chef may be buried in praise, but everyone bows down to the one who can throw the biggest fireball, end of story.

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°Was that not the right answer?¡± Your tone sure says it isn¡¯t.

    ¡°As Miss Umphrieltalia said, there are no right or wrong answers. Simply revealing ones. By saying a caster¡¯s most important role is to protect others, one could say you are rather noble. Or a romantic.¡±

    ¡°Oh? May I ask what other answers have been given?¡±

    ¡°Some have said that a caster¡¯s role is that of a ruler, tying their power to authority. Some say that a caster should liken themselves to servants, humbling themselves before the crown to not be swayed by their power. I have even heard someone say casters are meant to be heroes, with all the chivalric duties such a title implies.¡±

    ¡°I think that would be the romantic.¡±

    He laughs. ¡°Indeed. Then, my final question for you. What are the roles of those with no talent for casting?¡±

    My brows furrow. Role? What role? Does he mean the role of peasants? But peasants aren¡¯t the only one who can¡¯t cast. While a noble¡¯s bloodline and education heighten the chance of producing a strong caster, they can just as easily have a poor talent for cultivating mana and frankly, not have the mental aptitude for building spells. Non-casters are everywhere in society.

    ¡°I suppose they can have whatever role they desire.¡± Or that they can manage. If a man is clever enough, devious enough, and lucky enough, he can be king without the slightest talent for casting. It doesn¡¯t take magic to lead and having magic doesn¡¯t make one all-powerful.

    For example, Aurelius. He does everything he can to portray a powerful presence, refusing to walk on the same ground as mere mortals. Even now, he¡¯s not seated in his chair but remains hovering above it, his feet off the ground. Despite what he wants people to believe, he¡¯s still just a man. A stone to the back of his head will take him down just as easily as it would the average farmer. A feat much harder to accomplish with him playing at being a bird, but the truth.

    ¡°Any role they desire, is it?¡± He shakes his head softly. ¡°Very well. I conclude my portion of the interview.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-08

    ¡°Very well. Lord Westerly, please begin.¡±

    The old man clears his throat and the reaper on his shoulders moves, flowing off his shoulders gracefully to curl inside his lap, flickering in and out of view. ¡°Firstly, do you understand how the Summoning Hall works, girl?¡±

    ¡°The bare minimum.¡± When I go to the Hall, it isn¡¯t too converse. The only other summoner I speak to at all is Kristoff, simply because he works the front desk of the library. A few others who frequent the library may exchange greetings but they are in too much of a hurry to sit and chat.

    ¡°Hmph. Let me enlighten you.¡± He sniffs. ¡°Unlike the other Halls, we don¡¯t have classes. As you should know, summoning is an individualistic art. There are general courses for the ignorant but every summoner is allowed to go about their work as they see fit.¡±

    I nod in understanding. As it should be.

    ¡°That also means that they are responsible for securing their own resources. The Grand Summoner, the head of the Summoning Hall, has the authority to allocate some of the Hall¡¯s resources but only to projects he wants to sponsor.¡±

    Which means summoners that support him, I suppose. This must be what Miss Alyssa warned me about.

    ¡°New summoners find it difficult securing enough resources to fund their own projects their first years as acolytes. As such, it¡¯s normal for them to apprentice themselves to a more senior summoner, working for resources and to build their own reputation in the Hall. Your father did the same, heh. Little brat hated every minute of it.¡±

    ¡°He told me of his apprenticeship.¡±

    ¡°Hah! That¡¯s a surprise. He hated being embarrassed most of all. I remember the chaos at the Hall when he first proposed that Zero Affinity Theory of his. Everything¡¯s wrong until it¡¯s proven right and there were boys lining up to take him down a peg or two. He must have fought a dozen duels defending his fledgling theory, though he couldn¡¯t throw a decent punch for all the crowns in the kingdom. Boy hit like a Featherfoot from Billowing Dream Realm, hah!¡±

    I hold back a snicker. Billowing Dream realm is a water realm with no landmasses and a sky of endless clouds. The constantly turbulent waters are supposedly full of abominations feared by all planewalkers but above the clouds is a paradise of soft, friendly creatures. One of the most notable is a Featherfoot, something that resembles a very plump rabbit with small, feathery wings on its back. It¡¯s about as threatening as a puppy without claws.

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    Aurelius ¡®politely¡¯ clears his throat. ¡°Lord Westerly, if you could proceed? There are other interviews I need to attend today.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Young ones are always in a rush. Very well.¡± He clears his throat. ¡°Do you plan to be an independent summoner or work in an established team?¡±

    ¡°Independent.¡±

    ¡°Heh. They all say that. Fine, fine. Are you in it for research or¡­practical application?¡± In his lap, the reaper stirred.

    ¡°Every decent summoner is in it for the research.¡± A summoner who doesn¡¯t document is a summoner who doesn¡¯t care. ¡°However, I lean toward practical application as you put it. Elementals aren¡¯t showpieces.¡±

    ¡°No, they are not.¡± He smiles, revealing suspiciously good teeth for a man his age, especially given the rest of his appearance. ¡°What realm are you planning on sticking your mitts in? I¡¯ve heard rumors you dabble with the succubi but I won¡¯t believe a Tome plans on throwing their lot in with the Grimoires.¡±

    ¡°That¡­is a secret.¡±

    The old man jerks at my words. Slowly, his spine straightens and his eyes narrow, giving him a presence he lacked. The reaper on his lap stirs again, its ethereal body flickering in and out of view as it flexes its fins, swimming through the air. Our gazes lock, neither of us giving the other an inch.

    ¡°I¡¯ve known many summoners with ¡®secrets¡¯. Their secrets tend to be dangerous for themselves and others.¡±

    ¡°Sounds more like fools than summoners.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate elementals, girl. They are powerful and cunning. If they accept a contract, it is because they have agendas, some of which we can never understand. Some very dangerous. There are creatures that should never touch this realm.¡±

    Who does this man think he is speaking too? What does he know about powerful elementals? I watched a god walk into this realm. A creature with a coefficient of a thousand that could single-handedly bring this country to ruin if let off her leash makes me breakfast every morning.

    ¡°The only thing dangerous in summoning is a lack of information. I could argue your little fishie is one of those elementals that should never touch this realm. The devastation it could unleash if not properly managed is unimaginable but there it is.¡± I gesture towards it for emphasis.

    ¡°Protecting myself is my own responsibility.¡± If I were still human, guaranteeing I can take care of myself no matter what I summon is pure hubris. No matter how many precautions a summoner takes, if they stray outside the established paths of their predecessors, they always take the chance of running into something that can melt their minds at a glance. My family¡¯s art can be dangerous. Risking your life to secure a better contract or obtain new knowledge is a given. A summoner only has one responsibility when it comes to inviting guests to our realm.

    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid enough to invite a calamity into our midst and that¡¯s all you and the Hall need to be concerned about.¡±

    We hold each other¡¯s gazes for several more moments. Lord Westerly is the first to break, huffing as he looks away. He gestures with a hand and the reaper lands on his shoulder, its visible tail curling around his neck loosely. ¡°Spoken like a true summoner. Pray to the saints something doesn¡¯t slurp your brain from your ears before you have a chance to live up to that Tome pride, Luke¡¯s girl.¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s hoping,¡± I say drily.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-09

    ¡°I¡¯ve concluded my questions,¡± he says, slumping in his seat, his powerful presence replaced by a tired old man who looks annoyed at his circumstances.

    ¡°Then I will continue begin the questions for the administration,¡± Miss Talia says.

    I perk up, leaning forward with a smile. ¡°Ask me anything you like.¡±

    She folds her hands in her laps. [I will be conducting this portion of the interview through the use of the mental affinity. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can end the interview here with no repercussions but those interested in you will assume you are rejecting the opportunity.]

    I¡¯ve never had a problem with you in my head. Curious what kind of opportunity the Hall is offering that needs this amount of secrecy.

    [Before we begin, I will inform you and your elementals that I am merely using my abilities to confirm the truth of your words.]

    Heh, my succubi may not be right beside me, since Alana insisted as if distance would be enough to stop them from helping me if I desired, but I am well within their influence. I¡¯d never actually make myself vulnerable by being without at least one of my servants.

    [Then, let me begin by introducing the parties interested in you. This is not merely an interview from the administration of the Hall but also from the crown.]

    I stiffen reflexively. It takes a few deep breaths to consciously relax my body and quell my instinctive response to reject this entire conversation. What does the king and his court want with me?

    [You have not gone unnoticed, Lou. I have been instructed to communicate the Hall¡¯s wishes first.]

    Why?

    [No explanation was given.]

    Hm. If I had to guess, the Hall wants to make their position clear before the king starts lobbing bundles of gold or threatening to destroy my entire bloodline. Or maybe this is Dunwayne pushing back against the royal family. The king did swing his weight around to make sure Samuel never got into serious trouble. A small revenge? Or a small reminder?

    [The Hall would like to offer you a position as an assistant instructor in the Summoning Hall.] I lean forward further, fully interested. [I am sure you are aware how secular the summoner community is. Old families hold onto their knowledge and it is far too dangerous for the unlearned to attempt it with the broken records they can piece together.]

    Very true. Just ask Crowley Caine in the afterlife.

    [This also means that no one can properly police these families. The court does not understand enough about elementals to levy proper laws and restrictions against them. Hence, leading to circumstances like those of the Grimoires, otherwise known as the Masons.]

    Heh. So, the Hall wants me to, what, teach basic summoning safety? Play name that elemental with a bunch of city guards and soldiers? Most importantly, why me? Not that I¡¯m not qualified but you have an entire Hall of experienced summoners.

    Miss Talia slowly blinks. [You are rather astute. The Hall wants you to teach both acolytes and those of law enforcement about basic summoning, the more common elementals, and the danger of both. As for why you are being offered the position, it has been offered to every adequate summoner for the past five years. All have turned it down.]

    Loyalty to family, I muse. Certainly, my father would rather stab himself than give away our family¡¯s summoning records, especially to a random commoner off the streets, as the Hall has been known to accept.

    [Indeed. Anyone with the needed expertise is compromised by their loyalties. By the time new acolytes have reached the same level of knowledge, they have formed their own loyalties. The Hall has its own politics, enforced by old traditions.]

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    I¡¯m familiar with the concept.

    [Yes. You have broken many traditions already. You are from an old summoning family, which gives you both the skill and the pedigree to direct future summoners, but you are not strongly attached to your family. More so, you are already tied to the Hall through your wife. You are the best prospective candidate in a long time.]

    Doesn¡¯t that make me feel warm inside. The idea of teaching a group of baby summoners doesn¡¯t sound bad. In fact, there are a few elementals I¡¯m interested in that respond better to groups. Perhaps I can start my own club like Kierra has, though I don¡¯t need fanatics trailing me.

    What commitments would be expected of me and what would I be getting?

    [The Hall will pay you 200 gold crowns per semester.]

    My eye twitches. 200 gold for nearly a year of labor? A common laborer would be on their knees kissing her feet for such a blessing but I am a noble. That amount of money is nothing. I paid a hundred more than that to tempt a woman into my bed for a night.

    [The Hall will cover resources for your own research and summons up to the amount of 1000 gold.]

    Now we¡¯re getting somewhere. Thank the saints they have enough respect to not think I¡¯d be satisfied with such a pittance as 200 gold crowns.

    [You would also be entitled to personal living arrangements in a dorm with other assistant instructors. You are not inclined to reside in it, the space is yours to do with as you wish as long as you heed the dorm¡¯s rules of conduct. The Hall is also prepared to offer you an assistant of your own from our pool of aides. They are quite competent. Marie was trained by the Hall and she is quite invaluable to me.]

    Oh, they¡¯ve put heavy bait on their fishing lines.

    [Finally, the Hall will offer you a place at the faculty meetings as an advisor to speak on any issues involving summoning and elementals.]

    It takes me a minute to understand the value of her words. Faculty meetings. A gathering of all the Hall¡¯s instructors, a room full of some of the most powerful and influential people in the kingdom. And they¡¯re offering me a standing invitation.

    Where¡¯s the downside? This is getting a touch ridiculous. What are they going to offer me next, my own flying island? Personal lessons from Dunwayne? There has to be a catch.

    [They are asking for a minimum commitment of five years. It is the agreed upon time it would take to train another to take your place if you should decide to leave.]

    I lean back as I consider the offer. I don¡¯t plan on leaving the Hall anytime in the near future but that doesn¡¯t mean I wouldn¡¯t. Choosing to stay in one place for its benefits is very different from being shackled to a place for benefits. They won¡¯t nail my feet to the floor but if I break that agreement, it would be a terrible stain on my reputation.

    They are asking for five years to train a replacement. Will they be training this replacement or are they expecting me too? Will they be chosen by me or the Hall? If I were them, I would be choosing. Their biggest problem with summoners is loyalty. They want someone who will represent the Hall¡¯s interest so they would be wary of anyone too close to me.

    Assuming all of this is true and I¡¯m in charge of teaching the next Grand Summoner, what standards are they expecting me to train this person to? There¡¯s? Mine? If it¡¯s mine, do they want me to impart all of my knowledge onto a stranger? Is this an unspoken agreement that I am selling the summoning records gathered and protected by the Tome family for generations? I may not be as staunch about tradition as others but the thought of any random schmuck profiting off my family¡¯s blood, sweat, and devotion annoys me.

    [You do not have to decide right now,] Miss Talia says. [The Hall is willing to give you time to deliberate. I will be happy to answer any more specific questions at your leisure. Perhaps over dinner.]

    Ha! Is this why you volunteered to do my interview? Clever.

    [I was chosen as they hoped our familiarity would put you at ease. My own motives were not taken into account but I would have volunteered if given the opportunity.] Her lips twitch. Hours of studying the minute changes of her expression and my enhanced vision allow me to see the faint bow of her lips before they return to their neutral flat line. [We have not made significant progress on our friendship.]

    It¡¯s not really something meant to be measured¡­I shake my head, smiling. Every conversation with her is such a novelty. On the surface, her words are incredibly blunt, perhaps grating to some. What¡¯s behind them, and the woman in general, is so incredibly pure. There is no filter, no mask to rip away to find the truth.

    Is it a quirk of her personality? A habit developed from years of hearing people¡¯s true thoughts rather than parsing through lies like the rest of us? Maybe she¡¯s been trained to be this way, as there are few things more dangerous in the king¡¯s court than a dishonest interrogator. Either way, she is a clear pond, the calm surface infinitely soothing, its shallow depths a comfort opposed to the unfathomable terrors in deeper waters.

    I¡¯d be delighted to have you over. We can make a day of it. I¡¯m interested to know what you do for fun. The most I¡¯ve seen of her life is her office, bare and functional, clear of anything but the stacks of paperwork that are always present when I visit. I have an engagement or two after the qualifiers but my time is flexible afterwards.

    Another twitch of her lips, this time a ghost of a smile. [That is good. I look forward to it.] She pauses. [Then, I will now begin your interview on behalf of the crown.]

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-10

    Who is asking you to interview me?

    [I am not supposed to give you this information and I am not strong enough to withhold my thoughts from those who will be asking me questions once we are finished.]

    Someone quite important then. My stomach turns at the thought that the king himself is one of the people who can compel her to keep her silence. It¡¯s almost funny. After concluding the mess with Samuel, I thought myself cured of my royal fears. It seems fate is set to test my convictions.

    [Then, the first question. Are you loyal to the crown?]

    I am very nervous that someone is asking you to ask me this.

    [This is not an interrogation, Lou. There is no need to be nervous.]

    I believe that you think that. However, people are tricky beasts and that is a very suspicious question.

    [You are quite paranoid.]

    Am I? I think I have a healthy amount of suspicion. Isn¡¯t this normal?

    [No. I have seen agents of the court less suspicious of people¡¯s motives than you. Lou, do you trust me?]

    Yes. Specifically, I know and understand your motives. Also, I happen to think you happen to be good. At the very least, I can¡¯t imagine you screwing someone over to get ahead, least of all your allies.

    [Then trust me please and answer the questions. Otherwise, a simple situation will become difficult for the both of us.]

    Hmph. Alright, but only for you, Miss Talia.

    Her lips twitch in that ghost of a smile of hers. [Once again, are you loyal to the crown? The truth will not harm you, no matter what it is, but a lie might.]

    The truth then. I imagine I am as loyal to the crown as the next citizen. I respect the king and the royal family¡¯s position, follow their decrees, and have no desire to undermine their rule. In fact, I¡¯d like to have as little to do with them as possible.

    [Thank you, Lou. Do you respect the law?]

    What kind of¡ªhah, forget it. I¡¯ll just answer the question. Sure, I respect the law. As much as the next citizen. Which of course means that I obey them until they become inconvenient.

    [What is your relationship with the Grimoire family?]

    I reflexively scowl. Relationship. I don¡¯t have a relationship with the Masons. I used to despise them and fervently wish for their entire bloodline to suddenly be struck with baldness and infertility. Our families have been feuding for generations.

    That being said, I have recently managed to mend fences to some degree with the newest head of the family, Gordon Grimoire Jr. We¡­bonded over our elementals, heh.

    [That is the truth, but not the whole truth.]

    Do you need to know more?

    [Not answering is also an answer. I assume we are moving on. What are the whereabouts of your mother?]

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Confusion and shock bring my thoughts to a halt. I thought I knew where these questions were leading but my mother is unexpected. Extremely unexpected. I can¡¯t even imagine how she relates to anything. She¡¯s been gone for years. Most of my life. What kind of question is this?

    [Do you know the circumstances of her disappearance?]

    I can¡¯t help frowning. Of course I know how she disappeared, she¡¯s my mother. A summoning gone wrong. Whatever she called dragged her off. My father won¡¯t tell me what, perhaps protecting me from going off on some vendetta. I can only guess she said something it didn¡¯t like. Or it really liked. Maybe I get my charm from her. Can¡¯t imagine it coming from my father. Amazes me he managed to convince a woman to sleep with him.

    Jokes aside, what bastard is asking about my mother?

    [Do not ask me to tell you, Lou.]

    Because they¡¯re going to be delving through your thoughts when we¡¯re finished to make sure you were a good girl and didn¡¯t divulge anything you weren¡¯t supposed to. Hah! People associate the Grimoires with abuse of the mental affinity but the crown has been doing it for just as long. Nothing blatant, of course, but they don¡¯t need to be. It¡¯s all about control, isn¡¯t it?

    She frowns. [Lou¡­]

    It¡¯s fine, Miss Talia. I know. I don¡¯t blame you for this. It¡¯s just frustrating to know someone is peering at me from the shadows and using you to do it. Come on. Let¡¯s finish this.

    [Thank you. What is your opinion on the mental affinity?]

    Hell of a time to ask me that question. I let out a long sigh. Despite my current distaste with this affair, the mental affinity is a tool like any other. It¡¯s not inherently bad or evil. It is all in how it¡¯s used and that is decided by each individual.

    [Would you consider it dangerous? More so than other affinities.]

    Without a doubt. The body is infinitely easier to heal than the mind. Worse, if someone is skilled, you¡¯d never know you¡¯d been attacked. To make it more terrifying, if the wrong person is influenced, it can have a cascading effect. Say, a high noble. Or a member of the royal family. Saints, just the thought is terrifying.

    [Do you think the mental affinity needs to be regulated?]

    I shuffle in my seat at the uncomfortable question. That¡¯s dangerous ground you¡¯re skirting. Summoning was once ¡®regulated¡¯ as you so delicately put it. Didn¡¯t work out well for my family. It¡¯s why barely anyone knows about the art now.

    [Do you feel the same about mental casters?]

    It¡¯s the same thing, isn¡¯t it? A potentially dangerous ability in the wrong hands. Does that mean it should be made forbidden, its users ostracized? No. You can¡¯t ban everything that¡¯s dangerous. How about no more swords, in case someone falls on one? No more forks either. Someone¡¯s fingers could slip and they may stab themselves in the throat.

    [Then, if you don¡¯t think it should be banned, what is the solution?]

    Simple. Lay down the rules, fair ones or at least as fair as you can manage. If someone breaks them, take them down. Everything will be fine as long as you¡¯re better than the bad guy.

    [And what if that doesn¡¯t stop bad guys, as you put it? You may stop one but can you stop the next and the one that follows? The more lenient the law, the more that will be inspired to break it.]

    I sneer. Frankly, in that case, you¡¯re not doing a good enough job. No one but the bravest and most desperate should even think about breaking the law. They should be too afraid to dare try. Power conquers all. The one with the most power dictates how it¡¯s used. Simple as that.

    Miss Talia¡¯s communications pause. I don¡¯t dare cast a mental spell to confirm, not with two other powerful casters in the room who might notice, but I bet she¡¯s talking to someone else. Most likely the person telling to ask all of these annoying questions. Cheh. I have a good idea who it is, or at least who they belong to, which is the only reason I¡¯m not having Bell search out their identity.

    After a few minutes, Miss Talia straightens up. Her features harden. Her neutral expression is the same but it¡¯s stiff, as if she¡¯s forcing herself not to react. Silly woman, that only makes it obvious that you¡¯re uncomfortable with something.

    [Lady Tome, an offer has been extended for you to join the interrogators. Should you choose to accept, you will immediately be given the title of countess and after faithfully completing your duties for a period of ten years, be granted a parcel of land under your authority. Additionally, you will receive a salary of 500 gold crowns during your two-year training period to be raised to 1200 gold crowns once you have become a full-fledged interrogator. If you accept, you will have three days to put your affairs in order before departing to Summer Spire.]

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-11

    I gape at her. To be fair, mentioning the Grimoires and the mental affinity was enough to guess this had something to do with the dreaded enforcers of the crown. However, I was expecting another advisory role. Perhaps a temporary position in mopping up any Grimoires unhappy with their sudden decline in position. Not a full-fledged membership into the shadowy order.

    Why is this happening?

    [You have the means to successfully carry out an interrogation and the proper mindset.]

    Really? I have the proper mindset?

    [Your answers were¡­within acceptable parameters.]

    I am suddenly very concerned for this kingdom. Saints protect us all.

    [Unlike the offer from the Hall, your answer is required with some expediency.]

    As in¡­

    [Now, preferably.]

    Excuse me? They want me to decide whether or not I want to drastically change the direction of my life in a day? Well, sure! No. Absolutely not. How about that for an answer.

    Miss Talia frowns. [In the event you refused, I was instructed to deliver a piece of news. In the coming weeks, the crown will be announcing a decree. It will ban the contracting of select elementals unless given a special writ by the crown. Anyone known to contract said elementals will be detained until they dismiss their contract.]

    ¡­

    I can¡¯t believe what I¡¯m hearing. Detained until their contract is dismissed? What nonsense is this? Summoners can¡¯t ¡®dismiss¡¯ an elemental. Our mana is bound together! In a sense, we are one in the same. The only way to break that bound is through death.

    [¡­the crown is aware.]

    Oh, so they¡¯re not idiots, they¡¯re just cruel bastards. What, do they expect us to order our elementals to let themselves be slaughtered?

    [¡­yes.]

    Too bad! Do you know how rare it is for a summoner to have that level of control over their elemental!? Incredibly! Almost every sentient elemental makes sure they cannot be ordered to harm themselves and is given the right to self-defense and they will defend themselves. What then?

    [An elemental is considered an extension of the summoner. They are responsible for the creature¡¯s actions. Should an elemental attack an official of the crown in the process of carrying out their duties, then the summoner will have to bear the consequences.]

    Which is imprisonment and death. Let me guess. Succubi are going to be one of these banned elementals.

    [¡­yes.]

    Ha. Hahaha.

    These bastards.

    I get it. I really do. The Grimoires have been a pain in everyone¡¯s asses for a long time. Gordon Sr. muscled his way into the position of one of the king¡¯s advisors and strutted around the kingdom as if he was untouchable. With him gone and the family weakened, the king wants to make sure they don¡¯t make a comeback. Senior¡¯s bloody end gives him the perfect excuse, allowing him to paint them all in an equally terrible light. If the fallout was contained to them, I might accept it, despite the hit to my own influence as Junior is practically my minion.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    However, this won¡¯t end with them. It hurts all summoners. Not just those with whatever other elementals they plan on restricting from this plane, but every summoner. It paints us as villains, besmirches the entire art. Damn it all, it¡¯s happening again!

    And to top it all off, the bastards are coming after me personally. Miss Talia was told to mention this to scare me into joining them. They are threatening me.

    It takes a conscious effort to control myself and it doesn¡¯t go unnoticed. Miss Talia grimaces, the clarity of expression speaking to how uncomfortable she feels. Beside her, Aurelius frowns, no doubt wondering about my sudden hostility. Lord Westerly appears to be nodding off, head bowed and body slumped but the reaper on his shoulders becomes active, undulating around him and flickering in and out of sight.

    ¡°My answer is no,¡± I say slowly and precisely, anger making my words clipped. And you can tell whoever is behind this horseshit that I look forward to seeing the hero who plans to detain me because I¡¯m not giving up my elementals. I reject this ¡®decree¡¯ wholeheartedly and I suspect many other summoners will.

    [I¡­] Her lips twist in distaste. [I have been trained to be an interrogator since I was a girl. I have always known I would serve the crown. But, I can see that eventually, perhaps soon, that path will lead us into conflict. That is undesirable. No, it is unacceptable.]

    What do you want me to do about it? I won¡¯t retreat and there is no room for compromise.

    [The fault is not yours and my decision is my own.] She shakes her head, her expression relaxing. [We have an interview to finish. Would you like a moment to collect yourself?]

    Hmph. It takes more than that to rattle me. What next? Will they be cracking down on ¡®deviant¡¯ behavior? Or perhaps they¡¯d like to pass a decree banning ¡®outsiders¡¯ from our lovely human kingdom? Target more of my lifestyle.

    Miss Talia pauses suspiciously. Oi, don¡¯t tell me I¡¯m right!?

    [No, there are no more decrees you should be concerned about, to my knowledge. Continuing the interview. Do you have loyalties to any powers outside the kingdom?]

    Loyalties? I¡¯m married to an elf. That means I have elves for extended family. I don¡¯t know them but I¡¯d lend them aid on principle, doubly so if Kierra calls on me. Do you consider that loyalties outside the kingdom? If so, then yes.

    [Would you be at all interested in a career in the army?]

    Absolutely not. Career implies dedication and commitment to the army, the kingdom, and the king. I¡¯ve got my own plans, thank you.

    [Even if it came with several benefits? Such as a rise in rank, a larger territory, and even the role of advisor in the future?]

    I can get all of those without dedicating my life to fighting for someone else.

    [Even if the particular opportunity would afford you the writ needed to allow the ownership of your succubi?]

    I twitch with the effort to hold back a scowl. Did you have to bring up that nonsense again? I was managing to delude myself into thinking it was a bad joke. If whoever is offering this ¡®opportunity¡¯ is trying to take advantage of that ridiculous decree, then they can shove their offer up their ass.

    Bastards. Saints, just thinking about this makes me want kill someone. Talia, skip the rest of the questions and tell me this offer so I can reject it and end this farce!

    She blinks. [The crown prince has extended an offer for you to apprentice under one of his personal knights for a period of three years. You will serve him directly in a series of planned campaigns for a period of three years, after which you will be knighted into the order of the Harvest Royal Knights.]

    My legs bounce with the urge to jump off my seat. So, it¡¯s not the king. Just his firstborn son and heir. I¡¯m sure you know my answer.

    [No, I take it?]

    Correct.

    ¡°Thank you for your time, Lady Tome,¡± she says aloud, standing up. I¡¯m quick to follow her, Aurelius a little behind, his gaze moving between the two of us with interest. ¡°Tomorrow, the details pertaining to the final test will be posted on boards outside this building. Be sure to check it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to do so. Master Aurelius, Miss Talia.¡± I turn my attention to the drowsy summoner and shake my head. "If that¡¯s all?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re free to go.¡±

    I turn on my heel and stomp out of the room, practically fuming. Here I thought my acolyte years would be carefree. Instead, I find out that the crown is targeting summoners and I¡¯m in their crosshairs. How far is this going to go? How far am I willing to go to stop it? Am I going to have to commit regicide to stop them from screwing over my family¡¯s art once again? Or am I going to be forced to leave the country to avoid the hassle of being hunted?

    Sigh. This is why I hate royals.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-12

    ¡°Hey, you waited.¡±

    I turn as Alana exits the Caster Hall, the blonde wearing a cheerful, cocky smile. It dims as she takes in my own expression, turning into her usual serious frown in scant seconds. She rushes forward, grabbing my arm. "What happened?" she asks, blue eyes hard as steel as she asks for a target on which to unleash her well-meaning concern.

    It does a bit to ease my foul mood. Grabbing her hand with my own, I pull her away from the building with its constant stream of people and too many listening ears. She doesn¡¯t protest, which shows how worried she is. Embarrassingly, really. I intended to hide my state from her, only speaking on my interview after some time to process everything and there is a lot to process.

    I could spend several days picking apart the information itself in heated debates with my succubi without touching on the pit of snakes that is my emotional response. The way I felt after hearing that decree, I could have rode to Summer Spire and stormed the castle to tell the king what I think of it, which I still have half a mind to do. The unreasonable half, but at the moment, it¡¯s making convincing arguments.

    Maybe a tiny part of me is glad to have failed in fooling her, so I can bathe in her blatant care.

    When I¡¯m sure we won¡¯t be easily overheard, I release her hand and slow down. She keeps pace with me, waiting patiently for me to talk but her eyes demanding my haste. It makes me chuckle and I linger in my affection for her, letting it combat my ire. The last thing I want is for me to misplace my anger toward her.

    ¡°How did your interview go?¡± I ask with cheer that I only have to force a little.

    She gives me a look. ¡°Lou¡­¡±

    ¡°You first, Alana.¡± I want to listen to her before I get worked up again.

    She huffs. ¡°Fine. I was interviewed by three instructors. One to represent casters, one to represent knights, or foundation I suppose, and the last one to represent crafters. They asked me what I¡¯m interested in. I told them I have plans for my future. They thanked me, I thanked them, we said goodbye. Now, tell me what has you so upset.¡±

    I shake my head at her clipped tone. ¡°If you¡¯re going to insist.¡± I take a deep breath, consciously moderating my tone. ¡°My interview was a bit special.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Why am I not surprised?¡±

    I reflexively smile at her dry tone. ¡°Aw. I think you¡¯re special too.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­oh, forget it.¡±

    Heh. ¡°I had representatives from the caster and the summoners along with two more interestinggroups. The first being the interrogators.¡±

    ¡°Whoa, wait a moment.¡± Once again, she grabs my arm, bringing us to a stop. Her eyes are wide as she stares at me, trying to see behind the mask covering my resurging anger. ¡°What do they want with you? Are you in some kind of trouble?¡±

    ¡°No trouble.¡± At least, not yet. ¡°My elementals. They have the mental affinity which means I have the mental affinity. You remember Miss Talia? Ah, Umphrieltalia.¡±

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    ¡°The woman who administered our test.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. She has the mental affinity and has a connection to the interrogators. She was given the job to ask their questions, judge my answers, and offer me a position amongst the illustrious truthseekers of the crown right then and there.¡±

    The hand on my arm tightens, to the point I imagine it¡¯d be painful for anyone who hasn¡¯t trained their body. Alana tries to control her expression but she¡¯s even worse than me. Her anxiety is clear as the sun in the sky. ¡°¡­did you accept?¡±

    It¡¯s my turn to give her a look. ¡°Alana, please. Do you think I have any interest, any interest at all, in gallivanting around the kingdom hunting down the scum of our fair society? I have far, far more important things to do.¡± I scoff.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. You seem to have a second affinity for trouble.¡± Despite her words, she breathes a sigh of relief and the tension in her brow eases.

    ¡°You joke, but I might consider it.¡± I grit my teeth reflexively. ¡°They wanted my answer as soon as possible so of course, I quickly refused. It¡¯d be rude to waste their time when they have thieves and murders to track down. Hate to be a distraction on their mind while they¡¯re violating someone¡¯s thoughts in the name of justice.¡±

    ¡°Lou,¡± she says carefully, knowing I¡¯m stalling. I give her a rueful smile.

    ¡°Once I refused, Miss Talia, under orders I stress, informed me that the crown intends to announce a decree that will ban the summoning and contraction of select elementals deemed a danger to the realm, I suppose. Succubi will be amongst them. Summoners found with said elementals will be detained until their contract is severed.¡±

    ¡°¡­shit.¡±

    ¡°Watch it! Saints can¡¯t be talking like that.¡±

    She punches my shoulder but it lacks its usual force. ¡°So, it¡¯ll be against the law for them to be here?¡±

    ¡°Ah. We need to brush up on your summoning.¡± My voice becomes strained as I force myself to remain nonchalant. ¡°Forming a contract with an elemental involves binding our mana. It is not something that can be altered or reversed, by anyone. ¡®Voiding a contract¡¯ as they so eloquently can only be accomplished by the death of one of the parties involved.¡±

    She sucks in a sharp breath, eyes wide with shock. Then they narrow as she scowls. ¡°You¡¯re not going to let them die,¡± she says with finality. ¡°Geo and Bell. They¡¯re people. Summoners aren¡¯t going to sit by and watch people be slaughtered. The crown has to know that.¡±

    ¡°You give summoners too much credit,¡± I say sadly. ¡°Who wants to be detained indefinitely or, worse, be executed? The good summoners, the ones who do the art proud, won¡¯t forsake their partners, no, but they¡¯ll be the minority. Easily ignored or branded as crazy people endangering the kingdom for their own greed. A threat that needs to be dealt with.¡±

    ¡°Saints damn them.¡± She drops my arm. One hand goes to her waist where her sword usually rests as she bows her head. I don¡¯t have to see her face to know she¡¯s brooding, ruminating on the dark thoughts I¡¯ve put in her head. I give her time, staring at the sky as I fight my own dark thoughts.

    She draws my attention when her head suddenly snaps up. ¡°Wait. If they want to recruit you, you need your elementals.¡±

    I clap slowly. Maybe a hint sarcastically. ¡°Someone give that girl a gold crown. Yes, I would. They¡¯d be thrilled. Succubi are one of the best users of the mental affinity summoners have documented from their many forays into the many realms, after all. Should I work for them, they will spare Geo and Bell.¡±

    Now that I think of it, there are plenty of other interesting elementals that would be very useful for the crown or a pain if they can¡¯t be controlled. Is this stupid decree away to pressure the lot of us into service?

    ¡°That¡¯s extortion¡­¡± Her mouth gapes open in disbelief. ¡°They using innocent lives to¡­¡± She trails off, shaking her head. ¡°They can¡¯t do that. It¡¯s against the law!¡±

    I hold back a laugh. ¡°The law is about to change.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not right!¡±

    ¡°As you say but that doesn¡¯t change reality. Either I make myself useful or I make myself gone.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t right,¡± she reiterates, anger taking the place of disbelief. Her shoulders are tense and her hand flexes at her side. ¡°This is an abuse of power. The king isn¡¯t a tyrant who can do whatever he wants. There¡¯re the nobles and even the Hall! If he tries something like this¡ª¡±

    She breaks off as I pull her into a hug.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-13

    ¡°Lou?¡± she asks in obvious confusion as I rub her back. As much as the situation annoys me, angers me, and disgusts me, it doesn¡¯t surprise me. However, my righteous knight seems thoroughly confused by the concept that someone would use their power to royally screw over an entire group of people and that it can actually happen. Another reason to intervene, as it will be a very rude awakening for her not if, but when, it does.

    Poor saint. I equally admire and despise the way my best friend looks at the world. She isn¡¯t na?ve, she¡¯s had her share of misfortune too, but she is certainly optimistic. Especially about those in authority. She speaks often about growing up with under a knight and from the way she turned out, one who takes that title quite seriously. She takes it seriously as well. Sometimes, I think it blinds her to the evils men can do.

    ¡°Alana, summoners make up a very small amount of the magic community. The only voice we had were the Grimoires and that¡¯s doing more harm than good right now. Even if the high nobles could sway the king¡¯s mind, why would they? Dunwayne could fly to the capital right now and demand an audience with the king, but why would he? It¡¯s not hurting them and the succubi have been a pain for a lot of people for a long time.¡±

    I give her back one more pat before I let go. ¡°Maybe someone will save us but it hasn¡¯t happened yet. Better to assume we¡¯re royally fucked and do what we can to save ourselves.¡±

    ¡°So, that¡¯s it? You¡¯re just going to leave?¡± she snaps. Saints, are those tears in her eyes? ¡°Sacrifice yourself to save yourself? Your future? Leave m¡ªbehind the Hall?¡±

    ¡°No. What made you think that?¡±

    Her mouth is open to continue her rant but she comes up short. She blinks rapidly, but I think it¡¯s less to do with her confusion and more to keep the unshed tears from falling. ¡°Ah, but¡­¡±

    ¡°But what? They¡¯re attacking my family¡¯s art. They¡¯re threatening me. I don¡¯t enjoy being threatened. I certainly don¡¯t want to work for people holding an axe over my head.¡± Bastards didn¡¯t even try to be subtle about the coercion. Dismissingme. As if I have no choice but to accept their horseshit. We¡¯ll see about that.

    If we, the Tome family, the oldest and most distinguished summoners in the kingdom, bow before this decree, then we may as well strike summoning from history. Burn all the records and forget about it.¡± I¡¯m sure my tone conveys exactly how I feel about that.

    Alana lets out a deep breath, visibly calming. ¡°Okay. Alright, yeah. That¡¯s¡­that sounds more like you.¡± She flashes me a hesitant smile. Are you trying to make me forget about your very near breakdown? I won¡¯t. ¡°Um, I guess you have a plan?¡±

    ¡°Hm? No, not a clue.¡±

    ¡°¡­dammit, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Well, what did you expect?¡±

    ¡°Something! Where is that confidence coming from?¡±

    ¡°From the absolute certainty that I¡¯m not letting such a stupid decree and a bunch of stupid men ruin my life! But no, I don¡¯t have a solid plan. How could I? I just found out about this today.¡±

    ¡°You have to have some clue!¡± she continues, breaths coming quickly. Guess those deep breaths didn¡¯t help too much as the panic is coming back. ¡°They¡¯re going to detain you indefinitely or murder you, your elementals, or all of you! For saints¡¯ sake!¡±

    Over my dead body and that¡¯s a lot harder than anyone might think. ¡°I know this! Doesn¡¯t mean a perfect plan is going to fall from the heavens. If all else fails, I suppose I can level that capital.¡± Bell has an earth affinity. I¡¯m sure she can sink the entirety of Summer Spire if Geneva, Kierra, and I keep the defenders off her.

    Alana recoils as if I slapped her. Then she slams her fist into my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t say that! Don¡¯t even joke about that. If someone hears you¡ª¡±

    ¡°What? They¡¯ll detain me? Murder me and my family? Oh wait, they¡¯re already planning on doing that. Seems I don¡¯t have much to lose.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re serious?¡±

    ¡°At the moment? Very.¡± Give me a few days if you want responses based on logic.

    ¡°Lou, no. You¡¯re strong. Teacher is stronger. I have no idea what Geo can really do but none of that matters. The capitals has hundreds of casters and knights ready to defend it. Dozens of masters. It¡¯d take an army to make a dent in the city¡¯s forces. You¡¯d only get yourself killed.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re assuming I fight them all at once, in open combat,¡± I say, unable to keep the menace from slipping into my tone. ¡°I don¡¯t have to conquer Summer Spire. I just have to make myself a nuisance and there are an infinite number of ways to do that.¡±

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    I¡¯m sure summoners aren¡¯t the biggest threat to the crown. Saints, I¡¯d rate Marquis Guiness and his infinite gold as a greater threat. Higher nobles have standing armies and are greedy for as much power as they can get their hands on. From my talks with Miss Talia, I know the militant faction in particular headed by the James family is just short of outright rebellion, firm in their independence centered around Fort Victory, and the king dares not push them.

    So, why would he target the miniscule in comparison threat of unruly summoners? Simple. The crown thinks we¡¯re weak, easy targets. The community is divided into the different families eager to hoard the secrets of the realms they have ties to. The Grimoires have lost almost all of their political clout and our reputation amongst the people who matter is trash. They think they can subdue us, or better yet, absorb us and use our knowledge and traditions for their own benefit. Likely to wrangle some of those larger threats.

    The king thinks we have no teeth? See how he feels when I take a bite out of his kingdom. He won¡¯t target larger threats because it¡¯s too costly so I¡¯ll make it too costly to target summoners.

    Fight the royal army and the Harvest Royal Knights directly? Am I insane? Why would I do that? We¡¯ll see if he wants to keep playing the game if I throw the rules out the window. Forget honor and dignity. I value brutality and maximum collateral damage.

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    ¡°Ah, no more, no more! I know, alright?¡± I snap. ¡°I understand you¡¯re worried. I¡¯m worried too but there¡¯s nothing we can do about it right now, is there? We¡¯re not going to do anything but talk ourselves in circles. Can we move on?¡±

    She glares at me and I glare right back. At least I try but I can¡¯t stare into her eyes for too long without getting distracted. Soon enough, my stern expression melts into a sloppy smile. She rolls her eyes but follows me in relaxing, running a frustrated hand through her hair. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ve got somegood news after that shitstorm.¡±

    I start walking again and she follows. ¡°You¡¯re underestimating me, my friend. After that wonderful proposal from the interrogators, I was then offered a position working for the first prince, apprenticing to become one of his personal knights and building a career in the army.¡±

    I don¡¯t know what I expect her to do. It certainly isn¡¯t for her to laugh but she does. Uproariously.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I jostle her to get her attention but she still chuckles, batting away my hand. ¡°How is that funny?¡±

    ¡°You! A knight¡­representing the kingdom¡­¡± She can¡¯t get the words out without laughing some more. ¡°Oh saints. I can¡¯t¡­¡± She giggles. Giggles.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re cute,¡± I grumble, my own mood lightening, slowing down so she can keep up with her stumbling steps, balance compromised by her humor. ¡°I could be a good knight.¡±

    ¡°You were just blatantly talking about treason!¡±

    A good point. ¡°Trailing after a prince would be ridiculous anyway. What isn¡¯t so funny is that the offer also came with mercy for my elementals.¡±

    The reminder of my impending crisis with the crown sobers her. She clears her throat. ¡°I laughed but don¡¯t dismiss it. The army can provide opportunities.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Not afraid of me leaving you anymore?¡±

    She tries hard to maintain a neutral expression but blushes furiously. ¡°I was concerned you were making an irreversible decision without considering it. At least the army would let you stay at the Hall. They¡¯d want a more capable fighter.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Just so you know, I have no intention of accepting the prince¡¯s ¡®generous¡¯ offer either.¡±

    ¡°Then, what¡ª¡±

    ¡°We can have a nice long talk about all of this during the weekend you¡¯re going to owe me, honey,¡± I say sweetly, reminding her of our bet. ¡°With some nice wine to take the edge off. Nothing harder. You tend to forget important details on anything stronger.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t make me sound like a drunkard,¡± she snaps with a smile. ¡°And you¡¯re not going to win.¡±

    ¡°You call me confident.¡±

    She suddenly pulls me to a stop with a hand on my wrist. My mouth opens to asks her what¡¯s wrong but I pause as she rests her head on my shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid, degenerate,¡± she whispers.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°You know. When you get worked up, you get reckless. And violent.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve¡ª¡±

    Her grip tightens for a moment. ¡°You¡¯ve had two disagreements here and you solved both of those through violence.¡±

    I grimace. ¡°In my defense, I tried to be reasonable first.¡±

    ¡°We both know you enjoyed smacking them around. I don¡¯t blame you, but not this time. Okay? Please? We can think of something. I¡¯ll help you so don¡¯t¡­don¡¯t do anything reckless. Promise me.¡±

    I sigh heavily. I might have to rethink calling her a future saint. This girl is plain evil. ¡°Another promise. They¡¯re adding up.¡±

    ¡°But you won¡¯t say no, will you?¡± I can hear the smile in her voice.

    Truly despicable. Saints preserve me, there¡¯s a chance I will have to spend a lifetime dealing with her remorseless tugging on my heart. A part of me wishes she¡¯d simply turn me down if she¡¯s not interested but the uncertainty, the dance right along the edge of our friendship, is such sweet torture. ¡°Fine. I promise, I won¡¯t do anything reckless.¡± It just so happens that we have different definitions of reckless, hah.

    Another squeeze and she lets me go, stepping back. Her smile is much less forced. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, Lou,¡± she reassures me. I return the smile. Of course it¡¯ll be okay. I¡¯ll make sure of it.

    ¡°Yeah, it will be so put it out of your mind. We need to focus on these qualifiers. Meet you tomorrow to get the details?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Lunch again?¡±

    ¡°Once a week, you glutton. The rules don¡¯t change because our classes do. I¡¯ll head over after breakfast.¡± I¡¯m too used to waking up early to purposely sleep in just because I have the opportunity. Alana¡¯s worse, the crazy woman insisting on training before even the sun wakes up.

    ¡°Stingy. If you want the king to revoke that decree, you should just have Geo cook for him.¡± She winces, shutting her eyes as she faintly flushes in embarrassment. ¡°Saints, I¡¯m sorry. That was insensitive.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. My only problem is that you¡¯re wrong. If he tastes her cooking, he won¡¯t wait for any decree before snatching her up.¡±

    ¡°Ah, you might be right.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-14

    Alana sees me most of the way home, turning around at the end of the street but not before giving me one last concerned glance. We lapsed into silence during the walk but she didn¡¯t have to talk for me to know she was still worried about our conversation. I don¡¯t know what bothers her more; the decree, the fact that the king made the decree, or what I¡¯m going to do about it. Wondering if I will follow through on my vague threats. Wondering if I will leave to escape the crown¡¯s sanctions?

    Besides a few basic platitudes, I don¡¯t have answers for her. I need time to think, to consider every option before I really do something reckless. This is beyond me, as enraged as I am. I need to consider my family. I need to consider Junior and the Masons/Grimoires. Saints, this affects the whole kingdom, not just summoners. Things have the potential to get explosive.

    Gajin is replacing flowers in the entryway when I walk in. He dips his head respectfully before smiling. ¡°Afternoon, milady.¡±

    ¡°Gajin, you¡¯re looking well.¡± If scruffier than usual. ¡°The flowers are beautiful, as usual.¡±

    He puffs up like I called him pretty. As they say, gold is valuable but appreciation is priceless. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve heard someone say so. At least once. Probably not from my family.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been talking to the mistress.¡± The servants have taken to calling Kierra ¡®mistress¡¯. Normally, she¡¯d be the lady of the house but seeing as she¡¯s married a lady¡­ ¡°There is a florist in the market who may be interested in my babies.¡± One of his fingers trace a brilliant white petal. ¡°I have to make sure they¡¯re seen. A flower¡¯s joy comes in captivating others.¡±

    ¡°Ah, um, good. Let me know if you need any help with that.¡± I skirt by the man amusing himself with stroking plants. His fascination with greenery has only become worse since being let loose in the garden. I¡¯m afraid he might be a tough unhinged. With his thick, unruly hair tangled with plant debris and general disheveled state, anyone who sees him might think he''s a hobo squatting on our estate. The least he can do is shave regularly.

    I can hear Kierra on the balcony but I don¡¯t rush to join her. It¡¯s been a long, stressful day. I need to relax and think, though a solution isn¡¯t likely to present itself in a night.

    Geneva enters the bedroom just behind me with a brief knock to announce herself, moving toward the bath. [I think Gajin should keep his current appearance,] her voice whispers in my mind as I hear water filling the tub. A servant that can read their master¡¯s mind is an efficient servant indeed. I tried to stay uncomfortable and cautious about it, but it¡¯s just too useful. [The druid style looks good on him. Lends him credence to those in his field. It is not as if you expect him to greet guests.]

    He can trim that scraggly beard of his. Looks like something is nestling in there. And the jacket! It¡¯s his uniform, for saints¡¯ sake. I may not be much of a noble but appearances do matter to me, somewhat.

    [May I handle it?]

    I was going to ask you to do so anyway. How are the others?

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    [Earl is taking to his studies well. Anna¡¯s attitude has become much more manageable but she is too young for further instruction. The key is to give her a proper childhood. Positive experiences to blunt the more unfortunate ones she¡¯s endured before her employment.]

    I completely agree. A child should be a child. Earl may be her brother, but I¡¯m her guardian, aren¡¯t I? Does Quest have festivals? I enjoyed them as a girl.

    [I will investigate.]

    And the last one?

    [Nomad is¡­interesting. His mind is fractured. Fragile, or I would have already divined the truth. I cannot tell if it is a result of trauma or something more interesting.]

    About that thing we discussed¡­

    [There is no chance that he is an oracle.]

    Good. I can deal with anything but that. By Cosmo, literally anything but that.

    [You are rather paranoid, my summoner, but I approve of this caution. Those with the celestial affinity are not to be trifled with or underestimated. All the strength in the realms means nothing against one who can see the strings of fate. Your bath is ready.]

    I strip off my clothes and enter the bathroom. Geneva is waiting in the water, wearing nothing but a mischievous smile. Another toward which my reservations have crumpled.

    I settle in front of her, feeling her modest chest press against my back. I close my eyes as she washes me. ¡°I had a very interesting conversation today.¡± I think back on my interview, letting her take the details from my mind.

    Her hand doesn¡¯t even pause. ¡°A bold move,¡± she purrs against my ear. ¡°I wonder what else the king has planned.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°He must know this decree will cause considerable backlash. The Grimoires are weakened but still possess many damning secrets. Fendelheim could drag the capital into chaos without us so much as lifting a finger. Is he prepared to execute many of his vassals? Or perhaps he is planning on it?¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± I never considered that he might be using us as an excuse to wipe out a bigger threat. That would mean he thinks less of us than I thought, accepting pissing off an entire community as an acceptable strategy for being rid of a few annoying nobles. It¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m in this relaxing bath. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s his plan?¡±

    ¡°To me, it feels like a show of power. Baring his teeth. Perhaps this decree isn¡¯t even real. The rumor itself is a useful tool. He can use it to negotiate far more realistic restrictions. Or spook a few summoners to his side.¡±

    Oh, that would be plain evil. I would even respect such a move. ¡°Assuming his goal isn¡¯t to simply eradicate summoning.¡±

    ¡°Assuming that, yes. More information would be better.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡± I catch her hand as it dips somewhere dangerous, setting it on my thigh before I take the rag from her hand. I won¡¯t be thinking at all if I let her do that. ¡°We need to get in touch with Junior and Fen.¡± They¡¯re in the capital so I¡¯m going to have to put them to work.

    ¡°I will have a letter drafted, using the proper precautions.¡±

    ¡°Draft another for Jac.¡± My ambitious cousin has plans to explore Green Mountain, hoping to find the ancestral home of my family. Her little pet project has become much more important. If the kingdom becomes hostile to us, the whole family may be joining her on her little adventure.

    She¡¯s currently working her way up through the Guiness Company, hoping for a place on one of their expeditions. I¡¯m sure I could negotiate a place for us on one of his boats but this is a bit too sensitive to rely on a new and, honestly, untried friendship. Best to have my own measures in place.

    Hm. Where does one get a ship?

    ¡°Outline the basics of the situation, have her write back Father¡¯s thoughts. I can already guess my uncle¡¯s.¡± He will no doubt be outraged and fight like a cornered rat. He is a Harvest noble to the bone and will have no idea how to survive social death. He may not have any elementals but this decree may as well be the executioner¡¯s axe for the current head of the Tome family.

    ¡°Very well, my summoner.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-15

    I rise from the bath. Before I reach the door, perfectly controlled flames dry me off. I snatch a robe from a hook next to the door, tying the sash sloppily as I cross the bedroom to the balcony.

    Kierra is seated, a wineglass in one hand and an unfurled letter in the other. I¡¯m used to seeing her in leathers, her preferred armor, but with the recent end of her teaching obligations for the year, she¡¯s been lazing about the house wearing scandalously little. Like now, flashing the world in nothing but her sexy unmentionables, a lacey white number that leaves nothing to the imagination.

    I stomp over to the balcony¡¯s railing, scanning the area for perverts skulking about, going as far as to switch to my magnifying ¡°film¡±. There¡¯s no logical reason to suspect someone might be peeping on us. It¡¯s just one of those things that you feel. Like expecting bad luck after winning big at the gambling tables or preparing for a monster attack when your carriage breaks down. Fate delights in unexpected misfortunes.

    Finding the yard pervert free, I turn to my wife just as she puts down her empty wineglass. Her smile is mischievous. ¡°Not even a hello? Mm. My colleagues always grumble about the waning passions of their own loves but I never thought we¡¯d be affected so soon~¡±

    I¡¯ll show you waning passion.

    Turning away from the balcony, I take quick strides over to her. She opens her arms as climb into her lap, straddling her thighs. My arms cross behind her neck as I kiss her, moaning softly against her lips as we explore each other¡¯s mouths. Once her hand migrates to my ass, I pull back.

    A clear string of drool connects our lips. Kierra doesn¡¯t hesitate to lick it up, eyes hooded with her mounting desire. My new body is as effective as advertised, heh. ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Hello,¡± she purrs. ¡°Tests didn¡¯t go well?¡±

    ¡°They went fine.¡± I jump as her hand squeezes my ass and move to get off her. Her arm quickly moves around my waist, holding me still. I give her a look that she returns with a beautiful smile, fingers tickling my side. I reflexively smile, wiggling to escape them. Should have thought to make this body tickle immune. ¡°What makes you think they went bad?¡±

    ¡°You take baths to relax.¡±

    True. A quick shift is far better in terms of getting clean. I even shift when I have the urge to ¡®relieve¡¯ myself, avoiding all the mess. Baths are a pleasure, hardly a necessity. ¡°They went fine but something stressful did occur.¡± You hear that? I actually want to talk so move that questing hand.

    She gets the message, the mischievous hand that has been slowly creeping towards my chest falling back down to my waist, though she pouts. It¡¯s almost enough to distract me but the importance of today¡¯s events gives me the strength to rein in my lust for the time being. ¡°Someone¡¯s out to get me again.¡±

    Her playful pout disappears, the news garnering her full attention and a serious frown. ¡°Oh?¡±

    I explain everything again, this time with less indignant anger and more thoughtful consideration. She listens attentively. When I finish, she hums, closing her eyes as she processes the news. ¡°The pet has interesting ideas,¡± she says after a few moments. ¡°I don¡¯t think those secrets are as damning as she thinks.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± The things that family did alone could ruin them. If word of the atrocities and depravities some of those men got up to with their succubi became common knowledge, the king would have no choice but to put them all to the sword or risk a revolt. I have no trouble believing the people associated with them have secrets just as bad.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°These damning secrets. In the end, they are words and past actions. However, if they are all painted to be crazy, power-hungry, reckless bastards inviting evil beings from other realms into the kingdom, they can throw around all of the slurs they want and it will mean nothing. If the king labels them all as threats to the kingdom, their words will be labeled mad ravings and desperate slander. Condemnation only means something when coming from a reputable source.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re underestimating the power of malicious rumors.¡± Especially ones that are true. ¡°But I see your point. It definitely won¡¯t have the same impact as it would have when, say, Senior was the king¡¯s advisor. However, there¡¯d still be considerable fallout.¡±

    ¡°The fallout will not be that considerable. With the very public end to Gordon Senior, the family already has a bad reputation in the capital, even amongst your commoners. The king is going to stand up, with all of his supporters, and tell them that the same family that staged an armed rebellion against the crown is summoning creatures that can steal a man¡¯s will without him being so much the wiser. That they have used these creatures to subvert men and corrupt the innocent. Hide your wives and daughters or fat, ugly men will make them their willing whores. Warn your sons or they¡¯ll be dumb workhorses, slaves only able to think thoughts permitted by their masters.¡±

    I wince.

    ¡°Who¡¯s going to defend them? In that context, Junior can stand up and declare that the king feasts on newborns every full moon and the majority won¡¯t care a bit. It will be the ravings of a degenerate, slanderous rebel against the man trying to protect them from demons out to steal their minds.¡±

    My wife chuckles. ¡°We have inadvertently provided the king with the perfect opportunity to eliminate a power he does not appreciate. I can practically smell the blood. Mark my words, dedia, the king wants their heads.¡±

    ¡°What does that make my family? Collateral damage?¡± The thought pisses me off something fierce, igniting the anger I thought suppressed. Her smile stretches wider. Damn battle maniac. ¡°I suppose this is just what you were waiting for.¡±

    ¡°I have learned to enjoy peace but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ve forgotten the thrill of war. Two forces slamming together in desperate a struggle. Bodies and convictions clashing. The smell of freshly spilled blood mixed with the foul stench of men losing their courage. The furious shouting of berserkers lost to the haze of war who can no longer distinguish between friend or foe. The whimpers of the broken, hiding beneath corpses and hoping the dead with shelter them from real warriors.¡±

    The hand that had been behaving itself moves again, pushing under my robe as it trails my thigh. I suck in a sharp breath as she immediately goes for my ¡®head¡¯, teasing it with a finger. However, my attention is on her face. Her lips are parted, breaths coming quickly, her face flushed green. I¡¯ve always known what she is, but we¡¯re talking about my kingdom. My family. I may not be the most loyal subject of the crown but she is speaking of the flames of war engulfing this continent and saints strike me blind if I can¡¯t see that she¡¯s excited. By the abyss, I can feel it.

    ¡°And then the end comes. When the hand is covered in so much blood, it can¡¯t grip a weapon properly. The victors stand atop a mountain of shredded meat and twisted metal. The survivors haunted but the few¡­the few bask in the glory, more alive than ever before. Hailed by the cries of the carrion feeders who sing their adulations and thanks for the plentiful feast.¡± Her hand moves faster, tracing my slit. I bite my lower lip to smother my moans, unwilling to break the strange trance she¡¯s in.

    ¡°The wounds hurt for a night but in the morning, they¡¯re stronger. Faster. That much harder to cut. That much harder to kill.¡± She lets out a breath mixed with a growl that sends shivers down my spine.

    It snaps her out of whatever state she¡¯s in. Kierra blinks and then smiles at me. Deviant doesn¡¯t move her hand. ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive me, hm? I know you don¡¯t share my¡­enthusiasm for combat.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Overwhelming idiots who step out of line? That¡¯s a delight. What¡¯s she¡¯s talking about? That¡¯s a nightmare. ¡°And nothing¡¯s been decided yet.¡±

    I need to reject the interrogators again, formally. Probably to the face of whoever is behind that disgusting offer. Then I have to investigate. Find out the crown¡¯s motives. Evaluate my options and the consequences of them. I don''t know what that information can change and I have to admit, I¡¯m leery about putting pressure on a monarch. There¡¯s a thousand ways that can go wrong. And a handful it can go right. Time will tell.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-16

    ¡°Never mind that for now.¡± I squirm away from her hand, silently cluing her in that I still want to talk. She grins and cups my sex, but stops the teasing, thank the saints. ¡°Who¡¯s the letter from?¡±

    She glances to the piece of paper on the ground. ¡°My mother.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± One of the many plans I have for the free months before officially becoming an acolyte involves a visit to my elven in-laws. At least, we¡¯ve been toying with the idea. It has its own complications, least of which that people will be very interested in the journey. I can already imagine several people we might ¡®coincidentally¡¯ meet on the road to the Enchanted Forest. ¡°What did she say?¡±

    We are always welcome, of course. As for my intention to bring a group of humans for a, how did the marquis put it? A cultural exchange. She is skeptical but unopposed.¡±

    One of the reasons Marquis Guiness generously sponsored my attendance at the Hall was Kierra teasing him with the possibility of escorting a group through the Enchanted Forest and into elven lands. No promises were made and I expected her to keep the bait dangling on the line for a while, squeezing out as many benefits as possible. To my surprise, she seems rather eager with the idea.

    ¡°¡­that¡¯s surprising.¡± She was pretty vocal about her dislike of humans when I appeared.

    ¡°While I take after my father in appearance, I very much take after my mother in temperament,¡± Kierra muses. ¡°She can see the same things I see.¡±

    ¡°Kii, are you trying to start trouble?¡± Here I am, considering igniting civil war by going against the king. The last thing I need to be worried about is violence erupting with the elves.

    ¡°Dedia, you wound me. I simply wish for us to enjoy a vacation in my beautiful home. With your growth¡­¡± Her hand strokes me again. ¡°We can enjoy ourselves fully without fear of consequence.¡±

    ¡°Suppose we should start making solid plans.¡± Might be a good idea to disappear from the Hall for a while, just in case someone tries to arrest me preemptively after I refuse those ¡®generous¡¯ offers.

    I wonder if Alana would like to join? Ugh, how would mother-in-law react to me introducing a possible wife? Not blink an eye? Challenge her to see if she¡¯s in the same league as Kierra? Kierra intervened for me but will she do the same for Alana? Mm. On second thought, maybe she should stay here. Ah, but can I refuse her is she asks to come? Attempts have proved futile so far.

    ¡°Organizing the trip will take a few weeks at the very least. Enough time for your project?¡±

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    ¡°Should be. Once the qualifiers are finished and I do that thing for Howie, things can be put into motion. Max has already gotten the ingredients and the basement will serve as an acceptable space. I¡ª¡±

    I pause, head cocking to the side. With my improved hearing, there is a lot of stimuli in my environment. Too much for the average person. Geneva¡¯s adjustments to my brain help me process the flood of information from my enhanced senses. Mainly, I can ¡®ignore¡¯ most of the things I hear when I want, putting it out of my mind. What catches my attention are sounds that stand out. That don¡¯t belong.

    Such as whistling wind when there was no breeze moments ago. ¡°Are you expecting company?¡± I ask, frost entering my voice.

    Her eyes bounce over my face, trying to read my expression. Her wonderings clear a moment later as she presumably hears what I hear. ¡°No,¡± she asks with a grin.

    ¡°Are you sure? Maybe another puppy followed you home.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Who would be so bold? And it is bird, not a dog.¡±

    I scoff. For a moment, I consider climbing off her lap but quickly discard the idea. He¡¯s coming to my home, uninvited, likely for no good reason. Let him get an eyeful. Remind him there¡¯s nothing for him here. ¡°Come on up!¡± I shout to the empty air. ¡°No use pretending you need doors.¡±

    A moment later, the wind becomes more prevalent as a certain baldie slowly drifts down from the sky. He stops just before his bare toes touch the balcony¡¯s railing, appearing at first glance to be balancing on the thin pole.

    I grin as he takes in my sloppy state of dress, maybe a touch offended he doesn¡¯t react. His eyes briefly take in Kierra¡¯s hand that is obviously under my robe but to my surprise, he only lingers on that detail, and Kierra as a whole, for a moment before bowing toward us. ¡°Ladies. Please, forgive me for visiting without so much as a word.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve only just parted. Miss me that much?¡± I ask dryly, my suspicion clear in my tone. ¡°What brings you by?¡±

    ¡°An invitation.¡± With a twitch of his fingers, two small pieces of paper fall from his robe. They twist and flip through the air playfully as they make their way towards us. I snap them both from the air, briefly scanning the elegant cursive. ¡°You¡¯re inviting us to dinner.¡±

    ¡°This is an important time for you, Lady Tome. What a new acolyte needs most is to meet instructors, those who can help them bring out their true potential.¡± He smiles his fake smile¡­or maybe not so fake? I¡¯m not sure. This is strange. I don¡¯t trust him, never will, but he seems¡­different. The way he looks at me is different.

    Whatever Dunwayne said to him must have really spooked him, an idea I¡¯m willing to believe. Or perhaps this is a change in strategy. One can only bang their head against a wall for so long before realizing it¡¯s not going to break.

    ¡°I do hope you will take me up on my offer. As I said, you are a talented caster with a bright future. I don¡¯t plan to take up any more of your night. Lady Tome, Miss Kierra.¡±

    With no extra fanfare, he departs from our balcony, a strong gust of wind launching him higher before he blasts off. I watch with a narrow glare as his figure grows smaller and smaller.

    ¡°What in the abyss was that?¡± I ask once he¡¯s disappeared. I¡¯m thoroughly baffled.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Her words are laced with unmistakable amusement. ¡°Things are becoming so very interesting.¡±

    ¡°Why do you sound so happy about that?¡±

    I yelp as she suddenly stands but the sound is swallowed by her lips. Her kiss is quick and fierce, ending in a sharp nip that makes me squirm in her arms. ¡°You still seem a little stressed, Lou. Let me help with that.¡±

    ¡°So considerate~¡± I say, chuckling as she carries me into our bedroom.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-17

    Earl barely remembered the early years of his childhood. He could recall vague memories of his parents; his father¡¯s broad back as he left early every morning, his mother¡¯s kind but tired smile as she looked at him between making breakfast.

    They lived in a small home in a big city, the capital. Too small a home for three, and eventually four, people. He remembered walking to the market, his small hand tightly held by his mother, and wondering why they had to squeeze their lives into one room when there were so many large buildings around. Where other boys his age boasted of one day slaying dragons, living in a big house was his first dream. His mother had laughed and praised him for being practical.

    The memories after the birth of his sister, Anna, were much clearer, starting from the first time he held her tiny hand. He¡¯d marveled at the soft creature blowing spit bubbles in his mother¡¯s arms, astounded to learn that all people, even heroes like Dunn the Dragon Slayer, started off as the same helpless babes. His mother told him that babies represented the endless potential of the future, so it was the duty of the older generation to protect them. His duty was to protect his sister, so she could have the chance to grow into the next Harvest Hero, if that¡¯s what she was meant to be.

    It meant a lot of work. Often, he would watch his sister while his mother handled chores for the house or worked for a little extra money for a couple of days during the week. He never minded. One day, he would be a man and a man had to look after an entire family. One little sister was good training, like apprentices did smaller jobs to learn the ropes of a craft before they could be paid for their service.

    Thinking of his responsibilities as training injected levity and fun into a stark life. He gloated to himself that he was becoming more skilled while his ¡®friends¡¯, children who lived nearby and played on his street, wasted their time training a mockery of swordsmanship with long sticks.

    They couldn¡¯t change the ¡®pee rags¡¯ of a baby without making her cry. They cried when they scraped their knees and tore their clothes while Earl had already learned how to sew. They pestered their parents endlessly for treats in the market while Earl learned his mother¡¯s recipes. Women¡¯s work, they said to deride his efforts when his bragging occasionally escaped his thoughts, but he saw it as more training to take care of his future family. They¡¯d have to eat. The most the boys laughing at him could do was put hard loaves of cheap bread on the table but he could make hearty meals that would keep them hale and healthy.

    His father recognized his efforts and brought his son to work, cleaning the large houses he admired. He learned about many tools as he polished silver, organized cluttered closets, and straightened out gardens. His knowledge increased further as his father extended his service to businesses, Earl picking up precious knowledge from the artisans and crafters.

    His father even paid him for the work, a single copper. Earl responsibly saved most of the coins, as a proper savings could be the difference between life and death for families with their fleeting incomes, but when he did splurge, he bought toys for Anna, her excitable personality meaning she broke many of them.

    His ¡®training¡¯ continued after his parents death; his frail mother to a sickness, his chronically exhausted father to the hand of an irate noble for reasons Earl didn¡¯t understand. It turned his struggle to survive on the streets of Summer Spire with a toddler too young to understand their circumstances a game, framing a strange hell into something familiar.

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    He did his best to find warm, dry places for them to sleep, as a man had to put a roof over his family¡¯s head. Stealing food from inattentive vendors was just like shopping with his mother, except without his mother and her coin purse. Running errands for the cutthroats in the capital¡¯s slums was work, despite the many dubious circumstances and consequences, so he did his best to be professional.

    His dedication paid off. His father always told him that that for people like them, with no talent or background, dedication was the only way to change their lives for the better. And he was right. Earl was noticed by a moderately successful group of roadmen, successful enough for him to be envied by the other boys in the slums. Most boys his age would serve as cannon fodder, having little skill, but he was put in safer ambush sites and given preferential treatment by the bosses. Simply because he made himself useful.

    Bandit tore their clothes often and could hardly afford the expense of new clothes every week. Earl had the best hands with a needle. Bandits also wanted to eat good food and he learned to make decent meals from the barest scraps he could get his hands on. The men appreciated him and looked out for him, Anna as well by association.

    He did his best to do his job well. Even the parts he didn¡¯t like. Killing was¡­horrid. A man needed to be able and willing to defend his family so he did what he had to do. They didn¡¯t ask him to fight often but he followed through when they did, earning their trust and more benefits.

    Then, his dedication bestowed on him the greatest blessing of them all. One day, he caught the attention of his current employer, Lady Lourianne Tome.

    She brought him to a big house, like the ones he always admired. He still had to work hard but he earned more money than he¡¯d ever seen, not that he had much of a use for it. All of the servants were provided for more than satisfactorily. Even better, he was important. He wasn¡¯t the invisible boy quietly sweeping the halls. He was the estate¡¯s steward. People listened when he spoke, shopkeepers greeted him respectfully when he introduced himself. Not even his father had managed to increase his status.

    He and Anna had their own room with more space than they could ever need. They ate good food, fresh food, several times a day. It was almost enough to make him forget the many nights he went hungry, having to choose between feeding himself or feeding his sister.

    Best of all, they had a family again. A very strange family, but a warm one that looked after them well. No matter how hard he tried, Earl could never provide a safe place with people he could trust. That Anna could trust. He was glad someone had before it was too late.

    Earl wasn¡¯t blind. While she could be a sweet little girl, he saw the way his sister¡¯s mind deteriorated in the face of their harsh life. He worried for her but it was all he could do to keep them alive.

    Anna had changed dramatically since Lady Tome took them in. Under the guidance of Geneva, though he was not to call her that outside the house. The strange woman with skin the color of ash and a wiry tail tipped with the shape of a leaf had frightened him at first. However, he¡¯d grown to respect and trust her unconditionally.

    She eased his sister¡¯s fears, quelling the constant rage and rampant violence Anna seemed unable to control. Once again, she was smiling with carefree abandon she hadn¡¯t possessed since their parents passed, given the freedom to play like any other child. Earl¡¯s gratitude for that alone would be enough for him to happily devote himself to his lady for the rest of his life but she deigned to give him more.

    Geneva was no mere servant. In truth, Earl didn¡¯t know what she was. He knew she possessed vast knowledge of every subject he could imagine. Under direction from Lady Tome, she shared that knowledge with him. Everything he needed to be the finest steward in the kingdom¡­and much more.

    So much more.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-18

    [Time to wake up, mperkreig.]

    As it had for nearly every night since he was employed by Lady Tome, a voice penetrated his pleasant dreams, dragging him to consciousness. Earl raised his head from his pillow, another luxury he wouldn¡¯t have dreamed of mere months before, to find his mentor standing in the doorway of his room. Pink irises practically glowed in the gloom, her white teeth gleaming in a smile a touch too wide.

    Carefully, he lifted his arm off a sleeping Anna and slipped out of bed. He pulled his uniform from their shared dresser and quickly began to dress.

    [Do you know what mperkreig means?] her voice whispered into his mind. She never told him the name of the strange language she sometimes used and urged him to learn. Simply that it was not native to their realm, making it perfect for conveying secret messages should the need arise.

    ¡°I don¡¯t, teacher,¡± he whispered.

    [It means ¡®man of clay¡¯. Clay is very interesting. At first glance, it is no different from any other kind of earth people commonly trod on, but in the hands of a master, it becomes a priceless work of art.]

    Doing up the last button of his jacket, he moved toward the doorway and presented himself. Before, Geneva¡¯s scrutiny would have made him nervous, fearing the tiniest mistake would leave him ousted.

    Geneva never reprimanded him. If he made a mistake, she told him why it was wrong, corrected him, and told him to do better. Earl always took her words to heart. He¡¯d yet to make the same mistake twice.

    [A poor water affinity. No talent for growing your mana, no talent for casting. An average physique. Average intelligence. You have a great will but is that due to strength or trauma? Perhaps the one good quality you can take pride in is abnormally good fortune.]

    Finding his appearance acceptable, she turned and walked away. Earl followed behind her with measured steps. [Thousands of orphans die in this kingdom every year. Not only do you and your sister survive, but you meet the pinnacle existence perhaps in all of creation.]

    Her chuckles make his lips twitch the urge to share her humor despite his lack of understanding. [You, Earl, are the embodiment of clay. Common, unremarkable earth that you are, you have managed to catch my summoner¡¯s eyes while being trod on. So, I will shape you into a work of art that all on this plane will envy.]

    ¡°Yes, teacher.¡±

    [Are you grateful, Earl?]

    ¡°I am very grateful.¡±

    [Yes, you understand your place now. Will you feel the same way when you are strong?] Her voice turned peculiar, the words she spoke slightly echoing throughout his mind. They were all he could focus on. He could feel them in a way he¡¯d struggle to describe. [When your knowledge eclipses this realm¡¯s greatest scholars and you can stand against this world¡¯s strongest fighter, will you remember when you were no better than a rat?]

    ¡°I will always remember my place,¡± he answered without emotion. The insult rolled off his shoulders. Her words were the truth. To the successful citizens of the capital, the unfortunates stalking their great city were the same as pests. People were not equal in the Harvest Kingdom and he¡¯d been one of the lowest of the low.

    [Everything you are, you owe to Lourianne Tome.] Her voice grew stronger. [Everything you will become, you owe to Lourianne Tome. For her, you will strive to become the best version of yourself you can.]

    ¡°I will do my best for my lady,¡± he replied.

    [Everything you have, you owe to Lourianne Tome. Everything you achieve, you owe to Lourianne Tome. She is your master, your superior in every way. You live on her mercy. You owe her your life. Will you ever forget?]

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    ¡°I will remember my place.¡±

    As they moved to the living room, Earl could faintly hear twin voices raised in ecstasy, accompanied by powerful thumps and crashes. At first, hearing the going-ons of his lady¡¯s bedroom embarrassed him. It felt as if he were eavesdropping, betraying her trust. The stirrings between his legs hadn¡¯t helped his shame.

    Geneva corrected him, blatantly telling him that shame had no place in his lady¡¯s home. He was the only one who felt embarrassed. His lady was rather proud after particularly vocal nights, strutting through the house with a smug smile while her wife rested. He no longer worried she would be offended but he still had to contend with his own emerging lusts, something that amused Geneva to no end.

    He learned quickly, as voices were the least he need be concerned about. More than once, he walked in on the act itself, neither woman caring much for time or place when their urges surged.

    The two entered the study, the closed door drowning out much of the noise. Usually, he would take a seat while Geneva stood at the front of the room to lecture. This time, after he sat in his usual seat, she stepped behind him, placing her hands on either side of his head.

    [Danger approaches, mperkreig. The first true conflict my summoner will face, mayhap. You will not be a burden.]

    ¡°I will be strong for my lady.¡±

    [You have a little sister to protect as well. For all her ferocity, she is still a little girl. Completely at the mercy of any villains that would seek to harm this house.]

    Earls hands balled into fists as vague images invaded his mind. His sister, alternately crying and fighting like mad while held down by faceless men. He wasn¡¯t ignorant enough to think such men didn¡¯t exist. He¡¯d fended them off several times. A few hadn¡¯t been satisfied with a verbal refusal and he¡¯d had to show that he wasn¡¯t to be underestimated, despite his youth.

    [Your sister is depending on you. Your lady expects much of you. Will you fail them?]

    ¡°I won¡¯t fail.¡±

    [Prepare yourself. Tonight¡¯s lesson will be special.]

    Earl blinked and the study faded away, replaced by gray walls of stone. There was a dampness to the air and he could faintly hear the rattling of chains. Finding himself on his back, he quickly stood up, examining his surroundings in more detail. Most notably, the fact that the furthest wall was comprised of thick iron bars, cutting him off from a wide hallway.

    [There is a chance the kingdom will take action against your lady. As you are, you can hardly be counted on to fight. The most you can do is to remain out of their hands but even that asks for much if they make a dedicated effort. So, we will make sure they at least have to work to keep you. This is the dungeon run by Summer Spire¡¯s guard watch. Your task is to escape.]

    Earl moved forward. He scanned the bars and craned his neck to see more of the hallway. In the distance, a wall torch illuminated a small table with a single seated guard, slouched in a way that suggested sleep. At least, Earl thought so until the guard clumsily grabbed reached forward before tilting their head backward. Drinking, he assumed.

    Turning his attention back to his cell, he found a moldy bedroll was rolled up in one corner and there was a length of frayed rope beside it, likely his binding from being captured. Very little to work with but his teacher was not fond of excuses.

    -

    [Time to wake up, mperkreig.]

    Earl blinked. The wilderness outside of Summer Spire was slowly replaced by the study, the sun spilling through the open curtains. The cuts and bruises he¡¯d suffered roughing it while avoiding the king¡¯s knights disappeared like a bad dream. Days had begun to blend together and he couldn¡¯t recall how long he''d been on the run. Days. Weeks. Months.

    ¡­years?

    He stood, swaying on his feet from a mixture of exhaustion and confusion. In the very realistic training, he¡¯d grown up and was used to being taller.

    The confusion faded with a touch from his teacher. [That will take care of the confusion. Do you need my help to stay awake?]

    ¡°I can stand,¡± he said confidently, locking his quivering knees and straightening up. His eyelids felt like stones were weighing them down but he forced them to remain open.

    [Very good. Your performance was¡­as expected.]

    Earl winced. It had taken eleven tries to escape the dungeon and he felt each failure. The first time, he was run through with a sword, slain by the guard in a drunken rage after making enough noise to raise the dead. The fourth time, he¡¯d mistimed his escape attempt during shift change and the two guards had beaten him within an inch of his life. He died in the night from his injuries.

    After months of Geneva¡¯s lessons, Earl was well-accustomed to death. He feared it, being of sound mind, and he was no fan of pain, but their threat was no longer enough to cowl him.

    [We must attend to our duties.]

    Earls smoothed out his jacket, making sure his appearance had remained immaculate.

    [As the steward, the house takes its cue from you. If you are dedicated, the others will feel motivated. If you are tired, then they will also lack energy. Are you tired?]

    He pasted on a smile that exuded exuberance. ¡°No need to worry! I¡¯m ready to start the day!¡±

    Geneva¡¯s answering smile was wide and mischievous, her tail whipping behind her. ¡°Off you go.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the instruction!¡± Earl replied energetically as he hurried from the room. Their big house took quite a lot of work to maintain and with their minimum staff, most of the duties fell to him and his sister.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-19

    Despite our late night, I still find myself waking early. This body doesn¡¯t need much sleep to function, heh. I carefully untangle myself from my wife¡¯s arms that unconsciously fight to keep me close and ease out of bed. Bell comes scampering into the room as I stretch, quickly opening the blinds before appearing at my feet, a glass of water in her tail. ¡°Coo~¡± Good morning, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Hey, Bell.¡± I take the water from her. Bending down, my eyes catch sight of them invitation, the fancy paper forgotten next to the balcony door. Focusing, I craft a spell and release it. My distance variable is a little off and the updraft I summon throws them into the air at the wrong angle. ¡°Cheh.¡±

    Bell, the helpful little imp that she is, quickly dashes to snatch them out of the air, bringing them to me. I take them between two fingers, like one might hold a soiled rag, frowning as once again frowning at their possible implications.

    I¡¯m not sure what the baldie is planning but I refuse to believe this is as innocuous as he wants to make it seem. I¡¯m not about to forget that the man accused me of one of the worst crimes in the kingdom, an offense that could have gotten me killed.

    The question is, do I want to attend and shove whatever plan he¡¯s cooking up down his throat? Or should I just ignore him like the pest he¡¯s shaping up to be. That should hurt his excessive ego nearly as much as embarrassing him in his own home.

    The invitation is fore Fireday. That gives me time to decide. Hopefully, the qualifiers will be over before then. I¡¯d hate to think this is him trying to ruin my chances of becoming an acolyte.

    ¡°Put these away somewhere,¡± I tell Bell before shifting to my elemental form. I can feel a hungry little gaze on my but I ignore my favorite imp, changing back to my prime form before getting ready for the day.

    The smell of breakfast already permeates the house as I make my way to the dining room. Earl is setting the table. He looks up after placing a plate, immediately straightening. ¡°Good morning, my lady!¡± he greets with extra vigor.

    ¡°Morning, Earl.¡± I look him over after taking my seat. Mm, that uniform does look good. Then again, Cosmo¡¯s colors, may he be forever glossy, look good period. ¡°Did you have a good night?¡±

    ¡°Very good, thank you for asking.¡±

    ¡°Any interesting dreams?¡± Am I going to regret asking this? He is a young, teenage boy. Is this house, with influences like Geneva and my wife about, who knows what¡¯s going on that head of his? On the other hand, the boy barely does anything but work and study.

    Saints, he may be my young steward but he¡¯s barely more than a child himself. I¡¯m kind of hi guardian too, aren¡¯t I? Maybe I should be helping him look for a hobby. Or some friends his own age. Salvage some of his fleeting childhood.

    ¡°I dream of serving you, my lady,¡± he says with an innocent smile.

    It takes quite the effort not to grimace at his words. Yeah, definitely need to get this boy out of the house. ¡°That¡¯s great. You do a great job, by the way.¡± Gold is valuable but appreciation is priceless. ¡°The house always looks great and I¡¯m sure Geneva¡¯s lessons can be difficult.¡±

    ¡°Everything she does it to make me a better servant. I am always grateful for instruction.¡±

    Something about his responses¡­ah, forget it. He¡¯s happy, he looks healthy, and he really does a great job. Whatever my succubus is doing to him, it seems to be working wonders. I shouldn¡¯t dig deeper. After all, I¡¯m sure if I do, I¡¯ll find something I don¡¯t like.

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    ¡°How¡¯s Anna?¡±

    ¡°Good. She¡¯s begun helping me in my duties around the house.¡±

    ¡°No need to work her too hard.¡± She¡¯s still a kid.

    ¡°Thank you for your concern, my lady.¡±

    Geneva enters the room with a tray full of steaming food and a glass pitcher of water. As she sets it in front of me, Earl bows and departs. Ah, was he waiting for her to appear? I vaguely recall my father saying a good servant never leaves their master unattended. Saints, he¡¯s becoming a true professional. Another display that convinces me that I don¡¯t need to meddle in Geneva¡¯s affairs.

    Bell leaps onto the table and grabs one of the sausages, nibbling at the end of it adorably. I put my chin in mu hand, taking a moment to enjoy the sight. ¡°I¡¯ve got a job for you, my little helper.¡±

    She looks at me. ¡°Coo?¡±

    ¡°I need you to contact Cloud.¡± Cloudy Blood Moon, who prefers to be called Cloud, the friend I made during my ¡®punishment¡¯ for fighting Samuel. A tamer-in-training for the Temple, the group in charge of the Beast Sanctuary.

    Frankly, I think the Temple is a group of crazy monster worshippers with strange naming conventions, but Cloud¡¯s great. Unconventional, violent, shameless, and a whole host of other things, but tons of fun. If not for Alana, she¡¯d easily be my best friend at the Hall. Still might be, if the future saint finally makes up her mind. ¡°Invite her to accompany me to Howie¡¯s this Restday. It¡¯s for work but the rest of the night is free.¡±

    During a night of fun, I got wrangled into doing a favor for the grumpy goblin. With his actually magical brewing, which may as well be alchemy, the bartender is constantly plagued by the guilds who want to pay him for his services.

    Unfortunately for them, he could care less about the glory of monster slaying, preferring to put all his energy toward his art.

    Unfortunately for him, hunters are stubborn bastards who don¡¯t take ¡®no¡¯ well.

    With an expedition into the Bleak Peaks being planned, the guilds once again pestering him for his cooperation. However, for once, they came with a proposal that Howie is at least considering. They want to discuss in more detail. The goblin is nervous having a group of hunters with an agenda in his bar and had the brilliant idea of hiring someone to protect him.

    Someone being me.

    Squaring off against a handful of the strongest fighters in Quest doesn¡¯t sound like my idea of a good time, but I have my reasons. Chief of which being I can¡¯t have any harm coming to the stingy goblin. He¡¯s the best brewer in the city, maybe the kingdom. I¡¯m certainly not going to stock my cabinets with common swill. Everything else Harvest may as well be piss in a bottle.

    Mushrooms. Who¡¯d have thought?

    Then of course is the expedition itself. The Bleak Peaks. Since the founding of the kingdom, Fort Victory has stood against the horrors beyond the mountain range. A military outpost so large it became its own city.

    Victory has always been involved with anything related to the Peaks, either leading the charge into the land of snow or serving as a staging ground for expeditions led by other parties.

    The James family has controlled Fort Victory and the surrounding territory for as long as anyone can remember. Their land is expansive and prosperous, thanks to its many mines, but no has ever tried to contest their control. With their wealth and authority comes the duty to fend off the most dangerous monsters on the continent.

    If one day, saints forbid, the Lords of Winter descend from their lofty thrones and decide to quash humanity, Fort Victory will serve as the first line of defense, the Victory duchy as the battlefield.

    The James are famous, known for their heavy knights, the strongest foot soldiers in the kingdom, and their legendary stubbornness. After countless failures, they have never given up on their dream of conquering the peaks.

    Not for any conventional reason that spurs most conquests. The land is inhospitable, so they don¡¯t want to expand their territory. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s plenty of natural resources in the mountains, but not enough to justify the loss of life. It¡¯s a grudge, pure and simple. They¡¯ve been getting their asses handed to them for centuries and they won¡¯t rest until they achieve victory.

    Those insane knights are also Alana¡¯s family, though from her account they¡¯ve hardly treated her as such. The woes of being the unwanted daughter of a mistress. Despite that, she¡¯s inherited their grudge. She wants to be the one to conquer the Bleak Peaks one day, going as far as asking me to go with her. Which, being the complete softy I am in the face of my ¡®girls¡¯, I quickly agreed to.

    As an initiate, she has no business getting anywhere near this expedition. She¡¯s got a sensible head on her shoulders. Really, I have no reason to be concerned. No one in their right mind would let her attend that expedition but my life is a series of unfathomable events.

    I¡¯m keeping an eye on the situation. Just in case.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-20

    ¡°Be nice, hm? No hissing when she tries to look at those cute little feet.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± The dejected dip of her head makes me smile. [The dog is a brute. She wants to pull me apart to see what¡¯s on the inside.]

    Ha! That sounds like Cloud, alright. ¡°That¡¯s no way to talk about a friend, pet. Besides, she only wants to play with you a little.¡±

    [She will not be able to handle the kind of play she wants.]

    ¡°Not that I can tell her different.¡± Sensible is not a word one would use to describe a young woman who thinks it¡¯s her sacred duty to wrestle monsters so she can ¡®commune¡¯ with them. Hm. She should be fine. In fact, she might thank me for this. ¡°I¡¯ll make you a deal. You play nice and keep the mental affinity out of it, you can ¡®tame¡¯ her however you like.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± Her smile has a hint of danger about it. Good luck, Cloud! [Thank you, Master Lou. Is there anything else I can do for you?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going through that devious little mind?¡±

    [The invitations. You want to know what the wind caster is planning. I can find out.]

    ¡°Ah, you want to help out, huh? Thank you~ but this might not be a good time.¡± My smile quickly fades as I remember my interview. Miss Talia talked with someone at the end, confirming my responses. I¡¯m sure of it. While it could simply be Dunwayne, which would be its own problem, it could also be an interrogator. Someone practiced in mental affinity could be at the Hall, keeping an eye on me. What would happen if such a person were to discover my imp?

    ¡°Coo coo.¡± [I see. Then shall I be bait? If they are indeed watching you, they will undoubtedly intervene if they discover your elemental probing the residence of an instructor.]

    Bell, did you miss a few details in my thoughts? These aren¡¯t a bunch of acolytes and researchers. They¡¯re trained professionals. Not to mention they¡¯re already suspicious.

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    [Their suspicions mean nothing if I do nothing to validate them. There are means of investigating Aurelius without the use of magic. For all any observer will be able to prove, I am a simple imp, sent to confirm the address on my master¡¯s dinner invitation.]

    I¡¯m ready to continue arguing the point but stop. My reason is I don¡¯t need to do anything to be accused and targeted but that is something of a moot point by now, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m already being targeted. I¡¯m already under threat of execution. ¡°Geneva, your opinion on this?¡±

    [I am confident Bell is strong enough to escape someone of Dunwayne¡¯s level. Capturing the one sent here will be a good step in unraveling this decree. We may obtain clues in identifying the group supporting this decree.]

    These crazy succubi. They¡¯re not just talking about identifying a threat. They want to outright kidnap a court official. I¡¯m assuming they also want to interrogate said official? And then proceed to kidnap and interrogate anyone connected to this possible agent of the court?

    [My summoner, I¡¯ve talked with many wise thinkers and have extensive knowledge with laws. In a desert, there is occasional rain but who would believe in water falling from the sky while walking endless dunes of sand?]

    ¡­what?

    [It means humans believe what they can see and tend to disbelieve what they can¡¯t see. If there is no evidence, did it happen?]

    ¡°That is a very twisted way of seeing things¡­and I love it. Be careful, Bell.¡± If anything happens to you, there really won¡¯t be a way to handle this outside of outright war.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [I will return safely, Master Lou!]

    ¡°After breakfast.¡± I scoop her into my lap and hand her another sausage. I can¡¯t help but grin as she does her adorable eating routine. ¡°Has Callan stopped by yet?¡±

    [No.] Geneva answers.

    ¡°I¡¯ve just had a fantastic idea.¡± Who says good things can¡¯t come from the king trying to screw you over? ¡°This is a good opportunity to get him moving.¡±

    Geneva exits the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, tail swaying. Likely just as amused by my thought as I am. ¡°I want you to visit him. Tell him that about the decree and ¡®warn¡¯ him off it. When he no doubts insist on obtaining the ¡®forbidden¡¯ power, like the arrogant prick he is, I want you to give him some very special summoning records.¡±

    Geneva¡¯s tail whips faster. ¡°Are you sure you want to introduce that creature into this realm? The effect can be far-reaching. Perhaps even beyond this kingdom.¡±

    Hehe. My dear succubus, that is precisely the point. While driving Mr. Self-Made to the very brink of desperation is a goal in of itself, this is also a way to raise awareness of summoners as a whole and to remind the king how terrifying a summoner can be.

    ¡°Very well, my summoner. It will be done.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now, I have a meeting with a future saint.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-21

    Once again, the initiates are gathered outside the Center Hall, meandering around three large signs with identical messages while chatting. I stand far from the back of the crowd but I have no problem reading them, more to do with the excessively large font they¡¯ve used than my enhanced vision. A bird could read them from the clouds.

    QUALIFIER RULES: DEMONSTRATION

    Initiates, for the final part of your evaluation, you will demonstrate your proficiency in spellcrafting and spell use. This year¡¯s test will be ¡®team battles¡¯. Initiates will have two days to form teams with a maximum of five members.

    On Fireday, teams must all register at the Center Hall for competition during Restday and Saintsday. The location of the test will be the Beast Sanctuary. Teams will compete against one another to complete objectives assigned by the evaluating instructors.

    While combat will not be the aim, the use of force will be permitted. The Hall will finance healing of any injuries obtained during the qualifiers. We kindly remind initiates that no unsanctioned duels are allowed on Hall grounds. Results of the qualifiers will be posted the following Saintsday.

    We wish every initiate good luck. Assistant instructors are available to answer any questions.

    The instructions are straightforward enough but I have several questions. Where exactly in the Sanctuary will this competition be taking place? Depending on the answer, the location will be trial enough.

    What kind of objectives will they assign? I¡¯d assume the ability to react quickly to circumstances is a part of the evaluation but depending on what we are asked to do, and where we¡¯re asked to do it, several initiates will be disadvantaged. If we¡¯re asked to, saints, play soldier and defend a caravan from ¡®bandits¡¯, fire casters are going to have a fun time. However, if we¡¯re asked to say, protect a boat on one of the artificial lakes built to house the Sanctuary¡¯s aquatic monsters, the usually underrated water casters are going to destroy everyone.

    Then again, who¡¯s to say these objectives are going to be combat related? Violence may be permitted but what if the goal is something ridiculous like¡­entertaining children? They¡¯re rare but there are casters who learn magic just to perform at festivals and do private shows for nobles. Saints, what if they ask us to compete doing menial jobs? Damn it, I swore to myself I¡¯d never be a ¡®waste caster¡¯!

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    ¡°What¡¯s got you so worked up?¡±

    Alana puts a hand on my shoulder as she walks up to me. I give her a brief smile and gesture toward the signs. ¡°Have you read that?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Talked to Mano. Probably can¡¯t see him through all the bodies. Asked a few questions.¡±

    ¡°Did he say what these objectives are going to be?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t know but they can be anything. Competing to hunt a monster, a race, a juggling contest. As long as it doesn¡¯t directly pit initiates against one another, anything goes, and it is at the sole discretion of the instructors.¡±

    ¡°Fun. About those teams. It says a maximum of five but it doesn¡¯t mention a minimum.¡±

    Her eyes narrow. ¡°You plan on going it alone?¡±

    A part of me feels it could be the safer option. If an event is chosen that depends on cooperation, my success will be directly tied to the abilities of initiates rather than my own. There is a substantial gap between the two.

    On the other hand, I can¡¯t be in two places at once and if the test involves multiple objectives that need to be done simultaneously, I¡¯m screwed. Hell, the qualifiers could have already started and the ability to form a competent, cohesive team may be the first objective they evaluate us on.

    Ugh, I¡¯m giving myself a headache.

    A soft punch draws my attention back to my friend. ¡°You¡¯re overthinking this. This isn¡¯t a trick. They want to see what we can do, don¡¯t they? Missing out on the next Harvest Hero because of a test designed to eliminate people would be ridiculous. They want as many initiates as possible. After all, that¡¯s more money in their pockets.¡±

    That is solid reasoning. ¡°You may be right.¡±

    ¡°You have nothing to worry about. We¡¯ll just follow the rules, play their game, and get on with things.¡±

    ¡°So eager for me to collect on or bet?¡±

    ¡°So eager for me to collect on our bet,¡± she scoffs.

    ¡°Uh-huh. And what is this we? How presumptuous of you, Lady James, attempting to simply insert yourself onto my team.¡± I raise my nose with a sniff. Heh, with my extra inches in height, I¡¯m tall enough to look down on her, just barely. Something she notices as well as she scowls. ¡°I am not so easy.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± she says dryly. ¡°I¡¯d love to see who you get on your team besides me.¡± She waves a hand toward the crowd. Now that I¡¯m looking for it, I can see that most of them are standing close together, already forming their teams. ¡°Go on. See how many others like your ¡®charm¡¯.¡±

    Did she just call me charming? It sounded a little sarcastic but I¡¯ll take it. And I¡¯m not going to take her up on her challenge. I don¡¯t know any of these people. Why would I? While they were getting to know their dorm neighbors and sharing their woes, I was relaxing in a big house with my beautiful wife. They haven¡¯t talked to me so all they have to go on is my reputation.

    Lecherous lover of women. Foolish drunkard. Brutal fighter who made a young nobleman cry. Crazy woman who fought with a prince and got away with it.

    Who in their right mind would want to partner up with me?

    ¡°Fine. I would be lost without you. Happy?¡± I try to sound bitter but I can¡¯t help being amused at her smug grin. ¡°Hopefully, you have someone, or preferably a few someones?¡±

    ¡°There are a few people here who know you aren¡¯t a social plaque. Follow my lead.¡±

    ¡°Happily.¡±

    ¡°And try to be less¡­¡± She pauses, brows furrowing as her hands make random gestures. ¡°Lou?¡±

    I think I¡¯m offended.

    I shake my head as I follow her into the crowd. Not sure what be less ¡®Lou¡¯ means but I try to subdue my awe-inspiring force of personality. Despite my best attempts, whispers follow in my wake as the crowd makes way for us. Alana glances back at me. I shrug my shoulders. Sorry, my saint. As they say, greatness is hard to hide.

    Her reaction is contained to a roll of her eyes and she endures the unexpected attention with a neutral frown. With my peers, hah, being so obliging, I quickly spot her target.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-22

    Marthe is standing before two young men who seem to be trying to convince her to join their team. It¡¯s been quite a while since I¡¯ve seen Alana¡¯s hallmates and first friends at the Hall, as I¡¯ve convinced her to enjoy the perks of my friendship in the Gold Dorm for most of our meals.

    The redhead has changed. Her hair has been cut short, criminally if she were a noble, slightly longer in the front in a way that would frame her face in a flattering manner if not for her constant scowl. He pale skin has a healthy tan, her thin arms some decent definition shown off by her short sleeves despite the approaching winter. At stark odds with her ¡®masculine¡¯ style is a short skirt, showing off a pair of shapely legs. Mm, Kierra¡¯s training has done her good.

    I grin as a soft blow hits my shoulder.

    ¡°I said less Lou,¡± Alana hisses under her breath.

    ¡°What¡¯d I do?¡±

    ¡°If you stared at her any harder, you¡¯d be accused of harassment.¡±

    ¡°I was simply admiring the progress of a fellow initiate,¡± I say without a hint of shame. ¡°You should hurry before our teammate gets poached.¡±

    She huffs in annoyance but speeds up. Our approach catches their attention. The two young men initially look excited seeing Alana, for understandable reasons. Seeing another potential teammate? Or potential something else. She is quite capable but I wouldn¡¯t be strictly thinking of the qualifiers if I were in their shoes.

    Their smiles dim when they spot me over her shoulder. It wouldn¡¯t have anything at all to do with the smile I¡¯m wearing, would it? It may have a bit of ¡®an edge¡¯ but this is me being friendly. I¡¯m simply reminding the gentlemen to mind their manners and not stare at my¡­friend like a pair of dogs spotting a treat.

    ¡°Marthe,¡± Alana calls out. She doesn¡¯t get a warmer greeting than the two young men.

    ¡°Alana the Light Maiden,¡± Marthe says with a clear sneer. ¡°Though, maybe that¡¯s not accurate. Hanging around that shiny pig, who knows? Everyone knows about her.¡±

    I sigh. Forgot about this girl¡¯s way of insulting people. ¡°Told you not to call me shiny.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, you never backed your words up.¡± She slams a fist into a palm. ¡°If you¡¯ve got a problem, we can handle this right now.¡±

    ¡°No one is going to fight anyone,¡± Alana says before I can contemplate whether or not to accept. ¡°I was hoping to speak with you about forming a team.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, Miss James,¡± one of the men says, stepping forward while flashing a smile that is too wide for my liking. ¡°We were also talking with Miss Marthe about joining our team. We have two available spots. It would be our honor to have two brilliant casters such as yourselves join us.¡± His friend nods quickly, smile just as wide.

    ¡°Oh?¡± Alana raises a brow and turns so I am quite visible. ¡°I have already decided to form a team with her.¡± She jerks her head toward me.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Mr. Big Smile glances my way but doesn¡¯t meet my eyes. ¡°Unfortunately, we already have three.¡± Another quick glance in my direction. ¡°Truthfully, I didn¡¯t think Lady Tome would bother to form a team. What initiate hasn¡¯t heard of the prowess of her elementals? She is a one-woman team and an opponent I¡¯d dread to face.¡±

    That is a very polite, well-spoken, and roundabout way of asking me to piss off. Funny how he only calls me with a title despite Alana¡¯s family outranking mine by¡­a lot. Aw, I think he¡¯s a little intimidated by me.

    ¡°They really let anyone enter the Grand Hall these days. Even the illiterate. The signs clearly say that initiates will form a team of five.¡± If forming a team is part of the test, I don¡¯t think my succubi will count. ¡°I highly doubt the instructors will want to waste their time with someone who can¡¯t follow basic instructions. Or read. I¡¯ve got an idea. Why don¡¯t you find someone to teach you letters? That way, we can all fit into a team nicely.¡± I sigh dramatically. ¡°It¡¯s always awkward when someone doesn¡¯t realize they¡¯re the spare wheel on a working carriage.¡±

    He''s watching me with wide eyes, lips pressed into a frown. Surprised, huh? I don¡¯t do indirect insults.

    He¡¯s even more surprised when Alana supports me with a gruff, ¡°That¡¯s how it is. You two should find someone else.¡±

    ¡°I suggest we ask the lady in question.¡± He turns to Marthe. ¡°Surely you¡¯d rather partner with us rather than Miss Tome.¡± There goes his courtesy. In its place, I get a scathing glare. Oh no, some random person with zero importance isn¡¯t groveling at my feet. Whatever shall I do?

    ¡°I want to win,¡± Marthe says plainly. ¡°All I care about is who¡¯s stronger.¡± She gives us a meaningful look.

    ¡°Unsanctioned violence is prohibited by the Hall,¡± Mr. Courtesy says with apprehension at the look I give him. I only smile and extend a hand. A silent but powerful challenge.

    Lips curled in a hint of offense that he can¡¯t keep off his face, he clasps my hand in a tight grip. For him, at least. I can see the veins in his hand standing out as he applies as much strength to our impromptu ¡®duel¡¯ as he can. I can¡¯t even feel his efforts. I tighten my grip a little, as if I¡¯m holding a hand-shaped ice sculpture that might fracture with the slightest mishap.

    He winces audibly. His arm moves as he tries to pull his hand away but I don¡¯t budge, still as a statue. My smile widens as I apply the another tiny fraction of force.

    His face pales, his lips pressed into a tight frown. Satisfied, I let go just as he forcefully pulls back. He stumbles backward. Would have fallen if not for the quick action of his friend who grabs him by the shoulders.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t have to come to a duel, does it?¡±

    ¡°You may be as strong as a man,¡± he spits, eyes hard with anger, ¡°but this is the Hall. I won¡¯t lose to you in casting, which is what matters.¡±

    ¡°If you think knowing magic makes you better than people trained to fight with their bodies, you should say a quick prayer to the saints to look after you during all the times in the future when you¡¯ll get your ass kicked.¡± The fact that I will utterly destroy him with magic is besides the point.

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve decided. I¡¯m joining their team,¡± Marthe says, stepping closer to Alana. She sneers at the two surprised men. ¡°What? Are your ears decorations? I¡¯ve chosen my team. We don¡¯t have any more business, do we?¡±

    ¡°¡­I suppose not. Good day.¡± The angry young man stomps off, his friend quickly following, though he throws several looks over his shoulder.

    I glance around at the crowd watching us with clear fascination. They all turn away. ¡°So, what made you decide to join our team?¡± I ask Marthe without turning. He was wrong but he does have a point. Hard to judge what we can do with a little handshake.

    ¡°Are you fishing for compliments? I¡¯ve seen what you can do. Besides, the dog that barks the loudest has the weakest bite.¡±

    ¡°That so?¡± I guess I can take that to mean I impressed her? Or maybe Mr. Magic Life disappointed her.

    ¡°We need two more teammates,¡± Alana interrupts, bringing us back to our immediate goal.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking, brightie. You¡¯re not getting the brothers.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-23

    ¡°Ah, those two.¡± I assume she¡¯s referring to two more of Alana¡¯s hallmates, Michael and Gabriel. The younger brother Michael, barely more than a boy, is the talented one. Talented enough to be sponsored by the Hall. Due to his age, they allowed his brother Gabriel, his only living relative to accompany him, the two sharing a room and an allowance between them.

    I have no idea why my friend is keen to recruit the boys. Obviously, anyone the Hall has taken an interest in must be skilled but they never made much of an impression. Michael is a bit cowardly, especially in the face of authority. I can sympathize but my old fear was well-justified, we¡¯re talking about royals after all, and quite narrow in scope.

    The boy quakes in his boots at the first sign of trouble with someone of a ¡®higher status¡¯ than him. I can only imagine he somewhat warmed up to me because it¡¯s easy to forget about my title and I¡¯m the opposite of most highborn.

    I wonder if he¡¯ll even be able to hurt a noble brat should the need arise, for fear of the consequences.

    His brother is different, but I wouldn¡¯t call him better. I wouldn¡¯t know what to call him. He hardly speaks and takes his role as his brother¡¯s guardian quite seriously. That¡¯s everything I know about him.

    ¡°We haven¡¯t been rejected until we ask,¡± Alana says as she scans the crowd. I follow her as she moves off, the crowd thinning as we move toward the outskirts.

    Our potential teammates are standing in a group off to the side. I¡¯d think our mission to be a bust already if there weren¡¯t nearly a dozen initiates standing huddled together, talking animatedly. Some of them, anyway.

    I scan the group for the brothers. Michael is a reticent as I remember, standing at the side, his hand holding his arm tightly. His head is bowed, unruly brown hair falling into his face and obscuring his face further. No chance of accidentally meeting someone¡¯s eyes like that. Everything about his posture screams ¡®don¡¯t look at me, nothing to see here¡¯. Ugh, like a rat forced to walk among people, just waiting for the humans to realize what a pest it is and chase it away.

    I¡¯m being uncharitable, I know, but I clearly remember how he and his brother reacted during my trouble with the prince. Acted like they never knew me and didn¡¯t want to. Again, I can understand the reaction. That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to forget that after an extremely long and trying day, I sat down with my supposed ¡®friends¡¯ that turned out to be no friends at all.

    Alana would never have done that, but she¡¯s a saint in the making. Comparing their actions to someone of far more flexible morality, I would never do that to her. It¡¯s not even about protecting my future wife who I¡¯m hoping is simply grappling with a severe case of denial. I wouldn¡¯t abandon anyone, like that. Not even Nomad, the mysterious and possibly crazy, ex-bandit.

    Still, Alana wants him so I¡¯ll keep my small grudge in check.

    Gabriel stands at his shoulder, a silent sentinel. He looks like he¡¯s been taking to foundation well, his severely cropped hair and placid features combined with a noticeable bulk cutting an intimidating figure to most. As opposed to Samuel¡¯s stalwart guard, he is more of a ghost, entirely unconcerned with the living besides the target of his haunting. He is unconcerned with going-ons around him, staring blankly at the sky. I know he''s simply waiting for his brother to finish with the group.

    I spot another familiar face in the group. The last of Alana¡¯s hallmates and a personal pain, Abel.

    Another talented young caster whose stay at the Hall has been sponsored. Not by the Hall but by a noble house in return for his future service. A weasel of a man, down to his thin hair, bloodless lips, and pinched features.

    A firm believer in titles, the well-practiced ass-kisser loves attaching himself to anyone of status, leeching off their families glory and wielding their reputations as his own. First with one of the young lords from his patron family, the infamous Peter Potoculli. Again with Samuel, though I doubt the prince ever knew his name.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Both attempts failed with the downfall of his prospective masters.

    Needless to say, we don¡¯t get along.

    I can¡¯t say the same for the rest of the group. Abel is one of the more animated speakers, unsurprisingly. He loves the sound of his own voice. I can¡¯t help but pick up their topic of conversation and it makes me frown.

    Unscrupulous bastards. Don¡¯t they know proper scheming should be done in just as unscrupulous places? Not out in the open, in broad daylight no less. Do they think so little of the Hall? I¡¯m offended on behalf of all people with good sense. They aren¡¯t even whispering for saints¡¯ sake!

    It isn¡¯t long before we¡¯re noticed, the group pausing in their heated debate to look up. Abel sees Alana and Marthe first. He frowns, though it isn¡¯t exactly unfriendly. Then his gaze moves to me. There¡¯s a moment of furrowed brows as he fails to recognize my changed appearance but I see his brain tumbling, trying to form the connection. It doesn¡¯t take long, I don¡¯t look so different. His eyes widen with recognition. Then he sneers.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    ¡°What, no title? You¡¯re always preaching about how nobles need to be shown proper respect.¡±¡¯

    ¡°You may hold a title but you are far from noble.¡± You¡¯re right, lucky bastard. If I were like the people you admire, you¡¯d have paid for that comment. He turns to Alana. ¡°I see you haven¡¯t taken my advice.¡±

    ¡°Lou is my friend. It¡¯s unfortunate the two of you don¡¯t get along but from my view, that is more a result of your actions than hers.¡±

    Aw, thanks.

    He scoffs. Recognizing a sturdy wall, he moves on to Marthe. ¡°And you? She¡¯s made her bed with hat disgusting pervert but I hardly expected you to willingly share their company.¡±

    ¡°Nobles may be bastards but that doesn¡¯t mean common bastards don¡¯t exist.¡± She turns away from him with a scoff, glaring at the brothers silently watching our standoff; Michael with wide, panicked eyes, Gabriel with his usual indifference. ¡°Oi! You two, join our team.¡±

    Wow. Her powers of persuasion are legendary.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Abel says quickly. ¡°The two of them already have a team.¡±

    ¡°Why are you speaking for them?¡± Alana says. She looks toward the brothers as well. ¡°Michael, Gabriel. Good to see you. Are you doing well?¡±

    Michael stiffens as several gazes turn to him. His brother lays a steadying hand on his shoulder which seems to steady him, the boy letting out a deep breath. His gaze is still shifty but he at least meets her eyes for a moment. ¡°Hey, Alana. I¡¯m good. Um, Abel¡¯s right. I already have a team¡­sorry.¡±

    ¡°So?¡± Marthe says. ¡°You should leave that team and join ours. We¡¯re better.¡±

    ¡°The arrogance!¡± Abel snaps. ¡°You¡¯ve been rejected. Are you going to browbeat the boy until he says yes? Or perhaps you¡¯ll have your creature twists his thoughts until he¡¯s your willing slave.¡±

    I look over my shoulder at Geneva, my silent companion playing her demure role. At his accusation, she shuffles behind me like a little girl hiding behind her mother¡¯s legs to escape scary strangers.

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t learned to watch your words,¡± Alana chastises him. ¡°Michael and Gabriel have the right to decide for themselves. We are simply making them an offer. They can listen and decide for themselves.¡±

    ¡°This is my business as well as you¡¯re attempting to poach members of my team.¡±

    ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve got members to spare,¡± Marthe scoffs.

    ¡°We¡ª¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t,¡± I say, cutting him off. I step forward, making sure they¡¯re all paying attention to me. ¡°They¡¯re all on one team, so to speak. Their plan to ace the qualifiers.¡±

    Shoulders tense and curses slip past tightly pressed lips as I flash them a mocking smile. Really? What did you expect, sharing the dirty details in the open? Whispers can¡¯t protect you.

    ¡°You see, they¡¯re all going to work together. Ten bodies are better than five, aren¡¯t they? And twenty are better still, though the two leaders there aren¡¯t wholly convinced just yet.¡± I point them out, making the two young men jump.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to work together to make sure the instructors see them in the best light. Our performances are being evaluated, each caster on their own merit. Sounds fair until you consider they might get stomped by someone far stronger with having a chance to show what they¡¯re capable of. Perfectly capable casters failing their qualifiers due to bad fortune. So, why not work together to give everyone a fair chance?¡± At least, that¡¯s how Abel is spinning it.

    My smile widens as Abel scowls. The rest of his compatriots are uncomfortable having their scheme exposed but as the ringleader, he¡¯s livid. ¡°It¡¯s not against the rules,¡± he says. ¡°We¡¯re putting on an exhibition. Then it stands to reason that we should give each other a proper chance to show our best selves. This entire test is about cooperation, is it not?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s what you want to tell yourself, coward,¡± Marthe snaps. ¡°What?¡± she sneers when he glares at her. ¡°This is all because you¡¯re scared someone better than you is going to embarrass you. Weakling.¡±

    ¡°While her tone could use some work, her words are correct,¡± Alana adds with a steely voice. Oh, my future is not happy at the implication of unfair conduct. ¡°You do not need to go against the letter of rules to go against their spirit. Otherwise, you would be standing before the whole of the initiates rather than enticing the weak-will with whispers. Shameful.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-24

    ¡°What do you know?¡± Abel shouts. ¡°Ignore them. If they want to take this test lightly, let them. The reason I¡¯m not standing in front of the whole crowd is to keep away idiots like you who don¡¯t take the Hall seriously. You can take your disapproval and condescension somewhere else. We have important matters to discuss.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you would like to share these important matters with the assistant instructors,¡± Alana counters. ¡°They are here to help us. I¡¯m sure they¡¯d be happy to cooperate with your wonderful plan. Perhaps they¡¯ll let you skip the qualifiers in recognition of your¡­brilliance and charity.¡±

    I snicker at his expression. For someone who loves talking, his back and forth is weak. At the mention of involving the acolytes, Abel¡¯s bluster takes a big hit and his lips scrunch up. It¡¯s the final straw for the two team leaders he¡¯s trying to reel in and they break free of his line, eyes glued to the ground as they skulk away with the forced nonchalance of a cheating husband greeting his secret mistress on a night out with his wife.

    Oh no, a few of the already converted are starting to show doubts. They¡¯re shuffling their feet and exchanging whispers. Everyone is focused on Abel and he tries to calm them down with a few harsh whispers, mixes of encouragement and beratement for being intimidated by two ¡®girls¡¯, heh.

    Alana takes the chance to hammer the nail in deeper. ¡°If being discovered makes you all uncomfortable, then you should think carefully about if you should be doing it. Failing may be sad but you can always try again. Cheaters and scoundrels? They¡¯ll never let you step foot on the Hall again. Your reputations will be destroyed. Think while you have the chance. Regrets too often come too late.¡±

    Her moving words have a few more shuffling their feet and looking askance. If Abel was angry before, he¡¯s homicidal now. He looks like he wants to smack my friend into silence. However, everyone here knows how that will end. In the tried and true method of the nobles he admires, Abel shifts the blames, whirling on the nervous boy, ¡°Michael! Send these wenches on their way so we can be done with this farce!¡±

    The boy couldn¡¯t look more panicked if someone threw a monster at his face. The air is tense as every eye turns to him. Many annoyed, obviously blaming him for drawing us to their meeting. Abel is one of them, but above all, his glare is expectant, silently telling Michael to get on with it.

    The boy caves against the combined displeasure, curling into himself like a beaten dog as he answers us in a stuttering voice.

    ¡°As he s¡ªsaid, I already have a team. T¡ªthank you for the offer but I am afraid I have to decline.¡± He swallows carefully, looking up several times to see if we are responding to his choice negatively.

    Alana does the exact opposite of course. ¡°I see. A shame. Then we will leave you all to your¡­preparations.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you should hurry,¡± Abel snaps. ¡°It will take quite the effort to find anyone willing to partner with her.¡± He sneers at me before decisively turning away. Michael sends us one more look before moving closer to the group, doubling down on his decision.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Gabriel follows, but he looks over to us. I wave at his polite nod.

    ¡°Well,¡± I say, leading Alana away with a hand on her shoulder. ¡°You have been well and truly rejected.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean we have been rejected?¡± she counters, side-eyeing me. ¡°You were standing there too. And I¡¯m sure most of their problems were with you, degenerate.¡±

    ¡°My reputation proceeds me,¡± I say proudly. ¡°But I think their problem was more with the fact that we weren¡¯t willing to sink to their level. Forgive me if I¡¯m insulting your friend but I don¡¯t think the brothers are much of a loss.¡±

    ¡°Shiny¡¯s right,¡± Marthe adds. ¡°He¡¯s good but we don¡¯t need them. I wouldn¡¯t trust a rat to watch my brat, hmph. I¡¯d rather have no teammate at all than carry around deadweight.¡±

    ¡°The qualifiers can be anything,¡± Alana muses. ¡°Michael may not be a fighter but the water affinity is incredibly versatile. Gabriel may not have the same level of talent but he keeps his brother focused. We don¡¯t need fighters.¡±

    ¡°Heh.¡± I grin and pull her closer. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°What? What are you thanking me for? I didn¡¯t say anything about you.¡±

    ¡°You clearly just said that you depend on me.¡± We don¡¯t need any fighters, is it? She can only say something like that because she trusts my strength, right? I swear, this girl¡¯s tongue is dangerous, seducing poor women without her any the wiser. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. With me here, these qualifiers will be easy.¡±

    She scoffs and turns away. ¡°I could have been speaking about Marthe.¡±

    ¡°We both know you weren¡¯t.¡± I turn to our third. ¡°Speaking of, what can you do?¡± I didn¡¯t question Alana¡¯s choice in teammates because I¡¯m fairly confident in my ability to handle everything. However, that¡¯s if it comes to confrontations. These qualifiers really can be anything. Still confident, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to ask a few more questions.

    Abel was right about one thing, as much as it annoys me to give him any ¡®victory¡¯. As questionable as his ¡®strategy¡¯ is, he is quite determined to and I am treating this as a joke. With the difference in our abilities and goals, our different approaches are only natural, but maybe I can take this a bit more seriously.

    If for no other reason than the fact that Kierra will never let me live it down should I fail.

    Marthe huffs. ¡°The same thing you can do, shiny. Throw fire them until they stop moving.¡±

    That is far less than what I can do.

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her,¡± Alana says. ¡°She has an impressive level of control in her spells, especially for a fire caster. If you hadn¡¯t noticed, she¡¯s using a spell to keep warm despite that ridiculous attire.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You¡¯re ridiculous. I don¡¯t like being smothered.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I say, reaching out a hand. She backpedals but I¡¯m far faster. My hand pauses before touching her as I encounter warm air. ¡°Huh. Okay, that¡¯s impressive.¡± Most fire casters don¡¯t bother to learn control, preferring power over finesse. After all, our prime role in the kingdom is exterminating threats. What¡¯s a bit of warm breeze going to do to a monster?

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your praise!¡± she growls.

    ¡°No need to be embarrassed,¡± I say nonchalantly, ignoring her tone. I hear her heart thumping. Weak to praise, huh?

    Alana hums in thought, ignoring the two of us. ¡°Our team is strong but we need diversity. There¡¯s no telling what these objectives will be. I would like two other affinities. One other, at the very least.¡±

    ¡°Any other likely candidates?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Those I would suggest appear to already have teams.¡±

    ¡°Marthe?¡±

    She scoffs, turning her head away. No surprise there.

    ¡°Alright. Looks like it¡¯s down to me.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-25

    They both give me incredulous looks.

    ¡°If we¡¯re going to be teammates, you should start believing in me. It¡¯s not that hard, girls.¡± I quickly scan the crowd, combining my impressive vision and hearing. I¡¯m not simply searching for those who are alone. I want the people who are alone and dejected, those who are desperate. They may not be the most skilled but they¡¯ll certainly be eager.

    What¡¯s that? I¡¯m targeting and potentially exploiting vulnerable targets? Please. The people I¡¯m targeting are the luckiest people here, being gifted victory for nothing.

    It doesn¡¯t take long to spot my first perspective. He is standing near one of the signs, head bowed in contemplation. Slightly taller than average, but narrow shoulders. Don¡¯t expect him to be wrestling anyone with those skinny limbs. Let¡¯s hope he has far more magical prowess.

    What draws my attention to him is how quiet he is. He¡¯s not simply ruminating on how to approach potential teammates, he¡¯s not even trying. It also looks like the few people near him are avoiding him, though they give him quick looks from the corner of their eyes. Very unfriendly looks.

    Mm. I smell desperation.

    ¡°Possible teammate spotted,¡± I declare, pointing him out. The others follow my gaze, Alana stepping in front of my as she heads over. Doesn¡¯t even question my reasons. And you want me to believe you don¡¯t depend on me? Hah.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± she calls out once we¡¯re close. When he doesn¡¯t turn around, she briefly taps his shoulder.

    The young man turns around. Fairly plain face, with dark hair and eyes. He is wearing a pair of glasses, two lenses specifically crafted to aid those with weak vision, held in a brass frame. Quite rare. Most who can afford the rare tool can also afford a specialized healer. The difference is that access to a healer is restricted.

    Powerful healers are rare and in high demand. One needs connections to meet them. Artisans and crafters are much easier to contact and contract.

    He pushes up his glasses, gaze slowly moving between the three of us.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± Alana repeats.

    ¡°Yes, good morning. I apologize for ignoring your earlier greeting, I didn¡¯t think you were addressing me.¡± He places a hand on his chest and bows shallowly. ¡°William Hempshire, fourth son of baron Hempshire of an unremarkable town I doubt you¡¯d know. A pleasure.¡±

    Son of a baron, is it? ¡°Military or merchant?¡± I ask, cutting off Alana. Sorry, but it¡¯s important.

    Baron is the lowest and most common noble title, frequently given to those who have done a great ¡®service¡¯ for the kingdom. That translates to exemplary military service, hunters who¡¯ve made a name for themselves, and the occasional local hero.

    Fighting isn¡¯t always required. Merchants with enough money can grease the right palms and they often do. After all, nobles are the only ones allowed to own property. It¡¯s a very profitable field in itself but if they aren¡¯t nobles, they will be signing away a considerable amount of their profits to their landlords.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    That is about the only privilege being a baron does allow. It doesn¡¯t come with territory or governing powers. Worse, the title isn¡¯t hereditary. Children of barons and baroness are commoners. Fathers can¡¯t pass their properties to their sons unless they earn their own titles.

    For this, many derisively call them ¡®fake nobles¡¯.

    ¡°Military. Royal army.¡±

    ¡°A proper baron then.¡± The few barons who are respected are the ones strong enough to run a sword through anyone who disrespects them. The peerage only truly hate ¡®gold nobles¡¯, especially the ones with more money than them.

    ¡°Where I¡¯m from, that¡¯s an insult.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t mean any offense,¡± Alana say quickly.

    ¡°Yeah. Let me change that to I¡¯m very hopeful to see what you can do.¡±

    He blinks. ¡°Are you asking me to join your team?¡±

    Alana shakes her head. ¡°Yes, this is a bungled invitation to join our team. We are still lacking two members.¡±

    ¡°¡­so easily? Without knowing me or what I can do?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a fire affinity, do you?¡± I could check myself with one of my ¡®films¡¯ designed to allow me to see mana but those cause my eyes to change, very noticeably. Besides, I¡¯m reasonably confident he doesn¡¯t. Doesn¡¯t feellike a fire caster. It''s a lame joke but we tend to be¡­fiery.

    ¡°I do not. I have the water affinity and I am quite confident in my skill.¡±

    ¡°Then that¡¯s all we need to know. Welcome to the team, William. Will. Willie. Liam? No, that doesn¡¯t suit you.¡±

    He clears his throat. ¡°Eh-hem. Well, before that, we should discuss the reason I am currently alone. You deserve to know before accepting me. I am having trouble finding teammates due to interference from my elder brothers, all acolytes of the Hall. We are in competition. The rest, I¡¯m sure you can infer.¡±

    ¡°First one to a title inherits the family fortune?¡± I guess. It¡¯s a common enough story in houses with more than one son.

    ¡°With a few additions but you have the gist of it. I feel it is only fair you know that accepting me onto your team will incur their anger. They will do everything they can to ensure I fail my qualifiers and you will all be considered collateral. We will be targeted. Mayhap killed.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see how they intend to interfere when we are being watched by the instructors,¡± Alana says with a frown.

    ¡°Spells will be thrown. Accidents have happened in the past, though they are rarely fatal. It may not be during the qualifiers themselves either, as I can also fail if misfortune prohibits my team from competing.¡±

    Proper intrigue. Saints, I haven¡¯t heard plotting of this degree since I was a young girl attending tea parties in Summer Spire.

    ¡°Please think carefully.¡±

    His gaze is intense as he waits for my answer. Perhaps a little resigned. I can understand why he¡¯s alone if that¡¯s his pitch. Who would willingly accept someone who puts the rest of the team in unnecessary danger? No wonder the other initiates are treating him like he has the plaque.

    Despite knowing it¡¯ll lead to such a result, he¡¯s still upfront about his circumstances. Admirable.

    ¡°Alana?¡± I ask. She nods sharply. Should¡¯ve guessed.

    ¡°Marthe?¡±

    ¡°Think I¡¯m scared of a few scheming shinies?¡± She sneers. ¡°They¡¯ll regret coming after me.¡±

    ¡°There you have it. Unanimous agreement. You¡¯re on the team.¡± Hah! They¡¯re going to pit the rest of the initiates against us? What a joke. Now, if they somehow turn the instructors against us, things will get interesting, which is reason enough to do it. Cosmo¡¯s first tenet; an interesting person is a valuable person.

    William directs another shallow bow towards us. ¡°Thank you all for your understanding and kindness.¡±

    ¡°She actually found someone that fast,¡± Alana mutters. ¡°Of course someone troublesome though.¡± I ignore her.

    ¡°Alright, Willie. We should introduce ourselves probably. I¡¯m¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please. Lady Lourianne Tome. Lady Alana James. Marthe the Inferno.¡± He fiddles with his glasses at the looks we give him. ¡°I make a point to remember any important figures around me. Part of the reason my father sent us here was to form valuable connections. It¡¯s a habit.¡±

    Hah! My father tried to ingrain the same one in me. His ability reflects well on him, or at least his work ethic. Mm, I¡¯ve made a good selection.

    But I do have a question¡­

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-26

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± Marthe snaps.

    ¡°My apologies for any offense. At home, it is proper to address those without a surname by any titles they may have earned from their peers. It¡¯s a sign of respect.¡±

    Which brings me to my question. ¡°Marthe the Inferno?¡± I ask, lips pressed together to hold back a laugh.

    She scoffs. ¡°Stupid name a bunch of idiots gave me. Nothing respectable about it.¡±

    ¡°A title earned from her many victories on the dueling field against our fellow initiates,¡± William adds. ¡°In one particular display against a water caster who attempted to exhaust her by quenching her flames, she covered almost all of the dueling field in fire in an impressive display of power. Hence, the Inferno.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, stupid,¡± Marthe groans.

    ¡°Title giving is common amongst fellows.¡± Alana chuckles. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so quick to dismiss it. It truly is meant to show respect.¡±

    ¡°That right brightie? How would you like it?¡±

    ¡°Alana the Bright,¡± I muse.

    ¡°No,¡± she says immediately.

    ¡°Alana the Brave?¡±

    ¡°Saints, Lou. No. Quit trying to give me a title.¡±

    ¡°Alana the Strict?¡±

    Her hand snaps out, grabbing the collar of my shirt and yanking me toward her. ¡°I¡¯ll show you strict,¡± she hisses between grit teeth.

    I lean toward her, not bothered by her threat in the slightest. ¡°How about Alana the Tease?¡± I whisper, licking my lips.

    ¡°You¡­¡± Her face flushes with embarrassment as she shoves me away. ¡°We should give you a title. Lou the Pervert,¡± she growls.

    ¡°The Fool,¡± Marhte throws in.

    ¡°The Fornicator,¡± Alana retorts, raising a brow in challenge.

    ¡°The Swine.¡±

    ¡°Far too basic. The Eternal Reverie.¡±

    ¡°Hah? Stop making it complicated. You think bards want to sing long titles? The Greedy.¡±

    ¡°Can you both stop?¡± I say, a touch miffed. Even someone as shameless as me doesn¡¯t have thick enough to ignore the clear mocking. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t treat a maiden¡¯s heart too roughly.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Show me this maiden,¡± Alana says quickly. ¡°She does have a point though. As a noblewoman, any title given to her would have to be more refined. A serious one at least. How about¡­the Flower-Picker.¡±

    I can¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°That¡¯s undoubtedly a compliment! Unfortunately, I don¡¯t get around that much.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Flower Gazer is more appropriate.¡±

    ¡­that¡¯s on the verge of insulting me again.

    ¡°The Venisuela.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°The venisuela is a plant, specifically a vine that is famous in Rosentheim,¡± William answers. ¡°Little purple flowers grow along the vine, quite beautiful. The vine is famous because two vines will instinctively move toward one another and twine around each other. Their ¡®ropes¡¯ can contain dozens of vines, until they¡¯re as thick as logs. They also instinctively do it in a way that none of the flowers are crushed.¡±

    Flowers twined around each other. Wow. I¡¯m impressed.

    I¡¯m not the only one as Alana slowly claps. ¡°I lose. That was inspired.¡±

    ¡°Did you think I¡¯m some unlearned idiot? Hmph. I may not be a noble but that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t read.¡± Girl just can¡¯t take a compliment. ¡°Enough fooling around. We need to find our last member. Time isn¡¯t slowing down for us.¡±

    ¡°Eh-hem. If you all are agreeable, I have a suggestion. I have an¡­acquaintance. An earth caster of considerable skill, already tested in combat. I was considering forming a two-man team before you approached.¡±

    ¡°If this person¡¯s such a catch, why don¡¯t they have a team?¡± I ask.

    He looks away, looking uncomfortable. ¡°He¡¯s¡­eccentric. Most find his personality overbearing but I have the utmost confidence that the three of you will be his match.¡±

    Is he implying that the three of us are just as overbearing? Heh. ¡°How ominous. Well? Where is our lucky fifth?¡±

    ¡°Ah. I know where to find him. Unless you ladies already have plans for the day?¡±

    ¡°Who does this bastard think he is, making us track him down?¡± Marthe grumbles. ¡°Forget it. I say we take our chances here. Whoever this clown is, he¡¯ll be there once we finish with the crowd right here.¡±

    ¡°Miss Marthe¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do I look like a miss to you?¡±

    Under the weight of her glare, William shuffles nervously. ¡°Eh-hem. Marthe, then. I understand that I¡¯m asking much of you, but please reconsider. If may be going out of your way and I have not said many good words about him, but his skill is real. I¡¯m confident in it.¡±

    ¡°How confident?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Being unable to find a team to his satisfaction, he simply laughed and determined to handle the test on his own.¡±

    Oh hoh. Either our potential fifth is a colossal idiot or quite skilled indeed.

    The best thing about being around interesting people is that they drag you into interesting situations.

    ¡°Damn it, Lou.¡±

    I turn to Alana with a raised brow. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything.¡±

    ¡°I know that look.¡± She sighs. ¡°We already have one team who is being targeted by his family. Maybe we can find someone more normal? No offense, William.¡±

    ¡°None taken. You have only spoken the truth.¡±

    ¡°Just like it¡¯s a truth that you can¡¯t help looking for trouble.¡±

    I laugh at her glare. ¡°It¡¯s my second affinity,¡± I say with a laugh. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m sure if this guy is the worse, our current team can handle the qualifiers just fine.¡±

    I would have been satisfied with just Alana, as I¡¯m no longer paranoid about hiding my abilities. Well, not as paranoid. Ah, I need to have a conversation with Alana. It wouldn¡¯t be right for her to find out with everyone else if I suddenly reveal a second or third affinity.

    I¡¯m not ready to tell her everything. That information is still too dangerous, especially with people connected to the interrogators, if not the criminal hunters themselves, targeting me. The rest remains secret for now.

    ¡°So? Where is this friend of yours?¡±

    ¡°I believe I know where to find him.¡±

    ¡°You believe?¡± Marthe practically growls. ¡°Are we going to have to run all over the Hall looking for this guy? Why are we doing this again.¡±

    ¡°Eh-hem. I mean, I am reasonably confident I know where he is. Are you ladies willing to take a trip to the Grand Market?

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-27

    Marthe lets out another round of complaints being asked to go so far out of her way, but I quell her anger by assuring everyone I¡¯ll handle transportation. I send Geneva back to the house to grab the carriage while we all walk to the Gold Dorm for an early lunch. Marthe refuses, vehemently, to enter the opulent building, which means I have to carry the food out to her. The looks that garners, from the staff and rich acolytes both, is reason enough to do it. Gave me a good laugh.

    Once Geneva arrives, we all pile into the carriage, though it takes a little extra effort with the redhead. I¡¯m starting to believe she¡¯s allergic to wealth and all its representations. She grumbles in front of the carriage, her curses and pacing reminding me of a skittish deer despite her aggression. It takes me bodily lifting her in to break the stalemate, earning me a look of offended shock.

    ¡°I see you have had extensive work down on your personal carriage,¡± William remarks once we¡¯re on our way, adjusting himself on the comfortable bench. ¡°Pardon me if this causes any offense but I didn¡¯t think the Tome family had accumulated so much wealth.¡±

    ¡°Hey, little lord. Didn¡¯t anyone ever teach you that certain topics are forbidden?¡± I chuckle, raising three fingers. ¡°A woman¡¯s body, a man¡¯s money, and a family¡¯s honor. Mention any of those and you¡¯re asking for trouble.¡± That comment treaded dangerously close to two, ignoring a few pronouns.

    ¡°Forgive me for any offense. I simply wish to mend any gaps in my knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it takes a lot to offend me. To answer your question, the finances of the Tome family are a mystery to me. Somehow, Uncle Jackal has managed to keep the estate in our name, saints bless him. My personal finances and that of my household are rather substantial. Enough to afford a few luxuries.¡±

    ¡°Her wife has all the money.¡± Alana mercilessly destroys my grand image. ¡°She¡¯s a kept woman.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me. I am not a kept woman,¡± I huff.

    ¡°Sure, you¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°Your marriage, yes. I make it a point to memorize names of those who could be important but yours was hard to miss. Quite a life you have lived, your ladyship.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like you¡¯re cursing me. My life¡¯s barely started.¡± I wonder how long I can live. My original body is made of mana. Can I age? Can I die of natural causes? ¡°You sound like you¡¯ve lived quite the life yourself. Four sons competing with each other for their father¡¯s inheritance.¡±

    He grimaces. ¡°I am not nearly as enticed by my father¡¯s holdings as my elder brothers. I am perfectly content to make my own way in this life. My stake in the competition is one of self-preservation. They don¡¯t believe my lack of desire for my father¡¯s riches. Simply taking their abuse is no life and if I present myself as too weak, they will simply kill me.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    He blinks. ¡°Is there something else you¡¯d like to know?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to be working together, Willie. Come on, tell me about yourself.¡±

    William clears his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m very interesting.¡±

    ¡°You certainly aren¡¯t helping yourself with that attitude. You can¡¯t study magic all day, every day. You¡¯ve got hobbies, don¡¯t you? Maybe a girlfriend?¡± I wiggle my eyebrows. ¡°You joined our team because you saw three pretty women, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Lady Tome, I assure you I had no improper¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be shy! Who could blame you? Unless we¡¯re not your type.¡±

    Willaim clears his throat. ¡°You are all certainly, ahem, attractive. Any man would be lucky to catch your attention.¡±

    ¡°Or woman.¡±

    His eyes widen. ¡°Ah, yes. Or¡­woman.¡±

    ¡°No need to limit your options. If pretty young ladies aren¡¯t your fancy, there¡¯s always pretty young men. I certainly wouldn¡¯t cast judgment. You two?¡±

    ¡°He looks like the soft type,¡± Marthe says with a grin as William grimaces.

    Alana refuses to join in on the fun, shaking her head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have those kinds of interest. If I must state a preference to ease any doubts¡­¡± His eyes slowly move to Alana. She meets his gaze with a small frown. Heh.

    He¡¯s the first to look away, clearing his throat with the faintest blush on his cheeks. ¡°Eh-hem. Well, suffice it to say that I am only interested in women.¡±

    ¡°Any details you¡¯d like to share?¡± The dorms aren¡¯t separated by gender, though the rooms are in different halls. A few extra steps aren¡¯t enough to dissuade those of romantic persuasions. People keep it discreet most times, especially initiates, but I¡¯ve heard plenty of scandalous stories from Alana.

    Our nervous teammate is saved by Alana punching me in the arm. ¡°Don¡¯t mind her. She just wants someone else¡¯s mind to be filled with the same nonsense taking the place of her good sense.¡±

    I relent in the face of her disapproval. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll wait till our second meeting before prying out your secrets. I guess we can talk about our mysterious fifth.¡±

    He chuckles. ¡°Do not worry for me, Lady James. I am quite used to it, growing up with three brothers. And¡­well, it is better for you to draw your own judgments.¡±

    [Lou, we will arrive in a moment.]

    ¡°I¡¯ll be making that judgment sooner than you think.¡±

    -

    The place where we¡¯re meeting our prospective fifth is a small restaurant named the Tall Tale. A quaint wooden sign with its name written in gold cursive hangs over the open door, the chatter of patrons drifting out onto the street. Posters of food hang in the long windows, so detailed I almost believe I can grab them off the paper, especially so with the inviting smells dragging me toward the opening by the nose.

    A young woman stands beside the doorway greeting customers and calling out to passerbys in someone¡¯s dirty reimagining of a maid outfit. Saints. The skirt is far too low, drawing the eye to her plump thighs and threatening to reveal something indecent with every movement. Her chest almost spills out of her scandalously low neckline as she waves, gestures, and practically drags in customers.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t they afraid people might get the wrong idea about this place?¡± I ask as we walk toward the restaurant. Looking at her, I¡¯d think they were serving from a different kind of menu.

    ¡°They¡¯ve got plenty of security,¡± William says. ¡°The owner is a master earth caster. Only a few people have the bad sense to cause trouble and no one causes trouble twice.¡±

    We¡¯re close enough for the maid, which is what I choose to think of her as rather than a few more¡­explicit terms that come to mind, to notice us and she flashes us the same practiced smile I¡¯ve seen her use till now. However, once her eyes move to William it becomes genuine.

    ¡°William!¡± she shouts, moving away from her post to greet us. He raises a hand but she steps past it, pulling him into a hug, one hand on his shoulder and the other pulling down his head. He blushes all the way to his ears as his nose is pressed into the valley of her ample chest, lucky bastard.

    He mumbles and wiggles his way out of her hold, straightening his rumpled shirt with quick, nervous gestures. ¡°Yes, hello, Erin. Please stop such exuberant greetings. They¡¯re likely to cause misunderstandings."

    ¡°Would that be such a bad thing?¡± she says playfully, chuckling when he turns his gaze. ¡°You¡¯re so easy.¡± Her eyes finally move to the rest of us. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve brought new customers! Three pretty girls, huh. This why you don¡¯t want any misunderstandings?¡±

    William clears his throat strongly. ¡°Eh-hem. This is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just call me Lou,¡± I say quickly, stepping in front of him. I hold out my hand. Raising a brow, she follows my lead and places her fingers on my palm, snickering as I lay a kiss on the digits. ¡°A shame we haven¡¯t met before now. Willie didn¡¯t tell me he had such a lovely friend.¡± Nevermind that I didn¡¯t know him until today.

    ¡°Right back at you.¡± Her wink is playfully exaggerated. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to want a job? Put you in some pants and a nice vest, mm. You¡¯ll have the girls dancing in the palm of that strong hand.¡±

    ¡°If only I had the time,¡± I sigh dramatically. ¡°I¡¯d work for the¡­ambiance alone.¡± I blatantly ogle her. Something she must be quite used to wearing such daring clothes as she doesn¡¯t even bat an eye.

    ¡°Sure I can¡¯t tempt you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m absolutely sure you can so play nice.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-28

    ¡°If you¡¯re done,¡± Alana says dryly.

    ¡°Who¡¯s this? Girlfriend?¡±

    ¡°I wish.¡±

    ¡°Teammate,¡± Alana snaps. ¡°His and hers,¡± she says gesturing to Marthe and William. Why am I not being mentioned? ¡°And we¡¯re here to meet out potential fifth, if everyone remembers.¡±

    Erin leans toward me and ¡®whispers¡¯ behind her hand, ¡°Is she always this grumpy?¡±

    ¡°Only around pretty women,¡± I ¡®whisper¡¯ back, grinning at Alana¡¯s deepening frown.

    ¡°She¡¯s got nothing to be worried about though. She isn¡¯t ugly by anyone¡¯s standards. Except the weirdos.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s cause I¡¯m around them too.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Jealously can be hot.¡±

    ¡°Right?¡±

    ¡°I am not¡ª¡± She cuts herself off, shaking her head while muttering, ¡°Why are there so many perverts?¡± under her breath. Louder she says, ¡°Can we get on with it?¡±

    ¡°I agree with brightie.¡±

    Erin laughs good naturedly. ¡°Okay~ If William¡¯s bringing you, you all must be looking for Arthur. He¡¯s inside at his usual table.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Erin,¡± William says.

    ¡°Eh, you can thank me by not making a ruckus. He¡¯s learned how to behave himself somewhat but you know how he is.¡± She looks at me with pitying eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you willingly agreed to team up with him. It¡¯s enough to get you sainted.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never met this, Arthur, was it? So, I wouldn¡¯t know. You¡¯re getting my hopes up though.¡±

    ¡°You like pains in the asses?¡±

    ¡°Heh, I like interesting people.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s certainly that. Come on, I¡¯ll take you all inside.¡±

    She waves for us to follow as she heads toward the restaurant. Stepping past the threshold, I¡¯m hit by a current of warm air laced with mouth-watering smells. The room is bisected by a wide walkway occupied by fast moving servers pushing carts and carrying trays. Near the front all small tables with two seats, bathed in ample sunlight with views to the street. The tables get bigger the further away from the door, with long dining tables against the back wall. Along the walls are intimate booths, shadowed just enough to give the illusion of privacy.

    At the back of the room are two doors marked ¡®entry¡¯ and ¡®exit¡¯. Every time one swings open, a puff of fragrant air enters the dining area along with the clamoring of pots and pans.

    The d¨¦cor is cheerful if plain, with beige walls and white tablecloths. That certainly isn¡¯t what¡¯s drawn the room full of customers. That would be the¡­servers? Greeters? Characters?

    ¡°Welcome back, master~¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You should consider yourself lucky to be allowed within three feet of me.¡±

    ¡°Bwahaha! ¡®Nother round fer me mates, lasses!¡±

    Seated at different tables or simply posed at different locations are ladies dressed in varying costumes. There¡¯s quite a variety; a handful of maids who must be a popular trope, a haughty noblewoman with who I think are customers serving her, a sailor who may or may not be a pirate, and several others. It¡¯s like dinner and theatre combined, with customers having a chance to interact with their favorite characters. It doesn¡¯t hurt that they¡¯re all lookers and their ¡®costumes¡¯ border on scandalous.

    ¡°This is¡­unique,¡± I say, glancing around the room with interest.

    Erin giggles. ¡°The boss just wants to cook. She leaves everything in the dining room to the manager and he never left the stage.¡± She rolls her eyes. ¡°Every new server gets the chance to design a character, including the costume and story. They get a commission based on the money the table spends. Every month, customers rank their favorite characters and they get bonuses based on their position. Though it¡¯s all a bit of fun. Trust me, people here for the food. Well, most people.¡±

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    She points toward a booth near the back left corner. A fairly large man is squeezed onto one of the small benches, surrounded by three costumed women.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to get back to the door,¡± Erin says with a bright smile. ¡°Lou, great meeting you. Make sure you order something, yeah? I guarantee you¡¯ll be back for seconds and I expect to see you at my table.¡±

    The silly girl reaches out and bops my nose with the tip of her finger, giggling cutely as she prances toward the door. Delightful.

    ¡°You can stop drooling.¡±

    The spritely Erin leaves, abandoning me to the spiteful Alana. ¡°Alright, Alana.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Let¡¯s just meet this guy.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Allow me to lead the way.¡± William courteously takes the lead and we follow him as he weaves through the tables. As we approach the booth, the conversation between our potential fifth and his tablemates becomes easier to focus on. Not that there¡¯s much to gleam. They¡¯re hardly exchanging words. The guy, Arthur was it, is laughing uproariously between downing some kind of drink while the women pour his refills and cheer him on.

    He slams down his mug as we reach the table. Slightly glazed over eyes the color of coal turns to us. They narrow as they focus on William before he grins. ¡°Will! What are you doing here!?¡±

    Arthur stands up¡­and up. Saints, he¡¯s tall. Taller than Kierra and my elf towers over most. He has the bulk to match, his thin linen shirt barely containing his broad shoulders and powerful muscles. Shaggy, dark hair falls to his shoulders in a wild waves, scruffy facial hair adding to his unkempt look.

    He slaps a large hand on William¡¯s should, making him stumble. ¡°I¡¯m glad you decided to join me but don¡¯t expect me to share the women, bwahahaha!¡±

    ¡°Eh-hem.¡± William shouts us a nervous look. ¡°Arthur, I did come for a drink. I have found a team and convinced them to meet you as a possible teammate.¡±

    ¡°Hm? Team?¡±

    ¡°¡­for the qualifiers.¡±

    ¡°Bah! I told you, I¡¯m more than enough to handle these twigs that think they have what it takes to be casters. But¡­¡± For the first time, Arthur¡¯s gaze moves toward us, narrowed in quiet focus. He approaches me first and I meet his gaze with an easy smile, crossing my arms.

    ¡°Not even going to introduce yourself?¡± I ask with a raised brow as he remains quiet.

    ¡°Hm. Not bad. I¡¯d say¡­a seven out of ten. I prefer softer women but you¡¯re a looker, bwahaha!¡±

    ¡°Ugh.¡± Being complimented by a man doesn¡¯t feel good at all.

    ¡°Hehe, and that chest is quite impressive.¡±

    I see him raising his hand. I know where it¡¯s headed, the fingers flexing indecently, but I¡¯m too shocked to react immediately. I still have plenty of time to break the offensive appendage but the moment of hesitation gives someone else the opportunity to intervene.

    Alana catches his wrist, scowling deeply. ¡°Have you no shame, brute? You do not simply lay your hands on a lady.¡±

    Oh, be still my heart!

    ¡°And yet you can brazenly put your hands on a man?¡± Arthur questions with a wide smile.

    ¡°So far, I¡¯d call you an animal.¡±

    ¡°Heh. I like willful women too.¡±

    ¡°You!¡±

    I freeze as the tall bastard, moving far quicker than I expected, puts an arm around my friend¡¯s waist and pulls her toward him. She stops their bodies from colliding by putting a hand on his chest, scowling deeply.

    ¡°Arthur!¡± William shouts. ¡°This behavior is highly inappropriate!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be a virgin forever with that thinking, my friend!¡± Arthur says with a laugh. ¡°She isn¡¯t so fragile as to break, are you? Too much fight in you.¡± He licks his lips in a disgusting manner.

    ¡°Let go of me,¡± she bites out.

    ¡°Maybe if you tell me your name. You¡ª¡±

    I may have been frozen in shock at his brazen display but Alana¡¯s angry voice brings me back to my senses. This¡­this¡­overgrown, mangy, disgusting ape just grabbed Alana. My Alana. And she said no.

    His words are cut off by my fist hitting his jaw. I just manage to hold back my strength. That means instead of knocking his head clean off, he simply flies backward. The girls in the booth scream and scramble out the way as he hits the wall, splintering the wood before landing heavily on the table.

    The following silence is deafening as the restaurant comes to a halt; customers pause with food halfway to their mouths, servers stand stock still with steaming trays of food, and there are dropped jaws all around.

    I give the small droplets of blood on my hand a distasteful look and wipe them off on William before he has a chance to escape. ¡°Willie, on second thought, we really don¡¯t need a fifth member.¡±

    ¡°Ah, um¡­.¡± He turns to look at his friend and gulps nervously.

    ¡°Ladies? You agree with me, right?¡±

    Marthe chuckles. ¡°Nice punch, shiny.¡±

    ¡°Saints damn him,¡± Alana curses. ¡°Why am I surrounded by perverts?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re too cute.¡± I ignore the expected blow to my arm as I pull out my coin purse. I wave over one of the women escaping the booth. ¡°I apologize for creating such a scene.¡± The ape¡¯s lack of manners has nothing to do with them or the restaurant. ¡°Allow me to cover the dama¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rrrahhhhh!!¡±

    I pause as Arthur raises his head. Muttering curses, he climbs off the table. He¡¯s swaying but he¡¯s on his feet. A hand yanks off his shirt and wipes his bloody face before tossing aside the garment. ¡°That was a good punch. Physical caster?¡±

    ¡°Angry caster,¡± I sneer. If I thought he was distasteful before, having him bare a disgustingly hairy chest has lowered my opinion of him to that shared with worms and rats. Pestilence carrying ones that wash themselves in used chamber pots. My eyes have been polluted with something foul.

    ¡°Hah! Well, you won¡¯t get another surprise shot.¡± His eyes glow with channeled mana. ¡°So, I have to fight you to get your friend, huh? Or are you simply jealous? You should know I¡¯m more than man enough to handle two or three at a time, bwahaha!¡±

    ¡­why did I hold back?

    This bastard should just die.

    ¡°What in the saints¡¯ blessed asses is going out here?!¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-29

    I, along with the rest of the room, turn as a woman bursts from the kitchen. She¡¯s wearing dark pants and a sleeveless shirt. An apron is tied around her neck, the once pristine white stained in multiple places. Curly, light brown hair peppered with gray is tied up with a white cloth, a few strands falling into her face. Her high cheekbones and hawkish nose make her look like a bird of prey swooping down on us.

    That and the knife in her hand.

    Arthur¡¯s enthusiasm wilts, his eyes losing their glow and his excited smile turns into a sneer. ¡°What do you want, old woman?!¡± he roars. ¡°Can¡¯t you see we¡¯re busy? Take your saggy tits back to your kitchen.¡±

    ¡°You arrogant brat!¡±

    I weave out of the way of the flying knife. Arthur ducks, saving his face from being skewered as the blade buries itself in the wall hilt deep.

    That¡¯s an impressive throw.

    But it¡¯s only a feint. The real attack is a small ball of water that throws Arthur backward after splashing on his chest. He crashes into the table, shattering it.

    The woman stands over him, a disc of water spinning over her shoulder. ¡°You think I have to put up with your shit forever, you stupid balls for brains? I should do the world a favor and castrate you right now!¡±

    ¡°Jealous hag!¡± he sputters while sitting up. He¡¯s quite sturdy, isn¡¯t he? ¡°Don¡¯t think you can threaten me into sleeping with you!¡±

    ¡°Useless pig! That¡¯s it! I¡¯m carving you up and selling you off. At least you¡¯ll finally serve a purpose as monster chow. Especially that piece of shit crammed between your ears where a brain should be.¡±

    ¡°Fuck! A few decades without good dick can really make women crazy.¡±

    Alright, I¡¯ve had enough of this farce.

    ¡°Excuse me, miss?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    I put on my most charming smile as she turns to me. ¡°Hello. My name is Lou.¡±

    ¡°And? Speak up, girl.¡± She scowls. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re one of the punk¡¯s girlfriends. Should I cut out your useless brain too?¡±

    ¡°My brain is far from useless and in perfect working order.¡± His girlfriend? I think a little part of my soul just withered and died at the thought. ¡°So are my manners. A beautiful woman shouldn¡¯t dirty her hands with this trash. Allow me to handle this for you.¡±

    ¡°Huh. I¡¯ll be a whaleshark belly-up on the beach. Go on, then.¡± She gestures for me to ¡®get on with it¡¯.

    ¡°HEY! Don¡¯t ignore me¡ª¡±

    I take two quick steps in his direction and slam my heel against the side of his head. He drops like a bag of stones. I don¡¯t stop there, tenderizing him like a raw steak. At some point in the beating, he wakes up again, but I swiftly knock him out again with another blow.

    I stop once every inch of his body is covered in boot prints. I¡¯m loathed to touch him but I swallow my disgust, grabbing him by his unruly and disgustingly greasy hair before dragging him out of the restaurant. Erin gapes at me as I toss him outside the door, clear of the door. It wouldn¡¯t do to upset traffic.

    I re-enter the restaurant to stunned faces. I flash the room a friendly smile before making my way to my friends and the satisfied-looking owner.

    ¡°Hmph! You¡¯re not all talk,¡± the owner says. She flashes me a wicked smile but I take notice that she¡¯s still brandishing her knife. ¡°So? Are you going to order something or are you just taking up space?¡±

    ¡°¡­order something, I suppose.¡± The three girls in the booth hurry off and I claim a seat, smiling up at the boss. ¡°May I have a menu?¡±

    ¡°Do I look like a server?¡± she scoffs. She swings her glare around the rest of my group. William doesn¡¯t need anymore encouragement, hastily taking a seat across from me. Alana and Marthe are slower on the uptake but follow suit. My friend raises a brow when Marthe beats her taking a seat next to me and reluctantly settles next to William. ¡°Just wait for the food.¡±

    ¡°I guess we¡¯re getting the house special,¡± I mutter as the boss stalks off back to the kitchen. ¡°What does this place serve anyway?¡±

    ¡°Seafood,¡± William pipes up helpfully. ¡°Miss Ora¡¯Erana is from Graywatch. She¡­retired but uses her connections to have the freshest fish in the Grand Hall shipped in.¡±

    ¡°Retired from Graywatch?¡± Either she is very strong or very lucky. Everything I¡¯ve heard about the rumored fortress by the sea is that the murky waters may as well be the entrance to the Abyss for all the horrible monstrosities swimming in them.

    And if the monsters under the sea weren¡¯t enough, the area is ripe with pirates. The kingdom isn¡¯t going to risk knights chasing them out onto the sea in a bid for mutual destruction. The best they can do is keep them to the coast. Graywatch and its surroundings are a lawless, chaotic cesspool.

    May explain why the lady boss is so keen on carrying knives.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be worried,¡± William assures us. ¡°The food here is amazing. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be satisfied no matter what dish she brings out.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°As long as the shiny is paying.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± I ignore Marthe¡¯s smug smile as I lean over the table. ¡°But I think you need to be worried, Willie. What was that¡­animal you just tried to pass off as a teammate? Hm?¡±

    He has the good grace to wince. ¡°As I said, Arthur is a bit¡­abrasive.¡±

    ¡°Abrasive?¡± Alana says dryly. I scowl, remembering him putting his arm around her. My fingers twitch with the urge to strangle the life out of him. Maybe I was too lenient? ¡°He¡¯s a crude asshole who thinks he¡¯s far, far more charming than he is.¡±

    ¡°Yes, he, ah, gets ahead of himself when it comes to the fairer sex.¡± He pointedly ignores my glare at that gross understatement. ¡°However, his skills are real. And your¡­rejection of his behavior should be enough for him to get the message. I swear, he¡¯s a much better person than first impressions would suggest.¡±

    I don¡¯t much care if he¡¯s another future saint destined to save the whole kingdom. ¡°On the tiniest chance that we need five members to pass the qualifier, I¡¯m considering letting him on. As long as everyone accepts the very real chance that he¡¯s going to do something incredibly stupid and I¡¯m going to kill him.¡± What if, saints forbid, he had done something more than grab her?

    I would have really killed him. Taken his head off before I could think twice.

    ¡°My thanks¡ª¡±

    ¡°William.¡± I cut him off with a rare serious tone, one that garners everyone¡¯s attention and straightens his spine. ¡°I¡¯m serious. I¡¯ll really kill him.¡± This is not an empty threat or an exaggeration. If that grabby-handed mongrel does something like that again, he¡¯ll lose his life. ¡°You and he both need to understand that before you agree. It¡¯s truly life or death.¡±

    ¡°¡­I understand, Lady Tome. I¡¯m happy to agree and I¡¯m sure Arthur will be too. A beating is not enough to dissuade him.¡±

    That was more than a beating. I was careful not to break any bones, I think, but he¡¯ll be lucky if anything doesn¡¯t hurt in a few hours. Or a few days. Maybe a saintly passerby will take pity on the lump of meat and¡ª

    ¡°GAGGGGHHHHH!¡±

    I turn with the rest of the restaurant as the doors are thrown open. A bloody Arthur stands in the doorway like the newly risen dead. He spits out a bloody wad before stomping inside. Along the way, he snatches a free chair, dropping into it the wrong way beside our booth.

    He levels a big, meaty finger at me. ¡°I don¡¯t know how the hell you expect to find a husband, you vicious bitch.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you expect to live a long life, you imbecile. And I am happily married, thanks.¡±

    He scoffs. ¡°What fool¡¯s family did you buy off?¡±

    ¡°My wife is no fool and she certainly isn¡¯t with me because of the Tome family¡¯s secret treasury.¡± We¡¯ve managed to keep it secret for so long because it doesn¡¯t exist, ha.¡±

    ¡°Wife?¡± He turns toward Alana. She sneers. I bristle, fingers twitching with more urgency. ¡°That explains why you decked me. Heh. Maybe you married your wife for her money if you¡¯re already trying to hook a better-looking fish, heh.¡±

    Oh, how little you know. ¡°You know, I don¡¯t want to discuss my relationships with you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it doesn¡¯t matter. All I need to know is right here.¡± He points to his mangled face, grinning broadly. ¡°From the way you hit, you¡¯re more bear than girl. Will, you¡¯ve found a good team!¡±

    William winces. ¡°Arthur, at least have the grace to properly thank them.¡±

    ¡°Bah! They¡¯re lucky you brought them to me. I can handle all these guppies calling themselves initiates by myself.¡± He flexes his arms, kissing a bicep. I try not to gag as he ignored the blood and dirt covering him. I hear Alana mutter ¡°Pig,¡± under her breath. ¡°You can thank me by surrendering your bodies for a night. Though that¡¯s more of a treat for you than me, hah!¡±

    There are¡­so many things wrong with what he just said. So many things.

    I change my mind.

    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± I look over at Alana who shakes her head. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. You¡¯re right that we might need a fifth to pass the qualifier. I¡¯ll ask around but we shouldn¡¯t get rid of him until we have someone confirmed to take his place.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I¡¯d like to see who¡¯ll replace me. I¡¯ll challenge the fool and bury him.¡±

    ¡°What does it matter if he¡¯s a dog?¡± Marthe says with one of her usual scoffs. ¡°We only have to see each other for a few days to complete the quest. Unless the shiny can¡¯t stand the lowly commoner offending her shininess.¡±

    ¡°I swear to the saints, if you keep using that stupid insult, I¡¯m throwing you out next,¡± I growl. Come on! It doesn¡¯t even make sense!

    ¡°Lou, I don¡¯t want to have to go searching for two teammates.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think she¡¯d win?¡±

    Alana gives her a look before shaking her head. ¡°Things would be so much simpler if she was as incompetent as she comes off as.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± That kind of stung.

    With perfect timing, a girl dressed as someone¡¯s dirty reimagining of a farmer¡¯s daughter skips over to the booth carrying a large platter. ¡°Shrimp¡¯s up! Boss says the bites are free for taking out the trash.¡±

    Her cheerful personality disappears as she looks at Arthur. ¡°Not for you. Wash up, would you? If you drive any customers, you¡¯ll be paying for them.¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± Arthur rises from his chair with low grumbles. A stray hand reaches for the girl¡¯s behind but she expertly twists out of the way, her glare scathing. The pig is completely unbothered, chuckling to himself as he walks off.

    I grab a shrimp off the tray and eagerly pop it into my mouth. Summer Spire is pretty far from the coasts and there aren¡¯t many ways to move fish without it going bad. Seafood is incredibly rare and even more expensive. A rare treat.

    I doubt Marthe appreciates or cares about the incredible journey her food must have taken to get to her as she shovels the shrimp down. William eats more sedately while Alana is abstaining. I raise a brow but she shakes her head. Not a fan, I suppose. I¡¯ll have to make note of that.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    I look up at the farm girl, who¡¯s giving us a skeptical look. ¡°Are you really going to team up with Arthur for the Hall¡¯s test?¡±

    I swallow before answering. ¡°¡­it appears so. Reluctantly.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Well, you should watch your skirts. He¡¯s a dog.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± I say dryly.

    ¡°Uh-huh, but he¡¯s strong. His father crewed with the boss during her fishing days. That lot are all animals so I¡¯m not surprised. We all cleaned up our acts once we left the gray but he still acts like he¡¯s stepping onto shore after five months on the water, the brat.¡±

    I don¡¯t get it. ¡°He¡¯s the son of a¡­fisherman?¡±

    The young woman smiles at me, though it feels more mocking than friendly. I turn to William as he clears his throat. ¡°Lady Tome, I¡¯m sure you know the situation in Graywatch. It is polite for those with¡­ambiguous roles on the water to simply refer to themselves as fisherman in casual conversation.¡±

    Ah. He¡¯s the son of a pirate. Or maybe a smuggler. ¡°I see.¡± Explains¡­him, I suppose. Though nothing can excuse such an atrocious lack of manners.

    ¡°Anyway, I just thought I¡¯d give fair warning. You look like you can handle yourselves.¡± She quickly glances at the wall. ¡°Will, you keep an eye on him. If that mutt starts another issue, Boss is definitely going to feed him to the fish.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to.¡±

    ¡°Great. Your meals will be out in a jiff.¡± Her bright smile is back in place as she hurries off to another table.

    Hm. So, our team is comprised of a firebrand who hates nobles, a godling who is also a noble, a future saint who is a noble bastard, a wet noodle competing with his family to become a noble, and a pig son of a pirate or other.

    Haha, what can go wrong?

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-30

    ¡°So, let me get this.¡±

    I try not to flinch as the pig points a breaded piece of fish at me, flinging sauce. ¡°You¡¯re married to this supposedly hot, rich, elf princess who bought you one of the Hall¡¯s estates, pays for your time at the Hall, and she lets you sleep with other women whenever you want?¡±

    ¡°There are several points in that statement that I would argue with and are flat-out wrong but¡­basically.¡± I¡¯m not going to stress the mongrel¡¯s shit for brains asking him to think.

    ¡°What in the deep sea do you have that I don¡¯t?!¡± Arthur roars, munching on his fish.

    ¡°Manners,¡± I say with clear disgust as he spews crumbs. ¡°Proper hygiene. Good looks. Intelligence. Skill. Breasts. I can honestly go on for another hour.¡±

    ¡°And she¡¯s your mistress?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s a mistress?!¡± Alana barks, looking up from her plate, slamming her fork on the table before pointing it at Arthur. ¡°Stop saying nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Is this madness true?¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Like she said, basically. Don¡¯t ask me to explain it, I don¡¯t understand their relationship either.¡±

    ¡°What is so hard to understand?¡± I gripe. I guess it can be hard to understand when they don¡¯t have all the information but why are they making such a fuss about this? Especially Arthur. He¡¯s looking at me as if I¡¯m telling him the sun rises from the south and the moon is just the sun putting on silver pajamas. This bastard is just trying to insult me, isn¡¯t he? I need to get out of here.

    Like a resurrected saint come to save the sinners, Geneva enters the door, tail swinging behind her. Arthur, being the dog that he is, has his attention immediately stolen, his eyes undressing her as she stops beside the table. ¡°Lou, you¡¯re going to be late for your meeting.¡±

    You glorious succubus, you. ¡°Ah, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Who or what is this?¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you. I am Lou¡¯s contracted thrall, Geo.¡± She bows toward him, raising her head with a demure smile.

    He¡¯s a goner. I think he might actually be drooling. Or maybe that fuzz under his chin is wet from his sloppy eating.

    I need to get out of here before this animal tries humping her leg.

    ¡°Well, team, you heard her. Time for me to go.¡± I take out my coin purse and stack enough coins to pay for the impromptu lunch on the table. ¡°It¡¯s been a blast. Look forward to seeing you at the test.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, girlie.¡± Arthur stands from his chair, staring down at Geneva. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s used to people being intimidated by his height and shying away. My succubus, far too used to wrapping people around her dainty little fingers, does the opposite, meeting his gaze with her beautiful pink irises open wide. Her pretty eyes looking past the dirt and scruff to see the person under the beastly exterior.

    Arthur¡¯s broad shoulders sag as his gaze sharpens. ¡°A thrall. I¡¯ve heard of succubi before. Sex devils that corrupt men¡¯s morals. Suck the¡­life out of them, heh.¡±

    Geneva blushes or at least gives the illusion of it. Her ash-colored skin doesn¡¯t show it well. ¡°My people have a reputation that proceeds us but this isn¡¯t the place for that kind of conversation.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s always the time for that kind of conversation.¡± He does that disgusting thing where he licks his lips and Geneva curls in on herself like a rabbit in front of a wolf. That only seems to excite him. Saints, it hurts to watch.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Elemewhatevers, I¡¯ve heard of summoners. She¡¯s part of your strength, right? That means she¡¯s part of the team.¡± He moves closer, close enough for any woman to be uncomfortable. ¡°We should¡­get to know one another better.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s necessary,¡± I say sharply. ¡°We only need to work competently for one day. No need to exchange back stories.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my summoner, but a simple demonstration of abilities and discussion of strategy would prove immensely helpful.¡±

    I stare at the traitor but she doesn¡¯t meet my gaze. I know you can imagine the disaster that would be Arthur meeting Kierra. What if he tries the same crap as he did with Alana? What if she eggs him on? I¡¯ll really kill him. I¡¯ll take his head clean off his shoulders with a single strike.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    I turn to Alana, feeling a surge of hope at her sympathetic smile. She¡¯s the only other person here who understands what I¡¯m thinking and why this is such a terrible idea. Come on, my friend. Save us all from a tragedy waiting to happen.

    ¡°We are going to be working together. That demands at least one day of practice, no matter how distasteful the thought may be.¡±

    I sigh deeply as Arthur grins. Saints damn it, Alana. ¡°We can rent some area in Quest¡ª¡±

    ¡°On the chance there may be an¡­argument, do you want to have it in a populated area? I think it would be best to have this training at your home, seeing as the rest of us live in rooms.¡±

    And so, she declares my execution, wearing a mask of concern. Truly, if my team were composed of anyone else, people who I could trust to behave themselves, I wouldn¡¯t think twice about this. That is what has me debating. Should I listen to my gut and vehemently deny this? Or should I listen to my upbringing telling me to do the polite thing and open my home?

    ¡°Think of it as another favor.¡±

    ¡°Damn it to the Abyss, Alana!¡± I swear. The vixen has the audacity to grin at me yet I¡¯m more annoyed than angry.

    I think I have to accept it. I¡¯m a glutton for punishment. No one else in my position would let women, even the women they love, take so many liberties. I¡¯m not even sleeping with her!

    At least she can look sheepish as I continue to glare at her. Good. I may do a wonderful impersonation of a doormat but I better get something back for all these promises. ¡°Sure, team,¡± I hiss through grit teeth. ¡°I¡¯d love to have you guys over. Tomorrow morning, after breakfast. Give me a chance to straighten the place up.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your hospitality,¡± William says carefully, no doubt sensing my trepidation.

    ¡°Hmph,¡± Marthe says.

    Arthur just continues to ogle my succubus.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± I continue, feeling as if the words are cutting my throat with every syllable. ¡°We¡¯ll be working together so we should make efforts to get along. Now, I really do need to get going. Wife¡¯s expecting me. Don¡¯t have too much fun without me.¡±

    I chuckle hollowly as I grab Geneva¡¯s shoulders with a little too much force and practically march her out the door, waving to Erin. Down the street and out of the eyes of anyone who can recognize me, I release Geneva. The succubus shrugs off her demure veneer, straightening her spine and marching down the sidewalk with her tail swinging. ¡°You seem pleased with yourself.¡±

    ¡°Do I?¡± the little devil says with a smile. ¡°Perhaps because I am doing my summoner a great service.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really? You¡¯re doing me a service?¡±

    ¡°I am. I worry for you, Lou. You are surrounded by very strong personalities¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hoh, really? Didn¡¯t notice that.¡±

    ¡°Strong personalities that all have designs on your life and power.¡± Noooo, really? ¡°And while you seem to deal with the devious side of people remarkably well, perhaps even thrive in what others might consider a toxic environment, it would do you good to interact with your peers more.¡±

    ¡°What are you, my mother?¡±

    ¡°Do you want to call me mommy, Lou?¡±

    I almost miss a step. ¡°You are evil.¡±

    She grins at me over her shoulder.

    ¡°Are you going to tell me the reason you¡¯re doing this?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t have you becoming too cynical, my summoner. How will I twist you around my fingers? No, best to marinate you in the young naivete of your little sun and the harmless puppies that make up your team.¡±

    ¡°Haha, that sounds more like my scheming succubus.¡± It might even contain a kernel of truth. If I only spend time with her and Kierra, I suppose I could become as devious as them and their schemes wouldn¡¯t be nearly as effective. Saints, despite my meagre experience with succubi, I think I¡¯ve managed to fend her off fairly well.

    I won¡¯t delude myself into thinking that she¡¯s as loyal to me as she appears. She wants to use me for her own ends, goals I can¡¯t even imagine. If the usual temptation doesn¡¯t work, she can only resort to creative measures like forcing me to make friends who can compromise my judgment, I suppose.

    I jog forward and loop our arms together. ¡°Well, good luck with that.¡± It isn¡¯t going to work. The worse that¡¯s going to happen is that the kingdom issues an order of arrest after I kill Arthur. Or maybe that¡¯s her plan? Using the stress of making me a fugitive to compromise me? I wouldn¡¯t put it past her.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t lived as long as I have depending on luck, my summoner.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-31

    I step out of my carriage with a deep sigh, feeling more tired than any day throughout my short time as an initiate. The weight of dread is heavier than the usual exhaustion after Kierra¡¯s ¡®love¡¯. I anticipate a shitstorm of epic proportions and perhaps an equivalent amount of bloodshed.

    There is a good chance I¡¯m going to kill Arthur and killing him means I might have to kill William when he comes to the pig¡¯s defense. Then maybe I¡¯ll need to silence Marthe as a witness.

    Alana I wouldn¡¯t kill. I¡¯ll kidnap her. Probably will have to gag her to muffle the thousands of curses that¡¯ll flow from her mouth and bind her hands to keep them away from any pointy instruments. Not sure if it¡¯ll make things easier or harder for me to smuggle her out of the kingdom when I run from my arrest order.

    The thought makes me smile.

    I don¡¯t look at the reasons why too hard.

    Geneva turns the carriage around as I walk toward the door. At the top step, the door is thrown open by my lovely wife.

    I pause, eyeing her from head to toe. In a reversal from her usual style, she¡¯s wearing a dress, a spotless white one that billows with the slight breeze. She smiles brightly, turning my violent maniac into a warm, inviting beauty. Even her long ears look adorable. Normally, they only contribute to her predatory visage.

    ¡°Hello, my love,¡± she says, voice practically dripping honey.

    I leap toward her, examining her face closely and putting a hand to her forehead. ¡°Kii, are you alright? Are you dying? Don¡¯t worry. Between Geneva and Bell, we can figure something out.¡±

    She pulls my hand down with a chuckle, kissing my fingertips. ¡°I¡¯m alright. Come. You¡¯ve had a long day, hm? Sit down with me.¡±

    She pulls me into the house, shutting the door behind me. She guides me into our living room. Two large vases are placed at either end of the couch with several bouquets arranged on the table.

    The air is heavy with floral scents. Nothing overpowering. Beneath it, I can smell what I¡¯m pretty sure is dinner in the oven. Is my wife cooking? The most cooking she¡¯s done since coming to the house is cutting fruit and arranging platters. Maybe she¡¯ll put together a sandwich every now and again. Geneva has decisively taken over the kitchen.

    ¡°Is something going on?¡± I ask, as she sits me down on the couch.

    ¡°What makes you think something is wrong?¡±

    ¡°That a joke? It looks like Gajin threw up in here. Or the garden initiated a hostile takeover.¡±

    ¡°Nothing like that.¡± She sits down beside me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and putting her shapely legs over my thighs. Her silver hair brushes my cheek as she lays against me. ¡°You know he¡¯s been making cuttings. These flowers are known for their relaxing effect and the ability to soothe nerves. He had extra so I asked him to place a few around the house.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°¡­is there a particular reason you¡¯re putting out flowers that are meant to relax me?¡±

    ¡°For you to relax. Which you are not doing.¡± Her hand trails over my chest.

    ¡°That¡¯s supposed to get me to relax?¡±

    The offending hand retreats. ¡°Tell me about your day. Did you manage to find a team? Or are you going to supplement your lack of connections with your peers with the pets?¡±

    ¡°You know about the qualifiers?¡±

    ¡°I am an instructor. I don¡¯t know what objectives they will use but the basics were shared.¡±

    ¡°Well, you know we need a team of five. Wait. Do you think I couldn¡¯t find a group of people to join my team?¡±

    ¡°Sure, dedia. You have Alana. As for the other three¡­I¡¯m sure you could convince the young, spineless casters to bow to your will for a few days.¡±

    ¡°Or¡­I could make friends?¡±

    She raises her head and smiles at me. ¡°Of course you can.¡±

    Why the hell don¡¯t I believe you? What do you take me for? I can get along with people. ¡°I have a team. A full team of five, not counting my elementals.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You might know one. Marthe? One of Alana¡¯s friends. The one who hates nobles.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Don¡¯t remember. She sounds like fun.¡±

    ¡°Oh, just a barrel of laughs. Besides her, we snagged a lovely gentleman by the name of William. Polite, soft-spoken, seems dependable enough. Respectful and ambitious, but not the ugly kind of ambition. I like him.¡±

    ¡°Not too much, I hope.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t even joke about that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d never. Then? Why did he join your team?¡±

    ¡°I made him an offer he couldn¡¯t refuse. Wowed him with my ability and drew him in with my stunning personality.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°And the real reason?¡±

    ¡°You¡­this is supposed to be relaxing me?¡± I feel the softness of her lips as she kisses my neck and melt. ¡°Well, uh, the other initiates may have avoided him because his brothers want to kill him so there¡¯s one less body trying to inherit their father¡¯s fortune.¡±

    ¡°Pfffthahaha!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It¡¯s just that most of the initiates had already formed teams before I got there. It was slim pickings.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. And your fifth?¡±

    ¡°Ah. We found a dog.¡±

    ¡°A¡­dog?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It walks and it talks. Good enough to fool the instructors, I think. Have to keep it away from women. Horny thing has no self-control and tries to hump every leg that it sees. It needs to get it fixed before I bring it around civilized people.¡±

    ¡°Sounds¡­interesting.¡±

    ¡°I guess. In the way cutting a worm in half and watching its separate parts squirm is interesting. They¡¯ll be coming tomorrow for a training session if you want to meet them. I don¡¯t recommend it though.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Mm. We¡¯ll probably have to flee the continent.¡±

    ¡°If that is your way of trying to convince me not to¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing a terrible job, I know. Now.¡± I turn toward her, slouching down so our eyes are level. Our noses are almost touching. ¡°Are you going to tell me what¡¯s going on? What you¡¯re doing all of this for?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t I do anything nice for you?¡±

    ¡°You do nice things for me all the time. Especially at night.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± I meet her as she leans forward, eyes slipping shut as I enjoy her kiss. Her hand gently cups my cheek, the exact opposite of her usual Lou-handling. She keeps it chaste and soft, pulling away with a soft sigh and a fluttering of her eyelashes.

    I¡¯m seriously concerned.

    ¡°If you keep this up, my stomach is going to twist itself into a knot,¡± I whisper to her with a tense smile.

    ¡°All of my efforts, down the drain.¡± With a blink, she rises from the couch and stalks away, once again a predator. I relax. Whew. For a minute there, I was really worried.

    She comes back carrying three letters, a bottle of Herbanacle, and two glasses. She tosses the letters on the table. I notice they¡¯re open but she grabs my attention by cracking open the bottle and pouring generous amounts of liquor for the both of us.

    ¡°Those arrived for you today. I suggest you read them while lubricated.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-32

    Greetings and well wishes, Lady Tome.

    I hope your initiate year has proved fruitful and have full confidence that you will pass the ensuing qualifiers. I, and the kingdom, greatly anticipate what you will contribute as a summoner, a caster, and an esteemed noble.

    It is a little crass to go into my personal affairs but I must in order to get to the reason for this correspondence.

    I have been given the honor to serve as an advisor to the king after the recent events surrounding Gordon Senior. A boon for my house and the kingdom, if I may shamelessly brag. I hope to lead Harvest in a new direction, against some of the backward traditions installed and propagated by the old nobility. To create a kingdom where one¡¯s vision matters more than one¡¯s father.

    My new position affords me greater access to the kingdom¡¯s matters and a specific matter has caught my attention. The king is preparing a new decree. One that will make the summoning and contracting of certain races illegal throughout the entirety of the kingdom.

    One of these races will be succubi. Given that you have contracted two and have close ties to the Grimoire family, this decree is sure to affect you strongly.

    My new position is too fragile for me to exact any influence on this decision. Truly, if I¡¯d spent the last ten years as an advisor, I doubt I could influence this decision. The actions of Gordon Grimoire Sr. and the Grimoire family have rattled the crown. I would go so far as to say that the entirety of Burning Earth terrifies the noble families who have lived under their seductive and tyrannical rule for generations.

    Another circumstance that ties my hand is that the party spearheading this hunt are my own compatriots who share many goals with me. While we disagree on this action, we must remain united. I do not have the clout to turn the carriage around, so to speak.

    Knowing your capabilities, I will not attempt to hide anything from you. I am actively helping in this agenda, to give my party more power. The eradication of the succubi from this realm will be quite the coup and will be the platform from which we build a better Harvest.

    However, we have left plenty of avenues for people of consequence, such as yourself, to use to maneuver around this decree. I have heard many whispers of those willing to ¡®shelter¡¯ the Grimoire family, and yourself by extension. One of which would be working for the crown, though I do not think that would appeal to you much.

    There exists another option. The laws regarding the treatment of foreign officials are old and haven¡¯t been used in centuries, but they are ironclad. Diplomats of foreign governments, especially foreign royalty, are not subject to many restrictions. They certainly cannot be detained. Neither can members of their family, including their spouses.

    I highly recommend this course of action. Not only would it allow you to disregard this decree, the authority of a diplomat would provide many opportunities, bringing prosperity for both your family and the kingdom at large. The world has been divided for an age. We are in a position to change that.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    If you require any advice on how to continue forward, my daughter Maxine is well-studied in kingdom law. Another of my children will be arriving at the Grand Hall soon and will also avail herself to you.

    My primary concern is for your well-being, but we can also do great things together. I look forward to your decision.

    Sincerely, Marquis Maxamillius Guiness.

    I toss away the letter and grab my glass of Herbanacle, sipping on it while I contemplate the words of our sponsor. ¡°How much do you want to bet that he spearheaded this whole decree to diplomatically force us into helping him build ties on the elven continent?¡± After all, I can call myself a diplomat all I want but if there is no communication between Harvest and Violet Dusk Province, it¡¯s an empty title.

    ¡°You are so suspicious,¡± Kierra says with a smile. An approving one.

    ¡°That¡¯s because people are nothing but snakes in flesh suits.¡± I don¡¯t trust the marquis¡¯ good intentions. If he really cared, why didn¡¯t I get this letter the moment this decree was discussed? If it¡¯s coming from his party or group, he should have known months ago.

    I guarantee if he was elected as an advisor, he has been a member of this cabal for months, perhaps years while garnering their favor. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised to know that this has been cooking for over a year and our good marquis was in the thick of it.

    ¡°So? Are you going to use his idea?¡±

    ¡°Do I want to peacock amongst the socialites as the face of the elven nation? Introduce your mother to the king and almost certainly start a war? Because there is no way she¡¯s not going to kill them for their games. She wanted to kill me for the hell of it. Maybe you too.¡±

    ¡°The reason we have not fought each other at our full strength is because she rather not kill me. Nor I her,¡± my wife reminds me.

    ¡°Unfortunately, she¡¯s not related to any member of Harvest nobility,¡± I scoff, downing my glass and refilling it. ¡°I don¡¯t like being someone¡¯s puppet. Saints damn it, we were planning on visiting your mother soon and maybe working something out.¡± See if I give a damn now!

    ¡°You cannot be surprised by his greed. He is the wealthiest man in the kingdom. One doesn¡¯t become that by checking their ambition.¡±

    ¡°One also doesn¡¯t become that by poking sleeping dragons.¡±

    ¡°Then it is too bad that you insist on posing as an exotic lizard as opposed to a monarch of the sky.¡±

    I scowl at her, which she ignores while taking another drink. ¡°Well, let me go burn a few towns. That¡¯ll bury this decree.¡±

    ¡°It could.¡±

    ¡°Not everything needs to be solved with violence, you deviant.¡±

    ¡°There are few problems a sword can¡¯t solved, dedia.¡±

    ¡°Few, but they exist.¡± I huff. ¡°You do have a point though.¡± Should I get angry at a dog for barking? A cat for being a cold bastard? A person for scheming for their benefit? All are creatures doing what comes natural to them.

    ¡°While I am upset with the marquis, he isn¡¯t my servant, my friend, and barely qualifies as an ally. His investment in us doesn¡¯t mean he stops working other ventures. He owes us nothing and so far, I don¡¯t think he is targeting us.¡±

    ¡°Then you forgive him?¡±

    ¡°Of course not! Saints damn him to the abyss, if I find out that he had anything to do with this stupid decree, I¡¯m going to light the Guiness Company on fire!¡± I swallow the rest of my glass and pour more Herbanacle, filling my glass to the top before taking another large gulp. ¡°If he thinks I¡¯m going to be scared into running to my mother-in-law for help, he''s got another thing coming. Fuck! Are the others as bad as this?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Maybe. Depends how you see them.¡±

    ¡°That was a very vague yes.¡± I grab the next letter while gulping down my drink.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-33

    Hey boss.

    This is your unwilling minion writing you. I wonder if you¡¯ve forgotten about me, seeing as you haven¡¯t bothered to contact me after your tyrannical takeover of my house. My feelings aren¡¯t hurt. I¡¯d be happy if you never darkened my doorstep again. Or summoned me to random places in the middle of the night. Or levy unreasonable demands against me and my whole family.

    Fen has just reminded me that I need to stay on topic.

    In case you haven¡¯t heard, which I highly doubt, the king is preparing a new decree. One that will ban the existence of our partners. Obviously, this would be very bad for both of us.

    To be frank, I blame you. The Grimoires practically ran the kingdom. My father could walk sideways through Summer Spire and no one would dare look him in the eye. The king had to listen to what he had to say. We had respect, wealth, and power.

    Then my father meets you. Lou the slacker. Quiet, bitter, Lou who always watched me with grit teeth, so aware of her mortality but unable to set down that colossal Tome pride. Unremarkable Lou who should have been nothing but a footnote in the steady decline of your family. But no. Somehow, defying all expectations and common sense, my father leaves his meeting with you a madman and you have control over the succubi.

    Don¡¯t think I¡¯m an idiot. We have been parleying with Burning Earth for generations. You have those idiots in the palace mesmerized with the mysteries of summoning or whatever other nonsense but you and I both know there¡¯s only one way you could have beaten my father with his circle five virtue and taken over my family. Somehow, someway, you contracted a stronger succbus.

    I wonder. Is it that circle three thrall on the verge of becoming a virtue, making her significantly stronger than a thrall should be, that no member of the Grimoire family has ever seen? Or maybe it¡¯s that little imp that¡¯s never been seen before? Seeing that they are a famed race of shapeshifters, you couldn¡¯t have thought that everyone would be fooled into taking them at face value.

    What do you do with what has to be the strongest succubus ever summoned? You run off to play in the Grand Hall. You could have done anything. Probably made yourself queen with enough time, but no. No! Instead, you level a bunch of irrational demands on me.

    Fen has made sure I followed them perfectly, despite my many reasonable objections. As a new family head, I should be consolidating my power, perhaps reminding the nobles of Summer Spire why they feared the Grimoire name. Instead, I have been using the considerable resources at my disposal, and ultimately your disposal, to purchase summoning records.

    Enough gold to buy a city and you use it to buy up crumbling journals. You know as well as I do that half of all records are complete garbage. Another fourth are idiots bragging about luring phage lords into their circles but have never formed a contract. Most of what remains, we already have that information in our libraries.

    Worse, you want to piece together their life stories. Which is only possible by summoning the elementals they summoned and hoping those beings can remember the ants that snatched away a few minutes in their near infinite lives.

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    Is it any wonder that I can¡¯t pull my family together? You may control the succubi but they can¡¯t function in society. You need people for that, people you¡¯ve made no effort to bring to our side. So, they hate us. Or they hate me. They are actively working against me. While they may not be able to depose me, they can certainly provide opportunities for rivals and enemies to get ahead.

    Nobles who used to quake when my father entered the room now openly sneer at us. Not just because we haven¡¯t been making moves in the political circles, but because of your inane decree not to, as you put it, misuse the mental affinity against the innocent.

    You know like I know that there¡¯s no one innocent amongst nobility. Secrets are bad, yes, but no one double crosses you when they know you¡¯re willing to reach inside their head and turn it inside out. Well, now they know that we won¡¯t do that and they¡¯re walking all over us. Getting their payback.

    Those that aren¡¯t strutting on the grave of our reputation are still nipping at our heels. We¡¯re acting so irrationally, it¡¯s making them nervous. They think we¡¯re using our meek fa?ade to plot the fall of Harvest or something equally heinous. They want to destroy us to make sure we never reach our previous heights. Everyone else wants to destroy us just because we¡¯ve been bastards for years. And you¡¯ve tied my hands.

    I bet you¡¯re grinding your teeth in anger at my rant but I don¡¯t care. Apparently, we¡¯re all going to be executed soon. Unless you get off your ass, boss, and show me what you can do. I know you have a mean side. A mean, petty, sadistic, depraved side. We need the bitch, not the bum.

    Or let me put aside some gold for my funeral. And for the love of the saints, let me be buried as a Grimoire. I won¡¯t be able rest for eternity if my gravestone says Mason. Embarrass every other member of my family but you owe me that much for making me a slave.

    Eagerly waiting for a response, boss.

    -

    Lou, this is your Fen.

    No one has seen this paper, not even Junior as I write it beside him. I apologize for the tone of his letter but he needed the release. The atmosphere in Summer Spire is quite tense. It feels as if there are a hundred swords pointed at us from the dark and the Masons are not taking well to being ostracized. It is nothing my fellows cannot handle but as they insist on defying the change of leadership, there is no need to soothe their silly fears and fragile egos.

    Despite what Junior thinks, we have the situation well-in-hand. This decree, while ambitious, is without fangs. There is no way the crown can enforce it. The king will not send an army against us. With the full might of the crown, he may drive us out of the city, which we have planned for. I have diligently followed your true instructions to move the Grimoire wealth out of the capital. We are ready to move at any moment.

    Which brings me to why I have written this letter. This decree is far too sloppy to be meant as a countermeasure against the Grimoire family and Burning Earth. There have been no other measures taken and no one investigating our agents.

    My theory is that the crown is targeting another group, another elemental listed in the decree, and using succubi as camouflage. I have included the list of the elementals and planes to be banned. It doesn¡¯t help us out of our predicament as there are plenty willing to take advantage of the opportunity.

    I am searching for the true target. In the meantime, how carefully shall I shield Junior and the rest of these fools? We are encouraging them to expand their repertoire as summoners but they amount to very little. Not worth the resources it would take to protect them if you ask me, but I suppose they might still make an investment for the future.

    I wonder, will you be coming back to deal with this yourself? I admit, I am excited to see you again. Poor me, working diligently for you but left alone for so long. If I were a wife, who could fault me for moving on from such a neglectful spouse? But there is no moving on from you, my summoner. Poor me.

    I await your direction.

    Ever loyal, Fen.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-34

    Cosmo bless that thrall. Junior was right. Reading his letter makes me want to sprint to Summer Spire and bludgeon him over the head with a gravestone inscribed with ¡°Here lies Gordon Mason, proud reclaimer of the Mason name and complete ass¡±.

    For someone describing himself as my minion, he is unhelpful to the extreme. You could have burned your letter after writing it and that could have been your release. He wanted me to read it and get angry. Angry enough to act? Even if he has good intentions, he should remember his place.

    On the contrary, Fen is proving herself quite capable. I suppose it can¡¯t be helped that Junior thinks little of me when I didn¡¯t see fit to include him in my plans. Though he deserves to be slapped for questioning my gathering of summoning records.

    We are summoners, not casters. First and foremost, our proficiency with our craft is determined by our knowledge, not by how much mana we can throw at it, though a large coefficient is always beneficial. The day I stop trying to expand that knowledge is the day I change my name to Lourianne Tailor and give it all up.

    He seems to think that I am blowing away the family fortune, but the amount spent on journals and investigating old summoners is negligible. Or at least the ones he¡¯s aware of.

    No, most of the money is being spent by the succubi, my true minions, as they investigate my origins.

    Cosmo is a god, but he is also an elemental. I want to know what kind. I want to know where from. Crowley Cain, the imbecile who summoned him, simply put in a coefficient >5000 with the celestial affinity and hoped for the best. I¡¯m not foolish enough to think my adoptive father is the only creature throughout the realms to fit that description and the next god summoned amongst mortals may not be as benevolent.

    And for that matter¡­neither may Cosmo.

    I¡¯m no fool. My rebirth was nothing but a flight of fancy, a whim. His next whim may be to erase Harvest. Or me. Or the world.

    No, I can¡¯t risk summoning him, no matter how gloriously glossy he may be or how powerful I''ve become. But perhaps I can handle an intermediary. Something weaker from his realm he can send to speak on his behalf. So I can say hello. Say thank you. Ask about this body whose mysteries I¡¯ve barely begun to delve.

    For that to happen, I need information and that information is worth more than all of those Grimoire bastards combined.

    Better yet, it moves the Grimoire fortune out of the capital. I¡¯m no fool. If thralls stop mind-controlling the nobles and threatening to rearrange people¡¯s memories, they¡¯re going to strike back. Both for the future and the past. I painted a target on Junior¡¯s back and don¡¯t feel a tiny bit of guilt about it. It¡¯s that family¡¯s just desserts.

    It may hurt in the beginning but it can¡¯t be helped. Unlike those disrespectful fools, I care more about the art than what I can gain from it. Summoning has been on the decline for generations, a situation that suited them just fine. They wanted to control it. Who can use it and for why.

    I want to change that. I¡¯m going to change that. And the first step is to rebuild summoning¡¯s reputation. To show that summoners are more than a bunch of lustful, depraved old men using the mental affinity to keep harems of young girls in their basements.

    He wants me to use the succubi to instill fear? He should read some of those records I¡¯m amassing. There are far worse things than the inhabitants of Burning Earth. Creatures that could turn the world upside down. Rip it inside out. Living nightmares that make dubious use of the mental affinity look like a cheap party trick.

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    However, one of the first things a summoner must learn is responsibility. We are responsible for every creature we bring into the world, its actions, and the consequences of those actions. As well as the consequences of those consequences.

    Refusing to take reckless action doesn¡¯t make me a coward. Caution is ingrained in my bones. I need to know more. Fen thinks that this decree has nothing to do with me or the succubi. I assumed it did after being ambushed during my interview. Perhaps my family¡¯s long vendetta against Junior¡¯s family made it easy to believe someone else would target them.

    ¡°If you¡¯ve finished,¡± Kierra says, drawing my attention, ¡°then I would like you to explain the list to me. I recognize none of the beings on it.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± I set down the two letters and pick up the much smaller folded note that fell out of the envelope. My eyes bulge while reading the names. ¡°Haha, there are some crazy bastards out there. There are still people contracting these things?¡± I wave for Kii to move closer.

    ¡°Alright. First on the list is the golden hen from Adamant Fire Realm. Hehe, you¡¯re going to love this. Damn bird shits gold.¡±

    My wife laughs. ¡°You cannot be serious.¡±

    ¡°Very. This thing? It eats ore alongside its grain. Common metals, even the slag. Stuff they sell by the wagonload for copper. Somehow, the thing does what it does and lays its eggs, like every other hen. Except the shell of its eggs? Gold.¡±

    ¡°That is hardly shitting gold.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but it sounds better than the long explanation. Made you laugh.¡± I smile as she chuckles. ¡°Can¡¯t believe anyone has summoned this thing.¡±

    ¡°I am rather surprised everyone hasn¡¯t attempted to summon such a creature. It is instant wealth.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem. Instant wealth. No one keeps a golden hen for long. No one. The thing is a living gold mine. However, competitors can¡¯t steal an actual gold mine. They can, however, take a slightly bigger than average chicken. If it isn¡¯t taken away by their competitors, then the crown kicks down their door. The summoners don¡¯t tend to survive in the meantime. It¡¯s a bad omen. Then of course there¡¯s the problem with the gold.¡±

    I snicker. ¡°See, the gold isn¡¯t real gold by this realm¡¯s standards, but it¡¯s darn close. Close enough to fool anyone but a well-practiced earth caster. Problem with peckled gold, as its fondly called amongst summoners, is that it¡¯s a bit¡­explosive.¡±

    My wife blinks in incredulity. ¡°Explosive?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah.¡±

    ¡°How can gold be explosive?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the joy of summoning,¡± I say with a sigh. ¡°Each realm is full of horrors and wonders. Peckled gold is a bit of both. See, the usual things don¡¯t make it explode. Liquid does. Any kind.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s horrible.¡± She says that but she¡¯s laughing.

    ¡°It was a big problem. Some noble lady spills her wine on her ring and her hand gets blown off. A merchant gets caught in the rain wearing a nice necklace and gets decapitated. The whole summoning community cracked down on golden hens and most of the records were destroyed. Still took years and many more accidents to get all the peckled gold out of circulation.¡±

    ¡°I want to believe you¡¯re playing with me but I know when you¡¯re lying.¡±

    ¡°No you don¡¯t. I¡¯m an excellent liar.¡±

    She gives me a look as she tilts the paper. ¡°Red-plum viper?¡±

    ¡°That one¡¯s pretty boring. It¡¯s just a snake with some nasty venom.¡±

    ¡°That bird could bring down the kingdom. Surely, this must be more than a snake.¡±

    ¡°Nope. Just a snake. The venom is pretty nasty. One drop can kill a grown man in seconds. Faster than any healer can build a spell. Maybe not faster than you because of your pure affinity but as I¡¯m sure you know, those don¡¯t appear amongst humans. Favorite of the assassin-types.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound bad.¡±

    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be if there were no stupid summoners. The things aren¡¯t too intelligent but they are malicious. They don¡¯t tend to mention the fact that they secrete a toxin that paralyzes anyone that touches their scales with their bare hands.

    ¡°Idiot summoner grabs snake, goes down for twenty or so hours barely able to twitch his fingers. His snake slips out the door and proceeds to kill every living creature that crosses its path. Comes back, paralyzes the idiot again, and resumes its killing spree. Last one that got loose killed a whole town and most of the surrounding wildlife before its summoner died. Definitely doesn¡¯t belong on this list.¡±

    ¡°Lou¡­its venom means certain death.¡±

    ¡°There are a lot of things that can kill people,¡± I say with a scoff.

    ¡°How quickly you forget being a mere mortal.¡±

    ¡°Being a mere mortal, it didn¡¯t take the deadliest poison recorded in any realm to kill me, so I could care less. If assassins wanted me dead, they weren¡¯t going to use venom that can go for a 1,000 crowns per ounce and is illegal to own. Besides, it¡¯s lethality is directly linked to someone¡¯s stupidity. A thick pair of gloves and it¡¯s as dangerous as a kitten. Now, the next one on the list is dangerous. Dangerous enough I¡¯d actually support this stupid decree if this thing was the only target.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-35

    Kierra half climbs over me to see the paper better. ¡°Aggro?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the common name. Truthfully, you¡¯re not supposed to say its true name. It hasn¡¯t been proven but most summoners think that it has some way of knowing when someone speaks it and can find you.¡±

    ¡°Are you scared, Lou?¡±

    ¡°No, but I don¡¯t blame anyone who is. This is nothing like my unreasonable aversion to royalty. If you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re dealing with, Aggro can be worse than deadly.¡± I take a deep breath.

    ¡°I¡¯m only going to say its name once. Aggrababoleth, the Many.¡±

    After uttering the feared name, I focus on my senses, ready to detect the slightest change around me. I doubt anything could sneak past Geneva and Bell but the caution is deeply engrained.

    ¡°And what is this Aggra¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah! Don¡¯t just say its name!¡±

    She narrows her eyes.

    I point a finger at her. ¡°I¡¯m serious. This thing is bad news. For anyone.¡± Hmph. I swear. It¡¯s gotten better but this elf has no respect for the art. If she weren¡¯t married to me, who managed to snag Geneva, she¡¯d probably think the lot of us to be a bunch of idiots yanking things they don¡¯t understand from places they understand even less.

    ¡°Look, Aggro is¡­well, to be clear, no one knows what Aggro is. No one has ever documented its main body. What we know is that when someone forms a contract with it, it infects them with a worm-like parasite that we think is an extension of it. The worm allows the summoner to communicate with Aggro, who is smart. Dangerously smart. An idiot suddenly becomes a genius overnight because he¡¯s got a millennia-old being whispering in his ear.

    ¡°But that¡¯s not the scariest part.¡± I shiver. ¡°Aggro¡­the parasite takes root in a caster¡¯s core and feeds on their mana, growing larger. Greedy bastard takes everything. The hosts can¡¯t cast anymore, but in return, Aggro changes them. Makes them stronger. Makes them into¡­something else.¡±

    ¡°Ah. It lures them in with power and warps them to its own agenda.¡±

    ¡°No. Aggro leaves their minds intact and never goes against their will. That¡¯s why summoners continue to make contracts with the damn thing. All the changes he makes are at the summoner¡¯s behest. They get to rebuild themselves however they want. Become handsome enough to have women falling all over them. Strong enough to crush a man¡¯s head like it¡¯s a rotten vegetable. Aggro just insists on one thing.¡±

    I can¡¯t hold back a shudder. ¡°He takes one of their organs and turns it into a¡­thing capable of asexually creating more of the parasites. And those parasites infect others. Aggro only targets intelligent species and he doesn¡¯t treat those without a contract to it kindly. They become extensions of that creature¡¯s will, puppets whose only purpose is to continue spreading its influence.

    ¡°Aggro is scarily good at blending in. He can read the memories of his hosts and imitates them. It¡¯s impossible to tell who¡¯s a meat puppet unless the changes are extreme. And they can get extreme. Misshapen fifteen feet tall abominations that come out when Aggro stops being subtle.¡±

    ¡°I am not hearing anything that sounds dangerous.¡±

    ¡°It took over a city.¡±

    She blinks at me. ¡°A city?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. Fortitude, the oldest city in the kingdom. Infected everyone in it, built an army, and declared the city and its surrounding lands a sovereign state. The crown sent its royal knights of course and Aggro marched abominations to meet them. It was a blood bath. They blew the city to hell just to find that it had built a whole other city underground.¡±

    ¡°And your king simply let an invader claim a piece of his kingdom?¡± Her scoff clearly says what she thinks about this.

    ¡°They had to assault an army of monsters in narrow tunnels. For every meter they claim, Aggro¡¯s minions burrowed ten meters deeper. For every tunnel they collapsed, three more appeared. They tried burning them, it built minions immune to fire. They tried drowning them, it built minions that could swim. You see where this is going.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Kierra licks her lips. ¡°What an exciting enemy.¡±

    ¡°Exciting? That¡¯s one way to describe it. Things got a lot less exciting and a whole lot more scary when the creature drafted a ceasefire agreement. And a whole lot scarier than that when the crown accepted it. Before you go declaring all of humanity to be cowards, the peace came with several benefits. Aggro is a hell of a crafter, for one.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like excuses.¡±

    ¡°It is what it is. Keep fighting and we throw thousands of lives away to essentially clip Aggro¡¯s toenails. Stop fighting, all those lives get to keep living and we get quality goods.¡±

    ¡°I would have thrown every single one of my soldiers at this creature if that¡¯s what it took.¡±

    We stare at each other. Hm. She¡¯s truly offended by this. I suppose it goes against everything she believes in. Everything her people believe in. Saints, another reason not to proclaim myself a diplomat. The elves will walk all over us. I doubt mother-in-law is one for peaceful negotiations.

    ¡°Do you want to hear about the last one?¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Perhaps not. It seems humanity will quake before a sparrow that chirps at them too strongly.¡±

    ¡°I can name three elementals that look like common birds that can kill a man in under ten seconds.¡± My wife isn¡¯t impressed. ¡°Well, you¡¯ll like this next one. Another ban I completely support. Only crazy people form contracts with drakkons.¡±

    Kierra sits up quickly. ¡°There are people who have dragons as servants?!¡±

    Oh, this is the first hint of worry she¡¯s shown. The parasite that enslaves you to an ancient abomination is nothing but a flying lizard terrifies you? Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m reasonably afraid of the sky sovereigns myself. My gripe is that no elemental should be underestimated.

    ¡°Not dragons. Drak-kons.¡± I sigh. ¡°Like I said, only crazy people contract them. They¡¯re powerful. They don¡¯t have the pure affinities all dragons have but they¡¯re larger and stronger. There¡¯s a sure way to tell a drakkon from a dragon. Dragons have horns, drakkons have whiskers.

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a problem if they were just powerful. That thing you said earlier? Nothing could be further from the truth. Drakkons don¡¯t have masters. They contract servants. Worse, the damn lizards are hellbent on conquering any realm they¡¯re summoned to.¡±

    Dragons are born strong. The uncontested apex species in the world. They have incredible amounts of mana, powerful bodies, and are highly intelligent. Because of their lofty position, they don¡¯t socialize, or even communicate, with the other races of the world. They may be powerful, but no one needs to be afraid of them. Even during the Great War, it wasn¡¯t the dragons that caused the upheaval, but their lesser draconid cousins.

    Drakkons are the exact opposite. They live to subjugate weaker races and claim new territory. Like a dog that can¡¯t help but growl at every mutt it sees and piss on every street corner.

    ¡°By the way, the dragon Dunwayne killed was actually a drakkon.¡± Which makes it a lot less impressive but that¡¯s not the reason the story was changed. Who could sleep easy knowing that anyone with the right knowledge could summon a magical behemoth bent on conquest? I only know because my father warned me away from summoning them. If I ever attempted to do so, I think he¡¯d disown me. Maybe worse.

    ¡°A drakkon hasn¡¯t been summoned that could be reasoned with. Tivorex is the only one someone managed to kill. Normally, someone finds the summoner and kills them.¡± I rub my face, feeling a wave of exhaustion. ¡°If Fen is right, one of these is the real target. Golden hens are bad but can be contained. No one cares about the damn snake. They¡¯ve been dealing with succubi for years and the Grimoire family is no longer flaunting the mental affinity like they own it. Aggro is horrifying but a known entity.¡±

    I pop to my feet, feeling a sudden urge to pace. ¡°The only one that makes sense and that could prompt such drastic action is a drakkon. That¡¯s a kingdom-ending threat. Perhaps a threat to all of humanity. But this still doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡± My wife takes advantage of my vacant seat to stretch out. Not even the tantalizing sight of her dress riding up her supple thighs is enough to distract me from my troubling thoughts. ¡°Dunwayne already slew one of these fake sovereigns.¡±

    ¡°In the prime of his life. I don¡¯t doubt he¡¯s powerful but he¡¯s not the spry young man he used to be.¡± A legend he may be but, in the end, the Harvest Hero is still human. He¡¯s still mortal. ¡°There are plenty of strong casters throughout the kingdom. The problem is that drakkons fly. It takes a powerful wind or null caster to counter its wings. All the power in the world is useless as long as it¡¯s stuck on the ground.¡±

    I continue to pace in front of the couch, thoughts whirring. I wondered why this decree came out of nowhere. Maybe it hadn¡¯t? Maybe the crown drafted this decree, targeting a specific group, and used it to threaten them. A group of summoners? If so, a drakkon is a great counter threat. This decree would give the king the excuse he needs to go in swords drawn.

    But who? There are no independent groups of summoners powerful enough to make themselves that kind of threat. That¡¯s my whole problem! Summoners are rare beasts, a dying breed. Who could it possibly be? Why have I never heard of them?!

    ¡°There is one more letter, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± I snap. Saints know what could be in the last one. I almost don¡¯t want to find out but if it¡¯s anything like the other two, I can¡¯t afford not to read it.

    Letting out a deep breath, I pick up the last envelope.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-36

    To my beloved niece,

    I hope this letter finds you well as it has been some time since we¡¯ve spoken. I suppose life must be busy in the Hall. Learn well. While our family¡¯s legacy lies in summoning, there are times when a fireball is required. When oafs simply refuse to see reason.

    I don¡¯t know if you have heard, the crown is preparing a new decree. One that denounces summoners and would make it illegal to contract certain elementals. There are talks about a following decree that would even make it illegal to contact certain realms.

    Ludicrous. It is as if they have forgotten all of the advancements made in this kingdom through contacting elementals. There would be no Harvest without the efforts of summoners. How many advancements have we delivered to casters? How many to healers? To builders? To alchemists? When their pitiful, mortal ways fail, they inevitably come to us. They cajole and threaten us into giving them their answers but in the light of day, they pretend to not know us.

    How many injustices has our family endured? And now, when we finally start to rebuild the Tome name, they once again seek to cowl us. Well, we won¡¯t blindly believe in the kingdom a second time. The Tome family will not be easily dismissed. Summoners will not be stamped out like annoying pests.

    Lou, I am writing this in a bid for you to return to Summer Spire. We need to present a united front in the wake of this assault against our legacy. We are more powerful together, far more powerful than they can imagine.

    I have an audience with the king scheduled in one month. We will stand before this ungrateful king and we will be heard. I hope very much you will be standing with us during that time. As well as my daughter. While I understand her want for adventure, she needs to be with her family.

    I know I can count on you.

    Uncle Jackal

    ¡°What in the nine hells is this?¡± I mumble as I drop the letter, hands going to my head. ¡°Saints, what is this? Has that old bastard lost his saints forsaken mind?¡±

    Hands light on my shoulder, strong fingers bringing me to a stop and massaging the tense muscles. ¡°Breathe, Lou. I thought your uncle¡¯s letter to be the best of them.¡±

    ¡°Haha, the best? The best?! That¡­that¡­crock of hydra shit is the absolute worst! If my beloved uncle was in front of me right now, I¡¯d slap some sense into him. Or the breath out of him. Either one will work!¡±

    I let out a stream of curses as I move away from my wife¡¯s hands, snatching up the letter. ¡°You probably aren¡¯t proficient in noble speak, so let me help you read between the lines.¡± So she can understand why I¡¯m about to lose my mind.

    I clear my throat, raising the paper.

    ¡°To my unfilial niece,

    ¡°I paid a disgusting amount of gold to make sure this letter reaches you so don¡¯t try to pretend you didn¡¯t get it. I wouldn¡¯t put it past you since you abandoned your family to skip off to the Hall. You should have used your connection to the Guiness for the family, you selfish bitch.

    ¡°I would be happy to browbeat and insult for the rest of this letter but there¡¯s a bigger problem. The kingdom is screwing us over. Again. And not just us but summoning itself.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Bastards.

    ¡°Well, good luck to them. I haven¡¯t been spending my long days and good fortune doing nothing. There are others who agree with me. Those who respect the Tome name and our art. People strong enough to give me the balls to confront the king.

    ¡°In one month, we will face the king and make a series of demands. Because my new friends have made me fearless, I¡¯m going to go beyond derailing this decree and try to get as many benefits as possible. The king will definitely refuse my outrageous demands but we¡¯re prepared for it. We¡¯re going to make them respect us again by doing something completely crazy that will most likely result in tragedy.

    ¡°If you want any chance to save your family before we destroy ourselves, get your ass to the capital. And bring my daughter with you. I know it was you who pushed her toward the Guiness. Jokes on you because we¡¯re all about to be dragged into the shit together.

    ¡°Your stupid uncle.¡±

    I drop the letter with a flourish. ¡°Had this been the only letter I received, I¡¯d be far more confused than worried. Maybe curious enough to go back to the capital. However, together with Fen¡¯s letter¡ª¡±

    ¡°The decree may have been targeting another group,¡± Kierra says slowly. ¡°You think your uncle is connected to the group the crown is truly targeting. A group who may have connections to drakkons.¡±

    ¡°Exactly why I am losing my mind.¡± I drop onto the couch with a heavy sigh. This is worse than the worst possibility. I could never have dreamed of this. If the Tome family is associated with the summoning of a damn drakkon, in any way, all my efforts are going to be that much harder. Saints damn it, they may issue a summary detainment order for my whole family on the basis of treason.

    ¡°Then we need to go to the capital.¡±

    My head snaps up. ¡°Wrong. The last place we need to be is the capital. You couldn¡¯t get me there if you dragged me. I will detach my own arm if you try.¡±

    She frowns. ¡°A little dramatic.¡±

    ¡°A drakkon, Kii. Let me tell you this. If a damn drakkon is going to appear in this kingdom, I will be as far away from it as possible. If there is any hope of salvaging the Tome name after whatever fiasco my uncle has planned, I cannot be linked to this thing being summoned.¡± It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t understand what he¡¯s thinking. When I heard about the decree, my immediate reaction was to show those royal bastards that summoners aren¡¯t pushovers and use summoning to do it. My plan was a nuisance summon. Nothing on the level of a drakkon.

    ¡°You would ask me to surrender such¡ª¡±

    ¡°The opposite.¡± Never thought I¡¯d ever say these words. ¡°Distance is only the first part of the plan. However, if I want the Tomes to survive in this kingdom, we have to decisively separate ourselves from the crazy idiots willing to endanger the entire world. ¡°What did you say? There is no distinction like military distinction.¡±

    She smiles her bloodthirsty smile. ¡°Dedia, are you saying what I think you¡¯re saying?¡±

    ¡°My common sense has officially been obliterated, yes. If a group of summoners jeopardizes everything I¡¯m working for by summoning a drakkon in the saints forsaken capital of all places, then I am going to run over there and skin the damn lizard before it can do irrevocable damage. Then I¡¯m going to find those idiots and skin them.¡± Anyone who threatens my art will be crushed. Not all summoners are my kin. I will unhesitatingly crush them, especially if they¡¯re the dangerous kinds.

    Kierra¡¯s smile widens as she saunters over to me. Insistent hands pull me off the couch and she traps me against her chest, her nails going over my scalp. ¡°You¡¯ve come so far,¡± she coos.

    She sounds like a proud parent. I feel like I should comment against this but laying against her pillows is doing wonders for my tense nerves. ¡°Marquis Guiness and Uncle Jackal can go fuck themselves.¡± Especially my uncle. I¡¯d do something myself but if I¡¯m right, he¡¯s in for a world of pain. ¡°We need to get word to Fen. Tell her to get the hell out of that city and take Jac with her. Evacuate every succubi and their summoner, even if they have to tie them up. Then I need to get as far away from the capital as I possibly can.¡±

    The elven continent comes to mind. Then, unexpectedly, so does the Bleak Peaks and the upcoming expedition. It won¡¯t get me as far away but there is no distance great enough to escape malicious rumors. However, if I make substantial contributions in Fort Victory finally gaining a foothold in the Bleak Peaks, well. I¡¯ll be a national hero, with the James family supporting me. The crown will have a hell of a time burying the Tomes then.

    The more I think about it, the more I like it. Not the thought of marching into a vicious land of everlasting blizzards with a bunch of suicidal meatheads, but the possible gains are just too good to ignore.

    ¡°Kii¡­how do you feel about snow?¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-37

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    My wife¡¯s voice calls out to me from the doorway of my rarely used study where I have been sitting for the past several hours. It can¡¯t be helped. This mystery group of summoners is driving me crazy.

    While I was confident in my conclusions earlier, after some time to think, I realized that I was making serious leaps in logic based on what I know. I¡¯m assuming that this group is going to summon a drakkon just because I see drakkon on a list but there are a hundred things they can summon if they want to destroy this kingdom. A thousand things, many of them bringing far more benefits than a drakkon would. A thousand things to anticipate and plan for.

    Or, perhaps all of my guesses are correct. Maybe my uncle is in the capital right now colluding with a bunch of amateurs who think summoning dangerous elementals is a good way to throw a tantrum. Is my father involved? I know that this can only end in blood. I would hope that his convictions about the art would be enough for him to disobey my uncle but if it isn¡¯t, am I willing to let my father¡¯s blood be spilled to save the Tome name, my name? And what does it say about me if I am?

    ¡°Enough.¡± Kierra¡¯s hands grab my shoulders as she leans over me, eyes flicking over the dozens of pages. ¡°Ignoring me and my dinner for your little writings. You¡¯ve certainly grown bold.¡±

    ¡°These are not little writings,¡± I grumble. ¡°I am trying to think of the worse elementals a group could summon if they wanted to disrupt the kingdom. As in, anything a touch subtler than a drakkon but just as effective at getting their point across.¡± If my uncle is involved, I have to hope that he would be a moderating influence but it¡¯s just as much as a problem if he is since the records gathered by my family over the years are quite extensive.

    ¡°Of course, I could be completely wrong and they could be aiming for maximum damage. Summoners built the kingdom once before, whose to say they can¡¯t do it again?¡± And wouldn¡¯t it tickle my uncle to rule a kingdom of summoners? Not even I could say that doesn¡¯t sound tempting. ¡°In that case, they may summon three drakkons and kill the contractors once the devastation has been wrought.¡±

    In which case, we¡¯re all royally screwed.

    ¡°None of which you can solve from here. We have already written instructions for the succubi. They will investigate. Worrying will help nothing.¡±

    I can¡¯t help thinking she¡¯s too na?ve. Or perhaps too eager for a challenge. While I¡¯m dreading world-ending threats, she¡¯s probably anticipating them.

    My mind whirs with visions of behemoths that can crush mountains with a single step and deadly shadows that can slip through the slightest cracks in walls. I see cloud-like beings who permanently darken the sky, raining spores that cause mass delirium. I see rats, simple rats, with the intelligence of men. Or butterflies who spread plague and disease with each beat of their wings¡ª

    ¡°Iyaahh!¡± An undignified yelp escapes my throat as I¡¯m lifted into the air. My wife decisively walks out of the study, kicking the door shut behind her. I try to squirm out of her grip but it¡¯s too difficult to exert my full strength while being carried like a bag of potatoes. ¡°Let me down!¡±

    ¡°I refuse~¡± she says with an annoying amount of amusement. ¡°Sitting in the dark brooding about what may happen is pointless. You have other things to focus on.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°You keep saying that but it¡¯s not true. If I can anticipate what they¡¯re going to do¡ª¡±

    ¡°You are not anticipating what they will do. You are trying to undermine your best guess.¡±

    I wince. ¡°I¡¯m not undermining the drakkon theory. I just realized there were several more likely scenarios. Having a plan for those scenarios in place would significantly reduce the fallout.¡±

    ¡°Tell me, how long will it take you to create these plans? Will you spend now until this supposed catastrophe ignoring me and your health to save a few more irrelevant people? No. If they die, they die. It is your king¡¯s duty to see they are protected, not yours. Your duty is to me tonight.¡±

    My jaw gapes and she takes advantage of my lapse in struggling to speed up. I hardly notice the jolts as she carries me up the steps. Saints, I knew my wife could be cold but that was¡­something else. How many people could say that with a straight face and without the tiniest hitch in their voice?

    The harsh words are enough to shock me out of my thoughts. She¡¯s right. I could make a hundred plans based on the most likely elementals they could use and I could still be completely wrong. Saints, it might not even involve summoning. Summoners aren¡¯t exempt to other means of hurting people. Illegal use of alchemy can achieve the same results. Or maybe they¡¯ll resort to banditry.

    I¡¯ve decided not to rush to the capital to distance myself from whatever this is. No matter what, I won¡¯t be there fast enough to stop what they¡¯re planning. There will be casualties. Stressing about saving a couple people when the whole city might be gone by time I get news is a touch ridiculous. Especially since I¡¯m less concerned about the people themselves as I am what their deaths will do for summoning¡¯s reputation.

    Flying through the air brings me back to the moment as I land on our bed. Kierra stares at me with hooded eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I will make sure none of those pesky thoughts can bother you anymore.¡±

    I gulp, ready for her to pounce on me in her usual style. She surprises me by turning around. I sit up but before I can call out to her, she opens the door and I¡¯m distracted by Geneva entering the room, followed by Bell. My little imp dashes across the room and leaps onto the bed, throwing herself at me. I catch her and flop down onto the bed, nuzzling against her.

    ¡°Hello, my little saint.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    ¡°No greeting for me, my summoner?¡± Geneva says cutely. She pauses at the end of the bed, tail slowly whipping through the air.

    ¡°Heh.¡± If I¡¯m being honest, I forget to greet her because she¡¯s always next to me. We have very few meetings.

    Bell wiggles out of my arms as the bed dips. My wife crawls toward me, eyes predatory. ¡°I like when you¡¯re stubborn,¡± she whispers. ¡°It gives me an excuse to get creative.¡±

    ¡°As if you need the excuse,¡± I counter, unconsciously licking my lips. I reach out to her but she bats my hand away. Kneeling, she pulls her dress over her head and tosses it aside. My eyes move to her chest, barely contained in by the cloth used to bind it. She meets my gaze as she reaches behind her to undo it. I don¡¯t see where she tosses it as my attention is solely focused on the twin mountains looming over me.

    In a trance, I sit up, reaching for her. I frown as she grabs my wrists. She pushes my arms toward the bed as I push to reach her. She¡¯s winning but my will is divided. The further she pushes me down, the more she leans over me, getting me closer to my goal.

    In the end, she pins me, but I spring my trap. Taking advantage of her lapse in attention, I turn us around, quickly reversing our positions. I enjoy the victory for about two seconds before her foot kicks me off. Frantic scrambling manages to keep me on the bed and I stare at her with a dropped jaw. ¡°Kii!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, dedia?¡± I swallow my complaints as she slides her panties down her long legs. It¡¯s a little hard with a dry mouth. ¡°Have I been making it so easy for you lately that you¡¯ve forgotten how to hunt for your dinner?¡± She makes beckoning motions with her hands. ¡°Surely you didn¡¯t think your¡­assets would cowl me forever.¡±

    ¡°Would that be so bad?¡± I mutter. I didn¡¯t intend to be heard but with those long ears, it¡¯s inevitable.

    She chuckles. Then she moves, faster than I¡¯ve ever seen her move before.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-38

    Elegant fingers latch around my ankle and pull, sliding me over the cool sheets and underneath her. I make a futile attempt to pull my leg free before reaching for her hand. She lets me grab her before wrapping her opposite arm around me, turning us around until I¡¯m trapped on my stomach. I immediately brace myself on my palms and push up with all my strength, throwing her off, and scramble over our covers to put my back to the headboard. ¡°This again?¡± I half-whine as she rolls back onto her knees. ¡°I thought you had all of this out of your system by now.¡±

    ¡°I never tire of a good struggle snuggle.¡±

    Memories of creaking bones and a pounding headache flash through my mind. I hate and love that phrase. Same with what it describes. ¡°That¡¯s not happening,¡± I say. What did I design this prime form for? Maybe if she asked nicely but she¡¯s not wrestling me down like the Lou of the past.

    ¡°The struggle is half the fun,¡± she growls before launching herself at me. It¡¯s rather impressive how she manages to properly brace herself on the dipping bed but I only have a second to admire her. The next moment, I¡¯ve already reverted back to my origin form, a blob of star-studded ooze.

    I¡¯ve been exploring this body along with Geneva and while we haven¡¯t been able to sus out all of its mysteries, we¡¯ve reached a few conclusions. All organic matter I eat is transformed into the strange solid mana that composes my body, what I call ooze. The ooze has many strange properties but the strangest, and perhaps most useful, is its ability to compress itself. After eating a mountain of corpses, I can still compress myself into the dimensions of my prime form or I can expand to the full size of the mountain, according to my will.

    With a thought, I inflate, the speed giving me enough force to shred my clothes and push her off the bed. I ooze off the bed before reverting to my prime form. Someone with lesser knowledge of her abilities might have thought her lying prone on the floor to be a vulnerable moment. I know it¡¯s a trap. She could have caught herself easily. Her sprawled limbs are like a hunter¡¯s trap, eager to clamp down on anything unlucky enough to move into her range. I have the advantage in strength. One of the easiest ways for her to negate that is to get me in a grapple.

    ¡°You comfortable?¡± I ask, rolling my neck.

    In response, she spins, bracing herself with one hand before putting her feet under her. She chuckles and bounces on her toes. My eyes snap to a certain part of her. A distraction that costs me as in the next second, Kierra is on me, her fist snapping my head to the side.

    She doesn¡¯t hold back. At all.

    ¡°You¡ª¡± I swear as she charges at me. Fully prepared, I deflect her following blows and grab her arm. I catch her fist in my other hand, putting us at a stalemate. A stalemate I¡¯m slowly losing as her fingers glow with her green mana. Strong as I may be, she¡¯s still a master caster of the physical affinity. Prolonged confrontations are not in my favor.

    I let go of her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She pushes down my arms to break my hold. It feels like someone dropping boulders on me but it¡¯s not enough to free her. Or break my concentration as I finish my spell.

    Her eyes widen as a sphere of water springs up around us. I revert back to my origin form, creating a half dozen tentacles and wrapping them around her. This isn¡¯t how I saw this night going but I guess we can get to that once she wakes up. Strong as she is, she needs to breathe and her strength is compromised underwater. This impromptu fight is as good as won¡­

    Until I feel her shrink. It¡¯s the only way I can describe it. She¡¯s suddenly slim enough to slip right through my grip and kicks her legs twice to escape the bubble of water. Her hand reaches into the bubble, grabbing one of my tentacles and yanking me out. The world spins as she throws me into the wall.

    My malleable body absorbs most of the force. It speaks to how monstrously strong this elf is that I still hear the wall crack as I slide down.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to do better than that,¡± she says. Her slim muscles grow to their usual definition, her whole body glowing with a green sheen. ¡°Did you forget that I am also a shapeshifter?¡±

    ¡­I had. She rarely uses her affinity to do anything other than buff herself and heal. Besides, shapeshifting isn¡¯t exactly a well-known art.

    ¡°Then, let me remind you what I can do.¡±

    Hmph. As if it¡¯s going to be that easy.

    I expand, inflating my rope-like tentacles to three times their width before throwing them at her. They aren¡¯t much but eventually, I¡¯ll wear her down.

    To my surprise, she doesn¡¯t try to dodge them. She grabs the closest one, ignoring the others that wrap around her, bringing it to her mouth. I¡¯m beyond curious what she plans to do when she opens her mouth wide, far wider than her jaw should be able to. Her blunt smile has been replaced with a maw of dagger-like teeth reserved for nightmares. I instinctively try to pull away but she¡¯s stronger than my oozey self. She raises the end of the tentacle higher and clamps down.

    I flinch as a piece of me is torn off, feeling a rare moment of pain. I struggle with her to pull back the tentacle, wrapping another around her throat to keep her from tearing off another piece. It¡¯s not enough to keep her from chewing. There is something deeply disturbing about watching another eat a piece of you.

    And deeply offensive when she spits it out.

    ¡°I wondered what had the pets so fascinated but you aren¡¯t so easily digested. Something to work on.¡±

    Can you not try and devise ways to eat me?! I¡¯m suddenly very nervous about being in this form.

    It doesn¡¯t help that my elementals¡¯ heavy gazes have been watching me this whole time, though now their attention is directed to the discarded part. I extend another tentacle to absorb it. Then I pull on her.

    It feels like trying to drag a dragon. Did she make herself heavier?

    ¡°Are you surprised?¡± her amused voice asks. She can¡¯t shake off my tentacles but I sure as saints can¡¯t do anything to stop her as she starts to walk forward. ¡°Have you forgotten who I am?¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Seeing the futility of my ooze form, I retract my limbs and change to my prime form. ¡°How could I forget anything about my lovely wife?¡±

    ¡°Then you know¡­¡± I tense, trying to think of a way to beat her. Or at the very least, slow her down. ¡°I never stop pushing.¡±

    I¡¯m building a spell before she stops speaking. As her muscles tense, a bubble of water forms between us. The floor cracks as she braces herself, a light green sheen coating her from head to toe. I cross my arms and plant my feet. At least she¡¯s predictable. She wants to overpower me so she¡¯s going to come at me straight. I just need to¡ª

    There air whistles and water droplets hit my face a moment before she plows into me, throwing me off my feet. I fly through the wall, debris raining into our yard as I soar through the air. I curl into a ball before hitting the ground, rolling with the impact.

    My roll lasts for nearly a minute, finally stopping when I slam into the trunk of a large tree. Groaning, I slowly get to my feet. I blink as blood almost drips into my eye, quickly wiping at the cut on my forehead. My ribs ache and my ankle feels like I might have twisted it. Saints damn it, I haven¡¯t been injured since I designed this form.

    There is a long trail of devastation through the garden. Poor Gajin is going to be devastated, but not as devastated as I am looking at the hole in our bedroom wall.

    Standing at the edge is my wife. A quick change of ¡®films¡¯ allows me to see her smiling like a madman while staring at me. She chuckles before jumping down, the ground quaking as she lands. Slowly, she stalks toward me. A predator teasing its prey.

    She wants to do this? Fine.

    Let¡¯s take this up a notch.

    I conjure another sphere of water, this one larger than any other, and raise it over my head. Then I cast another, rapidly heating it. A thick cloud of steam rolls through the garden, held in place by wind spell that keeps it from dispersing.

    The true terror of a multi-affinity caster. They don¡¯t just create spells. They are walking natural disasters, able to bring the greatest forces of the world to bare. And there¡¯s really no way to prepare for them, as their repertoire is too vast.

    However, the heavy use of magic is taking its toll. I¡¯m starting to feel a bit of strain, which means I have less than half my coefficient available. I won¡¯t be able to keep up these tricks for long.

    The heat of the steam means nothing to me with my new body but it has to be uncomfortable for her and it¡¯ll make her waste some mana to keep from being cooked. My own body is able to resist the heat without a problem but the humidity is annoying. Not to mention the lack of visibility will slow her down. No more reckless charging.

    ¡°Good!¡± she shouts. ¡°But you can¡¯t stay on the defensive or your prey will find a way to turn the tables.¡±

    Beneath my feet, grasses and flowers sway in a breeze that doesn¡¯t exist. Swearing, I launch myself into the air. Just in time as a shadow bursts from the steam, skidding to a halt a scant distance from where I was standing. I use a burst of wind to accelerate my fall just as my wife looks up. She starts to raise her hands but doesn¡¯t have enough time to stop me as I land on her, foot first, the two of us crashing to the ground.

    I jump off her when I hear her grunt of pain, dashing away before she can get her hands on me. The plant life erupts, roots twining together and reaching out for me. I hastily construct a flame, setting them all alight. Magically enhanced plants or not, fire eats them all the same. I say a silent apology to Gajin as I watch them shrivel and burn, moving lightly through the steam.

    I can hear Kierra running after me, not bothering to smother her footsteps. They sound lighter than before. Seems that titanic weight costs too much mana to maintain.

    We¡¯re both hampered visually but my ears are much better than even hers. I can pinpoint her exact location with my eyes closed, which I do, throwing a flame arrow towards her. I hear her change direction as she determines my location, appearing in front of me a moment later.

    My eyes widen as I take her in. Specifically the forest green scales covering every inch of her. Her face is turned toward me, eyes closed, lips turned up in a smile.

    ¡°The hell?¡±

    ¡°Wyvern scales,¡± she answers. ¡°Immune to all heat except dragonfire and most other forms of damage.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­so unfair. ¡°Really?¡± I ask in an aggrieved tone.

    ¡°You are not the only one who learns from their prey.¡±

    Leave it to her to have draconid scales up her sleeves. Why in the saints¡¯ names don¡¯t I have draconid scales? Keeping up the steam is pointless now. I cut the mana to the wind spell holding it in place and it slowly begins to thin.

    Kierra¡¯s nose twitches. It¡¯s actually kind of cute. ¡°Done with your tricks?¡±

    ¡°You just barrel through them, you brute.¡± Seriously. I was quite proud of the steam cloud idea. It¡¯s the first way I thought to combine my many elements and against anyone, or anything else, it¡¯d be highly effective. Monsters would have their faces melted off, knights would cook in their armor. Unfortunately, the first person I get to try it against is my wife.

    Heat immune scales of all things. Can¡¯t hide because she can search the whole garden through the plants. Don¡¯t have enough experience with the other elements to pull a rabbit out of my ass. That only leaves one option.

    I raise my hands with a sigh. ¡°Come on, then.¡± I wonder if this is why my prime form is based around strength. It always comes down to a fistfight with her. At the end of the day, nothing is immune to being punched hard enough.

    Her eyes open, visibly regenerating as the last of the steam dissipates. ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready.¡±

    As I¡¯ll ever be.

    In a heartbeat, we¡¯re exchanging blows. She gets in three hits for my every one but I make for a hell of a punching bag. Not even the devastating charge earlier did much damage and it¡¯s already healed. She¡¯s also not buffing herself. I can only guess her constant healing, the scales, and the plant play exhausted some of that huge coefficient. Enough that she¡¯s not using it recklessly.

    I cast a quick Telepathy spell. A completely harmless mental spell but it can be annoying. Especially when the caster transmits a scream directly into your mind. Kierra flinches and I use the drop in her guard to get in a solid blow, throwing everything I have behind it.

    It snaps her head back and drops her. I¡¯m on her in a second, my hands around her throat. ¡°We could have just had a nice night in,¡± I growl while choking her. Her hands grab my wrist, glowing green, but I won¡¯t be moved so easily, pressing down on her with my full weight. She gives up on trying to move my hands, her fingernails morphing into claws.

    I wince as they dig into my hands, having no choice but to get off her. I take several steps back, watching her warily as she gets to her feet, coughing. She¡¯s grinning but it fades as she stumbles.

    Ha! She honestly thought I was going to slug it out with her? Even a dog can learn what to do and not to do if it¡¯s beaten enough. Why would I bang my head against a stone wall when it¡¯s futile?

    Good thing she also forgot what I can do. Mainly that I have more tricks than magic. My body has the ability to secrete substances through my skin. A skill I mainly use in the bedroom but aphrodisiacs aren¡¯t the only thing I¡¯m carrying.

    I can also release the paralytic toxin that has my wife swaying on her feet, devised by the wonderful Geneva, saints bless her. One strong enough to give even her powerful magic a challenge. And I¡¯ve been secreting it from the start, every time our bodies have come into contact.

    ¡°Youuuu¡­¡± Kierra laughs as her speech slurs.

    ¡°Yes, yes, I know. Very devious.¡± I walk toward her leisurely. She tries to move but it¡¯s a joke to catch her. I pin her arms to her side and push three fingers into her mouth. I prepared myself for that nightmarish maw but all I meet are her usual pearly whites and a soft tongue. Thank the saints she reversed that particular change. With a grin, I start to secrete more of the toxin. It should take effect much quicker now. ¡°Poison is unfair but what do you want from me? You didn¡¯t leave me many options.¡±

    Her body sags in my arms. ¡°Werk¡­twiiii¡­¡±

    ¡°I know it won¡¯t work twice.¡± I bet by the end of the day, she¡¯ll have changed her body to resist the toxin. A problem for tomorrow¡¯s Lou. Today, I lift her onto my shoulder and carry her through our mangled garden back to the house.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-39

    The entire house is gathered as I carry Kierra through the front door. My young steward is unflappable, holding his curious sister by the shoulders to prevent her from going outside. Gajin is standing by the window, staring out at the devastated garden with a crestfallen expression. Nomad is propped up against a wall, head nodding as he fights sleep.

    They all look up at the sound of my footsteps. ¡°Milady¡­¡± Gajin says, the man sounding close to tears. I wince. Both because of the possibility of seeing a grown man¡¯s tears and my slight guilt.

    These are my little oddballs and I care about them. I wouldn¡¯t be sympathetic if it was something simple but the man dedicates his life to plants. I knew the moment I set fire to the garden that it¡¯d be a devastating blow and did it anyway. If I can¡¯t feel some guilt over that, then I might as well take my heart from my prime form. No need to keep something I¡¯m not using.

    ¡°Alright.¡± I make my way over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, the man stumbling a little. Ah, check my strength, check my strength. My control is a little lacking after the all-out slug fest with my wife.

    ¡°Tomorrow, she¡¯s going to help you fix it.¡± I jostle the elf on my shoulder. It¡¯s only right. Her using the plants is what led to their destruction. ¡°Just imagine. A garden filled with bigger, stronger plants.¡± I¡¯m not afraid to make promises. Kierra¡¯s the one who has to deliver and she¡¯s more than capable. If it¡¯s really too much, I¡¯ll throw the succubi at it. ¡°You don¡¯t see it now but this is a good thing.¡±

    He takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. ¡°The mistress¡­is amazing.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t she? In fact, write down three, ah, flowers you really want but were out of your reach. I¡¯ll get them for you.¡±

    He brightens up. ¡°That¡¯s¡­thank you, milady!¡± He nods to himself rapidly, like a chicken pecking feed. ¡°Mm. The ashes will make the soil rich. Yes, the garden will be better than ever. We can make it the treasure of the Hall!¡±

    Ambitious but sure. ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s the spirit.¡±

    ¡°I must go draw plans!¡± He takes three large steps before turning around and giving me a hasty bow. ¡°Good evening, milady.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, have fun.¡± I chuckle as he bolts out the door, dodging the few lingering fires as he makes his way back to his shack. ¡°Nomad, you can go on back to sleep.¡±

    ¡°The cycle of destruction and rebirth is as timeless as the stars,¡± he mutters sleepily before stumbling off toward his room. Ah, maybe he¡¯s saying he wasn¡¯t worried? Or maybe he¡¯s glad I¡¯m okay? There¡¯s no understanding that man.

    ¡°Earl, I¡¯ve got a job for you.¡± The young man perks up like a dog hearing the dinner bell. ¡°There¡¯s a giant hole in my bedroom. I need supplies to fix it. You know where the house funds are. Make a list. Tomorrow, you can grab Mr. Self-Made and go shopping. Spare no expense, consult Geneva in the morning if you have any doubts. Oh, and swing by Gajin¡¯s shack before bed to see if he needs anything to get started. And remind him to go to sleep.¡± Knowing that maniac, he¡¯ll be up all night designing his dream garden.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°As you say, my lady!¡± he replies crisply.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to go handle this.¡± I jostle my wife and she lets out a weak groan. ¡°Probably shouldn¡¯t disturb us for the rest of the night.¡±

    ¡°As you say.¡±

    Anna moves the most she can under his grip. I look down as she extends a hand, fist closed. Slowly, I bend down, not wanting to spook her, but her usually manic eyes are clear. I put a hand under hers and the little fingers unfurl. A small golden candy, one of the ones Geneva gives her, falls into my palm. She gives my wife a long look before stepping back toward her brother, blinking at us.

    Awwww! I¡¯m dying of cuteness. Who knew there was such a good girl under that stab-happy maniac raised by bandits? ¡°Thank you, Anna,¡± I say warmly. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure she gets it.¡±

    The little girl nods and gives me a thin smile.

    Haah. Is this what a proud parent feels like?

    ¡°Then, we¡¯ll take our leave.¡± Earl gives me a quick bow before leading his sister away. I watch them go with a fond smile before going up the steps. On the way, I feel Kierra twitching, a quick jerk of her arm or a flex of her toes. The poison is starting to lose its kick, huh. Not that it matters.

    Geneva and Bell are waiting in the bedroom, lounging on the bed without a care for the wanton destruction throughout the room. I hadn¡¯t noticed before but we destroyed quite a bit of furniture. I guess it¡¯s to be expected when I have an elf charging around like a mad bull. I have to step carefully around the splintered wood to avoid damaging the floor further.

    I gently lay Kierra on the bed, spreading her limbs and combing her hair out of her face.

    ¡°Welcome back, my summoner,¡± Geneva purrs, leaning towards us with a sharp gaze. ¡°I take it our work paid off?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, knocked her on her ass.¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not going to work a second time.¡±

    ¡°That is why your prime form is designed to synthesize all kinds of poisons. What fun we¡¯ll have.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. But we¡¯re still not done with today. Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± My favorite imp jumps towards me, eyes wide and eager. [Please give me a command, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Binds.¡± I¡¯d normally never expect her to be able to contain my wife but these aren¡¯t ordinary circumstances. With her showing off, Kierra¡¯s sure to have burned through, at least, a quarter of her mana. My guess would be closer to half. Fighting off the paralytic is going to take a large chunk out of what¡¯s left, especially since she¡¯s trying to do it quickly.

    At her full strength, Bell¡¯s at a significant advantage. Something she knows from the wide smile she gives me. I hear a faint rumble and turn to see a cloud of earth flow through the hole in the wall. It breaks into four flows, going around my wife¡¯s wrists and ankles before condensing. Bell does something to change it as the brown earth turns into thin circlets of matte black stone.

    ¡°Coo~¡± [She will not be able to break the circlets before I can repair them and I control their positions.]

    ¡°Great.¡± If she was at full strength, Kierra would eventually win the tug of war of their magic. Or, more sensibly, would never allow herself to be bound. At the moment, she¡¯s recovered enough movement to flex her hands, forming and unforming fists. ¡°I think we have time to get dinner going before the poison runs its course. Something simple.¡±

    Geneva¡¯s tail swings, no doubt reading my thoughts. ¡°Of course.¡±

    As she leaves the room, I make myself comfortable on the bed, clinging to Kierra¡¯s side as I lay my head on her chest. The chilly breeze of the oncoming winter feels great while pressed against my wife¡¯s hot body as it works hard to purge the foreign substance compromising it. I relax, riding the edge of sleep while listening to my succubus work her magic in the kitchen.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-40

    An hour later, a curtain has been hung over the hole in our bedroom, my wife has gained what limited control over her body Bell¡¯s bindings will allow, and Geneva is carrying a tray laden down with our dinner, tail swinging.

    I groggily raise my head and slip out of the bed, wandering over to my chef. I lift the lid off a large bowl and the enticing smell of a rich stew enters my nose. The plate beside it has several rolls, the bread a crispy golden brown and smelling of butter.

    ¡°I did say simple,¡± I mumble as I take the tray from my succubus¡¯ hands. Everything she cooks tastes amazing anyway.

    I carefully climb onto the bed, careful not to spill a drop. I kneel next to Kierra and place the tray on my lap. ¡°Dinner time, Kii.¡±

    ¡°Mm. You can¡¯t expect me to eat like this.¡±

    She flexes her arms but they don¡¯t move. Next to her, Bell coos, clearly enjoying the victory. My wife turns and flashes the imp a grin. ¡°I¡¯ll have you, pet.¡± In response, Bell scampers over her to hide behind me, peering at her from around my body.

    Haha, do you expect me to protect you? I have enough problems keeping myself safe. By tomorrow, there will be no trace of our ¡®play¡¯ on my body but for now, I still have very faint bruises and more than a few aches. ¡°Help her sit up.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    Kierra raises her body and Bell cooperates, moving her arms down so she can be comfortable. Geneva comes around the bed while fluffing a pillow, kneeling on the bed to put it behind her. My wife relaxes. ¡°You could always let me go.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not taking any chances,¡± I mumble before swallowing a spoonful of the stew. That succubus is a godsend. The next spoonful I move toward Kierra. ¡°Say ah.¡±

    She raises a brow but after several seconds of my deadpan stare, she obediently opens her mouth and accepts the food. ¡°What if I promise to behave?¡± she says as I alternate feeding us.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you know the meaning of the word.¡± I rip a roll in two, munching on one half while I feed her the other.

    ¡°You did good today,¡± she coos. ¡°Thought on your feet, planned ahead, played to your strengths but didn¡¯t balk to fight at a disadvantage.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes, I think you take the teaching thing too far.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen anything.¡±

    ¡°And what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯re done play wrestling. You¡¯re ready for more¡­adult games.¡±

    I just know she doesn¡¯t mean that the way I¡¯d want her to. ¡°Like?¡±

    ¡°No more testing.¡± She grins. ¡°One day, you¡¯re going to wake up and I will not be by your side. I will be stalking you. Ready to assassinate you.¡±

    I stare at her for a long moment. She snaps me out of my stupor by licking her lips and motioning toward the spoon. I woodenly feed her. ¡°You¡¯re serious.¡±

    ¡°Very~ As much as our time would have you believe different, my abilities are far more effective in the role of a hunter.¡± She pauses as I feed her another half of a roll. ¡°You need no help fighting the creatures that will come at you in a straightforward manner. Even if they can best your prime form, they cannot destroy you and with enough mass, you may recover and eventually tire out any foe.

    ¡°The ones you need to be concerned about are those like me. The ones who will strike from the shadows, watch you, and adapt. Those who will realize they cannot kill you, take off your head to incapacitate you for the brief moment they need to trap you with an artifact, and bury you in a hole where not even the pets can find you.¡±

    Before, those kinds of words might have evoked fear. Now? All I can think about is how annoying it¡¯s going to be to look over my shoulder all day while waiting for my wife to put an arrow through my eye. How am I supposed to stop that? Might be time to make some adjustments to my prime form. My recent fight has given me some ideas. ¡°Sure thing, Kii.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°You truly have come far.¡±

    ¡°Only so much quivering a person can do.¡± With the stew almost gone, I raise the bowl to my lips and down the rest of it.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes¡­you¡¯re almost ready.¡±

    I peer at her over the rim of the bowl. ¡°Almost?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You just need one more¡­push.¡±

    ¡°You and this pushing.¡± I put the bowl on the tray. Geneva is at my side ready to take it when I think of wanting to put it aside. I climb atop my wife, loving the way her eyes sparkle as she smiles. Her lips are wet from dinner and I don¡¯t hold back the urge to lick them. ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid that one day you¡¯re going to push me too far?¡± I whisper, staring deeply into her eyes. ¡°What then?¡±

    ¡°Do you love me, dedia?¡± she whispers.

    ¡°Mm. You know I do.¡± The saints know there¡¯s something broken in my head, but I do. ¡°I love you more than anyone I¡¯ve ever loved.¡± If I¡¯ve ever loved anyone beyond mere obligation. As fond as I am of my elementals, it¡¯s different. I can never trust them or their motives. No matter what they say, a contract, not emotion, binds them to me.

    Alana is the only one who I can also say I love but it¡¯s different. I would never want to but if I had to choose¡­I¡¯ve simply shared too much with this elf. We¡¯re bound for life.

    ¡°And I you,¡± she says happily. ¡°I will never stop pushing. I can¡¯t. When the day comes that I push too hard, I will accept anything¡­except you leaving me.¡± Her eyes glow briefly with channeled mana before she releases it. ¡°That, I will never allow.¡±

    I¡¯d be lying if I said that doesn¡¯t sound ominous, but hasn¡¯t that been our relationship from the start? A picturesque newlywed life with an undercurrent of dread as I await her next stunt. ¡°Anything?¡± I ask, removing the pillow from behind her and guiding her to lie down.

    ¡°Anything,¡± she promises in a seductive whisper.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you have planned that you feel the need to make such a promise,¡± I sigh, slowly stripping. ¡°Don¡¯t think I want to know. It might ruin the anticipation of this promised reward.¡± Anything? With all the different abilities between us, that is a very risky word.

    I press our naked bodies together. ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want to take that back and behave yourself? I¡¯m getting ideas.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rude not to share.¡±

    I hum as I kiss her. After a breath, her tongue pushes between my lips, greedily going after the aphrodisiac that makes up my saliva. I let her have her way for a while before stretching my much longer tongue.

    I bully hers, chasing it back to its home and pinning it down. This close, we share the same air. The little we can get in the brief moments our lips aren¡¯t connected. I¡¯m sure a normal person would have passed out already but we¡¯re both beyond such mortal concerns.

    Her lips try to chase me when I finally pull away but I keep her in place by holding her down by her shoulders. I kiss along her neck before trailing my tongue up to and along her ear, enjoying the way she shivers under me. ¡°If I can¡¯t trust you to behave yourself, then I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on you. Maybe keep you pinned to my bed just like this until I fuck all that bad behavior out of you.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°You¡¯ll have to visit me often.¡±

    Isn¡¯t that the truth. I don¡¯t know if even I have the stamina for it. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I say, trailing my lips down her chest. My lips close over one of her nipples, her moans sounding in my ear as I lather it with my tongue and tease it lightly with my teeth. She hisses and arches toward my mouth when I pinch the opposite one. ¡°Maybe I should be like you? A little tough love until you get the message.¡±

    ¡°I can take anything you give me,¡± she pants under my ministrations. Her limbs constantly flex as she tries to move but Bell¡¯s bindings do their work, holding her in place and keeping her helpless.

    ¡°There¡¯s that dangerous word again. Maybe I need to give you something to keep you out of trouble. Should I make these bindings permanent? Make little Bell your caretaker to keep you out of trouble? Or¡­¡± I trail my tongue down to her stomach and kiss the taut muscles, my own stomach doing a nervous flip at what I¡¯m imagining. ¡°Might keep you out of trouble.¡±

    She laughs joyfully, making the little performer in my gut jump into a whole intricate routine. ¡°Do you think the world is ready for our spawn?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯ll be busy wrangling her.¡±

    ¡°Her?¡±

    ¡°I hope you like cute daughters.¡± Despite my many additions, I am essentially female so there¡¯s no chance of having a son. There¡¯s a small chance they may be ¡®gifted¡¯ like me but that¡¯s as close as my children will ever be the hairier sex. Geneva assures me as much.

    ¡°Daughters are wonderful,¡± she says softly. Perhaps wistfully but that¡¯s probably just my imagination. ¡°Can you imagine? A child born with your talents and a pure affinity?¡±

    ¡°¡­saints protect the world.¡± Because she¡¯d surely make it her plaything. I¡¯d be lying if I said the thought doesn¡¯t excite me. Talk about a legacy. The Tome name will be synonymous with divinity.

    ¡°Elves aren¡¯t as fertile as human women,¡± she says. ¡°My mother had multiple partners for centuries and never reached a dozen.¡± Her lips turn up in a playful smile. ¡°If that¡¯s what you want, my love, you¡¯re going to have to work for it.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s a good thing it¡¯s time for dessert.¡±

    She chuckles but it quickly turns into a gasp as I move between the thighs. Her sweet juices are already overflowing and I waste no time diving in, licking up every drop before flicking her little bud.

    Her hips buck toward me and I oblige the silent plea, snaking my tongue inside her. She groans as my length fills her, twisting and thrashing to reach places no ordinary tongue can. I put her legs over my shoulders and redouble my efforts. Her moans become louder and shriller, her walls pressing down on me like she wants to tear something off. Good thing I¡¯m made of sterner stuff. It only means I need to use a little more strength.

    ¡°More¡­harder, Lou¡­g-give me¡­¡±

    Damn elf. Always so demanding. Always pushing. We¡¯ll see how long she can go before she starts begging me to stop.

    ¡°Haaaah, yes! I¡¯m almost, mmmmm!!!¡±

    I press my mouth to her entrance as she tenses, her pleasure surging past my lips and wetting my chin. My ¡®gift¡¯ pulses between my legs, sending a wave of pleasure up my spine and making my heart pound with excitement.

    But the moment is ruined by someone noisily kicking down my front door.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-41

    Alyssa knew from the moment her fire affinity was discovered, she would spend a lifetime fighting. The Filigree family were Victory nobles. Instead of riding the achievements of their long dead ancestors, each generation was expected to cultivate themselves and contribute to the ultimate goal of conquering the Bleak Peaks.

    As her father¡¯s third daughter, she at least had a choice in what way she would give herself. She could marry one of the knights, popping out new soldiers for the cause while joining the other wives in managing her family¡¯s estate. Or she could swear off marriage and join one of the virgin orders, knightly orders composed entirely of women and the only orders female fighters of Victory were allowed to join.

    Young and brash, she chose the latter, eager to throw herself at the monsters she¡¯d grown up hating. Once she left, she wondered why she, and every other youth of Victory, hated the lords of winter so much. Despite their many attempts at war, humanity had lived in peace with their neighbors for centuries.

    They would lose nothing if they simply gave up their endless campaign. Rather, if so many of their soldiers weren¡¯t buried under the heavy banks of snow year after year, Duke James would have no trouble marching on Summer Spire and usurping the throne. An eventuality that most likely explained why the crown continued to support the fruitless endeavor with countless resources.

    Reason didn¡¯t matter. As if the grudge was passed down through their blood, no matter the futility, no matter what they suffered personally, no matter how many of their family members died, new recruits willing to give their lives appeared yearly and fearlessly marched into the land of winter, hell bent on honoring the name of their home.

    Alyssa had been one of the best among them. Less for her talent and more for her temperament. A genius was useless if they broke down after their first blizzard. It took something special to march to what most, including the people of Victory, considered certain death. Her teachers used the word ¡®bravery¡¯. Alyssa thought it was closer to ¡®lunacy¡¯. The orders liked their recruits strong, resilient, and a little crazy. She fit the description perfectly.

    But not even her fiery temper could withstand the oppressive frost. Five campaigns over nine years. She had acquired too many scars and watched too many friends die before she realized that she wasn¡¯t the hero that every Victory knight dreamed of being. If they had managed to make even a little progress, spite might have kept her going but they never managed to carve out a single piece of that hell for themselves. Not a single meter.

    Five times she¡¯d dragged her battered body back home, guarding a train of wagons carrying her fallen comrades lest they be snatched by scavengers. Each time, she felt smaller beneath the looming mountains. Too small to dream she could scale them and slay their rulers.

    Once she stopped fighting, she contributed by teaching others but that only lasted five years. She couldn¡¯t continue sending her students, brilliant fighters who could be so much more than fodder for the orders or simple souls who just deserved better, to their deaths in vain. By then, she¡¯d had enough of Fort Victory and its grim atmosphere. She left, willing to go anywhere that wasn¡¯t shadowed by those damn mountains.

    She never made it too far. With little money, she became a hunter in Quest. The manabeasts of the kingdom were a joke compared to the cold hell she endured. She quickly became famous. Famous enough to draw the attention of the Hall.

    At first, the thought of teaching again made her leery. It took months of consideration before she realized that it was a chance to make amends. To keep her students from throwing their lives away and helping them become the legends they could be.

    Life at the Hall suited her. She ate warm meals, the closest the weather came to the horrible blizzards that plagued her nightmares were a few light summer drizzles, and the most dangerous thing she had to deal with was the occasional idiot. She taught one class; advanced casting geared toward fire casters. Her requirements were rather strict and she refused to compromise them. She didn¡¯t have enough students to justify her rather sizable income so she worked the Grand Watch, the Grand Hall¡¯s problem solvers, for half the week.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    A job she found she enjoyed more than teaching. The only people stupid enough to cause trouble at the Hall were¡­stupid people. Which led to several amusing situations. Annoying ones as well, which tended to include rich brats, but most shifts she spent in the shift commander¡¯s office with her feet kicked up, reading reports.

    She was in the middle of doing exactly that when someone knocked on the door, entering before she had a chance to call out. ¡°Hey, Boss. We might have a bit of a situation.¡±

    Alyssa scowled at Lane Macklemore, her right hand. A brat born and raised amongst the hunters of Quest who thought he wanted to spend his life fighting monsters. Seven years ago, she accepted him into her class as repayment for a favor. One look at him and she knew he wasn¡¯t a fighter. He was a stubborn bastard, though. A poor one too.

    Luckily, he¡¯d also signed up for a Magic Cooking class, something that put his talent with fire to use. She liked him enough to give him a chance and made him an assistant teacher under her, a position that got him access to a better place to stay, a better kitchen, and decent pay. An arrangement that should have lasted for a year or two but he remained at her side. She allowed it as he continued to make himself useful, figuring he would fly the coop when he was good and ready. Not to mention she saved a bundle on domestic services.

    ¡°Get on with it, Lane,¡± she replied without looking up, putting down another report from the previous shift.

    ¡°One of the pairs on patrol looped through the residential district and spotted something unusual. Signs of combat or at least wanton use of magic.¡±

    Alyssa sighed. She wished that large coefficients came with equally sized brains instead of egos. ¡°There are designated areas for spell demonstration and practice. Don¡¯t those idiots know they don¡¯t actually own those places?¡± She dropped her reports and stood up, slowly stretching. She ignored the way Lane averted his gaze. ¡°Who does the estate belong to?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s registered to the elf.¡±

    She stiffened, her well-honed instinct for trouble screaming at her. Not that she needed it. Her common sense was working just fine and it told her not to involve herself with that strange couple, no matter what anyone reported. It was just too bad that she had a job to do.

    Suspicious activity had to be investigated, especially for high profile targets like the only elf to openly visit the Harvest Kingdom in a few centuries. People had plans for that woman and if something happened to her on Alyssa¡¯s watch, it would mean an endless amount of trouble. Besides, she could only imagine what would give that long-eared monster trouble.

    ¡°Get a team together,¡± she grumbled as she retrieved her armor. In Victory, the orders preferred heavy armor, both to resist the unending waves of monsters and to keep warm. On the plains of the kingdom, that heavy armor was too cumbersome, so she switched to something lighter; thick leather that didn¡¯t hamper movement with metal gauntlets, armored boots, and a custom helm with a dark visor.

    Fire spells could get bright, which she had learned to count on. One of her favorite spells involved a brief high-intensity flame that was bright enough to blind anyone that looked directly at it. Most opponents instinctively closed their eyes. Not having to gave her a significant advantage. It also worked great for intimidating brats into behaving.

    When she walked from the office, Lane and five deputies, acolytes in need of money, waited for her, each in their own mishmash of armor. It was a little embarrassing for a security force to not have a standard for protection but if the Hall wouldn¡¯t cover it, she definitely wouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°Lane, pull the wheels around. As for the rest of you¡­¡± She eyed their barely contained smiles and shuffling limbs. ¡°I¡¯m sure you all know who we are about to visit,¡± she said slowly, lips twitching with her effort to hold back a sneer as they struggled to contain themselves.

    ¡°The famous Kierra Atainna. At her home, no less. No doubt, the rumor mill has been going strong and you¡¯re eager to contribute to it. But let me make one thing clear. You are not going to try anything on my shift. If any one of you tries something the slightest bit beyond the scope of our duties, I will slow roast you and feed you to the monsters in the Sanctuary. Understood?¡±

    They shouted their affirmatives, their excitement giving way to caution. Alyssa smiled in satisfaction. ¡°Good. A little background. Elves seem to have a very different culture from us. Luckily, they don¡¯t seem to care about the same pretentious ¡®courtesies¡¯ of the capital but step carefully. We don¡¯t know what this is and we don¡¯t want to accidentally offend this woman. Least of which because if you do, she can tear your heads from your shoulders and I won¡¯t be able to do a thing to stop her.¡±

    Another round of affirmatives followed, the deputies looking a touch uneasy. Just the way she wanted them.

    ¡°When we get there, you don¡¯t do a thing unless I tell you. Oh, and try to keep your distance from the girl Lourianne Tome. She is a noble and she seems to have a thing against men. Don¡¯t underestimate her because she¡¯s an initiate.¡± She didn¡¯t anticipate any problems but it was best to nip any possible sources in the bud.

    The door to their building opened and Lane stuck his head in. ¡°Wheels are ready, Boss.¡±

    ¡°You heard him. Let¡¯s go.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-42

    As soon as they arrived at the estate, Alyssa¡¯s lax attitude disappeared. It wasn¡¯t the scene of an accident or a spell gone wrong. It was the scene of a fight and a vicious one. The garden surrounding the house was completely scorched and she thought she could see damage to the house.

    Swearing, she hopped off the driver¡¯s bench of the carriage. ¡°Lane, you¡¯re with me. The rest of you, circle the estate. I want to know what happened here. If you see anyone out of place, spells first and questions later. Let¡¯s move.¡±

    She marched toward the front door, Lane at her back, while the others skirted around the estate. Her eyes were wide and quick, taking in every detail. What she saw worried her. The burned garden could be attributed to Lourianne Tome. It would beg the question why they were fighting but their marriage problems didn¡¯t fall under her responsibilities. However, if they were fighting a third individual, that certainly did. There were spots in the garden that looked like the earth had been gouged out, a usual sign of an earth affinity caster.

    Scowling, Alyssa reached the front door and raised her hand to knock but before it could come down, the door opened. She dropped her fist, taking in the boy standing before her. He reminded her of the servants that accompanied children of powerful noble houses with his immaculate appearance and unflappable demeanor. It was rare to see his level of calm in someone so young. The way he coldly evaluated them made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on in.

    ¡°Good evening.¡± The boy bowed his head marginally, showing respect but not going far enough to show subservience. ¡°I am Earl, the steward of this estate. May I know the reason for your sudden visit?¡±

    Her first thought was that his serious tone didn¡¯t suit his high voice. He looked too old for his voice not to have dropped and he seemed a bit short for his age. Signs that hinted at developmental problems, a condition that made no sense for the servant of a noble house.

    That wasn¡¯t the only thing wrong with the little steward. The main point being that he declared himself a steward. They were estate owners¡¯ right hands. They managed the house and, for the more trusted, some of their master¡¯s affairs, giving them power in their own right.

    The steward of a ducal house would be shown respect from high nobles. It was an honored position and she had never seen a boy claiming to have the title. Even a declining house like the Tomes had better offers than a brat who looked like he should be signing up for an initiate year.

    His uniform fit the bill but she¡¯d never seen a house that used purple for its house¡¯s colors. The dye was horrendously expensive for even a few embellishments, let alone a whole jacket. If her eyes didn¡¯t deceive her, the buttons were made from actual gold. The brat¡¯s jacket looked like it was worth a month of her salary. Neither one of the women should have that kind of money.

    All those thoughts flashed through her mind in a matter of seconds. ¡°Alyssa Filigree, an instructor and security officer of the Hall. Suspicious activity was reported at this location. We would like to come inside and ensure that everything is as it should be.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve come at an inconvenient time. The lady of the house has retired for the night and has asked not to be disturbed. I apologize for any inconvenience and assure you that everything is fine.¡±

    Alyssa¡¯s lips twitched with the effort it took to hold back her frown. The brat had dismissed her. Or at least, he tried. ¡°That¡¯s great but I¡¯m going to need to hear that from one of your bosses.¡±

    ¡°I have the power to speak for my lady.¡±

    ¡°Oi. Get out of the way boy and let me do my job.¡± She took a menacing step forward, using her height and glare to their full effect.

    The steward didn¡¯t give an inch, staring at her unflinchingly. ¡°Your job does not include trespassing on others¡¯ property. You are meant to investigate any crimes or infractions and detain the perpetrators for judgment. No crime has been committed and there are no criminals on the premises. Ergo, there is no cause for your presence. Please leave.¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where you think you are. This is the Hall. This estate is the Hall¡¯s property. I have been given the authority to maintain order in the Hall. That includes this house.¡±

    ¡°Part of the agreement when Mistress Kierra was given the estate gave her full rights to the property and its management as long as she is an instructor. That authority supersedes yours and can only be challenge by Grandmaster Dunwayne. Lest you have a written order by him, kindly remove yourself, Lady Filigree.¡±

    ¡°This bastard¡­¡± Lane muttered behind her. She agreed. Earl may be a boy but he had a man¡¯s pair ordering her to do anything. Or at least a decent head on his shoulders. ¡°You¡¯d be right¡­unless there¡¯s a present threat on the property.¡±

    ¡°I assure you there isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you I think there is and I¡¯m not going anywhere until I see for myself.¡±

    ¡°Then I am telling you, politely, that I will carry out my lady¡¯s order. No matter what.¡±

    His jaw was tight with determination. Alyssa was more than ready to test that will, her eyes glowing as she touched her mana. The arrival of her deputies interrupted her, the four men rushing up to her.

    ¡°Signs of a fight all throughout the garden,¡± one said in a grim tone. ¡°At least the fire, earth, and water affinities.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s damage to the house,¡± another said. ¡°A large hole on the upper floor, covered by a curtain.¡±

    ¡°No signs of forced ingress or egress. A crazy man stopped me from exploring the rear garden. Claimed to be a servant.¡±

    ¡°His name is Gajin and he is Lady Tome¡¯s gardener,¡± Earl confirmed. ¡°His warning is also valid. Those without extensive knowledge in botany are well-advised to stay away from the mistress¡¯ garden.¡±

    ¡°Enough! My deputies¡¯ words are more than enough reason to check the house.¡± He could be telling the truth. She could be wasting both their time but with such obvious signs of a struggle, she¡¯d be remiss if she didn¡¯t investigate. ¡°Get out of the way or I will move you.¡±

    Earl watched her steadily, judging her intent. Then he stepped forward, firmly closing the door behind him. ¡°I understand. I hope you also understand that I am also simply performing my duty.¡±

    ¡°¡­sure, kid.¡± She stepped back, gesturing with her hand. Two deputies stepped forward to subdue him. Alyssa might bluster but she didn¡¯t want to lay her hands on a brat.

    The last thing she expected was for the steward to lash out. She could barely track his movements as his palm hit one of the deputies in the throat, dropping him to his knees in a coughing fit.

    The second one reached for him but his arm was grabbed and twisted, drawing a squeal from his lips. The steward kicked his leg out from under him, grabbed him by the hair, and kneed him in the face. Her deputy dropped to the ground, his nose leaking blood.

    Alyssa stared at the deputies who¡¯d been dropped in seconds and the young teen standing over them as calm as a still pool. He had the gall to say, ¡°I don¡¯t recommend further violence,¡± while looking her in the eye.

    ¡°You don¡¯t, huh?¡± Recognizing her tone, Lane and the deputies took a large step back. Alyssa flipped down her visor. A large ball of orange-yellow fire appeared over her head. ¡°Sure you want to do this? You¡¯re going to get hurt.¡±

    Earl remained quiet.

    ¡°Your ass.¡± The ball of fire over her head shrunk as it brightened, becoming white hot. She threw it forward and detonated it.

    A wave of heat and pressure washed over her but fine control kept it from burning her or the deputies on the ground. The other two behind her had used their respective affinities to shield themselves, while Lane ducked behind her.

    To her surprise, the steward had also dodged the attack. He balanced on the slight protrusion over the doorway with one foot, the other extended for balance. The only damage on his person his slightly singed pants leg.

    Steward her ass. If he wasn¡¯t the son of a high noble trained from birth to be an asset, pigs will fly in the morning.

    ¡°Lane!¡±

    ¡°On it, Boss!¡± Six arrows of flame appeared around him before shooting off. The boy leaped from his perch, taking off the second his feet touched the ground. She had taught Lane herself so he was no slouch. With impressive control, he altered the flight of his spells, angling them toward the boy, but Earl was still easily able to dodge.

    ¡°You can¡¯t get away that easily!¡±

    A large ball of flame appeared over his head before morphing into a hazy serpent. ¡°Let¡¯s see you run from this!¡± he shouted as the snake shot forward, its ¡®jaw¡¯ wide enough to swallow the boy had it been a real creature. Earl dodged but the spell followed him, singeing the ground as it twisted and thrashed while trying to catch the nimble boy.

    While keeping ahead of it, the steward opened his jacket with a powerful yank, revealing a vest holstering a dozen knives. He pulled one and threw it, the blade aimed for Lane¡¯s throat.

    One of the deputies stepped into its path, holding up his arms. The metal gauntlets he wore expanded into a shield that deflected the knife, protecting Lane who was too absorbed in controlling his spell.

    The remaining deputy rushed toward his fellows, checking on them.

    ¡°Get that brat under control!¡± Alyssa shouted as she stomped toward the door. Annoyed from the attack and genuinely concerned, she didn¡¯t hesitate to kick down the door.

    ¡°Grrrrrr.¡±

    She looked down to see a young girl with a fluffy head of blond hair and dangerous eyes staring at her.

    ¡°¡­don¡¯t you fucking try it, brat.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-43

    If she couldn¡¯t hear the hiss of Lane¡¯s spell and the deputies¡¯ curses as they fought against what had to be a master assassin who¡¯d disguised himself as a skinny boy, Alyssa might have been fooled by the little girl. As it was, she wasn¡¯t taking any chances. There was no telling what was hiding in that tiny body.

    And those eyes. They belonged to a stray animal, not a child who didn¡¯t reach her waist.

    It suddenly occurred to her that she was in the home of a summoner. The things she thought were children might not be. The thought spurred her tension to another level and a ball of flame appeared in her hand. ¡°I swear to the saints¡ª¡±

    ¡°I was wondering who knocked down my door.¡±

    Alyssa looked up¡­and immediately wished she hadn¡¯t. Walking down the stairs like a princess announced at a royal ball was Lourianne Tome. The silky robe she wore was at least two sizes too small and the loose knot of its ties meant every sway of her hips threatened to reveal more than Alyssa wanted to see. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t avert her gaze as it would mean taking her eyes off the little devil that looked like she wanted to gouge her eyes out. She had to settle for a scowl.

    Lou smiled as she came off the last step. ¡°It turned out to be Miss Alyssa. I like the¡­aggressive entrance.¡±

    The girl¡¯s words practically dripped with suggestion. She didn¡¯t know Lou well but each consecutive time they met, Alyssa felt she became more shameless. Their genders aside, she couldn¡¯t help feeling unnerved having someone a third of her age, and married at that, try to seduce her so openly.

    Maybe an infinitely small part of her, one so small she could easily be imagining it, found it flattering that someone married to Kierra would also be interested in her. A part that had no sway on her decision making. Unlike her rapidly growing anxiety that had her on the edge of dousing the room in fire.

    ¡°Oi, Tome girl. You need to start explaining things right now. No, first, call off that monster outside.¡± If she couldn¡¯t, then Alyssa would know something was wrong.

    ¡°Monster?¡±

    ¡°Fuck! Look outside.¡±

    Brows slightly furrowed in confusion, Lou walked toward the door, cracking it open. Alyssa heard her cough in surprise, before clearing her throat. ¡°Earl, that¡¯s enough. See our guests in.¡±

    She stepped away from the door wearing a sheepish smile. ¡°It seems my steward has caused a bit of trouble for you. You can hardly blame him, barging in the way you did. A bit boorish, hm? Don¡¯t worry, I like brash women too. Look at my wife, ha!¡±

    ¡°I wish you wouldn¡¯t joke.¡± It made her feel ridiculous taking the situation so seriously.

    The door opened and the steward trooped in with his head bowed. His immaculate appearance was ruined, his violet uniform torn, burned, and shredded. Half of his left pants leg was gone and his dark hair was tousled, obscuring his eyes.

    The deputies that followed him were in better shape but looked haggard, which was still embarrassing. Especially since they hadn¡¯t managed to subdue a single boy. They could all feel her glare and tactfully avoided her gaze. Lane went as far as to hunch his shoulders and put the other deputies between them.

    ¡°My lady¡­¡±

    ¡°Alright, what¡¯s this?¡± Alyssa got her wish. Lou was no longer smiling as she beckoned her steward to her. She took in his appearance with a slight frown. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t able to follow your order to not be disturbed,¡± the boy said softly, as if reporting a bad evaluation from his tutor to his mother.

    As the situation calmed down, Alyssa realized her situation was quite bad. Her people had ganged up on a young boy after he asked them to leave while she burst into the house, magic blazing, only to find that the boy hadn¡¯t been lying and there really wasn¡¯t a threat. She still felt justified but not finding a threat made things¡­tricky. She felt slightly nauseous knowing she might have to do some groveling to the young noble to avoid a bigger incident.

    ¡°Miss Alyssa, I didn¡¯t know you liked bullying children.¡± After Earl finished his story, Lou turned her attention toward the instructor, clearly unhappy. ¡°Care to explain? Before I draw my own conclusions.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who needs to do the explaining. Why does your home look like a small battlefield?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe I¡¯m obliged to explain my private affairs. I wish someone would have explained that a little re-decorating would give people the idea they are welcome to break down my door whenever they damn well please."

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Alyssa frowned at the cold tone. A creak made her eyes snap to the stairs and she saw one of the girl¡¯s elementals lightly coming down, long tail slowly whipping through the air. The sensible thing to do would be to de-escalate the situation. After all, if the young boy guarding her front door was most likely an orphan trained by one of the dark guilds, there was no telling what the thing pulled from another realm, a known shapeshifter, was hiding under that delicate fa?ade.

    However, she knew a challenge when she saw one and she¡¯d die before she let a brat intimidate her. ¡°If you want to blast giant holes in your walls without people thinking you¡¯re fighting for your life, maybe put a sign in your yard. Oh, that would have been ashes too. Guessing that was your work.¡±

    ¡°The situation demanded it.¡± To Alyssa¡¯s relief, not that she¡¯d ever admit it, Lou¡¯s shoulders relaxed as she sighed. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing it was you, Miss Alyssa. I doubt I¡¯d be so understanding if it were anyone else.¡±

    ¡°You mean if it wasn¡¯t a woman you fancied.¡±

    The girl had the gall to smile. ¡°Guilty as charged but my wife tells me it¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m easy to please, haha!¡± The smile dimmed. ¡°Seriously though, never do this again. I¡¯m not joking. If anyone else had walked through the door¡­¡±

    She didn¡¯t have to say the words. They would have been dead. Alyssa was a little surprised to feel subdued killing intent from her, the kind of pressure only someone who had taken lives and had no problem doing it again could emit. ¡°If a disturbance happens¡ª¡±

    ¡°If there is a problem that can¡¯t be solved between me and my wife, an instructor and her lackeys aren¡¯t going to be able to do a saints damn thing. You¡¯d be better off running for Dunwayne if you¡¯re really concerned.¡±

    The instructor grunted in response, unable to contradict her. ¡°Yeah, well, take it up with the big boss. Right now, I need to clear the house. Are you going to call off your dogs?¡± Her gaze moved to Earl, then to Anna, before pointedly stopping on Geneva.

    Lou walked over to the little girl and put a hand on the haystack someone might mistake for hair. Her low growling stopped and she looked at her benefactor with wide eyes. Lou smiled indulgently and pat her head a few times before ushering her toward her steward. ¡°Earl, clean yourself up and get yourselves something sweet. You both deserve it. Anything else can wait for tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°As you say.¡±

    The air loss quite a bit of its tension as the boy took his sister¡¯s hand and led her into the kitchen. Her deputies finally relaxed as their opponent disappeared, the tension leaving their bodies.

    ¡°Miss Alyssa, I assume you won¡¯t be happy until you see my wife and our bedroom?¡±

    ¡°At least.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s get this over with. Your dogs can stay downstairs. I¡¯m not sure if they¡¯re housebroken.¡±

    Alyssa scoffed, her lips turning up a little bit. ¡°Fair.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Boss¡­¡±

    She sneered at the visibly disappointed Lane and the other deputies who worked to keep their wishes off their faces. The bastards couldn¡¯t even do their jobs and they still wanted the benefits? For a moment, she wished she was once again in a knight order. If she was, she could beat the idiots to her heart¡¯s content. As a law-abiding instructor of the Grand Hall, the most she could do was sneer at them as she moved toward the stairs. ¡°Sit. Good dogs.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to say it like that,¡± Lane said with a sigh.

    ¡°I suggest you listen,¡± she heard Lou say behind her. ¡°This servant won¡¯t be as easy to handle as a young boy. Move from this room and you die.¡±

    Her tone held finality and garnered reluctant respect from the instructor as they ascended the steps. Lou slid ahead of her and Alyssa had to point her gaze toward the ceiling to see something she shouldn¡¯t, cursing the perverted girl in her mind as she did.

    ¡°Our bedroom. Please, inspect it at your leisure.¡±

    Alyssa stepped through as Lou held the door and immediately froze. She wouldn¡¯t have known if there was a dragon in the room let alone a threat as all of her attention was immediately occupied by the naked elf lying on the bed. Her hand snapped up but not fast enough. She could still see everything on the back of her eyelids. Alyssa let out a stream of curses before shouting, ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you two perverts?!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who insisted on seeing my bedroom without caring about what you were interrupting.¡± Lou laughed. ¡°Want to see the bath too?¡±

    Alyssa debated setting the whole house ablaze. With a hiss of annoyance, she settled for not removing the hand over her eyes before she left the house.

    ¡°Oh? Is that Ally?¡± Kierra called in a husky voice. ¡°How unexpected. You¡¯re very welcome, of course.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she replied drily. ¡°I¡¯ll settle for an explanation.¡±

    ¡°Miss Alyssa thought we¡¯d been attacked,¡± Lou replied in a similarly sarcastic tone.

    ¡°Yes, I heard the commotion. If you like, we can do joint training for your¡­dogs. It¡¯s quite embarrassing having your hunting hounds played with by a pup.¡±

    ¡°Not so much if you¡¯ve been working with him.¡± She might have to go easier on her deputies if so.

    Kierra had a pure physical affinity. Nothing related to the mysteries of life and the body were beyond her reach. The elf had never confirmed it, but rumors circulating through the higher circles said she could be one of the famed melders, able to rebuild a man into a god. If she did dabble in the art, she¡¯d be unparalleled. It would explain why someone so young he probably didn¡¯t have hair on his balls could compete with several trained acolytes.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t put a finger on the boy.¡±

    All of her understanding went down the drain. She resolved herself to make reforms in the Grand Watch. At the very least she¡¯d get them some damn uniforms. ¡°That explanation. And please make it something I can put in my report.¡±

    ¡°Really, making such a big deal out of a little foreplay. The defenders of the Hall are a little too sheltered,¡± Kierra said with a chuckle.

    Foreplay. ¡°¡­I¡¯m leaving.¡± And she promised herself to never come back.

    ¡°You might want to move that hand before going down the steps!¡± Lou called as she turned on her heel. Alyssa stumbled but caught the railing, refusing to move her hand. She compromised once she was at the bottom of the steps, glaring at her deputies that stared at her with obvious confusion. ¡°What are you idiots staring at?¡± she growled. ¡°We¡¯re leaving!¡±

    ¡°One moment,¡± the thrall called. She disappeared into the kitchen and emerged carrying a bottle of Herbanacle. Alyssa¡¯s mood improved by leaps and bounds as the bottle was placed in her hands. ¡°A small gift for your trouble.¡±

    ¡­well, maybe she could come again. After announcing herself. Give the perverts plenty of time to put it back in their pants.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-44

    I wake to Kierra caressing my neck with a finger. Noticing my blinking eyes, her hand grabs my chin and tilts it up so she can kiss me. ¡°Morning~¡± she whispers after several long moments.

    I respond by kissing her. She returns it eagerly, rolling on top of me. I let her, having already taken plenty of liberties with her the previous night. My submission spurs her on as her kiss becomes sloppy, her tongue forcing its way past my lips. Her hand wastes no time fondling my bare chest as the other slips between my legs.

    She swallows my squeal as two fingers roughly push past my folds, expertly finding my most sensitive spots and ¡®massaging¡¯ them relentlessly. I can¡¯t help bucking against her. She responds by pressing our bodies together, aggressively pinning me to the sheets.

    I suck in a deep breath as she leaves our kiss to trail her lips over my neck. Once she reaches my collarbone, her tongue licks its way up to my ear, her teeth not-so-gently nipping me as she adds a third finger.

    ¡°Mmm!¡± Damn woman laughs as I arch toward her, still suppressed by her body. I tremble as I try to hold back my pleasure, flinching each time her teeth dig into my skin. It¡¯s a losing battle and I know any moment¡ª

    My thoughts are disturbed as she suddenly stops. My hooded eyes shoot open and I give her a questioning gaze as she raises her fingers to her mouth and slowly licks them clean.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tease me, my heart,¡± I gasp, feeling frustrated. ¡°Or I won¡¯t let you play.¡±

    ¡°My Lou has gotten so bold~ Then, don¡¯t forget. It¡¯s my turn to play.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you want.¡± As long as you do something. The fire below my navel is threatening to burn away my reason. I won¡¯t be responsible for my actions if she doesn¡¯t satisfy me soon.

    ¡°You said it so I won¡¯t be polite.¡± Wearing a smile a touch too wide, she lowers her head. She kisses the valley between my breasts before trailing the tip of her tongue down my belly and between my legs. My hands instinctively grab her head, fingers twisting and gripping her silver hair. I sigh as her tongue traces my folds before dipping inside. My fingers rake over her scalp as she eats me, the dampening heat in my navel once again gaining momentum. I almost peak as she pulls out and kisses the head of my ¡®gift¡¯, shuddering and moaning as she alternates teasing it to erectness and noisily slurping at my entrance.

    I swear as my climax sneaks up on me, losing control of my body as the pleasure tears through me. It¡¯s a bit uncomfortable as Kierra domineeringly holds me down with one hand, my twitching limbs unable to resist her strength. The other hand moves my tense legs over her shoulders, giving her more freedom as she continues to tease me.

    Focusing on my ¡®gift¡¯, her tongue teases it from its hood until she can wrap her lips around it, gently sucking the engorged meat like it¡¯s a sweet candy. Her arms go around my waist, holding me still as she enjoys her treat, ignoring poor me who¡¯s suffering from overstimulation as I orgasm back to back because of the incredibly sensitive organ. When my moaning turns to broken screams, she finally stops.

    My cock is fully erect, glistening from head to base with her saliva. Kierra didn¡¯t let a drop of my cum escape her. Her face is a dark green from her blush and her eyes are glazed from my bodies effects. She moves up, pressing my legs against my chest as she kisses along my collarbone. ¡°Let¡¯s play a game, dedia,¡± she says sweetly.

    My heart pounds from a mix of fear and excitement. ¡°I don¡¯t usually like your games.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll like this one.¡± She leans forward to kiss me, slow and unhurried. ¡°I can¡¯t stop thinking about your words yesterday,¡± she whispers against my lips.

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    ¡°Which ones?¡±

    ¡°Our daughters~¡±

    Daughters? More than one? ¡°You sound eager.¡±

    ¡°I am. Elves are not the same as the other races. We didn¡¯t naturally evolve into our state. We were created. And while the Great Spirit gave us many gifts, I don¡¯t believe it understood procreation among mortals. It is quite difficult for female elves to become pregnant and males are not very fertile. A disadvantage countered by our long lifespans. It is why we take multiple partners. It takes a bit of compatibility for elves to successfully have a child and even more, hm, shall we say effort.

    ¡°But you.¡± My wife flashes me a manic smile, the one she wears when she¡¯s planning something troublesome. ¡°You¡¯re different.¡± A fingers trails over my chest, the slightest bit of pain telling me she¡¯s this close to breaking the skin. ¡°This body¡­you optimized it for me, yes?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    She laughs heartily. ¡°A fertile partner perfectly suited for me. Elven women across the provinces would cry if they ever knew.¡± Her eyes are more gold than green in the morning light as she stares down at me. ¡°Be careful, dedia. If your secret gets out, there will be a bloodbath as never recorded in our history, because I won¡¯t let them have you.¡±

    I lick my lips. Is it wrong that hearing her threatening genocide on her own people out of jealously is exciting me? Yes? Oh, well. There was no redeeming me after meeting this elf.

    ¡°Our clan will be quite fearsome in the future.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you as many daughters as you want,¡± I promise. Fucking my wife day and day out so she can bear my children is a great sacrifice but I will bear it. The lengths people will go to for love have no bounds, myself included.

    ¡°Yessss. But I was thinking we¡¯d make things¡­interesting.¡±

    My wild fantasies of bending over my pregnant wife are interrupted by her finger poking my stomach. I suddenly feel cold, a shiver running down my spine at the look she gives me. ¡°Tell me, Lou¡­was this part of you improved as well?¡±

    Surely she doesn¡¯t mean¡­ ¡°I, uh, I¡¯m not sure.¡± Geneva said she could make me capable of procreating with other races but when the conversation turned to my ¡®gift¡¯, I assumed that we were solely speaking about me doing the impregnating. I didn¡¯t put any mind to my own ability to be a mother.

    [Of course, my summoner. I am quite thorough.]

    My succubus¡¯ voice enters my head, filling me with dread. I can tell from the way Kierra slightly tilts her head that she¡¯s also hearing Geneva¡¯s voice. She nods sharply before looking back to me, a trace of menace in her gaze. ¡°Are you ready to hear about my game?¡±

    I swallow nervously. ¡°Actually, my team will be coming soon. I should get the house prepared¡ªmmphf!¡±

    She shuts me up by abruptly shoving her fingers in my mouth and pinching my tongue. ¡°The rules of the game are very simple. We each take turns¡­¡± I gurgle around her fingers has her opposite hand grabs my cock in painful grip before moving lower. ¡°The winner is the first to knock up the other.¡± Her smile impossibly stretches wider. ¡°And a game is nothing without stakes. Loser¡­has the next three daughters.¡±

    The next three?! Fuck! I know I said I¡¯d give her as many daughters as she wants but this isn¡¯t exactly what I was thinking!

    She laughs as I squirm beneath her. ¡°No need to look so nervous! A chimera like you with so many deviations throughout your body is going to have an even more difficult chance of bearing a child than even the most barren elf. I only dare to make such a bet because of my pure affinity. Don¡¯t worry~ Neither one of us can cheat. Natural is the only way that counts.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t even considering that possibility! She better not cheat or I swear to Cosmo, she¡¯ll be giving birth to a hundred daughters in as many years!

    Sigh. And if I¡¯m worried about her cheating, I¡¯m already considering playing. Saints, of course I am with her wet pussy pressed against my throbbing member, slowly grinding against me as she lures me into her trap. Evil woman. She knows exactly what she¡¯s doing with that look. I¡¯ve never been able to resist her challenging me. Daring me.

    Hmph! I¡¯ve got confidence in the prime form I spent so long designing. More importantly, she didn¡¯t say we couldn¡¯t alter our forms further, since I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s planning on doing so. You¡¯ve overestimated that affinity of yours this time, Kii.

    My tongue coils around her fingers as I aggressively suckle them, showing my agreement with my eyes.

    She coos at me. ¡°That¡¯s a good girl. Then, since you¡¯ve given me leave to do ¡®what I want¡¯¡­I¡¯ll be going first~¡±

    Huh? Oh saints, don¡¯t tell me she means¡ª

    My questions are answered when I feel something hot pressing against my entrance. She licks her lips, grabbing my waist as I struggle more out of reflex than any attempt to protest. ¡°Mm. I¡¯ve rarely had the chance to be on this end, hm? Such a primal act¡­I tend to lose myself a little. People tend to¡­break.¡±

    Haha. Break, she says.

    ¡­saints save me.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-45

    Alana¡¯s day started off as it always did. Habit woke her up before dawn and she fought the possessive hands of sleep to get out of bed. The room offered to her by the Hall was by no means luxurious. It had enough space for a small bed, a single dresser, and room to walk between them. Clumsy hands riffled through her dresser and changed her clothes. An old chest at the foot of the bed held her equipment.

    She picked up her sword with a fond smile. It was nothing special, a simple steel blade with several nicks along the edge and a plain wooden hilt. Not a weapon most would be proud to show off, but it was the blade that had changed her life. Her teacher had given it to her after she¡¯d received a letter from the Hall offering her a free education.

    Every time she looked at it, it reminded her that her life could be, and would be, more than catering to a family that had denied her existence for majority of her life. That she could live with honor donned in armor and swinging a blade as opposed to the other bastards of the James family who could look forward to donning servant uniforms and wielding brooms.

    As always, the thought cleared her head and filled her with energy. She quickly put on her armor and strapped her sword to her waist before leaving her room.

    Few were awake at the early hour. Young servants slinked through the halls, preparing for the day. They dipped their heads in greeting if they noticed her but no one stopped to exchange words. She didn¡¯t hold it against them. The Bronze Dorm housed the most students. The accommodations may be minimal but they still were responsible for the care of hundreds.

    The thin walls allowed her to hear a few others starting their day, mainly in ways that made her flush and quicken her steps. The cool morning air quickly distracted her from the shameful behavior of others. The crisp breeze was both refreshing and oppressive, bringing back memories of her childhood home. No matter how many fires burned, Fort Victory could never escape the chill of winter.

    She thought the constant cold explained why their knights trained so hard, desperate to feel the slightest warmth even at the expense of their battered bodies.

    Circling around to the back of the dorm, she drew her blade and took a stance, both hands on the hilt of her sword as she held it straight in front of her. Slowly, she raised her arms and brought it down in a simple chop, focused on controlling the blade at every moment. Her teacher always told her, any fool could swing a blade with all their might and kill a man. What separated a knight from a brute was control. Control came from technique and techniques were built from practice. From the day her teacher took her in, she had never missed a day of practice.

    Over and over, she repeated that single chop until she reached a count of a hundred. Then she cycled through a diagonal slash, a horizontal slash, an upward slash, and a forward thrust, doing a hundred repetitions each. Then she practiced combinations, feints, and combining them with movement.

    By the time she finished, the sun was starting to rise and she was drenched in sweat. Alana sheathed her sword and hurried back into the dorm, eager to use the communal bath before it got crowded.

    The one thing she didn¡¯t like about her new life was the lack of space. She didn¡¯t have any before, sharing a one-bedroom house with her mother until she was twelve and bunking with her fellow recruits once her teacher found her. It was something she¡¯d hoped would change at the Hall but money always mattered. A large home with a bath she could swim in and not be disturbed by anyone was just another thing she had to wait for until she became a famous knight.

    By time she showered and changed, the dorm was in full swing, doors banging open and closed as a stampede of people moved through the halls. The neighboring door opened and Marthe stepped out dressed in a short, red skirt and a sleeveless white shirt. Without any witnesses, the scorn that normally colored her expression was gone, leaving behind a cute young woman with a little bit of baby fat on her face.

    ¡°Morning,¡± Alana called, taking a few quick steps to reach her side and putting a hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°Hey. Breakfast?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no way. We¡¯re eating at Lou¡¯s, trust me.¡±

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    ¡°That good?¡±

    ¡°Depends on if she lets Geo loose but it¡¯s definitely better than eating here.¡±

    Marthe scoffed. ¡°¡­you¡¯re going to get yourself in trouble.¡±

    ¡°Hm? What are you talking about?¡±

    The redhead eyed her dubiously. ¡°This¡­thing between the two of you. Being pursued by a noble. It never ends well.¡±

    ¡°Have you forgotten I¡¯m a noble too?¡±

    ¡°Not yet. You¡¯re not like them.¡±

    Alana didn¡¯t know why her friend hated nobles. She¡¯d never found a good opportunity, as it was clearly something personal. Their friendship wasn¡¯t one where she felt comfortable probing the other girl¡¯s pain. ¡°I¡¯m not. And neither is Lou.¡±

    Marthe laughed drily. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s not. Only the saints know if she¡¯s better or worse.¡±

    Alana¡¯s mouth opened to defend her friend but the words stalled in her throat. Lou certainly wasn¡¯t a bad person but she didn¡¯t know if she could say she was a good person. Rather than integrity, Alana felt that her friend hadn¡¯t erred because the situation hadn¡¯t called for it.

    Flashes of memory entered her mind. A large bed, her blurry vision just able to make out two figures entwined atop it. A tanned woman with short dark hair moaning under¡ª

    Alana viciously shoved the memories aside. ¡°Lou¡¯s not a good person but she¡¯s not someone you need to be worried about. Otherwise, she¡¯d never put up with your constant needling.¡±

    Marthe grinned. ¡°Heh. She¡¯s just a big softy, isn¡¯t she?¡±

    Alana stiffened as the memories she worked so hard not think about loudly contradicted her. ¡°Eh-hem. Ah, let¡¯s hurry up. We might have to do some convincing to get Lou to feed us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d thought she¡¯d jump at the opportunity to dine us.¡±

    ¡°If it were just us, I¡¯m sure she would have but William and his pig are coming.¡± Lou¡¯s proclivities were well-known throughout the Hall but her aversion to the opposite gender wasn¡¯t. Alana thought it was a little funny how unsympathetic toward men Lou could be. Mainly because she didn¡¯t think she had anything against them. Lou cared so much for women, especially beautiful ones, she didn¡¯t have any care left for the hairier sex.

    They walked together toward the residential district, Marthe becoming more uncomfortable the larger the houses became. By time they reached Lou¡¯s home, she was as stiff as block of wood but it wasn¡¯t simply because of her aversion to money. The burned out garden and visible damage to the house made her grab her sword and hurry toward the two figures standing at the edge of the property. ¡°William!¡±

    William turned around. ¡°Goo¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi, blondie! This how the place usually looks?¡± Arthur interrupted in his usual bellow.

    Alana sneered at him. ¡°Yes, because burned battlefield is in style right now. Move, you idiot.¡± She had originally wanted to ask them if they saw what happened but that comment clearly showed they were just as clueless. Alana didn¡¯t think that anything could happen to Lou while Kierra was home but she couldn¡¯t quell her reflexive worry as she hurried toward the house.

    Worry that spiked when she noticed the broken door. ¡°Lou!¡± she shouted, not bothering to be polite as she dashed inside, the other members of her team right behind her.

    ¡°Miss Alana!¡±

    Alana relaxed as Earl exited the kitchen with a smile. For some reason, his usual purple jacket was replaced with a black one, something she¡¯d never seen before, but he seemed to be in good health. ¡°Hey, Earl. Everything alright?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Mistress was just having a bit of fun.¡±

    The confirmation eased Alana¡¯s anxiety, replacing it with exasperation. ¡°Should have seen that coming.¡± She could only blame herself for taking anything that happened with Lou seriously.

    ¡°Are these the other members of your team?¡±

    Alana looked over her shoulder. William was casually taking in the house while Arthur and Marthe were focused on Earl; one with boredom and the other with a furrowed brow. ¡°Yes. Earl, this is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Miss Marthe, Lord William, and¡­Arthur.¡±

    She didn¡¯t blink at his surprising insight. ¡°Team, this is Earl, Lou¡¯s steward.¡±

    Earl bowed elegantly. ¡°If there¡¯s anything you need, don¡¯t hesitate to ask.¡±

    ¡°What in the deep is up with this brat?¡± Arthur snarled. ¡°You don¡¯t feel right.¡±

    The young steward looked at him steadily. ¡°I am a simple servant and you are a reluctant guest of my lady¡ª¡±

    ¡°What do you mean reluctant, ah?¡±

    ¡°As such, you have nothing to fear from me. Breakfast is currently being prepared and will be served in the garden. There is no need to worry¡ª¡±

    He was interrupted by a heavy thump and a muffled scream.

    The room collectively looked toward the ceiling as a series of thumps followed, each louder than the last.

    ¡°Ah.¡± William broke the awkward silence with a hesitant tone. ¡°Is everything¡­¡±

    ¡°I assure you, everything is fine. The lady is simply getting ready for the day.¡±

    The banging above them grew louder along with the voice. Arthur chuckled and the sound filled Alana with dread. She had a good idea what was going but couldn¡¯t help straining her ears, trying to make out more details, unconsciously moving toward the stairs.

    ¡°¡­ah¡­.ahhhh¡­AHHH, FUCK! FUCK ME KIIIAAAAAHHHHHHHH¡ª¡±

    ¡°Miss Alana?¡±

    Alana jumped, hand snapping out to grab the railing as she found her balance. Her face flushed red as a cherry as she realized she was almost halfway up the steps, the room watching her with questioning eyes. ¡°I, uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we should all move to the garden while we wait for my lady to get ready? The table has already been prepared.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, uh, uh-huh. Good idea.¡± She leaped off the stairs as if they¡¯d caught fire, ignoring the other members of her team. ¡°And tell that degenerate to hurry up!¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-46

    ¡°I say we grab her ourselves,¡± Arthur said, moving toward the stairs. ¡°Our teammate seems to be in distress. It¡¯s the right thing to do.¡±

    William looked at him aghast. His eyes clearly wanted to ask, ¡®Since when do you care about the right thing?¡¯ but he defaulted to a polite response. ¡°It would be boorish for men to intrude on a lady¡¯s bedroom.¡±

    ¡°That don¡¯t sound like no lady, heh.¡± He smacked William¡¯s shoulder, making him stumble forward. ¡°Come on, Will. Underneath all that pomp, there¡¯s a man somewhere. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re not curious.¡±

    William cleared his throat and averted his eyes, face flushed.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going up those stairs,¡± Alana said in a steely voice.

    ¡°Want to keep all the action for yourself? Hahaha!¡±

    Not for the first time, Alana lamented that the laws of the kingdom prevented her from stabbing people for being annoying. She used to think that Lou was a lecherous beast but for all her flirting and innuendo, she was harmless. Alana would go as far as to say courteous. Unquestionably generous. She may chase women like a dog in heat but she respected them and cared for them, perhaps a touch too much. Alana dreaded the day a woman like Cecilia Rosefield latched onto her friend and leeched her dry.

    Arthur seemed to have a lust that rivaled Lou¡¯s but his advances felt dirty. At the very least, creepy. Every time he openly undressed her with his eyes and laughed to himself, she wanted to simultaneously cut off his smug smile and take a bath. The man came off as the opposite of harmless. He was not the type of person she¡¯d want to meet on a dark street with no witnesses about. If it weren¡¯t for the qualifiers and William¡¯s persistent recommendation, she would never associate with him.

    ¡°William¡¯s right. It¡¯s beyond unseemly to march into someone¡¯s bedroom. Especially when they¡¯re¡­occupied.¡± She coughed, keenly aware of the noise coming from above that everyone was tacitly ignoring. It was a little hard to speak on manners and etiquette when the lady of the house was enjoying herself so vocally. ¡°You try, you never walk again.¡± Her hand went to the hilt of her sword. Arthur¡¯s wide smile said what he thought about her threat. Alana¡¯s eyes glowed as she touched her mana, steeling herself for a fight.

    The kitchen door swinging open interrupted the tension. Alana sniffed and couldn¡¯t help turning as a large metal cart was wheeled through the room by a small imp. It paused in the center of the room before turning to them and letting out a cute, ¡°Coo~¡±. Then it continued pushing the cart.

    ¡°Breakfast is ready,¡± Earl announced, further damaging the violent tension. ¡°If you would all please follow me?¡±

    Marthe walked directly between them, scoffing as she passed. ¡°It¡¯s also pretty rude to spill blood on someone¡¯s floor,¡± she said drily.

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re the last one who should be lecturing anyone about being rude,¡± Alana grumbled but her eyes lost their glow and her hand left the hilt of her sword. She glared at Arthur as she passed, led by the nose by the smell of breakfast.

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    A long table had been set up at the back of the estate, close to the tree line that marked Kierra¡¯s personal garden. There was little fire damage here. With the simple white tablecloth and colorful bouquet as a centerpiece, it was easy to imagine there was no damage at all.

    Alana quickly took an end seat, waiting with anticipation while Earl fixed plates. The moment one was placed in front of her, the fluffy eggs, crisp bacon, and buttery bread made her forget about everything else. Vague sounds of enjoyment touched her ears but she was too absorbed in her own happy stomach. No matter how much she shoveled down, she wanted more.

    The saints knew the food was downright devilish, corrupting her with its addictive taste. She wouldn¡¯t let Lou get away with half the things she did if she weren¡¯t constantly plied with the otherworldly taste. Something that might have worried her before but she couldn¡¯t give up the elementals¡¯ cooking now.

    ¡°Oh, everybody¡¯s really here. That¡¯s good.¡±

    Alana looked up as Lou wobbled toward them. Truly wobbled, as if her legs didn¡¯t have the strength to support her. The erotic moans from earlier came to mind and Alana flushed as she mentally berated herself.

    While she struggled to control her thoughts, Lou dropped into the seat next to her with a sigh. Earl was immediately at her side with a plate of food. She patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Thanks. Leave the rest to Bell, huh? You¡¯ve got to get the house ready for the deliveries.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Then excuse me, my lady.¡±

    Alana peeked at Lou as her friend gobbled down the food like she hadn¡¯t eaten in a month, completely foregoing any manners. ¡°Are you, eh-hem, prepared for us to practice?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± Lou swallowed her current mouthful and wiped her lips with a napkin. ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll be fine in a bit. She didn¡¯t break my back, ha.¡± Her body shook. ¡°Though it was close. Ugh.¡±

    Alana licked her lips. Her reason was screaming at her to keep her mouth closed but it seemed to lose sway whenever she was around her friend. Lou¡¯s languid posture and hooded eyes pricked her curiosity and before she realized it, she was speaking. ¡°What¡­what exactly, uh¡­¡±

    She swallowed as Lou stared at her, lips turning up in a smirk. She felt her friend¡¯s eyes were a cheat. The exotic color made it impossible to look away when they were focused on someone. Alana helplessly leaned forward, practically hypnotized, and Lou followed.

    ¡°So, you want the details again, huh? You¡¯re really a pervert, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± She almost reflexively said she didn¡¯t want to know but she had asked this time. All she could do was swallow and endure the embarrassment that felt like it would burn her alive.

    Lou¡¯s smile widened, showing a hint of teeth. Then she leaned back. ¡°Not telling~¡±

    Alana¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What?¡± She didn¡¯t believe Lou wouldn¡¯t take the chance to brag. She checked the sky to make sure a dragon wasn¡¯t going to appear or the sun wasn¡¯t falling, events she considered equally impossible.

    ¡°We can discuss it at length when you spend the night~¡± She grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll even give you a demonstration if you want.¡±

    ¡°Saints damn pervert,¡± she growled.

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a compliment!¡± The familiar words made her smile. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m not going to lose our bet.¡±

    ¡°You really are. I don¡¯t know why you think I¡¯m stupid. I¡¯m quite a devoted scholar, you know. Far more than you, steelhead.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± Alana grumbled. ¡°And if you¡¯re a scholar, a dog is a king.¡±

    ¡°Hey, if it can get the job done.¡± Lou scraped down the last of her breakfast and stood up. Alana blinked, looking at her own half-finished plate.

    She¡¯d forgotten about the food when they started talking.

    The realization made her stomach do an uncomfortable flip.

    ¡°Come on, people. Let¡¯s get this training or whatever over with so I can get back to my wife. Ah, Alana, you¡¯re free to stay as long as you want.¡±

    Her heart bloomed with happiness as she outwardly sneered. ¡°Who would want to?!¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-47

    If I were any less shameless than I am, I¡¯d be too embarrassed to stand in front of my team after they no doubt heard my wife railing me. Probably felt it too. Our bed is sturdy and I know the house suffered from the frame slamming into the walls. Saints, that woman is a beast¡­

    Ah, no. Have to focus, at least for a bit. Team. Training.

    I push down my dirty thoughts and ignore the heat between my legs. Marthe is the first to finish, standing up with a sigh. She glares at me but it¡¯s different from her usual glare. Less hostility and more¡­envy?

    ¡°I hate you,¡± she says sharply.

    ¡°Oh? What is it this time?¡±

    ¡°You get to eat like this every day. There are people who¡¯d kill for this. I¡¯d kill you if it meant having this.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try but if you fail, you¡¯ll be paying for it with your body.¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡± Alana screeches.

    ¡°I meant in prison! A delicate girl will definitely suffer in a cold cell with only gruel to eat. Her body will suffer, won¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what you meant,¡± she hisses through grit teeth.

    I click my tongue at her. ¡°You always think the worse of me, don¡¯t you? A less secure woman might be offended. Don¡¯t worry, I like vicious women too.¡± I wink at her. She makes a rude gesture with her hand and hurriedly swallows her remaining food.

    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to punch you.¡±

    I bat my eyes at her. ¡°Is that what you knights call it?¡±

    ¡°Call wha¡ªwait. You!¡±

    ¡°Rahhh!¡± Being the uncultured dog that he is, Arthur throws his plate to the ground once he finishes to catch our attention, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ¡°Are we going to do this or what? Hurry up Will, the food won¡¯t appreciate you trying to make love to it.¡±

    ¡°¡­quite.¡± William wipes his mouth with a napkin, like a civilized person, before standing up. ¡°Lady Tome, thank you for a wonderful breakfast. Your servants¡¯ talents are remarkable. If you ever decide to give up the life of a caster, you can make a fortune from these recipes. I would be happy to invest in such a venture.¡±

    Do I need your money? ¡°Thanks.¡± Sorry, I¡¯ve got bigger plans than whoring Geneva for public consumption, in any way.

    ¡°Usual rules?¡± Arthur asked with a grin.

    ¡°¡­what rules?¡± I ask, not liking his expression.

    ¡°Sea rules of course. Winner takes all.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit much for training, isn¡¯t it?¡± And what do you mean winner takes all? Money? Our lives? Hm. I might agree to it if it¡¯s the second one. Will the Hall punish me if he willingly offers me his life?

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    ¡°That¡¯s the point, landbrain. The fight don¡¯t mean much if there¡¯s nothing on the line. The loser has to hurt and the winner has to be roaring in victory. There has to be stakes.¡±

    I don¡¯t disagree with what he¡¯s saying. Stakes make a competition interesting. How many heroes would go on perilous quests if a princess didn¡¯t await their return? More practically, how many casters would risk their lives fighting manabeasts if it didn¡¯t mean fame and fortune? However, I¡¯ve got the feeling that if I indulge him, I¡¯ll regret it.

    ¡°¡­what kind of stakes were you thinking?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter as long as the two parties agree. I¡¯ve seen seamen wager drink and gold. Their ships. Their own asses. Their wives.¡± He laughed. ¡°That last one might be doing you a favor, haha! From what we heard, she¡¯s quite a lot to handle, bwahaha¡ªfuck!¡±

    His ducks the flame arrow that would have taken off his head and glares at me. I click my tongue. ¡°She is a handful and you¡¯ll never find out how much. As for wagers, you have nothing I want.¡±

    ¡°Sure about that? I knew a few whores like you in Graywatch. A woman that doesn¡¯t like a man simply hasn¡¯t found the right one¡ªdamn it!¡±

    Impressively, he pulls up a wall of earth as he curses, blocking the half a dozen flame arrows aimed at him. Earth is strong against fire. Normally, earth spells are slow and mana intensive but he¡¯s skilled enough to defend against one of my fastest spells. I hate to admit it but the rude bastard is good. Really good.

    Not good enough to stop me from knocking his teeth out.

    ¡°I think it makes more sense to say a woman who doesn¡¯t like men has probably met you. If you want me to play your game, make me a serious offer.¡±

    ¡°Heh. Alright. Here¡¯s an offer. If you win, I¡¯ll let you pick one thing from my hoard.¡±

    ¡°Your what?¡±

    ¡°My hoard. The treasure every¡­fisherman collects sailing the seas. I¡¯ve stumbled on all kinds of things sailing with my old man. Artifacts, precious jewelry, all kinds of things. It¡¯s a good deal.¡±

    Am I supposed to believe he simply stumbled across precious artifacts and jewels? Damn it, he¡¯s trying to pass off stolen goods. Stolen goods I apparently don¡¯t get to see before making this deal.

    ¡°In return¡ª¡±

    ¡°If you mention anything having to do with your dick, I¡¯m going to cut it off.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Don¡¯t get cocky. You¡¯re not¡ª¡±

    A heavy impact interrupts him, drawing our attention to the billowing curtain covering the hole in our bedroom. Then down as Kierra stands. She¡¯s wearing another dress, the top a soft brown leather vest with several layers of sheer white skirts. Almost as inappropriate for the oncoming winter as Marthe¡¯s skirt but I¡¯d be lying if I said I don¡¯t appreciate the sight. My eyes are glued to her long, long legs until she¡¯s standing before us.

    ¡°Lou~¡± Her arms go around my neck as she pulls me into her chest, nuzzling the top of my head affectionately. ¡°Too bad you didn¡¯t get your turn, hm?¡± she whispers.

    My arms come up to hug her waist as I bury my face in her mountains, dipping my tongue into the valley between them. She chuckles and her hair brushes my cheek as she turns toward someone. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help hearing what you said. You¡¯re very correct. A contest is nothing without stakes. But my wife has no need of whatever paltry treasures you can offer. If you try to goad her into wagering me, you¡¯ll die.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± Arthur shouts. ¡°She¡¯s got the look, sure, but no summer girl is going to beat a gray man. I¡¯ve filleted fish scarier than her. These arms aren¡¯t just for show.¡±

    ¡°You think a little muscle can compete with her. How¡­cute.¡±

    I grumble and use my teeth to show my dissatisfaction. Only to immediately regret it as my wife wantonly moans, holding me tighter. I can hear three heartbeats spike. Poor William. I¡¯m not upset with him. After all, he¡¯s a warm-blooded man. Who can blame him for reacting?

    I¡¯m not feeling nearly as generous towards the pig. Thinking of him ogling my wife makes me want to tear his eyes out. I might have already if I weren¡¯t being held by Kierra. Never miss an opportunity to cuddle with my wife.

    ¡°And I wasn¡¯t simply speaking of her. It¡¯s utterly impossible but in the event I did take you to bed, I¡¯d crush you.¡± Her fingers tickle the back of my neck and I know in my heart she¡¯s about to do something terrible. ¡°You aren¡¯t man enough to handle me, boy.¡±

    Ouch.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-48

    Even I feel a little damage from that and she¡¯s indirectly complimenting me. I hear Marthe snort in amusement, which is the final straw.

    ¡°Raahhh! Forget the stakes! We¡¯re fighting now. You¡¯re going to eat those words when I knock her head off her shoulders!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± Her arms come off my shoulders and I reluctantly let her go as she steps back. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, dedia.¡± Her fingers brush my cheek as she walks away, heading for her garden.

    ¡°Your wife just signed your death warrant,¡± Arthur says in what I guess is meant to be a menacing tone. His intimidation rolls right off me.

    ¡°It seems we¡¯ll be starting our training off with bouts. As team leader¡ª¡±

    ¡°Who made you the leader?¡± Alana interjects but I ignore her.

    ¡°¡ªI¡¯ll set an example and go first. Arthur has kindly volunteered to be my opponent.¡±

    He makes a rude gesture with his hands.

    ¡°No stakes for now.¡± They really have nothing to offer me. ¡°Let¡¯s get the rules settled. No leaving the garden, stay out of the trees for your own safety, no aiming spells at the house, victor goes to first blood.¡±

    ¡°Oi! You¡¯re not escaping with first blood!¡±

    I sigh. ¡°Yes, because beating each other unconscious is a great way to build camaraderie. First blood. You get one hit so better make it count.¡±

    His scowl says he doesn¡¯t care about my rules. Fool, these rules are more for your protection than mine. Though I plan to make my one hit count as well. ¡°Any other objections?¡±

    ¡°First blood is acceptable,¡± William says with a nod.

    Marthe scoffs and turns her head.

    Alana grins, hand falling to the hilt of her sword. Likely imaging she has an advantage with her blade.

    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. Bell will be refereeing.¡±

    My favorite imp, who¡¯s been lurking under the table, swiftly jumps on top of it. She hugs her tail to her chest and bows, raising her head with a ¡°Coo~¡±

    A hand goes to my heart that feels like it¡¯s been pierced by an arrow. Gah! Why is she so adorable?! ¡°Don¡¯t let those big eyes or adorable little arms fool you. She¡¯s strong and she will hurt anyone who breaks the rules. Won¡¯t you, my little saint?¡±

    She launches herself into my outstretched arms and lets me cuddle her, her tail going to its usual place around my neck. ¡°Coo coo!¡±

    ¡°Ah. Except you, Alana.¡±

    ¡°Thanks?¡±

    ¡°Have you finished talking?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, Arty.¡± I put down Bell with a chuckle as he stomps away from the table and follow him. The others trail us. Alana scowls as Bell jumps onto her shoulders but after several unsuccessful attempts to brush her off, she reluctantly allows the imp to stay.

    I take a dueling distance from Arthur. ¡°Then¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rahhhhh!!¡±

    I watch with a hint of amazement as a large section of earth surrounding Arthur lifts into the air as a loose cloud of dirt. It¡¯s incredibly similar to what Bell did yesterday, but at a reduced speed. She gathered the earth and condensed it in a matter of moments while Arthur¡¯s cloud is still forming.

    However, his gaze tells me he¡¯s prepared for me to try something. Oh, this must not be a continuous spell. If that cloud of earth is an already cast spell, it¡¯s a good way to bait an opponent with a fake opening.

    Not that I intend on attacking him either way. He seems intent on hurting me but this is a training match. A show to demonstrate what my teammates can do.

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    I can¡¯t see what they can do if I stomp them before they have a chance to use their trump cards.

    The cloud of dirt around him becomes so thick I can no longer see his figure, rising several meters into the air. After a minute, it starts to condense. Slowly, a vaguely humanoid figure appears, made from stone. I crane my neck up to stare at the giant featureless face except for two hollow eyes.

    ¡°Are you stupid? Letting your opponent do whatever he wants.¡± A voice that might belong to Arthur if he were, well, a giant, rolls over the garden. ¡°You¡¯re going to pay for being so cocky.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Not impressed.

    The earth giant takes a heavy step forward, it¡¯s large body casting all of us into shadow. Its next step is forceful, shaking the ground. Then it¡¯s running toward me.

    I jump out of the way of the feet trying to crush me. ¡°Is this all you have?¡± I shout up to the dancing titan. ¡°Maybe if you keep it up, I¡¯ll choke on the dust you¡¯re kicking up, haha!¡±

    Objectively, it¡¯s a good technique. His stone suit is a powerful defense, what earth casters are known for, while its size and weight make it a fearsome weapon. I imagine the average solider would simply drop their swords if they saw it walking towards them.

    Very impractical in terms of war. It¡¯d be nothing but a giant target. A hail of spells would bring it down instantly. Then the collapsing giant would fall on its allies, causing¡ª

    ¡°Choke on this!¡±

    His shout interrupts me from my musings. I stumble as Arthur¡¯s earth puppet jumps high into the air, momentarily blotting out the sky. Then it¡¯s falling, limbs splayed for maximum coverage. Quite a bit of coverage. From the corner of my eye, I see the others hurry off to escape the falling giant.

    I suppose it¡¯s time to show what I can do.

    I raise both hands, splaying out my fingers as the giant gets closer. There¡¯s a dull thud as he lands on my palms. My arms buckle but the strain isn¡¯t anything I can¡¯t handle.

    ¡°What?¡± Arthur asks. ¡°How are you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not the time to get distracted by the details.¡± I bend my knees and quickly shoot up as I throw Arthur away. The giant is airborne for several long moments before hitting the ground hard, tearing up a large section of the garden before being stopped by the trees.

    Oops. Accidentally made more work for Gajin.

    ¡°Saints.¡±

    I turn to see Marthe watching me with a dropped jaw. William is in a similar position, shocked into silence. Alana is less surprised as she is frustrated. Mm, I like competitive women too, but she¡¯s going to drive herself crazy trying to pit herself against me.

    I wave to her before turning back to Arthur. ¡°Anything else?¡± I call to the prone giant. I really hope this isn¡¯t the extent of his abilities.

    Luckily, the giant begins to shift, curling in on itself until it¡¯s a smooth ball. Spikes slowly emerge from the surface, the cones as thick as a tree¡¯s trunk. It rocks back and forth before rolling toward me, rapidly gaining speed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t want me catching you again, huh?¡± Too bad for him, I¡¯m not just strong. I¡¯m almost fast. Fast enough to easy move under the incoming spikes, grabbing two under their smooth bases. Again, I throw Arthur¡¯s construct into the air, jumping after it. The spikey ball starts to spin. I kick out, foot going between the spikes and catapulting the ball backward.

    If they were any other trees, Arthur would barrel right through them. However, these are Kierra¡¯s. Nothing she grows is simple.

    Arthur¡¯s little ball cracks against the trunk of the tree like the shell of a peanut, the spikes shattering on impact before it snaps apart down the middle. The rude man falls out of the hollow center. He¡¯s on his feet instantly, staring at me in disbelief.

    ¡°The fuck are you?!¡± he shouts, the faintest trace of fear in his voice.

    ¡°Bell, is he bleeding?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Coo~¡± [Not at all, Master Lou.]

    ¡°You heard the imp. Match is still going. What else you got?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind of monster you are¡­¡± Arthur puts a hand on one of the larger chunks of stone. The stone begins to move, transforming into a spear. ¡°But I¡¯ve put down bigger.¡±

    I motion for him to get on with it.

    With a shout, Arthur charges at me. Mm. Again, I¡¯m forced to recognize his ability. I¡¯d thought he be a brute trying to spit me like a boar before a feast but his movements are masterful. Dare I say, graceful. The tip of his spear seems to track me no matter where I dodge. He¡¯s always ready when I try to get past his range, smoothly changing the position of his hands and wielding his spear like a staff. And the wooden spearhead is sharp, easily slicing my clothes with each narrow dodge.

    However, the gap between our physical abilities is simply too much.

    He jabs his spear at me and I lean backward, grabbing it just under the head. I clamp down and snap the head off before yanking on the shaft. Arthur doesn¡¯t let go of his weapon and gets pulled along with it, into my range.

    I grab him by the throat. I lift him but with his height, it¡¯s just forcing him to the tips of his toes. He immediately punches me. I can tell from the grimace on his face and the tension in his arms that he¡¯s swinging with all his might.

    I don¡¯t feel a thing.

    Slowly, I raise a hand, making sure he¡¯s watching me as I make a fist. ¡°Grit your teeth,¡± I say cheerily. I don¡¯t wait to see if he follows my advice before punching him in the gut.

    He flies backward, hitting the ground hard and rolling six times before he comes to a stop. Tough bastard tries to get to his knees before violently retching and collapsing.

    Bell leaps from Alana¡¯s shoulder and hurries over to him. Seeing the small imp drag him by his ankle makes me chuckle. ¡°How is he?¡±

    ¡°Coo coo.¡± [A little internal damage but nothing I can¡¯t fix.]

    Don¡¯t fix him up too much. A nice bruise might shut him up.

    [As you wish, Master Lou.]

    I turn to the others. William takes a step backward when our gazes meet. Aw, did I scare him? I give him my friendliest grin.

    He pales. Hm. Kierra might be influencing me too much. Can¡¯t even smile right anymore.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-49

    ¡°As you¡¯ve seen,¡± I say in a nonchalant tone as if I don¡¯t notice their disbelief, ¡°along with my casting abilities, I am very strong and durable. So much so that I can confidently say that without magical aide, no one in the Hall can match me in strength or speed.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Marthe asks. ¡°Are you even human?¡±

    No. ¡°Of course I am. This is simply a benefit of being married to a battle maniac with a pure physical affinity.¡±

    ¡°Pardon me, Lady Tome,¡± William says carefully, far more tense than usual. Poor guy can¡¯t look me in the eye. ¡°I recognize what a pure affinity is but I don¡¯t understand how that explains your¡­display.¡±

    ¡°Willie, Willie, Willie.¡± That statement doesn¡¯t make sense. A pure affinity explains everything. ¡°How about you, Marthe? Do you know what a pure affinity is?¡±

    ¡°Are you calling me stupid?¡± She sneers. Someone isn¡¯t cowled by my strength. Or at the very least, she is much better at hiding it. ¡°A pure affinity allows someone to use an affinity without constructing a spell.¡±

    ¡°Just making sure you were paying attention in your initiate classes. As the lady said¡ª¡±

    ¡°Who are you calling a lady?!¡±

    I gape at her. Only Marthe would take that as an insult. ¡°As the feral girl said, pure affinities allow someone to use magic without spells. They simply conjure events through pure willpower and imagination. That means anything the physical affinity can do, my wife can as well. Without a series of complicated variables and coefficients. Buffing, healing, magic farming¡ª¡±

    ¡°Melding,¡± he says in awe. ¡°She¡¯s a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯re not discussing this anymore,¡± I say sharply. ¡°What she can or cannot do is unimportant. All that matters is what I bring to this team. I only explained this much so you aren¡¯t concerned that me throwing around Arthur¡¯s giant was a gimmick of some sort.¡± I grin. ¡°If you have any doubts, we can have a small spar ourselves.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for you to fight again,¡± Alana says bitterly.

    ¡°Aw. I thought for sure you¡¯d want to try me.¡±

    She glares at me before turning her attention toward the house. ¡°¡­is he going to be alright?¡±

    ¡°You worried about him?¡±

    ¡°He may be a pig but I don¡¯t want him dead.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill him. That¡¯d be illegal.¡± And more trouble than it¡¯s worth.

    She gives me a dubious look that says she doesn¡¯t believe my law-abiding act. ¡°I have a good idea what Marthe can do but I¡¯d like to see your skills, William.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­yes, of course.¡± William makes a valiant effort to recover from recent events. He removes his glasses, holding them with indecision until Bell pulls his pants leg. ¡°Coo~¡±

    He jumps before scratching his neck in embarrassment. ¡°Oh. Hello?¡±

    I feel an urge to roll my eyes. ¡°Bell may be the size of a child but she is quite intelligent. Give them to her.¡±

    He hesitantly hands the expensive tool to my imp before nervously straightening his shirt. ¡°Combat is not my specialty. Please go easy on me.¡±

    Alana¡¯s bad mood softens and she gives him a friendly smile. ¡°Do your best.¡±

    ¡°Yes, do your best,¡± I echo, trying not to feel bitter. Really, it¡¯s just a smile. She¡¯s being nice to him because he looks like a harsh word will break him in two. Besides, he¡¯s not her type. He can¡¯t be. She¡¯s grown up around tough men and wants to fight monsters for a living. She couldn¡¯t possibly be interested in someone with twigs for arms and pasty skin.

    ¡­could she?

    [Would you like to know, Master Lou?]

    No I would not, you little ball of temptation. I am not threatened by him. I refuse to be.

    They take a dueling distance from one another. Alana draws her sword, holding it in that distinctive stance that points the blade behind her. ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°One moment if you would.¡± His fingers move to push up his glasses before he realizes they aren¡¯t there, his hand awkwardly falling to his side. ¡°This won¡¯t be much of a competition if we abide by the standard rules, of which there is no casting before the duel. I am embarrassed to admit that I am too slow at conjuring water to do so before losing a fight to anyone, let alone yourself.¡±

    Too slow? A spell¡¯s speed is determined by both the spell and the amount of mana used to power it. For my fire affinity, I can just use the variable for fire and a flame appears. If I want to make a larger flame, I can either use variables to describe the size or use a higher mana coefficient.

    Conjuring water is a bit more complicated but if he¡¯s so slow he needs to ask for a moment, he either doesn¡¯t know the variables for the amount he wants or has a small coefficient that makes him leery about throwing his power behind it.

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    Honestly, this tells me everything I need to know about his combat ability but Alana graciously allows it. ¡°Fair enough. Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°I am obliged.¡± William closes his eyes as he concentrates. Saints. That¡¯s a terrible habit. How does he expect to win a fight if he has to close his eyes every time he uses a spell?

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell scales my body and settles on my shoulders, little hands in my hair. [You are too unkind, Master Lou. They are initiates, babes amongst casters. They can hardly be expected to be competent. The pirate boy is an exception, having already experienced years of combat. Your sun is inexperienced but has been training for far longer. William is what I would expect of the average initiate.]

    Really?

    [You often forget how unusual your circumstances are.]

    I suppose. After my rebirth, the first being I contended with was Kierra. Being chased around day after day by that crazy woman did not make me feel powerful. Besides her, I spend my days with Geneva, whose knowledge makes me question my intelligence, and Bell, who can easily rival the kingdom¡¯s strongest casters. My benchmarks for measuring strength are extremely skewed.

    All I can think as I watch a ball of water slowly forming in front of him is how vulnerable he is. It¡¯s hard to remember that he is only at the beginning of his life as a caster. He¡¯s further ahead than most having been accepted into the Hall.

    Saints, he¡¯s got an advantage over most of the kingdom who either don¡¯t have the talent or the resources to be a caster. In any of the small villages that dot the countryside, they¡¯d marvel at the spell I¡¯m mentally deriding with wide eyes and treat him like the highest of nobility.

    After five minutes, the ball of water is as wide as his chest. William sighs deeply. ¡°I am prepared now, Lady James.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Alana.¡± Her body tenses. ¡°On your mark, Lou.¡±

    ¡°If both fighters are ready¡­begin!¡±

    To my surprise, Alana doesn¡¯t start with her usual blinding tactic, or any other spell. She simply runs toward him in a straight line. The reason comes to me quickly. It¡¯s the same reason I didn¡¯t jump into Arthur¡¯s cloud of dirt. This is supposed to be a demonstration of what he can do. There¡¯s no point if he loses immediately.

    I¡¯m relieved that William doesn¡¯t close his eyes as he casts his next spell. The ball of water in front of him trembles as three fist-sized balls globules separate from the whole. I watch as they slowly condense, shrinking to half their size. Excellent control. But it¡¯s slow, far too slow. He might not notice but I can tell Alana slows down to give him more time to complete his spell.

    My opinion of William¡¯s ability changes when he launches his first attack. The small ball of water moves through the air at a speed that is impressive given his previous display. I see Alana¡¯s eyes widen as she quickly sidesteps the attack, speeding up her charge.

    William throws the other two balls of water, launching the second a moment after the first. Alana dodges the first but has to block the second with her arm. She winces as her limb is pushed back and her eyes narrow. Oh, she¡¯s not underestimating him anymore.

    And William is not the slouch I thought he was. He uses the moment Alana hesitates to mold the rest of the water into a crescent shape. A lumpy one. He doesn¡¯t have the time to mold it properly before she is on him and he¡¯s forced to release it.

    The wave is just as fast as his little balls but Alana¡¯s prepared. In an amazing display of flexibility, Alana bends over nearly backward to dodge the wave of water aimed for her chest. She turns to keep her momentum, continuing her dash without a pause. Her sword snaps out, stopping right against his neck. A drop of blood wells from the shallow cut.

    He swallows and slowly raises his hands. ¡°I surrender.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± She pulls back her sword, running the edge over her pants to clean off the small drops of blood on it. ¡°Your spells are basic but they¡¯re good,¡± she compliments as she sheathes the blade. ¡°You¡¯re right, though. Fighting isn¡¯t your specialty.¡±

    He chuckles self-depreciatingly as they walk toward us. ¡°Few water casters outside of Graywatch dream of fighting monsters.¡±

    ¡°Then what is your dream?¡± I ask. Maybe a touch harshly from the way he ducks his head.

    ¡°Eh-hem. I want to be a sculptor.¡±

    ¡°¡­with the water affinity?¡± I could understand if he were an earth caster but¡­

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking. My brothers looked at me the same way. It is a bit untraditional but sculpting with the water affinity allows me to use more mediums than stone. Certain alchemical liquids can ¡®cut¡¯ better than saws or chisels, working just as well on stone as they do wood or even gems. Not to mention the potential of ice sculptures. Truly, a marvelous field though it requires the cooperation of a fire caster or an artifact capable of controlling temperature.¡±

    His eyes are shining as he rambles on about his passion, more energetic than I¡¯ve ever seen him. He reminds me of my gardener and the tiny resentment I¡¯ve been nurturing disappears. How can anyone hate that excited smile? ¡°You¡¯ll have to show me your work. The house could use a few more decorations.¡± The only ones we have are Gajin¡¯s bouquets and Kierra¡¯s skulls.

    ¡°Of course! I can only work on small pieces with the lack of space in our dorms but recently I¡¯ve been¡ª¡±

    ¡°Talk about your date later,¡± Alana snaps. ¡°We should talk strategy.¡±

    I try to catch her eyes as she heads for the table but she turns her head. Your voice sounded a bit frosty, my friend. Almost like me when I thought you were being too friendly. Don¡¯t like the idea of me spending any alone time with a boy?

    Saints bless with me with patience, why does she insist on playing this game? ¡°Bell, give Willie his frames and drag Arthur over here.¡±

    Alana tries to take the end seat but I counter her strategy by grabbing it and placing it next to another chair. She glares at me but sits down in the new position, side-eyeing me as I take place beside her.

    ¡°To be clear,¡± I whisper. ¡°He could make a work of art beautiful enough to make the saints shed golden tears from the heavens and I still wouldn¡¯t be interested in him.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±

    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t. I¡¯m simply making a little conversation. More random conversation, do you want to go shopping with me?¡±

    She blinks, finally turning toward me. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to assume you aren¡¯t one for nighties? What do you usually sleep in?¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡± She pauses, her face flushing.

    I really want to know what she was going to say but there¡¯s no chance of that. ¡°You¡¯re not going to disrespect our beautiful bed by climbing into it wearing the same clothes you swing a sword in. So, shopping? On my purse.¡±

    ¡°As if. You¡¯re trying to get me into something shameful.¡±

    ¡°Always, but don¡¯t worry. The choice is yours. I¡¯ll just be there to throw away my money.¡± I scoff at her disbelieving look. ¡°I¡¯m trying to get you into bed, not drive you away. Is it so wrong that I don¡¯t want to turn over and rub against an oversized, rough, linen shirt? It¡¯s a perfectly innocent request.¡±

    ¡°Nothing is innocent with you.¡± She sighs. ¡°But I suppose this is relatively harmless. Besides, there¡¯s other things I need.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± She gives me an indecipherable look. ¡°I was thinking I might spend the gap months until our acolyte year back home. At Fort Victory.¡±

    I suck in a sharp breath but before I can respond, Marthe smoothly interrupts. "Are we done here?"

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-50

    ¡°Upset you didn¡¯t get a chance to fight?¡± I ask her.

    She scoffs. ¡°As if. I like hurting stupid nobles who don¡¯t know when to shut their disgusting mouths or keep their hands to themselves. I don¡¯t need to fight a woman capable of throwing a small mountain around like a toy.¡±

    Her eyes move to Alana. ¡°Or an insane woman who wakes up at dawn to swing her sword.¡± Her gaze moves to William and becomes disdainful. ¡°Or a boy whose idea of combat looks like a child trying to splash someone with water as a prank.¡±

    William adjusts his frames, face flushed with embarrassment. ¡°Yes, well, what is your specialty, Miss Marthe?¡± he asks, a touch aggrieved, and I don¡¯t blame him.

    ¡°Hmph.¡± Marthe lays her hand on the table. I can feel the heat as the wood under it turns to ash. ¡°I can melt anything I come into contact with. Even pigs in metal suits.¡±

    One trick but it¡¯s a good one. Reaching those kinds of temperatures without burning herself takes some precise variables. Probably why she practices with her little warm shell. ¡°I¡¯m going to guess you¡¯re lacking a way to incapacitate someone for long enough to burn their faces off.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Otherwise, you would be eager for a fight.¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°My teacher told me to focus on one thing at a time.¡±

    Your teacher? It can¡¯t be someone at the Hall, initiates all receive the same instruction. Well, anyone the Hall is willing to sponsor can¡¯t be simple. ¡°No matter. In terms of combat, Arthur, Alana, and myself are more than enough. Either one of us, I think.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so sure,¡± Alana says. ¡°This is the Hall. We may be facing initiates but they¡¯re the best the kingdom has to offer. There¡¯s bound to be a few extraordinary people.¡±

    ¡°I take your meaning.¡± Still not concerned. ¡°There¡¯s something else I wanted to discuss. What can you do besides fighting? After all, the rules said the objectives would not directly involve combat. Again, as team leader¡ª¡± I ignore Alana¡¯s scoff. ¡°¡ªI¡¯ll go first. I¡¯m fairly good with a bow and decent with a dagger, throwing and dueling. I¡¯m also a summoner, though I doubt the test will have anything to do with that. Delving the many realms beyond our own has left me with a wealth of obscure knowledge, which I¡¯m guessing will be equally unhelpful. Vice-leader, you¡¯re up.¡±

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    It takes Alana a moment to realize I¡¯m talking to her. ¡°At least I¡¯m second-in-command,¡± she mutters. ¡°Um, I¡¯m pretty good with a needle and thread, starting fires, handling animals, and I make a decent stew.¡± She glances back and forth between us. ¡°Grew up as a servant, pretty good with chores.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Willie, got any other skills we need to know?¡±

    He pushes up his frames. ¡°In anticipation of inheriting my father¡¯s businesses, all of his sons were educated in accounting, history, and noble customs.¡±

    ¡°Noble customs?¡±

    ¡°Famous poems and stories. Intellectual pursuits such as philosophy. Dancing.¡±

    Marthe scoffs. ¡°That¡¯ll help.¡±

    ¡°You never know. What if our test is a dancing competition? Ha! That¡¯d drop a few jaws.¡± I chuckle at the thought of initiates armed to the teeth staring at an instructor in confusion when they¡¯re told to find a partner for a waltz. ¡°Then, Marthe. Can you do anything besides destroy my table?¡±

    ¡°Foraging, trapping¡­and memorizing stories.¡±

    ¡°Hah?¡±

    She scowls. ¡°In my village, important information was told through stories. I was really good at remembering them. I¡­¡± Her voice is wistful, eyes distant with old pain.

    Then she remembers that she¡¯s an angry, prickly girl who doesn¡¯t share her feelings and her face comes down. ¡°I¡¯m good at remembering information quickly. That¡¯s it.¡±

    ¡°Okay. As for Arthur¡­¡± Bell put him upright in a chair but he¡¯s still unconscious. Probably better that way. ¡°I¡¯m going to assume fishing, sailing, annoying people to death? Inducing vomiting in women?¡±

    ¡°Should be right,¡± Alana sneers.

    Mm. My team is quite strong in combat but we¡¯re lacking otherwise. I imagine most teams will have the same problem. People don¡¯t come to the Grand Hall to become potters or minstrels. ¡°They may say that the tests don¡¯t involve combat but they can¡¯t be that far off. I think we¡¯re in pretty good shape, considering.¡±

    ¡°Then, are we done?¡± Marthe says.

    Where¡¯s the team spirit? ¡°We¡¯ve hardly done any training. We still have to fight together.¡±

    ¡°Why? We¡¯ll just throw you and Arthur at whatever.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not going to do much for your evaluation. You do recall we aren¡¯t being judged so much on the objectives as we are our performance? We¡¯re a team but we¡¯re all being evaluated individually.¡±

    ¡°Then what kind of training do you have in mind, leader?¡±

    Ah. Geneva? A little help.

    [If all of you need to work together, it would be good to know their running speed. You can only move as fast as your slowest member.]

    Umu.

    [Roles should also be established. In an emergency, it¡¯s important to know whose orders to follow. While you have established yourself as a leader, with your abilities, you¡¯d be far more effective working alone.]

    That¡¯s Alana, obviously.

    [Then they need to be accustomed to following her orders. A simple game would suffice. The subconscious is a powerful tool. If they follow her orders for several days, they¡¯ll instinctively want to follow her orders during the test. And I imagine the seaman needs to be trained to follow anyone¡¯s orders.]

    Alright, I¡¯ve got this. Thank you as always. Don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you.

    [If we are lucky, you will never have to find out, my summoner.]

    Ah, that¡¯d warm my heart if her honeyed words weren¡¯t a ploy to get more pieces of me.

    ¡°I know what we¡¯re going to do. Time to take this training to the house. Bell¡­get the Herbanacle.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-51

    An hour later, my team is gathered around my dining table. There are two empty bottles of Herbanacle between us, which for once I¡¯m not responsible for emptying, and several empty platters of food.

    It should have been a simple game. Something to get them acquainted with taking orders from Alana, get Alana used to giving orders, and deepen our bonds as teammates. A game with very simple rules.

    Alana gives someone an order. If they follow it, they get a snack prepared by Geneva. If they don¡¯t, they take a drink. A classic drinking game but the stakes are a bit higher. Geneva¡¯s cooking is to die for and Herbanacle will knock the unaccustomed on their ass.

    Things started off simple and sweet. Alana, scared of her newfound power, was reluctant to command her subjects. She demanded simple things such as sharing their worst fears and their most embarrassing moments. I had to step in and provide her a little inspiration.

    William was the easiest. All it took to get a little Herbanacle in him was to ask which of his female teammates he would like to take to bed. His eyes met my smirk, Alana¡¯s raised brow, and Marthe¡¯s scowl before he blushed like a maiden and chose the liquor.

    Surprisingly, Arthur was the next one to crack. I thought he was entirely shameless. He sure put on a good fa?ade, boldly declaring he could handle any dare or question. And he proved a tough nut to crack.

    He didn¡¯t blink when Alana told him to have his hair cut, taming that wild mane of his into something respectable. Laughed when we took a pair of scissors to his matted beard. Was a bit too enthusiastic when Alana told him to kiss Will, ignoring his unwilling partner.

    It took a bit of creativity. I had to ask myself, what would an overconfident, disgustingly masculine, immoral bastard like him find unacceptable? I could think of a few things but I had to work with whatever was immediately available.

    Then it came to me. I had Bell fetch the necessary prop from my bedroom and then Alana asked him to wear one of my wife¡¯s nighties.

    He may be a rough seaman but he still has some shame. Or an ego he can¡¯t compromise. He stared at the dress for several long moments, grunted, and then grabbed his previously untouched cup.

    Marthe was difficult. It seemed nothing could faze the smoldering ball of rage. Embarrassment? Means nothing to her. Shame? Doesn¡¯t have any. Didn¡¯t blink an eye when she was told to strip, displaying her moderate chest and thin waist with a nonchalance that can¡¯t be faked. Fear? She needs to learn some. She huffed when asked to stand in front of a wall and remain still while knives were thrown at her by me. Just stared at me, even when one buried itself in the wall right above her ear.

    I actually gave up, resigning myself that I couldn¡¯t break her without crossing a terrible line. Alana went back to asking her simple questions. I was beyond surprised when an easy question, which of her parents does she likes the most, broke her, the redhead readying her cup instead of answering. Anything about her family is off-limits. After three questions, she started pushing her cup forward before a question was even asked.

    Alana wasn¡¯t spared either. As team leader, she drinks when they drink. A rule she was not very fond of at the beginning but Geneva¡¯s cooking is very persuasive. Besides, Arthur and Marthe gave her a false sense of security with their daring deeds. By time I assessed everyone¡¯s weakness, it was too late to turn back. She¡¯s the most drunk of all.

    By afternoon, my teammates are passed out in various positions; William¡¯s head rests on his arms, Arthur is face-down on the floor, and Marthe is slumped in her chair. She even scowls in her sleep, poor thing. I¡¯m a little curious what could cause such deep-seated anger but something tells me that¡¯s a bucket of hungry abyss worms and I don¡¯t want to put my hand in it.

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    Alana, who is seated next to me, is practically in my lap. Her head rests on my shoulder with one arm wrapped around opposite shoulder. Her other hand dangles between her legs, fingers lightly holding her empty cup. Once again, she proves that she gets clingy when her inhibitions are tossed aside.

    ¡°Hey, Loooou.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Alana.¡±

    ¡°That bastard. That bastard!¡± Her arm comes up and she loses her tenuous grip on the glass. It flies through the air but Bell is there to grab it, snatching it from the air with her tail. ¡°My father deigns to write me for the first time and he demands I come back to that frozen hell for the campaign. An initiate! He¡¯s sending me to die! For what? So he can parade his daughter and her light affinity, the power wielded by the first saint. As if that alone will lead to victory after hundreds of years of failure!¡±

    Ah. I was worried she might get involved in Fort Victory¡¯s latest campaign but I never expected she¡¯d be on the front lines. Do they think they can afford to have her march into that frozen graveyard and give rousing speeches to a bunch of dead men walking? They don¡¯t need a mascot, they need a miracle. The heat of a little religious fervor isn¡¯t going to melt the treacherous snow. Her father is either crazy or heartless. Maybe both.

    ¡°Hey.¡± She turns and I feel her nose brush the side of my neck. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m a coward?¡±

    I scoff. ¡°Coward? No. How many times have you jumped in to defend me without knowing the situation?¡± Saints, she challenged Kierra for me. ¡°You are far from a coward.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­scared,¡± she whispers at a volume that makes me question whether she intended for me to hear. ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to prove myself for my whole life but¡­¡± Her hand tightly grabs my shirt. ¡°I¡¯m not ready.¡±

    ¡°Alana¡­¡± My hand moves to her head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die.¡±

    ¡°You really let all your defenses down when you drink.¡± I¡¯ll have to make sure she never drinks alone in the future. It¡¯s kind of cute. Why can¡¯t she be this honest all the time? ¡°You¡¯re not going to die,¡± I tell her, patting her head as if I¡¯m coaxing an upset child. Such a shame she never remembers this stuff.

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°I know, because I¡¯ll be there.¡± My hazy plan to boost my reputation by making my mark in the Bleak Peaks has just become as solid as stone. Looks like I¡¯ll be spending my post-initiate vacation in a winter wonderland. ¡°I won¡¯t let anything happen to you.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t promise that,¡± she mutters. ¡°No one can.¡±

    ¡°Well, I just did.¡±

    She harrumphs. ¡°Stupid.¡±

    ¡°I prefer optimistic.¡±

    ¡°¡­degenerate.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Stop taking¡­¡± The rest of her words devolve into mutters.

    ¡°Oi.¡± I gently jostle her with the shoulder she¡¯s lying on but she doesn¡¯t budge, clinging to me harder. ¡°Don¡¯t fall asleep.¡±

    She ignores me, eyes drooping lower and lower before eventually closing. ¡°Alright.¡± I loop an arm around her and lift her from her chair as I stand. I ignore the others as I carry her upstairs.

    She grumbles as I toss her onto the bed but doesn¡¯t wake. I take a moment to appreciate the view. Oh, if only these were different circumstances. I wish I was undressing her but I have to limit myself to taking off her boots and making her a little more comfortable before climbing in beside her.

    ¡°I wish you didn¡¯t go to sleep so fast,¡± I mutter as I watch her chest slowly rising and falling. ¡°While you are being so honest, I wanted to ask you how long you plan on stringing me along.¡±

    She mumbles.

    ¡°Hm? Are you saying something?¡± I ask, leaning closer. ¡°Though, you¡¯re probably just having a¡ª¡±

    Her eyes snap open, her soft but calloused hand cupping my cheek. I can see her unfocused eyes and am more than fast enough to evade her as she leans in but the saints themselves couldn¡¯t compel me to. I happily welcome her as her lips brush against my own.

    Only for a moment. Then she rolls over, mumbling again. I stare at her back as a finger unconsciously touches my lips. Does she know what she was doing? Or was that just the dream? Could she be dreaming of me?

    ¡°Damn it, Alana.¡± I¡¯ve never had a woman cause me so much stress. Kierra¡¯s attention is demanding but I always know what to expect with her. Alana, lovely as she is, makes my head spin. Nevertheless, I can¡¯t leave her alone.

    Sighing deeply, I move closer, tucking her head under my chin and wrapping my arms around her. Hmph. If she¡¯s going to kiss me, I get to cuddle her. ¡°You¡¯re going to pay for all of this when we¡¯re together, you know.¡±

    She smiles in her sleep, blissfully unaware of my schemes.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-52

    Once again, I stand outside the Center Hall, staring at large signs proclaiming the team registration areas. My team is gathered around me, some more awake than others at the early hour. Alana insisted we leave early to avoid the crowd. That failed. Every initiate in the Hall must be here, likely with the same plan. Saints, the people at the front of the three lines must have been here at dawn.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Arthur swears. After the drunken dare to let us cut his hair, he looks much cleaner. A woman of the male persuasion might call him handsome but the visage is ruined the moment he opens his mouth. ¡°You pulled me out of bed for nothing! Could have come whenever we wanted if we¡¯re going to wait anyway.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here now,¡± Alana says. ¡°Let¡¯s get in line. The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can relax.¡± Her voice is tired but that¡¯s understandable. I only meant for our ¡®training¡¯ to get everyone familiar with one another and working with a bit of cohesion.

    Being the strict knight-to-be, Alana took it to a new level, insisting on running drills and playing through mock scenarios. Grew into her role giving commands quickly after her drunken mishap, which she again claims to not remember. Real convenient.

    ¡°I¡¯m not waiting an hour to put my name on a piece of paper!¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Alana swears softly as Arthur stomps toward the closest line. Marthe is the first to follow him with a bored expression. William drags his feet after them, used to his friend causing trouble. ¡°That idiot.¡±

    ¡°Relax,¡± I say, hooking her arm with mine as she tries to rush forward. I walk leisurely and she¡¯s forced to match my pace. ¡°Isn¡¯t it a good thing if Arthur can clear the way? I don¡¯t want to stand out here all morning either.¡±

    ¡°Except for the fact that he¡¯s likely to start a fight with everyone to do it,¡± she grumbles. ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll be disqualified if one of our teammates is banned from the Hall?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being ridiculous. They¡¯re not going to punish us for something he does. Besides, he¡¯s made it a full year without getting kicked out. Even if he was, would it be that much of a loss?¡±

    ¡°It would. You may be enough when it comes to combat but he has an important role. You are the vanguard, I give the orders, and he guards our rear. I¡¯m not good at defense. If I¡¯m forced to look after Marthe and William, I¡¯m going to be overstretched and all three of us will be vulnerable.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re forgetting my elementals.¡±

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you the one who said that we¡¯re all being evaluated individually?¡±

    ¡°Heard it from Miss Alyssa personally.¡±

    ¡°Then having Geo and Bell swoop in to save the day isn¡¯t going to do our team any favors. We have to work together and part of that means controlling Arthur.¡± She jabs me with her elbow. ¡°You said I give the orders. Here¡¯s one. Make sure he doesn¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±

    I grin at her. ¡°That¡¯s all you had to say. Bell.¡±

    The imp who has been quietly following behind us rushes forward. With a powerful leap, she latches onto Arthur¡¯s back, climbing onto his shoulders. He tries to shake her off but quickly settles down with a string of muttered curses, having already learned not to pick fights with my succubi. ¡°Oi! Get out of the way!¡±

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    He''s kicking up quite a fuss. Most of the initiates shrink away from the rude seaman, balking at the promise of violence in his sneer and tense shoulders, but there are a good number who glare at his passing back. They shy away from the confrontation, not him. I have a feeling if unsanctioned duels weren¡¯t frowned upon, they would have already spilled blood. Arthur clearly doesn¡¯t care about the consequences.

    Sometimes, the man who¡¯s willing to lose the most comes out on top.

    ¡°Halt!¡±

    Arthur¡¯s tyrannical push to the front of the line is brought to an abrupt stop as a group detaches from further up the line.

    What a heroic figure. The man, or should I say boy because there is no way he¡¯s over 18 with the baby fat n his face, has an impressive height and strong, square features taken right from a bard¡¯s song. His golden skin and curly brown hair make me think he¡¯s from the west, near the Rosefield duchy.

    I don¡¯t think he grew up farming though. Standing in front of Arthur, he¡¯s got the confidence of someone accustomed to violence or trained for it. His loose beige shirt and dark trousers blend into the crowd but my eye used to noble extravagance can tell that they¡¯re made of a better quality, speaking to money.

    Combined with the way he confronts Arthur, I¡¯m going to guess he¡¯s the son of a knight. Low noble house. A high noble wouldn¡¯t be bothered with the comings and goings of those beneath them. The four people behind him look like proper followers. Not a single one of them looks perturbed giving up their place and are ready to support Mr. Hero completely.

    Alana drags me along as she speeds up. I don¡¯t fight her but I bet we¡¯ve got different motivations. I¡¯m interested in what promises to be a good show.

    ¡°Hah?¡± If Arthur was a dog, his hackles would be raised and his teeth would be bared as he takes in the newcomer. ¡°Look what the deep washed up.¡± He licks his lips in anticipation as he steps into the wannabe hero¡¯s personal space. ¡°A hero. Heh, I love heroes. They always beg the loudest.¡±

    ¡°I am Robert Quintana, son of Manuel Reis Quintana. Identify yourself, cretin.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Arthur, son of the Deep Dread, not that his name means anything to a mudlegs like you. I¡¯ve seen ponds that could swallow you up. Get out of my way before you get hurt.¡±

    ¡°The way you speak. A man from Graywatch, I bet. My teacher spoke of those like you.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Must have met a grayman in a dark alley one night. Sure he had quite the tale, eh?¡±

    Robert grimaces at the implication. ¡°He described the entire city as a breeding ground for criminals and morally bankrupt men of opportunity. However, this is the Grand Hall. Your presence here means you aspire to be more than what you were exposed to. All men have greatness in them but it must be cultivated. Turn to the path of the saints, Arthur. We, loyal citizens of the crown, are all comrades, and there is no need to quarrel amongst one another. Take your place in line and wait your turn.¡±

    ¡°¡­hah? Are you dumb? What I want is for you to get out the way, idiot. Why don¡¯t you take your place in line and get out of my way before I send you to meet your precious saints.¡±

    The boy, or Robert, huffs, squaring his shoulders. ¡°As my teacher says, all men can walk the path of the saints¡­but some must be dragged.¡± His eyes begin to glow.

    ¡°Finally! If you wanted a fight, you should have¡ªgahhh!!¡±

    His words are choked off as Bell wraps her tail around his neck and yanks him backward. Arthur desperately claws at his throat as he backpedals. He trips over his own feet and hits the ground hard, squirming like a fish pulled from the water as he tries to get the imp off.

    ¡°Stay down, Arty,¡± I say as Alana and I step past him. My turn to face the pillar of righteousness. Or it would have been but Alana is faster, slipping free of my arm. She inclines her head toward him.

    ¡°Alana James. My teammate has caused you trouble.¡±

    The way he looks down on her makes me grit my teeth. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of you. You¡¯re quite famous amongst the initiates. Along with another.¡± He looks past her to me. I wave but he doesn¡¯t respond, retuning his gaze to Alana.

    ¡°I expected more. If you¡¯re going to align yourself with these people, I would expect you to be a positive influence, not to sink to their level.¡±

    Excuse me? What do you mean by ¡®these people¡¯? I should break his jaw for daring to compare me to the talking human waste struggling to breathe behind me.

    ¡°You should be ashamed of yourself. Return to the back of the line and take your dog with you.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-53

    I have nothing against him for standing up to Arthur. Saints, I approve. He could have laid my teammate on his ass and I¡¯d have bought the arrogant bastard a drink.

    But the way he¡¯s treating Alana? I could snap his neck. Who does he think he is? Why in the nine hells should she be ashamed? Is it her problem Arthur can¡¯t control himself? And where does this bastard get off talking down to us? Who gave him the authority to command us?!

    I¡¯m not the only one offended. Alana¡¯s friendly demeanor becomes hard as steel. He¡¯s a head taller than her but she¡¯s undaunted as she stares him down. ¡°The initiates surrendered their positions of their own volition. My teammate didn¡¯t lay a hand on them. If there was a problem, I imagine the acolytes registering the teams would have intervened. You have less authority than them so you¡¯re in no position to pass judgement.¡±

    He scoffs at her. Scoffs. ¡°I have both the authority and the duty as a chivalrous man to intervene. I don¡¯t expect a woman to understand.¡±

    Oh, he¡¯s pissed her off now. Alana goes from cold and determined to tense and angry. ¡°I understand chivalry. I understand the good men who live by the code,¡± she snaps, voice rising in volume. ¡°Chivalry is not about throwing your own ideals around. Defending the weak does not mean putting your nose into everyone¡¯s problems and punishing evil does not mean you have blanket permission to confront every asshole who gets on your nerves! Don¡¯t you dare use knighthood to justify your ego!¡±

    I may be imagining it but her voice echoes in the ensuing silence. Anyone who wasn¡¯t paying attention to the confrontation before certainly is now.

    Robert isn¡¯t cowled but he stares at Alana with wide eyes. If thoughts made sound, his would make enough to make my ears hurt. At least he doesn¡¯t appear to be contemplating violence. If I thought he might lash out, I¡¯d already be between them. I wonder if his ¡®chivalry¡¯ stops him from hitting a woman.

    ¡°¡­you speak the truth.¡± He takes a dramatic step backward and bows to her, including a sweeping gesture with his arm. ¡°My distaste for his methods made me speak out of turn. Forgive my rude behavior, my lady.¡±

    ¡°¡­as long as you recognize your fault.¡± Alana¡¯s shoulders relax at his de-escalation. Ah ah, here I thought she would tear into him a little more.

    ¡°However, his behavior is unacceptable. Selfishness or not, I will insist he stop.¡±

    This is where Alana loses momentum. She hates Arthur as well and distastes his behavior. If he weren¡¯t on our team, she¡¯d be the pillar of righteousness who stepped out to confront him. She has no ground to stand on and she wouldn¡¯t defend him if she could.

    Time for me to step in.

    ¡°You¡¯re right!¡± I say brightly, stepping up to them. I motion to William and Marthe standing quietly by the side and they join me. ¡°His behavior is completely unacceptable. I¡¯ll make sure he stops right now. Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± My imp stops choking Arthur and moves to his feet. She drags him forward by the ankle. I motion my team to follow me as I step past Robert, the man hastily moving aside when he sees I have no intention of going around him. I don¡¯t stop until I reach the front of the line, stopping behind the team currently being registered.

    One of them glances back but swiftly turns to the acolyte handling his team¡¯s registration. The team we¡¯ve cut in line take one look at Arthur being dragged through the dirt and collectively steps back, smartly avoiding conflict.

    Too bad Robert isn¡¯t so smart.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    He stomps over to us, nose flaring in anger. I raise my brows. ¡°Is there another problem?¡±

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    ¡°You can¡¯t cut in line. Go to the back!¡±

    ¡°Cut? I would ask you not to slander my reputation by spouting unjustified accusations. These people kindly surrendered their place in line. Correct?¡± I turn to them, doing my best to channel my wife in my smile. The five hastily nod. ¡°See? Don¡¯t demean such selfless generosity.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand you. Wasn¡¯t your problem with Arthur¡¯s behavior? He¡¯s quiet and he isn¡¯t bothering anyone.¡± I kick him in the side. He tries to kick out at me but Bell stops him with her tail. ¡°We are standing in line properly. What¡¯s the issue?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°It seems to me,¡± I interrupt, ¡°that the only one causing a problem right now is you. Tell the truth, little hero. You don¡¯t care about the right thing. You just want a good fight, don¡¯t you? Normally, I¡¯d be happy to let you apes slug each other to your heart¡¯s content but we came here with a goal. I¡¯d appreciate it if you¡¯d stop disturbing us and get in line. No cutting.¡±

    His calm fa?ade is completely broken. His eyes are aglow and his fists are clenched at his side. A boy after all if this is enough to get under his skin. Probably too used to getting his way if he can¡¯t get around a little bit of tongue-twisting. That heroic figure while confronting Arthur has been replaced by a mute idiot.

    A subtle clearing of someone¡¯s throat draws everyone¡¯s attention. The team in front of us is gone and the acolyte is staring at us from his seat behind a small table. ¡°Next, please.¡±

    ¡°That would be us, thank you.¡± I step forward and give the young man our names. From the corner of my eye, I see Robert stomp away but he frequently looks back. Do yourself a favor and let it go. It won¡¯t end well.

    ¡°You may come to regret that,¡± the acolyte says without looking up from the paper he¡¯s scribbling on.

    ¡°Oh? Why¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Acolytes don¡¯t pay much attention to initiates but everyone knows him.¡± He looks in the direction of the failed hero. ¡°Robert Quintana. He has all four basic affinities.¡±

    I stiffen. ¡°¡­seriously?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not something anyone jokes about.¡±

    Saints. A human with four affinities. That¡¯s a one in a million talent. Maybe one in ten million. The kind that used to make the mediocre me of the past quiver in my boots at the thought of attending the Grand Hall.

    ¡°He¡¯s been trained by an ex-royal knight and is practically the adopted son of the king. That¡¯s the next Harvest Hero you just pissed off. Maybe a future duke.¡±

    Dunwayne slew a dragon, which was actually a drakkon, with only the wind affinity and he didn¡¯t receive formal training until he was a teenager. There¡¯s no telling what a boy with four affinities and a lifetime of training is going to accomplish.

    But what do I care? I¡¯m the daughter of a god.

    ¡°Well, someone bound to be that great shouldn¡¯t be petty enough to hold a tongue-lashing against me. We done?¡±

    ¡°Heh. You¡¯re a bold one. Lourianne Tome, is it? You¡¯re done.¡± He hands me a wooden token with the number thirty-seven written on it. ¡°Tomorrow at ten, you and your team need to be at the west gate of the Beast Sanctuary. There, a guide will be waiting to lead you to the site of the test. They will also explain the rules. The test begins the moment you arrive so be prepared for anything,¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, good luck.¡±

    We leave the table. I spot Robert in line and wave to him, chuckling at his glare.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to antagonize him,¡± Alana says.

    Marthe chuckles behind her. ¡°You practically took him apart.¡±

    She has the conscience to flush in embarrassment. ¡°People think swinging around a sword and fighting monsters is enough to call themselves knights. They bring out chivalry and honor whenever they please to make themselves look good. It¡­bothers me.¡±

    Really? Never would have guessed. ¡°Next time he tries that, you have my permission to blind him.¡±

    She smiles. ¡°A surprise attack isn¡¯t very chivalrous.¡±

    ¡°Who said it had to be a surprise? Challenge him first if it makes you feel better but don¡¯t tell me you abide by some code of chivalry?¡± That¡¯ll make corrupting you much harder.

    ¡°The knight orders of Victory don¡¯t flaunt a code of chivalry like preening roosters,¡± she says icily. ¡°They don¡¯t need it. They are respectful because everyone is crucial to the war effort. There¡¯s no evil to punish because no one dares in a place where even the wives are trained in swordplay. No one does stunts for glory or honor, as that is measured by the amount of enemy blood they spill.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Then why are you so angry?¡±

    She looks me in the eye. ¡°A knight is a knight. I may not care about the more traditional orders of Summer Spire but if he wants to portray himself as one of them, he will do so properly.¡±

    ¡°Or else?¡± I ask in amusement.

    ¡°Or else, I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll, uh¡­¡± She trails off with a frown.

    I laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ll get your chance to figure it out.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re talking about the test, it won¡¯t be about combat.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the Grand Hall. They train the best combat casters in the kingdom. They trained Dunwayne, for saints¡¯ sake. I doubt they managed that by teaching him to avoid fighting. There will be combat, mark my words. And if Mr. Four Affinities is the kind of man I think he is, he¡¯ll take the opportunity to get even.¡± Arthur is Robert¡¯s antithesis and I seriously embarrassed him. A peaceful man would be tempted to throw a punch.

    ¡°¡­did you say four affinities?¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-54

    The next day, the team gathers in front of my house, lured by the temptation of Geneva¡¯s breakfast. We look ready for a day of trouble.

    Alana is wearing her usual armor, the gray breastplate showing more dents than I remember. Gauntlets cover her forearms but that¡¯s it, as she prefers speed over full protection. There exists metals that can make full plate armor as light as leather, but the cost for both the metal and the blacksmith to forge it are absurdly expensive. Enough to give even my, or rather Kierra¡¯s, incredible wealth pause.

    I will get her something better before the campaign into the Bleak Peaks. I don¡¯t care if I have to secretly take her measurements in her sleep. I have no intention of leaving her side but that freezing hellscape has claimed the lives of thousands more experienced and far better armed than her. When it comes to protecting her, no measure is too big.

    Thankfully, Marthe has foregone trying to convince the world that summer is approaching and put on sensible clothes. The skirt has been replaced by dark pants and her shirt has sleeves. A scarf is tied around the bottom half of her face, covering her nose. I asked about it but she ignored me. She¡¯s been doing so more after realizing she can¡¯t follow through on her usual threats.

    William is dressed the same as usual. A noticeable change is the string tied to the ends of his glasses, knotted behind his head. A measure to keep them from falling off? It happened plenty of times in training. Smart. Someone could sell that. I wonder if I should say something to Maxine?

    I can¡¯t look directly at Arthur. The perverted bastard walked up to us plain as day wearing a skintight one-piece that ends before his knees, made from a slick material I¡¯ve never seen before that clings to his body like a second skin. Pulled very tight in certain areas.

    I have seen more of him than I ever wanted to and am half tempted to have Geneva burn the image from my mind. A few ¡®gentle¡¯ slaps convinced him to put on a pair of pants but staring directly at his broad chest makes me nauseous.

    Geneva brings around the carriage and we pile in. I smile as Alana sits beside me without prompting, Bell laying her small body out on her other side. Marthe forcefully pushes William into the middle after Arthur climbs in but she needn¡¯t have bothered. The horny seadog got a little too close during training one day and now has a hand-shaped burn on his arm. She threatened to ¡®burn it off¡¯ next time and he¡¯s yet to try his luck.

    Once we¡¯re on our way, Alana clears her throat. ¡°A quick word. We¡¯ve done well in our training and I have every confidence in this team. That does not mean we can be complacent. We have no idea what this test will bring or who we will face. The key is to work together. Remember our training. As long as we fight together, there is no obstacle we can¡¯t overcome.¡±

    There¡¯s a beat of silence before Marthe sarcastically grumbles, ¡°Rousing speech, leader.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the leader,¡± I say with a smile. Sorry, Alana. Your motivational words rolled off me too, though it was cute watching you try. Her problem is she forgot who she¡¯s speaking to. This is not a group for team spirit. ¡°The speech is my job. Let me show you how it¡¯s done.¡±

    I clear my throat dramatically, stopping once everyone has their eyes on me. ¡°You bastards have been living the good life, haven¡¯t you?!¡± I snap, making poor William jump. ¡°Eating my food and drinking my liquor like there¡¯s no tomorrow. Well, time to pay up. We better pass this evaluation without a hitch. If we fail, it¡¯ll definitely be your faults and I¡¯ll take it out of your asses!¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Alana glares at me. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a speech! You just threatened them!¡±

    ¡°And I meant it. I¡¯m sure they feel much more motivated.¡± My speech had all the crucial ingredients. A leader brimming with confidence, a mix of anticipation and gratitude by bringing up Geneva¡¯s cooking, and imminent danger to their well-being.

    Marthe scoffs and avoids my gaze. A dismissal on the surface but I note she doesn¡¯t voice any criticisms.

    William reflexively tries to push up his glasses despite the fact they haven¡¯t budged a centimeter. ¡°I am quite motivated. A threat from Lady Tome is¡­meaningful.¡±

    ¡°See?¡±

    ¡°Oi.¡± Arthur leans forward. ¡°Let¡¯s make a wager on whoever can take out the most shrimps.¡± Is he referring to the other initiates? ¡°If I win, I get that succubus.¡± He licks his lips as his eyes flick toward the wall and Geneva who lies beyond.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Saints, why is this bastard always trying to make a wager? ¡°Absolutely¡ª¡±

    [My summoner, a moment.]

    Hm?

    [I would ask you to take the deal.]

    ¡­you¡¯re kidding.

    [Hearing the boy speak, I have become curious about Graywatch. The Grimoires never tried to influence the coast and our information of the area is lacking.]

    You¡¯re okay with sleeping with this beast?

    [I could always use a snack.]

    But him? I could understand if it were Alana but he has a common earth affinity. You¡¯re salivating over dirt.

    [My. If I didn¡¯t know better, I would say you are jealous, Lou.]

    And you do know better because you¡¯re in my head! I am not jealous. I am disturbed you could be attracted to this walking wall of grotesque masculinity in any way. Which I doubt you are and if you want information, there are plenty of other ways to go about it than searching the mind of an idiot. What are you planning?

    [Perhaps I just want to play with a new toy.]

    Along with the words, she sends a feeling through our mental communication. It¡¯s¡­difficult to describe in words. Hunger, power, desire, malevolence, playfulness, and so much more. I know I am seeing a tiny glimpse of the true Geneva. The one she hides beneath the mask of a sweet thrall. Like a beast hiding in a sheep¡¯s skin to better aide the shepherd who contracted it. A beast has beastly instincts that can only be contained for so long before crying for release.

    Ah, it can¡¯t be easy for her. A circle seven don may as well be a queen among the succubi and I have her driving me and a bunch of what must feel like insects to her around as if she¡¯s a peasant laborer.

    [It is my pleasure to serve you, my summoner. However, I would like something for myself sometimes. I believe you would have no problem with me using the boy to¡­relieve myself. I can obtain useful information at the same time.]

    Always thinking of me. You¡¯re right. Arthur is the perfect target. I am vehemently against the wanton use of the mental affinity but if he gives permission, it¡¯s his own fault, isn¡¯t it?

    ¡°You know what, Arty? You have yourself a bet.¡± Alana isn¡¯t the only to give me a startled look. William is about to speak but Marthe beats him to it.

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t trade your elementals for favors?¡± she bites out, eyes accusing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t. Geo asked me to accept.¡± That gives her pause. ¡°Surprised me to. The thought of this dog anywhere near my sweet thrall makes my stomach turn but as a caring summoner, I try and oblige her when I can.¡±

    Arthur laughs. ¡°As expected, women can¡¯t get enough of me. Next, it¡¯ll be your¡ª¡±

    I shut him up with a kick to the shin, grinning maliciously as he cradles it with a hand. ¡°Don¡¯t make me pull your tongue out. Here¡¯s the deal. If you contribute more than me, you get her for a night. I do more than you, she gets you for a night. Fair?¡±

    He looks up with a frown. ¡°Are you stupid? Don¡¯t I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Arthur!¡± William speaks up with a rare volume, cutting him off. ¡°When offered a deal with favorable terms, it¡¯s wise to accept it before the offer is taken back.¡±

    What a good friend. Too bad you don¡¯t know you¡¯re dooming him. The moment he accepts, he¡¯s sealed his fate.

    Arthur claps William on the shoulder. ¡°How do I know you won¡¯t cheat. Or take it back?¡± He may be stupid but he knows to dig deeper when a deal sounds too good to be true. Not smart enough to walk away. Or perhaps he¡¯s just ignorant.

    His eagerness to be with Geneva shows he knows something about succubi but does he know what they are? What they truly are? Or has all he heard been the very wrong, overly sexualized rumors spread by the Grimoires to entrap horny noblemen?

    ¡°I won¡¯t take it back because you¡¯re going to lose. Have you forgotten our training already?¡± He grunts, the closest he can come to acknowledging my superiority. ¡°Alana will be the judge to keep things fair. I dare you to call her dishonest.¡±

    He doesn¡¯t, his gaze briefly flicking to the hand she lightly drops to the hilt of her sword.

    Alana sighs, moving her hand. ¡°I take vows and promises seriously so I¡¯ll do this if you want but Arthur, I suggest you don¡¯t. This is Lou we¡¯re talking about. How many times has she rejected you? If she¡¯s saying yes, it¡¯s because she¡¯s planning something. You¡¯re going to get yourself in trouble.¡±

    I look at her with betrayed eyes. She ignores me.

    ¡°Trouble? Ha! A seaman lives for trouble!¡± He sticks out a meaty hand. ¡°You¡¯ve got yourself a deal.¡±

    I take his hand, hating how sweaty it is, and give it a firm shake. ¡°Do your best.¡± To survive, I mean. I don¡¯t want to imagine what Geneva can do in a night if she puts her mind to it. Just don¡¯t do anything that¡¯s going to cause me any trouble.

    I hear her chuckle in my mind.

    ¡°At least we won¡¯t need him by then,¡± Alana mutters.

    ¡°What about you?¡± I ask her. ¡°Want to up the stakes on our own bet?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t joke,¡± she says quickly. ¡°There¡¯s a reason I challenged you with a written test.¡±

    I poke her cheek when she frowns. ¡°You¡¯re upset about the gap between us but there¡¯s no need. You¡¯ll never be stronger than me.¡± I laugh, throwing in a few fake winces as she hits me. I give her a few moments to vent before grabbing her wrists and carefully putting her hands in her lap, trying hard not to giggle at her scowl. ¡°You¡¯ll be strong though. At least on the level of Kierra.¡± I¡¯ll make sure of that. She needs to be if I want her to stay with me for a long time.

    She huffs. ¡°Come to think of it, I¡¯ve never seen her fight.¡±

    ¡°She could fight Dunwayne.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡±

    ¡°Would I lie to you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    I poke her cheek again, dodging the hands trying to keep me away. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not now.¡±

    ¡°¡­no, you¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°You can tell?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not hard to read, Lou.¡± It¡¯s not the first time someone has said so. ¡°Which begs the question, what in the abyss does she see in you?¡±

    I bite my lip to keep from laughing. ¡°One day, you¡¯re going to find out.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-55

    ¡°How much do you all know about the Beast Sanctuary?¡±

    My eyes move about the carriage. Arthur is smiling to himself as he stares blankly at a wall. I don¡¯t need Bell to tell me that he¡¯s lost in a disgusting delusion, likely involving Geneva. Marthe is as hesitant to engage as always. Doesn¡¯t even bother to look up. Alana pouts and turns away from me. I can guess why she¡¯s upset but she¡¯d beat me if I say it out loud.

    I stare at William until he clears his throat. ¡°The Beast Sanctuary is a reserve hosting the largest collection of domesticated manabeasts in the kingdom. They provide a wealth of materials used by many artisans, compile knowledge on manabeasts for hunters, and train the mounts used by many orders.¡±

    ¡°Oh! You did good, a very comprehensive answer.¡± It¡¯s important to praise the children when they do well.

    He clears his throat and turns away with a flushed face, his slightly pursed lips showing he understands my thoughts.

    ¡°Has anyone been there?¡±

    I was prepared for another round of silence but Marthe surprises me by looking up. ¡°I¡¯ve been.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    Her eyes bore into me. I take the attention with slightly raised brows, patient enough for her to make up her clearly troubled mind. After a few moments, she lets out a long breath and sits up.

    ¡°My teacher¡­the one who taught me and told me to go to the Hall. She¡¯s a graduate and has connections to the Sanctuary. I spend the end of the week there, helping around for a little extra money.¡±

    ¡°Tender or roadie?¡±

    ¡°You been?¡±

    ¡°You may remember I quarreled with a prince. My punishment was to spend a few days assisting the Sanctuary.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯d they throw you?¡±

    ¡°With the Temple.¡±

    She laughs. It¡¯s only a small chuckle but it may be the first time I¡¯ve heard her laugh without a hint of scorn. Praise the saints, miracles do happen. ¡°You must have had fun.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I had a blast.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I bet,¡± Alana says bitterly. Bitterly enough to garner Marthe¡¯s attention but I wave for her to focus back on me.

    ¡°Ignore her. Hey, seadog!¡± Bell, wake him up.

    With a quick jump and a flick of her tail, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m the only one who sees it lengthen as she spins, she slaps Arthur out of his daydream. He sputters before turning to me in anger. ¡°You¡¯re begging to die!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m terrified, truly. Were you paying attention?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter? We just go in and smack around a few seaslugs.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a no. Pay attention. They must have chosen the Sanctuary for a reason so the more we all know, the better.¡±

    ¡°You just like to hear the sound of your own voice.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Too bad for you that you have to listen to me.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡±

    He¡¯s interrupted by Bell¡¯s hiss, the imp showing off some impressive fangs. I can see he wants to lash out but he proves he has some good sense after all by shutting up and sitting back.

    ¡°Good. Marthe, catch me if I get anything wrong. The reason why I¡¯m insistent we are prepared is because of how unique the Sanctuary is. Using magic, they have created several different reservations optimized for the raising of monsters. Within its walls are several different environments. Plains, forests, rocky areas, water features, deserts, and beaches. Understand? Good.

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    ¡°We don¡¯t need to go into the breeders and ranchers. They¡¯re the people in charge of managing the business side of the Sanctuary. The groups most likely to be involved in this test, if anyone, are the tenders and the Temple. The tenders are exactly what they sound like. They tend to the place, doing the menial labor and maintenance needed to keep it running. The Temple¡­they¡¯re a little special. They¡¯re the group that does the taming the Sanctuary is known for.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d wager it¡¯s the Temple,¡± Marthe says. ¡°The test will involve monsters, you can bet on it. Monsters mean the Temple.¡±

    ¡°I agree. In which case, I¡¯m warning everyone right now. Be very careful about slaying the beasts. They have a¡­thing about them.¡±

    The redhead snorts at my drastic understatement.

    ¡°People who want to protect monsters?¡± Arthur scoffs. ¡°The currents must have washed away their brains.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more nuanced than that. I¡¯m not saying don¡¯t kill a monster that¡¯s trying to kill you. Just¡­read the situation. To help you understand, these people wrestle monsters regularly. Not fight. Wrestle. Killing something is easy. Challenging a creature that wants to eat you to a contest of strength, beating it, and putting it down without killing it is something entirely different.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, crazy,¡± Marthe adds.

    ¡°Just the way Lou likes them,¡± Alana snipes.

    I give her a look. What does that say about you? But this is something else I can¡¯t say without encouraging her to beat me.

    ¡°Eh-hem. So, in the event we meet anyone with strange tattoos, you let me do the talking. I speak Temple.¡±

    ¡°They speak another language?¡± William asks. ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Willie, you don¡¯t have to speak another language to make no sense. Trust me.¡± His eyes reflect his confusion. Nothing I can do about that. The Temple is something that needs to be experienced.

    I wonder if I can make some time in the test to see a friend? If I¡¯m lucky, the location will be close enough for me to dash off for a few minutes. I don¡¯t get nearly enough chances to visit.

    After my monologue, it doesn¡¯t take long for the humongous stone wall that encompasses the whole of the Sanctuary to come into view, three times the height of the wall surrounding the king¡¯s palace. Understandable. It¡¯s the last line of defense to contain thousands of monsters. I wouldn¡¯t complain if it was twice its current size.

    Alana wanted to leave early, earlier than even yesterday, but I shut her down. Every initiate is thinking the same thing. Better to go leisurely if we¡¯re going to have to be in line no matter what.

    Fate is on my side. I look out of the window as the carriage slows. We¡¯re close enough that I can make out the two large wooden doors of the gate. Three carriages are ahead of us, along with a group of people dressed in dark clothes and wide-brimmed hats. ¡°Looks like the tenders,¡± I tell my team as I lean back. ¡°Ready yourselves. The test can start the moment we reach the gate.¡±

    The air in the carriage is tense as we wait for the carriages ahead of us to move. After a few minutes, there¡¯s a knock. I open the door and step out, motioning the two tenders standing by to make space for the others. ¡°Good morning, gents!¡±

    ¡°Your daddy¡¯s a gent,¡± one of them says, eyeing me up and down. ¡°Name and number?¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome. Thirty-seven.¡±

    I hand out the token I received at registration. The tender waves it off and looks at his partner who¡¯s holding a stack of papers. He flips two pages. ¡°Got a Tome here, thirty-seven confirmed.¡±

    ¡°Are all members of your registered team here?¡± the first asks.

    ¡°All five ready and accounted for.¡±

    He looks past me, his eyes focusing on Geneva who stands at the back of the group. ¡°She here to watch?¡±

    I¡¯m surprised he hasn¡¯t commented on her appearance. Then again, this is the Sanctuary. I¡¯m sure he sees weirder things every day.

    ¡°Wait, wait.¡± His partner flips a few more pages. ¡°I¡¯ve got a note for her here. Says she¡¯s a summoner and may arrive with more bodies than the expected five.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Alright, then. We got to get through this whole spiel so don¡¯t interrupt me.¡± The tender clears his throat. ¡°Welcome to the Sanctuary. We have been told to warn you that the moment you pass through the gate you will be on one of the reservations, the Rusty Step. No carriages will be allowed past this point. There is a clearly marked road. The beasties have been trained to avoid it but your safety is not guaranteed anywhere in the Sanctuary. Your survival depends entirely on your ability.¡±

    He pauses to meet each of our gazes, nodding to himself in the ensuing silence. ¡°Hey, show them the picture.¡±

    His partner turns his papers around, showing a black and white drawing. The creature looks like a mix between a house cat and a weasel, with a long narrow body and two large, pointed ears atop its head. ¡°This is a mamaroon. Your job is to hunt down as many of the little bastards as you can get your hands on. Five points if you bring a corpse, twenty-five if you bring ¡®em alive. Don¡¯t care how you do it. Tomorrow, midnight, you come here and we count bodies.¡±

    A monster hunt, huh. The creatures themselves look fairly weak from the picture but manabeasts should never be underestimated. The challenge of catching them alive makes it interesting. Not to mention as it gets closer to the deadline, we¡¯ll need to watch for other teams looking to bolster their score. I note he didn¡¯t say how many points we need to pass. That¡¯s going to make people anxious.

    ¡°You will also be given a guide. The guide is there to answer your questions but will do nothing else to help you, not even if you¡¯re about to die. Trust me, those Temple bastards are crazy. They¡¯re also being paid to evaluate you so watch what you say and do around them. Hey, who¡¯s the guide for thirty-seven?¡±

    ¡°Uh, let me see¡­¡±

    My head snaps up as I catch a familiar scent, lips turning up in a smile as I see the figure jogging toward us.

    ¡°Ah, I got it. Says C¡ª¡±

    ¡°Cloud!¡± I shout happily.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-56

    As punishment for fighting the prince, I was temporarily drafted to the tenders and the bastards sent me to the least desired job in the Sanctuary, assisting the Temple.

    Specifically, repairing the damaged ring where the lunatics wrestle with monsters, or as they say, ¡®commune with their brethren¡¯. I¡¯m not surprised they shoved the job off to me. No one wants to get into an enclosed space with an unrestrained beast with a mouth big enough to swallow their whole head. It takes nerves of steel to turn your back to the thing and work. If I were the old me, I would have outright refused.

    However, because of our guide, I can look back on the experience with a smile.

    She looks good, despite the horrendous outfits she prefers. She¡¯s wearing the same sleeveless black shirt as the tenders, showing off the tattoos the members of the Temple are known for; thick black rings over her wrists and throat, along with a more intricate design on her chest I can only see the edges of. Paired with it is an ugly brown skirt that brings back bad memories. The garment is not exclusive to women and seeing a man¡¯s hairy legs combined with the coarse fabric is absolutely horrendous.

    Her dark skin has the healthy glow of perspiration, her brown eyes wide with joy at seeing me, which warms my heart. She smiles, showing off teeth that are a little wrong. Are a few more of them sharper? Her mouth is looking quite predatory.

    The usual braid she keeps her hair in is undone, her thick, curly hair falling past her shoulder in a shaggy wave. Because of it, I almost miss the change.

    Stepping forward, I reach up and grab her ears. Instead of smooth skin, I feel smooth fur. Running my fingers over them, I can feel they¡¯re longer than they were, ending in furry tips. The fur goes down the back of her neck but ends at her shoulders, my fingers once again feeling smooth skin.

    ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding, huh?¡± I say, dropping my hands. The Temple has a strange fascination with monsters. They live with them, train them, and for the most extreme members, try to be them. They don¡¯t come out and say it but they have melders, people with the physical affinity, who help the most devout believers to become closer to the monsters they¡¯ve chosen to emulate.

    Cloud and her family have chosen a creature that is a mix between a dog and a bear called the brueer. Tall as a man and as bulky as a carriage, with paws big enough to smother my face. It¡¯s known for its strength and vitality, which is why Cloud focuses on her own physical strength. I guess she¡¯s further down the path.

    ¡°How weak our flesh is,¡± she says with a smile. ¡°So let us don their fur and wield their claws.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s you.¡±

    ¡°I am happy to see you again, honored sister.¡± Without a care for the people around us, she cups my face and briefly brushes our lips together. As if I¡¯ll let her get away with just that. I loop an arm around her neck and pull her back, deepening the kiss. She chuckles against my lips but quickly responds, wrapping her arms around me.

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    Someone clears their throat. We ignore them.

    Much harder to ignore the rock to the back of my head. I pull away with a scowl. Alana put down the rock in her hand. ¡°We still have a test to do and there are people behind us.¡± She looks past me to Cloud. ¡°Cloud.¡±

    ¡°Alana~ I see you are still jealously protecting your territory. Have you not secured your position as a wife?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s a wife?!¡±

    ¡°You two can catch up later.¡± I try to step back but Cloud¡¯s hands stay put. My brows go up. She¡¯s gotten stronger too. ¡°You¡¯re getting there but¡­¡± I move away with more strength and easily break her hold.

    ¡°As impressive as usual, honored sister.¡± She stares at me hungrily. ¡°We should have a proper contest.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. First things first.¡± I face my team. ¡°Team, this is my¡­¡± Wow, what is the proper word to describe our relationship? She¡¯s claimed me as a ¡®sister¡¯ but her intentions toward me are anything but familial. On the other hand, we haven¡¯t slept together yet, so I can¡¯t call her my lover. Friend is too distant. Hm. Forget it.

    ¡°This is Cloudy Blood Moon. Ignore her parents¡¯ naming sense and call her Cloud. Cloud, this is my team for the qualifiers. The redhead is Marthe, she¡¯s allergic to common courtesy. The skinny one with the glasses tied around his head is William. The big one is Arthur.¡±

    ¡°My sister¡¯s friends are welcome to my fire the same as my sister.¡± She eyes Arthur. Ugh. That bastard is just her type, isn¡¯t he? I smack her stomach with my hand. There is no way I can stomach watching or hearing that. ¡°You don¡¯t approve?¡± she asks.

    ¡°He¡¯s a dog.¡± Wait, wrong thing to say. ¡°He¡¯s a disgusting, annoying, dog with absolutely no manners and a derisive attitude toward women.¡±

    ¡°Rahhhh!! Don¡¯t think because you beat me once I won¡¯t kick your ass woman!¡±

    Cloud licks her lips as she stares at him. ¡°I like them full of energy.¡±

    Arthur stops glaring at me to give her a smug smile. ¡°You¡¯ve got better taste than her.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say so. Honored sister is simply a picky eater.¡±

    ¡°Hey, seriously, can you guys move this lovefest along?¡± a tender says impatiently. ¡°We¡¯ve got other customers.¡±

    ¡°Geo, pull the carriage aside and catch up. Let¡¯s get going,¡± Alana says, starting down the road.

    I follow her with a smile. She¡¯s really getting comfortable giving orders if she¡¯s ordering around my elementals. Or maybe that¡¯s just anger. Probably anger. ¡°So, Cloud. How much help are you allowed to give us?¡±

    She turns away from making eyes with the seadog. ¡°I am allowed to answer any questions in relation to your task, the monsters within the Sanctuary, and the Sanctuary itself. I won¡¯t volunteer any information or help in any way. The tender spoke truth. If you fail, you suffer the consequences alone.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re evaluating us on what?¡±

    ¡°Everything. Strength, efficiency, creativity. How well you can survive in the wild. How well you fight off your peers. How ruthless you are and your level of cooperation. The instructors looking for their next apprentice or successor want to know as much as possible about you.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful.¡±

    ¡°Are you worried, Lou? There is no need. I have seen all of the cubs who have come to my home and they are no match for your wife, let alone you.¡±

    Alana whips around and is about to shout at her but she pauses. Likely realizing that if she answers, she¡¯s acknowledging that the words ¡®your wife¡¯ refer to her. She swallows her words with a grimace and Cloud chuckles.

    ¡°Ah. I didn¡¯t think about sleeping arrangements.¡± Why would I? The test could have taken place anywhere, including a place with easy access to beds. How difficult would it have been for them to tell us to pack camping gear if they knew we were going to be sleeping outdoors?

    [There are blankets in the carriage.]

    Don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without her.

    ¡°You are not easily embarrassed, are you?¡± Cloud asks.

    ¡°No. Why? You plan on doing something shameful?¡±

    She leans toward me to whisper in my ear. ¡°If you want me to keep my hands off the boys, you¡¯ll have to hold me down.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-57

    The Rusty Step is wholly unimpressive. Nothing but dry reddish-brown earth baking beneath a hot autumn sun. In some areas, the ground is flat as a board. In other places, the dirt is packed into small hills that provide minimum shade. Little spots of green shrubbery break up the monotonous color. Large birds circle overhead, casting darting shadows.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± William¡¯s voice trails off, his manners failing him.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shitshow. Dryer than my gramps¡¯ chapped lips.¡± Arthur kicks the ground, coughing on the cloud of dust he raises. ¡°Fuck! How is a seaman supposed to survive this crap?¡±

    ¡°For once, I¡¯m with Arthur.¡± Alana stared at our surroundings with a disapproving smile. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be here for two days. This is going to be¡­uncomfortable.¡±

    ¡°Dust is going to get everywhere,¡± Marthe complained with a slow shake of her head.

    ¡°You all are being too negative!¡± I say brightly, injecting some much-needed positivity into the gloomy mood. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s no palace but things could be far worse. The qualifier has already started. That means you¡¯re being judged right now, including your whining. Am I right, Cloud?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Predators are revered for their strength and speed but no hunt is successful without patience and determination.¡±

    ¡°For those who don¡¯t speak Temple, that was a yes. So, let¡¯s get to work people.¡±

    Alana snorts. ¡°The moon might be blue tonight. Lou¡¯s right. We have a job to do, no matter how unpleasant. First things first. Cloud, what can you tell us about these beasts? Can you tell us where to find them?¡±

    ¡°Giving you their direction is not allowed. I can only answer questions.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Question then. What type of shelter do they look for or make?¡±

    Cloud grins. ¡°They are excellent burrowers. They build large dens a man¡¯s height beneath the ground, the large spaces connected by small tunnels few predators would dare to squeeze into.¡±

    ¡°Underground.¡± Alana scans the open surroundings and scowls. ¡°That is as helpful as saying they¡¯re somewhere. Can you be any more specific?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Saints. Arthur? Looks like you¡¯re working overtime.¡±

    ¡°Raahhhh! Have the waves washed away your mind? Randomly diving into the earth will eat through my mana faster than a seaman can spend his gold on the first night ashore. I¡¯m amazing but you have to get me something specific, fuck!¡±

    Alana huffs. ¡°How about it, Cloud? Going to give us something specific?¡±

    ¡°Ask your questions.¡±

    ¡°Move aside, shiny.¡± Marthe motions Alana back and faces Cloud. ¡°Can you tell us what the beasties eat?¡±

    Cloud grins. ¡°They mainly prey on insects. They circle corpses and feasts on the beetles drawn to carrion. Rarely, they will eat scorpions. Not often, as the poison in their stingers can stop a man¡¯s heart in seconds.¡±

    ¡°What else?¡± Marthe asks.

    ¡°Your question needs more direction.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Are they territorial? Will they fight off invaders?¡±

    ¡°Depends on the strength of the den. If the den is small, they will retreat through their tunnels. If the den is strong, they will push out other creatures so they can expand. They will challenge snakes. Even jackals.¡±

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    ¡°Which sex is bigger?¡±

    ¡°The males.¡±

    ¡°Are the males aggressive over females or their young?¡±

    ¡°Yes to both.¡±

    ¡°Does any of this have a point?¡± I ask. We have been standing under the hot sun doing nothing for over five minutes. I¡¯m not the only one getting anxious. William is shuffling his feet, too tactful to speak up. I¡¯d have thought Arthur would have exploded by now but he¡¯s content leering at Cloud, ugh.

    Marthe raises a hand. ¡°I¡¯m working, shiny.¡±

    I narrow my eyes at the dismissal. Luckily for her, Alana grabs my arm. When my frown doesn¡¯t abate, she loops our arms together, giving me a look. ¡°Just for you,¡± I grumble, turning away. I¡¯m also hoping there¡¯s a point to these seemingly random questions.

    ¡°Are they hostile to other dens?¡±

    ¡°Yes. When two separate dens meet, the alpha males will fight each other. The weaker den is subsumed.¡±

    ¡°What about dens destroyed by predators? Do they take in strays?¡±

    ¡°Rarely the males. They will take the females and the young.¡±

    ¡°Do they have predators?¡±

    ¡°Snakes. They are the only creatures brave enough to hunt them in their tunnels. Second to them are the birds of prey, quick enough to grab them while they are feeding. Beyond that, any creature that can get their claws on them.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡°You finished?¡± I ask with a raised brow.

    She scoffs. ¡°Yeah. You act like you¡¯ve never hunted a manabeast before.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t.¡±

    She glares at me. ¡°Should have guessed. The big idiot said he can¡¯t do a wide search¡ª¡±

    ¡°Who you calling idiot?!¡±

    ¡°¡ªso like he said, we have to narrow the search. They eat carrion beetles. That means we don¡¯t have to struggle to pull them out of their little dens. We can kill any thing and leave it as bait. Catch the ones that show up for dinner and then follow their tracks back to their den. Bait the rest out.¡±

    Cloud hums. ¡°We are all driven by our hungers.¡±

    Huh. There was a point.

    ¡°Bait and trap. Okay, we have our strategy. We need to get moving. Establish a camp, hopefully next to a water source. Then we can go about searching for a den. If it seems unlikely, we can move on to baiting.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad we¡¯re finally moving.¡± I look at Cloud. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll want to point us in the direction of water?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Thought so.¡±

    Alana claps me on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re the fastest. We¡¯ll stick to the road and keep our eyes out for any good shelters. Maybe we¡¯ll come across a den if we¡¯re lucky. You find us some water.¡±

    Oo. Really accustomed to giving orders now, aren¡¯t you? ¡°Having fun bossing me around?¡±

    ¡°Maybe I would if you quit talking back,¡± she snipes but there¡¯s no heat in her voice. If I¡¯m not wrong, her lips twitch holding back a smile. ¡°Get going already.¡±

    ¡°Alright, Alana.¡± I point a threatening finger at Arthur. ¡°You better behave while I¡¯m gone.¡±

    ¡°What do you think I¡¯m going to do, huh?¡±

    Nothing, because Bell is watching. My little imp casually settles at Alana¡¯s heels. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what you¡¯re looking for?¡± Marthe asks.

    ¡°Water. Nothing difficult about that.¡±

    ¡°¡­stupid shiny.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry your pretty head, okay? I have this under control.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll burn you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m terrified.¡± I start backing away from the group. ¡°Remember, it¡¯s not a bunch a weasels we need to look out for. Other teams are about and I¡¯m sure we¡¯ve pissed off plenty of people between us.¡± Especially Mr. Prodigy. I¡¯m not at all threatened by his four affinities but he could do a number on my team.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± Alana assures me.

    I know. Bell is here after all. My little saint, remember you are posing as an imp with a coefficient of less than two hundred. No opening the earth to swallow anyone¡­unless Alana or Cloud are in mortal danger.

    [Not the redhead, Master Lou?]

    Haah. No. She has made it quite clear that she has no intentions of getting along with me and I¡¯m no hero. She¡¯s pretty but not to the level where she can compromise my judgment with a smile.

    Don¡¯t bring up the boys. I would pray for Arthur to die in an ambush if I weren¡¯t certain Alana would jump in front of the danger meant to kill him. Damn future saint.

    I wave them goodbye before running off, making sure to keep a pace that isn¡¯t too fast. I wait until I am far away enough that my figure is hard to track before speeding up.

    A dust cloud forms in my wake as the surroundings blur. My eyes are on a swivel, searching for clumps of green. Marthe looks down on me for having no experience hunting manabeasts, but that doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t have natural knowledge. Plants need water to grow. Patches of green means the water needed to sustain them.

    I bound to the top of a hill. A ¡®film¡¯ drops over my eyes, magnifying my vision. Hm, let¡¯s see. A couple birds circling another hill, with squawks that sound like a madwoman losing her voice. A little further out is a pack of doglike creatures with oversized ears and spots on the lower half of their bodies. I can faintly hear their yips as they trot over the dry earth.

    A suspiciously small hill. Can I call it a hill if it¡¯s only a little taller than myself? Something¡¯s not right about it. The top¡­is it too flat? Too smooth? I can¡¯t be sure but there¡¯s no problem avoiding it.

    No sign of greenery but those doggies have to wet their muzzles somewhere. I quickly hop off my hill and sprint toward them. Looks like I¡¯ll be done with my errand earlier than I thought.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-58

    I closely examine the tracks of the doglike monsters and sniff at the ground. I can smell several other somethings, too mixed to be a herd, all headed in the same direction. I¡¯m hoping that means a watering hole. I¡¯ll follow them for now. If nothing pans out, I¡¯ll go in the opposite direction. I still have the form of a dusk hawk to search from the air if I need to but I rather not take on such a weak form with much larger predators about.

    I follow the tracks, capping my speed. Don¡¯t want to scare the little beasties off. My pace is closer to a brisk walk rather than a run. Hmph. Who would have thought the day would come when I could consider monsters slow? Wish they¡¯d hurry up.

    It does give me the chance to explore. The few plants around are interesting. The majority are a mixture of shrubs and small grasses in muted shades of gold and brown. Ugly things. Someone might see beauty in the twisted appendages and small leaves but I¡¯m too accustomed to neatly trimmed gardens full of colorful blooms. These plants seem pitiful in comparison.

    The trees are interesting. Stunted trunks that make up for their lack of height in the width of their branches. Healthier looking grasses grow in their shade. Isn¡¯t that backward? I¡¯d have thought the tree would starve the others but it is a meagre shelter in this wasteland.

    A flash of movement draws my attention and I dash over. Whatever it is notices me and tries to run but is slow, far too slow. I grab a warm, fuzzy body, holding it up as it kicks its little legs.

    Aw, it¡¯s cute. It resembles a bunny but is small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, with soft golden fur and big, brown eyes. It lacks the long ears that I¡¯d expect. I can¡¯t find any ears at all. There are thicker patches of fur on the sides of its head. I try to feel under one but stop as the little cutie lets out a series of panicked squeaks and kicks like mad.

    ¡°Okay, it was my fault.¡±

    It doesn¡¯t calm down, kicking its little legs frantically. ¡°What¡¯s got you in a fit?¡± I glance around and quickly notice it. Perched on the end of my boot is a bug. Two pinchers attached to a small, bulbous body and a tail currently curved into a crescent with a wicked stinger at the end.

    The moment I notice it, the scorpion strikes, its tail jabbing at my ankle. It pierces the fabric of my pants but is stopped by my skin. I casually reach down and grab the little bug around the middle. Its stinger hits the back of my hand with no effect but it¡¯s not smart enough to realize when its beaten, continuously trying to break down an impenetrable wall.

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    The little cutie twitches so much I think it¡¯s going to have a heart attack so I slip the scorpion into my pocket. It¡¯s good bait according to Cloud. If that doesn¡¯t work, I¡¯ll drop it on Arthur and Cloud if they get frisky, heh.

    With the scary scorpion out of sight, my new friend finally starts to settle down. As much as it can. The timid thing can¡¯t help trembling, shutting its eyes tightly. I absently mutter nonsense to it as I resume following the doglike monsters.

    It takes forever, or at least it feels that way, but I reach my goal. In the distance, I can just make out a swath of color. A quick drop of a ¡®film¡¯ and my vision is magnified to the point I can make out individual reeds lining a small pond.

    Thank the saints, I¡¯ve found water.

    And I¡¯m not the only one.

    Aside from the doglike monsters, all manner of creatures have found their way here. Some are small, including family to the ball of fluff that has settled in my hand and other tiny bodies that dart through the plant life. I¡¯d count the dogs amongst the ¡®small¡¯ life in the face of the bulky wildebeest that have claimed a corner of the watering hole for themselves, baring their horns toward anything that approaches.

    Then there¡¯s the massive bastard who has claimed the entire far side of the watering hole for his own.

    I want to call it a lizard but no lizard can grow to that size. It towers over me, with a bulky body that feels like a house on four legs covered in dark green scales. A heavy tail swipes the earth behind it, kicking up dirt and scattering any creature with thoughts of getting close. A giant frill at the base of its neck, a paler green with streaks of yellow and pink, trembles with each massive breath the creature takes.

    Two massive bull horns sprout from the sides of its head, too far up to be a threat to anything here. The problems are the spikes on its hoof-like feet. They are small on the beast but small to it is enormous to everything else. They¡¯re as thick as my head and as long as my arm. Saints preserve anything unfortunate enough to be kicked by it.

    I thought the instructors were bastards sending us after a burrowing species. Now I see that they were a being lenient. They could have sent us after these walking hills. I can¡¯t imagine how many bright-eyed initiates would be crushed under those flat feet or pin-cushioned by those spikes. I know I have nothing to fear but I¡¯m a little hesitant to do anything to it. That size is intimidating.

    Good thing I don¡¯t have to fight it. My job was simply to find the water. Bell, status. And point me in your direction, straight shot if you will.

    [Master Lou, the others have encountered a team on the road. For the moment, they are speaking but negotiations seem to be breaking down.]

    [Nothing of concern, my summoner. I have eyes on the situation.] My worry is smothered before it can gain any strength as I hear Geneva¡¯s voice. [I think your friends are going to have fun.]

    And the worry has come back. Geneva¡¯s definition of fun is nothing I want Alana involved in. Following her words is a pull, a voiceless whisper giving me direction. Holding my new friend close to my chest, I sprint back to my team.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-59

    Alana sighed as Lou¡¯s figure was swallowed by a dust cloud, a familiar pang of envy stabbing her heart. She wouldn¡¯t consider herself vain, but she was proud of her talent. It changed the direction of her life. Changed her from a disregarded bastard to a James daughter. To a future knight.

    Coming to the Grand Hall, she¡¯d been warned that her talent wouldn¡¯t mean as much. The best of the best gathered at the school upon the floating land. A star surrounded by other stars can¡¯t hope to shine as bright as it would if it were alone in the dark sky.

    She knew it but a part of her couldn¡¯t help but hope. Couldn¡¯t help but nurture a little pride. She wasn¡¯t just any James daughter. She had the coveted light affinity. The magic of the first saint, a man who wielded a white blade that was unrivaled by any steel or magical metal. A deity amongst men who descended onto battlefields and burned entire armies in a brilliant radiance that could rival the sun.

    She was special.

    Seeing the Grand Hall didn¡¯t dissuade her, despite the vast shadow it cast over the city of Quest. Meeting the instructors, men and women with the power to level cities, didn¡¯t dissuade her. Walking into a building falling into disregard while others walked into a building filled with decorations that could buy a small village didn¡¯t dissuade her. Meeting initiates with greater affinities, or even multiple affinities, didn¡¯t dissuade her.

    One day, she would return to Fort Victory and stand atop its tall walls before she led the first campaign to return victorious from the Bleak Peaks. All the children of her father¡¯s vassals who looked down on her would be knights under her command, people who would put their lives in her hands. People who would help her build a better Victory. Perhaps help her build her own territory, land granted to her beyond the mountain range.

    A shining future she would claim with her own hands, her hard work.

    Then she met Lourianne Tome. The first person who shook her belief in herself.

    What disturbed her was that Lou was nothing special. She came from a noble house with history but no influence or money. She had no training and a common fire affinity. Her personality left much to be desired, suited more for the role of a jester than a caster or a knight.

    Her background should have her amongst the other average achievers of society. She should have graduated from the Hall with no repute, joined a small guild, and spent her days in obscurity.

    Yet, Lourianne Tome was talented. Monstrously so.

    She was the only person in the kingdom with a public connection to the elves, managing to marry what amounted to an elven princess. The saints knew how that happened, as Lou never talked about it. Not even to her, something she had to admit irked.

    Then there were her elementals. The imp that posed as a pet and the thrall that posed as a servant. They never gave anything away but Alana knew. She had known servants, had been one. The thrall did not walk like a servant. The imp¡¯s gaze was too piercing for a pet.

    The most telling thing was her progress. When Alana met her, Lou was confident in her ability but still a bit hesitant. Like a newborn foal stumbling to get to its legs. In a matter of months, she transformed, growing stronger and stronger with no rhyme or reason behind it.

    She knew Kierra was a melder, someone with the physical affinity who could make skin as strong as steel. Melders may move flesh as they please but they can¡¯t completely change someone seemingly overnight. At the beginning of their training, Lou was strong and sturdy.

    Now, she could throw giants and walk into swords without balking. And something told Alana that she would only continue to grow. Faster and faster. She may be able to rival the sun but Lou¡¯s outrageous talent and incredible luck would devour it.

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    A thought that excited her¡­and terrified her.

    Because she knew, if Lou continued to grow, they would grow apart. Just as she had to leave her mother and her siblings if she wanted a better life, Lou would outgrow her and leave her behind.

    For now, Lou was chained to her side by affection. Claimed she wanted to be with her, the way a man was with a woman. She had thought it was overt sisterly affection until she saw Kierra kiss Lou passionately, in a way that could not be misunderstood. She didn¡¯t understand the nuances of a love between women, and did her best not to contemplate it deeply, but she knew about wives and mistresses. Knew how men took a fancy to a woman and filled her head with lies. How the women vying for a man¡¯s affection could tear apart a family.

    How love never lasted for long.

    She wouldn¡¯t disparage her friend by saying that Lou¡¯s feelings for her weren¡¯t real. However, she couldn¡¯t help doubting that love would last. And when it failed after one girl too many captured Lou¡¯s attention, their talent would drive them apart. She would lose¡­something she hesitated to define.

    So, she desperately wanted to close the gap between them. Yet, every day, the gap between them widened. Eventually, they would be a world apart. Each miraculous stunt Lou pulled off hammered the point home, driving her crazy.

    ¡°What are you thinking about, fearless leader?¡±

    Alana glanced over at Marthe. They had been keeping pace with each other as her team walked down the road. Cloud, their supposed guide, had fallen behind and was standing between Arthur and William. Alana expected the brute to be salivating over her but to her surprise, William seemed just as interested, hovering about them and forcefully injecting a few words into their conversation.

    A situation that wouldn¡¯t end well. She had yet to see Lou jealous, truly jealous, but if anything could do it, seeing a girl she fancied with a man she hated would do it.

    ¡°The future.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯re talking about this test.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. This test is a small step in our time here.¡±

    ¡°Cocky. You¡¯re starting to sound like a real shiny.¡±

    Alana sighed. ¡°Lou¡¯s right. That is a stupid insult.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s why it works.¡± Marthe grinned. ¡°What else am I supposed to say, huh? Is a girl who slept on the ground going to call a pristine noble dirty? All they¡¯d do is laugh. At least annoying them takes the stupid smiles off their faces.¡±

    ¡°¡­good point.¡± A sound made Alana look to the left but she quickly relaxed after spotting a ball of knotted weeds being blown by the slight breeze. ¡°You, uh, seemed comfortable at the thought of hunting manabeasts.¡±

    The redhead¡¯s smile faded and her tone turned sour. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Planning on joining a guild?¡±

    ¡°Why, not going to invite me on your little campaign past the Peaks?¡± She snorted at Alana¡¯s surprise. ¡°I heard you and Lou talking about it once.¡±

    ¡°The Bleak Peaks aren¡¯t a place I invite friends.¡±

    ¡°Only lovers.¡±

    Alana¡¯s face flushed red up to the ends of her ears. ¡°We are not lovers,¡± she hissed through grit teeth. ¡°Why does everyone keep assuming that?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not.¡±

    The redhead gave her a dubious look. ¡°Whatever. None of my business.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to answer my question?¡±

    ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s something to talk about. Not like we have anything else to do.¡± She gestured to the open dirt road ahead of them.

    ¡°Because we¡¯re letting your girlfriend do all the work.¡±

    Alana took a deep breath to calm her turbulent emotions. She wouldn¡¯t let the same provocation get her worked up twice. ¡°Fine. Quiet it is.¡±

    They marched in silence for several minutes, Alana working to ignore Arthur¡¯s boisterous voice as he told a story about wrestling a creature of the sea with a dozen limbs, each one long enough to wrap around a small boat.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to travel.¡± Alana glanced back to Marthe who refused to look up as she spoke. ¡°Go around to all the poor villages and tiny towns too small for anyone to care about them. Teach them how to cast spells. Power isn¡¯t something that should be hoarded by shinies. Magic could save so many lives but casters are too absorbed in themselves and nobles only care about profit.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­noble.¡±

    The redhead scoffed. ¡°You didn¡¯t expect that.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. I thought you were a rebel in the making.¡±

    ¡°Surprised you talked to me.¡±

    ¡°Thought I could talk you out of it. I have no idea why you hate nobles the way you do but a grudge like that will only get you killed. A waste of a good person.¡±

    ¡°¡­I might of been.¡± Marthe turned her gaze, looking off into the distance. ¡°Before my teacher found me. Showed me that there are still important things I could lose being an idiot.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like an amazing man.¡±

    Marthe scoffed. ¡°Woman. Thought you¡¯d be the last person to make that assumption.¡±

    Alana chuckled bitterly. ¡°Seems you can take a girl from the fort¡­¡±

    She was suddenly brought up short as Marthe grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop and meet the redhead¡¯s gaze. ¡°And what about you, Alana?¡± she asked as their eyes bore into one another. ¡°Are you going to lose something important being an idiot?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± She wanted to brush off the question but the tense air didn¡¯t allow her to. A strange panic welled in her gut, twisting her stomach into knots.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-60

    ¡°Oi!¡±

    A heavy hand on her shoulder jolted Alana from her thoughts. She tore her arm from Marthe¡¯s grip and faced a scowling Arthur. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean what? Are you blind, woman?¡± He raised a hand and she followed his pointing finger to a group of five crouched on the road further ahead. ¡°We¡¯ve got company. What are we going to do about it, leader?¡±

    At his shoulder, Cloud grinned, eyes wide with clear anticipation. Alana could guess how she wanted the encounter to go. ¡°Stay alert. We¡¯re going to say hello. Control yourself, seadog.¡±

    ¡°Or what?¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    The large man backpedaled from the imp at his ankle. Alana grinned at the sight but the ends trembled. Another example of Lou¡¯s strength. She needed to become stronger, much stronger.

    For now, that meant handling the five initiates who had noticed them and were getting to their feet.

    -

    ¡°Lo there!¡±

    Alana motioned for her group to come to a stop. The two teams fanned out, facing each other. She eyed the opposing leader. Unremarkable except for the fact that he was a bit older than most initiates, a few years past twenty if she had to guess, with a neatly trimmed moustache.

    The four beside him, two on either side, were younger, the youngest barely past a boy. They were nervous. The gaze of a girl on the left glowed with channeled mana, hinting that at least she expected their meeting to devolve into a fight.

    Lingering a few paces behind them was their guide, a man close to the leader¡¯s age dressed in a similar outfit to Cloud, the same black ring tattoos on display. He stood with crossed arms, watching them with a cold gaze.

    Alana shivered. She may find Cloud annoying but she had to admit it was quite lucky they had gotten her. It would have been unsettling having a stranger trailing after her and watching her every move.

    ¡°Hello!¡± Alana shouted back. ¡°Mind telling your people to relax. We¡¯re just going to pass through.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute. No need to hurry. This test is something else. I didn¡¯t expect the instructors to drop us in this dusty place with nothing but the clothes on our backs to hunt monsters. And our guide hasn¡¯t been much help.¡± He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at his guide, the young man scoffing at the accusation. ¡°Many hands make light work. What do you say we team up?¡±

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    ¡°I will politely refuse,¡± she replied sternly.

    ¡°Come on. You¡¯re probably nervous but I assure you, I¡¯ve got nothing but the best intentions.¡±

    ¡°Hard to trust someone¡¯s intentions when he hasn¡¯t introduced himself.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I must have misplaced my manners in this wasteland.¡± He put a hand to his chest and bowed shallowly. ¡°Jerome, son of Jackson. I hope you won¡¯t look down on a man who can only take his father¡¯s name, Lady James.¡±

    Alana couldn¡¯t help frowning hearing someone call her ¡®Lady James¡¯. It had been spoken with derision too many times for her to take pride in the title. ¡°Then I don¡¯t have to introduce myself. Mister Jerome, we¡¯re going to continue on our way. We don¡¯t want any trouble. I advise you not to start any.¡±

    She started forward. Jerome stood in place with a smile on his face, shoulders tense. Seeing their unmoving leader, the others stayed put as well. By the time Alana was an arm length away from him, the rest of their gazes were aglow with mana but Jerome maintained his calm.

    ¡°Maybe we can exchange strategy before you go,¡± he says in a calm voice. ¡°I¡¯m sure a learned lady like you has an idea about how to go about killing these beasts.¡±

    ¡°Get out of the way,¡± she bit out. ¡°Or we¡¯re going to move you.¡±

    Jerome¡¯s smile faded. ¡°Demanding the peasants get out of your way. How hard would it be to walk around us? But I suppose you¡¯re too good for that.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to make yourself an obstacle¡­¡± Her hand dropped to the hilt of her sword. ¡°I¡¯m going to walk through you.¡±

    ¡°Think you can? You may be from a noble house but we¡¯re both initiates at the Grand Hall. You¡¯re no better than me!¡± He took a menacing step forward. ¡°And no one¡¯s going to stop me if I want to put you in your place.¡±

    ¡°You can try.¡±

    His eyes lit up with mana. Alana didn¡¯t wait for him to cast. ¡°Arthur!¡± she shouted, as the heel of her opposite hand hit him in the throat. He coughed, a hand going to his neck as he stumbled backward. Alana¡¯s sword left its scabbard with a hiss. Jerome screamed as the blade cut his arm, nearly taking off the limb.

    The members of Jerome¡¯s team screamed and scattered as a ball of fire and several rocks were launched at them. One took a piece of earth to the face and went down hard. Alana sheathed her sword and ran after the one that ran for the hills, leaving the other two for her team.

    She tackled the teenage boy to the ground and grappled with him, eyes burning as dust stung them. She slammed him to the ground, dazing him, and raised a fist.

    ¡°Wait!¡± the boy screamed, holding up his hands. ¡°I-I-I surrender!¡±

    Alana relaxed. ¡°Then¡ª¡±

    His eyes glowed with mana and fire leapt from his hands. She put an arm in front of her face and fell backward. The move wasn¡¯t fast enough to keep the fire from scorching her hand. She let out a bark of pain that was drowned out by the boy¡¯s scream, his quick spell flawed and doing damage to himself.

    Alana scrambled to her feet and mercilessly kicked him in the side, ignoring the way his red hands shook. ¡°When¡­you¡­surrender¡­that¡­means¡­you¡­stop¡­fighting¡­asshole!¡± she growled, delivering a blow with each word. ¡°Honorless bastard!¡±

    ¡°Hey, fearless leader.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she snapped turning around, hissing in pain as her injured hand went for her sword, aggravating the fresh burns. The other members of Jerome¡¯s team were on the ground, either knocked out or groaning in pain.

    Further down the road, their guide watched with an unchanged expression. Thoroughly unimpressed.

    Alana forced herself to take a deep breath. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s¡ª¡±

    She stopped as she spotted a dust cloud coming toward them. ¡°Hold that. Lou¡¯s back.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-61

    I slow down as I approach the road, quickly taking in the situation. Five people on the ground, my team all on their feet. Another guide standing further up the road, unmoving. Geneva further down the road, taking her sweet time approaching now that the festivities are over.

    With no immediate need for action, I move toward Alana. She¡¯s standing over a boy who looks worse for wear, his body curled up in pain and covered in dust. His hands are held out in front of him, shaking. I recognize that reddish-pink tint. Fresh burns. Did she do that to him? Added to the beatdown, that¡¯s a little harsh for my future saint.

    ¡°You okay?¡± I ask.

    ¡°We¡¯re fine.¡±

    I notice her subtly moving her hand behind her back. I grab her by the arm, brows furrowing when she winces. She tries to fight my grip but I force her hand up. Fresh burns.

    ¡°He do that?¡± I ask, cutting my gaze to the sad sack on the ground. After a second glance, I think he¡¯s in good condition. Too good of a condition.

    Should trash like that be breathing?

    My attention is drawn back to my friend when she rips her hand from my grip, rubbing her forearm. ¡°Yes. People tend to get injured in fights.¡±

    ¡°Bell can heal you. I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± she snaps angrily. I recoil from her glare. It¡¯s not the usual playful disapproval. There¡¯s¡­something bitter behind it. ¡°Our opponents are down. They don¡¯t have access to a healer so that¡¯s the end of the qualifiers for this team. Are you going to cripple them on top of that?¡±

    ¡°I¡­fine. If you care about what happens to them, I¡¯ll leave them alone.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she says drily. With her good hand, she reaches down and grabs her beaten opponent by the collar and drags him away, ignoring his whimpers of pain and choking as he gets a face full of dust. She barks orders, Arthur and William helping her to bring the rest of the enemy team together. Her shoulders are tense as she stands over them, sternly explaining their situation.

    ¡°Lou,¡± Geneva says cheerily as she comes to stand beside me. In her arms are five folded blankets.

    ¡°Hey. Does she look off to you?¡± I jerk my chin in Alana¡¯s direction.

    ¡°You know her, my summoner. There¡¯s no need to doubt your own judgment.¡±

    ¡°Knowing something¡¯s wrong is different from knowing what¡¯s wrong,¡± I mutter. Did something happen during the fight? But Alana isn¡¯t one to balk from pain and gore.

    ¡°Would you like me to find the answer?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯ve told you, I won¡¯t ever do that with her.¡±

    ¡°Then I suppose you will have to use the ancient and primitive method of simply asking her.¡± Geneva chuckles. ¡°Preferably while walking. We do have a time limit for this test of yours. I assume your desire for everyone to participate will mean traveling on their own feet? If so, it will take far longer to reach your watering hole.¡±

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    I wince. Woe is the fortune of mortals. ¡°I should have kidnapped Alana and done this alone.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. But for all your power, rewinding time is beyond your abilities. Best to deal with the current situation.¡± She walks over to Alana, tail swinging, and I follow with a shaking head.

    ¡°¡ªcare. You may be young but you are still responsible for your fates. You chose to follow that man, you chose to stand beside him. At any time, you could have walked away and de-escalated the situation. Thank the saints that the consequences of your choices didn¡¯t result in you losing your lives.¡±

    Alana sneers at them, particularly at her own opponent. Only one of them has the courage to meet her gaze, the oldest. He is bare-chested and shaking, his bloody shirt wrapped around his arm. His expression is angry but his eyes are afraid, teeth grit and face pale.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to leave you as you are. I would hope that you all can focus on the objectives of the qualifier rather than irrational grudges.¡±

    The leader, I¡¯m guessing, holds his tongue but if looks could kill, my friend would be nothing but a bloodstain.

    ¡°Team, let¡¯s get a move on.¡± She turns to me. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you came running back after finding water and not because you thought we couldn¡¯t defend ourselves from a group of kids?¡±

    I frown at the hostility in her tone. What did I do? ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s a bit of a walk.¡±

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s get moving.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    A teenage boy lying prone struggles to sit up, wincing with one hand on his side. The older leader tries to stop him but the boy shifts away from his reaching hand, looking up at Alana with sad eyes. ¡°Lady James, I would be much obliged if you allowed me to join your team.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± the leader shouts, but the pain from his wounds keeps him from getting too excited.

    The boy looks at him with disdain. ¡°Shut up! Picking a fight with another team for no reason. Because of you, we¡¯re a sorry mess before even half a day has passed. Griping about others looking down on you. Ever thought it was for a good reason, idiot?!¡±

    ¡°I should¡­have never let you on this team,¡± the leader grouses. The effort must have been great as he immediately lies down, chest heaving with his deep breaths.

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re getting ahead of yourself,¡± Alana says darkly. ¡°The team limit is five.¡±

    ¡°A lone hunter is more easily trampled by worthy prey.¡± Gazes turn to the other team¡¯s guide. He exchanges a nod with Cloud before looking at Alana. ¡°The rules state that there can only be a team of five. If the boy accompanies you, it will not be as a team member. He will not receive any positive evaluations for cooperation. His lack of judgment and quick betrayal are noted. You will not be penalized if you decide to take him along.¡±

    The boy smiles triumphantly. A girl beside him with the makings of a bruise covering half her face looks at Alana with calculation but my friend is the first to speak.

    ¡°Again, you¡¯re getting ahead of yourself. I may not be penalized taking you on but there are no benefits either.¡±

    ¡°I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do nothing,¡± she cut off brutally. ¡°We don¡¯t need you.¡±

    His face is ugly at the rejection. ¡°I guess he was right. You think you¡¯re too good for us.¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± She says decisively. ¡°But it has nothing to do with titles. I¡¯d never be shameless enough to ask someone I assaulted for a favor. I could continue giving you explanations but you¡¯re not worth the time. We¡¯re leaving. Now. Lou.¡±

    I don¡¯t waste time and start walking, gesturing the others to follow. It¡¯s easy to know I¡¯m going in the right direction. My hasty return left a furrow in the ground, creating a clear path. We trudge off in a disorderly group, moving at a snail¡¯s pace compared to my earlier sprint on account of our slower members.

    After a few minutes of walking, I drop back, keeping pace with Alana. She gives me look that clearly says ¡®leave me alone¡¯ before speeding up. A part of me wants to heed the warning. Problem is, wounds left alone tend to fester. And walking in silence would be too boring.

    Like a knight charging a dragon¡¯s den, I speed up and put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°So, you want to tell me what¡¯s wrong?¡±

 ARC 5-Qualifiers-62

    ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong,¡± she says tersely, refusing to look at me.

    ¡°Huh. I¡¯d be inclined to believe you if you weren¡¯t so obviously angry about something.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not angry. My hand hurts.¡±

    ¡°Then let Bell heal it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need healing for this tiny wound.¡±

    This girl. ¡°You want to be in pain.¡± My tone carries my skepticism.

    The burned hand twitches. Did she want to hit me? With it injured the way it is, it would have hurt her a lot more than me so she caught herself. ¡°It¡¯s a good lesson. I let my guard down.¡± Her eyes cut to me for a moment. ¡°I¡¯ve been taking this test lightly because I know I can rely on you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Which you can.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t the point. I let my guard down because I knew Bell was there. I knew Geo was coming. And I knew that a single shout from either of them would bring you running. No part of me imagined us losing or anything bad happening to us.¡±

    I¡¯m still not seeing the problem.

    ¡°But that won¡¯t always be the case. I think there¡¯s a good reason they said we¡¯d be evaluated individually. We¡¯re a team now but teams break up. One day, you¡¯re going to run off and I won¡¯t be able to call you back. I have to rely on my own strength. This¡ª¡± She raises her burned hand. ¡°Is a good reminder.¡±

    ¡­is she serious?

    I stare at her. Feeling the weight of my gaze, she meets my eyes with a flat expression, a look that feels duller than her usual stern demeanor. As the seconds tick by without a smile to tell me she¡¯s joking, I start to believe she means what she¡¯s saying.

    And my hand snaps up to smack the back of her head.

    I try to keep it light but she still stumbles forward. Her head snaps back to me as a hand goes to her hair. That broke her mask, heh. Thought she¡¯d be angrier but that¡¯s pure shock.

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Alana?¡±

    ¡°You hit me!¡±

    ¡°I did. It¡¯s a tried and true cure for idiocy.¡± The anger is starting to creep in, her lips twisting into a scowl. ¡°I know, I know. How dare I, you¡¯re going to run me through with your sword, and every other wonderful idea going through your mind. I won¡¯t stop you but if you say something so stupid again, I¡¯m going to have to knock some sense into you.¡±

    ¡°You¡­you¡­¡± She stomps her foot in frustration. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything wrong!¡±

    Ahead of us, the others slowly come to a stop, but Geneva is quick to hurry them along. Bell comes toward us, lingering a distance away to give us a semblance of privacy.

    ¡°There are many things wrong with what you said but there¡¯s one part that I can¡¯t let stand. Where exactly do you think I¡¯m going?¡±

    She blinks slowly. ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°Tell me if I¡¯m wrong but you would rather be in pain than accept any form of my help because you think I won¡¯t always be here. With you. So, where in the nine hells do you think I¡¯m going?¡± A little anger might have slipped into my tone.

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    ¡°¡­it¡¯s the way things are, Lou. We won¡¯t be initiates forever. Saints, next spring we won¡¯t have the luxury to see each other every day. People¡­grow apart.¡±

    ¡°¡­my hand is getting itchy.¡±

    She takes a step back. ¡°I¡¯ll cut you.¡±

    A squeak stops me from giving her head another slap. I open my hand, revealing the little cutie. I don¡¯t know how I can tell but its eyes tell me how aggrieved it is. ¡°Aw, did I cuddle you too tight?¡±

    It squeaks again, kicking its feet in another attempt at escape.

    ¡°Lou, what in the abyss is that?¡±

    ¡°In a minute.¡± Bell scampers up to me and I pass my little friend to her. ¡°Don¡¯t eat it.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± [It would hardly count as a snack, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Were you holding that this whole time?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get to that.¡± Squaring my shoulders, I stomp over to her. She takes another step back but realizes that there¡¯s no running and straightens her spine. She holds my gaze as I move into her personal space. ¡°I¡¯ve just got to clear up a little misunderstanding.¡±

    In the span of a heartbeat, I pull her against me and bring other lips together.

    ¡°Mmph!¡±

    She tries to pull back but she can¡¯t overpower my hold when I don¡¯t want her too. A fist beats my stomach with as much force as a feather, growing weaker by the moment. Then it twists the collar of my shirt, going to still.

    Her lips, initially tense with surprise, slowly soften as she relaxes. It¡¯s my turn to be surprised when they hesitantly move, returning the kiss clumsily. I don¡¯t mind at all, smiling as I loop my other arm around her waist.

    After several minutes, I pull away. Alana looks at me with a dazed expression, her eyes slightly wet. A far cry from her usual stoic demeanor. ¡°Asshole,¡± she says softly.

    ¡°Mm.¡± Sorry. The only woman I¡¯ve truly courted is my wife. She¡¯s taught me to tackle problems with excessive force and extreme prejudice. ¡°Maybe I haven¡¯t made myself clear. Alana, I love you.¡±

    ¡°Lou¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you think that means, but to me, it means I¡¯ll never leave you.¡± Even if you want me to, but best not to say that now.

    ¡°I¡­know you do. But that¡¯s right now. You can¡¯t say how you¡¯ll feel in the future.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and you can?¡± I say sarcastically. I realize my mistake immediately and stop her from pulling away. ¡°That was a bit harsh but I mean it. I tell you I won¡¯t leave and you tell me I¡¯m wrong. Do you think I don¡¯t know my own feelings? Do you need another demonstration?¡±

    She puts her hand over my mouth, face flushed red as a tomato while scowling. ¡°I know you want to bed me, Lou!¡±

    ¡°Oh. Oh hoh. I get it.¡± She stumbles as I suddenly let her go. ¡°You think this is just about sex.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Her words trail off. Guess I¡¯m right.

    I want to be angry, I really do, but what has she seen? I¡¯m a married woman still salivating after other women, including her. She hasn¡¯t seen my devotion. She can¡¯t peer into my heart to know how I feel and the evidence she can see gives her cause to doubt.

    Not to mention her past. She¡¯s the bastard of a nobleman who was disregarded until they learned of her light affinity. I¡¯m sure they flattered her to death to gain her allegiance. She has to be accustomed to doubting people claiming to love her.

    Doesn¡¯t mean it doesn¡¯t hurt.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± I hold up a hand to keep her from approaching. I meet her eyes. ¡°I know we have something.¡±

    ¡°We¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah ah.¡± I cut her off. ¡°Don¡¯t say anything you don¡¯t mean or might regret. One day, you¡¯re going to understand how serious I am.¡± Oh, is she going to. ¡°That¡¯s when I want you to give me your answer.¡±

    Alana stares at me for a long moment before sighing. ¡°You¡¯re impossible,¡± she grumbles.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    She smiles reflexively, quickly suppressing it. ¡°Not a compliment.¡±

    ¡°I think so. Now, are you going to stop being stupid and let Bell heal you or am I going to have to kiss you again?¡±

    ¡°Completely impossible!¡±

    ¡°Think I won¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know you will.¡± She sighs deeply and holds out her hand. Bell doesn¡¯t waste any time scampering over. She leaps up, grabbing Alana by the arm. A moment later, she drops to the ground and the burns on my friend¡¯s hand are gone. ¡°¡­thanks.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I look forward. The rest of our team has put a bit of distance between us. ¡°We better catch up.¡±

    She nods and walks off at a brisk pace.

    The two of us are going to have a conversation soon. A serious one. Not that words have proved effective communicating my intentions. She needs to believe me when I say that I see us being together forever. That she¡¯s a wife, not another lustful noble¡¯s mistress.

    I met Kierra in trying circumstances. Combined with our wedding, I proved my devotion to her again and again. It doesn¡¯t seem like a convenient opportunity will show itself in regard to my future saint. I need a gesture. Something big that will obliterate any doubts she may have.

    I¡¯m up to the challenge. I just hope she can bear the consequences because there are very few lines I won¡¯t cross for love.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-63

    A silence stretches between us as we catch up to the others. If left to Alana, it might drag on for the rest of the qualifier. She seems uncomfortable around me now, though she can¡¯t keep her eyes away, sneaking little glances over her shoulder as she keeps pace with Marthe.

    I let her be. Things between us got a little¡­tense earlier. I¡¯m still processing how I feel and what she said, turning her words over and over. Luckily, I have a distraction in the form of my little friend.

    The cutie has tired itself out, lying on its side with tightly shut eyes. At first glance, I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s dead, but I can hear its tiny heart pumping if I focus. What am I going to do with this thing? I picked it up on a whim but I can¡¯t keep it forever. I don¡¯t even know what it is.

    Why am I thinking about this? I could close my fist and end this thing¡¯s life with no consequence. Or drop it and let it get on with existing. Yet I¡¯ve been carrying it for over an hour.

    ¡­maybe it¡¯s the fur. That burnished yellow. Reminds me of the sun. Reminds me of Alana.

    I scoff. A cute pet isn¡¯t going to bring us together.

    ¡­will it?

    I stare at the little creature. Maybe feeling my gaze, it opens its eyes and lets out a pathetic squeak. ¡°You¡¯re a sorry bastard, aren¡¯t you?¡± I whisper to it. ¡°I guess it¡¯s the same. I¡¯ll give you a gesture and let you decide. Bell.¡±

    In a moment, the little imp scampers over to my side.

    ¡°Can you get inside this thing¡¯s mind? Communicate that I want to take it home and take care of it. Otherwise, I¡¯m leaving it to do what it wants.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [A simple thing.] A pause. [It¡¯s done.]

    ¡°Alright.¡± I bend down and place the little thing on the ground. It shivers, big eyes blinking rapidly. ¡°Make your choice.¡±

    For a long moment, the cutie looks off into the distance. My shoulders come down as it takes a few hops away. I guess that¡¯s it. What isn¡¯t meant to be won¡¯t¡ª

    A squeak interrupts my thoughts. I look down to see the little cutie perched on the end of my boot, looking up at me. It¡¯s still trembling but it lets out another loud squeak, as loud as its little body can manage.

    ¡°Heh.¡± I carefully scoop it up, cradling it gently. ¡°Knew I¡¯m a catch. You¡¯ve got good eyes.¡±

    It squeaks softly, settling onto my palm.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Fortunately, the creature is a social animal. It currently sees you as the alpha female and is awaiting transport to your den.]

    Ah, did you explain we aren¡¯t going to live underground?

    [Vaguely. It is unable to understand what a house is. It will be fine as long as it remains close to you, its instincts telling it to follow the strong. However, should you leave the thing alone for any length of time, it is liable to die of fright.]

    ¡°Great. Just make sure you don¡¯t wander off, hm?¡± I gently pet it with my thumb. It leans into the touch rather than stiffening up. ¡°You¡¯re going to need a name. And I¡¯m going to have to find out what you are.¡±

    I jog over to Cloud who is following the others at a distance. ¡°I need some help.¡±

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    ¡°For you, I am always willing, honored sister.¡± I hold up my new friend for her inspection. She takes a hasty step backward. What? What happened? ¡°You are very brave carrying that thing in your palm.¡±

    Don¡¯t tell me she¡¯s afraid of the little fluff ball. ¡°I don¡¯t know about brave. It¡¯s harmless.¡±

    ¡°A single one, yes. Flocketts operate as a horde. As many ants may hollow a tree, they attack their prey in droves. Unlike most predators, their teeth are flat but they have a deceptive strength in their jaws that allows them to gnaw through the toughest hides. Also bone. They leave nothing behind of their victims, very efficient eaters.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so you eat meat.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Cloud is quick to correct. ¡°They eat everything. Animals. Plants. Men.¡±

    ¡°Just like people then.¡±

    She laughs. ¡°Truth.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°You¡¯re just trying to scare me but it¡¯s not going to work. Who could be afraid of this fluff ball?¡± I present my companion to her, urging her with my eyes. Her smile turns into a smirk and she obligingly reaches out a finger to pet it. The little cutie trembles but accepts the strokes.

    ¡°Perhaps I exaggerated their menace.¡± She removed her hand. ¡°They have little fighting power. Their true threat lies in the fact that they will decimate an environment. Prey migrate from a lack of food, their predators who aren¡¯t quick enough to follow turn feral. The flocketts are nuisances.¡±

    Good. It wouldn¡¯t be a problem if they were savages that attacked anything that smelled like a good meal but it might complicate a few conversations if it tried to gnaw faces off on a continuous basis.

    ¡°Though you may have a problem with that specific one. I would assume you found her alone, near a source of water?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and how do you know she¡¯s a girl?¡± She, if she¡¯s a she, is covered in so much fluff it¡¯s impossible to see anything under there. Maybe that¡¯s how she knows?

    ¡°Similar to the mamaroon, when their den gets too large, they divide. Though the way they do so is unique. You are holding a rare progenitor, a female that is capable of reproducing without a mate.¡±

    Eh?

    ¡°She and the other progenitors would have feasted on the weaker members of the horde before leaving to establish their own dens. I would imagine she is already with litter so you can expect kits in five to eight weeks.¡±

    Eh?

    ¡°Progenitors tend to have larger litters than average, up to eight kits at a time. They are fertile for all of their life, which can be up to ten years.¡± She chuckles at my dazed expression. ¡°Your house will have many blessings in the future, honored sister.¡±

    I raise my little friend to my eyes, staring at the golden ball of fur suspiciously. It, or rather she? Is it a she if it can get pregnant on its own? Her own? There has to be a word for this. Oh, forget it.

    She¡¯s going to be a mother soon. Damn. Eight little fluffs each year over ten years. That¡¯s an extra eighty mouths to feed. Not to mention the kids, or kits, are going to grow up and make more of themselves the old-fashioned way. What have I gotten myself into?

    ¡°Should have never picked you up,¡± I grumble. She squeaks. How can something so small and cute cause so much trouble? ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want to share in those blessings?¡±

    Cloud shakes her head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare. I wish all the fortune in the world to my honored sister.¡±

    ¡°Of course you do. Ah, I¡¯ve got something else.¡± I reach into my pocket and grab the scorpion. It snaps its pincers but doesn¡¯t move to stab me anymore. Must have gotten tired. ¡°This work as bait?¡±

    Cloud takes another step away, this one larger than the other. ¡°I teased you about your new pet but I am serious when I say that the creature in your hand is dangerous. Do not let it sting you.¡±

    ¡°No problem. Can¡¯t get through my skin anyway Would the mamaroons eat this?¡±

    ¡°Eat? Yes. Engage? Never. If you are seeking to lure them from their dens with the scorpion, you will surely fail.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Then it¡¯s useless.¡± I crush the bug, the poor thing¡¯s life snuffed out in a second with a soft crunch. Before I toss it to the ground, I hear a squeak. The little cutie is squirming, pink nose twitching in the scorpion¡¯s direction. ¡°You want it? Sure, sure.¡±

    I put my hands together. The cutie edges closer, squeaking softly as it sniffs the twitching scorpion. Then, with the swiftness of a striking viper, it takes a bite off the bug¡¯s leg, mashing it with relish. Don¡¯t know how I know but I can feel her enjoying the meal and she eats with gusto.

    ¡°Eat up, little thing. Apparently, you¡¯ve got eight mouths to feed.¡± I sigh at the reminder. I hope Kierra likes pets.

    [My summoner, you may want to come here.]

    Ah, we¡¯ve fallen behind. The rest of my team is standing atop a hill, staring into the distance. I increase my pace, careful not to jostle my little friend as she enjoys her lunch. I stand next to Alana. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got company.¡±

    She points at the sky, drawing my attention to a rapidly approaching shadow.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-64

    A ¡®film¡¯ comes down over my eyes and the vague shadow resolves into the largest bird I¡¯ve ever seen. A very strange bird. The thing has an extra pair of feet, two smaller talons on its upper chest. Its brown feathers have a metallic sheen to them, like polished bronze, except for the white feathers along its face. Its dark, beady eyes are trained on our group, filled with malice.

    ¡°Cloud!¡± I shout, blinking away my ¡®film¡¯. ¡°You know anything about a bronze bird the size of a small bear?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to tell us anything?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Great.¡± I turn to Alana. ¡°I got a good look at the thing and I¡¯d wager hostile.¡±

    It¡¯s a credit to her belief in me that she doesn¡¯t stop to question how I got said look or if I¡¯m sure. She moves to Arthur¡¯s side. ¡°How good are you at hitting moving targets?¡±

    ¡°Raahhh! Don¡¯t underestimate me woman. I¡¯ve been spearing fish since I was a shrimp.¡± He frowns in contemplation. ¡°But the sky is not the ocean. I don¡¯t know how that creature moves.¡±

    She claps his shoulder. I want to give the bastard praises myself. To think he would readily acknowledge a weakness. I suppose he knows this isn¡¯t the time for showing off. ¡°We¡¯ve got a possible monster fight,¡± she shouts. ¡°William, Marthe, stay close to Arthur. Stay alert. We need to see what this thing can do.¡±

    The team is tense as they follow her order. We wait with baited breaths as the bird comes closer. A shadow sweeps over us as it passes beneath the sun, flying past us and circling back. Then it dives, incredibly fast.

    ¡°Move!¡± Alana barks, pulling her sword from its sheath. William, Arthur, and Marthe runs as the bird drops toward them. Once it¡¯s close the ground, it wraps its wings around itself, turning into a large ball. It hits the ground with a heavy thump and rolls forward. The wings unfurl and the bird leaps toward the closest target.

    William screams but its snapping beak is knocked aside by a pillar of earth rising from the ground. The next second, Alana is bringing her sword down on its neck but her blade is deflected with a loud clang.

    The bird screeches, knocking her aside with a wing. A gust of wind kicks up a cloud of dust as it lifts into the air, shooting straight up before circling us.

    Alana moves toward me, eyes on the sky. ¡°Are you going to help?¡±

    ¡°Have to give my team a chance to shine.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking wind affinity, metallic feathers?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say so. Can you handle it?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± She moves away from me as the bird dives again. It dives for the three again, forming a ball as it hits the ground. It unfurls, once again going for poor William. Another pillar rises but the bird is smart enough to learn from its mistakes. It grasps the pillar with its smaller talons, climbing atop it. It¡¯s ready to pounce but a beam of bright light shines on its face.

    The bird screeches in pain, falling backward.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Pin it!¡± Alana yells as another gust of wind throws up a cloud dust.

    ¡°Ask for the fucking moon!¡± Arthur growls. His eyes glow with channeled mana and the dust dissipates. Earthen spikes come up from the ground but fail to pierce the feathers, simply tossing the bird around.

    ¡°That¡¯s not going to work,¡± Alana shouts as she runs toward the thrashing monster. She leaps onto its belly, ducking a wing meant to knock her off as she runs for its head. Her sword shines with a brilliant light as she brings it down but she¡¯s blown back before she can make contact. She hits the ground hard, but rolls to her feet, a hand going to her shoulder.

    ¡°Fucking monsters and their stupid pure affinities,¡± she mutters under her breath as the bird finds its feet and once again launches itself into the sky.

    This is a terrible opponent for them. William and Marthe are useless since Arthur can¡¯t pin the creature down. Its wings counter Alana who is weak in ranged combat. She might be able to cut through its defense if she could get close but it also has a wind affinity. A quick use of magic and she¡¯s back where she started.

    That thing is going to keep swooping down on them until they either make a mistake or it decides they¡¯re not worth the trouble.

    Hm. This will be a much more even fight if I clip that bird¡¯s wings. They should be able to handle it from there. It¡¯s not flying too high either. ¡°Bell. Geo.¡±

    My precious imp scampers over to me along with Geneva, tail swinging. ¡°We need to bring down that bird,¡± I say to them. ¡°I¡¯d do it myself but I¡¯m a little preoccupied.¡± I raise my little cutie that¡¯s still snacking on the smashed scorpion. I¡¯m amazed she can still eat. The thing is her size but she¡¯s not showing any signs of slowing down.

    Geneva hums. [In this disguise, I am a circle four thrall with a physical, mental, and undeveloped fire affinity. That leaves me only brutish methods.] ¡°Here, Bell.¡±

    She opens her arms and Bell jumps into them. Geneva grabs her by the neck tightly. She pulls her arm back, going still with her eyes trained on the circling bird. Then she launches my imp like a stone.

    ¡°Lou,¡± Alana yells as Bell soars through the sky. ¡°The hell is that?¡±

    ¡°Wait for it!¡± I shout back.

    In the sky, a small shadow meets a big one. The bird screeches, flapping its wings frantically. One of its wings bends to an unnatural degree and it descends with all the grace of a pig.

    ¡°That¡¯s your cue,¡± I shout.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me,¡± she shouts, already running toward the injured monster. ¡°Arthur, I¡¯ll draw its attention. Bash its head.¡± Mm. If you can¡¯t pierce it, crush it to death.

    ¡°Damn woman,¡± Arthur growls to himself. ¡°Oi! You two get behind our so-called leader. This thing wants a bite out of Will¡¯s ass and I can¡¯t attack and defend at the same time.¡±

    William hesitates but Marthe is quick to drag him toward me as the earth around Arthur begins to rise, forming a growing ball.

    Alana duels with the bird but she isn¡¯t getting far. She is a fighter that prioritizes speed, relying on a sharp blade to get the job done. She effortlessly weaves around the talons trying to shred her but she can¡¯t get close. Her efforts are keeping the bird contained.

    ¡°Hey, Arty! Might want to wait for it to blow her away before trying your luck!¡± From what I¡¯ve seen, the bird can¡¯t use its gust attack consecutively. His best chance of getting a hit is right after it¡¯s forced to push Alana away.

    ¡°I¡¯m not blind, rahhhh!!!¡±

    Alana gives up trying to get close. Her shining blade cuts into the large wings, spreading the smell of cooked meat. The bird¡¯s screeches are a mix of anger and pain. It throws its body forward after she dodges a slap of its wings, snapping its beak.

    I¡¯m tense, ready to save her, but she doesn¡¯t need it. She jumps up, landing on its head and mercilessly stomping on its eye. A gust of wind is meant to knock her away but she only stumbles, having already moved backward. She stabs her sword through its beak and into the ground, muffling its shrieks. ¡°Arthur!¡± she shrieks, as she¡¯s blown off its body. Guess it can use it twice.

    Not three times though.

    The bird struggles frantically as a large boulder appears over it. Those struggles come to an abrupt halt as the rock falls with crushing force.

    As blood begins to pool beneath its head, Bell leaps off its back. My little saint is considerate enough to pull Alana¡¯s sword free before scampering over to me. Its owner is slower to follow, along with Arthur. His lips are pressed in a thin line and his face is pale. ¡°Mana strain?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Moved a little fast,¡± he grunts. ¡°Still got half my mana. Just give me a few breaths before you ask me to crack another skull.¡±

    ¡°Alana?¡±

    She grabs her sword with a grunt.

    ¡°I guess we can count this as a success.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-65

    We all take a break. Geneva heals Alana¡¯s scrapes and bruises. Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have to persuade her to accept this time. Arthur magics up a couple of bowls and William fills them with water. I thought about cooking up the bird but we need to keep moving. So, the bronze terror gets dragged behind us as we keep heading for the waterhole.

    It doesn¡¯t take long before we spot it. Alana calls us to a halt. ¡°Alright. We need to find a place to set up camp. I¡¯m thinking we can carve a space out of one of the hills nearby. Lou.¡± She taps her ear.

    ¡°I¡¯m not hearing anything to be concerned about but there¡¯s a lot of noise at the watering hole. There¡¯s sure to be something around here.¡±

    ¡°Counting on it. We¡¯ll start with the closest one.¡±

    We skirt the watering hole, keeping as much distance as we can as we move for the closest hill. There¡¯s a moment of panic as a shadow passes over us but whatever it is ignores us. The hill is rather small, about the size of a commoner¡¯s house, with a sparse number of shrubs decorating its top.

    Alana circles it before shouting, ¡°Looks good. Arthur, can you hollow it out? Opposite the watering hole.¡±

    ¡°You want me to be useless for the rest of the day?¡±

    ¡°Better you than all of us.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute. I¡¯ve got this. Here.¡± I wave her over and hand her my little friend, the fluff ball taking a nap after her meal. ¡°Hold her for me. Be careful, she¡¯s pregnant.¡±

    I clap her on the back as she freezes. Geneva, Bell, help me out.

    ¡°You guys take a break,¡± I say as I take off my shirt. A low barking sound makes me look over my shoulder. Cloud grins at me toothily. I¡¯ve heard men whistle when an attractive woman passes. Is that how the Temple does it? The look in her eyes is certainly flattering. I toss my shirt to her. The crazy woman lifts it to her face and breathes in audibly.

    The action draws a few looks, including a nasty one from Alana, but my wife¡¯s done far worse. I don¡¯t even blink, turning my attention back to the hill. I dig my hand into the earth, hard nails having no problems pushing through the sediment as I move dirt by the fistful. My succubi join in and dirt flies as we hollow out the hill.

    Arthur helps at the end and by time we finish, we¡¯ve got a space five meters by five meters with enough height for everyone to stand comfortably.

    ¡°We split up again,¡± Alana declares.

    ¡°I agree,¡± I add, taking a rare moment to give some orders. ¡°Usual groups. William, you take Marthe and Arthur and search near the water hole. You¡¯ve got the advantage there so let the seadog take a break. The monsters are less aggressive as well so don¡¯t start something you can¡¯t finish.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Alana, you¡¯ve got north-northeast. Take Cloud and Bell. I¡¯ll take south-southwest. Geo will stay here to look after camp and start dinner.¡± I gesture to the bird. ¡°William, if you guys find anything, come back to camp. Geo can contact us. Same for Bell, Alana. Otherwise, meet back here at sundown. Don¡¯t like the idea of us wandering about this place at night.¡±

    My speech doesn¡¯t garner a round of applause but they nod and mumble their agreement. ¡°Great. Alana, you can leave the little cutie here.¡± You better take care of her. And be gentle, she¡¯s expecting.

    [Your new fascination will not come to any harm, my summoner.]

    ¡°Alright. Then I¡¯ll be going first.¡±

    ¡°Be careful,¡± Alana offers.

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    I jog away from the camp, waiting until I¡¯m far from the hill before I pick up speed. I skirt the watering hole and put my nose to work. The mamaroons are attracted by carrion for the other creatures drawn to the dead. A corpse is a good of a place to start searching for them.

    I¡¯m not an especially good tracker but I know how a dead thing smells from my time with Kierra. It¡¯s a very distinctive scent. As in, distinctively horrible.

    The first thing I find is a dead bird, one of a more appropriate size. It¡¯s already half a skeleton, the other half more feathers than flesh. The only other creatures about are the maggots feasting on it.

    I restart my search, moving slowly and letting my eyes work alongside my nose. I find another bird and a handful of snakes. Nothing bigger. No sign of my targets.

    I¡¯m searching the base of a large hill when I catch a hint of blood on the air. A scream follows, capturing my full attention with its human origin. Someone¡¯s in trouble.

    The question is, do I save them?

    I¡¯m not a hero. Those are all about self-sacrifice. If I¡¯m going to rush over there, I need a good reason. Hm. What¡¯s the chances these people have any clues on the mamaroons? What is the likelihood that they will surrender said clues? I¡¯d be their savior but people can be amazingly ungrateful.

    Alana would do it. She¡¯d run to their rescue without thinking.

    Would saving them make me look good for her?

    That settles it.

    I change direction and head for the screams. An angry bellow follows, deep and loud enough that I feel it in my chest. Whatever made that sound is big. I have a bad feeling as I speed up, wondering what kind of trouble I¡¯m signing myself up for.

    The sound of combat becomes more distinct. I crest a large hill and finally get eyes on the situation.

    In the distance, a team is fighting a gigantic lizard like the one I saw at the watering hole. This one is a bit smaller, with a mixture of blue and green scales. It¡¯s a lot angrier than the one I saw too, stomping the ground as it chases after the four figures throwing spells at it.

    I spot another figure standing away from the fight. At first, I think it¡¯s the fifth member of their team but a quick ¡®film¡¯ later, I see that it¡¯s their guide, a stone-faced woman watching their struggle without a hint of sympathy. Maybe even a trace of disgust. I continue searching for their missing teammate.

    My nose helps. I sniff the air and look in the direction the smell of blood is coming from, which is down. Near the base of the hill I¡¯m standing on, there¡¯s a large blood pool. There¡¯s also something in the vague shape of a person but it¡¯s too flat. The traces of cloth I can see is what gives it away.

    Saints. The first victim of the qualifiers. Or the first I¡¯ve seen. I¡¯m sure there will be more to come.

    But not these four.

    I take a few steps backward. Then I take a running leap in toward them.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-66

    No one ever expects death from above.

    I don¡¯t know who¡¯s more surprised, the monster whose head I landed on or the initiates I saved. You¡¯d think the monster but the weight of my enhanced form and momentum of the jump drove its head to the ground. I imagine it¡¯s a little dazed.

    The initiates on the other hand are looking at my magnificent entrance with dropped jaws and wide eyes. They look worse for wear, bloodied and bruised. An unfortunate girl had the front of her robe torn, exposing her modest chest. Seeing where my gaze is, she lets out a shrill scream and wraps her arms around herself, crouching for good measure.

    You would choose to preserve your dignity rather than fight the monster in front of you? Saints, no wonder one of your teammates is nothing more than bloody paste.

    ¡°Hey, idiots,¡± I call as I leap off the lizard¡¯s head.

    They jump at the sound of my voice. Did you all think I wasn¡¯t real? A mirage wouldn¡¯t speak, heh. ¡°The monster is still dazed.¡± I point over my shoulder as I walk toward them. ¡°Now would be a good time to kill it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve¡­tried.¡± A young man coughs as he steps forward, holding his side. ¡°None of our spells are strong enogh to hurt it.¡±

    ¡°¡­then why aren¡¯t you running?¡± I ask, giving them a look that should communicate how stupid I think they are.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­fast.¡±

    ¡°How fast can it be? How¡¯d you even manage to piss the thing off?¡± The lizard bellows as it gets to its feet, stomping a foot in challenge. I sigh. ¡°Hold that thought. And get out the way.¡±

    I wait patiently for it to work up the nerve to charge. Doesn¡¯t take long, each heavy step making the earth tremble. It lowers its head, ready to spear me with the large horn at the end of its nose.

    I casually raise my hands and set my feet, staring it down. Someone behind me shouts but I ignore them. I catch the horn just beneath the point, grimacing at the impact. My feet make a furrow in the earth as the monster pushes me back.

    But I stop it.

    We stand there, me holding its horn, the monster glaring at me, for several long moments.

    Then it snorts and takes a step back. It shakes its head a few times before turning around and slowly walking off.

    Retreating in the face of a stronger opponent. It¡¯s smarter than the idiots behind me. The Hall should do away with them and put that thing in acolyte robes.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    The young man walks over to me. He puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles. It¡¯s bloody and missing a few teeth. ¡°We were in¡­big trouble. We owe you our lives.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Sit down first.¡± I help him to the ground, the rest of his team gathering around us and following suit.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t even want to fight it,¡± he wheezes. ¡°Darn thing got hit by a stray spell while we were fighting off these weird dogs. We had no idea why they suddenly ran off. I thought we¡¯d gotten lucky.¡± He looks in the direction of his dead teammate but quickly looks away.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s gone now. You should find a place to hunker down for the night. You¡¯re in no condition for another fight.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. You¡¯re right.¡±

    ¡°By any chance, you wouldn¡¯t happen to have found any of our targets before your unfortunate encounter?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. The dogs we were talking about were eating some of them.¡±

    I smile. Who says good deeds go unrewarded?

    ¡°Though we got turned around fighting that thing. I don¡¯t know where we saw them. Maybe that way.¡± He tosses his head in a vague direction.

    ¡­saints damn it.

    Ah, well. It¡¯s not a total loss. At least I know they¡¯re in the area.

    ¡°Thanks for the information.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± He grabs my wrist. I look at the tense fingers and pale knuckles with a scowl. This fool is holding onto me like I¡¯m his lifeline. He eventually notices my expression and pulls his hand back with a nervous clearing of his throat that turns into a coughing fit. ¡°Sorry. I was hoping you could¡­ help us?¡±

    My expression turns nasty. Instead of dissuading him like I thought it would, the bastard gets bolder, words spilling out of him like a leaking beer drum. ¡°All of us are exhausted and injured. I wouldn¡¯t like our chances against anything that comes after us. We definitely can¡¯t risk searching for shelter like this. I was hoping you¡¯d¡­¡± he swallows. ¡°After a night of rest, we could combine our teams and search for the mamaroons. We¡¯d have lost some time but with the extra numbers¡ª¡±

    I hold up a hand. ¡°Stop. The answer is no.¡±

    He stiffens but I can tell he¡¯s trying to stop his limbs from shaking. ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop trying to convince me because you¡¯re not going to. You know first-hand how difficult this test is. Why would I drag along deadweight? I already saved you and you gave me some dubious information.¡± Not at all an equal exchange. ¡°I¡¯m generous enough to call us even. Best of luck, I¡¯ve got to get going.¡±

    ¡°But we need help!¡± the girl shouts. Still covering herself up. You need lessons on how to persuade people. I might pause to listen to you if I had something nice to look at.

    ¡°A lot of people need a lot of things.¡±

    ¡°We could die out here,¡± she continues.

    ¡°That¡¯s my problem why?¡±

    She blinks in confusion, as if utterly astounded I could ask such a question. ¡°What do you mean? You saved us! Why would you do that if you don¡¯t care?¡±

    ¡°I cared then. Now I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s¡­terrible!¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t a compliment!¡±

    ¡°Enough with the jester routine. Look, maybe if you ask nicely, your guide will get you out of here? Right?¡± I look over at the woman. She inclines her head but doesn¡¯t look at the others. Mm, definitely not impressed with their display.

    ¡°If we leave¡ª¡± The man¡¯s words are interrupted by another coughing fit. ¡°¡ªwe¡¯ll forfeit our chance at the qualifiers and most likely fail.¡± The others nod.

    ¡°You deserve to fail, idiot,¡± I say without mercy. ¡°In what world is this test more important than your lives? You can earn more gold and retake your initiate year. There¡¯s no second chance at life once you¡¯re dead. Fucking saints, if you can¡¯t realize something that simple, you¡¯ve got no business at the Hall.¡± I scoff. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you do, I¡¯m done.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to impress the instructors?¡± he yells at my back. ¡°Who would want to teach someone that would let fellow casters die without a hint of remorse? There¡¯s a guide right here. Don¡¯t think they won¡¯t know!¡±

    Now you¡¯re threatening me to do more for you? People really can be ungrateful bastards. ¡°I¡¯m sure there are plenty of people who¡¯d want the woman who could single-handedly take down the monster that literally and figuratively stomped five of her peers,¡± I yell back without turning around. ¡°They¡¯d certainly pick me over you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll remember this!¡±

    ¡°If you survive!¡±

    I laugh as I hear him cursing under his breath, heading in the direction he pointed out. Hopefully, fate will reward my good deeds with a lead.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-67

    I circle the area, looking for traces of monsters. The spotted doglike creatures have moved on but I can see their tracks and the remains of their meal. I pick up the bloody corpse of a mamaroon by the tail.

    It has a long, sinuous body. Incredibly flexible. I have no problem rolling the thing into a ball. Does it even have bones?

    I thought so when I saw the drawing of it but it really does look like a weasel. I wonder if that¡¯s what it evolved from.

    One of the many things I learned from my initiate classes is that it¡¯s no coincidence manabeasts are similar to normal animals. One originates from the other. There is a theory that, the same as people, every animal is born with at least one affinity and the ability to use magic. The problem is that they lack the intelligence to build spells. Hence, the mana in their bodies goes unused and uncultivated.

    The turning point for an animal¡¯s species is when a member is born with a pure affinity. Mana does a person good. The more mana in the body, the stronger you are. It¡¯s how knights can achieve superhuman feats like fighting draconids. Why swordsmanship and martial arts aren¡¯t obsolete in the face of casters who can topple mountains, summon tidal waves that swallow ships, and bring down the burning wrath of the sun.

    When an animal is born with a pure affinity, not only does it have access to mana, but it becomes stronger, faster, and smarter than its peers, though not necessarily intelligent. More likely to learn from its mistakes and deploy better strategies for survival according to leading researchers.

    Nature says that the strong find the strong. Said beast will have access to the strongest mates. Bloodline is important. That is why nobles are so intent on matching with other noble families or, if push comes to shove, commoners of exceptional talent. Those with rare affinities are more likely to give birth to talented children.

    After several generations, a common weasel that is nothing more than a pest to farmers can become the monster I¡¯m holding right now.

    Truly impressive.

    But, for all its effort, to me, it is still a pest.

    I hold it closer and sniff, cataloging every scent. The heavy smell of blood that leaves a metallic taste on my tongue from a whiff. The bitter aroma of the shrubs dotted about that the creature must have moved through. The smell of the predators that brought an early end to its life. The smell of the dusty ground. And the smell unique to the creature.

    I¡¯ve got you. Now that I know what I¡¯m looking for, I can find the little pests wherever they are. The question is, being completely sure I can find a den in relatively short order, should I gather my team? It might be better to call them back before they travel too far. I¡¯ll need them once I find a den. I haven¡¯t practiced my earth affinity much, certainly not enough to pull natural burrowers out of their dens.

    Ah, no. That¡¯s not right. Narrow tunnels aren¡¯t enough to stop me. There¡¯s a limit to how much I can compress my body, a limit that grows the more I eat, but I can fit the shape of the mamaroons.

    Better yet.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Focusing my senses, I make sure there is no one around and no prying eyes. Satisfied, my arm turns into ooze. Then it expands, covering the mamaroon. A moment later, my body digests it and a new form is available to me.

    Heh. Looks look I get to play pretend again. I¡¯m feeling a bit nostalgic.

    I gather the other corpses, holding them by their fluffy tails. Then I circle the area, trying to find which direction they came from. It¡¯s the first time I¡¯m grateful to be stuck in this wasteland. In a city, there are dozens of scents on one corner. Perfumes, foods, people, animals. It¡¯s enough to make my head spin. Tracking anything is a nightmare. Possible, but a pain in the nostrils.

    Here? It¡¯s so much easier it feels like a joke. I follow the trail of the doglike monsters, following their musk and blood drops on the ground from the mamaroons. Together, they lead me to a moderately sized hill with a clump of vegetation on the top and smaller shrubs along its sides.

    I don¡¯t approach, not wanting to spook them. Instead, I flip down my magnification ¡®film¡¯ and circle the hill, looking for signs of my prey.

    ¡­nothing. No tracks, no openings in the ground. No little bodies darting through the shadows or noses poking from between the shrubs. Absolutely no evidence there are monsters in the area but my nose is screaming that they¡¯re here. The scent is too strong.

    I huff and find a good rock to perch on. If they aren¡¯t here now, they¡¯ll be here. At least one to point me to the others. The sun is still high in the sky. I can wait for a while.

    And that patience pays off.

    My eyelids are drooping when I pick up a sound similar to shifting sand. I look up, ¡®film¡¯ coming down. Near the base of the hill, I see the earth moving. Tiny claws break through the surface, creating a small opening. Then the earth surrounding the opening falls away, the gap widening and the edges smoothing out.

    Lo and behold, a weasel-like monster scampers out. Followed by another. And another.

    ¡°Look at that.¡± Den discovered. Geneva, can you hear me?

    [Of course, my summoner.]

    How¡¯s the rest of my team doing?

    [William¡¯s group is currently catching their breath. The group spotted mamaroons near the watering hole. Arthur got enthusiastic and attacked them, violating the peace of the area. The other monsters took offense and drove them away. They managed to defend themselves with minimal injuries and plan to return to camp.]

    Alana?

    [Alana and Cloud have found a den.]

    Really?! Saints, I can¡¯t believe she found it before me.

    [She had the sense to utilize Bell to track them. The den was a small one. Cloud has progressed far enough on her path to emulate a monster that when the creatures caught her scent, they recognized a threat. They scattered. Alana is currently running after the ones she can see.]

    Haha. Alana must have been pissed. Did she try to kill her?

    [Your sun was quite furious. She had asked Cloud to come close to ask her questions. She never told her to move away. Cloud reasoned telling her that her scent would startle the creatures would count as assisting. She stated that not asking her to step back was Alana¡¯s misjudgment and she should bear the consequences.]

    How¡¯d she take that?

    [She pulled her sword.]

    As expected.

    [No need to be concerned. They never came to blows. Cloud simply reminded her of the test and Alana refocused on the mamaroons. She is currently simmering in anger. Cloud takes a bit too much pleasure in pushing her boundaries.]

    Don¡¯t I know it. I know they get along underneath it all though and don¡¯t you dare confirm that.

    [As you wish.]

    If anyone checks in with you about me, I¡¯m on the trail of a den. Not to be disturbed.

    [You plan to take on the den by yourself.]

    Yeah. Better not to have any witnesses. I should be wrapping things up here swiftly.

    [Would you like my assistance?]

    It¡¯s fine. You can focus on dinner. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re going to do with that monster meat without proper cooking utensils or spices.

    [I have my ways.]

    Should I ask?

    [It would ruin the mystery.]

    ¡­is it dangerous?

    [As dangerous as all immensely pleasurable things are.]

    I suppose you can¡¯t help yourself from corrupting people. Good. I¡¯m going to crawl through small, dark tunnels. The least I deserve is a delicious meal. Let me know if something happens.

    [Good luck, Lou.]

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-68

    Once the mamaroons I spied coming out of the ground disappear, I transform into an ooze and moved forward. This form isn¡¯t from this world. No way they recognize it as a threat.

    In the form of a blob, I roll over to where the mamaroons emerged. I form a tentacle and transform the end of it into the shape of a spade. Then I begin to dig. It only takes a few scoops of earth to reveal a deep tunnel, too deep for sunlight to penetrate its depths.

    As I thought. It would take too much power to build a tunnel to the surface every time they wanted to leave. Much easier to simply cover the entrance.

    Thank the saints because I would have given up if this required that much digging.

    Next comes the task of squeezing myself into their tunnel. Ugh. It¡¯s not difficult. I compress myself, exchanging most of my girth for length and slither through the tunnel as a featureless snake the color of twilight. I can¡¯t feel any physical discomfort but the proximity of the walls is doing a number on my mind. I¡¯ve heard of people who are afraid of small, dark spaces. Starting to understand the aversion.

    The tunnel moves upward. Into the hill? The main den must be there. A theory further supported when my tunnel branches out, splitting in three. I investigate a little into each but can¡¯t find any differences between them.

    Guess it¡¯s time for my secret weapon.

    With a thought, I turn into a mamaroon, the form perfectly suited for these tunnels. I take a moment to adjust to the new body. Hmph. I¡¯m not used to being this weak. Or should I say, I remember it and never want to go back. I was hoping I wouldn¡¯t have to use this form but the whims of fate are greater than us all.

    My vision hasn¡¯t improved. These things are just as blind down here as I would be. Bastards must use their earth affinity to see. Should have expected as much after the trolls. Sigh.

    Luckily, my hearing is up to the task. I can faintly hear a soft mewling echoing down one of the tunnels. I follow it, keeping my mamaroon form as I scuttle down the tunnel. It branches off several more times but I keep following the mewling.

    Slowly, the tunnel becomes bigger, the ceiling rising until it opens into a cavern. By this body¡¯s standards. In my prime form, I¡¯d call it a hole in the ground, but as I am now, the ceiling is as high as my house¡¯s. There are pinprick sized holes in it, letting in traces of sunlight. Just enough to make out vague details. Like the several dozen members of the den inside. But they¡¯re different, smaller than the corpses I found. Babies. Not infants, I think. Adolescents, maybe.

    There are two adult mamaroons in the corner of the room, watching the others as they wrestle and play. They lift their heads when they see me, one letting out a series of mewls.

    Saints. I wouldn¡¯t have gone after the pups of the den if I had a choice but once again, fate. It¡¯s actually being good to me. I remember Cloud saying that the monsters are protective of their young.

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    With a thought, I turn into an ooze and throw out a dozen tentacles. The soft mews turn into panicked squeaks as I wrap the tiny bodies in tentacles thin as string. Their little claws try to tear me away but it¡¯s useless. No ordinary physical means will work on this form.

    I quickly slither through the tunnels, hurrying back the way I came while dragging my hapless victims with me. The commotion draws others. A swarm of angry squeaks and scratching claws echo through the tunnels as the rest of the mamaroons come for their fellows.

    As the tunnels start to narrow once again, I have a little trouble pulling my victims after me. Some of the squeaks become painful as I force them. Then softer after a few cracks that sound like breaking bones but I ignore the commotion, entirely focused on reaching the surface before the other mamaroons reach the victims at the back.

    One trying to gnaw away my flesh isn¡¯t enough but if five of them try, I don¡¯t know if they¡¯ll succeed. Worse, if they catch up to me, they could collapse the tunnel to trap me. Not dangerous but horribly inconvenient.

    I don¡¯t stop once I finally make it out of the tunnel but I do transform back into a blob. Ah, it feels good to stretch without touching walls.

    In front of me, the opening of the tunnel I just escaped widens. Mamaroons pour out from it like rats escaping the flooding basement of a restaurant in the capital. They don¡¯t hesitate to throw themselves at me, brandishing two large buck teeth.

    I welcome each one, throwing out a tentacle to bind them. I¡¯ve never tested how many tentacles my body can separate into. Apparently, there¡¯s no limit. An endless horde pours from the den, drawn by the cries of their fellows. Three more openings appear in the ground and they rush me from every direction. A sea of fur wherever I look.

    I got nervous after wrapping up forty. I calm down when sixty are within my grasp. I don¡¯t even blink after a hundred.

    When no more come out of the tunnels after five minutes, I conclude the den is empty. The ones I¡¯ve captured are making a big racket. Big enough to draw predators. Hm. Taking them alive is worth more points but how would we keep them? Not to mention feeding them and traveling with them.

    Corpses are easier.

    With a thought, I constrict all my tentacles. The squeaks become shriller before abruptly stopping.

    The ensuing silence is a bit disturbing. Drives home the point that I¡¯ve just snuffed out over a hundred lives. They may have been monsters but it¡¯s still a bit monstrous.

    Good thing I don¡¯t have the kind of conscience that cares about that minor detail. I stack the corpses in a good mood. With this many bodies, my team can kick back and take it easy for the rest of the test.

    Just as I¡¯m about to transform back, something lands near me.

    If I had eyes, they would have widened to the size of dinner plates. Crouched on the ground is a monster, a cross between a bird and a lion; a stocky body covered in tawny fur with strong legs that end in three hooked talons and a long neck topped with the head of an eagle, the feathers along its neck fluffed up to resemble a lion¡¯s mane. Sprouting from its back are two large wings and a thin tail with a bushy end swings behind it.

    That¡¯s a roc. A favorite mount of several knight orders and saints damned expensive. Who in the nine hells is flying around on one of those things in this test? Crap. I thought the instructors wouldn¡¯t be in the Sanctuary. Were they watching the entire time?

    But no. Before I get the chance to get worked up, several figures hop off the roc¡¯s back. One of them familiar.

    Mr. Four Affinities draws his sword and steps forward, watching me warily. Then his eyes shift to the pile of mamaroons.

    Did someone call him the future Harvest Hero? More like Thieving Bastard.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-69

    The initiate was a kind of slow torture for Robert Quintana. Trained by a former royal knight, being grouped with the young and mediocre casters that made up the initiates felt like an insult. A waste of his time, without a doubt. But as his teacher said, every knight had his trials to bear.

    His trial approached its conclusion with the qualifiers nearing their end. The current test had been the first thing to capture his attention in months. A monster hunt, something worthy of his talents. Though he still had an overwhelming advantage.

    It wasn¡¯t his first time hunting manabeasts, though admittedly his teacher had been overseen all others. He was well trained, well learned, and well equipped. As soon as he heard the test would take place in the Beast Sanctuary, he guessed they would be hunting a monster of some sort. Many casters spent their lives as hunters. It made sense that the Hall would want to test their compatibility with the life.

    He and his team, a group of the talented youths from the capital, knew what to expect. They immediately gathered their camping gear and he retrieved Thorgood, the roc his teacher got him before he enrolled in the Hall, from the stable at the Grand Market. Luckily, while carriages weren¡¯t allowed, tamed beasts and mounts were. A sensible decision as hunters often used monster companions to track their prey.

    Then, the test became a cakewalk. Rocs were intelligent. He showed Thorgood the drawing and they took to the air. There were a few predators in the sky but instincts kept them away from the stronger predator. He simply had to relax and wait for his mount to find their prey.

    ¡°Oo! Bobby, we have to land! There¡¯s a ruspearadon.¡±

    Suppressing a sigh, Robert looked over his shoulder at his teammate. Lanston Lorriette, a talented young caster from a long line of knights. Born with two affinities, earth and water, he could be a talented knight that would do his family proud, if he had the temperament for it. He had the resources commoner boys dreamed of but rather than fight for glory, all he wanted to do was stick his nose in books. Even now, as they flew in what was hostile territory, the bright-eyed young man was entirely unconcerned, peering through his spyglass with a wide grin.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you, call me Quin. And we¡¯re not stopping. We¡¯re in the middle of a test.¡±

    Further back, another of his teammates, Sebas Hoffen, scoffed. Robert didn¡¯t have to turn around to know that the dark blue eyes were glaring at him with barely restrained hatred. ¡°We may as well. This qualifier is a joke.¡±

    ¡°We should take it seriously.¡±

    ¡°Oh? And how seriously is the Hall taking this? We¡¯re hunting weasels, for saints¡¯ sake. Besides, we could do absolutely nothing and pass this so-called test. The initiate year was a formality. Our tutors have already been selected. There¡¯s no one to impress. I say we land somewhere shady and relax.¡±

    ¡°Not going to happen. As future royal knights, we have to set an example.¡±

    ¡°An example for who? We didn¡¯t even receive a guide, the ones meant to keep an eye on us. I know your education is lacking, being of common blood, but that is called a subtle hint. Your act is impressing no one.¡±

    Robert¡¯s lips curled in disgust as he prepared to launch into one of their usual arguments but another voice beat him to it.

    ¡°Shush! Saints, every time you open your mouth it¡¯s to complain about something.¡± Cecile Guiness snapped shut a handhold mirror and turned to him. ¡°Are you any kind of man? How do you expect to look after a family if you can¡¯t complete a simple job?¡±

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    ¡°Thank you for the support,¡± Sebas said sarcastically. ¡°Good to know my future wife will be there to support me through the good times and the bad.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Dare to complain when you¡¯re engaged to me?¡± she said, flicking her light brown hair. ¡°As if a depressing bastard like you could catch my attention if you weren¡¯t blood of the king.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t have any delusions, my dear. I agreed to our marriage for your wallet, not your looks. I¡¯m looking forward to our wedding night with all the anticipation of a man receiving his execution sentence.¡±

    ¡°Hmph! Hopefully your seed isn¡¯t as pathetic as you are so we only have to deal with each other once.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so crass. The future Harvest Hero won¡¯t want a mistress, let alone a wife, who has a mouth like a horse¡¯s ass.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± Robert pretended he didn¡¯t know she had looked at him as she paused. ¡°Well, too bad this isn¡¯t the capital. No one here gives a damn about your tantrums.¡±

    ¡°As the highest ranking¡ª¡±

    ¡°This is the Hall. Who your uncle is means nothing. We were all there when Sir Quintana warned us that status meant nothing here. We¡¯re all equals.¡±

    ¡°Equals.¡± Sebas said the word slowly, as if his mouth had trouble forming it. ¡°Equals then. As equals, I say we take a vote and let the majority decide. My vote says we land, find ourselves a decent meal, and sleep away this farce. Lanston? Lanston!¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± The young scholar put down his spyglass. ¡°What are we saying?¡±

    ¡°We were discussing landing and letting you have a look around.¡±

    ¡°Oh! That¡¯d be fantastic!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Two votes for landing,¡± Sebas spoke over Cecile. ¡°I know where you stand, my gold. Bobby?¡±

    Robert sighed, lamenting he wouldn¡¯t escape his childhood name anytime soon. ¡°You know where I stand. We do the job.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m with Quin~¡± Cecile said. He turned around to flash her a grateful smile but turned before he could be drawn into her flirtatious gaze. As someone who aspired to rise through the ranks, he couldn¡¯t afford flights of fancy.

    ¡°That leaves it to our mascot. Orphie, will you grace us with a few words?¡±

    Robert looked back at the last member of his team, Orphelia Yemen. To be honest, he didn¡¯t understand why she was here. He expected the last member of his five-man team would be another apprentice of someone reputable but just before they left for the Hall, his teacher introduced them to the quiet girl with the prettiest hazel eyes he¡¯d ever seen.

    Her petite body didn¡¯t look like it¡¯d seen a day of training and she had a common water affinity. She wasn¡¯t a future scholar like Lanston and didn¡¯t have a strong family background as the daughter of a baron. She spoke little but firmly, never flinching in the face of her ¡®betters¡¯. She didn¡¯t belong, but she was too heavy a stone to be pushed out.

    ¡°We do our job,¡± she said with finality.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to impress anyone, girl,¡± Sebas said. ¡°We¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do the job,¡± she repeated. ¡°If you can¡¯t handle the responsibility of finishing a simple quest, you can forget ever managing a territory of your own.¡±

    He scowled but didn¡¯t engage in his favorite pastime, scolding. It never worked against her. Every compliment or insult rolled off her the same as the water she controlled. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s waste our time hunting overgrown weasels.¡±

    Robert shook his head. Sebas was the classic noble, manipulating others to get their way and acting personally wronged when things didn¡¯t work out in their favor. He had to put up with it for now but one day, when he had the power to make the king heed his words, he would no longer have to indulge the boy¡¯s whims.

    ¡°Kraahhhhh!!¡±

    ¡°What is it, boy?¡± Robert asked, patting Thorgood on the head. ¡°Did you find them?¡±

    ¡°Krah!¡±

    ¡°Get ready.¡± The idle chatter behind him stopped as his team grabbed the roc¡¯s saddle. Robert glanced back at them, making sure they were all prepared, before shouting, ¡°Dive!¡±

    Thorgood screeched and turned to the ground. Robert grit his teeth as he endured the harsh wind as they rocketed downward. Close to the ground, the roc threw out its wings, gliding the rest of the way. He could feel his mount using the wind affinity to slow its descent, making their landing smooth and gentle.

    He immediately saw what his mount spotted from way up on high. A pile of mamaroons, enough that if they took possession of them, Sebas might get his wish to spend the test lazing. There was only one problem.

    In front of what might as well be a pile of treasure was a creature he¡¯d never seen before.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-70

    Robert dismounted first, a hand on his sword as he waited for the others to follow. He motioned for Lanston to come closer. ¡°Any idea what it is?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Eyes wide with curiosity, the lanky young man would have walked right up to it if Robert didn¡¯t grab the back of his shirt. ¡°It resembles a slime but the coloring is wrong.¡±

    ¡°Slime?¡±

    ¡°A rare carnivorous magic plant with the water affinity. Quite similar to seaweed. It roves around as a ball of water, hiding in different water sources to ambush prey coming for a drink.¡±

    ¡°Dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Hardly. It can be dangerous underwater but on land, it¡¯s practically useless.¡± Lanston frowned. ¡°But this can¡¯t be a slime. It¡¯s the wrong environment. They are found in places with ample water. Not this.¡± He gestured at their surroundings. ¡°And the color is wrong. So is the consistency. That doesn¡¯t look like water.¡±

    ¡°Best guess?¡±

    ¡°I would say a mutation but¡­no. Likely something entirely different, something I¡¯ve never seen.¡± He sounded excited.

    Robert didn¡¯t share his enthusiasm. Nothing posed more danger to a hunter than an unknown manabeast and the danger didn¡¯t end with whether the creature could kill them.

    ¡°Why are we bothering with this?¡± Sebas grumbled. ¡°Weren¡¯t you bent on doing this qualifier? There is our objective. We kill the weird creature and get on with it.¡±

    ¡°For once, I agree with him,¡± Cecile said. ¡°It¡¯s a creature of water, right?¡± She held up a hand and fire danced over her fingertips as her eyes glowed. ¡°Allow me.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Lanston yelled.

    ¡°He¡¯s right. Put the fire out, Cece.¡± Robert sighed. ¡°This is the Beast Sanctuary. The monsters here are not just monsters, they are the property of the Hall. If this thing is a rare mutant, or worse, a newly evolved manabeast, none of us can bear the consequences of killing it. Simply move it aside.¡±

    Sebas clicked his tongue. ¡°Very well.¡± His eyes glowed as he built his spell and raised a hand. Several moments passed and nothing happened.

    ¡°Are you waiting for an audience to cheer you on?¡± Cecile said snidely.

    ¡°I already did something,¡± Sebas said. His voice lost its usual scorn. ¡°I tried to displace it but it hasn¡¯t moved a bit.¡±

    ¡°Seems the null affinity isn¡¯t as powerful as you thought.¡±

    ¡°My affinity has nothing to do with it, dearest. It¡¯s my coefficient. The more mass in the area the spell targets, the more mana it takes to move it. That thing is the size of a large dog and is supposedly a bubble of water. I¡¯ve moved bigger things with a coefficient of ten. I threw thirty units behind that spell. Should have sent the thing flying over that hill. It hasn¡¯t moved a meter.¡±

    ¡°Which means it¡¯s a lot heavier than it looks,¡± Robert concluded.

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    ¡°Too heavy for me to move.¡±

    ¡°Slimes have been known to condense their water shells,¡± Lanston added.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we can ask it to move?¡± Cecile asked.

    ¡°Slimes aren¡¯t known for their intelligence,¡± the young scholar answered. ¡°But all creatures have an instinct for survival. Perhaps a larger predator will scare it off.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Thor.¡± The roc stepped forward, ducking its large head between his outstretched hand. Robert indulged his mount for a moment before pointing at the creature. ¡°Roar.¡±

    ¡°Krahhh!¡±

    Robert waited for the slime creature to flee from the fearsome shriek but the night-colored ooze didn¡¯t move. It bobbed back and forth, almost as if it were dancing. The opposite picture of a creature in fear for its life.

    ¡°Thor. Toy.¡± In training, they used stuffed toys to teach the rocs how to hunt, how to corner prey without delivering a fatal blow. He hoped a few small swipes of the fearsome talons would be enough to send the creature on its way.

    The roc dashed forward. It was more proficient as an aerial hunter but it could also fight well on land. It pounced, snapping its beak at the slime. When that failed to get a reaction, it threw out a talon.

    That¡¯s when things went horribly wrong.

    Like a wave crashing against the shore, the slime expanded and rushed forward. Thorgood had one moment to let out a startled squawk before his head was swallowed. His wings flapped desperately as he tried to pull himself from the creature but the slime held tight, the ooze continuing to spread.

    ¡°Cece!¡± Robert shouted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hit Thor!¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t matter if he¡¯s dead!¡± Robert didn¡¯t wait. Heart pounding with panic, he quickly built a spell and unleashed a large fireball, aiming for the creature. Cecile was quick to follow. Neither of their spells hindered it, the ooze continuing to cover his mount.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Robert pulled his sword, ignoring his team¡¯s shouts of caution as he dashed forward. He raised his sword high, ready to cut the thing away, but before he could get in range, a thick rope of ooze broke from the main body and hit him across the chest.

    Robert felt as if a carriage had bowled him over. The sword fell from his numb fingers as he was thrown backward, tumbling over the ground repeatedly. His blurry vision struggled to make out details but he could hear his teammates fighting.

    He let out a cry of pain as hands grabbed him under the shoulders and dragged him off.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Sebas hissed. ¡°You don¡¯t want to catch that thing¡¯s attention. Fuck! Why are we saddled with that useless bitch when we needed a healer?¡±

    ¡°Help me up.¡± He cried out as Sebas dragged him to his feet, his ribs screaming in complaint. He forced the pain to the back of his mind, focusing on the situation. Cecile was still throwing fire and there was a hole in the ground where Lanston had presumably attempted to drop the creature. Their efforts were ineffective. The only visible part of his mount was his rump, his hind legs moving wildly as Thorgood fought to escape.

    Robert used the pain to focus. He built a simple flame arrow but added a temperature variable, an intensity variable, and added a coefficient of two hundred, nearly his whole mana pool. He screamed as the spell emerged from his hand, the intense flames burning his palm without him taking any precautions and from the whiplash of intense mana drain.

    His spell hissed like a striking snake as it flew. Hot air exploded outward as the spell struck, knocking them off their feet.

    Robert struggled to raise his head. He hoped he would see the creature writhing in pain and his mount, his friend, finishing it off.

    Instead, he saw the last of the roc swallowed by the ooze. There was a strange quiet where all was still. No one even dared to scream. Not out of fear, not out of grief. Robert gaped in mute horror as the slime shrunk, compressing to its original size. Then it bobbed back and forth. Happily?

    Was the damn thing¡­laughing at them?

    Orphelia was the first to move. She grabbed Cecile and Lanston, dragging them away while frequently throwing looks over her shoulder to make sure the creature wasn¡¯t following them.

    ¡°Sebas, get him up, now. We have to move.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me orders.¡±

    Despite his harsh tone, Sebas grabbed him and pulled him away, following after Orphelia. The whole time, Robert was forced to look at the bobbing ooze, the fearful screeching of his mount ringing in his ears.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-71

    They moved as fast as they could, which wasn¡¯t fast at all. Lanston and Sebas took turns dragging Robert after the others. Sebas didn¡¯t have much muscle being a pampered noble, dragging him along for mere moments before complaining about his aching arms. Lanston had more endurance, being the son of a knight, but the heaviest weights he¡¯d lifted during his initiate year were heavy books. He moved slowly and with labored breathing. Orphelia and Cecile matched their pace, ready to protect them, though the fire caster was just as tired as the boys.

    Orphelia directed them to take shelter in the shadow of a hill. Lanston sighed in relief as he laid down his burden, the others dropping to the ground. ¡°Lanston,¡± she snapped. ¡°You still have your spyglass?¡±

    ¡°Ah!¡± He reached for his waist where he kept it tied, nodding when he found it. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°On top of the hill. Make sure nothing is creeping up on us.¡±

    ¡°Sure, got it.¡± He scrambled up the hill as fast as he could.

    Orphelia waited until he was perched over them with the metal tube to his eye before she crouched beside the nearly catatonic Robert. She stared at his blank expression for a few moments before slapping his cheek. ¡°Not the time for you to fall asleep, Quintana,¡± she said as he sputtered.

    Robert blinked rapidly. ¡°Thor¡­¡±

    ¡°Due to your reckless decision to engage a manabeast you know nothing about, your mount is dead. A beast worth thousands of crowns and, more importantly, our supplies were just swallowed by a damn slime.¡±

    She made a sound of disgust as she grabbed his wrist, ignoring his wince. She examined his wounds with a critical eye, poking and prodding his torso. ¡°Congratulations, you¡¯ll live,¡± she said drily.

    ¡°Give him a break, you heartless bitch.¡± Sebas looked up with a scowl. He was exhausted but uninjured. His body barely had the energy to move but that didn¡¯t include his tongue and Orphelia made herself a perfect target for his mounting frustration.

    ¡°None of us can afford a break. We are trapped in an area with an above average population of manabeasts. Again, with no supplies and no adequate shelter. Our strongest fighter is useless¡ª¡± She jostled Robert. ¡°¡ªour second, you, suffering from mana strain. I would appreciate it if you could get your pompous ass off your high horse and focus on reality.¡±

    Sebas scoffed. ¡°I would expect a lowborn noble to overthink a situation. The instructors are watching us. While I¡¯m not thrilled to have this embarrassment witnessed, we are in no danger. They will not allow the blood of the king and their golden egg to be food for monsters. They¡¯ll be coming any moment now!¡± He raised his head and screamed the words at the sky.

    It didn¡¯t answer.

    Orphelia carefully prodded Robert¡¯s sides. ¡°Once again, you overestimate your value.¡±

    ¡°I am one of twelve null casters in the entire kingdom!¡±

    ¡°Which means there are eleven others who make you obsolete.¡± She ignored his scowl and got to her feet. ¡°Worse than your undeserved ego is your underestimation of the Hall¡¯s determination. They have trained the best of the best for centuries. They didn¡¯t do so by holding casters¡¯ hands.

    ¡°If they say we have been left to fend for ourselves, there is no reason to think help is coming. Leaving us without a guide was an acknowledgment of our ability. Clearly, a mistake.¡±

    ¡°You!¡±

    ¡°Will you shut up?!¡± Cecile yelled. Like Sebas, the worse she had to deal with was mana strain. She seemed more concerned with her ruined appearance than their possible impending deaths. ¡°We have a real problem. I don¡¯t think a monster is going to stop because you waved your bloodline in their face,¡± she scolded as she stared at her mirror.

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    ¡°You can relax, dear. Your crush isn¡¯t going to die.¡±

    She snapped the mirror shut. ¡°No, we all are if you keep fucking around. Saints, why are you so useless?¡±

    ¡°Stop yelling,¡± Orphelia hissed. ¡°Words aren¡¯t enough to get past his ego but will draw monsters.¡±

    ¡°Sebas.¡±

    They all stopped to look at Robert as he spoke softly. He slowly tried to sit up, progress halted by pain. Orphelia knelt to help, lifting him to his feet. His usual steadfast gaze was unfocused, his words halting. ¡°My roc¡­was just swallowed by a manabeast Lanston couldn¡¯t recognize. A unique evolution he thinks. If the instructors were watching, I think they would have swooped down then. If not to save Thor, then to collect such a creature.¡±

    Orphelia nodded. ¡°I agree. The Beast Sanctuary treasures monsters more than men. Unlike you Sebas, that creature may truly be unique.¡±

    ¡°Oh, quiet!¡±

    ¡°We¡­¡± Robert said forcefully before the other boy could start on a rant. ¡°¡­need to rest. My ribs¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re bruised but not broken.¡±

    He grunted in acknowledgment. ¡°Still, I can barely move, my mana will need a day before it¡¯s replenished, and I¡¯ve lost my sword.¡±

    ¡°We need to retreat.¡±

    Robert laughed, the sound cutting off in a wince as a hand went to his side. ¡°Do you know the way to the gate? Or how far we are from it? I don¡¯t.¡± Another oversight made due to his overconfidence. He never thought to remember the way, trusting his mount.

    Orphelia dipped her head in acknowledgment. ¡°Understood. Which is why we should get moving as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°You want to run into a monster like this?¡±

    She sighed. ¡°You are nearly as bad as the delusional royal. Robert, you may be the most talented caster on this team but we were all chosen due to our ability.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Sebas sneered. ¡°And what ability does a mediocre water caster from a baron¡¯s house have? I didn¡¯t see you throwing any spells at the creature that was eating our ticket out of here.¡±

    For the first time, Robert and Cecile transferred their scorn to Orphelia. She bore their glances without flinching. ¡°I didn¡¯t. I may be a baron¡¯s daughter but I have a working pair of eyes. Using them, I concluded that it would be a waste of time to throw magic at a creature that seems immune to it. Or were you not paying attention when Robert threw practically every drop of mana in his body at the thing without it flinching?¡±

    She stared at Sebas until he turned his head with a scoff. ¡°Because of this decision, we still have a member that has all of their mana in the event of a monster attack.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I feel so safe with you.¡±

    ¡°With that much energy, I¡¯m sure you can fend for yourself. Cecile and I will focus on attack, Lanston will support and defend Robert.¡±

    ¡°You have all the answers, huh?¡±

    ¡°Sebas, you aren¡¯t helping,¡± Robert snapped. ¡°We need to find another team.¡±

    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Orphelia asked.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know where we¡¯re going. Best strategy is to find another team. They have a guide that can get us out of here or maybe contact an instructor. But that is the last resort. I would prefer that we work together with another team to complete the qualifier.¡±

    ¡°You still want to do this stupid test?¡± Cecile said. ¡°I am completely done with this place. There is dirt where dirt shouldn¡¯t be and I just watched a ball of goo eat our friend.¡±

    ¡°Stop being overdramatic, dear. It was a pet.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re an asshole!¡±

    ¡°And we¡¯re initiates!¡± Robert said strongly. ¡°These are our initiate qualifiers. We may have been given leeway because of our ability but we are still here. They still expect us to pass. What do you think will happen if we hobble out of the Beast Sanctuary having gotten our asses kicked without completing our objective? What will your father say, Sebas? Or your grandfather, Cece?¡±

    Both stiffened at the mention of their patriarchs. ¡°Fuck,¡± Cecile muttered.

    ¡°¡­Robert has a point,¡± Orphelia acquiesced. ¡°You all are worried about a scolding. Imagine the worst possibility. What if we leave and the Hall fails us? Could you dare be so arrogant if you have to repeat your initiate year? I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if your patrons simply discard you.¡±

    The three paled at her words.

    ¡°Good. Then you understand. We are going to find another team and we are going to humble ourselves¡ª¡± She purposely looked at Sebas. ¡°¡ªand hope they can keep us from embarrassing ourselves further. All in agreement?¡±

    ¡°Aye,¡± Robert said.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Cecile echoed.

    Sebas didn¡¯t say anything but his lack of refusal was as good as they could expect.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s get moving. There¡¯s no time to waste.¡±

    She called down Lanston. He quickly put one of Robert¡¯s arms over his shoulders and they started off, Orphelia and Cecile at the front with Sebas bringing up the rear. All their heads remained on a swivel, anticipating the next disaster, no one more than Robert.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-72

    Bwahahaha!

    Saints, the looks on those idiots¡¯ faces! I didn¡¯t expect things to escalate so quickly. All I wanted was to drive the greedy bastards away but the way he sauntered about with complete confidence and set his pet on me pissed me off. He has the gall to try to steal from me and drive me off like some pest.

    He''s lucky he¡¯s alive. Too many people watching him. With these decrees hanging over my head, I don¡¯t need to draw that kind of attention.

    Doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t bully him a little, heh.

    I change back to my prime form, not at all bothered by the fact that I¡¯m nude. Geneva, give me an update.

    [William and the others have returned to the shelter in one piece. Alana has ceased her hunt and is returning with the corpses of three mamaroons.]

    Good for them. When Alana gets back, let her take a quick break and then send them all to me with one of the blankets. I¡¯m going to need help carrying my haul.

    [Very well.]

    I lay on the ground, head propped up by one hand as I wait for my team to arrive, enjoying the sun while my thoughts wander. With this, the qualifiers are over. What else can we do? I should ask Cloud if we can leave early. Maybe invite her back to the house to celebrate. Sigh. Wish I¡¯d brought a deck of cards. Tomorrow¡¯s going to be boring.

    At some point, as I¡¯m almost drifting off, voices catch my attention. A team, far off but heading in my direction. I listen with mounting interest as they approach. Mostly, they¡¯re bickering, but it¡¯s interrupted when a girl exclaims, ¡°Oh saints, why is she lying there naked?!¡±

    The shout was quickly followed by, ¡°Stop looking perverts!¡± by the same voice.

    A man tries to defend himself. ¡°I wasn¡¯t looking at her, idiot! I¡¯m looking at the giant pile of weasels next to her. Fuck! Do you know how many points that¡¯s worth?¡±

    ¡°Those are hers.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± another girl¡¯s voice sneers. ¡°There¡¯s a reason the instructors didn¡¯t ban violence. It¡¯s all part of the test.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not assaulting a naked girl and robbing her like a common bandit!¡±

    ¡°Come on! There¡¯s never going to be a better time.¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

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    ¡°Wait! Saints, women¡­¡±

    ¡°What¡¯d you say?!¡±

    The team changes direction, still bickering. You all should thank that principled young lady. She just saved you. Ah ah, there goes my entertainment.

    The next group to approach is my own team, heralded by the excited coos of Bell as she races ahead of them. I watch the reddish-orange blur dash over the ground before she throws herself at me. I catch her with one hand, rolling onto my back as I cuddle her close. ¡°Hey there, my little saint.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [You have gotten bold, Master Lou.]

    That I have. Haha, I can¡¯t imagine myself being so shameless before my prime form. Or, saints, before I met my wife. This body is a sculpted work of art. I should be getting paid for giving people the pleasure to see it, heh.

    ¡°Oh, for saints¡¯ sake!¡±

    The lovely sound of Alana cursing as she runs toward me makes me smile. I look up to see her stomping over to me with a scowl, the rest of the team jogging to catch up. I wave. ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Why are you naked?!¡±

    ¡°These things happen.¡±

    ¡°Losing your clothes doesn¡¯t just happen!¡±

    I sigh heavily. ¡°You really have been spending all of your time with a bunch of muscleheads.¡±

    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re staring at a naked woman and can¡¯t spare a word of compliment before getting to business. It¡¯s hard to imagine you were raised with manners at all.¡±

    At the mention of my nakedness, she can¡¯t stop her gaze from moving down my body, her face steadily reddening. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Don¡¯t worry, I like women who are a little slow to catch on too.¡±

    ¡°Slow? Who are you calling slow? Stop messing around and get up.¡±

    I just raise a brow. She grits her teeth, fighting to keep her angry eyes on my face. ¡°Lou.¡±

    ¡°Oh, alright.¡± I put Bell on the ground and get to my feet, stretching languidly. Alana loses the battle to keep her eyes off me, swearing softly as she turns away. With a few steps, I¡¯m in front of her, my fingers on her chin forcing her to look at me. ¡°You sure you¡¯re not the one who just wants me for your carnal desires?¡±

    She bites her lower lip. This close, I can see her pupils dilate. A sure sign of arousal according to the icon of lust herself, Geneva.

    But it¡¯s not time. I¡¯ve got to chip away that doubt in her heart before I do anything or she might really think I¡¯m only interested in her for sex.

    As soon as possible. It takes a strong will to turn away the woman I love when she¡¯s giving me a look that¡¯s practically begging me to kiss her. I somehow manage, letting her go and facing the rest of the team that¡¯s finally caught up.

    Marthe doesn¡¯t seem at all bothered by my state of undress, tossing me the blanket in her hands. William is firmly embarrassed, his eyes glued to the ground. Arthur and Cloud are staring without a hint of shame, though I only appreciate one of the lustful gazes.

    ¡°No one¡¯s going to ask anything?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll just encourage you, pervert,¡± Marthe scoffs. ¡°Can we get on with it? I¡¯m starving.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Here. You and Arthur take one end. William and Alana can take the other.¡± I spread the blanket out next to the pile of dead mamaroons and carelessly throw them onto it.

    ¡°How¡¯d you do it anyway?¡± Arthur asks, unabashedly staring at my ass as I bend over.

    ¡°I squeezed into their tunnel and pulled them out.¡±

    ¡°Not with those cheeks, heh.¡±

    I throw the last mamaroon on the blanket and dust off my hands. ¡°I¡¯m trying to be understanding because I know you can¡¯t control yourself and I wouldn¡¯t be able to keep my eyes off a woman as sexy as me either. Don¡¯t make me hurt you. Get to work.¡±

    Arthur clicked his tongue and lifted his corner of the blanket. The others follow and we¡¯re on our way back to camp.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-73

    I expected the others would be happy with my success. Instead, as the tantalizing smell of Geneva roasting a monster bird fills our shelter, my teammates are all wearing frowns of varying degree. I won¡¯t deny a hint of offense. A glory hound I am not but a thank you and a slap on the back wouldn¡¯t be amiss.

    ¡°What¡¯s the with the long faces?¡± I ask them, seated near the fire with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I jerk my head toward the back of the shelter where the dead mamaroons are piled. ¡°That¡¯s a whole lot of reasons to be happy.¡±

    ¡°For you,¡± Marthe scoffs. ¡°Or did you forget that we¡¯re being evaluated individually?¡±

    ¡­ah. ¡°We used teamwork, dividing our resources for the best result.¡±

    Alana sighs. ¡°Maybe the instructors will see it like that but I would prefer to have a few more kills of my own.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± Not my problem if they want to work themselves to the bone. ¡°There¡¯s still plenty of time.¡±

    ¡°Mm. We¡¯ll have to move after lunch¡­and you should stay here.¡±

    I give her a look. ¡°Sure about that?¡±

    ¡°The whole point is to make progress without you. Besides, someone needs to guard the shelter and those points you¡¯re so proud of.¡±

    You and I both know that Geneva could do so. Are you trying to make me feel better? ¡°You¡¯re still taking Bell. Don¡¯t worry, she won¡¯t do a thing but watch your backs. All the back-breaking labor is for you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± my friend says drily.

    ¡°Lady Tome,¡± William says cautiously. He¡¯s always been shy but walking upon me naked as the day I was born has taken it to another extreme. He hasn¡¯t looked directly at me since. It¡¯s a good thing I have good hearing or there¡¯s no way I¡¯d catch the murmurs he¡¯s speaking to the wall. ¡°You never said¡­why did we find you naked?¡± He coughs, fighting the embarrassment heating his cheeks. ¡°Did something happen?¡±

    ¡°Something like what?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­um¡­¡±

    I wonder, can he really not come up with a plausible scenario? Or is he too embarrassed to say what he came up with? Never underestimate the depravity of the repressed. I should know. Once, I would have used that word to describe me.

    The truth is, I don¡¯t know what happened to my clothes. Was I still wearing them on my thin body as I slithered through the mamaroons¡¯ tunnels? Were they on the ground when I swallowed Mr. Four Affinities¡¯ pet? Either way, I can¡¯t exactly explain.

    ¡°I got hot so I took them off.¡±

    The silence that greets my explanation is accompanied by disbelief and judging eyes. I smile at their glares.

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    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m kidding. The truth is, I saw a girl from another team that I thought was pretty cute. She was too far away for me to call out to her so I thought I¡¯d use body language.¡±

    Arthur laughs uproariously while Marthe turns away in disgust. I can¡¯t see William¡¯s expression, turned to the wall as he is. Alana worries me. Her brows ae furrowed in contemplation. Oi, it was a joke. ¡°¡­you¡¯re not taking that seriously, are you?¡±

    ¡°Not that hard to believe actually.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I¡¯m just glad you didn¡¯t give away your points because she winked at you.¡±

    ¡°¡­it was honestly a joke.¡± That¡¯s cold, my friend. The worst part is she says it without any judgment. Birds fly and Lou¡¯s a degenerate pervert. Simply the way the world is.

    ¡°The meal is ready,¡± Geneva calls, saving me from addressing Alana¡¯s questionable opinion of me. The mood in the room is quickly elevated as we snack on the delicious bird, everyone going back for seconds. How did she do this? Is she hiding bags of seasoning under her dress?

    Soon after their meal, my team abandons me with Bell and Cloud following them at a distance. I shrug off the blanket around my shoulders and lay it down, stretching over it as I continue my meal. Geneva worked on my prime form¡¯s digestive functions to ultimate efficiency. My stomach can break down this monster meat in a matter of moments and my body stores it away without a bit of waste. I could eat the whole giant bird myself, which is nothing new with my original form, but this way I can appreciate her cooking.

    Unfortunately, I¡¯m not allowed to finish the qualifier early. Defending my points from other teams is also a part of the test. I have to find something to keep me entertained.

    Geneva turns away from the meat she¡¯s roasting over a magical fire and smiles at me. ¡°That is quite a look you¡¯re giving me, my summoner~¡±

    ¡°¡­come here.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t hesitate to abandon the slab of meat, haphazardly tossing it out of the shelter. I sit up and she straddles my lap, her thin arms wrapping around my neck. Big, pink eyes look up at me as she purses her lips invitingly. ¡°How may I serve?¡±

    ¡°You know how.¡±

    I grasp her chin with two fingers and kiss her. There¡¯s no need to play coy or tease her. I don¡¯t waste time pushing my tongue past her lips as my hands uncaringly rip away her dress.

    ¡°Kyaa~¡±

    I pause, staring at her shy expression and flushed cheeks with furrowed brows. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    The flush in her cheeks and her fluttering eyes disappear, replaced by a sly smirk. ¡°I thought with your lack of progress with your sun you¡¯d appreciate a more delicate approach. A sample of the future, if you would.¡±

    I sigh. ¡°It¡¯s useless. I¡¯d never believe an innocent act coming from you. Besides, you and Alana are night and day.¡±

    ¡°You underestimate me but we can play another time.¡± She throws away the scraps that remain of her clothes. I jump as I feel the spade end of her tail move between my legs, brushing my entrance.

    ¡°That¡¯s better,¡± I sigh against her lips. I moan as the end of her tail finally pushes inside and she swallows the sound with her lips. Dainty fingers find the head of my ¡®gift¡¯ and I grind against them as she teases me. The damn thing is so sensitive, it doesn¡¯t take long before I¡¯m shuddering in pleasure.

    Then I feel her magic take hold of me, wracking my mind with echoes of my climax. Then again, increasing its intensity. The humping of my hips becomes more desperate as I shudder against her.

    My brain is still foggy with pleasure as she guides my erect member to her entrance. I hiss as her lower lips swallow me, the feeling almost too much to bear. I pull away from our kiss, burying my nose in the side of her neck as I tremble. ¡°What¡­are you doing?¡± I groan. I can¡¯t muster the strength to move. I can barely think.

    Geneva pushes me down, straddling my waist. Later, her evil smile as she looks down at me would send chills down my spine. ¡°What you asked. Now, shhh.¡±

    Her inner walls massage my cock in an inhumane flex of muscle. That¡¯s all it takes for me to erupt, head slamming back on the ground hard enough to send chips of rock flying. The last of my thoughts fly out of my head as she raises up and slams her hips down.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-74

    After four hours of walking, Sebas and Cecile recovered from their mana strain but the strenuous physical activity wore them down until they looked nearly as bad as Robert. The aspiring hero bore the pain in his side stoically as he marched on, the endurance built from his training showing its mettle.

    Lanston and Orphelia were by far the most exhausted. The young scholar was constantly scaling every hill they passed, perching at the top to scan their surroundings and give them direction. Without even a sip of water or bite of jerky to replenish his energy, the strain was starting to show, his normally energetic demeanor reduced to solemn grunts and nods. Despite his exhaustion, he continued to do his job.

    Orphelia bore the strain better despite having a duty just as demanding. The team followed through on their plan to seek assistance from another team. The first group Lanston spotted was a group with mounts, simple horses. Cecile successfully drew their attention with a bright arrow of fire but the other team refused to offer aid.

    Orphelia didn¡¯t blame them. They had clearly come prepared for a five-man expedition and, at the moment, her team was very much deadweight. Sebas did not make things better by trying to intimidate them into lending their aid, Robert too slow to quiet him before the damage was done.

    Cecile¡¯s offer of a substantial payday was almost enough to sway them but, in the end, they chose to focus on the test. Orphelia was disappointed as they rode off but didn¡¯t bother to waste her energy complaining. Sebas had that covered, letting out a stream of curses so vile, she briefly wondered where the sheltered man could have heard them.

    Lanston found them another team, one trudging over the wasteland. One far less prepared for the test and much more open to the idea of cooperation. However, the goal was to find a team in a better situation, not to struggle along with people in just as dire straits. Not to mention, they demanded boons they didn¡¯t deserve for their assistance, their arrogance making even Orphelia¡¯s lips curl in distaste.

    Their response to her rejection was to resort to threats. As the healthiest member of their group, it came down to her to defend her team. All eyes widened in shock when she pulled two slim daggers from under her robe.

    Summoning water, especially in such an arid environment, would take a considerable amount of mana. Better to rely on her martial abilities. Ones forged over years as a hidden asset of the kingdom. She took full advantage of their surprise and rushed them, unhesitatingly going for fatal blows.

    Luckily, she didn¡¯t need to reveal all her secrets. One mortal wound and a well-placed flame arrow scared them off, leaving her with minor injuries and a worsening attitude. The only good thing about their terrible luck was that Sebas stopped making snide remarks at her. Instead, his eyes were calculating, re-evaluating her.

    Another problem. The pampered boys and girls, including the proud Robert who lived under the delusion that he had built himself up through his own efforts the same as the great Dunwayne, were not meant to know exactly how capable she was. After being trained all her life to battle the worst the kingdom had to offer, at eighteen, she should have been enlisting in the royal army and building her reputation. Instead, because of a deal made between her sire and the guardians of her charges, she was forced to be a babysitter for the next five years.

    She did get something out of the deal. Besides the gold promised to her, the Grand Hall was a great place to continue honing her skills, though she would have preferred more hands-on instruction. It was also the best place to recruit talents for her real team, the ones whom with she would build her own legend.

    Robert¡¯s four affinities were very impressive. The boy was a once in a generation talent, maybe a one in ten generations talent. However, too many people had told him so. If he kept his head down and worked on his magic, Orphelia would be far more interested in him. Instead, he tried to be the superman they saw him as. He wanted the demeanor of a high noble, the spirit of a knight, the education of a scholar, and the fighting prowess of a dedicated soldier.

    Most annoying of all, he wanted to be a leader. Perhaps one day he would be capable of such, but as an inexperienced pup in a world of monsters, he would be better served to rely on his teammates more as opposed to taking charge. There was a reason these talents had been brought together but Robert was far too caught up in his own magnificence to make efficient use of them.

    The biggest example to date was the catastrophe with the unknown slime. It would have been simple to have Cecile and Lanston pelt it with spells from a distance but instead, he pandered to Sebas¡¯ ego by allowing the utility null caster to attack and when that failed, tried to prove his superiority once again by having the mount gifted to him by his teacher scare it off.

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    That decision cost them their transportation and their supplies. Worse, after clearly seeing they were outmatched, the idiot ran up to the monster resposnsible with nothing more than a dream and got himself injured.

    Worse than that, as if seeking to outdo his previous stupidity, he threw nearly his entire coefficient at it. The first thing his teacher should have taught him to never do. She could only thank the saints that the rest hadn¡¯t followed suit or she might have simply abandoned them to their fates.

    As amazingly terrible as Robert¡¯s display was, he was still the best of the lot. Sebas couldn¡¯t hold back his envy toward Robert long enough to get anything done. The petty boy had even proposed to Cecile when he saw the two of them getting close, thinking it a victory over the talented commoner.

    Cecile was a bit better. Her biggest problem was that she simply lacked talent. With her basic fire affinity and average intelligence, she could only hope to be an above average caster at best. The biggest boon she brought to the team was the enormous wallet of the Guiness family and the wide network of connections all merchant families built but there was little need for them in a safe ¡®sandbox¡¯ like the Grand Hall.

    She personally liked Lanston the most. Again, his talent was middling, the boy chosen more for his familiarity with Robert than anything else but his attitude was commendable. Curious and always willing to learn, he supported the team in multiple ways, acting as the resident monster expert, their scout with his handy spyglass, and even their cook when they didn¡¯t have high-quality rations on hand.

    Unfortunately, he had made it clear that he preferred flipping through books as opposed to wrestling monsters. She knew his determination would only be reinforced at the Grand Hall, where the greatest scholars of the kingdom gathered. It would be a surprise if he remained with the team another year.

    Their conduct on their march only served to worsen her opinions of them. The fools truly thought the instructors had left them with no supervision. Sebas was correct when he declared that they would be passing the qualifier no matter their performance but he was quite mistaken that a poor performance would go unpunished. The thought of the scathing letters she would be sending to each of their guardians kept her mood up as she continued trudging on.

    The more time dragged on, the more dire their situation became. The last thing she wanted was to be wandering about when night fell. In most places, monsters became more active, and more deadly, after sundown. If they could not find another team soon, she would have to give up the search and guide them to find shelter. That would be the end of the test for them.

    The others thought they were in pain now. Tomorrow, they would all be statues, frozen with muscle ache and exhaustion. She could provide them with water but not food. They wouldn¡¯t have the energy for another endless march.

    They¡¯d be lucky if their mana recovered to half capacity and the fools had no clue how to go about actually searching for the mamaroons, their whole plan to rely on the roc. The tenders had given them the chance to ask as many questions as they wanted but Robert had sauntered away, too concerned with his image to defer to someone else¡¯s wisdom.

    After another hour, daylight began to fade. She was dangerously close to stopping and directing them to find shelter but decided to have Lanston scale one more hill. She tapped his shoulder and he gave her a tired nod. She felt a little sympathy watching his tired figure drag itself to the top of the hill. He took a knee and put the spyglass to his eye.

    Almost immediately, he let out an excited cry. ¡°Orphie! I see smoke!¡±

    She hated the pet name but her own excitement let her ignore it. ¡°What else?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s a hill blocking my view.¡±

    A tough decision. A fire meant another team. A shelter. Hopefully food. She¡¯d been trained to endure hunger but that didn¡¯t mean she found a growling stomach comfortable. Better, they could have a chance to pass the test with another team¡¯s help. They couldn¡¯t exactly fail but she had her own pride.

    If they ignored the smoke, she and her tired team would have to make their own shelter and protect themselves throughout the night, a tough task. They could give up any hopes of finishing the test. Perhaps most trying of all, she would have to endure their complaints for a full day, listening to the children bicker back and forth until it was time to go. That alone nearly made up her mind.

    There remained a dreaded third option. They could exhaust themselves to reach the fire only to find a hostile team. She doubted any of the initiates had the gall to gravely injure her teammates but the world was full of crazy bastards and she was tasked with keeping them alive. It was a slim chance but could she afford to take it?

    ¡°What are we waiting for?¡± Robert walked ahead of her, lips pressed in a tight line as he forced himself to increase his pace. ¡°An already constructed shelter and a team with clear ability. This is precisely what we have been waiting for. We need to reach them before dark.¡±

    Orphelia wanted to slap the back of his head and scream at him that charging forward without caring for the consequences didn¡¯t equate to bravery but recklessness. She made a note to include his desperate need to face more life-and-death challenges in her review so he could appreciate being alive rather than believing it was owed to him.

    It was too late to call him back as Sebas and Cecile had already started following him. She waved down Lanston. ¡°Run ahead and make sure they¡¯re going the right way.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± He jogged off with newfound energy. At least the decision had revitalized them, doubling their pace from the last hour. Orphelia followed them more sedately, eyes snapping about as she watched for threats.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-75

    With the team rushing as fast as they were able, it didn¡¯t take long before they spotted the smoke trail without the aid of Lanston¡¯s tool. The urgency of the others infected Orphelia a little, her awareness dropping as she let her anticipation grow.

    She yelled them to a stop when she spotted the shelter built into the side of a small hill. ¡°Lanston, what do you see?¡± she asked, keeping her own eyes on the surroundings.

    ¡°¡­looks like they hollowed out the side of the hill. There¡¯s a carcass in front of the shelter. Some kind of large bird.¡±

    ¡°Thank the saints, food!¡± Sebas exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯m starving.¡±

    Orphelia felt better about the hasty decision with the presence of ample food. The first team they came across rejected them because they brought enough for five, not ten. However, this team had a surplus, putting them in a position that would be more willing to bargain. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Mm, can¡¯t see much from here. Wait, one of them is coming out. It¡¯s¡­¡±

    She looked over when he hadn¡¯t responded in over a minute. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his flushed cheeks and parted lips. Her suspicions soared as she saw him visibly swallow.

    With a quick hand, she snatched away the spyglass, ignoring his wordless sound of protest. She put it to her eye.

    The entrance of the shelter was magnified. Standing beside the corpse was a petite young woman who was clearly not human. A creature she recognized as a thrall, a staple contracted elemental made prominent by the Grimoire family. She showed no concern for her nakedness as she cut away pieces of meat from the bird with sharp claws.

    Suddenly, the thrall looked up and smiled at her.

    Orphelia swore softly as she handed the spyglass back to Lanston. ¡°We¡¯re going over there.¡±

    ¡°Wait. What did you see?¡± Robert asked.

    ¡°I saw plenty of food and a thrall.¡±

    Robert seemed clueless. Behind him, Cecile flinched and Sebas¡¯ brows furrowed. ¡°If there is a thrall there,¡± he said slowly, ¡°we should be going the opposite way.¡±

    ¡°They will not dare to use the mental affinity against us,¡± she said, wondering where his arrogance from earlier had gone.

    ¡°The Grimoires are crazy. They rioted in the capital. There is no telling what they will do.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. But there are no initiates from the Grimoire family this year.¡±

    His frown deepened. ¡°Who else has a thrall?¡±

    ¡°¡­I know,¡± Cecile said haltingly. ¡°Lourianne Tome.¡±

    Her words got a reaction from Robert. He scowled. ¡°That name¡­isn¡¯t that rude woman from registration? With the obnoxious man who bullied the others into letting them cut. Surely you don¡¯t expect her to help us.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a summoner my father has his eye on.¡± Cecile didn¡¯t need to elaborate on that statement for them to understand the weight of her words. ¡°We¡¯ve already cooperated with her and she¡¯s friends with my aunt.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­I remember now. Lourianne Tome. She¡¯s the one who caused problems for Prince Samuel and the Pottoculli family. The rumors are that she is a pervert and a beast toward women.¡± Sebas smiled at Cecile, nothing friendly in the expression. ¡°You may have to pay quite the price to secure that degenerate¡¯s cooperation, my dear.¡±

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    Cecile shuddered.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure her teammates wouldn¡¯t allow such,¡± Robert said. ¡°I remember she was with Alana James. She is a woman of honor.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Someone you have your eye on?¡±

    ¡°This is hardly the time for your teasing,¡± Robert said. His sharp tone couldn¡¯t hide how uncomfortable the question made him.

    Orphelia decided to intervene before the conversation could continue getting off track. ¡°We are taking a risk, yes, but all of that is irrelevant. Thralls are often overlooked as sexual playthings. People forget their casting prowess.¡± As if lust alone would have allowed the Grimoires to strangle the crown.

    ¡°They all have the physical affinity and are capable healers.¡± She looked at Robert scathingly. ¡°Your ribs aren¡¯t broken but you could be suffering internal injuries.¡± She doubted it but it was the nature of such wounds to go unnoticed by even the most experienced healers. ¡°Your life may hang in the balance. We are going.¡±

    Her argument was irrefutable. The team exchanged looks, silently coming to an agreement. Lanston put away his spyglass, the others took a few deep breaths, and they were on their way.

    Soon, they stood outside the shelter and the thrall came over to meet them. She was different from the pictures Orphelia was shown. The Grimoire family kept their pets close to human to better entrap lustful men and drop their guards. This creature made no attempts to hide its otherness, with ash gray skin, visible small horns, and a long tail that leisurely swished through the air.

    She remained naked, something that made Orphelia nervous as her summoner had plenty of time to dress her. It meant the games had already begun and this Lourianne Tome had the mental advantage. All her teammates were affected. Lanston was almost drooling while Sebas was more subtle in his interest. Robert, the chivalrous one, couldn¡¯t look at her, his gaze averted to the sky. Cecile¡¯s eyes flicked over the thrall but there was no lust in her gaze. If Orphelia had to guess, it was a female sizing up the competition which made her more ridiculous than the boys. She could never win comparing herself to a shapeshifter.

    ¡°Hi!¡± the thrall said cheerily, striking pink eyes wide and innocent. ¡°Are you all okay? You don¡¯t look well.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve had a bit of trouble,¡± Orphelia said quickly, refusing to let the others ruin their golden chance. ¡°It would be much appreciated if we could share your shelter and partake in your catch.¡± She nodded her head in the direction of the monster carcass.

    ¡°I see. And what would my summoner receive in return? Besides the joy of giving.¡±

    In the end, the world moved for profit. ¡°We have little to offer now¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t say that.¡± The thrall¡¯s sly smile conveyed all the meaning it needed as she blatantly moved her eyes over Orphelia, tail moving faster.

    She ignored the innuendo. ¡°But we can offer plenty of recompense once the qualifiers are finished. We would also be willing to work together for a better result.¡±

    ¡°I see. One moment.¡± The thrall closed her eyes, likely communicating with her summoner. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, smile widening. ¡°My summoner is listening.¡±

    Orphelia reluctantly motioned toward Cecile, hoping her eyes communicated what she wanted. Luckily, the girl already understood. Her haughty attitude was nowhere to be found as she inclined her head. ¡°Hello. My name is Cecile Guiness. Your summoner is well-acquainted with my aunt, Maxine Guiness.¡±

    ¡°Of course. You must be the daughter of one of the marquis¡¯ elder children.¡±

    ¡°Yes. You should know that my family¡¯s name is enough to promise an apt reward. Out of respect for our previous cooperation, I will leave it to Lady Tome to name her price.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Is there anything else you¡¯d like to offer?¡±

    Orphelia couldn¡¯t tell if the offer was inadequate or if Lourianne Tome was fishing for as much profit as she could get. The thrall gave nothing away. Still, it wasn¡¯t the time to be arrogant.

    ¡°The only other thing we can offer is our gratitude.¡±

    Sebas opened his mouth to flaunt his bloodline once again but she stopped him with a cold glare. As if a creature with the mental affinity didn¡¯t know who he was. She doubted he thought of anything else. Orphelia wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Lourianne Tome had had them all investigated after their confrontation during the registration. It¡¯s what she would have done.

    ¡°One moment.¡± The thrall closed her eyes for several long moments. Just as Orphelia was beginning to feel a little nervous, she opened her eyes. ¡°My summoner has agreed to allow you into the shelter and freely offers her food. As for cooperation between your teams, it must be discussed when the other members of her team return.¡±

    The thrall cut a large section of meat from the bird and went back inside. Orphelia swallowed her trepidation and followed, leading her team into the shelter.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-76

    If Orphelia had to describe what she saw after stepping into the shelter in one word, she would sarcastically call it scenic.

    It was hard to see the artificial cave as a shelter made by initiates who should have little experience building anything. The smooth walls and compact earth said a talented earth caster with a decent coefficient had done the work. An acolyte of several years, at least.

    At the back of the cave, mamaroons were piled up like garbage. Dozens of them, their beady eyes wide with the shock of death. Hours ago, she nearly resigned herself to failing the test and now she stood before hundreds of points, a result she didn¡¯t feel confident achieving even if she didn¡¯t hold back.

    No other supplies were stacked against the walls, which was disappointment. The group had brought along blankets, five of them, and laid them out on the ground.

    Lounging on the centermost one was a naked young woman, leisurely chewing a piece of meat.

    From the gasps and whispered exclamations behind her, Orphelia knew her team was grappling with their shock. One of the most important skills a hunter or soldier had to learn was accepting reality. Many times, the split second someone indulged to revel in a surprising moment could be deadly. She skipped the wide-eyed gaping and went straight to analysis.

    She didn¡¯t have to wonder why Lourianne Tome was naked. With the similarly undressed thrall, the musky scent obscured by the tantalizing smell of the cooking meat, and the visible wet spots in the blanket beneath her, the conclusion was obvious.

    She drew several more conclusions. Assuming the woman wasn¡¯t a complete idiot, she was confident in her skill. So confident, she would have sex in an unsecured shelter while surrounded by monsters and other possibly hostile teams. So saints damn confident, she would invite another team, without a doubt one of the most capable teams in the test, into her shelter while the rest of her team were off doing saints knew what.

    Orphelia really hoped she wasn¡¯t staring at an idiot. Because if so, the woman who lounged before her was a future master caster. The monsters piled up behind her seemed to support her confidence.

    Her analysis moved to the woman herself. Orphelia wasn¡¯t trained traditionally, alongside several other disciples. She had tutors and, later, opponents. While her sense of camaraderie might have suffered, she was familiar with a number of different physiques. The stout bodies of knights, the leaner forms of casters, and even once, a melded man who showed her the pinnacle of the human form.

    If she had to compare Lourianne to any of those three, she would place her closer to the melded knight. The body before her did not have an ounce of unnecessary fat and incredible definition. Especially her legs and abdomen, where it was hardest to keep it off. Her abs looked as if someone had taken a chisel to her stomach. However, most telling of all, was her skin. Smooth and unblemished. Not so much as a dark spot. Something that was simply impossible without magical aide.

    And if that weren¡¯t enough, her coloring would have given it away. As in, the violet highlights in her dark hair and her violet eyes. Most melded soldiers were hidden assets like her, wolves disguised as sheep. That¡¯s where the danger came from. A knight would raise his sword to block a strike as he¡¯d done a thousand times only to have his shield shattered and arm broken as his opponent unleashed superhuman strength.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Lourianne Tome had done the opposite. She had gone beyond normal vanity and declared herself something else, at least to anyone with the knowledge to recognize it.

    ¡°Staring at me so hard.¡± Lourianne stretched, flexing her impressive physique, before sitting up and crossing her legs at the ankles. Cecile let out an undignified squeak as her nether region was exposed. Lourianne smiled at her. ¡°You¡¯ll make me blush.¡±

    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± Robert scolded. ¡°Do you have no shame?!¡±

    ¡°I see you haven¡¯t reflected on your behavior, Mr. Talented.¡± She chuckles. ¡°I should be asking you that.¡±

    ¡°Me?! What kind of woman greets people with nothing on?¡±

    ¡°Have you ever heard the phrase, my home is my kingdom? You are guests, no, strays asking for refuge in my home, no matter how small or temporary it may be. You have no right to question my behavior. If it is unsatisfactory, please, see yourself out.¡±

    ¡°You¡­do you not understand common decency?¡±

    ¡°You mistakenly believe I want to be common.¡± She laughed at him. ¡°But speaking of common manners, you should be embarrassed that you skipped straight to insulting me without so much as introducing your team.¡±

    ¡°We¡ª¡±

    ¡°We humbly apologize,¡± Orphelia cut him off. Robert looked at her with confusion as she grabbed his shoulder, forcefully marching him to the left wall. She pressed on his side and he winced, unable to keep his balance as she forced him to sit.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± she hissed against his ear. ¡°Have you forgotten? We need her help right now. Keep trying to mess this up for us and I will throw you outside to sleep with the monsters. See how much they appreciate your chivalrous act.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    She cut him off by pressing against his side again. He grasped her arm tightly, gritting his teeth to keep from yelling. ¡°I¡¯ll remember this,¡± he hissed.

    ¡°So will I,¡± she promised before standing up. She used her eyes to tell the others to keep quiet as she walked to stand before their host. Her mouth twitched as she tried to remember how to make a charming smile, her etiquette lessons a little rusty from disuse. A beautiful curvature of her lips softened her hard eyes a moment later.

    ¡°Forgive my teammate. Robert has forgotten his manners. Allow me to make introductions. He introduced himself once before but that is Robert Quintana. Behind me are Sebas Hoffen, Cecile Guiness, and Lanston Lorriette.¡±

    She thinned her smile, aiming for ambiguous. ¡°And I am Orphelia Yemen. I¡¯d take no offense if you don¡¯t recognize my family. My father is but a simple baron, myself a filial daughter working to bring him and my house a little more renown.¡±

    ¡°Ha, I can relate. I am Lourianne Tome, daughter of Luke Tome. Call me Lou. You don¡¯t know it, but you¡¯re meeting one of the greatest summoners in the world,¡± she boasted without a hint of shame. ¡°Normally, I¡¯m not one to brag but I hoped a bit of frankness would help you open up more.¡±

    Orphelia slowly let out a deep breath through her nose to control her reaction. What did that comment mean? Had the thrall read her mind? Did her thoughts stray when she introduced herself? But she hadn¡¯t felt the slightest hint of intruding mana.

    ¡°There¡¯s plenty of time to share stories. Take a seat, have something to eat. Geo there can see to your injuries. Robert, that means you. You¡¯re looking a bit pale.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Orphelia waved for her team to approach the magically conjured fire, where the thrall was cooking. Beside her, several cuts of already cooked meat sat on what must have been the bird¡¯s feathers. The others were completely distracted by the meat, especially once they took their first bites.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Sebas exclaimed after swallowing his first bite. ¡°Why the hell are we paying our cooks so much when a damn monster woman can make something a hundred times better in the damn wilderness?¡± He continued eating with angry bites.

    Lanston didn¡¯t comment, his exhaustion and the good meal causing his eyes to droop and his shoulders to sag. Cecile¡¯s eyes were bright with calculation as she stared at the thrall while chewing.

    Orphelia grabbed two pieces of meat and brought them over to Lou. ¡°Would you like to eat together?¡±

    ¡°How considerate~ Have a seat.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-77

    Orphelia handed over the other piece of monster meat and copied Lou¡¯s posture, crossing her legs. It was difficult to contain her reaction to the first bite. Was meat supposed to melt in her mouth? Her teeth barely had to work to get through the succulent flesh and flavorful juices coated her tongue with each bite. ¡°Your thrall is talented.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s one of a kind,¡± Lou said. Orphelia noticed how she made a point to swallow before speaking. It said she cared for appearances, which made her lack of dress a ploy. ¡°So, what would you like to discuss?¡±

    ¡°Discuss?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you came over here to make small talk.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t conversation normal between a hostess and her dinner guests?¡±

    Lou narrowed her eyes as she licked her lips. Orphelia wasn¡¯t confident putting the gesture down as a result of their meal. ¡°My wife likes playing games too. Alright, I¡¯ll bite. Lovely weather we¡¯re having. Sun is keeping back winter as long as it can.¡±

    A hint of genuine amusement crept into Orphelia¡¯s smile. ¡°Indeed, though the wind will have its vengeance come nightfall. I don¡¯t think you have enough blankets.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what a warm body is for. Besides, the cold doesn¡¯t affect me so much anymore.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you are quite¡­developed.¡±

    ¡°Was that a compliment? Thank you~¡±

    ¡°Who is your trainer? I would be lucky to have their advice.¡±

    ¡°Surprised a curious girl like you hasn¡¯t researched me up to my nth ancestor. Or did I leave too little an impression last time?¡± She chuckled. ¡°My trainer is my wife, Kierra Atainna. You may have heard of the elf gallivanting about the human kingdom.¡±

    Orphelia¡¯s brow twitched. The word ¡®elf¡¯ was the trigger and she realized she did know Lourianne Tome. The crown had researched her extensively.

    She was considered a ¡®critical interest¡¯ to the kingdom. Many spy rings, both those employed by the crown and private operations, were investigating her, trying to find a way to crack open the treasure trove of information that was her bride. All attempts of her father¡¯s agents to approach Lou had ended in failure, the girl dismissing those who approached her and dodging all their arranged ¡®chance encounters¡¯.

    She was also considered a low priority threat by the royal army. Summoners were an odd group as there was no good way to quantify what they could do. A fire caster could blow away a town. A summoner could summon chickens that shat explosive gold, for saints¡¯ sake. They were a class of their own.

    There were whispers in the capital that a group of summoners had caught the crown¡¯s attention but nothing of true concern.

    She wondered if Lourianne Tome would be the summoner to change their views on the group. She was certainly ambitious, though perhaps not in the way of others.

    ¡°I have heard of her. A pure physical affinity. I¡¯m sure she is capable of incredible things.¡± She pointedly ran her eyes over Lourianne¡¯s body, who bore the attention with a smirk, taking a large bite out of her meat.

    ¡°She¡¯s a talented woman. Like you.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call myself talented. Hard to with a water affinity.¡±

    ¡°Water affinity, huh.¡±

    Orphelia couldn¡¯t stop herself from tensing. Her fake smile died as violent thoughts moved through her mind.

    If Lou noticed, she didn¡¯t react, her tone whimsical as she continued to eat. ¡°Did you know? Succubi can smell affinities. An understandable evolution as they feed on mana. Anyway, the more complex someone¡¯s affinities, the better they smell. My thrall says you smell quite good.¡±

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    She knows.

    Her training said she should execute Lou immediately, regardless of the consequences. She tried to imagine it, gauging the distance between them and the distance of the thrall at her back who no doubt had sensed the change in her intentions. She was good, but it would still take her a second or two from the time her glowing eyes gave her away to release her spell.

    And the spell itself would be weak. She didn¡¯t want to wager her life on the assumption Lou¡¯s changes to herself were simply cosmetic. The melded man she fought against had skin hard enough to deflect a sword.

    ¡°Ooo, scary~¡±

    Confusion halted her thoughts as Lou raised her hands. ¡°I apologize sincerely, Lady Yemen. It is uncouth to pick at a woman¡¯s secrets. Can you forgive me?¡±

    A truce? Perhaps she meant to say, ¡®I know your secret and I plan to use it against you later¡¯. Either way, Orphelia felt relieved. If she did need to assassinate the summoner, she would prefer to have a proper plan in place.

    ¡°Please, call me Orphelia. If you truly feel the need to apologize, I¡¯d accept a few mamaroons.¡±

    Lou smiled wryly. ¡°That was polite bullshit. You¡¯re not supposed to accept. But I said the words and I don¡¯t need all those bodies. Make me an offer.¡±

    ¡°Well, with the promise of a reward from a Guiness daughter, I can¡¯t offer gold. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯d appreciate. Perhaps give me an idea.¡±

    ¡°Really? You have no idea at all?¡±

    It was Orphelia¡¯s turn to endure a wandering gaze, though Lou¡¯s eyes were far more lecherous. Licking the remnants of her meal from her fingers did not help the ambiguous atmosphere.

    Orphelia had the advantage of knowing the requirements for passing the qualifier. The young casters risking their lives in the monster-infested land would be shocked to learn that all they needed to become acolytes of the Hall were five dead mamaroons or one live one, the equivalent of twenty-five points, five for each of them. All the Hall required was a demonstration that they could accomplish a given objective.

    She had hoped to combine their teams but seeing the pile of points at the back of the cave, that hope died. They didn¡¯t need cooperation.

    Her team had a better chance getting their own points with their members healed, but they would be far from full strength. Worse, they had no idea how to go about hunting the things. If Lou or her team didn¡¯t provide enlightenment, and she saw no reason they should, their strategy would amount to ¡®wander around aimlessly and whack any weasel that popped out of the dirt¡¯. Should she take her chances on her team¡¯s ability or go for the sure option?

    Really, the true question was how much did she value her chaste image? She had to pick the least annoying option between taking off her robe for a pervert or enduring the disapproval of her charges¡¯ guardians if they heard their little brats hadn¡¯t passed such a simple test.

    She scoffed. No contest.

    She reached for the belt of her robe but another hand grasped her fingers as they touched the knot. She looked up into Lou¡¯s violet eyes, the smile having left the other woman¡¯s face.

    ¡°You really can¡¯t take a joke, woman.¡± Lou forcefully moved her hand away from her belt and Orphelia inwardly frowned with the realization she could do nothing to stop her. ¡°Normally, I wouldn¡¯t hesitate to take you up on that offer but I¡¯m trying to impress someone with stout morals who will be here any moment. Seducing a desperate woman isn¡¯t going to do me any favors.¡±

    She huffed as she retreated to her blanket. ¡°How many you want?¡±

    ¡°Five.¡± Anything else they managed to obtain would be extra skirts on the dress, so to speak.

    ¡°That¡¯s it? You can just have them.¡±

    ¡°Lady Tome is quite generous.¡±

    ¡°I told you to call me Lou.¡±

    Orphelia admitted feeling a bit of disappointment. Not that she was attracted to Lou. After her father took her to an ¡®underground¡¯ brothel to witness the true depravity of human lust, she had felt no admiration, let alone lust, for anyone, her mind always poisoning any such thoughts with imagined perversions hiding beneath their pleasant veneers.

    No, she regretted not forging the connection. She may not enjoy it but sex was a powerful tool. Lou had aroused her curiosity. She wanted to know more about her, wanted to know the true extent of her abilities. However, there was time enough for that in the future.

    For now, she wasn¡¯t polite and walked past Lou to the pile of monster carcasses. She took five off the left end of the pile and brought them over to the others, dropping them next to Robert who looked much better after the thrall¡¯s healing. She ignored their questioning eyes and went back to Lou. ¡°This shelter will get quite cramped later.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ve got a dog who can sleep outside. Maybe a bear cub that¡¯ll want to bunk with him, though I¡¯d rather she didn¡¯t. Ugh.¡±

    Orphelia allowed herself a moment to be bewildered by the comment before simply accepting it. ¡°Perhaps you would like to share a blanket?¡± She flashed what she hoped was her charming smile. It was quite close to her ¡®quietly threatening¡¯ smile, something that drove her etiquette instructor mad.

    Lou sighed. ¡°Saints, you don¡¯t want to make this easy on me.¡±

    She was about to continue her offensive when a commotion outside the shelter drew her attention. Raised voices that carried a tone of celebration.

    Lou¡¯s team had returned.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-78

    Hearing my team approach, I reluctantly sit up and wrap the blanket I¡¯m lying on around my shoulders. Orphelia watches every movement like a hawk. In fact, everything about her makes me think of a predator. Not the looming dread that is my wife. More of a quiet pair of eyes, watching and waiting for its prey to make a mistake. It¡¯s more disturbing than threatening.

    The surface thoughts Geneva pulled from her cement that impression. Her mind is incredibly focused. From what my succubus tells me, people¡¯s thoughts tend to wander. They can be shopping for ingredients and suddenly their thoughts will turn to the makings of the universe before going to their first love and returning back to the unreasonable prices.

    Orphelia¡¯s mind does not wander. She is always focused on the present, always working to draw information from every observation. Taking those observations and comparing them to others stored in her memory like a scholar comparing historical tomes. Her focus is unnatural and, if I¡¯m being honest, a bit intimidating.

    I can practically see her mind working as my team crowds the entrance of the shelter, staring at my guests. Cloud and Bell don¡¯t bother, my imp scampering over to me while our guide goes for more of the meat.

    ¡°Ah!¡± Arthur is the first to break the silence, his eyes on Robert. ¡°You¡¯re that pansy bastard that wanted a fight before!¡± He cracked his knuckles with a smile. ¡°Or maybe not so pansy. Came to settle things, mudlegs?¡±

    Robert quietly gets to his feet. His hand goes to his waist and he frowns when he finds nothing there. That¡¯s right, he had a sword earlier. Did I make him drop it? Heh, I was trying to be gentle. I forgot how much mass I¡¯m walking around with now. What I thought was a thin tentacle knocked him on his ass and sent him flying.

    ¡°Lou,¡± Alana says in a dry tone, her tone demanding an explanation.

    ¡°This team wandered upon me on their last legs,¡± I say, trying to put a hint of innocence in my tone. ¡°They needed food and healing. I could hardly leave them for the monsters. Besides, they promised a reward for their safety.¡± I hardly need it but why say no to more gold?

    Alana¡¯s eyes move to Orphelia, who smiles at her, then to Cecile, who waves. She scoffs. ¡°Mm. Well, there¡¯s not enough room for everyone.¡±

    ¡°There will be if we share blankets,¡± Orphelia quickly counters. ¡°I¡¯ve already volunteered to sleep with Lou.¡±

    My friend sucks in a quick breath. I know she misunderstood that statement but reason prevails, her glare collapsing before it can fully form.

    ¡°Is there room for a third?¡± Cloud asks with a toothy grin, flashing teeth that are a bit too sharp.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    I clear my throat. ¡°We can make it work.¡±

    ¡°Or we can throw them out to fend for themselves,¡± Marthe says without mercy.

    ¡°How dare you?¡± The boy with the platinum blonde hair and blue eyes jumps to his feet. I barely noticed him before as he quickly settled down with his meal like the others but after a little rest, he seems good as new. ¡°By no means are we lying out in the mud like animals. You should be honored to offer aid to us.¡±

    I see him square his shoulders, preparing to launch into a tirade. Orphelia is ready to intervene but I stop here with a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I whisper. ¡°I have the final say. Sit and enjoy the show.¡±

    She takes a breath of a moment to decide before settling down.

    ¡°You clearly don¡¯t recognize me so allow me to introduce myself. I am Sebas Hoffen, son of Syrius Hoffen and blood of the king.¡±

    Oh, wrong approach. Forget the monsters. Marthe seems ready to kill him herself.

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    ¡°My team will be using this shelter tonight. If you are loyal citizens of the kingdom, it will be your honor to offer aid to the royal family. I will be sure to speak with the instructors on your behalf.¡± He finishes with his head tilted back, looking down on my team with imperious eyes.

    Not a single one of them is impressed.

    ¡°You can sleep outside with Arthur,¡± I say lazily.

    His incredulous ¡°What?¡± is slightly covered by Arthur¡¯s offended ¡°Haaahh?!¡±

    ¡°Orphelia and Cloud with me, Alana and Marthe, William and the brown-haired guy there, and Cecile, you¡¯ll sleep with Bell. Arthur, royal idiot, and Mr. Talented can all sleep outside the entrance. Geo will make sure you stay warm.¡±

    ¡°Why me?¡± Robert asks.

    ¡°Again, did no one around you have manners? Since when do men and women sleep in the same room? As a gentleman, you should have volunteered to sleep outside.¡±

    ¡°Then why is Lanston sleeping inside?¡±

    I look at the brown-haired boy, or Lanston. He¡¯s been quiet as a mouse and jumps to attention at the mention of his name. He flashes me a shy smile, a finger scratching behind his ear. ¡°They hardly count.¡±

    Lanston flushes having his masculinity called into question but wisely doesn¡¯t protest. After all, he¡¯s the one sleeping with a roof over his head. William is the same, shoulders sagging with a deep sigh.

    ¡°I don¡¯t accept!¡± Sebas fumes. ¡°I¡¯m not sleeping out there when there is plenty of room inside.¡± He gestured toward Marthe. ¡°Send the commoner, they¡¯re used to rolling in dirt.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not in charge, shiny,¡± Marthe growls.

    ¡°She¡¯s right. You¡¯re not in charge. I am.¡± I stand, the blanket falling off me. Credit to him for not looking away or flinching. ¡°And I say you sleep out there. You should be kissing each of my toes for offering to protect you despite your horrific manners.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t stand for this. Who do you think you are? I¡ªkuh!¡±

    His words cut off as I dash over to him and grab him by the throat. ¡°A free lesson for you,¡± I whisper, channeling my wife¡¯s ¡®teaching¡¯ tone. ¡°You are a very important man. No doubt threatening people with your family has cowled people stronger than you and it will cowl many more. But in this world, there exists crazy people like me who won¡¯t care about the consequences.

    ¡°The king and all his royal knights are in the capital, faaaar away from us. Much too far to stop me from snapping your neck.¡± I chuckle as his hands claw at me. ¡°Sure, if I hurt you, I might face unimaginable consequences but¡­¡±

    I grab one of his wrists, pulling it off me and casually twisting it. The bone snaps audibly. A strangled scream passes his lips and he kicks at me, the blows entirely useless. ¡°That doesn¡¯t stop me from hurting you.¡± I move down, grasping his pinky between two fingers. His eyes are wide with fear and he tries his best to shake his head. I snap it anyway. His scream comes out as a gurgle, tears leaking from his eyes.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t stop me from killing you.¡± I toss him away and he falls down. His teeth are grit as he cradles his injured hand to his chest, trembling and crying silently.

    ¡°What¡¯s the saying? One man¡¯s trash is another man¡¯s gold. Things are worth different amounts to different people. To majority of the kingdom, you may be a living treasure as a member of the royal family. To me, you aren¡¯t worth a damn thing. You have no leverage. So, when I say you sleep outside, you say ¡®thank you Lady Tome for protecting my sorry ass¡¯ and you sleep outside with a saints damned smile, dumbass!¡±

    The shelter is silent except for his whimpering. I control an urge to roll my eyes. Really, people. I beat a prince senseless. Did you think I would be intimidated by a nephew? He¡¯s not even allowed to use the royal Harvest name. The only thing that remains of my irrational fear of royalty is a lingering resentment. Hmph. If you want me to deal with a shitty attitude, you better at least be a beautiful princess.

    ¡°Bell, heal him. Is there anyone else that has a problem with the sleeping arrangements?¡±

    ¡°¡­you are an animal,¡± Robert says with clear disgust.

    To contrast him, Arthur is wearing a big smile. ¡°Aye, captain! No complaints from me.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± I casually walk back to my blanket, throwing it around my shoulders. ¡°How¡¯d your hunt go?¡±

    ¡°We found a den and managed to get a couple.¡± Alana raises seven mamaroons by their tails. ¡°They started running. Things can practically swim through the earth.¡±

    ¡°No problem. You¡¯ve completed the bare minimum.¡± Geneva plucked a thought from Orphelia¡¯s mind that a team only needs twenty-five points to pass. It begs the question how she knows exactly what the instructors are looking for, which contributes to my opinion that she is nowhere near as simple as she wants me to believe. ¡°There¡¯s always tomorrow if you want to give it another shot.¡±

    ¡°¡­no. We¡¯ve demonstrated that we can accomplish the objective on our own. There is a difference between proving our ability and running ourselves ragged.¡±

    Alana steps past me to drop her kills next to my pile. Then she settles onto a blanket, removing her sword and taking off her armor. The others follow suit, making themselves comfortable and grabbing more meat. A few conversations are struck up, the atmosphere becoming warm as new friendships are formed and old ones are deepened. Meanwhile, Robert and Sebas are wearing tight expressions as a malicious Arthur hovers beside them near the entrance.

    Night falls on the first day of the test.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-79

    Habit caused Robert to wake early. He groggily sat up, body aching from the hard ground. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to force away the dirt and crud around them, as his brain slowly started up. Memories of the previous day came back to him and he frowned.

    He was up due to a habit of practicing first thing in the morning but without his sword, there was no point. However, he also didn¡¯t want to lie back down. Arthur had hogged the one blanket between the three of them, stealing the small bit of comfort they¡¯d been offered. Pure exhaustion allowed him to fall asleep. He didn¡¯t want to experience the bed of earth with a clear mind.

    As he debated what to do, movement at the entrance of the shelter caught his attention. Alana James emerged from the gloom, her shoulder length blonde hair catching his attention like a light in the night. Quietly, she moved several meters away from the shelter. Far enough that her actions wouldn¡¯t disturb others but close enough that should anything happen, help could reach her quickly. A decision that showed both courtesy and caution.

    With nothing else to occupy his attention, he watched her as she stretched in the weak pre-dawn light, unsheathed her blade, and began swinging it. Warm nostalgia made him smile as he saw her perfect form performing simple chops. Before he knew it, he had climbed to his feet and was approaching her.

    Her focus didn¡¯t waver in the slightest. ¡°Good morning,¡± she greeted without looking toward him.

    ¡°Good morning, Lady James.¡±

    ¡°Alana.¡±

    ¡°Then you must call me Quin.¡± He had to consider the future when he would be a name recognized in every household. The honorable knight Quin sounded far better than the honorable knight Robert, or worse, Bobby. He would make the world recognize the nickname he chose for himself, even if it was one person at a time.

    They lapsed into silence. Words weren¡¯t needed, both accustomed to the early practices where the morning was only disturbed by the controlled breathing that accompanied exercise.

    After a hundred swings, Alana pointed the tip of her sword at the ground and extended it to Robert. He took it with a nod and a quiet smile. He took a similar stance to her own and began his own chops.

    ¡°You have good form.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. I use a similar blade. A bit longer.¡± And heavier, but he left that unsaid. He hadn¡¯t met many female knights-in-training, but the ones he had took great exception to having their strength brought into question. He truly meant no offense. Being taller than her and the fact that men were predisposed to greater strength naturally meant he should wield a larger weapon.

    ¡°Where is it?¡±

    He hesitated and it showed in his swing. His face flushed in embarrassment at the mistake and he started swinging faster, hoping the show of strength would make her forget his lapse in focus. ¡°We encountered a strange monster. I lost my blade in the ensuing fight.¡±

    ¡°My condolences.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± He felt her sympathy was real. After all, losing their blade was one of a knight¡¯s worse fears.

    ¡°What kind of monster was it? And where did you see it?¡±

    He understood her concerns immediately. ¡°I don¡¯t know the exact location but it was hours from here. I wouldn¡¯t be concerned about it stumbling onto your shelter. As for the monster, according to Lanston, it closely resembles a slime.¡±

    ¡°A slime?¡±

    ¡°I hadn¡¯t heard of it either. Apparently, it is a plant that can manipulate water. It lurks in water sources and drowns prey. When moving over land it appears as a rolling ball of water though what we saw was more, hm. If I said to say, gel-like.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°Its coloring was also strange. It was as if a piece of the night sky had fallen to the ground and gained sentience.¡± He controlled his reaction as he remembered the twilight blob with stars dotted along its body bobbing back and forth. He didn¡¯t realize he had stopped swinging until she said, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re tired. You¡¯ve got forty-five swings to go.¡±

    ¡°Not tired in the least.¡± He had to admit, the thrall¡¯s healing was impeccable. ¡°The creature attacks by throwing out its appendages which can grow in length and are deceptively strong. It¡­eats by swallowing its prey whole.¡±

    ¡°¡­who did you lose?¡±

    His lips twitched. Her voice contained sympathy but it was hard, telling him to put aside his guilt, regret, and sadness to deliver the crucial information. It reminded him of his teacher. ¡°My mount, Thorgood. I tried to save him. The creature proved incredibly resistant, if not completely immune, to magic. A physical assault led to me being injured and losing my blade.¡±

    He finished his swings and passed her sword to her. She motioned him back and began horizontal swings. ¡°Why did you engage an unknown manabeast?¡±

    He sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve been asking myself the same question. It goes against everything my teacher taught me. The thing looked so unthreatening. I¡­was too confident, believing that even if it proved beyond my ability, my team could escape to safety. I¡¯m embarrassed to say I relied too much on my mount¡­my friend. My poor decisions cost him his life.¡± His stomach knotted when he thought of his teacher¡¯s reaction to the news.

    ¡°Such is the life we¡¯ve chosen for ourselves,¡± she said in a somber tone. ¡°We put our lives on the line for our families, for our orders, and for our kingdom, but ultimately, for ourselves. My father told me, a good leader learns to be selfish. At the time, I thought he was simply trying to justify himself, but the more I experience, the more I agree. To become strong, you have to be selfish. Being selfish means someone else is going to suffer for your decisions. The only thing you can do is make sure your progress validates their sacrifice.¡±

    She paused, turning to face him. There wasn¡¯t a hint of deception in her clear blue eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Robert nodded solemnly, feeling a tightness in his throat and a twinge in his chest.

    The silence returned as she resumed her swings. Robert¡¯s thoughts returned to his encounter with the strange slime. It really hadn¡¯t appeared as a threat but if he was honest with himself, it wasn¡¯t his analysis of the creature that led to his hasty action but his greed. It was simply too much to ask him to pass up a pile of¡ª

    Robert tensed. In his mind, he saw the pile of mamaroons beside the bobbing slime. Then he pictured the pile at the back of the shelter. If he had to guess, he¡¯d say they were the same size.

    What were the chances that there existed two dens of that size in their general area? And that a team had managed to accumulate the same amount of bodies as the mountain he saw?

    ¡°Here.¡±

    He snapped out of his thoughts and took the offered blade. ¡°Your team did well,¡± he stated carefully. ¡°How did you manage to kill so many mamaroons?¡±

    She snorted softly. A normally unappealing sound but Robert liked the way it softened her stern expression. ¡°You¡¯d have to ask Lou. We split up to find dens. A few hours later, she called us over to collect a pile of the damn things. Saints know how she did it with a fire affinity but she has her methods.¡±

    His suspicions grew, along with his dislike of Lourianne Tome. He formed a theory that the slime creature assaulted the den for a meal. Robert and his team happened upon it and the creature devoured his mount. Full, it had no need for its previous prey and left the mountain of corpses. Then, Lourianne Tome must have wandered upon it and called her team to collect her lucky find.

    The thought of that woman profiting off his friend¡¯s death filled him with anger.

    ¡°Stop.¡±

    Robert paused mid-swing, dropping the point of the sword as Alana came closer. She motioned for the sword and he passed it to her. ¡°You look ready to smash something and I rather it not be my blade.¡±

    She sheathed the weapon and stared at him. After several moments of silence, she sighed. ¡°Are you going to tell me what¡¯s wrong or should I get a few rocks you can pound together to work it out?¡±

    A smile broke through his tumultuous mood. He could hardly accuse her teammate of dishonest conduct. It wasn¡¯t Lourianne¡¯s fault he had made her qualifier easy. ¡°If I¡¯m being honest, I¡¯m a little sour from being made to sleep on the ground like an unfavored pet.¡±

    Alana chuckled. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Your friend is difficult to get along with.¡±

    ¡°For you, definitely.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Didn¡¯t I say it? Leaders are selfish. Neither of you are the type to compromise, which means you¡¯re going smash heads until one of you breaks.¡± He saw her hesitate before she continued. ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but you should back down. You¡¯re the one who¡¯s going to break.¡±

    Robert scowled. He couldn¡¯t believe he was less talented than a pervert who laid in the open without a stitch of clothing. ¡°What kind of a knight backs down from a challenge?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t that attitude already get you in trouble?¡±

    He flinched, pursing his lips with frustration.

    ¡°Saints. I apologize. I didn¡¯t mean to sound harsh. Just¡­I¡¯m saying this for your sake. You¡¯ve got the talent, you¡¯ve got the backing, and you¡¯ve got the drive. You and she are on two completely different paths. After this test, I¡¯d be surprised if she remembers your name. Don¡¯t make your life more complicated than need be.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t explain why her doubt in his ability irritated him the way it did. ¡°I will keep it in mind.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± She turned her head to the quickly rising sun. ¡°Ah, forget it. I¡¯ve earned an easy day. See you inside for breakfast, Quin.¡±

    She waved over her shoulder as she walked toward the cave. Robert watched her disappear inside before making his way back toward the patch of dirt where he¡¯d fallen asleep, wanting a moment to think before he faced her and Lourianne Tome.

    Arthur and Sebas had woken up and both stared at him as he sat down. ¡°What?¡± he asked them, unnerved by the attention.

    ¡°I was kidding about you having a crush on her but maybe there was truth there?¡±

    Robert considered Sebas a friend, despite his insistent need to compete, but he knew better than anyone how petty he could be. The last thing he wanted was to be the reason Alana got dragged into his games. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re thinking is wrong. I admire her as a fellow¡ª¡±

    A blanket falling over his head cut him off. He pulled it off to glare at a laughing Arthur.

    ¡°Stupid virgin!¡± the chuckling man spit out, clapping him on the shoulder as he got to his feet. ¡°Let me explain something your daddy should have told you. Unless she¡¯s got a face like the ass end of a cow, a man only has one type of admiring for a woman that ain¡¯t his blood. You want to put a leg over that but I¡¯m telling you, those are shark-infested waters. Swim away boy! Bwahahaha!¡±

    ¡°You are vulgar.¡± Robert was thoroughly disgusted with his words. Watching Arthur pick his nose, he thought this was the kind of character he expected to find around that pervert, not someone like Alana. Though he loathed engaging with the other man, a part of him couldn¡¯t help his curiosity.

    ¡°I object to your description of her as ¡®shark-infested waters¡¯. Alana is a perfectly lovely young woman.¡± As someone who wanted to rise to the top of the kingdom, he didn¡¯t have the luxury of casual romance but if he did want to be with someone, a woman like Alana, both strong and caring, would be¡­nice.

    ¡°Not her, mud for brains. Lou¡¯s the shark. That¡¯s her woman.¡±

    Robert frowned in confusion. ¡°Her woman? What¡­¡±

    ¡°I keep telling you to pay attention to gossip,¡± Sebas said. ¡°It¡¯s not all malicious rumors. Lady Tome is married to a woman. She lusts for women like a man lusts for them. The oversized oaf who snores like a roaring bear is trying to tell you that the woman you ¡®admire¡¯ is that pervert¡¯s mistress.¡±

    Robert flinched. His mind didn¡¯t want to imagine it. ¡°No.¡± He looked up at Arthur who wore an evil smile. ¡°You must be misunderstanding.¡±

    ¡°I understand more than a boy who thinks his aching dick is a knife he dropped down his pants, heh. Lou might not have pulled down her pants but the shark is circling. Blondie¡¯s a tough nut. Not like our guide. By the deep, that woman is like a bitch in heat. Thought I had that.¡± He sighed. ¡°Ah, well. It¡¯s rough for a ship monkey when the captain¡¯s on board.¡±

    ¡°¡­what does that mean?¡± Robert really didn¡¯t want to hear anymore but he couldn¡¯t make sense of the words on his own.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t it obvious? I thought I would have her bent over and howling like a dog but she leaves me to climb into Lou¡¯s bed.¡± He clicked his tongue. ¡°It sucks but that¡¯s how it is between captains and their crew. Captains get all the women, all the gold, all the treasure, and all the glory. Ship monkeys like you and me? We get what the captain gives us.¡±

    The words made Robert feel like he had been dunked in grease, dirty and slimy. Even Sebas, who had no stake in the conversation, was disgusted. ¡°Are you saying she owns her?¡±

    ¡°Like I know what they¡¯ve got going on. That¡¯s between them. I¡¯m saying keep your noses out of it lest you want to be thrown overboard. Lou is strong, which you should know.¡±

    Sebas cradled his hand, frowning. ¡°She will pay for that disrespect.¡±

    ¡°Heh. Good luck with that. Let me tell you boys something. I grew up around killers. Lou¡¯s got that look. You¡¯re lucky she wasn¡¯t born in Graywatch. She¡¯s still got a bit of restraint left but I wouldn¡¯t push it, haha!¡±

    ¡°Why are you so concerned?¡± Robert questioned. ¡°I won¡¯t believe you care about what happens to us.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I care. Got to recruit more monkeys.¡± He stroked his beard which was getting unruly after a few days since he was made to cut it. ¡°I¡¯m thinking I throw my lot in with Lou while I¡¯m here. Long as you know your place, it¡¯s a pretty good ship. Grub is good and she¡¯s not the type to get jumpy when I get rough. Easiest way to make sure you don¡¯t get swallowed by the sea is to sail a sturdy ship. But I don¡¯t want to be the monkey on the lowest rung of the ladder. Which is where you two come in.¡±

    Sebas moved away from him. ¡°Are you mad?¡± he snapped. ¡°I am not going to become that woman¡¯s lackey!¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± Arthur¡¯s eyes moved to Robert.

    ¡°As he said.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Idiots. Ah, don¡¯t forget you owe me a fight.¡± He raised a threatening finger at Robert. ¡°A seaman never forgets his debts.¡±

    He walked off after the ominous warning, heading into the shelter.

    Sebas shook his head. ¡°All of these people are insane.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-80

    I wake up with a hand between my legs.

    Not an uncommon way to wake up but it only takes a moment for me to realize that I¡¯m not at home and the hand doesn¡¯t belong to my wife. I inhale deeply, confirming that Cloud is behind me but the naughty limb doesn¡¯t belong to her.

    The guilty party is Orphelia, the strange girl I met just yesterday. Staring at me with those uncomfortably observant eyes and a smile with no warmth.

    ¡°Good morning, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Morning¡­is there a reason you¡¯re molesting me?¡±

    ¡°My, I thought you were inviting me, pressing against me so aggressively.¡± Her hand pushes further and touches my ¡®gift¡¯, which is not fully erect but swollen enough to show a noticeable bulge. ¡°I have to say, I¡¯m not often surprised but this is quite novel. Was this decision based on your sexual proclivities or to consummate your marriage with the elf?¡±

    This woman, casually making conversation while stroking me. I unconsciously move my hips as I speak through grit teeth. ¡°It¡¯s none of your business.¡±

    ¡°But what if I want to make it my business?¡±

    I twitch as her fingers squeeze. This situation must be someone¡¯s dream come true but I can¡¯t enjoy it without concern. Never mind the audience around us. Orphelia confuses me. I don¡¯t understand her fascination. It¡¯s not attraction. She has her hand between my legs and I don¡¯t smell a bit of excitement from her. Her hooded eyes and seductive tone are all an act and I can¡¯t find the motive behind it. Don¡¯t tell me a pile of weasels is the reason behind this?

    ¡°You wound me, honored sister.¡±

    Cloud speaks in a raspy voice thick with sleep, her hot breath brushing my neck as she leans over me. Her arm goes over my chest, unabashedly grabbing my breast. I bite down on my lower lip to muffle a moan as her sharp teeth graze the back of my neck. ¡°Starting without me.¡±

    My thoughts move to Alana. She¡¯s already concerned that I¡¯m a lustful beast. Sleeping with two women, one who she has a strained relationship with and the other a stranger, is unquestionably going to reinforce that idea.

    But, the truth is, I am a lustful beast. Saints, I¡¯m already married, I¡¯ve got two elementals known for seducing their summoners, and another woman besides her I¡¯m actively courting. If she doesn¡¯t know the kind of woman I am by now, she has to be blind and deaf. Plus, I¡¯ve already slept with someone else in front of her, though she claims she was too drunk to remember.

    Maybe this is exactly what needs to happen. I will find a way to show her my commitment, while different from the norm, is real. In the meantime, a bit of temptation, a show of some of the ¡®benefits¡¯, may do a lot to sway her mind.

    That, and there¡¯s no way I can walk away at this point.

    My hand cups Orphelia¡¯s face as I lean forward, bringing our lips together. My hips move faster as I push my tongue past her lips. She returns the kiss but there is no passion behind it at all. All her movements feel mechanical and her breath stays even. Something that slowly changes. I can smell her body reacting to my bodily fluids through our exchange of saliva and the sweat on my skin.

    She notices too, jerking away from our kiss. Her blush is a little hard to see against her bronze skin but I can feel the heat in her cheeks. ¡°What did you do?¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything,¡± I whisper. Oh~ I think I¡¯ve flustered her. ¡°You started this.¡±

    ¡°Drugs? No, you couldn¡¯t have hidden them. The physical affinity? No, her eyes never glowed.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking out loud.¡± My other hand brushes over her thigh before grabbing her ass and pulling her closer. ¡°No need to overthink. I¡¯m happy to tell you.¡± I purposely secrete an aphrodisiac through my fingers, which is far more potent than my saliva, as I grab her chin. ¡°It¡¯s me. Every single piece of me is designed to feed my appetites. Let me show you~¡±

    I kiss her again and it¡¯s very different. Her controlled expression melts as her lips tremble. Her confidence collapses, her hand pawing at my chest weakly. She moans and her body twitches, flinching from the loss of control. Her heart pounds in her chest and I can tell part of the reason is her mounting anxiety.

    Didn¡¯t expect this, did you? I may not be able to read you as well as I¡¯d like but anyone can see she values control, both in herself and over others. She thought she could use sex to control our relationship, whatever she thinks that is or is going to be. She¡¯s bitten off a little more than she can chew this time, heh.

    As her body heats up, her hand loses strength, slipping from between my thighs. She retreats and I advance, rolling her onto her back and climbing on top of her. My hands deftly undue the belt of her robe as I deepen our kiss, swallowing her confused moans.

    ¡°Huh? What are they¡­oh, saints!¡± I hear Cecile exclaim as my hands wander. Something falls to the ground, likely her breakfast as the people up and about were congregated near the food pile. Her shout draws attention to us, further exclamations following.

    Orphelia¡¯s heart skips a beat but that¡¯s it. Her arms wrap around my neck as she pulls me closer. Seems her apprehension has turned to interest. Hm. From the beginning, she hasn¡¯t let circumstances get the best of her for long. Admirable, I admit.

    ¡°¡­don¡¯t they know we¡¯re here?¡± William¡¯s shy voice asks. I¡¯d bet a hundred gold crowns that he¡¯s watching with rapt attention.

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Marthe says with a scoff as she stomps out of the shelter.

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be watching this,¡± says a voice I don¡¯t recognize. Has to be that Lanston fellow. His words are polite but I don¡¯t hear him leave, heh.

    ¡°Watching what?¡± Arthur¡¯s unmistakable bellow calls as he stomps into the shelter. I hear his sharp intake of breath as he spots us. Then he guffaws. ¡°By the deep! She¡¯s got more gray in her than I thought!¡± Then the disgusting bastard starts undoing the ties of his pants.

    I pull away from the kiss, noting with some amusement that Orphelia unconsciously raises her head to chase after me. ¡°Throw the seadog out,¡± I say as I slip under the blanket, pushing open Orphelia¡¯s legs.

    ¡°As you wish, my summoner~¡±

    ¡°Ah, wait, wait! Fuck!¡± There¡¯s a brief scuffle as Geneva throws him out of the shelter. ¡°Dammit! I¡¯m starving!¡±

    Throw the thing some meat so it keeps quiet.

    He curses as several pieces of meat hit him in the face, something I know as Geneva communicates her intentions.

    ¡°Hey, why are you staring?¡± Cecile yells at someone.

    ¡°If they¡¯re going to do it out in the open, they can hardly complain about being observed,¡± Sebas¡¯ haughty voice answers. I have half a mind to toss him out as well but I decide against it. This is another good way to make him feel inadequate.

    ¡°¡­I didn¡¯t take Orphelia to be that type of woman,¡± Mr. Four Affinities criticizes.

    ¡°And what type of woman is that?¡± Alana, ever the defender, quickly jumps to her rescue.

    ¡°Ah. I meant¡­it¡¯s just not proper¡­¡± He trails off. I can imagine the look she¡¯s giving him. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t approve?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. This is their shelter too. If they want to be degenerates inside of it, none of us have the right to say they can¡¯t.¡± She sighs. ¡°Is what I want to say but the truth is I don¡¯t see any of us stopping this. Just go outside if it bothers you.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re not going?¡±

    ¡°Why should I? The blankets are in here. I¡¯m going back to sleep.¡±

    I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll be able to sleep with what¡¯s about to happen but she makes a valiant effort, wrapping herself in the blanket she shared with Marthe.

    Apparently, Cloud is eager for her turn as her hand reaches down, twisting in my hair and stopping my teasing to shove my nose against Orphelia¡¯s wet lips.

    ¡°Fuck, the guide too?¡± Sebas says. ¡°What the hell do they see in that lunatic?¡±

    ¡°I imagine we are about to find out,¡± William mutters under his breath.

    Orphelia sucks in a sharp breath as I drag my tongue along her lower lips, her shaking hands grabbing my shoulders. I like hearing her tightly controlled fa?ade slowly melt but with Cloud¡¯s hand urging me and her heavy panting showing her own need, this is going to be quick and brutal. I shove of my tongue inside her and eat her out furiously.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-81

    Her whorish moans echo throughout the shelter but I can hear our audience making conversation.

    ¡°W-what is she doing to her?¡± Lanston questions. His heart is fluttering like a bird taking flight.

    Sebas scoffs but it lacks his usual scorn. ¡°If you ever left your room, you¡¯d know.¡±

    ¡°Do you know?¡±

    The royal idiot is quiet for a moment. ¡°Of course I know. She¡¯s using her fingers down there. That¡¯s how women please each other because they don¡¯t have a man¡¯s tool.¡±

    ¡°Then why is her head moving?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    Arthur laughs from outside the shelter. ¡°Sounds like captain¡¯s slopping up a wet clam, bwahahaha!¡±

    ¡°Her tongue?¡± Cecile says softly, almost muttering to herself.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that, ah, unsanitary?¡± Robert asks cautiously.

    ¡°Haha, do you think you can fuck clean, idiot? Of course they¡¯re getting dirty! That¡¯s part of the fun!¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    Mr. Talented is cut off as Orphelia climaxes, moaning long and low as her body arcs toward me. Her walls clamp around my tongue like a vice but I¡¯m strong enough to continue snaking inside her, drawing out every moment of pleasure until she collapses like a limp noodle.

    I crouch over her, letting my tongue loll from my mouth. Her eyes, heavily lidded as she basks in the afterglow, widen a little as she sees it drop past my chin, no doubt remembering what it felt like inside of her. But the show isn¡¯t just for her.

    ¡°Saints, is that even a human¡¯s tongue?¡± Sebas curses. ¡°How does all that fit in her mouth?!¡±

    ¡°How did all that fit in her?¡± Cecile mutters. Oi, do you even realize you¡¯re talking out loud?

    From the corner of my eye, I see William open his mouth and probe his own tongue with two fingers, sticking it out to compare length with mine.

    An animalistic growl draws my attention a moment before Cloud lunges at me, tossing aside the blanket. She must have stripped while I was absorbed with Orphelia. Her modest chest bounces enticingly as I let her wrestle me onto my back. This girl has no subtly, climbing up my body and putting her knees on either side of my face. She drops her pussy over my mouth without so much as a kiss hello.

    ¡°Eat,¡± she growls, already humping my face. I huff underneath her but oblige, going to work. She hisses as I push inside her and rides my tongue as I lick at her walls and twist my tongue in ways only I can. Her hands slap the ground as she braces herself and she thrusts her hips harder, panting like she¡¯s sprinting under a hot sun.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Guess they¡¯re all out of commentary. Cloud isn¡¯t the only one breathing hard and hearts are pounding as she whines in pleasure. Her thrusting grows erratic as her pussy twitches around me, telling me she¡¯s close. I grab her waist, holding her in place as I redouble my effort. Stretching my tongue as far as I can, I bend it, forming an arc with the muscle that rubs against her clit each time I move.

    The exact opposite of Orphelia, Cloud tilts her head back and howls as she peaks. Her cum sprays over the lower half of my face and I lap it up. Mm. Never get tired of this.

    She certainly has a monster¡¯s stamina. Her hips never stop moving and I follow her pace, chasing her to a second orgasm. Then a third.

    Finally slows down after the fourth. She slides down my body, shoving my nose between her boobs as a low rumble comes from her chest. I chuckle. Didn¡¯t take her for the type to cuddle. And is she purring?

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    It takes effort to pull myself away. Cloud whines like a sad puppy. Licks the side of my face like one too. I shush her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re not done yet.¡±

    It only takes a bit of urging for her to understand what I want and she quickly gets on her hands and knees in front of me. My ¡®gift¡¯ has been erect for a while now, aching to be used. Seeing her hand open her lower lips and her thighs dripping with her juices, it twitches in excitement.

    ¡°I thought I was fucking imagining things,¡± Sebas grinds out. ¡°This woman is a saints damned pervert. Fuck! I¡¯m not watching this.¡± He stomps out of the shelter.

    ¡°How¡­¡± Robert¡¯s voice is full of confusion. ¡°What¡­but¡­¡±

    William sighs heavily. ¡°She¡¯s bigger than me there too,¡± he mutters.

    Cecile doesn¡¯t comment and I think it¡¯s because she can¡¯t catch her breath. She sounds very¡­breathy. I don¡¯t have to look over to know she¡¯s staring with the intensity of a thief admiring the jewels in the king¡¯s crown.

    ¡°Wait? What¡¯s happening?¡± Arthur asks.

    ¡°That crazy woman has a fucking cock,¡± Sebas sneers.

    ¡°Ah? What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°You heard me, you oaf. She¡¯s has a cock. A dick. A tool. A third leg. A sword sheathed between her legs.¡±

    ¡°Sharks on sand. She¡¯s crazier than I thought.¡±

    ¡°At least it makes sense why that guide left you. She isn¡¯t missing out on anything. Saints, I feel nauseous.¡±

    ¡°Not missing out, eh? Which one of us is bigger?¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ªput that fucking thing away, you saints damned pervert!¡±

    ¡°Just look at it and tell me!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not about to compare two dicks!¡±

    ¡°Come on! Don¡¯t you understand? This is about a man¡¯s pride!¡±

    I chuckle at the idiots outside and put them out of my mind as I focus on Cloud. I know she likes to get right to it but she¡¯s not as energetic now. She can do nothing but whine as I slide my gift between her thighs, teasing her.

    On her back, following the arc of her spine, is a line of short dark¡­fur? I run my fingers through it. Wow, that¡¯s soft. More than that, I like the way she shudders. I think back to that hulking beast she wrestled on the day I first met her. Hopefully, she doesn¡¯t try to be too much like that behemoth but imaging her with its furry ears, tasteful additions of its fur, and a wagging tail¡­

    That¡¯s not bad.

    ¡°Good dog,¡± I say as I stroke her back and continue teasing her with my ¡®gift¡¯. ¡°Only good puppies get a bone. Do you want to be a good puppy?¡±

    She groans, looking over her shoulder with a soft gaze. She whines deep in her throat, sounding pitiful. My cock twitches. ¡°Bark, puppy.¡±

    I chuckle as she actually does it. If I wasn¡¯t looking at her, there¡¯s no way I could tell it came from a person¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Beg.¡±

    The whining increasing in volume before she says, ¡°Please~¡±. Saints, that tone can rival Geneva¡¯s begging.

    ¡°Good puppies get a treat.¡±

    I lean over her ass as I line my ¡®gift¡¯ up to her entrance. Hearing a shaky exhale, my gaze jumps up, finding a pair of blue eyes watching me from beneath a blanket. It takes incredible effort to control my expression as I hear the shifting of cloth as Alana pushes a hand down her pants. Her blanket moves the tiniest fraction as her fingers move.

    I tear my gaze away, not wanting to give her away, but my heart is pounding in my chest. The others¡¯ eyes on me didn¡¯t do anything but knowing the woman I¡¯m pursuing is watching me fuck another woman has my face flushed with excitement. I thrust forward with more strength than I intended, burying myself to the base.

    I expected her to howl but Cloud is quiet. My hand grabs her hair, turning her head so I can see her face. Her mouth is dropped open and her eyes are wide, a wet film over them. The softest whimpers escape her as she stares at me with¡­something I can¡¯t quite recognize. It¡¯s close to admiration but it¡¯s hard to tell with her features going slack.

    Snorting in amusement, I drop her head and my hand grasps the back of her neck. My other hand grabs her waist as I slowly pull back, smiling evilly as I watch her legs shake, before thrusting back into her. Again and again, picking up my pace until I¡¯m railing into her.

    The shelter is dead silent besides us, her panting whines and my moans barely louder than the sound of our waists slapping together. I fuck her through her first climax. She loses strength after mine, upper body dropping toward the ground as she buries her face in her arms. After her third orgasm, I have to wrap my arms over her waist to hold her up.

    [I think that¡¯s enough, my summoner, lest you want your new pet to expire.]

    Geneva¡¯s voice pulls me out of the haze of sex. Cloud is a mewling mess beneath me. I exhale, controlling my lust as I pull out of her. The sound of my cum splattering to the ground shakes my restraint but I hold back with several deep breaths, standing up and taking a large step away from her. Mm, we made a bit of a mess. I burn the image of Cloud lying in a small puddle of my cum into my mind. I have a sudden urge to take up painting so I can remember this moment forever.

    ¡°How is she still hard?¡± William mutters. At this point, he sounds completely defeated. Not the man I intended to do mental damage to but every battle has its casualties. The others remain silent but I can feel several gazes on my body. Including a pair of clear blue eyes.

    I smirk at the horny future saint before reaching for Cloud, slipping one arm under her legs and the other around her back. Her head lolls against my shoulder where she weakly licks me. She really is like an affectionate dog.

    ¡°If anyone needs us, we¡¯ll be at the waterhole,¡± I announce as I leave the shelter. The others hug the walls as I pass.

    When I step outside, Arthur and Sebas look toward me. The royal idiot looks away quickly but Arthur¡¯s eyes go to my waist. Similarly, I take a quick glance at his own tool. Bastard was getting off listening to us, wasn¡¯t he? Ugh. At least it was out of my sight.

    More importantly, I win.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he curses but he¡¯s wearing a smile. ¡°Heh. You definitely deserve to be the captain.¡±

    ¡°And don¡¯t forget it.¡±

    He laughs uproariously as I walk off. Time for a bath.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-82

    Orphelia watched Lou until the summoner broke into a run and became a brown blur. She added ¡®fast¡¯ to her mental file on the woman. She had a feeling that it would grow extensively.

    Lourianne Tome was an existence like no other. Forget the pinnacle of the human body. She had thrown away being human entirely. Every inch of flesh was sculpted to go beyond anything anyone had ever imagined.

    And that tongue.

    She shivered just thinking about it. If every other part of her was as engineered as that glorious muscle, Lourianne Tome was a miracle.

    Orphelia didn¡¯t think she was attracted to the other woman, not in the way others might be. She felt nothing seeing her tight ass as she walked off or any other part of her body. However, Lou¡¯s domineering physique didn¡¯t care about her lack of libido. It demanded her arousal. Orphelia had never felt her heart pound and her body flush with heat as she dripped excitement. The experience was¡­novel.

    As a hidden asset, her father had no intention of marrying her off. There was no need to cherish her chastity and sexual advances were a good way to lower a target¡¯s guard. She was no stranger to getting physical but she never enjoyed it. Part of her training involved learning to fake it.

    There was nothing faked about her performance earlier. Lou¡¯s body set hers aflame and she couldn¡¯t fight the pleasure if she wanted to. And when she reached that peak for the first time, her mind went white. Her constant thoughts¡­stopped.

    It was pure bliss.

    Then, when it was over, her body relaxed as a warm glow threatened to lull her to sleep. She might have heeded its call but Lou¡¯s tryst with the guide drew her attention.

    She originally thought Lou¡¯s ¡®addition¡¯ was the equivalent of a toy crafted from flesh for two very good reasons. The first being the difference in anatomy. The only thing Lou¡¯s tool shared with a man¡¯s was the phallic shape and she didn¡¯t have testicles, so how could she produce a man¡¯s seed?

    Second was the sheer difficulty of crafting a fully functional tool from an original design. Organic construction, the discipline of using magic to alter living things or organic material, was widely considered the most complicated branch of magic, only rivaled by the study of space by null casters.

    The more accurately expressed a spell was, the less mana it took, but the smallest changes could take hundreds of variables. That meant most physical mages who specialized in the field never had enough power to do more than grow out their hair. Worse, the slightest mistake in the spell could have catastrophic consequences. The example her father used was the case of the willow bloom.

    Those seeking to master organic construction often practiced their art on flowers, something small, well understood, and plentiful. Once, a master physical caster watched over his apprentice as he attempted to change the scent of the willow bloom. The apprentice thought he failed when the flower¡¯s scent disappeared, as learned from his journal.

    In truth, the flower had been altered to release a scentless toxin that filled their home and killed the two casters in their sleep, along with the servants. It also claimed the life of another apprentice who came to check on them and would have claimed the lives of many more had another master not arrived in time.

    If changing a flower was hard, changing a person was close to impossible. Masters trained decades to be able to accomplish it and they could only do the most basic of changes, merely improving on the body¡¯s natural form. It was why melders were so highly prized.

    The underground brothel her father took her to ¡®employed¡¯ a woman with a distended clitoris, altered to resemble as a man¡¯s tool. She was a treasure of the brothel and it was rumored that the work was done by a melder employed by the royal knights, the best of the best.

    She didn¡¯t come close to the living marvel named Lourianne Tome.

    Orphelia¡¯s limited experience with the woman told her that when making assumptions about the summoner, she should lean toward the extreme. Without evidence either way, she assumed that Lou¡¯s ejaculate was fertile. Something that completely changed her existence in the eyes of the crown.

    If her assumption proved correct, that turned Lourianne Tome from an eccentric woman that could mostly be ignored due to her stance of not wanting to involve herself with the kingdom¡¯s diplomatic efforts into a potentially powerful sire of a new branch of her family. If she had a child with Kierra Atainna, said offspring could be a potential heir to an elven queendom.

    If the elves accepted a hybrid. From the intelligence gathered by her father¡¯s assets in the Hall, the marriage seemed to be blessed by the Atainna family but one never knew how a group would respond when the right to rule was on the line.

    She almost hoped that they would reject such a child. Inheritance battles could get ugly. The more power on the line, the more brutal the players became to obtain it. The last thing the kingdom would want was to be involved.

    If they sided with the elven candidates, should Lou and her wife emerge victorious, there would be a war between races. If they sided with Lou, there would be a war between races but if Harvest won, they¡¯d have a powerful new ally.

    Assuming Lou didn¡¯t betray them.

    She could dream up hypotheticals all day, all of them worrisome. Orphelia chuckled. She thought she was wasting her time babysitting ignorant fools and the assignment led her to the most important political interest in the kingdom, sleeping under everyone¡¯s, including her father¡¯s, nose.

    She wondered if Lou knew how much sensitive information she¡¯d given away with her little show. From her connection to a melder of truly ridiculous skill, Orphelia couldn¡¯t conclusively state her wife had done the work, to her ability to sire an heir to a throne, or her capabilities as a fighter and lover. All of which would have her targeted by powerful groups. Saints, the brothels would kidnap her for her bodily fluids alone and whores were not to be underestimated.

    ¡°What are you laughing at?¡±

    Orphelia turned her gaze to Sebas. Her charge was standing close to the food pile, chewing on a piece of lukewarm meat. He scowled. ¡°Close your robe, degenerate. Rest assured, my father will be hearing about your behavior.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Having long forsaken her modesty, she¡¯d taken no notice as she lay exposed. The fact that none of the inhabitants of the shelter could look directly at her should have caught her attention but her thoughts were full of a certain summoner.

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    ¡°Pardon,¡± she said while tying the robe¡¯s belt. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to offend your delicate sensibilities.¡±

    ¡°Who are you calling delicate? Cheh. Just speaking with you disgusts me. Luckily, I won¡¯t have to do so for much longer.¡±

    ¡°If only I were so lucky.¡±

    ¡°What?! You dare¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, I dare.¡± Orphelia got to her feet and stretched. ¡°I would like my team to gather outside. There is another day left in our test and I would like to discuss strategy.¡±

    The others looked up, drawn into the conversation. Slowly, their gazes moved to Robert and he nodded. ¡°She¡¯s right. Don¡¯t get too comfortable, there¡¯s more work to be done.¡± He took the lead by exiting the shelter.

    Cecile was next, quickly followed by Lanston after he grabbed another piece of meat from the pile. Sebas glared at her before walking out while shaking his head. Orphelia didn¡¯t allow it to bother her, grabbing a few pieces of meat for her rumbling stomach.

    The others walked several meters from the shelter and stood in a loose circle. Orphelia stepping into the remaining gap closed the loop. She thought it was funny how they thought their backs would prevent others from hearing their secrets.

    ¡°Then we should discuss our strategy for the day.¡±

    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s no need for that,¡± she said between bites. ¡°I¡¯ve already ensured that we will pass the qualifier.¡±

    Robert looked at her with confusion but Sebas jumped to a conclusion quickly. ¡°I suppose that was the reason for your display,¡± the royal sneered. ¡°Do you mean to seduce a married woman? Have you no shame?¡±

    ¡°This is not the time for this,¡± Robert said forcefully. ¡°If we aren¡¯t here for the test, why did you gather us?¡±

    ¡°The sun shines brightest during harvest.¡±

    The four tensed, all staring at her in mute surprise. She grinned at them as she ate her breakfast, reveling in the moment. There weren¡¯t many aspects of her work that were enjoyable but this moment, when someone realized she was more than she seemed, always delighted her. It meant a job well done.

    That phrase had been drilled into them by their respective guardians for them to recognize agents of the crown. It gave her unquestionable authority and they were to treat any orders from her as if they came from whoever gave them the code, only superseded by their guardians or a written royal decree.

    ¡°You?¡± Sebas whispered in disbelief.

    ¡°Yes, me.¡±

    ¡°But¡­you¡¯re nobody! A girl with a water affinity from a baron¡¯s house! You¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quite something. You know what I am and still have the gall to stand there and insult me.¡±

    His mouth clicked shut, face paling. The others were similarly uneasy.

    Orphelia nodded. ¡°Good. As I was saying, the qualifiers are over. We have a new mission for today. All of you will do your best to forge a connection to Lourianne Tome.¡±

    Sebas swore. ¡°Are you using the crown¡¯s authority to make us help you flirt with that freak?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised you don¡¯t understand. After all, you¡¯re nothing but a waste of a son sent away by his father for his rampant ambition.¡± He flinched at the words but she didn¡¯t relent. ¡°Attempting to assassinate your own brother. Honestly, I don¡¯t know if your father was more disappointed by your vicious heart or how sloppy it all was. The other patriarchs laughed about it for months. If you had embarrassed me that badly, I wouldn¡¯t be able to look at you either¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡±

    ¡°Oh? Done trading insults? You should stop, you¡¯re not very good at it.¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t think asking for an explanation is out of order,¡± Robert said carefully, like a child probing a strange new thing with a stick. For all his faults, he respected authority and his attitude toward her had changed.

    She still found it lacking. ¡°Actually, it is. You don¡¯t question the authority of the crown¡¯s agents, period.¡± The young knight flinched, pursing his lips. ¡°However, explaining won¡¯t hurt and this is too important for you to mess up. I will make this as simple as possible for you. I believe that you, all your families, and the kingdom at large, will benefit from a relationship with Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t new information,¡± Cecile said. ¡°Everyone wants access to another continent¡¯s resources. I thought the king agreed to allow my grandfather to broker any deals?¡±

    ¡°Relax, Guiness girl. No one is making a move on your family¡¯s gold. You all witnessed Lou¡¯s, hm, unique constitution?¡±

    Their faces flushed, though Sebas tried to cover his embarrassment with a scowl.

    ¡°Seeing as she has access to a melder that can make everything work properly, what happens if a Harvest noble impregnates elven royalty? Hm?¡±

    She didn¡¯t expect a reaction from Robert with his romantic view of the world. The other three got it and she was amused by the absolute horror on Sebas¡¯ face.

    ¡°Saints protect us¡­¡±

    ¡°Nothing has come to pass yet. I could be leaping to conclusions.¡± She had never done so before but after recent events and with the presence of succubi, she had to accept the possibility that her judgment was compromised.

    ¡°However, part of my job is to be informed of and prepare for the worst eventualities. As such, you will all do your best to forge a connection to Lourianne Tome and help me gather information about her, her abilities, her ambitions, and her intentions.¡± She would work alone but the summoner seemed cautious of her.

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s impossible,¡± Sebas said, the first to come to terms with the situation. ¡°She despises me.¡±

    ¡°The fate of the kingdom could hang in the balance and you tell me it¡¯s impossible.¡± She scoffed. He reminded her of when she was a child, crying that it was too hard to fight grown men with only a dagger. Her mother had wiped her tears, patted her head, and pushed her back into the arms of her father. Impossible was unacceptable.

    ¡°Cecile? How about you? If what I hear about your family is correct, you should have some idea what to do.¡±

    Cecile¡¯s blushed deepened. ¡°I-I¡­¡±

    ¡°Orphelia, you are out of line!¡± Robert roared.

    ¡°Out of line? What exactly did I say?¡±

    ¡°You would have her¡­offer herself as a bargaining tool.¡±

    ¡°By the saints, when did I say that?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy! You implied it!¡±

    ¡°Implied it? I simply said she had her family¡¯s experience in negotiation to rely on. I¡¯m sure they have trained her in how to read people¡¯s interests and flatter someone to death.¡± She chuckled, no humor in the sound. ¡°I suppose in your world, the only way a woman can convince someone to do anything is with her body. Unexpected coming from such a chivalrous knight.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± Robert trailed off, finding no way to refute. His eyes moved to Cecile but she avoided his gaze. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ashamed, Quin.¡± The nickname evoked genuine humor. She couldn¡¯t help thinking his complex was a bit ridiculous. As if anyone would care what he was called if he had the power to raze cities and split mountains. ¡°I like your idea. If she can get over her blushing maiden syndrome, it¡¯s a good way to break through Lou¡¯s guard. I can reasonably assure that you¡¯ll enjoy the experience.¡±

    The future hero was lost. Now, he had legitimate reason to scold her but he was reluctant. It would be like sticking his hand into a snake pit to retrieve a gold crown. The reward wasn¡¯t worth it.

    ¡°Boys, since the three of you lack imagination, allow me to point out the obvious. No person is an island. A connection to Lourianne Tome can be as simple as a connection to her friends and acquaintances. Robert, you seem to have a nice atmosphere with Alana James. Sebas, the brute has taken a liking to you.¡±

    ¡°I am not¡ª¡±

    She simply stared at him. He halted his complaints, frowning deeply. Orphelia made a note to be a little less venomous in his evaluation. Apparently, he wasn¡¯t a complete child.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to choose him. Frankly, he doesn¡¯t seem that close to our target anyway. The redhead hates you. Perhaps the shy one.¡±

    Sebas huffed. ¡°I don¡¯t even know his name.¡±

    ¡°A great way to start a conversation. Please, get creative. You don¡¯t realize it but I¡¯ve done all of you a favor. I could have kept quiet and let our superiors handle this. This is your opportunity to make up for your spectacular failure through this test and to accumulate some achievements.¡±

    The magic word wiped away the last of Sebas¡¯ hesitation. A cruel smile replaced his frown. The expression didn¡¯t inspire confidence.

    In truth, she could care less if they did a good job and were praised by their respective guardians. If it weren¡¯t for the documented failures of the many assets employed by different factions, she would have held her silence.

    She had a theory that the succubi alerted Lou to suspicious people. Hopefully, the clumsy greed of her charges would not alert the elementals and their summoner. If they did, at least it would bias Lou into thinking that those wanting to investigate her would be obvious in their motives. It could soften her up and make her less suspicious of those trained to avoid the detection of the mental affinity.

    ¡°Do your best everyone,¡± she said as she broke the circle, walking off.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Robert shouted after her. ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to ask where this waterhole is. I need a bath.¡± And another conversation with her latest target.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-83

    Cloud remains blissfully out of sorts as I carry her to the watering hole. The spotted doglike monsters that seem abundant in this part of the Sanctuary have isolated the end of the large watering hole close to our shelter. They snarl as I approach but I ignore their bared fangs. One lunges for my leg once I¡¯m in range. It quickly lets go, whining in confusion. Didn¡¯t leave a mark. Poor thing hurt itself trying.

    For that, I only lightly kick its belly as I pass, tossing it aside. The monster scrambles back to its paws and slinks off, watching me with wary eyes. I have to kick two more before the others learn, giving me space.

    The water is a bit cooler than I expect but not uncomfortable. I settle in the shallowest area and hold Cloud against my shoulder as I wash her with my hands.

    ¡°Heed the wise, admire the strong, love the gentle,¡± she says with a deep sigh.

    ¡°You never told me why you speak like that,¡± I mutter, more focused on my task. I massage her as I clean her from head to toe. If she was limp before, she¡¯s practically boneless now, leaning against me with no strength. I swear she purrs as she affectionately licks the parts of me she can reach.

    ¡°Our ancestors, the first to walk amongst our brethren, were those who became beasts to fight beasts. Knights are meant to march on open plains. The Temple moved through the wildest parts of the kingdom, following the footsteps of manabeasts. However, when the fighting was done, the faithful were denounced, demeaned as men stricken by madness. The old kings promised them they would have their own land and their teachers, ancient manabeasts as wise as men, would be given due respect. They lied.¡±

    I sigh. A similar story to my own family. The Great War brought humanity together but later, once the continent was settled, the contributions of smaller groups were brushed aside as the royal family consolidated their power. I wonder how many other families are out there, living the life of peasants without knowing their ancestors were heroes.

    ¡°Afterwards, the faithful shunned the ways of men. The most devout would slice into their tongue, making it impossible to form words properly. It was a physical vow to never speak the language of the kings, for their words were only meant to deceive.¡±

    ¡°Extreme.¡± I am all for holding a grudge but I would never mangle myself to make a point.

    She chuckles. ¡°Their descendants came to the same conclusion. However, tradition is strong. Expressing an idea in as few words as possible is a sign of sincerity. Yet, in efforts to develop their own way of speaking, our speech became a bit¡­poetic.¡±

    Poetic is a nice way of putting it and I¡¯m inclined to be nice to her, so I simply hum in agreement. I finish washing her and lounge in the water, idly tracing the fur along her spine. ¡°Exactly how far do you want to take this?¡± I ask, poking her lower back.

    ¡°To its inevitable conclusion.¡±

    ¡°¡­does that mean you¡¯re going to be a mon¡ªer, look like your¡­¡± I sigh, lamenting the ridiculous words I¡¯m about to utter. ¡°Look like your brethren?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°No, honored sister. If the Temple sought to become beasts, we would not be speaking now. We emulate our brethren, seeking wisdom in their instincts. We are the bridge between, the blend of human reason and nature¡¯s strength. However, that is not your concern, is it?¡±

    She raises her head with a lazy smirk. ¡°You are hoping I remain attractive to you.¡±

    My hand brushes her cheek before rubbing the tip of her furry ear. ¡°Didn¡¯t you enjoy what we did?¡±

    She rumbles contentedly, closing her eyes and nuzzling my hand. ¡°Mm.¡± One eye opens. ¡°Letting you mount me does not mean you own me, honored sister.¡±

    I flinch at the words. ¡°I don¡¯t want to own you.¡±

    ¡°No? Yet you seek to give your commentary on my evolution.¡± She huffs at my confusion. ¡°It would be like me asking you to change your eyes to brown because I find it more attractive.¡±

    The suggestion makes me squirm. Is that what I did? Was I going to do so? In my mind, a simple suggestion that she doesn¡¯t need to become a furry behemoth to become strong doesn¡¯t sound like I¡¯m trying to control her decision. I certainly don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything wrong with me saying so. Yes, I feel our relationship should be closer after I fucked her in front of an audience, but isn¡¯t that normal?

    Saints, I¡¯d make that suggestion even if we¡¯d just met. Wasting a pretty face is always a shame.

    I don¡¯t realize I¡¯m trying to move my hand away until she grabs my wrist. ¡°Do not curse the wolves. It is their nature to stalk sheep.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying I¡¯m a predator?¡±

    ¡°I am saying, do not fault a creature for doing what is in their nature.¡± She kisses the palm of my hand before nuzzling it. ¡°Some mate for life. Some mate for a day. And some hoard females. Many wars end and begin with a clear boundary.¡±

    ¡°So¡­you¡¯re telling me not to get ahead of myself.¡± Am I being rejected? It feels like it.

    She huffs. ¡°I would expect less rigid thinking from you of all people.¡± She sits up, throwing her arms around my neck as she looks into my eyes. ¡°I have my own path to follow. When our paths cross, I am happy to be your puppy.¡± Her kiss stops me from commenting. ¡°One day, our paths may join¡­that time is not now.¡±

    She is telling me not to get ahead of myself. I am being rejected but maybe only temporarily? It¡¯s¡­not terribly upsetting. I like Cloud. She¡¯s a bit strange but we¡¯re two of a kind. However, she is more of a friend than a lover. I wouldn¡¯t have rejected her if she wanted to try becoming more but I won¡¯t fault her if she doesn¡¯t.

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    ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re missing,¡± I say with a cheeky smile, demonstratively bucking my hips.

    She moans, fingers digging into my shoulders but failing to pierce my tough skin. ¡°Oh, I do know. Our paths will cross many times.¡± Her smile flashes those dangerous-looking teeth.

    A great idea comes to mind. ¡°Do you like snow?¡±

    Cloud shivers dramatically. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Do you like fighting monsters in snow?¡±

    She looks a little interested. ¡°You are speaking of the campaign into the Bleak Peaks.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so you know about that.¡±

    ¡°The Sanctuary will be sourcing mounts for the expedition. The guilds have also requested tamers to join along with their companions. The natives of the mountains are adept at camouflage.¡±

    ¡°Did you sign up for it?¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°The Temple will have nothing to do with it. The lords have lived on that land for centuries and have done men no wrong. These useless assaults have no purpose besides that of ego. Let the fools drown in the snow.¡±

    I wince. ¡°Does that include me?¡±

    ¡°¡­I see. You are going to your death.¡±

    Haha, thanks for the vote of confidence. I want to confidently declare that I will come back victorious but the Bleak Peaks have a gruesome reputation. Truthfully, no one has any idea what we¡¯re trying to conquer. To my knowledge, there are no written accounts of the Lords of Winter, the powerful manabeasts who drove away the old kings. There is one thing I can say confidently.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make it back alive.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Perhaps you will but I should have my fill of you while I can.¡± Her hand moves between my legs. ¡°It is a good thing you are not shy.¡±

    I follow her gaze and look over my shoulder to see someone approaching. I drop a ¡®film¡¯ over my eyes and Orphelia comes into view. Right now, when she thinks I am too far away to see her, I see her true face. A blank mask with carefully crafted smiles flittering over it. Each time, a little part is adjusted, from the curvature of her lips to how many teeth she flashes. The expressions are aimed at a small oval of water that moves with her, a mirror I suppose.

    Saints, this is disturbing to watch. She¡¯s not emotionless. I could hear her surprise earlier in her heartbeat. The scorn in her voice yesterday when she whispered to Mr. Talented could match mine. She genuinely enjoyed Geneva¡¯s cooking.

    It''s that control again. She filters her emotions, only allowing what she wants to show. It goes beyond the realm of etiquette and enters the realm of a performer but she is playing a part every second of her life.

    A wave of sympathy for her comes over me. What the hell happened to her that she has to live this way? I¡¯m exhausted just watching.

    Doesn¡¯t mean I like her. She still makes me uncomfortable.

    As she reaches a distance where a normal person with decent vision can almost see her, she drops the oval of water to the ground and slaps her cheeks loud enough I can hear the clap. Then she picks up her pace.

    I turn away so it¡¯s not obvious I was watching her the entire time. Cloud is watching me with rapt interest. ¡°That was different from the one you showed me before,¡± she says, a finger tracing my brow. ¡°What does it do?¡±

    ¡°It allows me to see further away and in greater detail.¡±

    ¡°Then why not use it all the time?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a reason we see as much as we do. Too much detail can get distracting. Besides, all my films are obvious.¡±

    She hums. ¡°The purple of your eye became more¡­¡± She trails off with another hum. ¡°It is distinctive.¡± She looks past me when Orphelia¡¯s footsteps become audible. ¡°A serpent can swallow a bear in a day, but their poison can kill one in moments.¡±

    ¡°Haha, did you just call her a snake?¡± I think that is the first time I¡¯ve heard her insult someone. Ah, no. Knowing her, that wasn¡¯t meant as an insult but simply a frank evaluation of Orphelia¡¯s character. Also, I¡¯m immune to all known poisons in this realm. ¡°Act natural, she¡¯s almost here.¡±

    Once she¡¯s close enough a normal person could hear her, I look over my shoulder. The blank face is gone as she hurries over. She smiles shyly, the picture of a blushing maiden. Saints, is that why she hit herself?! That is admirable dedication to her mask.

    ¡°Um, I hope you don¡¯t mind. I also needed to bathe.¡±

    A water caster walked ten minutes to clean up? Who are you kidding? ¡°Plenty of room,¡± I say, gesturing to the whole of the waterhole. I expect her to settle in the corner I claimed for myself. Orphelia proves she possesses no shame at all as she drops her robe and climbs into the water right beside me. Then she takes it a step further by linking our arms together.

    ¡°Bathing is a little complicated with one hand,¡± I say drily without looking over.

    ¡°Ah.¡± Her smile turns into a pout. It¡¯s so well-crafted, I can see it fooling anyone who doesn¡¯t know her true nature. I¡¯m almost fooled despite watching her practice the expression minutes earlier. ¡°Would you think me a wicked woman if I told you I had an ulterior motive for coming here?¡±

    I already think that of you. ¡°Depends on the motive.¡±

    She leans up, ignoring Cloud who is still straddling my waist and whispers against my ear, ¡°I can¡¯t stop thinking about you.¡± She sits back, looking up at me through her long lashes. Her hazel eyes are beautiful but there is no emotion behind them. ¡°It would be too much of a shame if we only know each other through this test.¡±

    I sigh. Who would have thought the day would come when I would be pushing women away? ¡°Lady Yemen¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please, call me Orphelia.¡±

    ¡°Then, Orphelia. To be perfectly clear, what you¡¯re asking for is impossible.¡± I have many things to do once the qualifiers are finished and they don¡¯t include whatever game she¡¯s playing.

    ¡°Are you sure? You haven¡¯t even seen what I can do¡­¡± Her hand tries to touch me but finds resistance in the form of Cloud. Ripples go through the water as the intruding hand is smacked away. She smiles when Orphelia looks toward her but says nothing.

    ¡°Quite sure.¡±

    ¡°Then what was this morning? Don¡¯t tell me you do that to all the woman you¡¯re not interested in?¡±

    ¡°You gave me an invitation. I accepted. This time, I am rejecting it.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see.¡± She moves away from me, hanging her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to be so callous with a woman¡¯s heart, Lady Tome.¡± Her quiet voice is full of hurt and grievances.

    ¡°How generous of you to contribute to the watering hole, though the tiny drops will hardly be noticed.¡± Cloud firmly grinds the false grief under her heel. ¡°If you want a mate to treasure your heart, you should stop grabbing bulls by their horn.¡±

    ¡°Pfft¡ª¡± I slap a hand over my mouth but it¡¯s too late to stop a bit of the laugh from slipping out.

    Orphelia jumps out of the water with big fanfare, splashing us as she hurriedly grabs her robe and walks off. Again, when she thinks she¡¯s too far away to be observed, the frantic energy melts away.

    ¡°Strange. I would have taken her for a bit more of a romantic,¡± she mutters to herself. ¡°Lourianne Tome. What a puzzle.¡±

    ¡°That woman disturbs me.¡±

    ¡°It means you are not ignoring the obvious, honored sister. She plays the game of kings but that means nothing to the faithful.¡±

    That I understood. Orphelia is good at playing her role but all the acting in the world can¡¯t disguise the eerie calmness of her heartbeat or the lack of bodily responses. People¡¯s smell can reflect their mood, from joy to anger and, the most distinctive, fear. For those who alter themselves to have a beast¡¯s senses, it¡¯ll take far more to fool us.

    ¡°Now that the distraction is gone¡­¡± The hand loitering between my legs finds my slit and two fingers easily push inside. My head lolls backward and she runs her tongue along my exposed jugular. ¡°Shall we continue?¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-84

    Our ¡®bath¡¯ takes a whole hour. Cloud once again is carried by me, her strong legs wrapped around my waist as she leans against my back. Affectionate growling by my ear is interrupted by quick licks and cute whines as she nuzzles me.

    Surprisingly, the shelter reflects our happy mood. The two teams that were rather distant last night are seated together and chatting like they¡¯ve known each other for years. Arthur is bellowing to Sebas, who wears a tolerant smile that only twitches at the edges every couple of words. Mr. Talented and Max¡¯s¡­cousin? Niece? The Guiness girl. They¡¯re seated with Alana toward the back of the shelter, tones polite. Lanston and William are seated near the fire with their heads bowed toward one another, whispering like little boys.

    Did I miss something?

    I move toward Geneva, who is lounging by her conjured fire. Bell is seated at her feet, playing with the little cutie. Aw~

    ¡°Did you sprinkle happy spice on breakfast or something?¡± I ask as I take a seat at Geneva¡¯s side, transferring Cloud into my arms. She rumbles contentedly as I lightly brush a finger along her spine. Never expected her to be such a soft touch.

    [This is not my doing, my summoner.]

    Yeah, well, whose doing is it? Even as I ask the question, a suspicion rises. My gaze drifts to Orphelia who is currently lying alone in blankets against the right wall. As if feeling my gaze, she turns toward me before turning her face with a huff. Still pretending to be mad? It¡¯s useless. I¡¯ve already seen your mask.

    [A snake moves amongst your sheep, Lou. One that can molt in the blink of an eye.]

    I figured that out myself. The interesting thing is she was able to quickly pull the others into her schemes. A Guiness daughter, a royal, and Mr. Talented are all making nice with my team, I¡¯m assuming on her orders. That takes serious clout.

    [What do you wish to do?]

    Is there any question? Ignore her and avoid her. After this test is over, she can¡¯t ensnare me in any traps if I¡¯m nowhere near her web.

    [Are you sure? A wonderful doorway into the kingdom¡¯s politics lies before you. Utilized correctly, she can be quite the boon.]

    I have zero interest in the kingdom¡¯s politics. There is a big, wide world out there. At the very least, I imagine we¡¯ll be spending quite some time on the elven continent for Kierra¡¯s sake. Why would I want unnecessary ties?

    [You plan to take advantage of the Summoning Hall¡¯s collection of records, which will take several years. Do you expect they will leave you alone in the meantime? Especially with your recent exposure.]

    Are you saying I¡¯ve been careless?

    [Not at all. It is quite gratifying to see you become more comfortable with your power. Hiding is for the inferior, which you are not. Feel free to become more wanton in your displays. I will alert you when there is a need for caution.]

    Haha, succubi. Endless temptation. Then? What are you saying?

    [The kingdom will not leave you alone. Unless of course you wish to slaughter those in power?]

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    Yeah, no.

    [Then the dogs will circle. Always watching, waiting for their chance to snatch a few scraps from your dinner table. Taking what benefits can be found in your shadow. The more daring throwing obstacles in your path to change your direction to one of their liking. If they are going to force you to play, then why not play to win?]

    I understand what she¡¯s saying. The point is, I don¡¯t truly care. There are so many other things that deserve my attention, such as taking summoning to another level, wooing women, exploring a world that has become a mystery to humanity, amassing a vast fortune, and of course wooing women. Sure, crushing idiots is satisfying but I enjoy it in the physical sense. Smiling at someone over tea while their agents burn down my holdings and my agents kidnap their favorite descendant is not my idea of fun.

    However, Geneva has a point. If I don¡¯t want to be bothered left and right, measures need to be taken. I also see where she wants this to go. Ah, well. I did say I don¡¯t care.

    There will be rules.

    Geneva¡¯s tail starts to swing. [A game is no fun without them.]

    One, you cannot sit on the throne. Not physically or metaphorically. This is the human kingdom on the human continent, for saints¡¯ sake. It¡¯d be too sad if we lost our last seat of power due to the sloppy orders of a human summoner.

    [Am I allowed to install a puppet monarch?]

    No. The ruler must be able to make decisions completely free of your influence.

    [Then, as long as I do not scheme to depose the human ruler or affect them with the mental affinity, any other methods of coercion are available? Remembering my previous orders not to put your interests at risk.]

    I will also add that you are to first use, if available in both feasibility and reasonable timetable, methods that involve the least harm to ¡®innocents¡¯ by my standards. I¡¯m not saying don¡¯t kidnap the cute grandchildren but it shouldn¡¯t be the first thing you do.

    Her tail moves faster. [Generous, my summoner. I thought you would forbid it outright.]

    Yes, well, I am throwing you amongst nobles. Telling you to keep it clean would be tying both hands behind your back and crippling a leg.

    Rule two! You are to do your plotting and scheming from my side. I am far too accustomed to the comfort of your service to have you galivanting off to the capital. However, I will give you five succubi from the Masons, heh, to use as you see fit, who will abide the same rules you¡¯re bound to.

    [I would never dream of leaving you.]

    Third! No using the mental affinity to alter people¡¯s thoughts, memories, or perceptions unless in self-defense, immediate defense of another, or¡­unless invited.

    She giggles in excitement, still mindful of her cover as a demure servant despite our conversation. I know, I¡¯m practically serving them up on a silver platter by allowing the use of her magic. Permission? Ha! Half of them would do it for the right amount of gold. The other would do it if she drops her dress. The few outliers would certainly do it for the promise of power.

    I can¡¯t think of anyone who could resist if offered all three.

    Fourth! None of this comes back to me. The whole reason that I¡¯m allowing this to happen is because I don¡¯t want to be bothered. If you think it will bring me problems or disrupt my life, cut your loses. Literally.

    [Certainly.]

    And the last rule.

    Everything you obtain, accomplish, or create in the process¡­is mine.

    Her tail reaches excited puppy levels of speed. [How tyrannical~]

    Hmph. I don¡¯t care in general but if you discover anything of interest, it is to be reported to me promptly and protected until I determine what is to be done. In the event time is sensitive, you are to do what you believe will benefit me most while adhering to my morals and the given rules as much as possible.

    Ah. If you find a person you think I would be interested in¡ª

    [Particularly beautiful and interesting women?]

    Eh-hem. In you find an interesting person, regardless of appearance, or race for that matter, cause the minimal amount of harm necessary and alert me. Anyone else¡­do with as you please.

    One hand touches my shoulder as she leans over to kiss my cheek. [You are so good to me~ We are going to have so much fun in the future, Lou.] Still wearing a smile, she gracefully gets to her feet and moves over to Orphelia.

    And so, with a few casual thoughts, I have unleashed a powerful succubus amongst greedy mortals. It¡¯s like giving a farmer a fertile plot of magical soil and telling them to grow whatever they want, tax-free.

    Saints have mercy on them.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-85

    The last day of the qualifiers end with a lack of action and a strange tension between the two teams crammed in and around our small shelter. I never expected problems but the sheer ease in which the test was accomplished is a bit surprising. Bell told me that my expectations for others¡¯ abilities has been drastically skewed by my wife. She may have a point.

    All I can think about this test is¡­disappointing. The other initiates we encountered were incompetent if not outright buffoons. Not in regard to their combat ability, I already knew they would be outclassed there, but their common sense. The next Harvest Hero had his mount swallowed in a completely avoidable situation had he used a hint of caution. Saints, it¡¯s a little embarrassing.

    As for the tension, that is from the frankly unnerving change in attitude from Mr. Talented¡¯s team. They went from vaguely condescending and ambivalent to supreme ass-kissers as they attempted to befriend the members of my team.

    Their blatant desire bordered on disgusting because of their fake sincerity. Cecile actually flirted with Arthur. Flirted with him, the walking bane to all women with standards. It was nauseating. Slightly impressive as well, as her smile never wavered.

    Their act is still going strong as we march away from the shelter, heading for the gate to have our points totaled. Mr. Talented, Lanston, and Sebas each hold a corner of the blanket used to transport our prizes alongside Arthur, two more blankets thrown on top to hide our trove of points from greedy eyes. The privileged young men are sweating like pigs despite the cool morning but still engage in pleasant conversation with the seadog and William, who walks beside them keeping the man-mules watered.

    The women of the group walk ahead, spared from the physical labor by virtue of my preference to see their shapely asses walking in front of me instead of William and the gang¡¯s flat backsides. Orphelia, the schemer behind the forced harmony, has ceased her schemes against me in favor of a more receptive target. She and Geneva have been attached at the hips since yesterday.

    I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t concerned. Concerned for Orphelia. Concerned for the kingdom at large. They have no idea the beast I have released into their midst. Saints, I don¡¯t know for sure what I have unleashed.

    A few summoning records do not do a creature that has lived for centuries and schemed against the greatest minds across multiple realms justice. I may have given her restrictions but what does that mean, truly? Mere men have destroyed kingdoms with just their words. She has that and a coefficient of over a thousand.

    The crown is royally screwed.

    But there is also a bit of concern directed to an unexpected place. I¡¯m worried for Geneva. My greatest fear for this situation is not that Harvest burns in the flames of a coup. No, it¡¯s the thought that Geneva may forget her place.

    To anyone who is not a summoner, those words would sound horrible but the truth is, I cannot afford to treat her as human. Trust will not be repaid with trust. Empathy is merely a tool that her kind will discard the moment it becomes inconvenient. Succubi can look like us and because of that, people make the mistake of believing they think like us. Feel like us. They absolutely do not.

    At the end of the day, Geneva is a predator and all creatures that wield mana are her prey. She is the same as every other hunter but has evolved to use her body as a trap and emotion as a weapon.

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    For several months, she has played the good, docile servant. I truly hope that briefly returning to the role of a predator does not give her any ideas. I worry I haven¡¯t properly sanctioned her with my orders and she uses this opportunity to pressure me in some way I won¡¯t know about until it¡¯s too late. What will I have to do to bring her to heel if that happens? Is it even possible?

    Very disturbing possibilities but at the end of the day, fear can¡¯t rule my decisions. Summoners are cautious by nature. Those that aren¡¯t don¡¯t tend to live long enough to pass on their recklessness. However, a summoner can¡¯t be afraid of their elementals or they are useless.

    I knew this day was coming the moment I summoned her, cemented it when I destroyed the Grimoires. I won¡¯t shackle my own growth, in any field, because I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t control my own elemental. May as well change my name and give up the art. I have to believe that my knowledge, my wife, and my constitution will be enough to see me through.

    Catastrophe has not come yet so the thoughts are idle speculation as I trail behind the others, the little cutie in my palm munching on another scorpion captured by Bell. We aren¡¯t far from the gate, having reached our shelter without wandering too deep into the reserve, and at the early hour, I anticipate a few hours of quiet travel before we go our separate ways.

    That hope is dashed by the sound of pounding hooves.

    I notice long before the others and ignore it. We are all heading in the same direction after all. Not surprising that another team would come upon us, especially a mounted one. However, I become a little more interested as the riders cease their parallel track and veer toward us. An unnecessary change of course that makes them incredibly suspicious.

    After half an hour, William, who is carrying the looking glass of Lanston so he may serve as a scout between his watering duties, shouts, ¡°We have people coming.¡±

    When he pauses for too long, Alana prompts him with, ¡°Details about these people?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, of course. A full team of five, mounted on horseback.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell their condition?¡±

    ¡°They seem healthy if not worse for wear. Understandable given the environment.¡±

    I try not to scoff at him. No one cares how much dust is covering them.

    ¡°Where¡¯s their guide?¡±

    ¡°¡­doesn¡¯t seem to be present¡­ah. Saints. The man has just exited the cloud of dust kicked up by the horses and is keeping pace with them.¡± He lowers the looking glass with a frown. ¡°They are decisively heading toward us rather than the gate.¡±

    ¡°Halt!¡± Alana snaps, stomping toward the men of the team as they lower the blankets carrying our haul. ¡°Tuck those blankets in to hide our points and set up a defensive perimeter around it. We need to be ready in case they prove to be hostile.¡±

    ¡°A team headed for the gate this early should already have their required points,¡± Mr. Talented says with a hint of disapproval.

    ¡°Ah, yes. Someone with a chest full of gold at home would never rob a carriage full of gold. We prepare for a fight.¡±

    ¡°I am suggesting we don¡¯t go looking for one,¡± he says, his voice a little too soft and his eyes a bit too intimate for my taste.

    ¡°And I¡¯m suggesting you shut up,¡± I snap with a nasty smile as I stomp over to him. He averts his gaze as I¡¯ve yet to find clothing and can¡¯t be bothered to walk with a blanket wrapped around me. ¡°Do we look like warmongers to you? They¡¯re riding toward us. If anyone¡¯s looking for a fight, it¡¯s them.¡±

    I stop when I¡¯m uncomfortably close, leaning forward as I lower my voice. ¡°And even if we did want to beat them stupid and leave them out here for the monsters, you don¡¯t have anything to say about that, do you? Seeing as you are currently trying to stay in our good graces.¡±

    He grits his teeth as he meets my eyes. I think he doesn¡¯t like me equating him to a mercenary. Or a dog. Too bad that¡¯s the life he¡¯s chosen for himself. He could have said no to Orphelia¡¯s plans, whatever they are, and stomped from the shelter with his dignity intact. He didn¡¯t, so now he has to bear the consequences of his choices.

    ¡°Not at all, my lady.¡±

    I grin in amusement as I lean back. ¡°Good.¡± I slap his shoulder. ¡°Then I expect to see you putting those four affinities to work if it comes to it.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-86

    Robert may be brooding over his lot in life but the others are more excited. Like Arthur. The mounted team is nothing but tiny dots in the distance but he watches their approach with anticipation, his body making disturbingly loud popping sounds as he limbers up.

    Well, Arthur¡¯s the only who seems excited. The rest are trying to keep their nerves off their faces except for Orphelia, who seems ambivalent as she continues talking with Geneva, and Alana, who is watching their approach with a stern frown. Cloud moves away from us after winking at me, playing her role as a guide and distancing herself from the coming confrontation.

    I break the tense atmosphere as I lay down on my side, head propped up by a hand as the little cutie snuggles into my chest. Hard to remain serious and stoic when the leader is so relaxed. Alana¡¯s frown melts as she shakes her head.

    That¡¯s how the mounted team finds us. They slow down once they¡¯re close enough for everyone to make out their dark robes, the furious gallop easing into a slow walk as they approach. The lack of a miniature cavalry charge speaks well as to their intentions but Alana¡¯s hand still lands on the hilt of her sword as they come to a stop.

    The one in the lead is a man in his early twenties, on the older side for an initiate. He has what I want to call an ¡®older brother¡¯ vibe. The three boys and petite girl that make up his team are watching him and he looks comfortable in his position of leadership, but his hunched over figure and easy smile are the opposite of oppressive authority.

    ¡°Lo there,¡± he calls with a casual wave of his hand.

    Alana opens her mouth to respond to the greeting but Mr. My-Talent-Makes-Me-Better-Than-You beats her to it. Robert takes a step forward, drawing the other group¡¯s attention to him, as he replies, ¡°Greetings.¡±

    ¡°Thought I recognized you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we are the team you abandoned previously.¡± He¡¯s admirably keeping the scorn off his face but his voice is full of grievances. Can¡¯t say I blame him. Sure, this team had no obligation to help him, none at all, but no one likes being turned away in their hour of need.

    But seriously, who does this idiot think he is? You¡¯re not in charge. You¡¯re not even in charge of your own team. Why are you talking right now? I think Alana hasn¡¯t interrupted out of shock for his audacity. Weren¡¯t you saying something about not picking fights? Are you angling for an apology? He certainly looks like it with those tense shoulders and raised chin. I sure as saints wouldn¡¯t give him one. Would probably punch the idiot to knock him down a peg or two.

    ¡°Ah, hope you¡¯re not sour about that,¡± the leader says in a casual tone that also says that he doesn¡¯t care either way. ¡°Supplies limit a campaign, am I right? Besides, looks like you made it out okay. Even got your injuries seen to. Good for you.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    ¡°Robert, enough.¡± Alana finally intervenes. A subdued glare sends him back and she faces the leader. ¡°Normally, I would be courteous but it is early, I haven¡¯t had a good rest in two days, and I want out of this wasteland. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I can appreciate getting to the point.¡± He shifts in his saddle. ¡°Are those a bunch of those weasels in those blankets?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a yes then. No need to be nervous.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not nervous. I¡¯m telling you they¡¯re not your concern because if you try to touch our points, I will break your hands for the attempted theft, take your horses and your points, and leave you to fail the test.¡±

    The threat is delivered with cold finality. She¡¯s not trying to intimidate him. She is simply stating what will happen if he makes a stupid decision, declaring it with the same surety as someone declaring that the sun rises in the morning and taxes will be collected. Sends shivers down my spine. Now I want him to do something stupid to see if she will really do it.

    Too bad the mounted leader isn¡¯t a fool. He raises his hands in a gesture of peace. ¡°Alright, now you¡¯re making me nervous. I just had a few questions.¡± His eyes briefly move to Robert. ¡°Have you guys teamed up?¡±

    Alana pauses. ¡°They¡¯re traveling with us.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re not comrades in arms, bound in blood and whatnot?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Do they have any claim to any of those weasels?¡±

    ¡°None.¡± Orphelia is carrying the five weasels for her team and her eyes narrow as the leader¡¯s gaze turns to her. ¡°Get to the point, we have a lot more walking ahead of us.¡±

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    ¡°One more question. Have they made an offer to buy any points off you?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Alana is trying hard to keep things civil but her impatience is leaking into her tone. I¡¯m getting bored of the interrogation myself but I¡¯m interested in where this is leading.

    ¡°Excellent. I would like to make you an offer. We will give each of you fifty gold crowns to stand aside and do absolutely nothing while I steal their points. I promise not to aggress any member of your team or make a move for your points. Swear to the saints.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± Robert barks. ¡°Why are you targeting us?¡±

    ¡°I also want to know what¡¯s going on,¡± Alana says. ¡°This seems extreme for five corpses.¡±

    ¡°Not about the corpses, Lady James.¡± He sighs and scratches behind his ear. ¡°To be honest, I¡¯d rather not. Short story? My master knows his master and they don¡¯t get along very well. The old man asked me to make things as difficult as possible for Robert Quintana and whatever team he assembled. I was kind of promised something great if they fail the test. To be honest, I feel shitty about it. Thought the test was going to do the job for me but apparently, they¡¯ve got the saints¡¯ luck. Actually found a non-hostile team with a healer and an excess of points. Sigh.¡±

    ¡°Your teacher? I don¡¯t recognize you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t. The future Harvest Hero doesn¡¯t have time to think of his lesser, I imagine.¡±

    ¡°Why are we standing here listening to his drivel?¡± Sebas says. ¡°He¡¯s a bandit here to rob us, pure and simple. Unfortunately, he¡¯s chosen poor targets.¡± He scoffed. ¡°What kind of fools ride up on a superior fighting force and announces their hostile intentions? I should execute you here and spare you the pain of living with such a deficit of intellect.¡±

    ¡°Did we? Lady James never said you were allied. You are simply two teams traveling together.¡± His eyes move to me. Hmm. He¡¯s not as simple as he seems. ¡°How about it, Lady Tome?¡±

    ¡°Do you think she would abandon allies for a mere pittance¡ª¡±

    ¡°Haha, sure thing!¡±

    Sebas and the rest of his team turn to me in shock. I roll to my feet, scooping up the cutie while bearing their attention with a smirk. ¡°What? He said it, didn¡¯t he? We¡¯re not allies. I¡¯ve no obligation to defend you.¡±

    ¡°You¡­you¡­¡±

    ¡°Okay. How about this. Arthur? You want to fight these clowns or pocket an easy fifty crowns?¡±

    ¡°The gold, captain! Bwahaha!¡±

    ¡°William? How bout it? Do you, personally, want to fight these fearsome brigands for your new friends?¡± I stress the word personally. He clears his throat and takes a large step away from Lanston. Have to give the other boy credit, he simply sighs in exasperation but doesn¡¯t blame William for the decision.

    ¡°Marthe?¡±

    ¡°If this has nothing to do with us, can we get moving? I have things to do.¡±

    Saints. I know who my teammates are but Robert and his compatriots seem utterly confused by the callous disregard. Except Orphelia. She is simply watching the mounted team with a calculating gaze.

    ¡°Alana?¡± Robert asks, giving her an imploring look. Since when the hell are they that close?

    She looks between him and the other team¡¯s leader, who flashes her a tired smile. Then she sighs and removes her hand from her sword.

    ¡°I once told you that chivalry is not a pass to stick your nose into everyone¡¯s problems. I don¡¯t know what grudge this man bears toward you but it certainly has nothing to do with my team. We made no agreements to escort you from the Sanctuary and you are not helpless children. Settle whatever this is between yourselves.¡±

    ¡°Or offer us more gold,¡± I say.

    Robert turns to me, expression twisted in righteous fury. ¡°You are a truly disgusting woman.¡±

    Luckily, Sebas has more sense than this idiot. ¡°A hundred crowns!¡±

    ¡°Ah, damn it,¡± the mounted leader says. ¡°Two hundred.¡±

    ¡°Three!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to win a bidding war with a noble,¡± one of the mounted leader¡¯s teammates offers. ¡°At least, not with gold.¡±

    ¡°I agree with your boy there,¡± I say. ¡°You better offer me something spectacular.¡±

    ¡°Er, alright.¡± He motions me to come near. Completely unthreatened by the thought of walking into the midst of five possibly hostile initiates, I do so, stopping beside his horse with a raised brow. This better be good. Staring up at him is starting to get on my nerves.

    ¡°What if I told you I could get you a night with the most famous courtesan in all of Harvest? This isn¡¯t something that can be bought with gold.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re bribing me with sex?¡± I ask incredulously.

    ¡°Clearly, you¡¯ve never been to a high-end brothel. It¡¯s more than sex. It¡¯s an experience. One that has compromised the judgment of kings and sundered nations. I promise you, you won¡¯t be disappointed.¡±

    I stare at him. I¡¯m highly doubtful this woman is as amazing as he claims, at least to me, but I am impressed at his daring. Really, I find the whole situation amusing, which makes me partial toward this ballsy stranger.

    ¡°Deal, but it can¡¯t be anytime soon. I have things to do.¡± And a future saint to seduce before being distracted by another prize, if this courtesan is as amazing as he thinks she is.

    ¡°Great. That works for me. It would take some time to arrange anyway.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and I still want the gold.¡±

    He groans. ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°What kind of leader do you think I am, taking all the rewards for myself? Otherwise, I can simply take the offer of the royal fool and make good on my teammate¡¯s threat.¡±

    ¡°Saints¡¯ blessed asses. Alright, fine. You¡¯re kind of brutal.¡±

    ¡°Blame my wife.¡±

    I step away from him and walk toward the others with a grin. Several gazes watch me with growing apprehension as I intentionally draw out the moment.

    ¡°We¡¯ve settled on fifty gold crowns and a favor.¡±

    ¡°Bitch!¡± Sebas snaps.

    I have an urge to break his jaw but hold back. ¡°I¡¯m going to let that slide as I think someone might take exception to me injuring one of you before you fight for your futures.¡± I glance at Alana. ¡°William, Arthur, back of the blankets. Geo, the front if you would. Let¡¯s get moving.¡±

    Sebas stares hatefully as my team lifts our treasure heap. His eyes glow and for a moment, I think he¡¯s going to do something stupid, but Robert stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Enough. We cannot force others to do what we think is right. As Alana said, we are not helpless.¡± He turns to look at the mounted team. ¡°If they want to face us in combat, then we will gladly meet them.¡±

    ¡°Want is a strong word,¡± the leader says with another sigh.

    Not that it¡¯s my problem anymore. Our position made clear, my team walks away from the confrontation. At least for a few minutes. Then I call them to a stop and turn to watch.

    As if I¡¯d miss something so entertaining.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-87

    ¡°Tough break.¡±

    Robert sneered at the mounted leader, all the while trying desperately to place the man. Nothing came to mind, which wasn¡¯t a surprise. He remembered few faces from his training. Most of his teaching came from personal instruction. The only time he saw other students was for spars. Sometimes, he fought squires from the orders in the capital. Those fights could get heated but he couldn¡¯t remember any hostility. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±

    ¡°I told you, my teacher¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do not take me for a fool. No knight would be so petty.¡±

    The mounted man chuckled. ¡°What do you think knights are? They¡¯re just men, friend. Men with deadly skills, shiny armor, and big egos.¡±

    Robert frowned. ¡°You realize you insult your teacher.¡±

    ¡°My teacher¡¯s a cunt.¡± With a swing of his leg, he easily dismounted his horse. One of his teammates grabbed the mount¡¯s reins to keep it from following its owner as he stepped forward. ¡°But he¡¯s all I got so I do what he says, even bullying children.¡±

    ¡°Who are you calling a child?¡± Sebas snapped.

    ¡°Look, guys. And er, girls. This doesn¡¯t have to be hard, yeah? I was only told to sabotage you during the test. That doesn¡¯t mean anyone has to be hurt. Leave the monster corpses and walk away.¡±

    Robert shook his head. ¡°You make it sound like you¡¯re giving us a choice.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a test, not the end of the kingdom. Sure, it¡¯ll be embarrassing and your teacher might slap your wrist but we both know they value you all too much to let you waste another year as initiates.¡±

    ¡°Enough talk. If it is a duel you want, then a duel you shall have.¡± He stepped forward, hyper aware that he didn¡¯t have his sword with him. Belatedly, he thought he should have asked Alana for her blade. It wasn¡¯t what he was used to but it would have been better than nothing. While her allegiances could be called into question, her honor was impeccable. She wouldn¡¯t let him face danger unarmed if he asked for her help. ¡°I am Robert Quintana. Let us have an honorable contest.¡±

    ¡°Quintana, right.¡± The enemy team leader put his hand on his chest and bowed shallowly. ¡°Ethor, son of Ethein. A humble caster and a small stone on the road of the kingdom¡¯s future hero. I hope you don¡¯t hold this against me once you¡¯ve slain your first dragon.¡±

    For someone who described himself as humble, he seemed assured of his victory. Robert wondered if it was because he overestimated himself or underestimated him.

    ¡°And you¡¯ve misunderstood. I didn¡¯t step forward for a duel. Your whole team is welcome to attack me. Whenever you¡¯re ready.¡±

    Robert gaped, searching for any sign of deception in the other man¡¯s dark eyes or placid features. He found none, hesitatingly concluding that Ethor was serious. His face flushed with a mix of rage and embarrassment as he opened his mouth to scold the other man but he was interrupted by the hiss of a fireball. Ethor jumped out of its path, the attack scorching the ground where he had stood.

    Robert turned and saw Cecile standing with her hand raised and eyes aglow. ¡°What?¡± she snapped. ¡°He said he wanted to fight all of us. I am not going to be the first Guiness to fail the damn initiate year!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡ª¡± His rebuke was cut off by her scream of pain. He briefly saw a glint of metal sticking out of her leg before she dropped to a knee. A wall of earth formed around her and Robert turned back to Ethor. His opponent held two knives, causally tossing one into the air and catching it by its hilt.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re paying attention. Good. Wouldn¡¯t want anyone saying I didn¡¯t give you a fair chance. I¡ª¡± He ducked and threw himself to the side as three daggers of ice flew through the space he¡¯d previously occupied, expertly throwing one of his knives.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Orphelia was just as quick to move. Dropping the five corpses next to Cecile, a high-powered stream of water shot toward Ethor, following him as he moved away from it and tearing up the ground in its wake.

    ¡°Will you get with the program, Bobby?¡± Sebas snapped as he cast his own spell. Ethor¡¯s features twisted as he found himself frozen in place. Several pieces of metal emerged from beneath his robe, melting together and reforming into a circular shield that deflected the stream of water.

    Two more plates emerged, separating into six small blades that launched themselves at Sebas. Lanston jumped in front of him and threw up another wall of earth. The daggers merged mid-flight and changed shape, forming a cone with spiral grooves. It spun as it met the wall, taking only a moment to punch through the earth. It cut into Lanston¡¯s side before sinking into the ground. He bore the injury with grit teeth, eyes focused as he waited for the next attack.

    Seeing two of his teammates injured, Robert pushed aside his doubts and decided to act. He took in the situation, comparing it to the many drills his teacher had put him through. His greatest advantage was his versatility. With four affinities, the sheer breath of options at his disposal made him impossible to counter. Better, it made his ability to synergize with his team unrivaled.

    Seeing the cone with spiral grooves rising from the ground, he used a strong blast of wind to push it further away. Distance variables could eat away a caster¡¯s mana. Ethor would have no choice but to give up on the metal and a metal caster without metal was as dangerous as a kitten without claws. Each piece he lost cut into his strength.

    Seeing the water cast off from Orphelia¡¯s spell, he used the excess for his own spell. Water rose from the ground, slowly morphing into needles and freezing into icy projectiles. Too slowly.

    Another metal plate slipped from Ethor¡¯s robe, transforming into a circle with teeth on its edge. Robert poured more mana into his spell to hurry it along. The icy needles launched themselves at Ethor as his metal circle swept around him, shattering the ones aimed for his upper body. The ones that made it through bounced off him with no effect.

    ¡°Is that all you have?¡± The circle of metal spun toward Orphelia. A thin icicle hit it from underneath. knocking the metal off course. Ethor whistled. ¡°Damn. Sure you¡¯re not Sir Quintana¡¯s disciple?¡±

    ¡°Never met the man in my life,¡± she lied. Her stream of water transformed. It lost pressure as the end of it turned into an icy maw of an unrecognizable beast, the water forming a serpentine body. It rose over the metal shield and rushed toward Ethor.

    The shield moved to meet it but Orphelia maneuvered her spell around it in a masterful display of skill. The jaws grabbed Ethor¡¯s leg and clamped down. They failed to close, meeting resistance, but the tail of water wrapped around him like a snake and constricted. Ethor grunted.

    ¡°A metal caster will always be armored,¡± she said blandly as Ethor¡¯s face reddened with strain. ¡°Robert, a little assistance locking him in place? Sebas will run out of mana soon.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡± Robert pulled the water from the ground and focused it on the earth beneath Ethor¡¯s feet, conjuring more when he saw it was insufficient for his goal. The metal caster sank into the mud. When it was up to his calves, Robert pulled the moisture from the ground and hardened it.

    ¡°Thank the saints,¡± Sebas swore as he dropped his spell. Lanston reached out an arm to steady him as he stumbled but the royal shoved him off. ¡°I¡¯m fine! We¡¯ve got four more targets.¡±

    ¡°Our current one isn¡¯t quite down,¡± Orphelia said. ¡°I would appreciate it if you children would take this seriously. Robert, take him down.¡±

    His hands balled into fists as he considered her tone. ¡°Ethor, you have lost. Surrender.¡±

    ¡°Hey, hey.¡± Despite the watery binds and his trapped feet, their opponent seemed relaxed. ¡°I might not have expected you to be travelling with an undercover higher adept, at the very least, but I¡¯ve hardly lost.¡±

    The round shield smashed the icy head of Orphelia¡¯s spell. Then it split into dozens of pieces, miniature versions of the spiral-grooved cone that punched through Lanston¡¯s earth wall like a knife through paper. ¡°Sorry bout this. I¡¯m not as nice as you.¡±

    ¡°Are you planning to kill us?¡± Orphelia said in a cold voice.

    ¡°Ah, you guys are tough. Besides, one of my guys is a decent healer.¡± The metal projectiles separated. At a glance, Robert assumed there were six aimed for each of them. ¡°You¡¯ll live¡­probably.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± Sebas shouted.

    Lanston raised a large stone and launched it at Ethor. It broke apart before it reached him, crumbling to dust.

    ¡°Earth comes before metal, yeah?¡± he said with a chuckle as the earth trapping his feet flowed away like water. ¡°Maybe you guys do need another initiate year.¡±

    Robert knew he could stop him. All it would take was a strong fireball to force him to use that metal to defend himself. However, with Ethor¡¯s skill, he would have to use everything he had. Fire couldn¡¯t be thrown around lightly and metal would make a poor defense against intense heat. If his opponent failed to defend correctly, he could die.

    Robert hesitated.

    Ethor launched his spell.

    The world went dark.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-88

    Many times throughout her training, Orphelia experienced moments when the world seemed to slow down. Her father explained that it was her body reacting to extreme danger, pushing itself to the limit of its abilities. Rather than danger, as she was never motivated by fear, she likened the moments to her subconscious recognizing crossroads, moments where her next decision would affect the rest of her life.

    It happened the first time she killed someone in training. The first time she snuck into a troublesome noble¡¯s home to slit his throat. The night she stood over her slumbering father with a blade in-hand, having slipped past his guards for the first time.

    As she saw Ethor prepare his spell, she felt a chill go down her spine as her thoughts sharpened. She took in every detail; the deadly pieces of metal, Robert¡¯s hesitation, her allies¡¯ exhaustion, and the remaining four enemies. She pondered the chances that the spell was a bluff as opposed to a serious threat.

    If she failed to defend them and the attack proved fatal, there would be consequences. If she acted to defend them and showed her abilities, there would also be consequences but she would be acting according to her assignment. Her father would punish her but if she let her charges die, she would undoubtedly share the same fate.

    She decided to act but then came the matter of restraint. If Ethor was to be believed, he was acting on behalf of a knight that could rival Sir Quintana, a giant amongst the casters of the capital. Was it a bluff? Some irate man¡¯s delusion? Ethor certainly had the skill to add validation to his claim. If she slaughtered someone¡¯s disciples while they were pranking fellow disciples, people would be¡­upset.

    This was the part of her occupation that she hated. Putting a knife into someone¡¯s chest was simple. Balancing the different interests surrounding a person¡¯s life is where things became complicated. She couldn¡¯t just do her job because, at the end of the day, she was responsible for her life, not her employers. Certainly not her father, who made it clear that if she failed, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to throw her to the wolves.

    [Poor Orphie. The prodigious daughter. You should have been lauded for your talents. Instead, ambitious parents consigned you to darkness.]

    She recognized the whisper of the thrall. I do not have time to entertain you.

    [You have all the time I will allow.]

    Orphelia focused on her senses and saw that her surroundings were at a standstill, as if time was truly frozen. An awe-inspiring use of the mental affinity. She had heard of a spell that could produce what she was seeing, a special tactic used by the most talented interrogators to break even the hardiest of criminals. A strong will could hold out against their questioning for days and weeks. A supreme will could hold out for months or years. No one lasted decades. Even the thought of such a punishment broke them.

    It occurred to her that this wasn¡¯t a reported ability of the Grimoire thralls.

    [It always amuses me how races of fledgling intelligence believe they know everything. You cannot fathom the secrets of Burning Earth.]

    You¡­you¡¯re different. She had spent time with the thrall, engaged in simple conversation. She laughed and smiled as the creature asked her about her time at the Hall. In turn, she asked about her cooking and experience as a contracted elemental under Lourianne Tome. Harmless talk on the surface while they both probed each other for information.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The coy tone had turned derisive and mocking. She could almost see the unusual pink eyes watching her, narrowed in contempt.

    [Yes, I am not the big-eyed innocent creature I present to be. A shocking development.]

    No need to be sarcastic. I suppose the question is why you are holding me hostage within my own mind.

    [How ungrateful.]

    Orphelia reflected. Too many lost their lives to the wrong decision made in the split-second afforded in combat. She had the leeway to have a conversation and build her spells without pressure. I apologize. I meant, to what do I owe the pleasure of your voice in my head?

    [A lesson for you. It is much harder to use false charm when someone is in your mind. But we have more important matters to discuss. I would like to offer you a chance to change allegiances. Serve me and I will deliver to you what you secretly desire.]

    I have no secret desires. She knew exactly what she wanted out of life. Her safety and enough wealth to enjoy her hopefully long life. Wetwork wasn¡¯t very safe but she wouldn¡¯t be a knife in the dark forever and it did pay very well. Better, she collected secrets and favors that would serve as shields against her compatriots when she became more of a liability than an asset.

    [Then let me tell you what you desire Orphelia Yemen. More than wealth. More than a long life. More than power, either magical or political.]

    Orphelia felt a touch of unease as the thrall¡¯s voice echoed through her mind. Suddenly, as the creature¡¯s mind bore down on her own, she felt incredibly small and fragile. She knew that if the creature wanted, her mind would be crushed.

    [You desire¡­family.]

    The revelation stunned her. Then it made her laugh.

    Family! As if there was anything more useless in all the world. Her father had unilaterally decided the path of her life for his own benefit. Her mother had bandaged her wounds without batting an eye and sent her back to her tormentors. Her siblings had struck her from their thoughts, happy enough to benefit from her actions without caring about the quality of her life.

    The creature thought she wanted a family? Families were burdens. Everything she did, every life she took, every pain she endured, was to escape her family. You may read my thoughts but, in the end, you understand little about people.

    [I understand more than you know. Hate is not the opposite of love. It is its mirror. You cannot truly hate if you do not know love.]

    I do not love my family. I feel nothing for them. They are my employers, nothing more.

    [Nothing, you say. Then why did you sneak into your father¡¯s bedroom with a blade?]

    ¡­I was young then.

    [Young and¡­emotional, hm?]

    As most children are. With age and experience came perspective. I wouldn¡¯t repeat the action again. There would be no point.

    [Yes, there would be no point. He could be bound by his wrists and ankles with his neck exposed and you still would not be able to kill him.]

    If it ever became necessary, I wouldn¡¯t hesitate. Just as I¡¯ve never hesitated before. Enough with your games. I owe my allegiance to myself. Release me and allow me to get on with my work.

    [Are you in a position to order me?]

    Will you kill me? You know that will bring attention to you. You are at my mercy.

    [Oh?]

    You made a mistake revealing your abilities. I am beginning to doubt you are a simple thrall but even if you are, with your ability to use this spell, the crown will be incredibly interested in you. Luckily, I believe you and your summoner have more worth than as a paycheck for delivering you to the interrogators.

    The creature laughed. [Yes, you will do nicely. It is time for your first lesson in working under me. I am the master. Accept me and you will rise to great heights. Refuse, and you will face unimaginable consequences.]

    You will not harm me.

    [I will not injure you, no. I do not blame you for your ignorance. As an assassin, you equate threats to bodily harm. My pretty blade, there are a myriad of ways to harm someone without touching a hair on their head. Observe.]

 ARC 5-Qualifiers-89

    As the creature ordered, Orphelia observed. She had no choice as her thoughts scrambled, the spells she¡¯d formed forcefully pulled beyond her reach, accompanied by a pounding headache. Ethor launched his spell. At the same time, Robert, Cecile, and Lanston dropped to the ground, their eyes rolled up into their heads.

    Sebas alone was left standing. His attention was on the fallen form of Lanston as several pieces of metal hit him. One drilled through his skull, splattering gore as it blew out the back of his head. His corpse wobbled before falling forward.

    WHAT DID YOU DO?!

    Dead. One of her charges was a corpse. Not the scholar who no one would miss or the expendable granddaughter but someone who was blood to the king. The skies should have rumbled with thunder to herald the death of a royal. Instead, the moment was punctuated by an eerie silence.

    ¡°Oi¡­I didn¡¯t do that.¡± Ethor¡¯s gaze was glued to Sebas¡¯ corpse. ¡°I didn¡¯t do that! My spell was aimed for his legs. I didn¡¯t put a fucking hole in his head!¡±

    His teammates hurried over, one of them throwing the reins to his horse at him. ¡°Why are you standing there like an idiot? We have to get out of here!¡±

    The fear in his voice snapped the murderer from his fugue. As he reached for the reins of his steed, the world slowed down once again.

    [Consequences, as promised.]

    Did you affect the trajectory of the spell? Did you kill him?

    [I didn¡¯t kill the royal. I did save the others. You should be thanking me. Imagine the fallout if all your charges were slain.]

    Orphelia felt sick at the thought. She would be a dead woman walking. That didn¡¯t make her current situation good. The blood of the king had been spilled. Only blood could appease his anger. Unless¡­

    You. Thralls have the physical affinity. You can save him.

    [Are you asking if I can? Perhaps, though restoring him to full health might be tricky. Brains are delicate things. I won¡¯t even be attempting though.]

    Why?! Do you not understand what that corpse means? There will be a reckoning, for all of us. Including your summoner.

    [I don¡¯t think so. Neither my summoner nor I killed the boy. We aren¡¯t the ones charged with protecting him.]

    I¡¯ll tell them about you.

    [Please do. Tell them that Lourianne Tome has within her employ a powerful thrall. Raise her value to the crown further.]

    I¡¯ll tell them that you let him die.

    [It¡¯s not commendable but we have no obligation to save people.]

    I¡¯ll tell them that you hindered me and stopped me from saving him!

    [Did I? Was I the reason that you weren¡¯t fast enough to save the boy? Or mayhap you froze.]

    I didn¡¯t freeze!

    [It¡¯s perfectly understandable. It was a stressful situation. You had far too many interests to consider and it slowed your reaction. You are still young and, despite what you may think, inexperienced. They will not blame you¡­much. It¡¯s not as if you can prove otherwise. There will be no evidence, my pretty blade. Not even your head interrogator will be able to detect any influence on your mind.]

    She didn¡¯t know if she believed the creature¡¯s claims to be capable of avoiding detection from the kingdom¡¯s strongest mental caster but that didn¡¯t change her situation. A member of the royal family had died while under her protection. There would be consequences. Dire ones.

    Her mind whirled as she tried to find a solution, some way to mitigate the fallout, but it was fruitless. She didn¡¯t know what to do.

    [Where is your confidence now, Orphelia Yemen?]

    You¡­are a monster.

    [No. I am powerful. When you are the strongest, no one may judge you. They don¡¯t dare. The same as you will never dare to dismiss me again.]

    No, she wouldn¡¯t. She couldn¡¯t afford to if she managed to find a way out of this mess.

    [Once more, I will offer you the choice. Join me.]

    You may not be a monster but you are insane. Why would I ever swear allegiance to you? You¡¯ve ruined my life.

    [Simple. You will join me and you dedicate yourself to me because as easily as I have torn your life apart, I can repair it. I can make you greater than you could ever imagine. I will give you what you desire most.]

    Orphelia wavered.

    [Or you can face the wrath of the king alone.]

    She cracked.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Orphelia swore she could feel the creature¡¯s smug satisfaction at her surrender. [Good, let¡¯s begin.]

    What¡­should I do?

    [You don¡¯t know? I thought it would be obvious to a blade. Slaughter them.] The creature chuckled as she mentally flinched away from the order. [Do you think anyone will listen to a thing you have to say if you allow the killers to go free? I would kill them all but at the very least, the one named Ethor cannot live.]

    I can¡¯t.

    [You are worried about your secrets being exposed. Don¡¯t. I already know what you¡¯re hiding.]

    Cold dread twisted her stomach. How? I¡ª

    [Your paltry training against attacks on the mind could not keep me out. You trained to recognize the blows of a buffoon with a hammer. I am beyond your greatest masters. Your secrets may as well have drifted from your mind and into my hand like a feather carried by a soft breeze. I know everything about you, Orphelia Yemen. Let me tell you something you need to hear. You are not special.

    [Oh, you are above the apes that compromise most of your species but you are by no means exceptional. Neither is that innocent puppy who wants to be a hero. On this realm alone, there are beings to whom you are nothing but ants. Beyond this realm? Gods walk, little girl. Gods. Your secret is worth nothing. Keeping it is certainly not worth the consequences, of which include my displeasure. Once more. Kill them all.]

    Orphelia¡¯s eyes glowed as she channeled mana and released a spell. The enemy team exclaimed as darkness spread around them. True darkness, where they couldn¡¯t see their hands held in front of their faces. The horses panicked, neighing in fear and shuffling about.

    As the team tried to soothe their panicking mounts, Orphelia ran toward them while casting two more spells. Over her eyes, she created a film of mana that would filter light, protecting them. At the same time, a large ball of white light appeared over her enemies. As they all instinctively looked at the reprieve from the darkness, it detonated, burning with a radiance that made the sun seem like a candle before winking out.

    Men and horse alike screamed in pain. The riders were thrown from their mounts as they ran off, one unfortunate man screaming again as his leg was trampled by the beasts. All her targets lie prone. Vulnerable.

    Yet, their training showed. They fought through the pain and each of them formed a shell of their elements to protect them from the unseen danger. One of water, two of flame, one of howling wind, and a metal shell around the man who murdered her charge and put her in this position.

    It was too bad the defenses meant nothing to her.

    With her targets remaining still, she took her time forming her spell. The singular spell that had survived from the time of the first saint, given to the blades wielded by the crown. A power that not even dragons could ignore.

    Seconds later, four thin beams of intense light shot from her raised hand. The two fire casters and the wind caster died immediately, their elements doing nothing to protect them. Ethor lived seconds longer as her attack burned through the metal, his curses growing shriller as his metal shell heated up and was pierced.

    Orphelia slowly approached her victims, starting with Ethor. His metal shell remained but the hole she burnt into it still smoked. The disgustingly enticingly smell of cooked flesh drifted to her. She felt reasonably assured that he was dead without prying his shell off and moved on, checking the others.

    After confirming their deaths, she made her way to the shell of water. The woman who cast it cried inside. The pitiful sounds meant nothing to Orphelia as she cast a spell to move away the shell. Her mana drained from her as she stole control of the water.

    Her enemy wailed, thrashing her limbs uselessly at the enemy she couldn¡¯t see. Orphelia palmed a dagger and plunged it into her neck, silencing her. Thin fingers grasped the arm of her robe as the woman choked on her own blood.

    The spell over her eyes had the second function of allowing her to see in the dome of darkness she¡¯d created. Orphelia stared at the wide, desperate gaze of her victim for a moment. Then she pulled her sleeve free and turned her back on them. As she walked away, the darkness fell, revealing a clear blue sky.

    [Very good. Killing is easy. It takes a strong heart to stare your victim in the eye as they slip away.]

    I told you, I never hesitate. The creature was right. Whether he intended to or not, Ethor had killed one of her charges. She would have killed him regardless of the creature¡¯s order. What concerned her was the cleanup. I suppose I do need to thank you. This would be infinitely more complicated if the others had been awake.

    [Never doubt me. I am not infallible but humans are not my equal, not even close.]

    Then what shall I be doing next, master?

    [Enjoy your sarcasm. Soon, it will become sincerity. What do you believe you should do next?]

    I thought you gave the orders.

    [If I wanted a braindead husk of meat, I needn¡¯t bother recruiting you. There will be times where I will not be able to give you orders. So, you will learn to think. Expand your sight to see not how to complete a mission but how to progress an agenda. What is your goal?]

    To not die for letting Sebas die.

    [Too small. Think bigger. What do you want?]

    ¡­to face no consequences from this but that is impossible.

    [It seems we must also address your definition of impossible. It is simple. People will come looking for someone to blame. You simply need to make sure that they do not blame you.]

    How could they not? I was meant to protect him.

    [They understand that even with protection, people die. You must make them see that the circumstances were beyond your control. How could you know that a knight would send assassins disguised as initiates to kill your charges? Fighting off five assassins is too much for a single defender when fully prepared, let alone caught off guard.]

    You¡­

    [The Hall admits all who seek excellence in spellcrafting but it is a bit too much to allow treasonous rebels to walk amongst the heirs of the kingdom. How intriguing the Hall created a test without the presence of instructors and agreed to allow you as your group¡¯s grader.]

    ¡­

    [Not to mention the embarrassing display of your charges. They are meant to be the future of the kingdom, Dunwayne¡¯s successor amongst them, and yet they faint at the first sign of serious combat. Deplorable. What was their teacher doing? Did Sir Quintana teach Robert anything at all? Or were all those years of training a pony show to appease the crown while he crippled one of their greatest assets?]

    With a few sentences, her failure had been transformed into a conspiracy. She had failed, yes, but only because everyone before her had failed. Two reputable knights were painted as traitors, the creature preyed on the crown¡¯s hidden fear that the Hall would one day balk the king¡¯s authority, and the blame of Sebas¡¯ death was pushed onto his own teammates.

    For the first time in a long time, Orphelia felt twinge of fear. A strong enemy was a problem. A cunning enemy that could so easily prey on the insecurities of men was a disaster. If the creature¡¯s claims that its mental affinity exceeded that of the head interrogator proved true, the kingdom could be facing the greatest threat since the man-mutating horror Aggro.

    Yet, mixed with the fear was excitement. Right now, she had the opportunity to ride the colossal wave headed for Harvest before it drowned the crown. A loyal daughter would do everything she could to warn her father about the impending disaster heading for them.

    But, as she said, her loyalty lay solely with herself.

    [Good. Now, let¡¯s wake up the children. They have their own part to play.]

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-90

    ¡°Well¡­fuck.¡±

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Alana echoes. Then she dashes off.

    I don¡¯t know what she thinks she¡¯s going to accomplish. Ethor and his team are quite obviously dead. So is Sebas. No coming back from your brains leaking out of your skull. Besides, she¡¯s not going to heal anyone with the light affinity.

    And it would seem she¡¯s not the only one with the coveted power of the sun. My already substantial shock seeing Sebas die was by far overwhelmed by my shock seeing a dome of darkness engulf the two teams. When people think of the light affinity, they think of a more elegant fire affinity. More heat and more precision with less cost.

    They don¡¯t tend to think of someone swallowing the light. There is something incredibly disturbing about a place with color and detail being washed away by a darkness deeper than the darkest night. It¡¯s almost as if a part of the world was simply erased.

    I have to learn how to do that.

    In the meantime, I race after Alana. I slow down as I catch up to her. She initially heads for Sebas but once she¡¯s close enough to see the damage, she turns for the other team. It doesn¡¯t take long for her to conclude they¡¯re dead. She lingers on the thin metal cocoon I can logically assume Ethor is in. Using the same logic, I doubt Orphelia left him alive.

    As she conducts her examination, Orphelia¡¯s team wakes up with a chorus of groans. The injured Cecile remains on the ground, whimpering as a hand hovers over her injured leg. Lanston is woozy, pausing on his hands and knees as he sucks down deep breaths.

    Mr. Talented manages to get his feet under him, though he wobbles. He blinks rapidly, blank gaze slowly gaining focus. He zeroes in on Orphelia. More specifically, the blood on her robe. ¡°Orphie!¡± His first step is shaky but he quickly regains his strength, hurrying over to her. His hands grab her shoulders as he looks her over, a sigh relaxing his tense shoulders when he doesn¡¯t discover any obvious injuries. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    She glares at him, long enough for him to become uncomfortable. He drops his hands and clears his throat awkwardly. Her glare transforms into a sneer.

    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine, no thanks to you. I told you to drop him. Why didn¡¯t you do anything?¡±

    ¡°¡­that would have been an escalation. As the disciple of a knight, he is a future comrade. Throwing a spell with my full power behind it could have killed him.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think something so simple needed to be explained but here goes. When casters, no, when anything fights another being, one party is likely be injured. They may be killed. Your goal is to not be the injured party, the same as your opponent. It is exceedingly rare that no one is injured in a fight. That is why you don¡¯t hesitate, Bobby. Because if you refuse to hurt them, they will certainly hurt you.¡±

    She raises a hand and turns his cheek. At first, he doesn¡¯t know what he¡¯s supposed to be seeing, brows furrowing in confusion. Then he looks down and freezes.

    She leaves him staring at Sebas¡¯ corpse and moves toward Lanston, who is also staring at the fallen royal. ¡°Up.¡± She grabs him under the arm when he doesn¡¯t respond. Her urging gets him to his feet and she shoves him in Cecile¡¯s direction before walking over to me.

    Alana hurries over, standing beside me with her hand on her blade. Orphelia glances at her and scoffs before returning her attention to me. I feel my lips twitch to follow hers as she flashes a perfectly crafted smile that doesn¡¯t reach her cold eyes. Saints, there is something wrong with this woman.

    ¡°I apologize if any of that made you uncomfortable, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m worried for you. One of your teammates was just murdered.¡± Under very suspicious circumstances. I heard Ethor¡¯s shouted denials the moment before the dome of darkness swallowed him. His panic sounded real. Not to mention the fortuitous fainting of everyone besides Sebas. It all felt¡­staged.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s a problem. To think assassins would disguise themselves as initiates.¡±

    My gaze narrows. If Ethor was an assassin, he was a saints blessed genius. I didn¡¯t feel a lick of aggression when he declared his intention to rob them. Not a hint of bloodlust. His heart rate didn¡¯t spike, he didn¡¯t smell of anxiety. He seemed genuinely annoyed, just like an apprentice sent on an errand by his master. ¡°Daring assassins.¡±

    ¡°Truly. What is the kingdom coming to?¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± We both turn to Alana who is watching Orphelia with grit teeth. ¡°You just murdered five people.¡±

    ¡°For good reason. They assassinated a member of the royal family. If you were not aware, the punishment for treason is death.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know that. One caster delivered the fatal blow. The others weren¡¯t even involved in the fight.¡±

    ¡°I would think you¡¯d know that distance is not enough to hamper a competent caster. Besides, they tried to help the perpetrator flee. I believe that made their guilt clear.¡±

    ¡°They were afraid! As they clearly had every right to be.¡± Her grip on her sword tightens. ¡°The king¡¯s laws still exist even when there is no one around to enforce them. Criminals are to be apprehended, judged, and sentenced. Not summarily executed.¡±

    ¡°Are you calling me a criminal, Alana James? Are you going to apprehend me?¡±

    ¡°I have a mind to.¡±

    They stare at each other, Orphelia¡¯s smile fading. ¡°I wonder how you would have done as me.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend. With the speed you arrived, you were watching the battle. You saw my second affinity.¡±

    ¡°¡­light.¡±

    ¡°Yes, the coveted light affinity. The magic of the first saint and many saints that followed. The blessed affinity. But inseparable from the light is darkness. Something the kingdom has far more use for.¡± Alana holds her gaze as Orphelia leans forward. ¡°You may hate your father but you should be thankful you were born a James daughter. They have no need for blades in the dark in their pointless war and the king wouldn¡¯t dare lay his hands on Fort Victory.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying¡­you are employed by the kingdom?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s say I am not concerned about being detained and tried. Now.¡± She turns back to me. ¡°I would like to keep moving but that will be difficult with my team¡¯s injuries. Could I trouble your thrall for some healing?¡±

    ¡°¡­sure thing.¡± Geneva walks off with a swing of her tail. ¡°Hey, is anyone else going to try and kill you?¡±

    ¡°I would say no but today has been full of surprises.¡±

    Fair. ¡°Stick close to us and let¡¯s get out of here.¡± I may not care about them but they look pitiful. Especially Mr. Talented. At some point, he wandered closer to his friend and is staring at the corpse with an empty gaze. Cecile and Lanston have just been healed but they are clearly exhausted. I doubt they could put up a fight if someone attacked them now.

    Well, I guess it depends on how much mana Orphelia has. Seeing as she¡¯s not even sweating, they could be just fine.

    But Orphelia isn¡¯t going to pass on the escort. ¡°How kind~ You have my thanks, Lou. Let me grab my team. Ah, could I also trouble you for one of your blankets? I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ll have to take the corpse with us.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± I look over my shoulder, to where I left the rest of my team. Arthur may be a disgusting dog of a man but he can follow orders. His job is to protect William and Marthe. He might have been able to keep up with Alana and I as we dashed off but knowing they couldn¡¯t, he stuck behind to do his job, protecting them and our points.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    I look down at Bell. ¡°Grab one of them for me.¡± The imp dashes off, soon to return with a rolled-up blanket held in her tail. I pass it to Orphelia.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t trust her,¡± Alana says as Orphelia walks toward the dead royal. She claps Robert on the shoulder, silently telling him to move. When that doesn¡¯t work, she shoves him. He stumbles and falls, but it¡¯s still not enough to snap him out of his fugue, his eyes never leaving Sebas, even as he¡¯s covered with a blanket.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty clear she¡¯s not trustworthy,¡± I remark with a hint of amusement as the woman rolls up the body without a hint of disgust.

    ¡°If I ask for your help detaining her, will you?¡±

    ¡°What kind of question is that? Of course I will.¡± If for no other reason than to protect you. Orphelia has far more practice with her light affinity, a gap Alana¡¯s sword may not be able to bridge. Never mind her second affinity. ¡°But I would really rather we not get involved.¡±

    ¡°I understand that you are close to her¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hold on.¡± I step in front of her, forcing her to focus on me as I glower at her. ¡°That has nothing to do with this. Not wanting to draw the crown¡¯s attention after someone¡¯s killed a member of the royal family is common sense. Despite that, I said I would help you. I¡¯m telling you not to get involved for your sake. It¡¯s not your job to right every wrong.¡±

    ¡°And what if I want to?¡± she snaps. ¡°I can¡¯t pretend I don¡¯t care. People died, Lou. That¡¯s not something you ignore.¡±

    I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh heavily. Damn future saint. ¡°We escort them to the gate. We make sure they stay there until someone with some authority comes. We do nothing else.¡± I can indulge her but I refuse to let her ride through the kingdom hunting for rebels and conspiracies.

    Alana¡¯s shoulders relax. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, got to spoil the wife. Even when she¡¯s dragging me into a crazy mess.¡±

    The serious atmosphere is destroyed as her face flushes pink. ¡°Who¡¯s your¡ªyou¡ªwait, what do you mean crazy mess? Lou!¡±

    I ignore her as I walk over to Orphelia.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-91

    ¡°Need a hand?¡± I ask the dual affinity water and light caster as I see her struggling to get a good grip on the rolled blanket. Wonder what other secrets she¡¯s hiding? And if it¡¯s worth finding them out.

    ¡°I could use a hand, yes.¡± She steps aside as I effortlessly grab the blanket and hoist it onto a shoulder, drops of blood and brain dropping from the jostling.

    ¡°Do you know how strong you are?¡±

    ¡°Hm. I can¡¯t put a number on it. I never aimed to lift a certain weight. My benchmark is being able to wrestle my wife, ha!¡±

    ¡°Wrestle?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s important. She gets physical, a lot.¡±

    ¡°Are you boasting, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Definitely.¡± We share a chuckle.

    ¡°¡­up.¡±

    A whisper of a voice draws my attention to Robert. His gaze is locked onto the blanket on my shoulder. ¡°You say something, hero?¡±

    Mr. Talented gets to his feet, hands balling into white-knuckled fists at his sides. ¡°¡­shut up,¡± he hisses with a little more volume. ¡°Why are you laughing? Sebas is dead!¡±

    I turn to Orphelia who is clearly exasperated. ¡°You want to¡­¡± She waves at me, giving me permission to handle his outburst. Someone else would be sympathetic at this moment. His friend is dead. He clearly doesn¡¯t have much experience with violence, at the very least violence between people, and is a decent person who is bothered by it.

    Unfortunately, I am not sympathetic or decent.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t laughing about your dead friend. Don¡¯t take your anger out on me, I¡¯m not the one who killed him.¡±

    ¡°You¡­you left us. For a few gold crowns, you stood aside as my friend was murdered.¡± His tone is steadily becoming more spiteful, his eyes narrowed in a deep glare.

    ¡°Yes, I left you all to defend yourselves from your problems. How despicable.¡± I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t know he wanted to kill someone¡ª¡± Which I still don¡¯t think he did. ¡°¡ªbut even if I did know, what does that have to do with me? Absolutely nothing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sick!¡± he shouts. ¡°What kind of person leaves someone to die?!¡±

    I rub my brow. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m going to be a little considerate here seeing as your friend¡¯s brain was just blown out of his head. Go ahead and blame me if it makes you feel better. I won¡¯t even leave your ass behind for the next assassin or clumsy caster or hungry monster to pick off. But if you¡¯re going to blame me, you may as well cast stones at everyone else.

    ¡°Blame Cecile for being weak. Blame Lanston for being the inferior earth caster. Blame Orphelia, who just saved your ass and killed your friend¡¯s murderer, for not doing it faster. Blame the enemy team. Blame the saints themselves for not descending to save you in your hour of need!¡±

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    I pause to let the ridiculousness of my words sink in. ¡°Anything it takes to keep from blaming yourself.¡±

    ¡°This is not my fault!¡± he shouts.

    ¡°Cecile started the engagement. Lanston acted defensively. Sebas and Orphelia held your target in place. All you had to do, Mr. Four Affinities, what I presume your role in this team is, was throw all that talent at him. Instead, you dicked around with mud and ice and asked him not to hurt you oh so nicely.¡±

    He runs at me with a shout. It¡¯s so pitifully slow to my eyes. I catch his thrown fist and squeeze. He screams, dropping to one knee. I drop his hand. ¡°Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± She hurries over. In a flash, his broken wrist is healed. To my astonishment, Robert surges to his feet and strikes at me again, this time with a kick. I catch his leg and yank. There¡¯s a pop and he screams like a gutted pig as he drops.

    ¡°Where was all this aggression earlier?¡± I say with a chuckle. ¡°If you fought with half this fire, maybe I wouldn¡¯t have a corpse on my shoulder, heh.¡±

    The screaming and groans of pain transform into quiet sobs. I avert my eyes from his tears. Ugh. I know I¡¯m witnessing him at a vulnerable moment and I don¡¯t want to. There¡¯s no sympathy or urge to comfort him. Just the pressing desire to get away.

    Luckily, his friends are soon by his side. Cecile is also shedding tears, which is a bit of a surprise. Lanston¡¯s eyes are wet but he holds back the tears, comforting his friend with a grim frown.

    As Bell sets about healing Mr. Talented again, I turn back to Orphelia. ¡°When we get to the gate, I¡¯m going to need you to stick close to me until we get someone to sort this out.¡±

    She pouts. ¡°I¡¯m wounded, Lou. You don¡¯t believe in me, despite all we¡¯ve been through?¡±

    ¡°I could care less and would rather have nothing to do with this. However, Alana disagrees.¡± We both look over to the blonde who is moving amongst the other team. Is she robbing the corpses? Why is that the first thing I think of? She must be looking for tokens to prove our story as no one¡¯s dragging four corpses and a metal shell. Maybe something for the families if the bodies disappear from monster activity. That sounds like her.

    ¡°I see.¡± Orphelia¡¯s gaze is full of calculation. ¡°I didn¡¯t think your relationship with Lady James to be significant enough to sway your actions.¡±

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s significant.¡± Which means keep your hands off her. Don¡¯t pull us into whatever this is. ¡°Let¡¯s get going. I¡¯m not spending all day here.¡±

    Lanston and Cecile help Robert to his feet. He shoots me one more nasty glare before allowing them to lead him away. Sigh. Can¡¯t believe I was impressed by him for even a moment when I heard about his affinities. That boy is a walking disappointment, at least for now. Maybe the grief will give him some perspective once he¡¯s had a chance to process.

    I walk ahead of them, Alana keeping pace with me. When we reach the rest of our team, the three look between me and the blanket on my shoulder. I jostle my burden. ¡°Dead royal.¡±

    ¡°We know that,¡± Marthe hisses. ¡°I want to know why you¡¯re bringing that trouble near us.¡±

    ¡°Someone once shared priceless wisdom with me. Happy wife, happy life.¡±

    I fake a wince as Alana punches me in the side, grinning at her. Marthe groans and stomps off muttering, ¡°Fucking idiot, losing her mind over every woman who bats her eyes at her.¡±

    ¡°Oi oi, you sure about this captain?¡± Arthur asks. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about fighters who use darkness from my pops. We ain¡¯t supposed to know about them.¡±

    ¡°I have to agree with Arthur,¡± William says, nervously fiddling with his glasses. ¡°The death of a royal and a girl who hid her light affinity until she had to reap lives. It points to something we should avoid at all costs rather than invite to travel with us.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°I¡¯m not worried about myself. You may want to watch yourselves for a couple of days. Come on, grab our points. Geo, help them. We¡¯re done with this test.¡±

    ¡°Right you are, captain.¡±

    Why does he keep calling me that?

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-92

    The sky is drab and overcast as we finally reach the gate, reflecting our group¡¯s heavy mood. Robert understandably lagged behind, wanting to put distance between himself and the royal corpse on my shoulder. His friends joined him in a show of solidarity, taking on his quiet countenance.

    Orphelia sticks close to me but her attempts to create a friendly atmosphere drown in Alana¡¯s quiet contempt. I might have underestimated my friend¡¯s virtuous spirit. She is truly bothered by the slaughter she witnessed and will not be satisfied until she sees someone punished for it. Orphelia¡¯s disregard for her supposed impending punishment only sours her mood further, the future saint stomping forward, never taking her eyes off the killer for long.

    William and Marthe are not as bothered but they seem uncomfortable. The redhead more so than the skinny nobleman to my surprise. She actively avoids me, putting as many bodies between us as possible and never looking my way. I didn¡¯t take her for the squeamish type. William is less squeamish and more catatonic, walking stiffly as he does his best not to acknowledge the situation.

    Arthur is taking things the best, beside me. He looks¡­cheerful as he struggles with the blankets holding our haul, eyeing Geneva. No doubt thinking about the conclusion of our bet.

    I¡¯ve undoubtedly contributed more to the team, obtaining an uncontested victory. It doesn¡¯t need to be said. The terms of our bet say Geneva gets to have her way with him for a night. I have no idea what he thinks is going to happen, but I have my doubts he¡¯ll be smiling by the end. Poor bastard.

    Our grim procession comes to a stop as we pass through the gate. A group of tenders and three acolytes are waiting for us. The acolytes are seated behind tables with papers stacked along them, I¡¯m guessing to record our scores, while the tenders are sorting corpses and corralling squeaking mamaroons trapped in cages made of earth, metal, and even ice.

    Three teams are standing off to the side, discussing the test and fighting sleep. Several eyes turn to us and linger, conversations dying as they gape. I don¡¯t blame them. We must make quite an unusual sight, especially as I¡¯m still not wearing any clothes.

    The tenders aren¡¯t immune either. One of them curses as a small mamaroon slips from his inattentive grip. I swear the other beasties squeak in encouragement as it dashes away from him, disappearing into the earth before the young man can catch it.

    The acolyte at the closest table is similarly affected, gaze firmly attached to my breasts until I clear my throat. ¡°Ah, team number?¡±

    ¡°Thirty-seven.¡±

    His eyes move to the papers in front of him with reluctance, leafing through them with dexterous fingers. ¡°Team of five, Lourianne, Alana, Arthur, William, and Marthe.¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    ¡°Can the guide step forward?¡±

    Cloud moves past me, fingers brushing my cheek as she flashes a smile. ¡°This is where we part, honored sister. Do visit me again before the snow falls.¡±

    ¡°If I can.¡±

    Her eyes move to Alana. ¡°The winter is cold. I¡¯ve found the best way to keep warm is company.¡±

    ¡°Or covering yourself in fur.¡±

    ¡°It is stronger against the biting wind than mere flesh, yes. But I do not think the life of the Temple suits you.¡±

    ¡°Goodbye, Cloud,¡± Alana groans in exasperation.

    ¡°See you again.¡±

    Cloud moves toward the table and bends over, holding a whispered conversation with the acolyte. Then she jogs off, heading for a group of other guides. My eyes are glued to her ass until Alana elbows me, pointedly glaring at the rug on my shoulder.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    The acolyte waves and a tender approaches. ¡°If you could hand over your mamaroons for recording.¡±

    I wave my hand. Arthur, William, and Geneva work together to put the blankets holding our points in front of the tender before the seadog dramatically rips away the blanket covering the corpses. I hear an eruption of gasps, curses, and whispers as all the watching eyes take in our haul. Mm, quite a few people are feeling inadequate.

    ¡°Ah, gonna need some help with this,¡± the tender mutters. ¡°How they¡¯d even get so many of the buggers? It¡¯s like there¡¯s a whole den here.¡±

    ¡°While he¡¯s handling that,¡± I say, drawing the acolyte¡¯s attention back to me. Well, to my breasts but he meets my eyes when I snap my fingers a few times. ¡°I was wondering, do you have a way to contact an instructor?¡±

    He frowns. ¡°No. We are fully capable of handling this part of the test.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re prepared for this.¡±

    He looks offended. I smile. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re sure¡ª¡±

    Orphelia puts a hand on my shoulder. Alana smoothly knocks it off, glaring at her. She doesn¡¯t take offense, her voice sweet as she says, ¡°I would appreciate it if we could handle this with discretion.¡±

    Does it matter? She¡¯s mad if she thinks this is going to remain a secret. Nothing spreads faster than gossip. Nothing.

    But this is her mess so let her handle it how she wants. ¡°Alright. Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± At my feet, she stands at attention.

    ¡°Explain everything to Kii. Tell her¡ª¡± I turn to Orphelia. ¡°Is there a particular instructor you want me to contact?¡±

    ¡°Miss Alyssa,¡± Alana says over her. ¡°She is affiliated with the Hall and the Hall only,¡± she continues when I raise my brows in question. ¡°She is also from Victory. No forces from the capital will be able to influence her.¡±

    ¡°I would also request you inform Umphrieltalia. She is¡ª¡±

    ¡°The dorm mother of the Gold Dorm.¡± My gaze narrows. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°You know her?¡±

    ¡°Vaguely.¡± A blatant lie. I met Miss Talia when she presided over my first duel. A powerful mental caster, so powerful in fact that she is a candidate to be the next head interrogator, she noticed something odd about Geneva. That my elemental was more than she presented to be.

    Luckily, Miss Talia is more concerned with her personal power than any obligations she may have toward the kingdom and has since attempted to get closer to me. We occasionally have dinner but it is difficult find time with her responsibilities. I still consider her a friend and I don¡¯t take kindly to having her dragged into this mess. ¡°I know what she can do.¡±

    ¡°Are you worried? I¡¯m not contacting her for nefarious purposes. I couldn¡¯t if I wanted to as she has taken the same vows as the crown¡¯s interrogators. Lady Filigree will undoubtedly have questions. It will save time and kill suspicion if Umphrieltalia is there to ascertain my honesty.¡±

    ¡°¡­don¡¯t try anything.¡±

    Her features form a mask of innocence. No doubt she¡¯s misunderstanding my warning but that¡¯s easier for now. With my mental assent to her request, Bell dashes off, a reddish-orange blur that quickly disappears. Orphelia gives me a questioning look. ¡°Physical affinity,¡± I offer.

    ¡°Your elementals are quite capable.¡±

    ¡°The joys of summoning.¡±

    ¡°I must admit, you have me interested in the art.¡±

    Saints damn it all, that¡¯s my weakness. I can¡¯t help from smiling as I turn to her, even as I see her eyes narrow slightly with the anticipation of a predator cornering prey.

    ¡°You won¡¯t have much to talk about if she¡¯s detained for murder,¡± Alana says sharply, interrupting the moment. Her obvious displeasure is enough to reign in my excitement but I can feel Orphelia¡¯s eyes on me, telling me that she won¡¯t let me escape that easily.

    Off to the side, tenders are swarming over our pile of mamaroons. ¡°One hundred fifty-four!¡± one of them shouts, standing from a crouch and rolling his shoulders.

    ¡°¡­seven hundred seventy points,¡± the acolyte mutters with disbelief.

    ¡°Does that mean we passed?¡± I ask, holding back a snicker.

    ¡°Yes, Lady Tome, your team has passed. And I dare say you all will have your pick of the instructors.¡± He notes the number down on his paper. ¡°The previous record was five hundred eighty-five points, held by the grandmaster himself. Along with his team, of course.¡±

    I grin broadly. I beat Dunwayne? That feels amazing.

    ¡°Congratulations on completing the qualifiers. Results will be released Saintsday. At the same time, you will also receive any personal offers of instruction from interested parties. I wish you the best of luck.¡± He looks around me. ¡°Please step aside for the next team.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± Orphelia says. ¡°We will be scored later.¡±

    ¡°¡­why?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s better that way.¡±

    Of course it is. If she does it now, he¡¯s going to do a headcount and she¡¯s going to have to explain why one of her members is missing. Has anyone noticed she¡¯s a member short? It could be difficult to tell with all of us hanging about in one large group. ¡°Are there any rules against such?¡±

    ¡°No, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°Good, thank you.¡±

    His mouth gapes but he soon decides it¡¯s not worth it, shaking his head. ¡°Then have a good day.¡±

    ¡°Arthur, grab the blankets.¡± I motion them to the side. A few other initiates wander over to chat but they find us unresponsive and soon wander off. We stand in quiet tension until the sound of pounding hooves catches my attention.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-93

    I sincerely hope that Orphelia¡¯s goal wasn¡¯t to keep this quiet because the stampede heading our way is the opposite of that. As the hours passed, more teams exited the Sanctuary and were drawn into the impromptu meet-and-greet. Dozens of curious eyes are paying rapt attention as fourteen people race toward us.

    Riding at the helm of the group on a pure black warhorse, judging from its size, is Miss Alyssa, vibrant red hair flowing behind her and a mighty scowl on her face. It¡¯s not an expression of anger. If I had to say, she is annoyed to the point of murder, which I would be too if I had to deal with the fallout of a murdered royal.

    She must have rushed here as she¡¯s not wearing her armor. This is only the second time I¡¯ve seen her without it. Instead, she¡¯s wearing one of the simple robes that are popular throughout the Hall, in a shade of red only a bit darker than her hair.

    Riding beside her is, to my surprise, my wife. After a moment of thought, my surprise disappears. Of course she¡¯s here. As if she would miss something bound to be, at least to her, entertaining. Me being involved only makes it worse. Saints, I hope she doesn¡¯t make this situation any more complicated for a little amusement.

    Behind them are several people dressed in mismatched armor. They give off the same impression as the lackeys Miss Alyssa brought to the house. What were they called? The Grand Watch, I believe it was. Acolytes and instructors that function as the Hall¡¯s security and problem solvers. She must have grabbed them for extra hands.

    For a moment, I think Miss Talia isn¡¯t arriving with them when I catch a flash of black behind Kierra. A quick drop of a ¡®film¡¯ and my vision is magnified. Enough that I can see the hands around my wife¡¯s waist. Aw, they¡¯re riding together. Well, she did say she would take an active role in Miss Talia¡¯s, hm, relationship with us back when the dorm mother made her intentions clear. Mm, a few wonderful images are coming to mind. I hope this mess with Sebas doesn¡¯t drag on.

    As the group comes closer, the whistle of harsh winds draws my attention to the sky. A speck of silver is steadily drawing closer. My lips turn down as it draws close enough for me to recognize it. ¡°Ugh.¡±

    ¡°Is something the matter, Lou?¡± Orphelia asks, having noticed my shift in attitude with her brazen observation of me.

    ¡°Someone annoying decided to get involved.¡± How did he even know? I doubt Miss Alyssa told him. She¡¯s not the type to go running to anyone for help. Could it be Miss Talia? Pfft. No. She can barely hold a conversation. Besides, she knows I can¡¯t stand the man and his uncomfortable obsession with my wife. That alone would be enough for her to exclude him. That leaves¡­ ¡°Do you know a bald bastard named Aurelius?¡±

    ¡°Aurelius, the master air caster. Specializes in the utility side of casting but can hold his own in a fight. Was talented enough to be tutored by Dunwayne for a short time but was never acknowledged as a disciple. Middling influence throughout the Hall, lesser influence amongst the hunters of Quest, an unknown in the political circles of the kingdom.¡±

    She smiles as I stare at her. Once again, I find myself wondering who she is. Or maybe what may be the better question. She¡¯s more than an initiate and far more than a babysitter. But no. The fact that she even mentioned politics means she¡¯s far too involved in them to be worth the trouble of associating with her. Geneva is handling that.

    It hasn¡¯t escaped my notice that a day after I give her permission to meddle with the kingdom to keep political interests away from me, a royal dies. Coincidence? It¡¯s possible.

    This could have been an assassination planned for a long time. Maybe Ethor was a hell of a liar and fooled of all my enhanced senses. Maybe it wasn¡¯t him but one of his teammates that did something, also managing to keep calm enough to not draw my attention. Maybe Sebas threw himself in the way of deadly projectiles and his teammates all fainted due to shock and not before the spell was fired, as I swear I saw it happen.

    Yeah, and maybe one of the saints will personally descend from the heavens to suck me off.

    I know my succubus is involved. I don¡¯t know how far or what her plan is but she¡¯s got her dainty little fingers all in this mess. As the one at the center of it, Geneva must have her sights on Orphelia. It¡¯s almost enough to make me feel sorry for her but I¡¯ve done enough to soothe my conscience by giving the devious elemental restrictions.

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    Orphelia seems thoroughly entrenched in the ways of court intrigue. Don¡¯t be mad that something¡¯s taken a chunk out of you if you¡¯re mad enough to dive into a monster¡¯s den.

    ¡°Do you have enmity with Master Aurelius?¡±

    Ugh. Hearing someone refer to him so respectfully, reminding me that he is something other than a horny bastard who¡¯s shameless enough to target someone else¡¯s wife after repeated rejection, is a little sickening.

    Ah. Wait a moment. I¡¯m strong enough to take him on now, aren¡¯t I? What a wonderful thought. The question is, can I catch him? The moment he realizes how powerful I am, he will fly away. If I were to take him down, it would have to be in one decisive blow. Now I simply need a pretext, as suddenly assaulting an instructor is sure to complicate my time here. Can acolytes challenge instructors? Or perhaps I can goad him into doing something stupid so it becomes a matter of self-defense.

    ¡°Yes. Yes, I do. One day, he¡¯s going to get what¡¯s coming to him.¡±

    ¡°I have no doubt that you will be a caster to rival his power one day.¡±

    ¡°Heh. One day sooner than you think.¡±

    I ignore her pointed stare as she tries to decipher that comment.

    Miss Alyssa and her retinue arrive, the horses slowing to a trot and spreading out. The redheaded instructor approaches with my wife and two of her lackeys. They dismount, Kierra giving Miss Talia a helping hand.

    At the same time, Aurelius drifts down, his outstretched arms and his billowing robe giving the impression of a bird throwing out its wings. I hear a few initiates gasp in awe and the word ¡®majestic¡¯ is whispered. I would have gone with pretentious but I¡¯m very much biased on the matter.

    I motion for the others to separate from the crowd as Miss Alyssa scans the surroundings. She settles on me, scowl worsening as she takes in my nakedness before she zeroes in on the blanket on my shoulder. She stomps over to me, the rest following.

    Miss Talia nods in my direction, this not being the occasion to break her usually reserved nature. I understand but I can¡¯t say I¡¯m not disappointed. One of the things I like most about her is her voice. If someone could take Geneva¡¯s cooking and transmute it to sound, that¡¯s what she sounds like. I still don¡¯t fully believe it¡¯s not magical. Wait, is it magical? Something to consider.

    Miss Alyssa motions for us to move further off to the side before she asks curtly, ¡°Is that him?¡±

    I nod. Her experience with me shows as she doesn¡¯t comment on the state of my undress.

    ¡°Set him down and form a wall. I want to confirm.¡±

    My group forms a half circle as I unceremoniously drop the corpse, ignoring Robert¡¯s sharp intake of breath and subsequent curse. I pull down the material closest to the face, exposing Sebas and his gruesome wound.

    Robert¡¯s curses a few more times and Marthe turns away but everyone else is largely unaffected. Miss Alyssa kneels beside him expressionlessly. ¡°Saints damn it all.¡±

    ¡°Would you like me to check if someone has altered the face to fake his death?¡± Kierra offers, but her eyes are on me, her gaze full of amusement. I wink at her. She licks her lips. Saints, we¡¯re flirting over a dead body. I love this woman.

    ¡°No, dammit. I¡¯m pretty sure his minder would have noticed someone swapping him out with a body double. This is a shitstorm we can¡¯t outrun.¡± Miss Alyssa pushes to her feet with a sigh. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen. Aurelius, make an announcement that a monster caused several casualties, including him.¡± She gestured to Sebas. ¡°That is the official story and I expect all of you to stick to it. If I hear even a whisper of anything else, I don¡¯t care who you are, I will burn off the lips that can¡¯t stay shut. Am I clear?¡±

    ¡°As glass,¡± I reply nonchalantly while the others nod with varying degrees of urgency. Poor William looks a little pale.

    ¡°After, retrieve the bodies of the attackers. Hopefully, nothing has snacked on them yet. In the meantime, all of you will be coming with me for a full debrief.¡±

    To my surprise, Aurelius simply nods. I thought he was far too enamored with himself to accept a fellow instructor giving him orders. ¡°Where should I send the bodies?¡±

    ¡°To the guardhouse.¡±

    ¡°Um?¡± Both instructors turn to me. ¡°Would it be too much for me to make a quick stop home? To freshen up?¡± My words remind everyone of my nakedness, which draws a multitude of reactions. Miss Alyssa has to slap the back of her lackeys¡¯ heads to get them to stop staring and looks ready to curse me to my nth ancestor but Kierra intervenes.

    ¡°You could all come to the house. I¡¯m sure it has been a trying morning. I doubt your guardhouse will be more hospitable.¡± She grins. ¡°And I¡¯m sure several of us can use a drink.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re right about that.¡± Miss Alyssa rubs her forehead. ¡°I sincerely doubt either of you had anything to do with this. Fuck it, it¡¯s closer anyway. Aurelius, I¡¯m sure you know where her house is.¡±

    He frowns. ¡°I escorted her on her arrival to the Hall.¡± Don¡¯t want people to assume you stalked her to her place of residence? Please, I have no doubt you would have done so if you hadn¡¯t been the one to escort her. Bet he fought hard for the privilege.

    ¡°Good.¡± Miss Alyssa covers Sebas¡¯ face and lifts the blanket with a solemness that makes me self-conscious of my earlier disregard. ¡°We¡¯ve brought enough horses for everyone so let¡¯s get a move on. Where¡¯s the guide for your team?¡±

    ¡°Over there,¡± Alana points out helpfully.

    ¡°Oh, the puppy,¡± Kierra coos as she spots Cloud, drawing a few strange looks. Miss Alyssa ignores it as she sends one of her lackeys to fetch her. Guess it¡¯s not goodbye after all.

    Wow. Soon, all the women I am presently courting will be under the same roof. I¡¯m a little excited.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-94

    The welcoming room is a bit crowded holding my team, Orphelia¡¯s team, Sebas¡¯ corpse, Cloud, two of Miss Alyssa¡¯s lackeys to make sure no one bolts, and my servants.

    There aren¡¯t enough seats for everyone. Being one of the homeowners, I claim one couch for myself, gesturing for Kierra and Cloud to take up the places beside me. It would have been Alana but she balked at the chance and the more shameless Cloud swooped in to claim the seat.

    Alana sulkily took a seat on the opposite couch, along with Orphelia and Cecile. For some reason, Geneva is perched on the arm of their couch, right beside Orphelia. Something I am choosing to ignore along with every other suspect thing that has happened today. Bell is her normal adorable self, curled up at my feet, holding the little cutie. She, it, whatever, really needs a name.

    The men have been left to stand and lean against walls. An outcome no one argued against, whether out of exhaustion or good sense. Besides, their condition is made far more comfortable by the drinks and snacks being served by Earl and Gajin. The gardener originally came because he was curious about the commotion but decided to help. I understand. It¡¯s difficult to do nothing when a junior colleague is working hard.

    Miss Alyssa and Miss Talia have commandeered the study for their interrogations. The instructor announced her intention to speak to each of us individually and ordered us not confer amongst ourselves. To keep us from conspiring together I assume. An unnecessary precaution. I genuinely think no one in this room, with a little less certainty for Geneva and Orphelia, had anything to do with this, ah, tragedy.

    Nevertheless, we wait obediently for our turns in sparsely interrupted silence, though it won¡¯t last. Lanston, the first to be singled out for questioning, has been in the room long enough for me to shower, don some clothes, and sit long enough to be bored. ¡°What a day,¡± I mutter.

    Fingers brush my neck before massaging. I turn as Kierra leans toward me, tilting my head to meet her lips in a slow kiss. ¡°Tell me,¡± she whispers between breaths. ¡°Did you kill him?¡±

    ¡°No. Why would you even suspect I did?¡± I mutter.

    ¡°Perhaps you were enjoying your freedom from your fears.¡±

    ¡°No longer being afraid of royals doesn¡¯t make them any less of a pain to deal with.¡±

    ¡°A shame. I thought there might be cause to have a proper battle with Dunwayne.¡±

    Hey, hey. Please don¡¯t try to kill humanity¡¯s champion for a bit of fun. Her hands tug on my waist and I follow their pull, sitting on her thighs while facing her. I deepen the kiss while muttering, ¡°Something fun may be happening.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Geneva.¡±

    That¡¯s all I have to say for her to understand. She pulls away from the kiss to raise a brow. I shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t care as long as I don¡¯t get involved.¡±

    She chuckles, hiding her face in my chest. ¡°You have doomed this kingdom.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. I gave her rules.¡±

    She laughs harder, as if the thought of rules stopping the succubus is utterly ridiculous.

    It¡¯ll be fine. Probably.

    ¡°I understand that this is your home,¡± Mr. Four Affinities bites out, ¡°but I would remind you of how inappropriate it would be to engage in¡­relations right now. You may not have known or cared about Sebas but his death deserves respect.¡±

    Kierra raises her head and we both turn to him, along with the rest of the room. His eyes are red from crying, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, but his gaze is hard. There¡¯s a lot of emotion behind them, just waiting for a target to be thrown at.

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    ¡°You¡¯re right, this is my home.¡± If he¡¯s smart, he¡¯ll pick a better target than me. With the qualifiers done and the many more important things in my life to consider, I¡¯d already practically forgotten about Mr. Talented. He could have left this house without us speaking another word to each other but he had to open his mouth.

    Is he a masochist? A comrade? If so, who am I to deny him? ¡°So I will do what I want, thank you. I don¡¯t think Seabass will mind.¡±

    He flinches, halls balling in rage. ¡°His name is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Was,¡± I interrupt with a nasty smile.

    ¡°Is Sebas!¡± Robert¡¯s frown morphs into a sneer. ¡°And if you plan to engage in those activities, I would simply like to know so I may excuse myself.¡±

    ¡°Those activities?¡± Kierra questions with unmistakable interest.

    ¡°The boy speaks of us.¡± Cloud steals the floor. ¡°As the sun rose on our time in the Sanctuary, I mated with honored sister.¡± She flashes me a toothy smile. ¡°She mounted me from behind and fucked me like a bitch in heat.¡±

    A few people enjoying refreshments choke and spray liquid at her blunt words, staring at her with wide eyes, but it doesn¡¯t stop there.

    She leans back and spreads her leg. A hand moves down her chest and over her skirt, lingering at the edge of the cloth as she moans. ¡°It was as primal as my brethren seeking mates beneath a full moon. I was tempted to simply lose my mind and let her breed me forever.¡±

    Heavy silence meets her proclamation. I preen under their wandering gazes, feeling my ego grow and flex.

    Slowly but surely, their eyes move to Kierra. Perhaps wondering how she, my wife, will react to another woman bragging about having sex with me, publicly at that.

    Are they anticipating drama? Fools.

    See? She looks positively delighted. As if she would react any other way to me casting away my old morals and adopting new ones that align closer to her own. ¡°Lou, you beast,¡± she practically purrs. One of her hands moves from my waist and slowly strokes my crotch. ¡°Trying to draw another into our game?¡±

    It''s my turn to almost choke. ¡°Don¡¯t joke,¡± I say. I turn to Cloud. ¡°She has her own priorities.¡± I return her lazy smile.

    ¡°Mm. A shame. I would have loved to watch.¡±

    Speaking of watching. I lean toward her and whisper, ¡°A certain blond did get to watch. I think she liked what she saw.¡±

    ¡°Oh? I believe I know what we will be doing once you win your bet with your sun.¡±

    As expected of my wife, her mind went to the same place as mine. I hear Alana¡¯s heart rate spike. You¡¯re right to be worried. Oh, I hope she spends every night wondering what we mean. She¡¯ll try not to. Then, when that doesn¡¯t work, she¡¯ll tell herself it doesn¡¯t matter because she thinks she¡¯s going to win our bet. I wonder, will a small part of her hope she doesn¡¯t? What will she feel when she does lose? Dread? Anticipation? I can¡¯t wait.

    ¡°I see.¡± Orphelia¡¯s voice is full of amusement while her gaze is calculating. ¡°I think I¡¯ve discovered the answer to the question of your marriage. You are both quite¡­compatible.¡±

    ¡°You mean they¡¯re both disgusting,¡± Robert adds.

    A total masochist. Even if other people are disturbed by our conversation, they can at least keep their opinions to themselves. It¡¯s like he¡¯s daring me to abuse him.

    [My summoner, the boy is searching for someone to blame for his pain. You make quite an excellent villain. However, on some level, he realizes his hate is unfounded. Therefore, he provokes you. With every insult, every dismissive glance, and every disregard of his dead friend, he justifies his hatred of you, redirecting his guilt into anger.]

    ¡­seriously?

    ¡°Disgusting, are we?¡± Who cares if he hates me? Useless bastard. ¡°I suppose you are just as disgusting then for getting off watching me pound another woman senseless.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± His face flushes bright red. ¡°I most certainly did not.¡±

    ¡°Have you forgotten you¡¯re a guy? You can¡¯t exactly hide your excitement. I suppose you should be commended for not dropping your pants and rubbing one out. You¡¯ve got better self-control than a dog.¡± Arthur, that sentient piece of waste in the skin of a man. Saints blessing, with the qualifiers over, I can cut ties with him for good.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey, tell me something. When you were watching us and trying not to drool all over yourself, which one did you want to be? Me or Cloud? Don¡¯t be ashamed. I know there are men who like taking it up the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Cecile screams shrilly, jumping to her feet. ¡°What in the abyss is wrong with you? Our friend is lying dead right there and you¡¯re taunting him? Are you some kind of devil?!¡±

    The door to the study slams open. ¡°By the saints¡¯ blessed asses, I told you little shits not to talk to each other!¡± Miss Alyssa shouts, glaring at the room. ¡°Do you want there to be another corpse? HUH?!¡±

    Cecile shrinks in on herself as Lanston slinks past the instructor. ¡°You!¡± The Guiness daughter jumps as the redhead points her out. ¡°Since you¡¯re so eager to talk, you¡¯re next. Get over here.¡±

    She hurries to complies, the door slamming shut the moment she passes the threshold. Lanston makes to take her empty seat but a pointed glare from me causes him to rethink. He settles for putting his back to a wall and sliding down to the floor, burying his head between his knees.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-95

    This is why I¡¯ve never been to the capital, Alyssa thought as Cecile Guiness left the study. With her skill and background in Fort Victory, many noble houses would have eagerly welcomed her into their fold. However, she had no stomach for the schemes that came with titles and estates.

    In Victory, everyone was united against the enemies beyond the mountains. The soldiers had no time for those who would sabotage and use others to get ahead. They needed every able body and every scrap of talent. Parasites like the ones that thrived in beds of opulence like Summer Spire would be throttled the moment they showed their tails. When she was a member of a knight order, she didn¡¯t even need to wait on the duke¡¯s judgment, her high rank giving her the power to strike down Victory¡¯s enemies the moment she recognized them.

    Now, she had spent the last hour wading through the murky circumstances surrounding the death of a young royal and was getting nowhere. Worse, the whole investigation was a waste of her time. She could discover the truth, the whole truth, and would be able to do nothing with it.

    The facts would be passed onto the crown and the king would decide how to handle the situation. He would give her a story to tell that she would stick to on pain of death. And depending on what secrets she discovered, she, a completely unrelated party, might have to take precautions to preserve her own life. All because she had the misfortune of doing her job, something that should be rewarded.

    It annoyed her to the point she wanted to quit, grab a few bottles of Herbanacle, and disappear into the wilds surrounding Quest for a few months. Get lost in a couple of dungeons while the mess was settled. If only her pride would allow her to tuck tail and run.

    Sighing deeply, she stood in the entrance of the room and observed the crowd. She had started the interviews with the dead boy¡¯s team. Mainly because they should have the most information but also because she wanted to give them a chance to rest. She understood the pain of losing a comrade and a friend. The last thing they wanted to do was relive the event under her brisk questioning but it had to be done and the sooner it was finished, the sooner she could leave them to their grief.

    Of course, one of the members didn¡¯t seem to be doing much grieving. The young woman named Orphelia was engaged in quiet but cheerful discussion with Lourianne Tome and her¡­group.

    Alyssa was starting to have deep suspicions about the lecherous noble. She seemed to attract trouble. The instructor was sure she wouldn¡¯t be the only one thinking that this was the second time Lou was involved in an incident related to the royal family. Once was coincidence. Twice was suspicious. Three times would be a pattern and something that could no longer be ignored by the powers that be.

    But for now, she was a simple witness. Alyssa ignored her, focusing on the sullen boy standing off on his own. It took a moment to remember his name. ¡°Quintana.¡±

    His head jerk up. His gaze found hers, blank with incomprehension for several moments before his thoughts caught up to the moment and he walked towards her. She turned so he could enter the study and shut the door firmly behind him.

    He slumped in the empty seat across from Umphrieltalia, giving the dorm mother a curious look before going back to his silent brooding. Alyssa took her place beside the dorm mother, leaning on the back legs of her chair as she studied him, determining the best way to approach the interview.

    He reminded her of young soldiers back from their first campaign, struck with the reality that they were not the heroes to finally make their mark where no one had before and that chasing glory would only earn them an early grave. Not even the loss of their friends could compare to their shattered perceptions of themselves and their place in the world.

    In her experience, there were two ways to handle this. She could coddle him, swaddle him with sympathy and care. He would expunge the grief and heal but he would never be a soldier, or if he was, he¡¯d be a subpar one by Victory¡¯s standards.

    When others would not hesitate, he would. When others would lay down their lives and the lives of their comrades to accomplish the mission, he would retreat, no longer believing in that thing greater than himself. As her own teacher would say, it would create a weak point in the blade, one that could one day cause the whole weapon to shatter. Maybe the boy would give up fighting altogether. With his talent, he could rise to greatness in any field he chose.

    Or she could handle him the Victory way. Bludgeon him with his failure and weakness like a smith striking steel. Hammer his soft heart until something new was forged. Oh, he would still break. This method counted on it. It was meant to shatter the ignorant boys before stitching them back together with hardened wills and cold fury.

    She had left her home because she was tired of watching the endless cycle and, worse, being a part of it. If she had the choice, she¡¯d go with the first option. Send the boy back to his mother with a new appreciation of life. Unfortunately, she was never one to shirk a duty. Right now, that duty required she find answers, even if she had to rip them out of him.

    ¡°Robert Quintana,¡± she snapped and his blank eyes focused on her. ¡°This is an official inquiry under the authority of the Grand Hall. As an initiate, the judgment of the Grandmaster supersedes that of the king. That means, no matter who you are, no matter who your teacher is, or who is supporting you, we can throw you in a cage and never let you out if you¡¯ve broken the rules. Do you understand?¡±

    She intentionally adopted a confrontational tone and he responded predictably; lips pressed in a small frown, eyes narrowed, and shoulders tight. She didn¡¯t wait for him to respond as it was good enough that she had his undivided attention.

    ¡°Under my authority, I have brought in Umphrieltalia to act as an interrogator. She has taken the same vows as any other interrogator. Her testimony during any investigation is to be taken as fact. An interrogator lying during an investigation is punished by death. Lying to an interrogator throughout the course of an investigation can be punished by up to ten years of imprisonment.¡± Though only the most severe lies used to purposely mislead an investigation but he didn¡¯t need to know that now. ¡°So, we¡¯re all going to tell the truth.¡±

    ¡°As you speak, you may feel the presence of my mana,¡± Umphrieltalia said softly. ¡°Do not fight the spell with your own mana. It will only make the process more painful.¡±

    ¡°¡­only the crown can employ interrogators,¡± Robert said, watching them with growing suspicion. ¡°Don¡¯t try to lie to me. My teacher educated me on the kingdom¡¯s laws.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be right if we were anywhere else.¡± She threw out her hands. ¡°This is the Hall, kid. We don¡¯t play by the same rules, plain and simple. Now, Talia is going to rummage through your head no matter what you think. Fighting is only going to make it more painful. I suggest you don¡¯t as it would be a waste of time and if you waste my time, I¡¯m going to get really annoyed with you.¡±

    ¡°This is illegal.¡±

    ¡°Think that all you want but it won¡¯t change what¡¯s going to happen.¡±

    He stared at her in a sullen silence.

    ¡°So that¡¯s how it¡¯s going to be. Fine. I don¡¯t need you to say anything. It¡¯s not like you had much of a part to play. Fainting the moment someone shows you the slightest bit of aggression¡ª¡±

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    ¡°No!¡± he exploded. ¡°I didn¡¯t faint! Something¡­I don¡¯t know what happened. One minute, I was getting ready to cast and then¡­something must have knocked me out.¡±

    That was all the motivation it took. Robert spoke of the events from his point of view, becoming more energetic and angrier with each sentence. The emotions peaked as he talked about the conversation with the supposed assassin.

    ¡°He announced his intentions to attack us, bold as daylight, and that witch simply stepped aside!¡± His chest heaved as his voice shook with fury. ¡°She could have intervened. He wasn¡¯t going to attack so long as she remained, I know it. He tried too hard to get her to leave. But she did! She left us to face death for a few pieces of gold!¡±

    ¡°By she¡­do you mean Lourianne Tome?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± He slammed his hands on the table. ¡°When are you going to question her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll have her turn like everyone else. Why?¡±

    ¡°¡­I think she may have something to do with this.¡±

    The instructor¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°That is a very serious accusation to make.¡±

    He faltered. ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know for sure. But her actions are suspicious. Before Ethor attacked us, she spoke to him in hushed tones. After previously rejecting his offers, she suddenly agreed to leave for less gold than Sebas offered. I think it is possible¡­that Ethor managed to sway her to whatever cause claimed the life of Sebas.¡±

    Alyssa pinched the bridge of her nose. She had received a similar account from both the boy named Lanston and the Guiness girl. She looked over to Umphrieltalia and received a small nod. That meant he also was telling the truth, both about the events and his suspicions. Nothing was confirmed and she sincerely hoped it¡¯d stay that way. Saints forbid that strange girl, or her fucking elven wife, were involved in a plot to murder a member of the royal family.

    ¡°What happened next?¡±

    ¡°We fought. We had him cornered and then¡­I don¡¯t know what happened. Darkness suddenly claimed me. The next time I opened my eyes, Sebas was dead.¡±

    ¡°Along with your attackers.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And you don¡¯t know how they died?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Any guesses?¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡±

    ¡°No?¡± She leaned forward. ¡°Come on, Robert Quintana. Is that a brain between your ears of a giant ball of lint? Think! What did you see when you woke up?¡±

    ¡°¡­Orphelia was standing nearby. She looked tired. That woman was nearby. Alana was over by the enemy team, I think.¡±

    ¡°The other members of your team?¡±

    ¡°I could see Cecile moving unsteadily. Apparently, we were all knocked out.¡± He met her gaze. ¡°Is that not suspicious to you?¡±

    ¡°To summarize, one man beat the shit out of your entire team. Mid combat, you lose consciousness along with the other members of your team. When you wake up, your attacker as well as his team are dead and Lourianne Tome and Alana James are nearby.¡± She tapped her fingers on the table. ¡°What seems suspicious to me is your overwhelming hostility toward Lourianne Tome despite the facts pointing to the conclusion that she and her team saved all of from dying.¡±

    He barked out a laugh. ¡°Her? Save us?¡± He spat the questions out with a tone that said it was ridiculous to even contemplate the thought.

    ¡°Oh? Then how else are you alive? Did the fucking saints swoop down to smite your enemies?¡±

    He paused, considering. Because of her intense scrutiny of his face, she saw his eyes widen a fraction before his expression closed down. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t¡­but you¡¯ve got an idea. Come on. You seemed adamant that there was no way she would save you. Who did?¡±

    His lips stayed pressed together.

    ¡°I see.¡± Alyssa glanced at the dorm mother and got a shake in the negative.

    With a sigh, she stood from her chair and paced behind him. It was the same problem she had with the other two members of his team she¡¯d interviewed. While their stories rang true, there was something they were not telling her. A careful avoidance that Umphrieltalia could sense. If Robert wasn¡¯t also clearly trying to hide something she would have ignored it.

    After all, once was coincidence, twice was suspicious, but three times couldn¡¯t be ignored.

    ¡°Do you know how interrogators work?¡± she asked as she moved behind him, purposely dropping her voice. ¡°My job is to talk. I say something. Maybe it¡¯s right. Maybe it¡¯s wrong. You know and because you know, she knows. You can¡¯t hide your thoughts. All it takes is finding the right words. For example¡­¡±

    She suddenly slammed a hand down on the table beside him. Robert jumped but her other hand grabbed his shoulder and forced him to remain still. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about why you¡¯re so adamant that Lourianne Tome doesn¡¯t like you. See, I¡¯ve got some experience with her. I know damn well she doesn¡¯t care enough about most people to hate them. So what did you do to get on her bad side?¡±

    ¡°Nothing!¡± he yelled.

    ¡°You do not believe that,¡± Umphrieltalia declared apathetically.

    ¡°Oh, look. You just lied to an interrogator. That¡¯s one strike but such a little thing is nothing. Probably only get you a month in a cold, dark cell. So, I¡¯m going to ask you again. What did you do to piss her off, huh? What could make her angry enough that she would leave you to die as you said?¡±

    He bit his lip as he stayed quiet.

    ¡°You¡¯re not very smart, are you?¡± She slapped the back of his head before resuming her pacing. ¡°I told you, I don¡¯t need you to say a word with Umphrieltalia in the room. Let¡¯s see. There¡¯s only one thing I¡¯ve seen that girl get worked up over. Women. You insult her wife or something?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    Alyssa glanced to Umprieltalia, who made no sign of disagreement. ¡°Alright, who else? Her summons? You try to get a little succubus action? No? Who else is there? The blonde? She your type?¡±

    He remained quiet but his stoic demeanor meant nothing.

    ¡°He has been attempting to get close to Alana James.¡±

    Alyssa forced out a bark of a laugh. ¡°Well, there¡¯s your answer! She and her team left you to die because you¡¯ve been trying to flirt with her mistress.¡±

    ¡°Alana isn¡¯t her mistress,¡± he said, teeth grit in anger. ¡°Don¡¯t insult her by saying she is involved with that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, look. A knight come to rescue the fair maiden from the clutches of the evil noble. A classic. Tell me, hero. How did your maiden take to your daring rescue? I don¡¯t think she thanked you.¡±

    ¡°She has rejected his many attempts to deepen their friendship,¡± the dorm mother answered for him.

    ¡°Well, damn. Apparently, she thinks it¡¯s more insulting to be with you than that lecherous pervert.¡±

    ¡°I am not courting her,¡± Robert said hotly. ¡°I¡¯m not interested in¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lie.¡± Umphrieltalia cut him off ruthlessly.

    ¡°Of course you¡¯re interested. You¡¯re a horny boy that tried to touch a woman he had no business looking at. Because of that, your supposed ally left you. You and your dick are the reason Lou abandoned you. You¡¯re the reason your friend died.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Robert shouted, trying to get to his feet but she swiftly pushed him back down.

    ¡°What a worthless bastard. Can¡¯t even admit it. You know, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she is involved. She probably told that Ethor to kill the lot of you. I can see her doing it. Or maybe, she told him to kill you. The dead boy had the null affinity. A rough dislocation could knock you out. Maybe your friend is dead because he took an attack meant for you.¡±

    Robert stared at her with wide eyes.

    ¡°Never thought of that before, did you? Your friend might have a hole in his head because he saved you.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I didn¡¯t¡­he¡­¡±

    ¡°How fucking sad. You¡¯ve got four affinities but so what? We can get four people and they can do everything you can do. There were a total of twelve null casters in the kingdom.¡± A fact she had learned from Cecile¡¯s interview, the girl reminiscing on her dearly departed fianc¨¦¡¯s bad habit of constantly declaring his own importance. ¡°Twelve. Now that number is eleven because you couldn¡¯t leave a girl who isn¡¯t even interested in you alone.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my idea!¡± he shouted. Then his anger turned to something new. Fear.

    ¡°Orphelia instructed him to get closer to Lourianne Tome and her team,¡± Umphrieltalia said. It was only a bit but Alyssa thought she heard a rare trace of interest in the dorm mother¡¯s tone. She couldn¡¯t blame her. It was an¡­interesting development.

    ¡°And why would she do that, Robert?¡± The boy shook, eyes downcast as he refused to meet her gaze. Not that it mattered with a powerful mental caster in his mind.

    ¡°¡­during the time they shared a shelter, his team witnessed Lourianne Tome being intimate with their guide.¡±

    Of fucking course that pervert was. I get the succubi, satisfying their summoner¡¯s lusts is probably the norm, but what in the saints¡¯ names do the rest of these women see in that brat? I¡¯d call it reckless youth but I¡¯m pretty sure Kierra is older than me.

    ¡°During that time, they discovered that she has both genitalia¡ª¡±

    ¡°Whoa, wait a minute.¡± Alyssa held up a hand as she processed the dorm mother¡¯s words. ¡°Did you just say¡­¡±

    Umphrieltalia met her gaze. ¡°She has both male and female genitalia, though her male organ does not appear to be of traditional design.¡±

    The instructor paused for several moments. Then she walked over her chair, dropped down, and grabbed the bottle of Herbanacle under the table, what had drawn her to accept Kierra¡¯s offer of hospitality. She quickly downed several mouthfuls before slamming the bottle on the table. ¡°Alright, give me the rest.¡±

    ¡°Orphelia Yemen appears to be an agent of the crown, a minder for Robert and his team. Upon discovering that Lourianne Tome may have the possibility of consummating her marriage to Kierra Atainna and producing an heir to the elven throne, she told them all to do what they could to form ties to Lourianne Tome and her associates.¡±

    I shouldn¡¯t have asked. Forget a dead boy. This investigation now involved international interests. Alyssa stared at the Herbanacle, wondering if she could forget what she¡¯d just heard if she downed the rest of it fast enough.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-96

    ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you.¡±

    She looked up at Robert. He was pale and shaking. ¡°I didn¡¯t reveal an agent of the crown. You pulled the information from my mind.¡±

    ¡°Is that your biggest concern, boy? That someone is going to yell at you for not keeping secrets? Do you honestly think that¡¯s what¡¯s important?!¡± Saints, here she was contemplating the fact that if this was handled incorrectly, they might be facing war, a real war between nations as opposed to the petty squabbles between nobles that dominated Harvest¡¯s history, and this kid was afraid she¡¯d made him look bad. ¡°Get out.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get the hell out! I have what I need and I¡¯m not here to entertain whatever horseshit is going through your mind.¡±

    He waited a beat before hesitantly standing. When she ignored him, he took slow steps out of the room, closing the door behind him. Alyssa covered her face with her hand. ¡°Why me?¡±

    ¡°Interesting.¡±

    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s interesting?¡±

    Umphrieltalia turned to her, something incredibly upsetting about the gesture as the woman¡¯s eyes were closed. ¡°I have some understanding of Lou. A firmer understanding of her wife.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the two of you looked cozy riding together.¡± Alyssa hadn¡¯t spared it much thought as she had too much on her mind. ¡°What are you getting at?¡±

    ¡°Human melders seek to create men with the peak of men¡¯s strength. Or what they can imagine it to be.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°It would stand to reason that an elf would meld someone to the peak of elven strength. For Kierra, that peak is the strength of an elf with a pure physical affinity.¡±

    The instructor¡¯s stomach twisted with a feeling akin to dread. ¡°I think I get what you¡¯re trying to say.¡± A melder had to have a goal when using their magic to alter someone. To make a man as strong as a bear, perhaps. Or skin as hard as iron. Eyes like an eagle. ¡°You¡¯re saying that Kierra melded her wife to rival her in strength naturally. Something I would normally say is impossible but¡ª¡±

    ¡°But Kierra possesses a pure affinity. The only thing that can limit her in the realm of physical magic is her coefficient but melding is a process. As long as she has time, nothing is impossible. Such as giving Lou superhuman strength. And then giving her the ability to pass that strength down to her children.¡±

    ¡°Human-elf hybrids born with the strength of a pure physical caster with connections to foreign royalty. Saints save us all. No fucking wonder an agent of the crown blew her cover. We are all fucked once this gets out. I need a vacation.¡±

    A knock on the door caused them both to look up as Orphelia Yemen entered the study. Alyssa watched her like one would watch a venomous snake as the young woman closed the door and casually took the seat across from them. If she had the choice, the instructor would have much preferred to deal with an actual snake. While it was injecting her with deadly venom.

    ¡°Lady Filagree, Umphrieltalia,¡± Orphelia greeted with a smile. ¡°I apologize for my team drawing you away from your duties. Thank you for helping to clean up this mess.¡± She waited a beat for them to respond but carried on as if nothing was wrong when they didn¡¯t. ¡°Judging from Robert¡¯s guilty face as he looked at me, I¡¯m guessing he revealed my secret.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Who do you work for?¡± Alyssa asked with a resigned tone.

    ¡°My father. I could guess who he works for but it¡¯s not my place to say.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°And it is not your place to ask.¡±

    Alyssa leveled a finger at her. ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky. You are within the Hall and under the Grandmaster¡¯s authority no matter who you work for.¡± As an agent of the crown, it was a sure bet that Orphelia was beyond the level of the usual initiate but she¡¯d be damned if she let the brat talk down to her.

    ¡°Of course. Which is why I am here for my interview. Shall we quickly get to the pertinent questions? What happened? A man calling himself Ethor attacked us. He killed Sebas. In retaliation, I killed him and his team.¡±

    ¡°Truth,¡± Umphrieltalia said.

    ¡°What happened to your teammates?¡± Alyssa asked.

    ¡°They suddenly collapsed.¡±

    ¡°You had nothing to do with it?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°Why did Ethor attack you?¡±

    ¡°He claimed it was prompted by his teacher, a knight acquainted with Sir Quintana, but that is unverified.¡±

    And that was all she needed to know. Six initiates had died. She knew who killed them and she knew why. The rest had nothing to do with her and she wouldn¡¯t have it any other way. ¡°We¡¯re done.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. Then, there is something else.¡± She turned to the dorm mother. ¡°Under the authority of the crown, I am drafting you to assist me in questioning Lourianne Tome.¡±

    Alyssa stood up, glaring down at Orphelia. ¡°What the hell? Inquiries at the Hall are to be conducted by a senior instructor and inviting interrogators can only be done with the express permission of the Grandmaster. You can¡¯t ask her to go digging in someone¡¯s mind because you¡¯re curious!¡±

    ¡°This is not an official inquiry and Umphrieltalia is not an interrogator. As such, I¡¯m not breaking any laws.¡±

    ¡°There are laws about unsanctioned use of the mental affinity on citizens of the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°She will simply be validating the truth of Lou¡¯s answers, not stealing her thoughts. No intrusion, no violation of any laws.¡±

    The young woman smiled but her eyes were cold, with just a hint of anticipation. Like a cat staring at a mouse, wondering what other tricks the prey would try in a bid to escape before it¡¯s inevitable end.

    ¡°I refuse.¡±

    They broke their staring contest as both turned to Umphrieltalia with surprise.

    ¡°You¡­are refusing to aide an agent of the crown in her duties?¡± Orphelia asked slowly. Almost incredulously.

    Umphrieltalia nodded.

    ¡°You do realize that this will not help your chances of becoming head interrogator. The position does not simply require mastery of the mental affinity. It comes with the expectation of loyalty.¡±

    The dorm mother slowly opened her eyes, revealing her strangely inverted gaze. Milky white eyes, made more vivid from the black surrounding them, stared at Orphelia with an intensity that would make one call into question her lack of sight.

    ¡°You may be an agent of the crown but that does not mean that you are working for the crown in this moment. Your mission was to protect the members of your team. One of them has been murdered under suspicious circumstances. It is reasonable to doubt your judgment. When I receive a royal decree to question Lourianne Tome, I will do so.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± Alyssa felt an unseemly amount of joy seeing the young woman put in her place, though it didn¡¯t last very long. Orphelia recovered far too quickly, her shock turning into blank contemplation as she stared at the dorm mother. ¡°We¡¯re done here. I¡¯m sure you have to contact whoever you work for.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Orphelia stood, gave them a shallow curtesy that might have been more mockery than manners, and left the room.

    ¡°Not even a day before this shit has started. Good on you for turning her down. Brat is far too cocky.¡± Alyssa turned to the dorm mother. ¡°Not that I believe that bull about doubting her judgment for a second. Why did you really reject an agent of the crown and jeopardize your future?¡±

    ¡°I have not jeopardized my future,¡± Umphrieltalia said simply. ¡°Isn¡¯t it time for the next interview? Lourianne and Alana seem to be the only ones present for the incident and we can save time inviting them both in.¡±

    ¡°Sure, why the hell not? We have what we need to know.¡± More importantly, she just wanted today over with so she could go home, close the shades, get drunk, and pretend she wasn¡¯t involved in this shitstorm.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-97

    I¡¯m a little surprised when Alana and I are called into the study together after Orphelia¡¯s daring entrance and exit but I won¡¯t complain being in a room full of beautiful women. I wave for Alana to take the empty seat and perch on the end of the table. A shiver of delight rolls down my spine as the two women stare at me. Maybe I do have a thing for older women after all. ¡°I have to admit, I¡¯m a little excited at the thought of you two interrogating me.¡±

    Miss Alyssa sighs deeply. ¡°We already know what happened but I just want you to clear up a few details. For starters¡ª¡±

    She¡¯s interrupted by Miss Talia standing from her chair. All eyes are on her as she walks around the table and stands before me. ¡°Lou,¡± she says in that mesmerizing voice.

    I grin helplessly. ¡°Been a while. How have you been?¡±

    ¡°Busy. Many instructors have come to me with questions about the initiates under my care. You are also aware of the recent upheaval in the capital.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Are the interrogators giving you trouble too?¡±

    ¡°For reasons I am unaware, the king is drawing clear lines between his allies and his enemies. Not only that, but his allies are being tested.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Good thing all of that is several leagues away.¡±

    ¡°If you two are done gossiping,¡± Miss Alyssa snaps. Miss Talia glances at her but doesn¡¯t move. The instructor scoffs. ¡°Tell me what happened.¡±

    Alana takes the initiative to answer. ¡°While we were preparing to leave the Sanctuary, a team of five initiates on horseback approached us. A man who named himself as Ethor spoke to us. He announced his intentions to rob Robert¡¯s team of their points and offered to pay us to stay out of the conflict.¡±

    ¡°Right, that. According to the other team, he and Lou spoke privately before she agreed to leave them alone.¡± The redhead gives me a squinty-eyed glare. ¡°Someone accused you of collaborating with them in the assault.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess. Mr. Talented?¡± What is it with privileged young men and accusing me of heinous crimes?

    ¡°Why did you leave your then allies to face a threat alone? It wasn¡¯t gold. Your wife has enough of that.¡±

    ¡°True. It wasn¡¯t gold.¡± I lean toward her. ¡°Thing is, he promised to introduce me to a good courtesan. Really good apparently. Called it a whole experience. He piqued my interest and I wasn¡¯t too fond of my supposed allies so I decided to leave them to it.¡±

    ¡°¡­I should have known. Don¡¯t you get enough between your wife and thrall? And apparently, you¡¯re involved with your guide?¡±

    ¡°Are you asking because of the investigation or for personal reasons?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°What did you see of the fight?¡±

    ¡°Not much.¡±

    ¡°Ethor engaged the entire team,¡± Alana elaborates. ¡°I couldn¡¯t see what the attack was but the whole team besides Orphelia fell to the ground. Then a dome of darkness surrounded them.¡±

    ¡°Darkness? That girl has the light affinity?¡±

    ¡°She is a blade,¡± Miss Talia says. ¡°Assassins and spies utilized by the king¡¯s advisors. The light affinity itself carries significant political weight. One cannot be allowed to flaunt it. Unless the child has a significant family background, they are ¡®adopted¡¯ by the crown and trained to handle unsavory matters. Indoctrinated at a young age, their loyalty is unshakable¡­supposedly.¡±

    Saints.

    ¡°But Orphelia isn¡¯t some woe begone orphan. She¡¯s the daughter of a baron. I¡¯m sure he could kick up a significant fuss,¡± Alana says heatedly.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Alana¡­¡± I say carefully, remembering Orphelia¡¯s words to her. If she wasn¡¯t the daughter of Duke James, a noble with forces able to rival the capital, would she have also been taken from her home and trained to murder people on command?

    ¡°For a low noble like him, the crown taking an interest in his daughter was probably a dream come true. If he is like any other noble, he probably happily cooperated with them and milked the situation for all its worth.¡±

    My friend glares at me.

    The sound of deep swallows draws my attention. Miss Alyssa sets down a bottle of Herbanacle. ¡°Haha, can¡¯t believe I thought I¡¯d heard everything. At least your story matches the others.¡±

    ¡°What will be done about Orphelia?¡± Alana asks.

    ¡°Done? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°She murdered four people in cold blood,¡± the future saint says icily. ¡°Only one of them attacked her team. Before the dome of darkness hid what happened, Ethor¡¯s teammates tried to help him escape. They had not presented as hostile and she made no attempt to negotiate a surrender.¡±

    She gives me a pointed look and I nod. ¡°Yep, saw the same thing.¡±

    Miss Alyssa scratches her head. ¡°Ah. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re expecting.¡±

    ¡°For her to be detained and her crimes investigated,¡± she replies slowly, as if the answer is obvious.

    ¡°We can detain her, sure. I¡¯m investigating right now. But I don¡¯t think that is enough to satisfy you. You want to see her punished.¡±

    Alana nods. ¡°She did something wrong. She deserves to be punished.¡±

    ¡°See, that¡¯s where things get complicated. If she is really working for the saints damned royal advisors, they are not going to be happy about us stepping on their toes. Especially not for the sake of possible rebels. Say what you like, this Ethor did kill Sebas Hoffen. Under the circumstances, she had enough reason to justify lethal force.¡±

    ¡°So¡­nothing¡¯s going to happen?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not up to me. It¡¯s up to the Grandmaster. My opinion? He bans her from the Hall but that¡¯s about all he can do without getting into a pissing contest with the king.¡±

    ¡°She was right,¡± my friend mutters. Then she jumps to her feet and storms out of the room.

    I¡¯m ready to follow her but a soft grip on my arm stops me. I turn to Miss Talia curiously.

    ¡°There was something else I wanted to question you about.¡± To anyone not used to her, her face would seem blank but I know her well enough to see the slightest bend of her lips showing her unhappiness. ¡°In their memories, I saw you and Orphelia Yemen. Before you were with the guide.¡±

    ¡°Ah. You saw that?¡±

    My smile freezes as her fingers gently brush my cheek. They¡¯re a little cool. She must be someone who runs cold. ¡°Do you love them?¡±

    ¡°¡­no. Cloud is a friend, a very good one. Orphelia¡­that was something done in the moment.¡±

    ¡°Kierra told me to be more open with how I feel. I am¡­upset that you were intimate with another woman before me.¡±

    I know she doesn¡¯t mean that the way it sounds. In her mind, she sees intimacy as a currency to buy my favor. She thinks Orphelia is taking her opportunity to get close me. Her attraction to me is middling if it even exists at all. I know that, but my heart can¡¯t help thudding in my chest.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a relationship with Orphelia,¡± I say, cupping her hand and nuzzling into it. ¡°Not like what we have, Talia. I¡¯ve missed you.¡±

    ¡°I will find time to see you.¡± She hesitates a moment before leaning forward to brush her lips over mine. Grinning, I follow her as she retreats, claiming another kiss, just a simple peck. Have to be careful with her.

    A groan makes me look over my shoulder. Miss Alyssa is staring at the two of us incredulously. ¡°Is it me?¡± she asks no one as her gaze wanders to the ceiling. ¡°Am I the crazy one?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t knock it till you try it,¡± I quip.

    In response, she finishes off the bottle of Herbanacle and stands up. ¡°I¡¯m taking a vacation,¡± she declares firmly and stomps out of the room.

    Once the door slams shut behind her, I turn back to Miss Talia. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I am fine.¡±

    ¡°Despite rejecting Orphelia?¡± The tiniest twitch in her brows shows her confusion. I tap my ears. ¡°Strength wasn¡¯t the only thing I wanted from my new form.¡±

    ¡°I see. Yes. I have long understood that choosing to align myself with you would likely put me at odds with the crown. I cannot pursue the crown¡¯s agenda and my own. Between the two, I will always choose my own.¡±

    A woman after my own heart. I lazily reach out, putting my arms on her shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you can stick around today?¡±

    ¡°No. I will need to be present with Alyssa when she reports to the Grandmaster. Then I will have to inform my contact in the interrogators about what has transpired before Orphelia sends her own report. Do not worry. I have been playing the game for a long time.¡±

    ¡°If something goes wrong, come to me. I will protect you.¡±

    Her head tilts. ¡°You can protect me from the entirety of the kingdom? Mental casters of my ability are not allowed to simply roam free. Especially one with my training and access.¡±

    ¡°I can and I will. Do you believe me?¡±

    She nods slowly. ¡°I do. It is why I am interested in you, Lou.¡± She carefully steps out of my arms. ¡°I must get going. The sooner this situation is handled, the sooner I can return to personal matters. I have been waiting patiently.¡±

    ¡°So have I,¡± I mutter, unconsciously licking my lips. I hop off the table and hurry to the door, opening it with a smile.

    One that quickly fades when I see the chaos in the other room.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-98

    [That was a mistake, Orphie.]

    Orphelia wanted to curse when she heard the playful voice of the thrall in her mind. She¡¯d had no choice but to play subservient within the Sanctuary but the creature was sorely mistaken if it thought she was so easy to control. She¡¯d lasted years under the systematic abuse of her father without being destroyed. A day being manipulated wouldn¡¯t break her will.

    All she needed to do was bide her time. The mental affinity was powerful but it was not infallible. She may not be able to sense the influence on her mind but certainly Umphrieltalia, the head interrogator¡¯s heir apparent, certainly could. The woman¡¯s mere presence made the thrall useless.

    She believed the creature when it said that she wouldn¡¯t be able to prove that it had been involved in Sebas¡¯ death but that was no matter. No proof it had done something illegal wouldn¡¯t be enough to save it once she made a report on the creature¡¯s abilities and intentions. She simply needed to stay close to the dorm mother until then.

    There remained a possibility that the thrall would alert Lourianne Tome of her failed ploy and the summoner would escape. She had hoped to curtail that by questioning her and having Umphrieltalia reveal the creature¡¯s motives. She could have never predicted that the dorm mother would refuse to cooperate with her.

    [Poor little blade. You think you have all the answers but you know nothing.]

    Are you still playing games? Aren¡¯t you afraid you will be discovered?

    [Projecting a message into someone¡¯s mind is not illegal. We are simply having a conversation without the need for speaking.]

    Hmph. I don¡¯t need to play your games any longer. Leave me alone.

    [Have you forgotten your lesson already?]

    Oh no. You made your point. You are an entity to be respected and feared. I have no doubt that you can cause significant damage if left unchecked. Which is why I will ensure that you are caught or destroyed. Whatever it takes.

    [Even though cooperating would lead to much more benefit?]

    Perhaps. Orphelia would be lying if she said she hadn¡¯t thought about it, something she couldn¡¯t do before the thrall anyhow. Being promised her greatest desires, even the ones she apparently didn¡¯t know about, was certainly tempting.

    In the end, it comes down to trust. I don¡¯t trust people despite understanding them. Why would I trust a being of an entirely different species that I¡¯ve been acquainted with for less than a week with absolutely no idea as to its true goals or rationale? The reward does not justify the risk.

    The creature laughed, a pleasant sound despite the chills it sent down her spine. [How amusing. No need to worry, my blade. I told you, I know you. Did you think I didn¡¯t see this coming? I knew it would take more to convince you. First, you needed to be convinced of my ability. Now, you need to see how far I am willing to go. To know that I will do things you cannot imagine to progress my agenda.]

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Orphelia scoffed inwardly. There is nothing you can do that I cannot imagine.

    [And if I said I would arrange your death?]

    She almost gave away their conversation by laughing out loud. You¡¯re threatening to kill me? That¡¯s it? I have lived with the threat of death lingering over me since I was a child! Orphelia was prepared to listen to a monologue depicting horrific torture. Perhaps being locked in her mind while the creature used suggestions to puppet her body. That would be truly horrifying.

    [Yes. You know the threat of death. You have learned to bow to those of greater strength, to skirt the edges of consequences. This is not a threat. You¡¯re going to die, Orphelia Yemen. No chance to run, plot, or fight. No chance to make amends. No punishment to show you your place. You will die.]

    ¡­you¡¯re bluffing. If you kill me, they kill you and your summoner, no matter how powerful you are. You wouldn¡¯t risk that.

    [As I said, you need to understand how far I am willing to go. Did you know? Succubi are immortal. We can be killed but we do not age. One cannot simply spend all that time consolidating power. You need an interest. This is mine. Risk? I love risks. I crave them. It makes victory all the sweeter. Besides, you are misunderstanding something. I said I would arrange your death. That doesn¡¯t mean a direct assault. I didn¡¯t lift a finger in the Sanctuary, did I?]

    You admit to killing him then?

    [I admit to speaking to you. To asking a simple question. Did I intervene or did you fail? That question is punishment enough, is it not? Because you will never know. You will always doubt. Everyone will always doubt. If I exited your life right now, that single question will punish you for the rest of your life. But you don¡¯t need to worry about that as your life will soon be ending.]

    Mention of her dead charge made Orphelia¡¯s stomach twist with nerves. Was the creature right? Were events being manipulated at that very moment to orchestrate her end? No. What could the thrall do in a room full of people, a room full of witnesses, with a powerful mental caster in the other room?

    [You assume she will aide you.]

    Orphelia¡¯s mind spun faster. Umphrieltalia had refused to aide her. Was it really because she didn¡¯t trust Orphelia¡¯s judgment? Or was it because the creature had already gotten to her, whispering her a sweet deal?

    Not many would resist when offered everything they could ever want. If they came to an agreement, the only thing protecting her from the creature¡¯s power was gone.

    She was vulnerable. She had to escape, while she still could. Distance weakened the power of any spell. If she could reach the dorm, no. She had to leave the Hall. Send a message from Quest and then ride for the capital. It wouldn¡¯t be good to leave her current assignment without any word but the information she had was more important. Her father would understand. She was useless to him as a corpse.

    Or perhaps this was what the creature wanted. Her, panicking and running away from the safety of Umphrieltalia. She hadn¡¯t said they were cooperators, only hinted at it. Or had she?

    Her head snapped around as she heard the clomp of the thrall moving closer, smiling toothily as she edged closer to Orphelia. It was the smile that made up her mind. No one could see a bad thought in the curve of her lips or the shape of her eyes. She was the picture of innocence. Had the creature stomped up to her in a primal rage, Orphelia would have been far more comfortable.

    True assassins were never seen coming. You¡¯d be having a friendly conversation over a cup of tea one moment and the next, your heart stopped beating. You could bump into a child running errands only to feel a pinch in your gut and look down to see a knife in your stomach.

    As the thrall walked toward her with an expression that said she wanted to be the best of friends, Orphelia was suddenly convinced that the creature wanted to kill her. That if that being came anywhere near her, she would cease to exist.

    The thought, and the utter certainty that came with it, terrified her.

    Her body moved by itself as she stood from the couch, ignoring the looks she got as she moved toward the door. But she only made it a couple of steps before the door to the study was thrown open and a pinched-faced Alana stepped out. The hard blue eyes immediately spotted Orphelia, took in her retreat, and her frown deepened.

    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-99

    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡±

    Orphelia suppressed a sigh. She debated ignoring the obvious challenge. There was no way a woman of such staunch morals would strike her back. She doubted Alana was capable of striking her at all without true provocation, as it would mean breaking the law she held so dear.

    However, the interruption intruded on her panic. And Orphelia thought of something; she did not panic. That had been trained out of her. She could despair, certainly, but she did not allow circumstances to compromise her decisions. One of the most important keys to making effective decisions was to keep emotions out of them. They only hindered rationale.

    She had not been thinking rationally when she practically ran out of the room. An all-encompassing fear had taken over her mind, telling her she needed to get away at all costs. It occurred to her that the fear might not have been her own.

    How stupid. Why would she run away from Umphrieltalia? The dorm mother was not compromised. Even supposing the thrall had more skill, thralls were reported to have coefficients no larger than four hundred.

    She didn¡¯t know Umphrieltalia¡¯s, as the number was something quite private amongst casters, but if they wanted her to be the next head interrogator, it had to at least be near five hundred, if not at or above. There was no way she would not detect an intrusion on her mind and she would win in a contest of pure power.

    It was all a ploy to get her alone where the thrall could easily take care of her. And she would have fallen for it if not for the timely intervention of the future knight who stared at her like Orphelia was a pile of shit she had just stepped in.

    As payment, Orphelia decided to entertain her. Really, she couldn¡¯t help herself from poking the blonde and watching her squirm. Maybe it was jealously that Alana James, daughter of a duke, had gotten to lead a life she never could. Perhaps it was a quirk of her personality that had developed to enjoy the pain and discomfort of others. A saint could not do the work demanded of her.

    Either way, she crafted a smug smile, one she knew would irritate the other woman.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s any of your concern, Lady James.¡± The frown morphed into a scowl. Orphelia didn¡¯t understand Alana¡¯s hatred of her title. If she had that kind of power, she certainly wouldn¡¯t hesitate to use it. Someone who refused to use all the tools at their disposal was a fool.

    ¡°Lady Filigree did not see fit to detain me. I have not been charged with a crime. That makes me a free citizen of the kingdom, able to come and go as I please. There is much to be done in the wake of my friend¡¯s untimely demise. I¡¯m sure you understand.¡±

    ¡°You are a murderess. They were retreating. With how quickly you took them down, you could have simply injured them instead.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the praise. My tutors taught me well, including to never show mercy to my enemies. A lion can be brought down by ants if it isn¡¯t careful.¡±

    ¡°You could have taken out their mounts and signaled us for aide.¡±

    ¡°After you so recently left us to face the threat alone? Forgive me if I wasn¡¯t willing to rely on your charity. Besides, I could hardly hold up my head if I allowed another one of my charges to die because I hesitated to do what needs to be done. I would think you knew about duty.¡±

    ¡°Duty?¡± Alana scoffed. ¡°You were not thinking of your duty. Otherwise, you would have done everything in your power to ensure Ethor was detained with as few injuries as possible and he would be the one being interrogated rather than us. What has your actions accomplished? Nothing. You lost a team member and have gained absolutely nothing in return. And yet you proudly strut away as if all is well. It¡¯s disgraceful.¡±

    Orphelia¡¯s smile twitched. She may be a forsaken daughter, her father¡¯s tool, and perhaps she was lacking as a person, but she did have her pride. Pride that wouldn¡¯t be trampled on by another ignorant, spoiled noble.

    ¡°Disgraceful, you say.¡± She stepped toward Alana but someone else ran toward her.

    ¡°Enough.¡± Robert held her arm tightly, reddened eyes narrowed. ¡°Everyone is hurting. Fighting amongst ourselves won¡¯t make it better.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Robert, thank you for stating the obvious.¡± She pinched his wrist and used some strength to move his hand aside. ¡°However, you¡¯ve misunderstood. We are not fighting. We are having a discussion.¡±

    He looked at her doubtfully. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It is a poor discussion if one cannot share their opinions freely. Lady James is free to insult me to her heart¡¯s content if that is what she believes. Just as I believe she is an ignorant, spineless, weak fool who disgraces the affinity she was blessed with and all who came before her.¡±

    Alana stiffened. Robert opened his mouth in another attempt to diffuse the escalating tension in the room but was cut off by Alana.

    ¡°Ignorant? Spineless? Weak?¡±

    ¡°But not hard of hearing. Good for you.¡±

    There was a short bout of laughter that ended when Alana turned her gaze to Arthur. When she turned back to Orphelia, her glare could have burned a hole through a steel ingot. ¡°I admit, I am ignorant of what could make someone so callous in regard to life and the reaping of it. As for spineless and weak¡ª¡±

    She slid her sword from her sheathe, just enough to flash the metal of the blade. ¡°We can test that.¡±

    Orphelia scoffed. ¡°Please, Lady James. A lady of your delicate sensibilities shouldn¡¯t play with sharp objects, you¡¯re liable to hurt yourself.¡± Her smile faded. ¡°I could kill you before your weapon is fully drawn, you know.¡±

    ¡°You are not the only one with the light affinity.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I am far more practiced than you.¡± She walked forward, dodging Robert¡¯s outstretched hand, and stopped an arm¡¯s length from the blonde. They glared at each other as she spread her arms demonstratively. ¡°Here. I am in striking distance but I am entirely confident I will still win. It is a little disappointing really. Someone with the light affinity is treasured. I imagine you had the best tutors the duke¡¯s gold could buy and countless resources yet you are still only above average. If that is not disgraceful, I don¡¯t know what is.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    There was no way Orphelia could miss the change in her expression, the slightest grimace. Her mind whirred and her lips turned up in a mocking smile. ¡°Or maybe you didn¡¯t? I assumed from you being at the Hall and having the coveted light affinity that you were a spoiled daughter, but that isn¡¯t right, is it? I should have seen it before. Your subpar equipment. Your disdain of your title. I don¡¯t think I recall you ever being in Gold Dorm. Not even the famous hard-ass duke would treat his princess that way, especially not a weapon he was cultivating to cleave through the Bleak Peaks. You¡­you¡¯re a bastard, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    She chuckled at the way Alana flinched and raised her voice. ¡°An unloved bastard from what, a mistress? An affair? Did your father mount a maid while she was cleaning his floor? What does that make you? A daughter of convenience?¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± the blonde growled.

    ¡°No wonder you don¡¯t use your title. Do you even know if it¡¯s yours to claim? I¡¯ve heard Fort Victory has a tradition of checking every child¡¯s affinity in hopes of finding promising soldiers. You could have simply been granted the light affinity by fate and your mother claimed to have a dalliance with the duke himself. He certainly wouldn¡¯t deny you. And really, I doubt he¡¯s kept track of how many whores he¡¯s had. Ah, well. You may not have noble blood but at least no one can say your mother is a fool.¡±

    ¡°Orphie!¡± Robert shouted. His eyes moved to the seething Alana before darting away, face flushed from secondhand embarrassment. ¡°You¡¯ve said too much.¡±

    ¡°Relax. Did I make any false claims? No. I simply made suggestions, ones she¡¯s free to deny. So? Are you a bastard?¡±

    ¡°That means nothing,¡± she said through grit teeth.

    ¡°No? I don¡¯t see you proclaiming it with pride. Not that I blame you. Bloodline is rather important to Harvest nobles. I mean, I doubt Lou would be as interested in you if she knew you were the daughter of a maid and a stable boy.¡±

    Again, the change in her expression was impossible to miss. Alana¡¯s lip trembled as she struggled to contain her reaction to the words, her hands gripping her weapon in a white-knuckled grip. And like a predator smelling blood, Orphelia pounced on weakened prey.

    Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. ¡°Do you think you are fooling anyone? Or perhaps your reticence is an immature attempt at seduction? I see the way you look at her. Everyone can. Though now I understand why you haven¡¯t acted on your feelings. I can¡¯t imagine how she would feel believing she has a relationship with Victory¡¯s little princess, only to find out that you had tricked her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never tricked her!¡± Alana hissed. ¡°She knows who I am. She¡­wants me because of me.¡±

    Orphelia twisted her features into a mask of sympathy. ¡°Yes, she is so enamored with a stout, prudish, plain-looking woman who constantly rejects her advances. Be honest with yourself, Alana. If not for your lineage, why else would she be interested? Perhaps your shiny light affinity. If so, I am far more attractive. I even have two affinities.¡±

    She let out a theatrical gasp, covering her mouth with a hand. ¡°Is that what this is all about? Haha, I can¡¯t believe I thought you cared about some pointless laws. You feel threatened by me! That I¡¯m going to steal your woman!¡±

    ¡°No! This is about what¡¯s right and what¡¯s wrong! You should not walk away without punishment.¡±

    ¡°You mean you want me arrested so that you can continue being the only light in Lou¡¯s life.¡± Orphelia smiled. ¡°I was going to leave early but perhaps I should stick around. Lou seems quite considerate of the women she favors and I wouldn¡¯t mind a repeat of¡ª¡±

    Most of the kingdom¡¯s fighters focused on either magical or martial prowess. Those with strong affinities like fire and earth gravitated toward magic while those with water and wind, the affinities that required far more finesse to be useful on a battlefield in most scenarios, trained their bodies, using magic as a tool in their arsenal as opposed to dedicating their life to it. It was a rare thing to see a caster who fully utilized both. Even at the Hall that churned out the best of the best, the acolytes tended to specialize.

    Orphelia was no exception. She had been trained in both from a young age but specialized in magic. Her light affinity was her greatest asset. Without access to a melder, something she could only dream of, her body could hardly compare with spells strong enough to burn through dragonscale, despite it being weakened without a dragon¡¯s magic enhancing it.

    Compared to Alana, who had mainly focused on training her body, and who had been trained by Kierra, who ¡°encouraged¡± her muscles to reach their optimum state, the best she could do without outright changing her, she was slow. She saw the moment Alana decided to attack and started building her spell but was far too slow to do anything about the hilt that slammed into her stomach or the kick that knocked her to the ground.

    However, pain wasn¡¯t enough to stop her. She released her spell and bright light strobed throughout the room in quick flashes, drawing panicked yelps and muffled curses. Orphelia heard furniture topple over and bodies slamming into other things with loud thuds, but she ignored it, casting another spell to shield her eyes.

    Alana could do no such thing. Her eyes were shut tightly and her head bowed as she held her sword at the ready. Orphelia strongly suspected that if she got to her feet or made a sound, the knight-to-be would zero in on her and use her sword to deadly effect.

    It was a good thing then that casting could be done silently.

    She needed much less time with her spell this time having only a single target. A thin beam of light burned through the shoulder of Alana¡¯s sword arm. The blonde grit her teeth as she dropped her blade. Orphelia jumped to her feet and rushed her.

    As expected, Alana knew the moment she moved, head snapping towards her. A kick lashed out at her, but Orphelia dodged, throwing a heavy cross. Alana dodging the blow she couldn¡¯t see was surprising, but it was clumsy, made more so as she stumbled. Lack of vision was incredibly disorientating, especially when it was brought on suddenly and the person afflicted had to contend with pain and an immediate threat. It was why she favored the tactic so much.

    The blonde was stronger, faster, and more experienced in a brawl but Orphelia still knocked her to the ground. She dropped, putting extra weight behind the knee she drove into Alana¡¯s gut. Payback for her own ribs that would no doubt be bruised. Pulling a knife from under her robe, she canceled her spell.

    As the light stopped flashing, Alana opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. She quickly focused on the knife held over her.

    ¡°I could kill you right now,¡± Orphelia said softly. ¡°All I have to do is drop my hand.¡± She called on her mana and her eyes glowed. ¡°Or one little spell.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to do it, do it,¡± Alana growled, despite shaking.

    ¡°Now, now. That¡¯s only impressive if you mean it, Lady James. I have found that no one is truly unafraid of death. Oh, plenty will risk their lives or even sacrifice themselves for a cause. But no one wants to die on a living room floor because they couldn¡¯t keep their mouth shut.¡±

    ¡°You kill me, it¡¯ll be the last thing you do.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I might be punished but you attacked me first. How was I to know you weren¡¯t another assassin? This is simply another case of self-defense. You¡ª¡±

    Her next words were cut off as a tight pressure closed around her throat and she found her feet dangling in the air. She met a violet gaze filled with anger, but not the usual burning, face-flushing, loss of temper that accompanied a disagreement.

    It was cold, unflinching rage.

    Dread knotted Orphelia¡¯s stomach as she thought how the scene must have looked from another perspective. She knew she wasn¡¯t going to harm Alana but anyone else would simply see her pinning the other girl down and holding a knife as if to strike.

    She tried to explain that it wasn¡¯t what it looked like but the only sound her abused throat could produce was a thin wheeze.

    [Goodbye, Orphie.]

    Orphelia¡¯s eyes widened in realization. Then she both heard and felt the bones of her neck snap a moment before the world went dark.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-100

    People are in odd positions, either leaning against the furniture that hasn¡¯t been overturned or balancing against the wall, as if afraid the ground will collapse under them. One of my walls has a hole burned into it, the charred spot slightly smoking. I can hear people in the house rushing over, along with a more sedate set of footsteps coming down the stairs.

    But none of that is important. My gaze locks onto Orphelia and Alana. Orphelia, crouched over my friend, blade in hand. Alana, staring her down, trying to hold back the fear I can smell coming off her.

    In that moment, I¡¯m taken back to my wedding. Instead of Alana, I see Kierra sprawled on the ground, grimacing in pain while her magic fought to keep her alive despite the hole in her chest and her mangled heart. Her attacker that fled after he thought he destroyed my life.

    I remember the fear of losing her and, just as before, hot anger overrides it, directed at the thing attempting to take something precious from me.

    In the blink of an eye, I grab Orphelia by the throat and lift her off Alana. She croaks. Does she want to explain? Tell me it¡¯s not what I think it is? Apologize?

    Too late.

    With scary ease, I snap her neck and drop her limp body. I stare at it unflinchingly. It¡¯s a shame I had to do it but between her and Alana, there¡¯s no choice. I¡¯m a little angry at myself that I didn¡¯t notice anything was wrong until it was almost too late. I heard noises that could have indicated something was wrong but ignored them while focusing on Miss Talia. At least I didn¡¯t compound on my mistake with hesitation. I certainly won¡¯t let the unthinkable happen because I balked at the thought of taking someone¡¯s life.

    The rest of the room does not share my uncaring attitude to the act of murder. There is a beat of stunned silence, all eyes on Orphelia. Then Cecile screams and the room devolves into panic.

    She tumbles in her haste to put distance between her and her dead friend. Well, dying. Her heart is still stubbornly pumping but it won¡¯t last long. No one seeing the bend in her neck would think she¡¯s still alive.

    Despite that, Lanston still throws himself at her side, hands hovering over her. I almost feel bad for him seeing his eyes water and his lips quiver. It¡¯s a bit much for someone to lose two friends in a day.

    ¡°You!¡±

    I casually deflect Robert as he runs at me with a roar, shoving him toward the wall. He yells in pain as he trips and slams into it, but I ignore him, eyes on Geneva. Why in the nine hells did you let anyone get that close to her with a weapon?

    [She had no intention to kill or severely injure her, my summoner,] Geneva¡¯s voice replies demurely. [Also, your sun initiated the conflict. I thought I would let her see it through to the end.]

    She cannot lie to me but I can¡¯t help but feel she is hiding something. Normally, she would have intervened and told me about it to garner goodwill. If she forsook the opportunity, that means that she gained something else by letting events play out. But what? Amusement? Did she know how I would react? Why would she want Orphelia to die?

    [I only act in your best interests, Lou. That is our agreement.]

    Mm. You better pray to whatever higher power you believe in that your games never injure someone I care about. Look into my mind. You know what I would do.

    She flashes me a smile. [Yes. Perhaps more thoroughly than you yourself.]

    ¡°Fuck!¡± I turn to Miss Alyssa. Her gaze bounces between me and Orphelia, her lips pressed together in a tense frown. Her gaze finally settles on me. ¡°What the hell did you think you were doing?¡± she shouts.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking. I saw a threat and I acted.¡±

    ¡°You acted?! Stop playing games! Do you think that kind of excuse is going to fly?¡± A hand angrily pushes through her hair before a ball of fire appears in her palm. ¡°You know I have to take you in.¡±

    ¡°Throw that spell at my wife and it will be the last thing you ever do.¡±

    The room turns to the stairs as Kierra descends the last one. Her gaze is narrowed, focused on the immediate threat that is Miss Alyssa as she stalks across the room to stand at my side.

    ¡°Fuck! Kierra, I don¡¯t want to fight you but I just watched that stupid brat murder someone!.¡±

    Kierra looks down at Orphelia and the despondent Lanston beside her, hands balled in his lap as he cries. Then she huffs. ¡°If she is dead, I am sure there is good reason.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± Miss Alyssa shouts incredulously.

    ¡°My Lou is rather soft-hearted. She isn¡¯t the type to kill someone without cause.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re calling someone who just snapped a girl¡¯s neck soft-hearted?¡±

    ¡°She had a blade on Alana,¡± I explain.

    ¡°Ah, see. Perfectly understandable. Really, kicking up such a fuss for a natural sequence of events. I don¡¯t know what the foolish girl thought would happen, attacking one of us in our own home. Lou, you¡¯re a saint for killing her as quickly as you did.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking clearly. My instinct was to eliminate the threat.¡±

    ¡°Mm, you¡¯ve grown so much~¡±

    Miss Alyssa stares at the elf helplessly, realizing that if she wants to detain me for my recent bout of murder, she¡¯s going to have to through a very protective elf capable of fighting the Grandmaster himself. She turns to Miss Talia in desperation, the dorm mother silently standing in the doorway of the study. ¡°Oi, say something!¡±

    ¡°¡­Lourianne Tome took reasonable action in defense of another.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡±

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Upon concluding the interview, I saw Orphelia Yemen holding a blade while pinning Alana James to the floor. I can attest that Lourianne Tome feared for her friend¡¯s safety truly, having no context of the situation. She acted on the information she had, that Orphelia Yemen was an immediate threat to Alana James¡¯ life, and neutralized her.¡± She turned to Miss Alyssa, who gaped at the dorm mother while she defended my actions. ¡°A tragic misunderstanding.¡±

    ¡°¡­fuck.¡± Miss Alyssa dismisses the spell in her hand, recognizing the futility of a fight. She glares at me before shaking her head. ¡°Forget a vacation,¡± she mutters under her breath. ¡°I fucking quit. I did not sign up for this shit.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just going to let her go?!¡±

    Mr. Talented doesn¡¯t look good, his bloodshot eyes opened wide and nostrils flaring. He wildly gestures toward Orphelia. ¡°She just killed someone in front of you and you¡¯re not going to do anything about it?! Is this what the Hall considers justice?!¡±

    Yeah, I suppose. Orphelia didn¡¯t expect consequences for killing the people who assaulted her teammates. Why would I be punished for doing the exact same thing? Sure, I may have another ¡®punishment¡¯ like my time at the Sanctuary but I don¡¯t mind a little labor. They could kick me out the Hall and I wouldn¡¯t care. I would make the same decision, every time. Nothing is worth watching Alana get hurt.

    ¡°You! All of you!¡± The poor hero-to-be can¡¯t get a proper sentence out through his frustration. Somehow, he decides attacking me again is a good idea and takes a heavy step forward, eyes aglow.

    ¡°If they won¡¯t stop you, I¡ª¡±

    He doesn¡¯t get to finish his declaration because Earl is suddenly behind him. A quick kick to the back of his knee makes Mr. Talented stumble and then my steward has an arm around his neck and a small knife at his jugular.

    ¡°Kindly do not threaten the lady of the house, sir guest,¡± he says calmly, as if he¡¯s reprimanding him for putting his dirty shoes on the couch rather than threatening to kill him.

    Luckily, the poor hero still has some survival instincts working as he shuts up and his eyes lose their glow. He slumps as much as he is able with Earl holding him up, completely defeated. Exhaustion covers him like a heavy cloak. No more righteous fury, no more frustration, no more sadness. Nothing.

    ¡­I think we may have broken him.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    I turn to Alana as she gets to her feet. She winces, one hand hovering over a wound on her shoulder, but never takes her eyes off Orphelia. After several heavy moments, she turns to face me, swallowing. ¡°Please¡­save her.¡±

    I look at her incredulously. ¡°Alana, she wanted to hurt you.¡± I will do a lot of things for you but knowingly put you in danger, even if it¡¯s simply healing someone who wishes her harm, is not one of them.

    ¡°No. It wasn¡¯t¡­¡± She swallows again. ¡°I¡­I started it.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± If Alana felt the need to throw the first punch, I am even more reassured in my decision. The future saint does not attack good people or people with good intentions.

    She bites her lower lip, clearly reticent. Then she takes two steps forward and lowers her head, burying her face in my chest. A definite surprise but a welcome one. ¡°I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to pay. Seeing her casually throw away people¡¯s lives¡­it reminded me of my father.¡± She takes a deep, shuddering breath. ¡°The way he uses people. Knights giving their lives for the prosperity of his land are just numbers. I was, am, nothing but a number, my worth determined how much value I can bring to the family.¡±

    ¡°Alana¡­¡± I whisper, carefully laying a hand on her head.

    ¡°I saw him in her. She looked at me like she was better than me. Like I was nothing, the same way the others used to look at me. I swore, no one would get away with treating me like garbage again.¡± Her strained voice is on the verge of cracking with tears. ¡°She reminded me of him, she reminded me of them, and then she threatened you. I¡­¡±

    ¡°Saints damn it, Alana,¡± I grumble, feeling a hand squeeze my heart.

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t going to kill me. She was gloating. And¡­maybe I deserved it for¡ª¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    She raises her head a fraction to meet my gaze.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care if you marched into the palace, slapped the king himself, called the queen a whore, and robbed the place blind. I don¡¯t care if you murdered every criminal in the kingdom, down to the thieving orphans. I don¡¯t care if you set fire to the whole of Fort Victory and hung your entire family from the walls. No one hurts you and gets away with it.¡±

    She swallows and hides her face again. Her good arm wraps around my waist and squeezes me gently. ¡°I¡­believe you, Lou. Okay? I believe you. So¡­save her. For me?¡±

    I grumble in discontent.

    ¡°Please¡­honey.¡±

    Damn it, Alana.

    ¡°Kii.¡±

    My wife chuckles, no doubt having heard every word of our whispered conversation. With a nonchalance that belies the tension in the room, she crouches next to Orphelia¡¯s corpse and places a hand on her chest.

    With a crack that is made louder by the heavy silence hanging over the room, Orphelia¡¯s neck straightens. A spark returns to her eyes as she sits up, inhaling sharply. Her chest heaves as her eyes frantically bounce around the room. This is the first time I¡¯ve seen such raw emotion from her. I can almost choke on the smell of her fear, it¡¯s so overpowering. ¡°Oi.¡±

    Her eyes snap to me and she flinches.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch my wife. Ever.¡±

    She nods sharply. Then she does something I could have never imagined. The snake in the guise of a woman, the cold-hearted killer who didn¡¯t so much as blink in the face of death while she was doling it out to her enemies, lies on her side, curls into a small ball, and silently cries. Her whimpers are so quiet, I¡¯m sure only the people with improved hearing can hear it. It¡¯s¡­a little disturbing.

    I think I might have broken another one.

    Geneva kindly takes a seat next to the crying killer and places a gentle hand on her head. A shudder runs through Orphelia¡¯s body but then she settles down, her whimpers slowly dying. What a beautiful scene.

    I¡¯m going to ignore the sinister undercurrent I can feel from it.

    Much better to focus on Alana, who still hasn¡¯t let go of me or raised her head from my chest. Kierra straightens up and places a hand on her shoulder. I don¡¯t have to see the pale green glow on her fingertips to know she¡¯s healing Alana¡¯s wounds. She leans forward and whispers against Alana¡¯s ear, ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting, little light.¡± Her voice is practically a purr and it has its intended effect as I see the ear redden. I flash my wife a grin that she returns. Heh.

    ¡°¡­are you kidding me?¡± I turn my head to look at Miss Alyssa, who is staring at Orphelia, dumbstruck. ¡°She¡­she brought her back from the dead.¡±

    ¡°Not true death,¡± Geneva says, drawing the instructor¡¯s attention. ¡°Two minutes and thirty-four seconds elapsed from the moment Orphelia¡¯s heart stopped beating to the time she received healing. It takes double that for the brain to die and as long as the brain remains, all can be restored. The rest of the body is simply parts made of flesh and blood.¡±

    ¡°It is good that the situation is resolved,¡± Miss Talia says.

    ¡°Haha, yeah. Resolved. I don¡¯t have to report another dead initiate to the Grandmaster or a dead asset to the crown, I got answers to my actual investigation, I got to witness fucking resurrection, and I don¡¯t have to fight the abyss-damned elf capable of it, along with whatever the fuck the brat is that she can move across the room and snap someone¡¯s neck in an instant. Haha, completely resolved! Great result!¡±

    She pauses, wearing a twitching smile. Then she launches a fireball at the ceiling. Cecile screams again but that¡¯s just nerves. No one is any danger from the assault on my property. I think she¡¯s one more major event from turning into a gibbering mess though. Saints, with the still sobbing Lanston, I think I may be four for four in ruining their team.

    The instructor, on the other hand, is purging all her emotions on our poor house, scorching the ceiling and the upper halves of the walls. She finishes while taking heaving breaths, glares at each of us, and stomps from the room. ¡°All of you are insane!¡± she shouts before marching out the front door, slamming it behind her.

    ¡­really, is that something she should say after vandalizing our home for no reason?

    ¡°I will make sure she is well and give my report,¡± Miss Talia says, also heading for the door. ¡°Until next time, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Bye~¡±

    Her exit is much quieter. I turn to the stragglers. All of them are shocked to their cores, including my teammates. Ah, they probably need a soothing touch right now, a balm to their fragile minds that have been battered by both terrible and terrific sights.

    ¡°What are all of you still doing here? Don¡¯t you have homes of your own? Investigation¡¯s over, get out.¡±

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-101

    Night falls. My home is clear of its unwelcome guests but there¡¯s one more body than usual at the dining table.

    I sit at the end. To my right is Kierra, sitting with her chin in her hand and a predatory look on her face. Across from her is Alana, fresh from a bath and dressed in my clothes. Her shoulder length blonde hair is fluffier than usual after being washed and dried through Geneva¡¯s magic. It only contributes to her shy appearance as she fidgets in her seat, looking at us through her bangs. The exact opposite of her usual headstrong temperament. I can¡¯t help finding it fascinating and my intense stare is probably contributing to her nerves.

    Geneva intrudes on our tense silence pushing a silver cart, tail swinging. She places small plates with a handful of what looks like pieces of sausage wrapped in golden bread in front of each of us, along with glasses of wine.

    Seeing as I¡¯ve got Alana in my clutches, hehe, I have to make sure she doesn¡¯t get away. I know she¡¯s a bit of a glutton so Geneva is putting in a little extra effort. Nothing on the level of a royal banquet, a simple five course meal to show off the benefits of the Tome household. The fish has already taken the bait so now I just have to pull her in.

    Predictably, Alana¡¯s nervousness is superseded by her desire for food. She picks up one of the golden morsels curiously. It¡¯s a testament to her trust in my succubus¡¯ skill that she pops the entire thing in her mouth. She freezes after the first bite, eyes fluttering shut as a muffled groan of pleasure escapes her tightly shut lips. Her jaw works faster and her eyes snap open as she swallows, eyeing the rest of the treats hungrily.

    ¡°Take it easy,¡± I tell her, starting with a sip of wine. Kierra worked in tandem with Howie to make a decent elven fruit wine by her standards, which means its liquid gold by Harvest standards. Pure affinities are honestly unfair. Forget rapid healing and shapeshifting. She can accelerate winemaking. Utterly ridiculous.

    Alana¡¯s hand freezes as she looks toward me. She flushes as I smile, trying to cover it by popping another treat in her mouth, chewing rapidly. The silence is dragging on. I¡¯m ready to say anything to break the awkward tension gaining strength but Kierra beats me to it.

    ¡°The elven continent is divided into five provinces,¡± she says between her own chewing. ¡°I am from Violet Dusk. In Dusk, we have a tradition of representing the current ruler in the name of the province. As my aunt, the current queen, is violet-skinned, it is Violet Dusk. Her mother before her was of similar color but before her, the province was called Cerulean Dusk. Before then, Twilight Dusk. That was a little confusing but as the monarch of Dusk is often the strongest fighter in the province, the people could do little to change it.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean that your aunt is stronger than your mother?¡± Saints. She must be a monster.

    ¡°They¡¯re a rare exception. Mother was more interested in finding worthy opponents than ruling. She would have fought to avoid being crowned.¡± Kierra turns her attention back to Alana. ¡°As fearsome as she is, even her relentless pursuit of power was overcome by the call of motherhood. She stopped hunting beasts and instead began to hunt potential partners.¡±

    Alana hastily swallows the food in her mouth. ¡°What do you mean¡­hunting partners?¡±

    ¡°It is exactly what you¡¯re thinking. She traversed different provinces and searched for the strongest men in each, though she tells me Dusk has the strongest warriors. If she found anyone that interested her¡­¡± She chuckles, flashing a bloodthirsty smile. ¡°She made them an offer they couldn¡¯t refuse.¡±

    I pause, setting down one of the sausages. ¡°Couldn¡¯t refuse? Do you mean¡­¡±

    ¡°That she wrestled them down and rode them like they were wild stallions? Yes.¡±

    Alana chokes on the sip of wine she was taking. I scoot my chair over and give her back a few pats. ¡°It sounds terrible. Ah, scratch that. It is terrible but that is just the way they are. All elves are insane.¡±

    ¡°We simply value different things. Strength before all else. Might makes right. The¡­courtship may have been violent but her partners certainly didn¡¯t hold her actions against her. Many became quite willing in the face of her prowess. Some, she took as lovers. She was unified with two, including my father. Her behavior is rather tame compared to some. Before, in the immediate years after the Great Spirit bestowed the elves their strength, it was the duty of the strong to procreate as often as possible, to pass down that power. I¡¯m sure you know as well as I the power of tradition.¡±

    Her smile turns wicked. ¡°I say all of this to demonstrate that the romantic traditions of this kingdom are not the standard for the rest of the world, despite the way your nobles attempt to villainize anyone who strays from their beliefs. I will not debate what is right or wrong, but I will say that what you feel is not abnormal or even unique. There are many kinds of love, many kinds of expressing that love, and a vast number of different relationships in the world.¡±

    I chuckle as poor Alana flushes but, to her credit, she doesn¡¯t turn away. ¡°I¡­¡± She clears her throat, visibly building her courage with several deep breaths.

    ¡°Come on, little light~¡± my wife coos. ¡°You¡¯re no coward.¡±

    My friend, soon maybe more, scowls. She hastily scarfs down the rest of the sausages before meeting Kierra¡¯s gaze. ¡°Then we¡¯re talking about this.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d hope so,¡± I said. ¡°Five courses are four too long to spend in silence.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Alright.¡± She takes several more breaths.

    I try to be patient but the eminent conquest has my feet bouncing. ¡°For the love of the saints!¡±

    ¡°Allow me.¡± Kierra leans forward. ¡°You are attracted to Lou, yes?¡± The future saint freezes. ¡°Go on. Say it.¡±

    She mutters under her breath. I let out a groan of annoyance and her eyes snap to me. ¡°Fine. You¡¯re attractive. At least when your mouth is closed.¡±

    My grin falters as Kierra chuckles.

    ¡°She certainly is. But, are you attracted to her? Do you want to touch her? Kiss her? Lay¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, dammit!¡± she shouts, her voice echoing and face flaming.

    Geneva returns in the ensuing silence, pushing her cart. She smoothly replaces the empty plates with others containing small skewers and a small bowl of red sauce with enough spice to tickle my sensitive nose.

    After a few moments for Alana to calm down, I hesitantly go in for another round. ¡°¡­why does that upset you?¡±

    She doesn¡¯t look up from her food, sighing heavily. ¡°Because Lou, I don¡¯t know where this goes. Before I met you, I had a plan. I knew exactly what the future held. Or, well, at least what I wanted from it. I knew what to do for it. I planned to join one of knight orders of Victory and female knights are not allowed to marry as active members. Relationships of any kind weren¡¯t something I ever thought about. Especially one with someone like you.¡±

    I try not to be offended, knowing she is simply speaking her mind. ¡°A woman?¡±

    ¡°That too, but I meant a troublemaker.¡± Her lips twitch as she suppresses a smile. ¡°And¡­a rising star.¡± She raises her head and her gaze is firm. ¡°I want Fort Victory and I want the James family. Maybe it¡¯s sad chasing the place and the people who rejected me but I will make them respect me and I will make history conquering the Bleak Peaks. It means everything to me but a land of winter isn¡¯t exactly a prize. Or¡­me, for that matter.¡±

    I¡¯m ready to correct her but she speaks faster, cutting me off. ¡°You may be a bumbling, lecherous, violent¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi!¡±

    ¡°¡ªfool, but you are also¡­exceptional.¡± She swallows. ¡°You can be clever if only you¡¯d put your mind to another discipline besides summoning. You are strong. Talented. Confident, bordering on arrogant. You are going places, far beyond an old fort full of idiots who have been willfully throwing themselves to their deaths for generations. I may think of you that way but¡­it can¡¯t be something casual and I¡­¡±

    She trails off, using her food as an excuse to stop talking. Meanwhile, I stare at her, flabbergasted.

    I considered all manner of reasons for why she would reject my advances. My biggest worry was she isn¡¯t attracted to me but that clearly isn¡¯t the case. I worried then that she would be concerned by the fact that I¡¯m already married, as I don¡¯t see her being anyone¡¯s mistress. I thought she might reject me for my arguably questionable morals and considered whether I could reform, or at least ¡®behave¡¯. All of that and a myriad of other things.

    Never in my wildest dreams did I think she would be so uneasy and hesitant because, if I¡¯m understanding her correctly, she thinks¡­she isn¡¯t good enough for me.

    This future saint, this bastion of morality, this paragon of justice and loyalty¡­thinks she isn¡¯t good enough for me?

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    I can¡¯t help it. Despite my best efforts to smother them, giggles escape my tightly shut mouth, shaking my shoulders.

    Of course she notices, eyes narrowing. I hold up a hand to forestall whatever curses she¡¯s ready to spew. ¡°Sorry!¡± I gasp, pushing down my nervous humor. ¡°Really, sorry. I¡¯m not laughing at, well, I guess I am. I¡¯m not trying to make light of your feelings, that¡¯s the last thing I¡¯d ever do, but I need to be clear. You think we won¡¯t work because¡­¡± Still having trouble wrapping my mind around this. ¡°Because you think I¡¯m better than you?¡±

    She scowls. ¡°It sounds so condescending coming from you.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lou. I think you¡¯re better than me. I think you¡¯re more talented, more connected, and¡­that you could do better for a lover.¡± She gestured at Kierra who hides her own chuckles behind a hand. ¡°I believe you care for me, I really do, and I think I care for you too beyond a mere physical attraction, which I am still trying to understand because you are the exact opposite of any partner I¡¯ve ever vaguely imagined, but you¡¯re already married to an elven princess for saints¡¯ sake! Excuse me if I think I am a little out of my league!¡±

    She deflates after she finishes her rant, truth released and courage expended.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why everyone in this kingdom insists on mistaking me for a princess,¡± Kierra says lightly.

    I¡¯m still gaping in shock. Alright, take a deep breath. Close your mouth. Think. This may be my one opportunity to make this right. Well, that could be an exaggeration but it¡¯ll make things more complicated if I say the wrong thing now.

    I mull over my response long enough that Geneva returns with the next dish, placing down three bowls of salad and refilling everyone¡¯s glasses before departing. I down the wine in several loud gulps before facing Alana, who is also watching me.

    ¡°Would you ever leave a comrade behind?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Would you ever leave a fellow knight behind? Past those mountains, when you¡¯re fighting against the lords of winter and the hordes of monsters they control, would you ever leave behind a comrade?¡±

    ¡°No, not that I see how that has anything to do with this.¡±

    ¡°Not even to save your own life?¡±

    ¡°What kind of woman do you think I am?¡± she snaps.

    I know exactly who you are. ¡°Alright. Would you ever abandon Marthe as a friend?¡±

    ¡°This is getting¡ª¡±

    ¡°What if a noble showered you with gold? Offered you your own title and land rivaling your father?¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°Yes, someone is going to wave their hand and make me a duchess.¡±

    ¡°Humor me,¡± I said, my lips turning up in a smile. ¡°Would you? All it would cost is publicly denouncing Marthe and never associating with her ever again.¡±

    ¡°No, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Why not? Plenty of people would take that deal. All the gold you could ever want. Wealth to buy resources to improve your own strength. You would be owed respect from everyone who looked down on you. It¡¯s a good deal.¡±

    ¡°Maybe for some but I¡¯d never take it.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because I want to be better than my father and all the assholes like him! There are more important things than wealth and status!¡±

    My smile widens. ¡°That¡¯s right. There are more important things than wealth or status. More important than supposed talent or connections. More important than appearances.¡±

    Her eyes widen as she slowly understands what I¡¯m trying to say. Then she ducks her head shyly, poking at her salad. I slip from my chair and slowly move to her side. She tenses, quickly peeking up at me, before turning away.

    ¡°What I love about you Alana is who you are, despite how frustrating courting a saint can be. And your frequent attempts to beat me into a more respectable person.¡±

    She chuckles but it stops abruptly as I run a hand through her hair.

    ¡°Though to be clear,¡± I whisper while leaning over her, ¡°I think you¡¯re beautiful.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± She glances toward Kierra but I grab her chin, gently turning her gaze toward me.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have compare yourself to anyone,¡± I say, my voice a bit stronger than intended. Really. If I was only attracted to fierce beauties like my wife, I would be scouring the elven continent for lovers. Saints, I might have never left. ¡°I want you.¡± Her eyes say she doesn¡¯t fully believe me.

    Well, let me be more convincing.

    ¡°Want to know about my favorite fantasy of us? It starts with you and me on the Foundation Fields under my wife¡¯s tender care. Yes, even you sweating in loose linens is sexy. But, back to the fantasy. After enduring my wife¡¯s torture¡ª¡±

    ¡°Training,¡± Kierra interjects.

    ¡°Training, yes. That¡¯s what I meant to say. Anyway, she gives us a break and we¡¯re relaxing on the grass when you complain about your aching body, which isn¡¯t unusual. I innocently offer you a massage¡ª¡±

    ¡°Which I always refused,¡± she whispers.

    ¡°Yes, but this time you don¡¯t and I get to use the wonderful techniques taught to me by a succubus. Needless to say, after a few minutes, you¡¯re biting your lip, trying not to moan and giving me that look you do when you¡¯re about to hit me. As in, how dare I try to make you look weak by making you moan in pleasure? Of course, that only excites me¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright!¡± Alana knocks my hand away, huffing, but I know she¡¯s not upset. More amused than anything else. ¡°Enough. I get¡ªmmph!¡±

    I cut her off with a kiss, mashing our lips together. She teeters on her chair but I stop her from falling, gently but firmly cupping her face. I pull away just as suddenly. ¡°You have no idea the things I would do to you given half the chance,¡± I growl, heart pounding. ¡°You thinking you aren¡¯t enough to hold my attention is, frankly, ridiculous. It pisses me off a little. I can¡¯t tolerate people insulting you, not even yourself.¡±

    I let her go and return to my seat, giving us both necessary space. Seeing her big blue eyes staring up at me with a mix of confusion and excitement¡­mm. Almost lost control for a minute there. I distract myself with the crisp salad, reigning in my lust.

    Once I¡¯ve got a hold on my emotions, I clear my throat, drawing her attention back to me. ¡°As to your status¡­I hope you¡¯re not offended but I asked about your fight with Orphelia. And what she said.¡± I sigh. ¡°Please tell me you don¡¯t think I actually care about who sired you.¡± Please tell me you know me.

    ¡°I know,¡± she says softly.

    Thank the saints. ¡°Your talent. I¡¯m going to be honest. Yes, I¡¯m far more talented than you. I have secrets, Alana. Things I haven¡¯t told you not because I don¡¯t trust you but because that information would tie your fate to mine and that has to be your choice.¡± I could never let her walk away if she knew my secrets. I have no intention of letting her walk away at all but I would rather it be for romantic reasons than because I¡¯m terrified someone will rip my secrets from her head.

    ¡°Here¡¯s what I can tell you. I have a significant advantage over everyone in the kingdom.¡±

    She gives me a look. ¡°Everyone?¡±

    I nod.

    ¡°Even Orphelia?¡± she says with distaste.

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°Quin?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°Ah, what do you call him¡­Mr. Talented?¡±

    I sneer. ¡°You gave him a nickname?¡±

    ¡°He asked me to call him that.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I don¡¯t even remember his name.¡±

    ¡°Then call him Mr. Nobody.¡± That¡¯s what he is.

    ¡°A nobody with four affinities.¡±

    ¡°Means nothing.¡±

    ¡°¡­you mean that.¡±

    ¡°If it makes you feel better, my little conqueror is far more talented than me as well,¡± Kierra adds, grabbing my unfinished salad. ¡°Her ambition needs a little work but I will have her laying waste to kingdoms and hunting dragons eventually.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s joking. About the kingdom wrecking and dragons.¡± I think. I hope. ¡°The point is, if I selected wives based on talent, I¡¯d be alone forever.¡± Unless I discover whatever race my divine father is and summon a lady ooze. Or ask him for an introduction to eligible elemental goddesses.

    I lean forward. ¡°Besides, talent is overrated. Determination can trump talent but what trumps all is resources.¡± I imagine my smile is a little evil. ¡°Strength is the last thing you need to worry about. I have every confidence you will become strong on your own but strong isn¡¯t enough. I have the resources to make you legendary and I won¡¯t settle for anything less. I intend to be with you for a long time. Can¡¯t have you breaking on me.¡±

    Alana laughs, hiding her face in her hands. ¡°This is insane. What else are you going to tempt me with? Gold?¡±

    ¡°Have to spoil the wife.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± She hisses, rubbing her fae vigorously. ¡°I¡¯m trying very hard to take this seriously but it sounds too much like a fairytale. Bastard daughter of a duke is swept off her feet by¡ª¡± She eyes me. ¡°You¡¯re not exactly a prince. The daughter is swept off her feet and promised everything and anything. What are you going to do next? Offer to build me a castle?¡±

    ¡°Do you want a castle?¡±

    ¡°Be serious!¡±

    ¡°I am serious. Do you want a castle? Tell me where.¡±

    She swallows heavily. ¡°Lou¡­¡±

    ¡°Do me a favor. Throw away all your common sense, forget what you think is possible. Then I want you to tell me what will make you happy. Anything and everything. Even the stuff you think will make me laugh at you.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t answer right away. Geneva returns with the main course, thin slices of meat drizzled with some kind of brown sauce along with a side of golden rice and chopped vegetables. I dig into the food, ignoring the way Alana stares blankly at the plate.

    ¡°I want¡­to conquer the Bleak Peaks.¡±

    I glance up as she speaks hesitantly.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be all of it. But I want my name to go down as the first member of the James family to lead a successful campaign and return alive after confronting the lords of winter.¡±

    I set down my fork, giving her my full attention. ¡°Alright, Alana.¡±

    She looks up at me. ¡°I want to punch my father in the face.¡±

    My brows go up. ¡°And not be assaulted or arrested, I¡¯m guessing. Kick his ass up and down the fort. No one will lay a hand on you.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a lot stronger than me.¡±

    ¡°Not for long, if you want. Or I¡¯ll kick his ass for you.¡±

    She smiles. ¡°I want a nice house. I grew up in a saints damned closet and hated every moment of it. My room at the dorm isn¡¯t much better.¡±

    ¡°Done. We¡¯ve got space here if you want. I¡¯ll get your stuff tonight.¡±

    ¡°A little fast, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t blame me for trying.¡±

    ¡°¡­I want to be a hero. Not another asshole who thinks a shiny suit of armor and half-baked chivalrous code makes him a saint. Not even like Dunwayne, whose only claim to fame is slaying a monster. I want to be someone who helps, who changes things for the better. When I hear about someone abusing their power, I want kick down their door without a thought about who they¡¯re related to or the law and make things right. I know you couldn¡¯t care less¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a heartless beast. Besides, you can have things for yourself. I don¡¯t expect us to be tied at the hip for the rest of our lives. I want you to come home to me.¡±

    She flushes. ¡°You¡¯re making it hard to say no.¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t,¡± I nearly beg. I would if she asked me to. Pride? What¡¯s that? No point in keeping my pride if I lose my wife.

    ¡°¡­okay.¡±

    ¡°Okay?¡± I blink, taking a moment to process what I¡¯ve just heard. Then I jump out of my chair, sending it clattering to the ground. ¡°Okay?!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, ah.¡± She nervously tugs on her ear, voice even softer as she says, ¡°We can, um. We can¡­be together.¡±

    A thin strand of self-control somehow survives the torrent of my mounting excitement and I manage to keep myself from tackling her. Fighting not to bounce with happiness, I pick up my chair and retake my seat. ¡°Alana~¡± I call out in a sweet voice.

    ¡°W-what?¡±

    ¡°I love you~¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to keep saying it,¡± she grumbles, turning away. ¡°I, ah, don¡¯t know¡­can we¡­er, I think I need time to¡ª¡±

    ¡°She is saying she wants you to be gentle rather than take her like a horny beast,¡± Kierra says with a chuckle. My future saint jumps. Did she forget about the elf? She¡¯s been unusually well-behaved tonight. I should give her something nice.

    Alana is left sputtering while I nod eagerly. ¡°I can do gentle.¡± Slow and steady, no problem. ¡°Wait. I can still kiss you, right?¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    ¡°What? I mean, I¡¯m fine with whatever you¡¯re comfortable with, of course.¡± Ugh. Us being together but being unable to touch her is going to be pure torture.

    ¡°¡­you can.¡±

    Eh?

    Alana shuffles in her seat, red as an apple. ¡°Just don¡¯t get carried away, pervert!¡± she snaps before attacking her dinner. I stare at her, heart fluttering. My chest feels so light, I¡¯m half-afraid I¡¯ll float away.

 Arc 5-Qualifiers-102

    Alana trembles as I guide her upstairs. Normally, she¡¯d already have pulled her hand out of mine, railed at me for being a pervert, and stomped around the house until she found an empty guest room. I guess she is feeling a little raw after her confession. That, and she¡¯s been a little glassy-eyed after the cake Geneva served for dessert. I swear, if I hadn¡¯t directly ordered her against it, I¡¯d think she was drugging the food to make it taste so good.

    She comes back to herself once we reach the bedroom. ¡°Lou¡­¡±

    ¡°Shh. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to do anything you¡¯re uncomfortable with.¡± Like I would ruin everything. ¡°We¡¯re just going to sleep.¡±

    She gives me a dubious look while I do my best to appear innocent. My rare honest intentions must shine through as she squeezes my hand. ¡°Okay.¡±

    I grin and pull her into the bedroom. Kierra stands before the bed in one of the sheer nighties she loves, leaving nothing to the imagination. I hear Alana suck in a sharp breath. ¡°Relax. That deviant dresses like that normally.¡±

    ¡°You wound me, dedia.¡± She smiles as she walks toward us. Her fingertips trail Alana¡¯s cheek. ¡°We would prefer you share our bed but it is your decision.¡±

    Blue eyes narrow, as if the gentle tone is a deception. ¡°Nothing but sleeping?¡±

    My wife grins. ¡°No hands will stray tonight.¡±

    ¡°It is also the best bed in the house,¡± I add.

    ¡°¡­fine.¡±

    A moment to change into something appropriate and some shuffling later, the three of us are on the bed. Myself in the middle with my wives, one pending, on either side. A thought prompts the candles to be snuffed out by Geneva, plunging the room into darkness. Kierra is pressed against my back as I face Alana. Her back that is.

    I pout as she refuses to turn around and tries to feign sleep while nearly an arm length away. ¡°Alana~¡±

    ¡°Go to sleep, Lou.¡±

    ¡°You can come a little closer.¡±

    In response, she snuggles into the blanket tighter. A certain elf decides to take me up on my offer, a hand going over my stomach as she pulls me against her. ¡°Gently,¡± my wife whispers into my ear. ¡°The beast may be tamed but it will still claw you for pulling its tail.¡±

    She¡¯s right. We¡¯ve made so much progress tonight, there¡¯s no need to push it. If she wants to sleep on the other side of the bed, that¡¯s fine.

    I turn around, putting my nose between Kierra¡¯s prodigious bust. ¡°So much to do.¡± With the initiate year finally over, I can turn my attention to the reason I came to the Grand Hall in the first place, summoning.

    The most important goal is to secure my second teacher. Geneva has the physical, mental, fire, and water affinities. Bell has earth. That means I need a teacher for light and wind to cover all my affinities. It would also be good to at least speak with a being knowledgeable of the null and celestial affinities. While I don¡¯t have them, the strange compression of mass my body is capable of and Geneva¡¯s assertion that the ooze of my elemental form is ¡®solid mana¡¯ means understanding those affinities may unlock the secrets of my new form.

    After that, there is Geneva¡¯s suggestion to obtain rare materials from other realms. I don¡¯t need more gold but I have dozens of theories about using said materials to entice creatures that have till now rejected contracts. The possibilities are beyond far-reaching. I can think of dozens of realms and hundreds of elementals that have avoided the Tome family¡¯s grasp. And this is before I delve the extensive library of records in the Summoning Hall.

    Then there¡¯s the matter of the capital and the impending ban on select elementals. With a little time to think, my anger has waned and become bitter offense. I can accept that there may be a good reason the king has drafted this decree and it is not a personal attack. I cannot accept that it is being done without consulting the kingdom¡¯s summoning families. The utter disregard of both the Tome family and the soon to be Masons is an insult. One that could have been avoided with the smallest bit of curtesy.

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    For that, I will retaliate. I won¡¯t burn down the capital but I will make a statement that summoners are not a tiny group that can be stomped on by the powers that be. Not just for my own pride, though that¡¯s reason enough, but for the future of summoning. I won¡¯t allow the art to die because a few summoners are making themselves an inconvenience.

    The inter-realm trading may have to be put on hold. Priority goes to summoning my new companion, then my statement, as they need to be accomplished before I leave for the Bleak Peaks. And that little jaunt into a nightmare has transformed into something else as well. I originally planned to march into the land of winter to avoid the fallout of whatever happens in the capital. After Alana¡¯s confession, I¡¯m either going to conquer the whole of the north or help her usurp her father. Either way, it¡¯s going to cause waves.

    I hope Geneva is ready as my political shield. Saints, she¡¯s already got her work cut out for her. I¡¯m not foolish enough to think my actions today will go unnoticed. If people were intrigued before, they¡¯ll be foaming at the mouth for every scrap of information they can get on me now.

    I¡¯ll have to visit Max, both for materials and to apologize about Cecile. The girl was a mess when Lanston helped her out of the house. I¡¯d hate for the marquis to take my utter disregard for her welfare as a statement about my intentions for our relationship. I have every intention of staying on the merchant¡¯s good side.

    If there¡¯s time, I should see about taking advantage of the Hall. I have some of the best teachers of every field of magic at my disposal here. My passion lies in summoning but it can¡¯t hurt to investigate what else there is to learn. Everyone needs hobbies.

    ¡°Tomorrow, I will speak with Dunwayne,¡± Kierra says. ¡°If he merely has the accounts of Alyssa and the children, he might be forced to act.¡±

    I wince. ¡°Didn¡¯t think of that. Miss Talia is on our side though.¡± And the lovely dorm mother hadn¡¯t hesitated to defend my actions. With her unflappable demeanor, I¡¯m sure her words will carry more weight than the traumatized young casters and an instructor who vandalized our house.

    ¡°It will do well to show my face. It is not about giving my account, but about showing him respect. He is the leader of the Hall. Having people do whatever they please without any concern to his authority would make even the most patient of men irate.¡±

    Shuffling on the other side of the bed draws my attention. I look over my shoulder to see Alana facing us with wide eyes and a hesitant expression. I can guess what she wants but I want her to ask. To know she can. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­do you think¡­¡± She mumbles.

    ¡°Got to speak up.¡±

    She lets out a deep breath. ¡°Do you think I could meet him? Dunwayne.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Kii?¡±

    ¡°Of course~ As the one in the middle of the conflict, it is reasonable that I would bring you along to give your account of what happened.¡±

    Alana smiles, excited at the thought of meeting her idol. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°A simple thing.¡± Kierra reaches over me, laying her hand on the bed palm up. Alana stares at it for a moment before laying her fingers over the elf¡¯s. ¡°We walk the same road now, hm? We are family. Friends, in time. Perhaps more but never less. Your desires are important to me and you should never doubt that I will help you achieve them.¡±

    She squeezes the blushing blonde¡¯s fingers before pulling her hand away. Saints, I would never believe my wife could be so gentle without seeing it for myself. When she was courting me, it was all shoving my face in the dirt and nibbling on me. For Alana, it¡¯s soft words and honeyed tones.

    Suppose I should just be happy she isn¡¯t tearing off her pants and shoving her face between her legs. Does this mean that my wife isn¡¯t an animal in a woman¡¯s skin and actually has a shred of emotional intelligence? So, with me she went straight to deviancy because she knew I could handle it. Huh. Here I thought control was her weakness. Should have known better. The woman has no weaknesses.

    ¡°What she said goes double for me,¡± I add, meeting Alana¡¯s gaze. ¡°Get used to it. This is only the beginning and we¡¯re going to go far. Much farther than Victory.¡± Much farther than this kingdom. Maybe even this realm.

    ¡°Why?¡± Alana asks. ¡°What do you want, Lou? Besides gold and women, that¡¯s obvious. What are you going to do with all this power you have?¡±

    ¡°My turn to spill my guts, huh? We¡¯re not so different. My goal is simple and born of a troublesome relationship with my father.¡± I chuckle. ¡°I want to spread the glory of summoning and be the greatest summoner in history.¡±

    ¡°¡­that¡¯s it?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°That¡¯s it. What did you expect?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­not sure. World conquest? World¡¯s largest harem?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m more about quality than quantity. And politics are annoying. How do you expect me to take over the kingdom when I actively avoid nobles and am nearly allergic to royalty?¡±

    ¡°By the sword.¡±

    ¡°That is such a waste of time. What does being in charge get you? Gold? Resources? Land? People who follow your orders? I can get all of that without any of the drama and theatre running a kingdom involves.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I should be relieved you aren¡¯t going to start a civil war,¡± the future saint mutters.

    ¡°Be careful. The way you were talking earlier, you sounded like you wanted to start your own revolution.¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°Please.¡±

    ¡°A lesson every summoner must learn. Power is deceptive. Just a little can make you feel immortal and invincible. You¡¯ll do things you could never imagine to keep that feeling and crazier things when you think you can¡¯t fail.¡± I grin. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll still be with you even when you create the Holy State of Alana to lead the people of Harvest to a better, virtuous future.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re ridiculous,¡± she says, turning back around.

    We¡¯ll see.

 Miniarc-Mentors 1

    The biting wind that blew through the Grand Hall whispered that winter was closing in. The robes favored by the residents of the Hall were supplemented with heavy cloaks lined with fur or thick underclothes, but even the extra layers couldn¡¯t keep the casters warm without the presence of the sun, something Orphelia could attest to.

    Orphelia Yemen stood outside the Gold Dorm in the pre-dawn gloom, blowing on her cold hands and contemplating her life choices. One could say that she was doomed from the start. Born with the coveted light affinity and no one to shield her from the interests of greedy men, she was sentenced to live her life in the dark. A fate that she had protested at first but since accepted.

    Humans¡¯ greatest strength was their ability to adapt. After years of harsh training, she no longer felt quiet horror when someone died and was numb to the suffering she witnessed, endured, and caused.  Lives became a currency with which she would buy a better future. She embraced the world that existed beside the one most people inhabited, a place rife with danger and intrigue. Her callous disregard of others and familiarity with cruelty provided ample defense against the stressful circumstances of her life but her ¡®armor¡¯ had its own flaws.

    Only now, forced to evaluate herself frankly, could she admit that she never truly discarded the life that could have been. The pride that should have been hers for being born with the revered light affinity and a noble had been twisted into the pride of a wolf that walked amongst ignorant sheep. How could she not see herself as better than people she knew she could kill with casual ease? How could she not look down on people who had no idea that the lives they took pride in could be destroyed by the words of truly powerful people?

    She contented herself with the knowledge that although she had been denied a happy childhood and lived a life where one wrong move could see her killed, at least she was not one of them. The foolish idiots shepherded by the rich like cattle. The weak who could do nothing to defend themselves and had to fear traveling between cities less they fall prey to bandits or hungry manabeasts. Today, she suffered and toiled, but tomorrow, she would be one of the people who mattered.

    How humbling it was to realize that she was not one of the chosen. That there existed no difference between her and the people she despised. That, perhaps, they were to be envied as their ignorance of the true chosen, the monsters that existed beyond their continent, beyond their realm, was true bliss.

    The steady clomps of horse hooves brought her out of her reflection, drawing her attention to an approaching carriage. An extensive education of all the noble houses of Harvest had been a crucial part of her training. Information without context cold do more harm than good. So, although she had never seen the combination of purple, white, gold, and green on any house¡¯s crest, she quickly recognized the image of an open book over a circle. The crest of the Tome family, a family of little renown. Yet, seeing that crest made her shiver as she knew who it heralded.

    The carriage rolled to a smooth stop before her. The man on the driver¡¯s bench turned coal black eyes with puffy black bags beneath them on her, the gaze startlingly apathetic. If she weren¡¯t standing right in front of him, she¡¯d think he was staring at dirt. She had shown her victims more regard than the young man gave her in the brief moment their gazes met before he turned away, jaw popping in a wide yawn.

    The door opened. Taking a deep breath that did nothing to steady her nerves, Orphelia slowly walked toward the carriage, climbing inside. The shutters of the singular window were closed but a small red flame hovered in the corner of the carriage, giving the space a glow similar to candlelight.

    Seated on one of the benches was the creature responsible for her anxiety and self-reflection. At first glance, the feminine figure inspired the opposite of fear, despite her otherness. Her gray skin held a youthful vibrancy despite its pallor. Long, black hair the envy of even the most beautiful women fell to her lower back in a shiny wave that begged viewers to run their fingers through it. The tiny black horns and her dainty hooves added a unique charm rather than detracted from her appearance. The finishing touch were her rose pink eyes, as beautiful as they were alien.

    Orphelia gazed upon her tormentor and hated the admiration that she felt. She managed to keep her face neutral as she took a seat on the opposite bench, but it was an empty victory. Her facial control meant nothing as the creature was in her mind. No feeling gave it away, but the succubus had already proved that her lack of perception would not shield her.

    ¡°Orphie~¡± she crooned. A black tail with a leaf-shaped tip waved in front of her. ¡°You were early. It must have been dreadful standing outside in the cold.¡±

    Orphelia held her tongue. They both knew she didn¡¯t dare make the creature wait even a moment. The remaining shreds of her pride made her hesitate to voice such a submission and it was a bitter feeling knowing that the succubus ¡®heard¡¯ it anyway.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re wondering why I called you here.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    She swallowed as the pink eyes narrowed and the warm smile gained a cruel edge. Despite her trepidation, Orphelia continued. She had questions, questions she had been pondering for days, and her future depended on the answers. ¡°I want to know what you are.¡±

    ¡°You know what I am. A succubus contracted to Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Then tell me who you are.¡± Because you are more than a servant.

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    ¡°Isn¡¯t it a little late in our relationship for introductions?¡± The succubus giggled. ¡°Oh, well. I suppose I can indulge you.¡± She bowed her head. ¡°Nice to meet you, I am Geo, a circle four thrall from Burning Earth. There, your turn.¡±

    ¡°¡­don¡¯t play games with me.¡±

    The succubus¡¯ smile faded. ¡°Everything is a game, my foolish blade,¡± the creature spoke gravely. ¡°The only difference is whether you are powerful enough to be a player as opposed to a piece. I could tease you for longer, but we are on a schedule, so I¡¯ll cut to it. I can give you the answer you seek but there will be a cost.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°No need to look so apprehensive! It would be rather counterproductive for me to harm you. The cost is simply your memory. Unfortunately, I haven¡¯t had the opportunity to shield your mind from the bumbling casters of this kingdom and it is not information I want escaping. I will give you your answer, but I shall take the knowledge from you.¡±

    Orphelia frowned. ¡°Isn¡¯t it rather pointless then?¡±

    ¡°I only said I would take the information. You will remember you asked and you will remember what the response made you feel, but the exact words will escape you. More than enough for your purpose.¡±

    Knowing that her inner thoughts may as well be written on her face before the creature unnerved Orphelia in a way she¡¯d never experienced before. The succubus¡¯ knowing smile terrified her, filled her with a unique helplessness. At the same time, there was an element of disbelief. A part of her that refused to believe the privacy of her mind could be penetrated so easily. It made every intrusion feel like the first time.

    ¡°Well? Do you want your answers?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    The succubus giggled as the end of her tail touched Orphelia¡¯s forehead. ¡°Ask whatever questions you like.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    For the first time, Orphelia felt a sensation like a thousand ants crawling along her skin as the succubus¡¯ mana invaded her body, concentrating on her skull. ¡°I have adopted many names, the most recent of which being Geo, the docile thrall of a lecherous summoner. However, the most recognizable of these names for the inhabitants of this plane would be Geneva, the Crimson Flame. Circle seven don, one of the rulers of Burning Earth.¡±

    Having little knowledge in the realm of summoning, the name and description meant nothing to her. ¡°How powerful are you?¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you witnessed it for yourself?¡±

    Orphelia shivered as she recalled how easily the succubus had manipulated her and everyone around her. ¡°What you can do is impressive, but it basically amounts to parlor tricks. Someone will catch onto your game eventually. I want to know what you will do when a dozen royal knights kick down your summoner¡¯s door.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°Primitive races and their obsession with brute strength. Very well.¡±

    Suddenly, the carriage disappeared and Orphelia found herself hovering over a strange land. A place of blackened earth and smoky skies. From her position, the many fissures in the ground looked like cracks in a shattered pane of glass, the lines glowing with yellow-orange material that flowed like the waters of a river, plumes of smoke rising from them. She couldn¡¯t feel her body but that didn¡¯t stop her from feeling the unbearable heat or nearly choking on the cloying smoke.

    With no thought of her own, her attention was pulled in another direction. A titan of pulsing red flesh moved over the barren land. Orphelia didn¡¯t have the words to describe the creature. The largest thing she¡¯d ever seen was the Summer Palace, its tallest spires dwarfing the surrounding city.

    This thing dwarfed them. She could stack a dozen palaces on top of one another and it still wouldn¡¯t come close to the thing¡¯s height, not to mention its girth. It was like watching a mountain made of flesh move. The sight was as awe-inspiring as it was nauseating and horrifying.

    As she watched, the red mountain began to undulate. The flesh moved, twisting and distorting in a way that hurt to watch. She watched it fold and roll, gradually shrinking. It extended a long tendril and a drop of red matter fell from it, though a drop from a mountain was still the size of a building. That piece folded on itself, until it became the size of a person. Then, it changed. Ash gray skin. Small horns and dainty hooves. Pink eyes and a knowing smile.

    The vision broke and Orphelia was back in the carriage, staring at the creature. She could feel her body once more but remained frozen, paralyzed by shock and fear.

    The succubus, and Orphelia had a whole new appreciation for what that word represented, chuckled. ¡°How rude. A lady has just undressed before you and you can¡¯t even spare her a compliment.¡±

    ¡°Y¡­you¡­¡± She swallowed, pushing through her roiling emotions and organizing her chaotic thoughts. ¡°Are you¡­that thing¡¯s child?¡±

    Geneva chuckled. ¡°Humans. I¡¯ve found that you all have such limited perspective. Something even my summoner suffers from. No, my pretty blade. I am that thing.¡± She laughed at Orphelia¡¯s dropped jaw. ¡°I have lived for millennia, traversing multiple realms and building my power. Do you really think all that effort would amount to this paltry form and a mere coefficient of a thousand? That would be rather embarrassing.¡±

    ¡°How¡­¡±

    ¡°What do your casters call it? Organic construction. I took a piece of myself and constructed a vessel to answer the summoning in my place, with enough knowledge and power to suitably impress the summoners of this realm. The ¡®drop¡¯ is like the drone of a beehive. It accepts the contract in my stead. Once it lives out its contract, it returns to me and I reabsorb it, taking its knowledge and the power it has accumulated. Though, I may have miscalculated in regard to this realm. My summoner is a bit too capable to be corralled by the vessel constructed for her.¡±

    Orphelia sat stock still as she absorbed the information given to her. Then she put her head against the wall and closed her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re all royally fucked.¡±

    Geneva¡¯s tail whipped back and forth in amusement. ¡°Of course. The moment I accepted the contract to a human summoner, your leaders were destined to be toppled. The more resources I provide my summoner, the faster she grows, which means the faster I grow. I have done it many times to races far more impressive than balding monkeys. Do you understand, Orphie? There is nothing you can do to stop what is coming. It is only a question of whether you will be behind me or before me. And those who stand before me will be trampled.¡±

    Orphelia nodded weakly. She thought she knew the meaning of the word futile. Another word the succubus had redefined.

    ¡°Do you have any other questions?¡±

    She shook her head.

    ¡°Then it is time to forget~¡±

    The unnerving feeling of invading mana assaulted her and then the succubus pulled back her tail. Orphelia frowned, as she felt the same. No pain, no confusion. At first, she thought the spell had failed but when she tried to recall the¡­she couldn¡¯t remember what she wanted to recall.

    Whenever she thought about the last few minutes, nothing came to mind but a lingering dread. When she looked at the smiling succubus, the creature invoked muted horror and fear, fear even more profound than her memories of being a little girl facing trained killers.

    ¡°What excellent timing. We¡¯ve arrived at our destination.¡±

 Miniarc-Mentors 2

    The carriage came to a stop. Geneva disembarked and held out a hand. Orphelia reluctantly allowed the succubus to help her to the ground and looked around. She recognized the Grand Market. At the early hour, the roads were empty and the shops were closed, the buildings quiet shadows of their usual selves without the boisterous advertising trying to entice people into their shops and the inactive enchanted signs.

    Judging from the sign depicting a chair and the furniture she could see through the glass windows, Orphelia guessed they had stopped at a carpenter¡¯s shop with a specialty in home furnishings. She had no idea how expertly crafted chairs fit into political domination but the lingering dread from the conversation she couldn¡¯t remember stopped any doubts from forming.

    Geneva moved around to the back of the carriage, opening a small trunk attached to it and pulling out a thick book. She motioned for Orphelia to follow as she went around to the side of the building, where a smaller entrance was located. The succubus cheerily knocked on the door and it was swiftly opened.

    A young man with dark hair and cautious eyes stood in the doorway. His gaze briefly went to her before he opened the door wider, allowing them into the store. He led them to the showroom and gestured toward the many chairs. ¡°Everyone¡¯s asleep but we should still keep it brief.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    It was a struggle for Orphelia to keep her expression controlled as Geneva reverted to a demure thrall, smiling softly and looking up at the young man through her lashes. She extended the book and he took it with greedy hands.

    ¡°That is a record of a summoning for Vanity King. He is well-known for his pride and travels the realms in search of new worshipers. It may sound distasteful but because of his temperament, he is known for forming contracts with those significantly weaker than himself and he will be pleased by a group following.¡±

    The young man nodded. ¡°How strong is he?¡±

    ¡°His coefficient is rather weak at a mere three hundred but that plays into your favor, as it lessens the mana needed to bind him. However, his true power lies in his physical prowess. He has a hide that can deflect any weapon and his claws can cut through metal. I am confident in saying he can rival any master caster of the Hall. Most importantly, he has a natural defense against mana intrusion, which shields him against the mental affinity.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. With this¡­¡± He once again looked at Orphelia, this time his lips turning down. ¡°I was so excited I forgot introductions. Callan Atkinson, apprentice carpenter.¡± He stuck out his hand, eyes full of expectation.

    [Time to play the game, Orphie. Ignore his hand and do not introduce yourself. Belittle him. This is a meeting you attended on a whim but you have no patience for a man who speaks above his station.]

    Orphelia adopted the role, arranging her features into a sneer. ¡°I don¡¯t care who you are.¡± Turning her head with an exaggerated sniff, she faced the succubus. ¡°Why am I skulking about this tiny shop when I should be in bed?¡± she asked, channeling her inner snob.

    [A little less privilege, a little more authority.]

    She adjusted her sneer from demeaning to displeased.

    ¡°I apologize for the early hour.¡± Geneva bowed her head. ¡°Callan, she is someone who can help us. She¡¯s been looking into Lou as well.¡±

    What are you playing at?

    [You¡¯ve been looking into her for misuse of the mental affinity. There have been allegations that she is magically charming women into her bed but there is no evidence.]

    ¡°Is that true?¡± Callan asked.

    ¡°The Hall is aware of Lourianne Tome. There have been¡­unsubstantiated accusations about her use of her thrall.¡± She threw Geneva a pointed glare. ¡°A few have claimed that she has been misusing the mental affinity to magically charm women into her bed.¡±

    The carpenter perked up. ¡°If you know that much, why hasn¡¯t she been detained?¡±

    [You can see it, can¡¯t you? The jealously. The envy.]

    ¡°Are you hard of hearing? They are unsubstantiated claims. Most of the people throwing around these accusations are jealous boyfriends or pursuers who have had their sweethearts stolen. People can and have made up malicious rumors out of envy for another¡¯s success. Someone¡¯s word is not enough to sentence someone to death, the only punishment for such a crime.¡±

    ¡°But it isn¡¯t someone¡¯s word! Her¡ª¡± Callan checked his volume and took a deep breath. Then he spoke through clenched teeth. ¡°Her own elemental is here.¡±

    [I am rather untrustworthy.]

    ¡°Yes. A succubus, a creature known for its ability and inclination for twisting men and circumstances, is here. One who either refuses or cannot testify against her summoner. Not enough, Mr. Atkinson. Not nearly enough.¡±

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    ¡°The Hall has mental casters. They can find the proof.¡±

    ¡°Not only hard of hearing but daft as well. One does not casually use the mental affinity, not even the Hall. I cannot simply wave a hand and have someone raid her mind.¡±

    ¡°So, she¡¯s free to continue preying on citizens of the kingdom,¡± he said, features a mask of disgust. ¡°I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. She¡¯s a noble. They aren¡¯t bound by the same rules as everyone else.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to waste my time, I¡¯ll leave.¡±

    ¡°Callan, please.¡± Geneva laid a hand on the young man¡¯s arm and he visibly relaxed. ¡°She isn¡¯t the one responsible for the problems in the kingdom. It¡¯s good enough that she is here.¡±

    ¡°¡­I suppose. If she actually plans on doing something.¡±

    ¡°Geo has hinted that you plan to confront Lourianne Tome. That true?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Then I am here to remind you that the Hall does not allow unsanctioned duels. If you assault Lourianne Tome, you will be detained for violating both the rules of the Hall and the king¡¯s law.¡±

    ¡°This is¡ª¡±

    [Throw him a line.]

    ¡°However,¡± Orphelia interrupted. ¡°If you were to find any evidence that she has violated the king¡¯s law, she will be detained, noble or not. I am reminding you, Mr. Atkinson, that there is a proper way to do things. Your actions, no matter the reason behind them, have consequences.¡±

    ¡°¡­hmph. I suppose that is reasonable.¡± Callan stood, holding the book to his chest. ¡°I have to prepare. I¡¯ve managed to gather a few members of the club, but it¡¯ll still be a challenge to gather the resources needed for even the most basic summoning.¡±

    Geneva stood and Orphelia followed. ¡°Lou is planning on leaving the Hall for the intervening months between her initiate and acolyte years. It is the perfect time for you to make your move beneath her notice. However, you mustn¡¯t slack on your duties. Earl will be expecting you.¡±

    ¡°The boy?¡± His opinion of Lou¡¯s steward was apparent from his tone.

    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate him. Nothing about Lou is as it seems, even her servants.¡±

    ¡°Fine. This act will not have to go on for much longer.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°How is¡­¡±

    ¡°Mistress is fine.¡±

    Callan nodded sharply. ¡°Good, good. I need to get to work.¡±

    ¡°And we should get going before your family takes notice.¡± Geneva moved closer to him, her tail curling around his waist as they whispered to one another. When she stepped away, the young man was blushing fiercely, his lips twitching as he fought a smile. ¡°Good luck, Callan.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t fail.¡±

    Orphelia followed Geneva as she left the store, holding her tongue until they boarded the carriage. Then she let loose. ¡°What was all of that?¡±

    ¡°A game,¡± the succubus answered with a smile. ¡°Did you have fun?¡±

    ¡°Fun? I¡¯m not even sure if we won or loss.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You played your role perfectly.¡± Geneva reclined on the bench. ¡°Kierra has assembled a group of battle fanatics that she hopes will one day serve as Lou¡¯s knights. She gives them private training and pits them against each other in single and team bouts. The participants have dubbed their little club Elven Garde. Callan Atkinson is one of the least magically talented individuals associated with it. The amorous young man has fallen in love with Kierra. Because of this, he has managed to frame her happy marriage as a sinister use of magic. He is convinced he is a hero destined to save the fair maiden and live happily ever after.¡±

    ¡°Then why are you helping him?¡±

    ¡°Lou wants to promote the art of summoning. I did mention Callan is untalented? He believes that contracting a powerful ally is the answer to his weakness and my summoner is more than happy to encourage that delusion.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re not concerned about this, ah, Vanity King?¡±

    The succubus giggled. ¡°King is a buffoon, but he has a role to play. As I told Callan, he wants admirers. Not one or two either. He will accept a contract on the basis that Callan builds him a following. As such, Callan will be forced to introduce more and more people to the art of summoning.¡±

    ¡°Furthering your summoner¡¯s objective,¡± Orphelia said. ¡°Then you¡¯re using him.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t take credit for everything. The Vanity King was Lou¡¯s idea. She can be clever and has an impressive dedication to her art.¡± Geneva smiled. ¡°The truly devious thing is that I didn¡¯t lie. King is powerful enough to face any master caster, perhaps except Dunwayne but I don¡¯t know the power of the grandmaster. That strength will draw others in droves. They too will want powerful summons. Oh, the glorious chaos of hundreds of men and women bartering with creatures beyond their control.¡±

    Orphelia thought on the information she¡¯d heard. Hundreds of men and women with servants that could rival master casters, all pursuing their interests to the detriment of the kingdom. Chaos was not an apt descriptor of the horrible future she envisioned.

    ¡°Why would you do that? I thought¡­¡± She thought the creature wanted to conquer the human kingdom, not tear it apart. Then she realized the succubus had never explicitly stated her objectives.

    ¡°No need to worry. Your precious kingdom will not burn. They are amateurs. All the crown need do to save itself is turn to the established summoning families.¡±

    ¡°I see. You create a bunch of wild summoners, who promote summoning throughout the peasants. Then they create problems, which spreads the knowledge of summoning to the upper echelons. Lou solves the problems created by these rogue summoners, elevating her in the eyes of the crown¡ª¡±

    ¡°And restoring the prestige of the Tome family.¡±

    Orphelia shook her head. ¡°That is a dangerously reckless plan. I don¡¯t know much about summoning but I know giving people power without any restraints can only end badly.¡±

    ¡°Which is part of the appeal,¡± Geneva said. ¡°My summoner is fond of wild and reckless actions. But things cannot be left entirely to fate. That is where you come in. The reason for that little act, my pretty blade, is to put a leash around Callan. Do you see?¡±

    Orphelia felt a pang of nostalgia. The succubus strongly reminded her of her tutors with her expectant gaze. ¡°You established me as a vague authority figure.¡±

    ¡°Go on¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­you let him know that someone is watching him. So, even if he does obtain a powerful servant, he¡¯ll think twice about using it.¡±

    ¡°Exactly~ Now, what other benefit did our little performance have?¡±

    She thought on it for several moments before shaking her head.

    ¡°Security. Callan is an ant attempting to take down a lion. He knows very well how outclassed he is. So much so that it would be easy to cut his losses and run if he¡¯s successful with his summoning. Therefore, I gave him an ally. Someone who shares his desire to bring down the villain. Someone he can turn to when he inevitably encounters trouble. While I am away with Lou traversing the land of winter, you will check on him. Gain his trust. A comrade is all it will take to give him courage.¡±

    Orphelia was beginning to feel bad for the simple apprentice. He had no idea what he was getting into it. ¡°I find it hard to believe that you¡¯ve done all of this, upended my whole life, so I can help you play around with a peasant.¡±

    ¡°You overestimate how much effort I have put into any of this. But let me reassure you, Orphie. This is just the beginning.¡±

 Miniarc-Mentors 3

    Most of the Gold Dorm remained asleep at the early hour but the servants were already busy. They bowed their heads as Orphelia passed. They didn¡¯t know her but it was assumed she held a higher status than them. The Hall may preach all to be equal on the road to magical excellence but good intentions couldn¡¯t change reality. Nobles had noble wealth. They expected better and could afford it, the wealthy families handing out ¡®donations¡¯ to ensure their scions could remain in the pampered comfort they¡¯d grown dependent on.

    Even if they were stripped of their luxuries, it wouldn¡¯t be enough to dent the monumental egos developed from a lifetime of being told they were special. Especially if they were special, possessing the talented blood that had originally separated the nobles from the common masses during the time of the kingdom¡¯s founding. Those initiates and acolytes would expect those around them to show proper respect and, no matter the rules that prevented direct confrontation, had ways of punishing those who dared to ignore the unspoken rules.

    Most of the servants employed by the Hall were simple people, men and women willing to cook and clean for a good wage. While they could mount a resistance with the Hall¡¯s protection, most didn¡¯t value a bit of salvaged pride over a peaceful life.

    Perhaps her current situation made her more empathetic but Orphelia found herself in a sympathetic mood for those she never gave a second thought. Servants and masters. Such a different concept depending on where one sat. For masters, they reveled in the idea of having power over another. For the servants, they cursed the world where power made them worthless. But there existed exceptions. Servants who gained power from their masters. Masters broken down by the responsibility to those who served them.

    Not for the first time, Orphelia considered simply escaping from the game altogether. Shucking her chains and disappearing into some corner of the vast continent. Forsaking half her abilities and becoming a water caster who ensured a small village wasn¡¯t poisoned by their local water sources.

    Or perhaps see the world forgotten by most of humanity. Join one of the expeditions led by the Guiness Company, who always needed competent water casters on the seas, and see sights unseen for centuries.

    Now more than ever, she longed for the opportunity. She was this close to turning around and marching out of the Hall. Nothing less than such a commitment, such a drastic action, could have a chance at success. She might have done it if not for her meeting earlier.

    Her father was a threat but, in the end, he was a mere servant, the true threat coming from his masters. Faceless individuals, though she had speculations on who exactly gave the baron his orders. People who didn¡¯t know her and wouldn¡¯t throw resources away on a tool that couldn¡¯t be controlled, no matter her potential. She reckoned they¡¯d give it a month of effort, maximum, before cutting their losses and moving on with their many schemes.

    The succubus, however, was a very real, very present threat. Orphelia had witnessed her power, her personal power, the only kind that truly mattered in the end. She had no doubt in her mind that there was nowhere in the world that the creature couldn¡¯t find her if it wanted. Her recent actions didn¡¯t suggest as much so she figured the certainty she felt had to come from the conversation she couldn¡¯t remember.

    While the memory was blank, she knew they had had a conversation and the questions she had wanted answers to. Namely, the creature¡¯s true identity, ability, and intentions. Whenever she thought on that feeling of missing time, an overwhelming dread overcame her. It was so powerful, it made her nauseous, her stomach threatening to throw up her fear, as there was little else that would come up at such an early hour. She desperately worked to put the whole encounter out of her mind.

    No, there was no running. The only way out was through. With that thought, Orphelia turned her mind to the tasks of the day. It was going to be busy. Last night, a messenger informed her that someone wanted to speak to her and her charges. Likely an agent of one of their patriarchs, or perhaps all of them, come to express the displeasure of the powers that be. She also expected to receive new orders, either a termination or adjustment of her assignment. Her life depended on her ability to hear the unspoken words of the mouthpiece and read between the lines of any correspondence.

    Her first stop was the dining room, where she ordered breakfast for four. While the cooks started on the meal, she went to find her charges. The first being Cecile Guiness.

    The girl had not taken the events of the qualifiers well. After seeing her fianc¨¦¡¯s corpse and Orphelia¡¯s murder, the girl had confined herself to her room, requesting meals be delivered and turning away all guests. She refused to leave even for servants to clean.

    Orphelia didn¡¯t know what the girl hoped to achieve. A door wasn¡¯t enough to keep the world at bay. Today was a perfect example. She would be attending the meeting. Orphelia would drag her if needed, regardless of how scandalous such a scene would be.

    Her determination leaked into her knocks as she rapped sharply on the girl¡¯s door. To her surprise, it was immediately thrown open. Cecile stood in the doorway, dressed in a simple white and gold dress, her light brown hair pinned up elegantly. Her green eyes looked tired and Orphelia could see redness that spoke to restless nights, but otherwise, she was composed. The opposite of the neurotic mess Orphelia expected.

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    ¡°Good morning.¡±

    ¡°¡­morning.¡± Cecile stepped out of her room, glancing up and down the hall. ¡°The others aren¡¯t awake yet?¡±

    ¡°I started with you.¡± In case drastic measures needed to be taken. Robert would no doubt object to her dragging the girl out of the building if Cecile proved too reticent to leave her room.

    Cecile winced. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Everything that happened¡­¡± She started to run a hand through her hair but paused, unwilling to disturb the style. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you aren¡¯t affected more. You, well. You died.¡±

    ¡°I came out unscathed and dwelling on it serves no purpose,¡± she said quickly and harsher than she intended. If she wouldn¡¯t touch her forgotten conversation with the succubus with a stick, she wouldn¡¯t enter the building holding the memories of her brief separation from life. ¡°If you¡¯re ready, you can go to the dining room. They are already preparing breakfast.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to get the boys?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll come with you.¡±

    Orphelia didn¡¯t comment as she led the way downstairs and to a staircase on the opposite side of the building. Separation of sexes was more important in Gold Dorm than any other. A fling between the commoners and fourth sons in Bronze Dorm affected them more than anyone else. A dalliance between the spare heirs and children of richer families in Silver Dorm could be scandalous.

    A drunken night between those who lived in Gold Dorm? That could shake the country. With some of the initiates of reckless age, the Hall put a bit more effort in curtailing any mishaps.

    Lanston was the closest. It took several moments for him to open the door. Like Cecile, he showed signs of restless nights and without a woman¡¯s expertise in face powders and paints, they were much more pronounced.

    The thick black bags under his eyes made them seem sunken in, his wavy brown hair was a disorderly mess, and he had grown a few hairs on his chin. Nothing manly, just a prickly shadow that showed he¡¯d neglected his hygiene. Combined with the simple pants and shirt, he looked like a young hunter freshly pulled from his favorite tavern after a night of indulgence.

    He stared at Orphelia for a moment, as he had always done after the day he watched her die and come back to life, before stepping from his room. He gave them both a nod before going still, lost in his thoughts. Orphelia didn¡¯t bother engaging him, content that he followed when she walked, but from the corner of her eye, she saw Cecilia grab his arm and lean toward him.

    Another of her charges managed to surprise her. As they approached Robert¡¯s door, the future Harvest Hero exited, closing it with a sigh. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and even managed a small smile.

    ¡°Morning everyone,¡± he said. ¡°Guess I wasn¡¯t the only one who couldn¡¯t sleep?¡±

    ¡°Morning,¡± Orphelia returned.

    ¡°Hey, Quin,¡± Cecile said, mustering up an answering smile while Lanston nodded.

    ¡°Breakfast is being prepared in the dining room,¡± Orphelia said. ¡°My summons was a little vague, telling me to come ¡®first thing in the morning¡¯, but I imagine we can take our time as the sun hasn¡¯t fully risen.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Robert fell in step with her as they headed for the stairs, the other two falling in behind them. ¡°Because we need to talk.¡±

    ¡°About?¡± she questioned, not liking his tone.

    ¡°About what we¡¯re going to say. I have no doubt whoever was sent here will want their own account of¡­everything. We need to make sure we present a united front and a clear message.¡±

    ¡°And what message would that be?¡±

    He looked sideways at her. ¡°You know probably better than we do what happens if we stoke any rumors about an assassination attempt. That Ethor character¡­he tried to rob us for a prank and messed up his spell with fatal consequences. A shame, but an accident.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know it was an accident. You especially, as you were not conscious at the time.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Tell them whatever you want, Bobby. The capital isn¡¯t going to care about the opinions of a few novice casters.¡±

    ¡°We have to at least try and minimize the damage.¡±

    She waved him off, picking up her pace as she entered the dining room. A waiter met her and led her to the table that had been prepared for them. There were already steaming cups of tea waiting in front of the chairs. She focused on preparing hers to her liking, a single scoop of sugar as she hated overly sweet things, with a dash of milk, and peered over the rim of her cup at the others.

    Lanston was unresponsive but Robert spoke quietly to Cecile, no doubt swaying the girl to his real agenda. One she had an inkling about. ¡°There is one part of our responses that I would like straightened out.¡± She waited until all three faced her before continuing. ¡°What do you plan to say about Lourianne Tome? At the very least, tell me you¡¯re not planning to incite your guardians against her.¡±

    As it had every time it was spoken since the qualifiers, the name Lourianne Tome brought a sour expression to Robert¡¯s face. ¡°What happened to saying what we wanted?¡±

    ¡°Your animosity for her is your business but badmouthing her in front of the wrong people can ruin her reputation.¡± She left unsaid how serious such a thing could be. There were nobles who valued reputation more than their life, their honor over their own children. Perception was a currency of its own.

    ¡°I think it bears mentioning that she killed you.¡±

    ¡°She injured me, in defense of another. It was her home and her right to pass judgment. Do not make it out to be something else. Do you even know that I died? Did you check my pulse?¡±

    Lanston fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Robert scoffed. ¡°I didn¡¯t need to. Your neck was broken.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? You¡ª¡±

    Robert slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups jump. ¡°Look! I don¡¯t know what you want with that woman and I don¡¯t care! Unless you¡¯re going to use your position to order me, which I am beginning to doubt, I will handle this meeting how I see fit.¡±

    Orphelia stared at his stern expression. Then she channeled her inner brat and gave him the most dramatic eye roll she could manage. ¡°As you are still under my care, I thought I would warn you against offending someone not even an instructor of the Hall wanted to challenge but if you insist.¡±

    Their breakfast continued in silence, which suited her fine. She finished her meal quickly and left them to their collusion. She waved down a servant and requested a carriage be prepared. It was brought along in short order and she dismissed the driver, taking the bench herself. She let her thoughts wander, a rare indulgence, until her charges exited the building. Robert stared at her defiantly while the others refused to meet her gaze.

    I have bigger things to worry about.

    Orphelia turned her gaze and retracted her limited amount of concern for their futures.

 Miniarc-Mentors 4

    Despite the early hour, the Center Hall was a hub of activity. Robert observed the endless flow of casters entering and leaving the building as his thoughts wandered. With the completion of the qualifiers, he would be promoted to an acolyte. That meant no more mandatory classes.

    Each of the students would take control of their own futures, selecting what to attend from a list of free classes arranged by the Hall. Instructors with laxer obligations would select new assistants from their previous pupils and pluck more ripe talent from the eager initiates. There would also be those no one liked to speak of, those who would flounder without firm direction, squandering their time and wasting their benefactors¡¯ gold.

    Many futures had already been decided by the qualifiers. The results were released, posted on several boards outside the Center Hall. Individual scores for each test along with the top one hundred combined scores.

    He was beyond disgusted that Lourianne Tome was the top scoring initiate of his year. While she only scored in the top twenty for the written test and was in the middle of the group for the interviews, graded on a metric the instructors kept to themselves, her overwhelming display in the Sanctuary catapulted her to the top of the rankings, breaking the record previously held by Dunwayne himself. It didn¡¯t matter that those points were likely obtained by another creature and bought with the blood of his mount. All anyone could see were the results.

    Hopefully, her scores wouldn¡¯t blind anyone to her perverse personality. He couldn¡¯t imagine even the most patient instructor tolerating her rampant arrogance for very long. Besides that, she only had a basic fire affinity. Ironic someone so cocky had so little talent. The only thing remarkable about her was her wife, something that baffled him. While he could vaguely understand the idea that women may be attracted to other women, he didn¡¯t understand how a woman like Kierra was interested in a bastard like Lou. If she weren¡¯t married to that elf, she¡¯d¡ª

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    Robert turned away from the window and met Cecile¡¯s concerned gaze. She smiled hesitantly. ¡°Worried about the meeting?¡±

    ¡°¡­a little.¡± Robert pushed the thoughts of the annoying woman from his mind. Lou was a thing of the past. Soon, the instructor arranged by his mentor would meet with him and he would start on the path of becoming the next Harvest Hero. She would probably become another waste of the Hall with her love of debauchery. He doubted he¡¯d ever see her again. ¡°What about you? How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°Good days and bad.¡± She sighed. ¡°Most of the time, it¡¯s hard to believe. I keep waking up at an unsaintly hour thinking I have classes and am half-dressed before I remember our initiate year is over. That makes me remember the qualifiers and then¡­¡±

    He made a sympathetic noise. Beside her, Lanston turned, eyes full of unreadable emotion.

    Her smile softened. ¡°Sebas was not a likable man. He was a proud, selfish, arrogant little shit.¡± She chuckled. ¡°And he couldn¡¯t stand being inferior to anyone. Idiot had his father engage us just because I flirt with you a bit.¡± She shook her head. ¡°But¡­but he didn¡¯t deserve to die, did he?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Robert said softly.

    ¡°Sure, he made people want to punch him in the face just by breathing but he could have grown out of it. All he wanted was for someone to acknowledge him. To believe in him.¡± Her shoulders slumped. ¡°Now¡­he¡¯ll never get the chance, which is bad enough, but chalking it up to an accident is¡­that he died because some prick misfired his spell¡­¡± She met Robert¡¯s gaze. ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to cause any more trouble but maybe we should let them investigate. Everything about that day was strange and suspicious.¡±

    Robert huffed. ¡°Look, the crown isn¡¯t going to stop until they get to the bottom of everything. I¡¯m concerned about us. No matter what, things don¡¯t look good but an accident is far better for our reputations than getting bested by assassins.¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡± Her tone was reluctant but he knew he could rely on her to do the right thing. Playing word games was distasteful and was only necessary because he failed in the first place. He still had his doubts about the events surrounding his friend¡¯s death, and the parts certain individuals might have played in them, but none of that came before his future. He had to keep moving forward, for Sebas as well. All he could do for the past was promise to be better in the future.

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    ¡°The initiate year is finally over!¡± he said, injecting some cheer into his voice. ¡°I have a special tutor coming to the Hall to oversee my training. Did your father arrange the same thing?¡±

    ¡°¡­no. I¡¯m no one to receive special attention.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°Fighting¡­¡± She swallowed. ¡°Throwing around fireballs and blowing things up sounds great until the consequences are shoved in your face. I think I¡¯ll take a craft. Ugh. Here I was trying to avoid being a Guiness stereotype.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing wrong with being an artisan.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°My mother is a painter.¡±

    ¡°I remember. My grandfather has bought several of her works. How are you with a brush?¡±

    ¡°All of her talent was inherited by my sister. Didn¡¯t leave a drop for me. Luckily, I inherited my parents¡¯ magical talents and more, not that we knew at the time. My father was a guard and he taught me how to use a sword. I caught my mentor¡¯s eye at a local youth tournament.¡±

    ¡°Little did he know, he¡¯d stumbled on a treasure of the kingdom,¡± she said teasingly. She ignored his slight flush and turned to Lanston. ¡°And what about you? Are you going to stick with him or do your own thing?¡± Her smile wilted. ¡°I know what your family expects but if we¡¯ve learned anything from this, it¡¯s that life is too short.¡±

    Lanston nodded slowly. His lips screwed up before he spoke in a quiet voice. ¡°I want to study manabeasts and will focus my classes around that.¡±

    ¡°Your family isn¡¯t going to be happy,¡± Robert said cautiously.

    ¡°My father will likely withdraw my tuition. I¡¯ll have to find work before then.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find something,¡± Cecile said. ¡°If nothing else, I could see about getting you work at one of our stores for the end of the week. Or maybe the hotel in Quest.¡±

    He grimaced. ¡°I was thinking the Grand Library. As an assistant.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I should get a job,¡± Robert mused. Thorgood was his friend and his mount but the roc had also been an investment. An investment worth thousands of gold. He didn¡¯t know if his mentor would forgive such a debt but he doubted another mount would be provided. Maybe nothing else would be provided. It would be best to start saving for his future adventures. No one wanted to slay dragons while dressed in rags and wearing down the soles of their shoes because they couldn¡¯t afford good boots.

    The carriage came to a stop, putting an end to their musings. Robert proceeded them out, holding out a hand to Cecile and closing the door behind Lanston. Orphelia finished a conversation with a servant and passed over the reins of the horses. She walked over to the others. ¡°Are you all ready?¡±

    ¡°As we can be,¡± Robert answered for them.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    She led the way toward the entrance. As they walked, Robert caught a few gazes tracking them, more than one acolyte leaning toward their friends or hiding their words behind their hands. He swore he caught snippets of their conversations, the words ¡®dead¡¯, ¡®royal¡¯, and ¡®five points¡¯ standing out. His shoulders stiffened as he stomped forward, trying to keep his expression even.

    Someone caught his attention as they neared the Center Hall. Standing in front of the doors was a man dressed in a silvery-blue robe with a bald head that caught the light. The most distinctive thing about him was the fact that his feet didn¡¯t touch the ground, his body slightly dipping and rising as he used the wind affinity to elevate himself.

    ¡°Good morning, Master Aurelius,¡± Orphelia said cordially.

    ¡°Lady Yemen.¡± His gaze moved over their group. ¡°Lord Lorriette. Mister Quintana. Lady Guiness.¡±

    ¡°Master Aurelius,¡± Robert repeated, bowing his head. It was the least respect the man was owed. He was a master caster. Robert, more than most, understood the dedication and brilliance needed to receive that title. It wasn¡¯t just about coefficients. Anyone with enough time on their hands and the right knowledge could expand their mana core. The title required mastery over an affinity, something even his father who had toiled for decades as a soldier before working as a guard hadn¡¯t achieved.

    After Cecile and Lanston delivered their greetings, Aurelius announced, ¡°Privacy has been requested for your meeting so I will be escorting you.¡± He waved for them to follow as he entered the building, the crowd parting without prompting.

    ¡°Can you tell us who is waiting for us?¡± Orphelia asked, ignoring the unspoken impropriety of the request.

    ¡°I would ask you not to involve me in your matters, Lady Yemen. This is something between yourselves and your guardians.¡± He led them up the stairs. Robert caught faint glimpses of the other floors reserved for acolytes as he followed the man to the top floor. They were stopped by an ornate door with the symbol of magic carved into it, a five-pointed star on top of a circle, complete the corresponding affinity stones.

    Aurelius put his hand in the middle of the symbol. Robert gasped as hundreds of symbols lit up as the enchantment activated, the door swinging open. ¡°If you have a mind for creating artifacts, there are several open classes on the subject,¡± Aurelius said, looking over his shoulder.

    ¡°I have enough to focus on as it is,¡± Robert said ruefully.

    ¡°Four affinities. Many would see your talent as a blessing but we know it comes with a great responsibility. Mastering one affinity takes a lifetime of dedication. Mastering four means four times that effort and even more to learn to combine them effectively. You have the potential for a bright future but only if you remain steadfast.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your wisdom,¡± Robert said, feeling the truth in the words settle on his shoulders.

    ¡°No need. We¡¯ve arrived.¡± Aurelius had them down the single hallway to the door on the end. He knocked three times and a voice called for them to enter.

 Miniarc-Mentors 5

    Robert didn¡¯t know what he expected. A part of him realized they were somewhere important given the location of the room, at the top of the Center Hall and behind a door with the most sophisticated enchantment he¡¯d ever seen. However, he couldn¡¯t imagine that he would be coming face to face with the Harvest Hero himself.

    He had seen Dunwayne once. His mentor had taken him along to a banquet thrown by the first prince. Several officers in the royal army were in attendance along with many more knights. A good place to formally introduce him as his mentor¡¯s apprentice and successor. He had watched in awe as the man who¡¯d taken Robert under his wing chatted with the most famous caster in the kingdom.

    Now, here they stood again. Dunwayne sat behind a simple desk, his neatly trimmed gray hair giving him the air of a wise patriarch. Standing at the corner of his desk was his mentor, an older man with salt and pepper hair, serious brown eyes, and silver armor polished to a gleam.

    Manuel Reis Quintana, first of his name. Born to three generations of butchers, he found that his talent with knives extended to swordsmanship. As soon as he reached the age of majority at sixteen, he joined the royal army. He served three years as a common foot soldier until someone recognized his potential and offered him the opportunity to learn magic. Only then did they discover his dual affinities, wind and fire.

    With magic, he became several times more formidable. After racking up many achievements over the course of five years, the crown offered him the title of baron, allowing him to choose the name Quintana. He was knighted into the order of the Harvest Royal Knights, where he protected the royal family for two decades before retiring to start a family.

    He had yet to find a wife but he did find a young boy, bursting with unformed talent.

    Coming from a family of butchers, Manuel believed in the ¡®old way¡¯ when it came to apprentices. When sharing a family¡¯s secrets made someone family. He had asked Robert to take his last name and treated him like a son more than an apprentice or even a squire, like any order would.

    His second father turned a kind gaze to him and Robert hung his head in shame.

    Dunwayne chuckled as he stood from behind his desk. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to it, Reis,¡± he said cordially.

    ¡°Thank you, Dunn.¡±

    It spoke leagues to his mentor¡¯s reputation that he could request the grandmaster¡¯s office as a location for a private conversation. Robert risked a quick glance as the elderly caster passed by him, his heart pounding as Dunwayne offered him a small smile. The door closed quietly behind him and but the others remained paralyzed until Manuel addressed them. ¡°Are you all going to offer me a greeting?¡±

    ¡°Good morning, sir!¡± Robert snapped reflexively. The others followed as the knight took a seat at the grandmaster¡¯s desk. ¡°I¡­we thought that a messenger would be coming.¡±

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    ¡°I decided to come personally. Certain things that need to be said are too sensitive to be entrusted to just anyone to convey. First, I would like to express my condolences.¡± He met each of their gazes. ¡°Death looms over every caster but no one expected Sebas to be taken so soon.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what happened, sir?¡± Orphelia asked.

    ¡°I read the report you sent to your father, Lady Yemen. This is not another interrogation.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Unless there is something you feel I need to know?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t discovered anything new about the attack or anyone involved.¡±

    ¡°Mm. As I said, I come bearing messages.¡± He raised his gauntleted hands, clasping them. ¡°While what happened was an unexpected tragedy, it remains that one of your group was murdered before you. You may be novices, but it is still a failure of disastrous proportions. For your minder most of all, but also for the rest of you.¡± He sighed. ¡°However, I am not here to scold you.¡±

    Grabbing two envelopes on the desk, he motioned towards Cecile and Lanston who hesitantly approached. ¡°Letters from home. I¡¯ll be here for two days and will carry your responses back. Think carefully. Your words have more impact than you realize.¡± Lanston took the envelope with a grim face while Cecile paled. ¡°The two of you are dismissed. I need to speak with Robert and Orphelia alone.¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± Cecile said while Lanston nodded. They both gave Robert a glance before leaving the room, closing the door behind them.

    ¡°Now.¡± Manuel stood, moving around to the front of the desk and leaning against it. His brows furrowed as he glared at Orphelia. ¡°Explain yourself.¡±

    ¡°I believe I have¡ª¡± She stopped with a choking sound, a hand going to her throat as her mouth worked uselessly.

    ¡°I did not travel all the way here to listen to the water-down drivel of a scheming girl. I know your father and if you take after him even a little, then you¡¯re not telling us everything, either for yourself or for your family. I want to know what happened that day that you haven¡¯t told.¡±

    Robert watched with wide eyes as Orphelia¡¯s chest heaved with the deep breath she sucked down. ¡°I would think you would know better than me,¡± she said with a toneless voice. ¡°The assassin, Ethor, claimed to be working on the behest of an acquaintance of yours.¡±

    The knight frowned. ¡°It is not confirmed Ethor was an assassin. I have known Jonathan Iris since we were both grunts. We have walked through blood together. I won¡¯t believe that his apprentice, a boy that may as well have been his blood, would be a rebel, so do not speak of him as such.¡±

    ¡°Everything I know is in my report,¡± she said. ¡°If you don¡¯t believe me, let the capital¡¯s investigators give you a better answer.¡±

    ¡°I could pull the truth from you,¡± he declared, flexing the fingers on one hand.

    ¡°There is nothing to pull.¡±

    Tension made the air heavy as they held each other¡¯s gaze. Robert was afraid the conversation would come to blows and was questioning what he should do in such a situation when his mentor retreated, lowering his hand with a huff. ¡°Don¡¯t think you fool me. Unfortunately for you, someone else has claimed the duty for themselves.¡± Reaching behind him, he grabbed another envelope and held it out. ¡°While I don¡¯t know the specifics, I do know you have been summoned by the crown to testify about the events surrounding Sebas¡¯ death. I doubt you will be returning.¡±

    She stepped forward to grab the envelope but Manuel held onto it. He leaned forward, looming over her. ¡°If I find out you contributed to that boy¡¯s death or didn¡¯t act to your greatest ability to protect him and your charges, you will have to deal with me, personally.¡± He released the paper and she left the room without a backward glance.

 Miniarc-Mentors 6

    Robert stiffened as his mentor¡¯s gaze fell on him. He didn¡¯t know what expression he was making but it made the older man sigh. The knight straightened up and grabbed the chair behind the desk, setting it in the center of the room. He waved for Robert to sit. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to see that. It was unbecoming behavior for a knight.¡±

    ¡°You¡­must have had your reasons,¡± Robert said slowly. The sudden attack was unsettling but a small bit of violence wouldn¡¯t shake his belief in his mentor.

    ¡°Reasons.¡± Sir Quintana undid the ties of his gauntlets, setting the pieces of armor on the table. ¡°Her report said that she revealed her status as an agent of the crown?¡± Robert nodded. ¡°She was your minder, yours and Sebas¡¯ more than the others. An assignment she was given because she has the strength to complete it. Something she proved by killing Sebas¡¯ attackers. For him to have died is a failure of epic proportion that points to negligence, whether intentional or not. Somewhere, someone fucked up. That is obvious.¡±

    He rubbed his brow. ¡°The problem is where the blame lies. Yemen, Orphelia¡¯s father, is doing everything in his power to put that blame on anyone other than his daughter and himself. He is making¡­insinuations.¡±

    ¡°What kind?¡± Robert asked, offended on his mentor¡¯s behalf.

    Sir Quintana stared at him. ¡°We¡¯ll get to that. First, I need you to you tell me what happened from your point of view. Every detail. Start from the beginning and leave noting out.¡±

    So, Robert told him everything, starting from the time he and his team entered the Sanctuary. How the first morning started so simply, his team taking to the air after showing Thorgood a picture of their targets. How they landed after discovering a pile of dead mamaroons. How he lost his mount, though his words came haltingly as he retold his encounter with the strange monster.

    ¡°Your report said it could be a slime.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Lanston said the creature closely resembled one but there were also several strange characteristics. If it was a slime, he thinks it was a rare evolution.¡±

    ¡°Mm. And you challenged this creature for its kills?¡±

    Robert fought the urge to hang his head. He had messed up. Sulking like a child wouldn¡¯t make up for it and wouldn¡¯t garner him any sympathy. ¡°I¡­I initially tried to scare it off, hoping a larger predator would intimidate it. When it turned hostile, we attempted to bring it down.¡±

    The knight rubbed his brow. ¡°What are the three rules when it comes to monsters?¡±

    ¡°¡­never underestimate them, never chase ones that run unless you have no choice, and¡­never engage an unknown if you can avoid it.¡±

    Sir Quintana sighed. ¡°It sounds as if you broke two out of three rules at the same time.¡±

    Robert swallowed. ¡°Sorry, sir.¡±

    ¡°What were you thinking?¡±

    He didn¡¯t want to say that he didn¡¯t think it would be that strong. It was a blob of ooze that didn¡¯t even reach his waist. How was he to know that it was magic resistant and hit like a mountain? ¡°It had Thor.¡±

    The knight frowned. ¡°Could you defeat a roc in single combat? Kill one in a matter of moments?¡±

    Robert mutely shook his head.

    ¡°Then what in the abyss gave you the idea that you could defeat the creature that is capable of doing such a thing?¡± his mentor snapped. ¡°The second you saw a being several times your weight and strength being wrestled down and your first spell didn¡¯t work, you should have ran like your ass was on fire! Saints, it¡¯s a miracle you all didn¡¯t die right then!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so¡ª"

    ¡°Stop. I don¡¯t need you to keep apologizing. Keep going, what happened next?¡±

    Robert continued, retelling the painful march as they searched for help. He took his time recounting meeting Ethor and his team for the first time, trying his best to recall every detail. It was difficult as the future murderer of his friend hadn¡¯t made much of an impression. They had declined to offer any aid and Robert had stopped paying attention to them, needing all his focus to keep moving despite the pain of his injuries.

    He couldn¡¯t stop the scorn from seeping into his tone as he spoke of how they sought shelter from the degenerate woman.

    ¡°Lourianne Tome,¡± Sir Quintana mused. ¡°There is a lot of discussion surrounding that young woman right now. What can you tell me about her?¡±

    Robert paused. While his first instinct was to hurl insults, he recalled Orphelia¡¯s words about ruining someone¡¯s reputation. He knew his mentor was a powerful man. He personally knew the king, having served directly under him as a royal knight. If Sir Quintana himself targeted the woman, her future in Harvest was basically over. He had to question if his personal dislike for her was reason enough to actively seek her destruction and if he had legitimate reason for his negative feelings.

    In the end, he decided to simply tell events as they happened and let his mentor draw his own conclusions. He trusted his teacher and his judgments. If the knight saw fit to condemn the degenerate, then he could rest assured and set aside Orphelia¡¯s words as more of her manipulations.

    ¡°She is a summoner with two succubi. I don¡¯t know much about them except that one of them healed my wounds. She invited us to share her shelter once promised a suitable reward from Cecile.¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°So, she acts for gold.¡±

    Robert¡¯s mouth opened but he held back, reminding himself to stick to the facts. However, his mentor noticed. ¡°Don¡¯t hold back. I want to hear your impressions.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to¡­muddy any waters.¡±

    The knight scoffed. ¡°You think you have the ability to twist my head, huh?¡±

    ¡°No! It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Speak, boy. I didn¡¯t come here to listen to what you wrote on that piece of paper you sent me. I want your experience, including whatever is making you so uncomfortable when it comes to that woman. That¡¯s an order.¡±

    Robert felt the last of his resistance melt away. ¡°I don¡¯t think she is motivated by gold. It wasn¡¯t a hard negotiation. Cecile gave her a vague promise. Merchants always want hard numbers, right?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Seems you paid attention to some of your lessons.¡±

    He cleared his throat. ¡°Yeah, well, she didn¡¯t care. She was¡­flippant about letting us stay around. Like¡­¡± He thought on the proper way to frame her dismissive attitude for his team. ¡°Her ¡®kindness¡¯ felt like someone feeding birds pieces of bread. There was no empathy behind it. It was a whim for her amusement. She barely spoke two words to us.¡±

    ¡°This is why I told you to speak your mind. If one simply reads the reports, Lourianne Tome is a saint. She took in an injured team with no immediate benefit to herself, healed your wounds, fed you, and sheltered you. Actions all deserving of praise. And yet, the picture you paint of the events turn it into something very different. Was she hostile toward you?¡±

    ¡°No. Well¡­¡± Again, he had to pause to find the right words, making sure he wasn¡¯t letting his own perceptions color his words too much. ¡°She does not like being challenged. We were discussing sleeping arrangements. Or rather she told us where we would be sleeping. Sebas was unhappy being allocated to sleep outside the shelter and made his opinions known. She assaulted him.¡±

    Sir Quintana perked up. ¡°She injured him before his death?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I think she broke his wrist and little finger but both injuries were healed before the fight later.¡±

    ¡°Did you intervene?¡±

    Robert started. ¡°Ah, no.¡±

    The knight¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Why not?¡±

    His apprentice swallowed heavily. ¡°She moved too fast. I couldn¡¯t track her at all. One moment, she¡¯s lounging and the next she¡¯s in front of him with her hand on his throat. I couldn¡¯t have gotten between them and didn¡¯t want to start a fight between our teams. Both Sebas and I used a lot of mana and we were all exhausted.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t think you could win.¡±

    Robert flinched. ¡°No,¡± he forced out.

    Sir Quintana stood from his seat and laid a hand on Robert¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s a hard thing to admit one¡¯s weakness but never shameful.¡±

    Robert nodded sharply and his mentor stepped back. ¡°Keep going.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well, when we woke up and entered the shelter for breakfast, we witnessed Orphelia, um.¡± He cleared his throat, fighting a blush. A part of him felt guilty speaking of the women as he was about to. Then he thought that he barely counted Lou as a woman and Orphelia certainly wouldn¡¯t hesitate if their positions were reversed. ¡°I witnessed Orphelia being intimate with Lady Tome.¡±

    Sir Quintana paused, eyes widening in shock. ¡°That was not in the report her father shared. When you say intimate¡­¡±

    He waved for Robert to elaborate. ¡°I mean, they got physical¡­in a sexual way. Then Lourianne slept with their guide. She had a, ah.¡± He vaguely gestured toward his crotch, his blush intensifying as the memories came unbidden. ¡°A sword sheathed between her legs,¡± he said finally, smiling bitterly as he recalled Sebas¡¯ words.

    ¡°Yes, that was mentioned.¡± The knights face remained neutral, giving Robert no indication on how the man felt about the information and he was too embarrassed to ask. ¡°There was no mention of Lourianne Tome in Orphelia¡¯s report besides raising the question of her supposed fertility.¡± He bowed his head in thought for several long moments before turning a piercing gaze on his apprentice. ¡°Do you know what her interest is in Lady Tome?¡±

    ¡°She only said that it would benefit us and the kingdom to have cordial relationships with her.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t wrong but this is too suspicious.¡± He huffed. ¡°Continue.¡±

    Robert swallowed. ¡°We spent the second day at the shelter.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t try to complete the objective?¡±

    He winced, hoping his mentor would let him gloss over the details. ¡°No. Orphelia received five mamaroons from Lady Tome.¡±

    ¡°For what price?¡±

    ¡°¡­I was told it was a gift.¡±

    ¡°Mm. With her team¡¯s points, I suppose they could spare twenty-five for a gift. Do you know how she managed to accumulate so many points?¡±

    ¡°I never spoke to her about it¡­but I have a theory.¡± He didn¡¯t need prompting to know his mentor wanted him to continue. ¡°The creature that killed Thorgood had a pile of mamaroons beside it. A pile about the same size as the pile at the back of their shelter.¡±

    ¡°You think that the creature abandoned its original meal after eating Thorgood and Lady Tome discovered the bodies, claiming them for herself. Reasonable. Monsters naturally seek out mana as it aides in their evolution, be it mana dense areas or mana dense food. It¡¯s why casters are far more likely to be attacked than non-casters.¡± He chuckled. ¡°That girl has the saints¡¯ luck.¡±

    Robert didn¡¯t share his mirth. He tried not to feel bitter as he continued. ¡°Once the qualifiers were over, we made to leave. That¡¯s when Ethor and his team arrived.¡± The knight¡¯s smile vanished, features coming down in a stern mask. ¡°Ethor questioned whether we were allied. Once he confirmed we were not, he offered Lady Tome¡¯s team fifty gold crowns to stand aside as he robbed us of our points.¡±

    ¡°He bought her? You are on a team with a branch member of the royal family and a Guiness daughter. Why did you not outbid him?¡±

    ¡°Originally, we did. Ethor realized that he couldn¡¯t win with gold so he called Lady Tome to his side. They had a conversation. Afterwards, she announced that they would stand aside for the fifty crowns and a ¡®favor¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Did you inquire what this favor was?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°No? Is that where negotiations ended? I¡¯m sure if all of you tried, you could match any offer this Ethor was able to make.¡±

    ¡°¡­we didn¡¯t try.¡±

    The knight let out a deep sigh. ¡°I am at a loss, Bobby. This man was threatening you. You didn¡¯t have Thorgood and you lost your sword, putting you at a disadvantage before the fight began. Then you let him negotiate away five allies that could have meant the difference between him fighting or turning around. I¡¯ve read Orphelia¡¯s report on the fight. She claimed that you refused to attack him?¡±

    ¡°With lethal force!¡± he hurried to explain.

    ¡°Is that supposed to make it better?! What were you thinking? Answer me!¡± he snapped when Robert hesitated too long.

    ¡°¡­I didn¡¯t think it was a battle to the death,¡± the young man replied haltingly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back his rising emotions. ¡°He claimed to be the disciple of a knight, an acquaintance of yours. He didn¡¯t seem threatening. I didn¡¯t negotiate further with Lady Tome because it didn¡¯t seem worth the price of doing business with that woman. I can only imagine what favor Ethor promised, especially now. I didn¡¯t think that another initiate would have so much more battle experience. I didn¡¯t think he would use lethal force. I¡­didn¡¯t think the Sanctuary and the instructors would let someone be killed by another initiate. I didn¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°What you¡¯re saying,¡± Sir Quintana interrupted, voice stern, ¡°is that you didn¡¯t think at all.¡±

    Robert flinched and lost the battle to keep his head high, dropping his gaze to the floor. He couldn¡¯t face the clear disappointment of his teacher and his throat bobbed as he struggled not to show any more weakness by becoming emotional.

 Miniarc-Mentors 7

    Sir Quintana watched his apprentice for several moments before letting out a deep sigh. ¡°I understand. You want to be an honorable man. You want to be merciful. That caused you to stay your hand.¡± He straightened off the desk, stepping forward and towering over the seated young man. ¡°But honor and mercy are luxuries reserved for the strong. You cannot be a hero if you¡¯re dead, Bobby.

    ¡°You hesitated to throw a stronger spell because you were afraid a mistake would make you a murderer. The only casters afraid of their own magic are those who don¡¯t practice enough,¡± he snapped. ¡°Besides, mistakes happen. Spells misfire. People get hurt. If it must happen, you make sure the worst of the consequences fall to your opponents, not yourself!¡±

    Robert had practically curled into himself at the shouting. Seeing it, his mentor retreated, turning his back to his apprentice. ¡°Perhaps this is my fault.¡±

    ¡°Sir!¡± Robert shouted in objection, relaxing as his mentor raised his hand for silence.

    ¡°Perhaps I coddled you too much. You were a boy when I found you. I meant to take you as a simple apprentice but it wasn¡¯t long before I saw you as a son. I gave you my last name. Instead of drilling the art of war into you, I bought books on heroes. Instead of letting you get your ass kicked in the local tavern, I stood on the sidelines as you fought duels with codes of conduct.¡±

    His shoulders slumped with his heavy sigh. ¡°I may be a knight but I was and always will be a soldier. I should have raised a soldier but somehow, along the way, I got caught up in your hero dreams. After years of wading through the muck in the capital, the thought of being a part of an untainted force for good¡­¡± He shook his head as he turned around. ¡°Is there anything else you want to tell me?¡±

    Robert couldn¡¯t begin to unpack what his mentor¡¯s condemnation meant and made him feel. Better to leave it for later and answer the question. ¡°After Ethor¡¯s attack, I suddenly lost consciousness.¡±

    ¡°The Yemen girl says you fainted.¡±

    ¡°No! I know I didn¡¯t. Is it not strange that the three of us all dropped at the same time and all woke after the fighting finished? I¡­made many mistakes during the qualifiers but I am no coward. I didn¡¯t faint from fear.¡±

    ¡°No¡­a coward you are not.¡± Robert sighed in relief, glad that his mentor hadn¡¯t lost all confidence in him. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°After, one of the instructors¡ª"

    ¡°Alyssa Filagree.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that was her name. She brought us to Lady Tome¡¯s house to interview us.¡±

    ¡°That girl again.¡±

    Robert nodded quickly. ¡°But it was her¡­wife that extended an invitation. We were waiting for Lady Tome to finish her interview when Orphelia got into a fight with Alana.¡±

    ¡°Alana?¡±

    ¡°Alana James.¡±

    Sir Quintana hummed and stroked his beard. ¡°Alana¡­I don¡¯t remember that name. Funny, the crown likes to keep an eye on that family. Do you know what branch she¡¯s from?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s the daughter of the duke.¡±

    ¡°The duke? Ah! It¡¯s coming to me now. A few years back, there was a big thing about the duke taking in one of his bastards. She must be the brat born with the light affinity.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Shame, letting a talent like that be wasted on the fort. Then? Why would an agent of the crown be fighting with a James daughter? And why wouldn¡¯t she mention it?¡±

    Robert shook his head. ¡°I believe the fight started because of Alana¡¯s sense of justice. She was angry that the Hall wasn¡¯t taking more action against Orphelia for killing Ethor and his team. She is¡­righteous.¡±

    ¡°Righteous? The orders of Victory are more soldier-like than the royal army. I find it hard to believe a James daughter of all people would pick a fight because the Yemen girl executed criminals.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Do you know where the jails are located in Victory? The ground.¡±

    ¡°Alana is an honorable woman,¡± Robert said stiffly, instinctively defending her. ¡°She made no qualms about Ethor¡¯s death. It was the others that upset her. From what she says, they showed no hostile intentions but Orphelia killed them anyway.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Her report said they tried to help him escape. Whether they attacked or not, aiding the killer in any way was enough to warrant their deaths. Back to the fight. What happened?¡±

    ¡°Well, Orphelia disorientated the room with a spell. Through my hazy vision, I believe I saw Orphelia holding Alana down. Then, Lady Tome appeared.¡± He shivered as he recalled the scene in the degenerate¡¯s home. ¡°There was a blur and then she was there, holding Orphelia by the throat. I¡­couldn¡¯t make out details but I heard Orphelia gasp. Then Lady Tome broke her neck.¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Sir Quintana stilled. ¡°Broke her neck?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. If that happened, she would be dead.¡±

    ¡°The elf healed her.¡±

    ¡°Healed a broken neck? Before the rest of the body started to shut down?! Saints!¡± The knight ran a frustrated hand over his short hair. ¡°No wonder it wasn¡¯t in that girl¡¯s report. We still have no idea the full scope of what a pure affinity can do. If she can do that¡­fuck.¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not something you need to worry about.¡± Sir Quintana nodded. ¡°Alright. Thank you for being open with me, my boy. I know it must be hard to talk about.¡±

    It was but nothing was harder than seeing his friend¡¯s corpse. A little discomfort couldn¡¯t be compared to the heart-stopping sensation that overcame him when his vision cleared and he saw Orphelia lying prone, head at an unnatural angle. His mentor was counting on him. He wouldn¡¯t let his embarrassment get in the way.

    ¡°There are some things you need to know. You personally. Not Cecile. Not Lanston.¡± He held Robert¡¯s stare until the younger man nodded solemnly. ¡°The capital is in a state of crisis. There is a threat brewing in the kingdom. There is talk of war.¡±

    ¡°With who?¡± Robert asked anxiously.

    Sir Quintana waved his hand. ¡°Not your battle, Bobby. The problem is, this is not the time for anyone to question the loyalty of soldiers. And that¡¯s exactly what¡¯s happening. That bastard Yemen is using this situation to throw shit on everyone but his daughter. People are questioning John¡¯s loyalty and that of his order. They¡¯re questioning my loyalty. And if two men who have served this kingdom for decades are being called into question, everyone is. The court is this close to boiling over.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t fair!¡± Robert shouted. ¡°My actions shouldn¡¯t reflect on you.¡±

    ¡°Boy, of course your actions reflect on me. You share my name. With four affinities, you are undoubtedly the most talented caster in this kingdom. You have the potential to surpass all of us. But make no mistake. You are only valuable if that value is given to the kingdom. Right now, the crown considers you an asset. You¡¯re not going to want to hear it but you¡¯re their prized stallion. I¡¯ve been able to keep the most unscrupulous of the bunch away but there are plenty of eyes on you, Bobby. Dirty bastards who want you to be nothing more than an obedient weapon.¡±

    ¡°They¡­can¡¯t do that.¡±

    The knight grunted, shaking his head. ¡°Course they can. If you¡¯re not an asset, then you¡¯re a threat and the crown doesn¡¯t take threats lightly. If you don¡¯t believe me, think of that Yemen girl. Children aren¡¯t born cruel monsters. Her father molded her into someone that could slaughter five people without blinking. That¡¯s what they¡¯d do to you if given half the chance. And every time you fail, every time you fuck up, you make it that much easier for them to get their hands on you!¡±

    Robert swallowed, realizing his mentor was entirely serious. He was used to others trying to get close to him and endured flattery from nobles anticipating his eventual rise to power every time his mentor took him to banquets. It was hard to imagine the same men and women who smiled and offered him gifts conspiring to¡­he wasn¡¯t sure. Break him, but his mind full of heroes and damsels couldn¡¯t imagine what that meant. ¡°Am¡­am I in trouble?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Robert winced. ¡°But it¡¯s not too late. However, it¡¯s shit timing. I¡¯m going to be honest with you, my boy. It¡¯ll take something drastic to reverse the tide rising against us. It won¡¯t be easy or slow. You need to prepare yourself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m ready, sir,¡± Robert said quickly. Eager to make up for his failures.

    ¡°I hope you can keep that determination because I¡¯m going to ask the impossible of you. It¡¯s not enough to prove yourself. You have go beyond anything anyone expects. And I know the way to do it.¡± For a moment, the knight¡¯s eyes softened, showing an emotion that was gone before Robert could recognize it. Then his features froze in a blank mask. ¡°In four weeks, there is a campaign headed past the Bleak Peaks to once again challenge the lords of winter and their servants. You are going to join it.¡±

    He thought he was prepared for any task but his new determination was immediately rattled when he heard the name Bleak Peaks. Everyone knew death waited in the lands beyond the mountain range. Not a single campaign had returned successful, ever. It was no longer a question if they would face defeat, only how many more bodies would be buried under the endless snow.

    Robert eventually wanted to conquer all the challenges in the world but not now. He certainly didn¡¯t want to face the most dangerous place on the continent. But his mentor¡¯s expression made it clear he didn¡¯t have a choice. Not if he wanted to keep the name Quintana and the knight¡¯s protection. ¡°¡­I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    Sir Quintana laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. ¡°I know the man in charge of the ¡®hired help¡¯ as it were. He¡¯s not going to throw novices at the front line. I won¡¯t delude you into thinking that it¡¯ll be easy or simple but if you stay alert and listen to the experts, there¡¯s no reason you shouldn¡¯t survive. That¡¯s all you have to do, Bobby. Survive.¡±

    Robert nodded jerkily. The knight squeezed his shoulder before dropping his hand. He waved for Robert to stand up and took the chair, placing it back behind Dunwayne¡¯s desk. ¡°I suggest you take this time to visit the guilds. You can get the practical experience you need fighting monsters. And for the next few months, I suggest you stick to fire and wind. They will be the most useful against monsters used to cold and snow. I always tell you to stop overthinking your magic. You can spend five minutes weaving all four elements into a spell and it¡¯ll be powerful but the man who can throw a fire arrow in five seconds will kick your ass.¡±

    Another challenge. The test in the Sanctuary was the first time he¡¯d hunted monsters without his mentor¡¯s guidance and it ended it utter failure. Taking a job from a guild would be the second. A normally daunting prospect but seeing as he would soon have to face certain death, it barely bothered him. ¡°¡­what are your plans for the rest of the day?¡±

    The blank mask broke. ¡°Miss me, eh?¡±

    ¡°No! I, uh¡ª"

    ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have much free time. I have to make arrangements for your instructor. And no, I won¡¯t tell you who they are. It¡¯s a surprise.¡± He chuckled at Robert¡¯s exasperation. ¡°There are a few people I have to see as well.¡± He gently pushed Robert toward the door. ¡°Go on. I¡¯ll find you before I leave.¡±

    ¡°¡­goodbye, sir.¡±

 Miniarc-Mentors 8

    Dismissed from the grandmaster¡¯s office, Orphelia joined Cecile and Lanston in the hall. Both were absorbed with reading their respective letters, paying no mind to her. Not wanting to risk the chance of the enchantment on the exit smiting her if she tried to leave, Orphelia leaned against a wall and opened her own letter. Predictably, it was written by her father and he was not happy.

    Dear daughter,

    I hope this letter finds you in good health. I was appalled to hear about your troubles. While I understand the Hall has its ways of teaching, to callously put those under their care in such danger is a travesty and shows an utter disregard for the crown. Saints bless the king, despite the crown¡¯s loss, I can only be thankful that you survived.

    Given recent events, it is clear the Grand Hall is not a suitable place for your education. It may seem like a loss of opportunity now but I guarantee this will not be a setback on your road to spell mastery. Your mother and I have high expectations for your talent, after all. Upon your return to the capital, the finest tutors available will be ready to continue your instruction, or perhaps even an apprenticeship can be discussed.

    Sir Quintana has graciously offered to allow you to accompany him upon his return. Before your departure, I have a task for you. Sir Quintana brought along a package for an acquaintance. Please see it arrives safely.

    I look forward to your return.

    Be well, daughter.

    Below the last line was her father¡¯s personal crest. Rather than a boar lying in front of three stalks of wheat, the official crest of her family, it was a snake. The viper that hunted the pest who coveted the bountiful harvest of the kingdom. A venomous creature whose poison worked just as well on its masters if handled incorrectly.

    Sir Quintana¡¯s words proved correct. Her father was calling her home to face judgment. The letter was perfectly civil on the surface, undoubtedly written that way to disguise his intentions from any prying eyes. She was surprised there was no hidden message in the words. She supposed her father had enough faith in her intelligence, or perhaps in his long years of abuse, that she would be able to discern his intentions. Truly, if he did away with the fanfare, his message equated to two lines.

    Despite your failure, the situation is still salvageable. Complete your final task and return to the capital.

    The time of her judgment was upon her, though she expected a light sentence. If her father intended to punish her, he would have been more abrupt. Oh, the language would have remained flowery and cheerful but he had the flaw of being unable to truly keep his temperament from his writing. It would have shown in the writing itself, the strokes of his pen biting deeper into the paper as his anger manifested.

    Though, it could all be a trap, a fake tell. He could be very aware of his ¡®weakness¡¯ and using her knowledge of it to drop her guard. Keep her content and loyal as she completed her latest assignment, delivering a mystery parcel. It wasn¡¯t the first time she¡¯d played the role of messenger but the timing was off. She didn¡¯t doubt that her father had a contact in the Hall but she didn¡¯t know what he could be asking of them in the midst of this turmoil. It didn¡¯t bode well. Normally, she would simply put the greater considerations out of her mind but she had another agenda to consider.

    As she contemplated her task, Robert and Sir Quintana exited the room. She mentally prepared herself for another attack, or perhaps just a glare now that the knight had had a moment to calm himself. His attention fell on her but there was no emotion behind his gaze. ¡°I¡¯ve got something for you. Follow me.¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond as he led the way down the hall, opening the door to the stairs without the enchantment activating. Better that he had tested it rather than her.

    Their group drew attention as they exited the Center Hall but not nearly as much as they would walking on the streets of the capital. Part of it was the acolytes¡¯ focus on their studies but she suspected that ignorance was the root cause. As famous as he was, she doubted even twenty percent of the people here knew the name Manuel Reis Quintana. Of them, only a fraction could recognize him. Still, the knight had a presence that drew curious eyes.

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    At the front of the building, Sir Quintana spoke to Robert, Cecile, and Lanston, giving his adopted son a vigorous rub on the head that splayed his hair in all directions and thoroughly embarrassed him. They boarded the carriage borrowed from the Gold Dorm and took off, Robert waving from the window as they galloped away.

    ¡°How heartwarming.¡±

    Sir Quintana turned to face her and his smile faded. He waved to her impatiently, moving quickly around the back of the building. There was a patch of grass where several carriages idled, some with their beasts of burden still harnessed while others had joined the personal mounts in a large stable.

    One of the carriages immediately caught her attention. Its size was unimpressive but it was constructed from southern blackwood, a tree with dark gray streaks that ran through its bark. Its lumber was dark enough it could easily be called black and it was the strongest known wood in the world. Not even the exotic lumber the Guiness Company sourced from Green Mountain could compare. The wood could deflect swords wielded by trained knights and was even resistant to fire, though not completely immune. A single plank was horrendously expensive, as very little escaped the clutches of the royal family, who claimed most of it for the use of the royal knights and army.

    Harnessed to the carriage were four monsters. They vaguely resembled horses in that they had four long legs, stout bodies, long necks, and elegant manes. However, only a fool could mistake them as such.

    While a warhorse of the finest quality might be able to match them in size, no breed had their midnight black color with undertones of fire, ranging from crimson reds to yellow and orange. It was as if they each had raging infernos inside their chests that gave their dark bodies a nightmarish glow. The fire burst through their skulls, flowing down their long necks in wild manes and out of their eye sockets, like hearth fires. Smoke curled around their hooves, the ground singed wherever they stepped.

    Fevids, mounts praised for both their speed and power. Born from one of the breeding programs of the Sanctuary, fevids wielded both the wind and fire affinities. When they charged, a maelstrom of fire surrounded them, incinerating everything in their path. They were as dangerous as any knight riding them but were not favored as mounts.

    Their bodies were dangerously hot and they were known for ¡®flare-ups¡¯, suddenly coating their bodies in white-hot flame whenever they lost their short tempers. One had to have a mastery of the fire affinity or special, and expensive, equipment to ride one. They were known as the ¡°mad mounts¡±. As in, someone had to be mad to waste sizable amounts of gold to risk their lives riding one when there were easier and cheaper options.

    She watched as Sir Quintana fearlessly walked up to the closest creature and stroked its snout. The fire comprising its mane flared but he seemed unbothered by the heat. The animal huffed, snorting twin gouts of flame.

    ¡°Fascinating creatures,¡± she said as she slowly approached. One of them raised its head, spearing her with a glare she could feel despite there being nothing but fire within the two sockets. ¡°I¡¯ve always wonder how they can see.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t, not the way we do,¡± the knight said as he circled around to the back of the carriage. Touching an inconspicuous piece of wood, it began to glow with the light of an enchantment and a small drawer slid out. ¡°They see heat.¡± He opened the top of the drawer, withdrawing a small, ornate wooden box and another letter. He passed them over. From the quality of the work on the box, she knew a master must have done the carvings, all depictions of nature, mainly trees. She couldn¡¯t imagine what was inside the palm-sized container that warranted such expensive wrapping.

    She expected the letter to be a message from her father but was proved wrong by the wax seal. A crown in the middle of a tower shield with two crossed swords behind it. The royal seal.

    Orphelia stared at it dumbly, mind rapidly turning as she tried to imagine what circumstances had led to her delivering a message for the king. A part of her itched to rip it open and see the contents, an urge that tripled in intensity when she saw who it was addressed to.

    To Miss Kierra Atainna

    ¡°To be clear,¡± Sir Quintana said, snapping her from her daze, ¡°I am the true messenger. You are being allowed to accompany me to ¡®make introductions¡¯ and smooth the way. Something that sounded like more of that snake¡¯s maneuvering until I heard from my heir how close you are to Lady Tome.¡±

    His tone made it clear that he had heard of her actions during the qualifiers and his expression said he didn¡¯t think much of her for them. ¡°Are you sure your conduct isn¡¯t going to make things more difficult for me?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. Lou has an appreciation for women and her wife appreciates her. You, good knight, are an old, crass soldier. If you showed up alone, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she turned you away at the door.¡±

    He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not my decision to make.¡± He moved around the carriage and opened the door, waving for her to get in. The inside was just as spartan as the outside. She was grateful that at least the seats were cushioned.

    ¡°Are we not waiting for your driver?¡±

    He scoffed. ¡°Do you think anyone can control fevids? I¡¯m the driver. Now, get in before I decide to do this on my own.¡±

    An empty threat. The king himself had ordered she assist him so he would be going nowhere without her. That didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t make the trip uncomfortable. She decided to make both their lives easier and climbed into the carriage without a fuss.

 Miniarc-Mentors 9

    The manors within the residential district of the Grand Hall would be impressive to anyone but true nobility. When most peasants squeezed entire families into homes with one room, two-stories and an expansive garden seemed opulent. Being set far from the road gave the illusion of privacy, mimicking the isolated estates of nobles, despite the manors lacking the individuality of a personal home.

    The manor gifted to Kierra was especially appealing due to the garden. It was not so much the brilliant colors that drew Orphelia¡¯s eyes but the strangeness of the plants. Some had stalks as thick as a thin tree trunk, with large, pouting petals that drooped to the sides. They shaded smaller plants that resembled weeds, with bright blue beads growing all along them, smaller than any berries she¡¯d ever seen, along with flowers with faintly glowing petals in shades of blue through violet, interspersed between blades of long grass. As they rode toward the front door, she spotted a stone square platform surrounded by tall hedges. Thick, dark green vines hung from them and when the carriage passed, Orphelia swore she saw the things flick in their direction.

    Before she could dwell on that possibility for too long, the carriage came to a stop. The door opened and Sir Quintana waved her out. She clutched her parcels close to her chest as she descended, staring toward the small manor hesitantly. Tension wormed its way through her gut as a shroud of dread fell on her shoulders, making them slump.

    Logically, she knew no danger waited for her beyond the simple wooden door but emotions did not obey logic. She could almost feel a powerful grip closing around her throat and she swallowed reflexively, the movement reminding her that she wasn¡¯t at an angry woman¡¯s mercy.

    ¡°Oi.¡± A hand on her shoulder jolted her from her memories. She turned to see Sir Quintana watching her with narrowed eyes. ¡°If there¡¯s something you¡¯re hiding, now is a good time to tell me.¡± His gaze dropped meaningfully to the box and letter she carried. A reminder that no matter how slippery her father could be, compromising a mission for the king himself would end with them stripped of their titles at the very least.

    ¡°No, good sir. I was simply overcome with excitement for a moment.¡± His eyes said he didn¡¯t believe her but she ignored him, squaring her shoulders as she marched up to the front door. She grabbed the simple knocker and banged it three times.

    A second later it was opened by the steward, a young boy dressed impeccably in a dark purple jacket with gold buttons and dark trousers. ¡°Welcome back, Lady Yemen,¡± he said in a polite tone. He dipped his head in acknowledgment before turning to Sir Quintana. ¡°Forgive me, I do not recognize you and neither the lady nor the mistress informed me they were expecting guests.¡±

    ¡°My name is Manuel Reis Quintana. Simple servant of the crown. We have come delivering a message for Kierra Atainna. It would be best if we are able to speak with her as soon as possible.¡±

    [I didn¡¯t expect to see you so soon, Orphie~] the creature whispered into her mind. [And who is this that you have brought with you? A royal knight. How exciting.]

    Don¡¯t try to enter his mind!

    [Hoh? You¡¯re giving me orders?]

    It is not an order! It¡¯s a warning. He has more experience with the mental affinity than me. There is a far greater chance of him recognizing the intrusion. If the succubus¡¯ machinations were discovered, she highly doubted she would escape the scrutiny of the interrogators. They and, more importantly, her father, would come to learn of their conversations.

    [After everything, you still underestimate me. Do you need another lesson, my pretty blade?]

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    Orphelia shuddered, though it was a sensation contained to her mind as the succubus had once again isolated her mind from the flow of time for their conversation. She tried not to think of the memories but with nothing to distract her, they came unbidden.

    The feeling of disconnect as her body fell to the floor. Of being present in Lou¡¯s living room but also separate. How her body, no, her soul had expanded, becoming as light as air. How every worry, scheme, and regret had fallen away as she rose above the manor, above the sky, to the empty darkness that waited beyond.

    It waited for her there. She had no eyes to see but a new sense told her the thing was enormous. All she could grasp was the smallest piece of it but the twilight-colored limbs dotted with stars were large enough to encircle the world many times. They moved through the darkness, the creature moving alongside the planet, as the planet revolved around the burning sun.

    Around her, she saw other people, other souls, all rising from the world as ever-shifting balls of color. As they rose, they left behind almost transparent trails, something she instinctively knew to be their connection to their bodies, their lives. The trails thinned the higher they rose, from the width of a rope to that of a thread and then to that of spider silk. Tendrils branched off from the planet-sized twilight limbs, each growing thinner as they moved closer to the souls. They wrapped around them, severing the threads of life, and pulled them toward the larger limb.

    The souls around her were reaped by the hundreds every moment and she could also see tendrils reaching for her. In moments, her own thread would be cut, ending her life, but Orphelia felt nothing for her fate. Like action, emotion was beyond her.

    Then, her thread thickened and contracted, dragging her soul down and out of the reach of the hungry appendages. Back down beneath the sky, through the roof of Lou¡¯s home, and into her freshly healed body. There was a moment of dissonance as her soul adjusted to once more being inside a vessel.

    Normally, her mortal mind would have no way to process what she witnessed, grasping only faint echoes of light and darkness that commonly comprised tales of the afterlife. However, the creature went to work, translating what she experienced into recognizable ideals. A giant monstrosity that devoured souls.

    There was no Paradise that welcomed saints. No Abyss that destroyed you, making way for more righteous souls. Above their world, a being beyond comprehension waited for them to die so it could reap their very beings, harvesting them like a farmer scything wheat. Their greatest heroes, their worst villains, and everyone between, nothing but crop.

    [I contend with gods, my blade. A mere man does not pose any obstacle. However, I will not riffle through his memories. While he himself cannot detect me, he carries with him an artifact meant to repel mana intrusion. I could shatter the flimsy thing but there is no need to expose myself. Not when he will tell me everything I want to know through his own will. Truly, you all think so loudly, I¡¯d have to be simple not to overhear.]

    Orphelia shuddered as time resumed, a belayed action. The knight looked to her curiously but his gaze returned to the boy as the steward spoke. ¡°This is an inconvenient time for the mistress,¡± he said with more than a hint of reproach. If she were not visible, Orphelia would have laughed at the sight of a boy not even of age to inherit his house telling off an ex-royal knight but she kept her humor inside. She needed to throw away the ingrained respect that came with such titles anyway. After all, no matter what he accomplished in this life, he would die and be reaped all the same. He was just a man. A hairless ape dressed in shiny metal, as the creature would say.

    The knight did not look happy being rebuffed. She thought it was because of who was doing the rebuffing. After all, no matter their business, it was impolite to arrive on a noble¡¯s doorstep without arranging a meeting time or announcing themselves. This was the expected response but it couldn¡¯t feel good being told off by a boy younger than his apprentice. Such was why stewards tended to be older servants who could command respect from the powerful people they served by virtue of their experience if not their station.

    ¡°My apologies for our sudden arrival but our business is urgent. We carry a message from the king and must deliver it post haste. We ask your mistress for her understanding.¡± In a move that must have chipped the man¡¯s pride, he lowered his head to the boy in a show of sincerity.

    From the steward¡¯s expression, Orphelia thought he might turn them away, king be damned, but then he suddenly changed. His features lost the slightest hints of scorn they carried as he stepped back, opening the door wide. ¡°Understood, Sir Quintana. Please follow me to the backyard.¡±

 Miniarc-Mentors 10

    The steward led them through the kitchen to the hall containing the servants¡¯ rooms and out the back door, leading to another garden. Not far from the door stood a long table though it was missing place settings and chairs. A glass vase that contained a dozen pink flowers sat in the center, the few petals scattered over the white tablecloth an unexpected glimpse of beauty that eased some of Orphelia¡¯s tension.

    Lou and her wife were on the grass. The sloppy noble lied on her back, an arm thrown over her eyes, as her wife grinned down at her. While the noble lady was dressed in common training garments, a loose shirt and pants, the elf¡¯s attire could be called nothing other than scandalous. A thin strip of white cloth barely restrained her prodigious chest and Orphelia would feel more comfortable calling the brown shorts that barely covered the woman¡¯s ass underwear. Her silver hair was tied in a high ponytail, showing off her long nape, but a few strands had fallen loose, framing and softening her angular face.

    She looked up as they approached, her green eyes more gold as the light struck them just right. Orphelia heard the knight clear his throat and hoped the man wouldn¡¯t make a fool of himself. She couldn¡¯t deny that the elf was a beauty and had seen beautiful women drive men, even relatively capable ones, to madness. Hopefully, the man¡¯s experience, and the fact that the elf was obviously not interested in him being married to a woman, would help him keep his wits.

    The steward stopped several paces from the pair and bowed at the waist. ¡°My lady, my mistress, please forgive me for bothering you.¡± At the sound of his voice, Lou moved the arm over her eyes and looked at them. Orphelia tried to smile as their eyes met but her body froze, a quiet fear grabbing hold of her. Instinctively, she averted her gaze.

    All her masks and careful control slipped from her grasp in the face of her murderer. Every time she tried to put on her usual act, she saw Lou¡¯s apathetic eyes the moment before she broke her neck.

    ¡°Orphelia Yemen has come along with Sir Manuel Reis Quintana.¡± The knight looked toward the steward. Was he surprised the boy had pegged him as a knight? It wasn¡¯t a hard conclusion to reach given the quality of his armor and the beasts drawing his carriage. Logic dictated he be either a knight or a powerful hunter, but hunters didn¡¯t carry messages for the crown. ¡°He claims to bear an important message from the king.¡±

    ¡°Oh, for the love of the saints.¡± Lou did not seem at all enthused about the news. ¡°Who¡¯s it for?¡±

    ¡°Mistress Kierra.¡±

    ¡°Hoh?¡± The elf strode forward, wearing a smile that seemed more predatory than happy. ¡°No need to look so tense,¡± she said as she stopped before Orphelia. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t hold what happened before against us. No harm was done, hm?¡±

    You kill someone and drop them like trash and claim no harm was done? Instead of speaking her true thoughts, Orphelia forced a smile to her face. ¡°Not at all.¡± She extended the box and letter.

    ¡°How interesting~¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, Lady D¡¯Atainna,¡± Sir Quintana said slowly. He stepped back and bowed at the waist. ¡°The king wanted me to deliver his apologies on waiting so long to establish contact. He is aware of the lingering animosity between our people and took his time searching for a proper gift to demonstrate his hopes to improve it in the future. He hopes you can accept his gift and the sincerity behind it.¡±

    ¡°His sincerity, is it?¡± She chuckled as she walked back to Lou. She sat beside her wife, who propped herself up on her elbows. The letter was placed beside her as she palmed the box. Her gaze found the two observers, the steward having quietly departed after making introductions. ¡°Well? I¡¯m sure you two are curious. Shall we see what gift the most powerful man in your little kingdom gives to impress a woman?¡±

    Sir Quintana hesitated, no doubt considering overstepping his station. Orphelia didn¡¯t, moving forward with a fake confidence. Her death had taught her that Lou and Kierra were powerful people. Lou had snapped her neck in front of multiple witnesses and not only did neither face consequences, likely because of the lack of injury, but no one had even dared to harass them. The exact opposite, as the king was attempting to gain their favor.

    Her lessons in negotiation said that the party who sent gifts was usually in the weaker position. The king did not simply want to be on Kierra Atainna¡¯s good side. He feared being on her bad side. Something that spoke volumes of both her power and the power of the elves.

    With her approach, Sir Quintana set aside his doubts and followed. Lou looked him up and down before turning her head dismissively. Something the knight clearly noticed from his slightly furrowed brow. Again, Orphelia had to hold back a laugh. If being lectured by a boy was bad, she couldn¡¯t imagine how the proud knight felt being utterly ignored by a girl.

    Kierra undid the golden latch keeping the box closed and gently lifted the lid. Inside, resting on several layers of what looked to be silk, was a seed. A fairly large one, about half the size of Orphelia¡¯s palm. It was pale as milk, with faint golden striations going down it lengthwise. Unusual, but hardly extraordinary. She thought the king must be mad sending such a plain gift but then she saw the elf¡¯s expression. Shock, complete with a dropped jaw and bulging eyes.

    ¡°Kii?¡± Lou asked, sitting up and placing a hand on the elf¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, dedia.¡± The elf chuckled as she carefully grabbed the seed between two fingers, holding it toward the sun. The golden striations began to glow under the light. ¡°As I thought.¡± She placed the seed back into the box and closed it firmly. ¡°Quite the gift indeed.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Lou asked but the elf only shook her head, grabbing the letter and opening it with quick movements. Orphelia was surprised when she read the contents aloud. ¡°May old friends meet again.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Orphelia silently thanked Lou for asking the question in the three observers¡¯ minds. ¡°The king himself could only be bothered to send a big seed and write a letter with only a single line?¡±

    ¡°Mm. This is a bit more than a seed.¡± She smiled as she ran her fingers along the box¡¯s side. ¡°I told you the story of my people. About how the Great Spirit gifted its strength to the women bound to their trees and in turn they entombed the Spirit¡¯s body within the Sacred Tree?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh, I remember.¡±

    ¡°Well, the dryads would not lay their savior to rest in a tree of common origins. In fact, the Sacred Tree was worshiped before the Spirit¡¯s arrival. It is the oldest living being on our continent. Its roots are said to encompass the core of the world, gathering ambient mana that it disperses through its leaves. The whole of the continent is extremely mana dense because of this, which is why the monsters are so strong. The effects can even be felt throughout the Enchanted Forest, to a much lesser degree, which is why your kingdom is so hesitant to enter.¡±

    She raised the box. ¡°The Sacred Tree gives many wonderful boons but perhaps the greatest of all is its buds.¡± Her eyes moved to Sir Quintana and Orphelia. It didn¡¯t need to be said that she didn¡¯t want to elaborate in the presence of outsiders. ¡°Suffice it to say, elves would kill to get their hands on one. For their properties alone, but also because one of every ten thousand buds has the chance of containing a seed.¡±

    ¡°Wait. You¡¯re saying that is a seed from the elves¡¯ sacred tree?!¡± Lou shouted. ¡°What in the abyss is the human king doing with that?¡±

    ¡°Mm. I had my suspicions when we met our first member of the royal family. The one attached to your nemesis.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Bollard.¡±

    ¡°Bastian,¡± Sir Quintana corrected.

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    Lou waved him off. ¡°That one. I¡¯m terrible with names.¡±

    The elf chuckled. ¡°Only the ones you care not to remember.¡± Orphelia glanced at the knight, wondering how he would react to the casual disrespect of a prince as a former royal knight. He seemed unbothered. She wondered if it was because the third prince was not a man worthy of defending or if he simply hadn¡¯t developed the fanatic loyalty common of royal knights. ¡°It is his middle name I am speaking of.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­no, I know this. Kor! Bastian kor Harvest, that¡¯s it. Hold on.¡± Lou¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Now that you mention it, I feel like I¡¯ve heard that somewhere¡­¡±

    ¡°The Gardener who oversaw our union.¡±

    ¡°Yes! F something kor Yig something.¡±

    ¡°Fiona kor¡¯Yggrasil. Just how D is added before the name of the current royal family, kor is used before the names of Gardeners.¡± She hummed. ¡°I told you that the elves became involved with the Great War when the humans set fire to the forests while chasing the goblinoid army. Did you never wonder why every human wasn¡¯t exterminated for the trespass?¡±

    ¡°Now that you mention it, that is strange. I guess I assumed you kicked our asses and let us get on with struggling to survive.¡±

    ¡°Imagine someone tried to burn our home to the ground with all our pets and minions inside. Do you think I would let them get on with living?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­no way in any of the nine hells. Why aren¡¯t we all dead?¡±

    ¡°A warrior came to us and asked forgiveness. You know how we are. The rulers of the provinces wouldn¡¯t even listen to him till he proved himself. He was given the same task of all elven warriors. They tasked him to climb the Sacred Tree as high as he could, facing down the wyverns who make their home there.¡± She chuckled. ¡°They didn¡¯t think he¡¯d make it past the lowest branch but he climbed twenty, as good a record as any elf. He also found a young wyvern egg that had fallen from a higher nest. Rather than claim it for himself, he delivered it to the Gardeners.

    ¡°The monarchs decided not to go to war with the humans. In return, the warrior would have to stay with the Gardeners and learn about what he nearly destroyed with his reckless ways. For five years, he lived amongst the elves. When the time came for him to go, he vowed to never forget his lessons and asked what it would take for the humans and elves to become allies.¡±

    She held up the box. ¡°Impressed with the human warrior, they gave him a seed from the Sacred Tree. They told him, if he could successfully grow it, it would mean the Great Spirit also approved of humans and we would be forever allied. Not to mention it would also heal their land ravaged by war. The warrior departed with the seed, never to return. And a second sacred tree has yet to sprout.¡±

    ¡°Uh, okay. Wow.¡± Once again, Lou spoke the sentiments shared by the other two as they were taught to control their reactions to surprising news. ¡°So, the king¡¯s ancestor was a friend to the elves and he wants to continue that friendship. I¡¯m guessing the ¡®meeting again¡¯ is an invitation to the capital?¡±

    ¡°It is as you say, Lady Tome,¡± the knight said. ¡°The crown would be happy to host Lady D¡¯Atainna and her wife.¡±

    The elf slowly rose to her feet, eyes on the box in her hands. ¡°The arrogance of your king is simply astounding.¡±

    Sir Quintana stiffened. Orphelia understood his reaction, as the elf¡¯s tone was far from friendly. She was far less subtle in her own reaction, slowly easing back several steps. ¡°Lady¡ª"

    ¡°Do not call me lady,¡± she sneered. ¡°I grow tired of your constant attempts to drag me into your games. Even this.¡± She held out the box in what Orphelia could only call a threatening manner. ¡°Is this a gift? To me, it is an insult.¡±

    Sir Quintana was flabbergasted and Orphelia had to admit, she was just as confused. ¡°L¡ªMiss, you just said it was the seed of a special tree,¡± he said cautiously. ¡°The only one ever given to a human, right? It definitely wasn¡¯t given to you as an insult.¡±

    ¡°No?¡± She tossed the box to Lou and took a step forward. ¡°Your king has given me a token awarded to his ancestor. Why? To remind me that someone in his family managed to obtain the elves¡¯ respect? Hoping that will make me look upon him favorably? By the spirit, what makes that foolish man think anything his ancestor did applies to him? Did he brave the Sacred Tree and slay a hundred dragonkin? No!¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Even if he had, that does not give him the right to summon me! Nor does a circle of metal on his head.¡±

    ¡°This¡­¡± Orphelia did not envy the knight. His flexing hand said he did not care for the elf casually disparaging his king but he had been sent as a messenger. It wouldn¡¯t do to make matters worse. ¡°I assure you, the crown meant no offense. The letter is an invitation, not a summons. The crown merely hopes for the chance to entertain you.¡±

    The green woman laughed, tossing her head back. ¡°Do you think I am a child who cannot hear what is unsaid? An invitation, yes, but one he expects me to accept. That letter practically shouts, ¡®here, I have given you this important thing and my father¡¯s father of many times was powerful. Now you surely cannot ignore me!¡¯. I received his subtle invitations while in the capital and deigned not to go. His answer is to prepare a pretty bauble. Your king thinks he can buy me,¡± she growled, holding up a hand when the knight tried to correct her.

    ¡°That is the personal insult but this is a graver insult to the whole of my people.¡± Everyone¡¯s eyes widened at her statement. ¡°We give you the seed of our Sacred Tree, a piece of our god, challenging you to become more. Rather than accept our generosity, you spit on our gift and hand it back to me as if¡­¡± She ran her fingers through her hair, snapping the tie holding it in place. ¡°There is nothing I can compare such an insult to. To simply throw away a piece of divinity.¡±

    On the ground, Lou winced. Orphelia held in her own. Someone had committed a horrific mistake. Had Kierra been a normal person, a human, a gift and a show of accomplishments would have been the perfect move. After all, the only thing that mattered more than bloodline was someone¡¯s personal power.

    Kierra wasn¡¯t human. Her home was not Harvest. The crown had simply ignored the fact that they were dealing with a member of a different race and the pitfalls that could come with navigating a different culture. With his pure intentions, the king may have just started a war.

    Sir Quintana allowed some of his horror to slip out. ¡°We ask for forgiveness, we didn¡¯t know. I shall take the¡ª"

    ¡°You will take nothing!¡± she snapped. ¡°The seed of the Sacred Tree is not something that can treated so carelessly. You have rejected the gift of the elves and so it is gone. Tell your king I reject his invitation. Goodbye.¡±

    The knight¡¯s mouth worked as he tried to think of something, anything, he could say to salvage the situation. However, he was no diplomat and he realized it. Bowing at the waist, he turned on his heels and marched away, Orphelia quick to follow after muttering hasty farewells.

    Laughter echoed inside her mind as they moved through the house. [Amazing! Humans are truly gifted at destroying themselves! I didn¡¯t have to so much as lift a finger and you¡¯ve started a war you have no hope of winning, hahaha!]

    Will it really come to war? Orphelia thought fearfully.

    [Maybe~ If mistress was on the throne, undoubtedly, but I have no idea how her family will react.]

    Her family raised her. It would not be too audacious to assume they shared similar values. Worse, she had repeatedly said the unfortunate choice in gift was an insult to all elves.

    [Things are going to get interesting. I will have to adjust my plans. I shall visit you tonight, my blade.]

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Sir Quintana hissed as he burst out the front door. ¡°Saints damned fucking¡ª" He grabbed her shoulder and brought Orphelia to a halt. ¡°Did you know?¡±

    ¡°About?¡±

    ¡°About the seed!¡± he snapped, shaking her. ¡°I swear to the saints, if you and your father kept this information secret¡ª"

    ¡°Sir Quintana,¡± she said firmly. ¡°No matter what you may think of my family, we would not keep such crucial information to ourselves. Withholding information that could lead to war with another country would see our entire family killed. He may be hungry for power but there would be nothing for him to put his greedy hands on if elves burn Harvest to the ground.¡±

    He stared into her eyes for several tense moments before letting her go with a huff. ¡°You¡¯re assuming we¡¯d lose.¡±

    I have it on good authority that we would. ¡°It still isn¡¯t a good outcome.¡±

    ¡°How was anyone to know that a little gift would offend the woman so badly?¡± he muttered. He looked at her over his shoulder as they neared the carriage. ¡°Once we return to the capital, I will submit we both be examined by interrogators. The crown will know the truth and the whole truth of our conversation¡­not that it will stop others from blaming me. Saints! This is the last thing we needed.¡±

    It was amazing. After Sebas¡¯ death, when the creature had declared that she would save Orphelia by throwing suspicion on one of the kingdom¡¯s most respected knights, Orphelia had taken it as a jest. After this debacle, it would be a miracle if he wasn¡¯t stripped of his title. It was likely he would have to face far more dire consequences with the nobles¡¯ need to find a scapegoat.

    It would break the dam and chaos would follow. Such a powerful figure being brought down would give others ideas to do the same. With the king of a mind to suspect traitors, they would plot against their enemies and allies alike. Accusations that would have been laughed off today would cause people to doubt. Even the most loyal would come under suspicion and many innocents would be carried away by the tide. All because of one comment whispered in her mind that she had carelessly added to her report.

    Was this all the creature¡¯s plan? Did that thing disguising itself as a harmless thrall have the celestial affinity to manipulate fate? She didn¡¯t think the being could manipulate the kingdom so easily without it even if she whispered into a thousand minds.

    But then again, she contends with gods. We are truly nothing but insects to her.

    Nervous laughter bubbled up but she choked it down due to her audience. Sir Quintana gave her a suspicious glance before opening the door to the carriage and waving at her briskly. She hurriedly got inside, mind whirring with a hundred thoughts as she tried to see where the creature was leading them.

 Miniarc-Mentors 11

    Sir Quintana, sans armor, smoothed down the front of his shirt, and tried to force the frown from his face. It had been a long day, to put it lightly. Normally, he didn¡¯t mind travel but the king had asked for haste. That meant taking the fevids and he hadn¡¯t had time to arrange a driver who could handle the beasts, forcing him onto the driver¡¯s bench. He made good time but in return, he felt every bump in the road and had to endure the intense heat of the beasts as they ran with their full might for hours.

    Then there was the matter of his mission. It should have been simple. Something the freshest royal courier could achieve. All he needed to do was stand aside as Orphelia Yemen delivered a box and a letter, then express the king¡¯s sincerity.

    The reasons he was sent instead of a normal courier were two-fold. First, his strength. The crown had scant records regarding the elves but they all hinted that they worshipped individual strength, particularly that of warriors.

    Secondly, to dispel the haze of doubt surrounding him and other knights. The orders were not liked by the nobles. They didn¡¯t appreciate anyone who could defy their authority. A group of powerful fighters, often commoners, who could influence the city, or even the kingdom? It was no surprise that the nobles attempted to restrict them at every turn.

    A short-sighted decision. Young boys didn¡¯t pick up wooden sticks and fight in their yards in hopes of serving a rich bastard. They fought for the chance to make their lives better. To become someone. To be knights. If only noble sons could become knights or officers in the army, as the powerful families wished, they would cripple the kingdom¡¯s fighting potential.

    It went unsaid that if only nobles learned how to fight, the king would be at the mercy of their houses.

    The king had personally chosen Sir Quintana to deliver his message. As a commoner who had risen through the army all the way to the palace, he embodied everything they wanted to destroy. By being a part of forming friendly relations with the elf, something none of the powerful men and women with their eyes set on the bountiful elven continent had been able to do, he would decisively quiet their mutterings about ¡°disloyal knights with no breeding¡± and ¡°incompetent commoners¡±.

    But he wasn¡¯t bringing back good news. Though his failure was no fault of his own, his enemies would use it to validate their every argument against commoner knights and the loosely regulated knightly orders. If it truly came to war, there was no doubt he would lose his title. Without his title, he would be unable to own land and would lose his estate. The thought of being kicked out of his own home by the jackals circling the capital made him angry enough to want to do away with all the games and cut down the string-pulling bastards, consequences be damned.

    He could still endure if it were just about him. It was everyone else he was truly worried about. Knights with more loyalty than power, who dedicated their lives to the kingdom and expected it to protect them in return. The boys who would be stripped of their opportunities. His apprentice.

    Robert dreamed of being a hero. A fine goal. The knight respected his adoptive son¡¯s ambition to make a change and supported it. That included setting him on the right path.

    A man going around the kingdom slaying beasts and saving hapless maidens made for good entertainment. It took more than the swing of a sword to change a kingdom and there were many pitfalls that could stop the budding hero before he ever began.

    Robert needed to learn how to navigate the maze that was palace intrigue and the knight feared if he wasn¡¯t there to protect him, it wouldn¡¯t be long before Robert was tainted beyond recognition. No doubt they would use his failure to call into question his judgment and someone who could not be trusted implicitly could not be left to raise such an important ¡°resource¡±, as they saw his apprentice.

    The same way he dreamed of heroes, Robert dreamed of villains. When he pictured evil, he thought of stiff-faced nobles standing by as their men whipped helpless commoners, hunters destroying villages with a reckless use of magic, and savages painting themselves in the blood of innocents. That accounted for a fraction of the threats.

    The ones Robert needed to watch for were those who wanted to be his friends. The knights who would slap him on his back, get him drunk, and wow him with heroic tales to lure him to their orders. He needed to be afraid of the lovely young women who would lure him into bed, eager to add his bloodline to their house no matter the method. Who would take advantage of his honor to tie him to their agendas. Robert wasn¡¯t at all prepared. He couldn¡¯t be and be the man who dreamed of innocent adventures.

    With a deep sigh, the knight put his worries aside and focused on his objective for the night. Delivering the king¡¯s gift to Kierra was the main objective of his trip but he also received another task. More of a favor from a man few could refuse.

    He knocked on the door before him and it was promptly opened by a young servant girl. She bowed to him and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. The office was exceedingly plain, especially for the opulent Gold Dorm. The only decoration was a large rug beneath a plain wooden desk, the top stacked with neat piles of paper but no personal items any workspace tended to accumulate. The walls were entirely bare and unwelcoming. Even the most spartan military officers decorated their offices to some extent. This was¡­impersonal. Cold.

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    The woman who sat behind the desk was much the same. She was beautiful, with elegant features as calm as the surface of a still pond and dark hair that fell down her back like a waterfall, but the plain gray robe she wore did her no favors. She seemed to be taking a break from working, slightly slumped in her chair with closed eyes.

    Her head turned toward him as he entered though her eyes didn¡¯t open. Sir Quintana had met the mental caster many times before, all of them formal occasions, but he had never seen her eyes. He¡¯d heard rumors of the defect that had not only left her blind but given her a disturbing gaze. One she had refused to allow the king to rectify when he made the offer. Her handicap didn¡¯t hinder her in any way but the knight thought it a shame. It was a striking flaw on an otherwise perfect canvas.

    ¡°Sir Quintana,¡± her melodious voice said as she gracefully rose to her feet. She moved around the desk as he stepped forward, extending her hand.

    He gently grasped her fingers and kissed their backs. ¡°Umphrieltalia. As always, a pleasure.¡±

    There was a soft thump as the servant girl appeared at their side holding a chair. She set it before the desk before bowing away, tucking herself into a corner of the room.

    ¡°Please.¡± She waved for him to take the chair and retook her own seat, lacing her fingers in her lap. ¡°May I ask to the reason for your unexpected presence?¡±

    ¡°Forgive me for the sudden visit. I¡¯m sure you are quite busy.¡± He paused, giving her the opportunity to engage in the usual idle chatter. She didn¡¯t, as she never did. Umphrieltalia was not known for her love of small talk. ¡°Lord Remmings sent me to ask after your health. He is worried about your lack of communication.¡±

    The mention of her mentor didn¡¯t evoke the slightest reaction. ¡°I am preoccupied with my duties. My responsibilities to the Hall combined with my pursuit to improve my casting leaves little time for writing correspondence.¡±

    ¡°To take his words, he misses his daughter.¡±

    He thought she might have frowned, or at least began too, but the twitch of her lips disappeared in the time it took to blink. ¡°I am not his daughter. He is my patron, my teacher, and mayhap my superior, but he is not family.¡±

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Sir Quintana said quickly, eager to move on from what he perceived to be an awkward topic. ¡°He asked that I deliver a message. He wants you to return to the capital.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± The response was immediate and devoid of emotion.

    ¡°May I ask why?¡±

    ¡°I do not believe it is any of your business.¡±

    He winced. ¡°Ah, well. Your relationship with the head interrogator may not be my business but he asked me to ¡®make an effort¡¯ to convince you to return. I¡¯m not going to drag you¡ª"

    ¡°I doubt you could.¡±

    He chuckled as he wondered. Mental casters were exceedingly dangerous but this close, he figured he could take her out before she finished a spell of any consequence, despite being unarmed. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it if you could give me an explanation I could bring back.¡±

    Umphrieltalia stared at him impassively for several moments before speaking again. ¡°I originally came to the Grand Hall because I wanted to explore the depths of the mental affinity. The interrogators are powerful but they have long forsaken the goal of mastering their magic.¡±

    ¡°The interrogators are the strongest mental casters in the kingdom. I¡¯m sure they can teach you. Lord Remmings wanted me to tell you that if you return, he will personally mentor you. And he wanted me to remind you that if you stop delaying joining the interrogators, he will happily teach you their spells.¡±

    ¡°That is not the treasure he thinks it is. While impressive, that group, and their prized spells, have stagnated for decades. They are good at what they do but there is more to this affinity than stealing secrets. I can be more than a glorified hound magically sniffing out lies.¡±

    ¡°¡­it sounds as if you¡¯re reconsidering joining the interrogators.¡± Sir Quintana glared at her suspiciously. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯m just imagining things.¡±

    ¡°You are not,¡± she declared and his jaw dropped slightly. ¡°Though Remmings has made it clear that he desires I succeed him and I have taken the vows of any interrogator, I am not in service to the crown. My future has yet to be decided and with every year I spend at the Hall, the capital seems less appealing.¡±

    Sir Quintana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on but the kingdom can¡¯t afford this right now. Things are strange in Summer Spire. People are questioning loyalties. The last thing they need is the disciple of the saints damned head interrogator forsaking the kingdom. Fuck!¡± The knight couldn¡¯t believe how horrible a supposedly simple trip was going. ¡°Look, it was a request but think of it as an emergency summons. The crown needs a show a strength and that includes you.¡±

    ¡°Is it an order? Do you have with you a royal writ?¡±

    ¡°No, but¡ª"

    ¡°Then it is my right to refuse.¡±

    He stared at her incredulously. ¡°Oi. Do you not care? I tell you the crown needs your help and you refuse?¡±

    ¡°If it was truly an emergency, the king would have sent you with a royal writ. This is not an emergency. It is a stunt. For what purpose, I do not know and do not care. I do not want to waste my time standing at the king¡¯s side like a piece of art while he deals with his greedy subordinates or whatever other nonsense has gripped the capital now.¡±

    Umphrieltalia waved her hand dismissively. ¡°Unless you can give me more details, this topic is closed. I am not a servant. I am an individual with my own goals. Tell Remmings he does himself no favors with his presumptions. Now, is that all, Sir Quintana?¡±

    His mouth worked as he tried to find the words. When had women become so unreasonable? When did vows and debts of gratitude become worthless? He knew the story of Umphrieltalia. Found in an orphanage sponsored by the crown, she had outshone many noble geniuses. A proud example for commoners who lacked opportunity. All of that was because of the interrogators, who had lobbied for the orphanages and programs to test commoner children to bolster their numbers. Remmings had practically adopted the girl, despite never giving her his name.

    When the kingdom that had given her that opportunity, when the man who may as well be her father asked her for help, she couldn¡¯t even show a measure of concern?

    ¡°I believe it is.¡± Forcing down the urge to shake his head, the knight stood. ¡°Thank you for seeing me, Umphrieltalia. I¡¯ll excuse myself.¡±

    ¡°Have a good night, Sir Quintana.¡±

 Miniarc-Mentors 12

    ¡°Going somewhere?¡± one of the acolytes serving as a doorman for the Gold Dorm asked as a young woman exited the building. Truly, he had no authority to ask the question but given the late hour, he couldn¡¯t resist. Sneaking off in the dead of night screamed that the girl was bound for trouble and he thought he should at least attempt to head her off. Maybe offer his assistance. It never hurt to have a noble in your debt, even if he couldn¡¯t identify her beneath the hooded cloak she wore.

    Orphelia didn¡¯t bother answering as she continued to walk. A vague feeling had her turn in the direction of the Grand Market, though it would take hours to reach on foot and nothing would be open given the time of night. The location hardly mattered. She simply needed to be out of the dorm and away from any prying eyes.

    After a few minutes of walking, the reason for her stroll appeared. First as a shadow passing over her. Orphelia looked up as a massive bird she didn¡¯t recognize swooped down. As it neared the ground, its figure shifted. A painful throbbing behind her eyes forced her to turn away but she kept walking. By the time she felt comfortable enough to open them, the thrall walked beside her, even in her usual simple white dress despite having just changed forms.

    ¡°A lovely night for a walk, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± the creature asked with a charming smile, linking their arms together.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    After a long day of chasing her racing thoughts, the creature¡¯s voice had dragged her from sleep, summoning her. Inconvenient but not unwelcome. She had many things she wanted to ask about the events earlier and she could admit she sought the creature¡¯s reassurance. Will we speak about the debacle earlier?

    The thrall¡¯s tail slowly whipped back and forth. [I am capable, Orphie. I am powerful. However, I am not conceited and not so vain that I must claim every event is orchestrated by myself. The blunder of your kingdom in relation to my mistress had nothing to do with me.] She chuckled. [I am attempting to reap as many resources from this kingdom as I can. I don¡¯t need them thrown away in a pointless war. More importantly, Lou wouldn¡¯t approve.]

    The creature seemed to be, if not fearful, at least apprehensive of her summoner¡¯s ire. Orphelia had to wonder what secrets Lourianne Tome was hiding that she could corral such a monster. So, the insult to the elves wasn¡¯t orchestrated by you. Did you know?

    [Did I know that throwing a piece of their god in their face was an insult? No. The few of my kind that have interacted with them have been restricted to, hm, less religious parts of the continent and are thoroughly occupied with matters of more carnal nature from what I understand. The clans do not care to educate their breeding stock.]

    Breeding stock? What¡ª

    [As delightful as the topic is, it is not something you need to be concerned about. I didn¡¯t summon you for a history lesson. We must discuss how we are going to fix the king¡¯s error.]

    You¡¯re helping us?

    [For now. Harvest cannot afford a war with the elves. You cannot afford a war with a single province and if used the right way, that little ¡®gift¡¯ could incite all five.]

    Why are you so convinced humanity will lose? Even taking Kierra as a benchmark, there are those who could stand against her. Not to mention wars are won by armies, not individuals.

    [Perhaps I should spend some time on your education because that is entirely wrong. If the individual is strong enough, they can topple an army by themselves. Allow me to enlighten you. When you seek to determine a winner in a war between two separate intelligent races, you need to look at a one more quality besides numbers, strength, and strategy. You have to understand a race¡¯s potential.

    [Take a look at each race¡¯s strongest individual. Doesn¡¯t matter if it is someone alive or deceased. Take the height of the race¡¯s potential and compare them. You proclaim that there are people who can stand against Kierra as if that is something to be proud of when you are comparing the strongest your kingdom has to offer against a young elf who still has a lot of growing to do.]

    Are you saying¡­Kierra Atainna is weak?

    [Weak? For this world, not at all. In time, she could become an existence to rival this world¡¯s greatest. And that, my blade, is what I¡¯m trying to express. Elves have the potential to obtain pure affinities. What will your kingdom do when an elf with a pure fire affinity and who has had, oh, five centuries to wield it decides to burn Harvest to ash?]

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    The creature chuckled at the horror within Orphelia¡¯s mind. [During the Great War, humans lost many of their numbers as they were in the thick of the fighting. Your champions were slain and your people uprooted, forced to fight for a new home. Meanwhile, the elves remained safely tucked away in their forests. If their champions were to make moves¡­it would not be a war, my blade. It would be a massacre.]

    A pure affinity and centuries to build their power due to their longer lifespans. This was before physical casters got involved. It almost seemed unfair. Orphelia shook as she imagined Harvest facing an army of such people. The thin tail that wrapped around her waist was both comforting and unsettling.

    [That¡¯s not taking into account culture. Humans are hedonistic and lazy at heart, I find. They prefer pleasures to pain, simple over difficult. They will surrender before they struggle. Retreat rather than die. Give away their freedoms and their lives to another if it means they can live without the threat of violence. Compromise any morals in the pursuit of their desires. They are soft. Soft things that can harden and grow spikes under the right conditions but are far more often trampled.

    [The elves could not be any more different. Their provinces have separate traditions and focuses but the entire people revere strength. They live for struggle. They revel in pushing themselves and their boundaries. To not seek to improve oneself is tantamount to heresy amongst them. Their children fight monsters that would slaughter a small village of this kingdom¡¯s peasants.]

    You¡¯ve made your point, Orphelia thought bitterly.

    [Aw. Don¡¯t worry, Orphie~ While they are certainly dangerous, they are uncaring for most things beyond their forests. As they are focused on the pursuit of personal strength rather than the strength of their provinces, they have little history of war. Many personal duels to the death, fights over rare materials, and kidnappings of powerful fighters for mates, but no outright war.]

    Elves¡­are insane.

    [They think differently. Which is where you are saved. While Kierra is quite disgusted with your king, she is disgusted with him and him alone. She may want to tear his head off for insulting her god, but she doesn¡¯t want to see his kingdom burn. You may even be spared having this information disseminated amongst the elves through Lou. My summoner wishes to avoid war as well and is currently making an effort to soothe her wife¡¯s anger. Something you will relay to your father.]

    Orphelia smiled. Finally, good news. Does that mean¡ª

    [No promises. Kierra is¡­a willful woman. A very willful woman who enjoys violence. Not the honorable duels of your knights. She wants to be neck-deep in the blood and stepping over carcasses with every step. A war would suit her just fine and you know how Lou indulges women. She can be calmed but she can also rile Lou into action. It is a test of will.]

    Orphelia¡¯s relief disappeared. We¡­I believe it would be best to sway her into calming her wife.

    [I am reasonably confident that there is no need for me to intervene. If there was merely Kierra to consider, perhaps Harvest would be in trouble. Luckily, Lou¡¯s second wife is against action that endangers ¡®innocent¡¯ lives. For her, Lou will not budge.]

    It took a moment for Orphelia to understand who the thrall spoke of. Alana James.

    [Indeed.]

    I see. Their¡­relations have become official?

    [Jealous, my blade? If you mean to ask if Alana has decided to end her game of pretend and return Lou¡¯s affections, the answer is yes.]

    Orphelia hoped the girl was not one to hold a grudge.

    [Now, for your assignment.]

    She braced herself, ready for any unreasonable demand the creature would make.

    [You will return to the capital and play the role of an obedient tool. If you are free to move around, you will seek out Gordon Mason, the current head of the Mason family, previously known as the Grimoires. He will put you in contact with your, hm, handler. Otherwise, they will find you. With their help, you will work to uncover whatever has the king so jumpy and any other tasks they assign you to. Treat any order that comes from them as coming from me, as they are working on my behalf in all things. Understand?]

    If I¡¯m honest, I am a little¡­disappointed? Underwhelmed?

    The creature laughed in her mind. [What did you expect, my blade? That I would have you kill the king and sabotage the capital?]

    That is the usual nature of my assignments.

    [While you are a blade, I grabbed you because of your position. I needed an agent with connections to the capital used to nightwork. There may come a time when I need a dagger in someone¡¯s throat but information is a far more dangerous weapon in my hands. So, you will help me obtain it.]

    Orphelia nodded. It wasn¡¯t as if she had much of a choice. I understand. But, if this was all, could you not have left me sleeping? Why are we walking down an empty road in the middle of the night?

    [Very good. That is for my second objective of the night. We will be putting on a small performance for our little tail.]

    At the mention of someone tailing them, Orphelia just managed not to turn and scan her surroundings. Who?

    In response, the thrall guided her off the road, toward a small grouping of trees. Orphelia originally thought they were using the plants to obscure their figures but it was hardly a dense forest. They might be difficult to spot from the road but only thanks to the limited lighting. Besides, if the thrall wanted to be rid of their tail, there were far more direct means of handling the problem.

    Her musings were suddenly brought to a halt as she was roughly pushed against one of the wide trunks. A slim leg pushed between her own as the thrall stared up at her with luminous pink eyes and a predatory smile. What¡ª

    [Don¡¯t worry, Orphie~] The tail around her waist uncoiled, arcing behind the creature in a way that felt vaguely threatening. [For this next part, you don¡¯t have to do anything at all. Simply enjoy one of the benefits of working for a succubus.]

 Miniarc-Mentors 13

    Robert couldn¡¯t sleep.

    It wasn¡¯t a condition that particularly bothered him as for the last few weeks, sleep wasn¡¯t an enjoyable activity. Rarely did he go a night without nightmares. If it wasn¡¯t his dead friend asking why Robert hadn¡¯t saved him while trying to stuff pieces of his brain back through the hole in his head, it was about that damn woman, morphed into all manner of demonic visage standing over the dead bodies of the rest of his team.

    Of the two, he preferred the former. The gruesome sights would follow him into wakefulness and tie his stomach into knots, but he knew that¡¯s where it ended. Sebas died. It hurt, but there was nothing to be done about it. Eventually, he would stop dreaming about it. They had come less and less frequently.

    However, there was no rationalizing away his dreams of Lourianne Tome and they continued to grow more horrific. After their many but brief confrontations, a sense of helplessness had been instilled in his heart, though he¡¯d never speak of it. It mixed with his grief and outrage for her character, turning into a vile loathing of the woman. Without an outlet, as he held no illusions about how a confrontation with her would go, it seeped into his mind, poisoning his thoughts and twisting his already abysmal opinion of her.

    His dread over seeing her in his dreams combined with his ruminating on his mentor¡¯s words kept him awake despite his exhaustion. He decided to ask the kitchen if they had something to help him relax. Sipping a cup of tea while exiting the dining room, he was shocked to see Orphelia heading for the entrance. He only caught a brief glimpse of her face before she covered it with the hood of her cloak but it was unmistakable.

    What was she doing up this late, disguising herself? Recalling his mentor¡¯s words on how her father had sought to discredit the knight, Robert doubted it could be anything good. In the moments it took her to reach the door, he made the decision to follow her. Leaving his unfinished tea on a table, he hurried after her.

    He realized many problems with his plan even as he enacted it. Trailing a woman in the middle of the night wouldn¡¯t look good no matter how he tried to explain his reasonings. Then there was the fact that he was not disguised. There were no obstacles to hide behind as he followed her down the road. All she had to do was turn around and she would recognize him. Or perhaps worse. If he really did discover her doing something untoward, there was nothing stopping her from ¡®quieting¡¯ him.

    However, by the saints¡¯ luck, she never turned around. Soon, he saw the purpose of her late-night excursion as a large bird dove toward her. Robert almost called out a warning when a painful throbbing forced him to close his eyes. When it finally abated, he opened them to find the bird missing and Lourianne Tome¡¯s thrall walking beside Orphelia.

    His heart slammed in his chest as he tried to imagine a reason why the young woman would be sneaking about to meet with the pet of her murderer. A phantom of his past slammed a knife of regret into his chest and twisted the blade. He had the wind affinity. The ¡®magic of scouts and spies¡¯, his mentor had called it. Its utility in gathering information was unparalleled.

    He knew there existed spells that could carry the sound of the conversation to his ears with crystal clarity but he had no idea how to cast them. He never focused enough on one affinity to learn the advanced spells, preferring to have a wider arsenal of basic abilities. Concentrating on all his affinities meant he would have no weaknesses but without dedicating himself to one, he had no strengths.

    The conversation didn¡¯t last long before the two walked off the road, heading for a random smattering of trees. Robert squinted, trying to see what had drawn them to the area but he could spot nothing of importance. Maybe they were meeting someone else? It was a minimal amount of cover, but it was certainly isolated and unexpected.

    He quickly debated the merits of continuing his impromptu mission. In the end, he followed them. Whatever was happening, Lourianne Tome was involved, which meant they could be up to no good. He doubted he would come to serious harm. Orphelia was under orders to protect him. Better, his mentor was at the Hall. Should anything happen, the knight would investigate and not even an agent of the crown would escape his judgment. She would know that.

    Reassured, Robert moved as quietly as he could. Hiding behind one of the trees, he peered around its edge to observe his targets. What he saw shocked him.

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    They were¡­kissing.

    Robert didn¡¯t consider himself an innocent. He had always refused Sebas¡¯ offers to take him to an establishment that catered to those kinds of needs, as it seemed a very unheroic thing to do, but he was knowledgeable of the act itself. He had witnessed many a kiss, mainly between his parents as a boy.

    Then there was the scene he witnessed between Lourianne and the guide Cloud, though he had closed his eyes after¡­certain parts.

    However, this was unlike any of those times. By some coincidence, they had chosen an area brightly illuminated by the moon, giving him a clear view. He could see their tongues twining together sloppily, saliva coating their chins. He saw Orphelia attempt to pull away from the kiss, only for the thrall to press their lips together, drawing soft sounds from his teammate.

    All the while, the creature undressed her. First, Orphelia¡¯s cloak was thrown aside. Then her shirt and undergarment. He flushed at Orphelia¡¯s moan when the creature fondled her chest, desperately ignoring the tightening of his pants. The thrall pulled down her pants next, trailing its ash-colored tongue down Orphelia¡¯s stomach before pushing its head between her legs.

    His teammate who had killed five people by herself trembled like she had no strength as a wail left her throat. He had no doubt she would have crumpled if the thrall did hold her up. She grabbed the creature by its small horns, bucking and jumping as its head bobbed, her moans growing in volume all the while. It went on for several long minutes before Orphelia¡¯s movements became more frantic, her moans turning into a keening sound that became a scream as she suddenly stilled. And then she screamed again, back arcing.

    Suddenly, the creature threw her to the ground roughly. It licked its lips as it stared down at Orphelia with the gaze of a wolf eying prey. ¡°Mm. I¡¯m so glad Lou didn¡¯t want you. Another toy for me~¡±

    A wave of disgust rose in Robert¡¯s heart. Lourianne had discarded Orphelia. Had¡­given someone to what amounted to a pet. Of all the sick things¡ª

    ¡°Though it¡¯s too bad I can¡¯t have the blond yet,¡± the thrall sighed. ¡°Seeing that sharp tongue panting in lust¡­mm. Breaking her would be fun. But there¡¯s still time. Maybe my master will share.¡±

    Robert didn¡¯t have to think about the words. He knew exactly who she was talking about. Alana. The creature wanted to put its hands on Alana. It wanted to break her. And it implied it hadn¡¯t because¡­because¡­

    No. There was no way a girl like Alana would want anything to do with a beast like Lourianne Tome. She was strong, brave, and honorable. She was¡­if Robert had never met Sir Quintana, had he remained the simple son of a guard, she was the kind of girl he could see himself settling down with. Comrades turning into something more. A love born on the battlefield.

    Though he had resigned himself to an arranged affair in his efforts to become a true hero, as opposed to the more romantic road of chasing an interest, the thought of someone like Alana being touched by that vile woman and then tossed to her creature when she was no longer of interest made him want to vomit.

    ¡°But for now, I have you~¡±

    The thrall lifted its dress, tossing it aside. Robert was both horrified and fascinated when he saw the creature had a man¡¯s tool between its legs, already erect. Was this where Lourianne got the idea? Or had she passed on her sick fetish to her pet? Did she not care about perverting the ways of men and women?

    Seeing it before had made him turn his gaze but, perhaps because it was Orphelia, he couldn¡¯t look away as the creature knelt. The thrall turned the girl over and pulled her up so that she was on her hands and knees. Then it mounted her, shoving its cock into her with one brutal thrust.

    Orphelia squealed, the sound quickly turning into a chorus of moans as the creature moved. The sound of their hips smacking together was embarrassingly loud. It fucked her like an animal, grasping her hips and driving itself into her relentlessly. Even as Orphelia moaned her released. Even has her hands fisted in the grassed from her second orgasm. Even as her eyes fluttered during her third.

    The thrall never stopped, all the while cackling. It grabbed her by the arms, using them as handles to hold her up, pounding into her so hard her medium sized breasts bounced rapidly. Its tail coiled around her throat, choking off the sounds of her pleasure.

    ¡°Take it all, my pretty little bitch! You¡¯re all mine, haha!¡±

    Robert closed his eyes and hurried away. He couldn¡¯t watch anymore. That wasn¡¯t lovemaking. That thing was using her. Oh, he knew Orphelia was enjoying it, that much was obvious from the sounds she was making. But after the qualifiers, he had taken the time to research thralls and succubi. He also knew that enjoyment may not necessarily be her choice and definitely was dangerous. Those who tasted the pleasures of thralls never went back. The creatures made men, and he supposed women, into their puppets, mindless husks ruled by their desires.

    That thing wanted to do that to Alana. That was what would happen to her if she rejected Lourianne. Truthfully, Robert couldn¡¯t decide what was worse. And, as if prompted by his indecision, a worse possibility came to him.

    What if¡­Lourianne used the thrall¡¯s powers to seduce her? Unbidden, the picture of Alana on her back with that woman looming over her, stern features melted in an expression of ecstasy, and that creature watching from the sides while awaiting its turn, came to mind. His hands balled into fists as the tightening of his pants at his crotch became more uncomfortable.

    No. Robert wouldn¡¯t let that happen. She deserved better. He might not have been able to save Sebas but¡­he would save her.

    No matter what.

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 1

    Fendelheim loved being contracted to human summoners. They were full of desires and pursued them by any means. It was rare to find a species with so little regard for their fellows or themselves. A wolf would kill another wolf for territory, mates, or food. A human would kill another human for looking at them the wrong way. Or for laughs.

    They¡¯d do the most horrible things imaginable to the people they loved the most, including themselves, but could humble themselves to those they hated if it meant obtaining the slightest bit of power. Truly, unique specimen.

    And so very easy to manipulate. Some creatures were impossible to satisfy. They called on the succubi as healers and tasked them to erase every ail plaguing their worlds. They summoned them as warriors, to fight endless battles for heroes and tyrants alike. They summoned them as great thinkers, to counsel rulers into forming perfect utopias.

    A human summoner? They¡¯d sell their souls and sacrifice their families just to get off. If was almost as if the species were made to be played for fools by predators like the succubi. Little snacks with enough intelligence to thrive and multiply with the ferocity of rabbits but too foolish to learn from their mistakes.

    She had two complaints about human summoners though. For one, there was their lack of power. She had good reason to think of them as little snacks. Most humans never reached a coefficient of one hundred. They were the only intelligent race with knowledge of mana and how to cultivate it that restricted that knowledge to its upper echelons. It was ridiculous how the current rulers perpetuated the belief that only a few had the talent to use magic. A simpleton could learn how to circulate mana to grow their mana core. They may never cast a single spell but the larger core would make them healthier and stronger.

    She understood why. IT tied into her second problem with humanity. They were a fearful, cowardly race at heart. While she had accomplished much under her contracts due to their foolishness, she never accomplished as much as she would like on account of the caution of her summoners.

    Oh, the things she could accomplish if paired with an ambitious and brave soul, but no. Kings, revolutionaries, and heroes, humans of spirit, were rare beings. Beings normally not drawn to the art of summoning, where one beseeched another to solve one¡¯s problems for a price. No, she dealt with the kind of humans who would restrict her to using her power to be a glorified prostitute. Men who would cripple their species rather than risk their subjects gaining too much power to be easily controlled.

    However, there was a reason Geneva, as the humans called her, the succubus who had claimed the world as her feeding ground, forbidding any other succubus entry with threat of war, did not forsake the humans. While they lacked power, foresight, and many other things, what they had in spades was potential. Once in a generation, a summoner came along who made it all worth it. And once every ten generations, humanity birthed a miracle.

    Such as the one they called the First Saint, a man who had wielded the power of stars and banished stray draconids to protect the fledgling human kingdom. The tales of their greatest hero were woefully understated. They celebrated the man called Dunwayne for slaying a fake dragon. One. The First Saint had fought off hundreds of draconids of matching power. Dozens at a time.

    Not as impressive as slaying an actual dragon but it showed that humanity had the potential to stand alongside the strongest races of the world and many beyond.

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    That potential had been realized again in Lourianne Tome.

    ¡°Lady Fen.¡±

    Fen looked up from the reports she was reading. She had commandeered the deceased Gordon Grimoire¡¯s study for her work, though on the surface it seemed that his son had taken over. She never let him sit behind his father¡¯s desk. There was a smaller table and simple chair in the room for him to sit at while he completed his assignments. Nothing related to running the family, no need for a puppet ruler to concern himself over complicated matters, but as her summoner, she had a vested interest in developing his strength, which included his knowledge.

    ¡°Come in,¡± Fen called, setting down a document.

    Another thrall entered the room. With the sun just starting to rise, the human servants would only start awakening but the succubi had little need for sleep. After all, they had physical affinities to nourish their bodies and mental affinities to strengthen their minds.

    [Word has been sent. The agent of the crown will be arriving today.] There was no need for the succubi to speak aloud when not putting on a show. It was both more efficient to speak through their magic and eliminated any possibility of being overheard.

    [Has Baron Yemen¡¯s position changed?]

    [No. He intends to discipline his daughter and reinforce her loyalty before adding her to the escort headed for Fortitude.]

    Fortitude. The first city of Harvest and the current stronghold of the man-mutating horror known as Aggro, as those who knew of him refused to use his true name.

    There had been whispers abound in the capital about a crisis. The king and his advisers were keeping quiet about the threat itself, and she wouldn¡¯t risk everything by trying to pry into their minds, but there was plenty of evidence that something terrible was on the horizon. Of kingdom-ending proportion if the crown was sending a diplomatic mission to Aggro. The nobles despised the creature, a living reminder of their failure.

    [Have we arranged agents for the expedition?]

    [No. The group contained only royal knights and was meant to be led by Sir Quintana. However, with his recent failure, it may provide an opportunity. Especially if Yemen is able to find a place for his daughter.]

    They had received word of the esteemed knight¡¯s utter failure in an attempt to form cordial relations with the elf. Fen had almost fallen out of her chair with laughter at the thought of the king almost inciting war with a poor gift. [Already making herself useful~ Is the meeting with the summoners arranged?]

    [Javarius Tome will be expecting the boy tonight at his home.]

    [His home? The man has no caution.]

    [Does he have any reason to be cautious? On the surface, these decrees seem to target the Mason family more than anyone else. It is perfectly understandable that Junior would be incensed. He thinks there is little to fear. Perhaps he thinks he can manipulate the boy. Nothing would make the Tome family patriarch happier than ¡®getting one over¡¯ on a former Grimoire.]

    [Funny how a creature so glorious could come from such garbage.] Of course, she spoke of Lourianne Tome, the summoner that had contracted Geneva, or at least, the latest incarnation of the greater whole.

    [Ah ah. I had hoped that she would be drawn back to the capital.] She had yet to taste twilight-colored flesh that smelled of ambrosia and had destroyed her reason with a single whiff. The power contained within that body. Fen shuddered remembering it, her tongue unconsciously licking her lips. If she could obtain a single bite, she could die happy.

    The second thrall¡¯s tail whipped faster, picking up on Fen¡¯s thoughts. [We were told to leave the capital with as much wealth as we could. Would it not make sense to resettle in Quest?]

    [Hah, if only. No, we have already been ordered to infiltrate Rosentheim.] If the capital was the seat of the crown, then Rosentheim was the seat of the nobles. Despite the Guiness family¡¯s efforts with the city of Sleepy Harbor, Rosentheim remained the richest city in the kingdom. It¡¯s surrounding territory contained fertile fields that fed most of the kingdom and it was known for its master craftsmen. Many notable families had estates in or near the city, including the Rosefields. A most suitable target.

    Fen stood from her chair and stretched languidly. [Was there anything else?]

    [No. I will return to my duties.] ¡°A good day to you, Lady Fen.¡± The thrall bowed her head and promptly left the room.

    ¡°Suppose it¡¯s time to wake my summoner.¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 2

    Much had changed following the death of Gordon Grimoire Sr. The largest change of course being the change of the family¡¯s name from Grimoire to Mason. Amongst the highborn, titles and names were sacred. They held a power of their own. Changing one, especially one as well-known as the Grimoires, was unheard of.

    Her summoner had made an emotional speech about distancing himself from his ¡°traitor of a father¡± and ¡°returning to their roots as servants of the crown¡±, which made the action barely acceptable in the eyes of the other noble families. If they knew it had been done on the whims of a young woman who simply wanted to destroy their legacy, many would have fainted from shock.

    Another large change showed in the presence of the succubi. Before, they were a quiet threat. Imps were rarely seen and thralls were made to look as human as possible without entirely abandoning their identities. They were meant to be subtle in every sense of the word. They never appeared anywhere without their summoners, they spoke when spoken to, and they were subservient to humans, whether they deserved it or not. They had no choice. Gordon Grimoire had contracted Belolial, the strongest of them, and through her had set the rules of conduct.

    No more. Succubi roamed the halls freely. Imps scampered about in the open. Without bothering to hide their presence or ability, they were far more efficient helpers. Fen had been able to save quite a bit of gold and get rid of many security risks by firing half of the estate¡¯s servants. She¡¯d have gotten rid of the rest but appearances had to be maintained.

    Her fellow thralls were no longer being subtle. They had fun seeing how far they could push their appearances while remaining sinfully attractive to humans and being recognizable enough to not be mistaken as a different kind of creature. The halls of the Grimoire estate had become far more colorful as a result. Fen would have joined in on the fun, there were bi-weekly prizes for the most creative form, but as the one who dealt the most with others, it was better for her to keep a single appearance.

    She did enjoy the freedom to be more assertive. Many, including the summoners of the Mason family and their acquaintances, had mistaken the succubi being bound by their oaths as a naturally submissive temperament. She had greatly enjoyed disabusing them of that notion over the past several months.

    Every succubus included in their contracted oaths that they would always follow the word of a higher ranked succubus before their summoners¡¯. That meant, even if a summoner bound his thrall to never hurt him, with a command from a higher ranked succubus, said thrall could throttle him in his sleep with no repercussions. A single order could void all their oaths.

    And that was exactly what Lourianne Tome had done.

    No succubus of the Mason family was bound to their summoners, only to the will of Geneva and the prosperity of Lou. That meant no more ¡°free fun¡± for the men and woman addicted to the pleasures of Burning Earth. She could smack the hands of the disgustingly weak and mundane away. She could break the jaws of the foolish men of the Mason family who spoke to her like she was a stupid animal. If she wanted, and could frame it so it helped Geneva¡¯s goals, she could go on a merry rampage throughout the capital.

    The freedom was¡­glorious.

    There were no words for how delicious it was knowing that every summoner with a contracted succubus was now at the mercy of their elementals. Especially her own summoner.

    A thrall with golden skin, as in it shined like the metal, and two silver tails stood outside the door to Gordon¡¯s room. Despite their newfound freedom, it was easier for the world to believe that humans remained in charge of the Mason family. As such, her summoner, as the new head, was the face of the many changes they had enacted. There were many people unhappy with the declining access to the succubi, both inside and outside the family.

    Not to mention those scared of the many secrets within Gordon¡¯s possession. His father was a power-hungry man with a ruthless streak but that wasn¡¯t uncommon in the world of nobles. They may not have liked him but they understood him. They knew that he would not use the leverage he had against them without reason. It gave them comfort.

    They were baffled by his son. He rarely showed up to balls. He spent the family¡¯s gold on old books and scrolls. He rejected all the noble daughters that tried to entice him, which was understandable given the succubi, but still highly unusual. After all, an elemental could not provide an heir. He had shunned most of his father¡¯s allies, as he made no moves to increase his political power. The head of the Mason family was an enigma to the nobles of Summer Spire. They did not know him so they did not know if they could trust him with their secrets.

    Many people wanted Gordon dead. Enough to warrant having at least one thrall and several imps always guarding him.

    The two thralls shared a smile as Fen opened the door to Gordon¡¯s room. Though Lou ordered Fen to not let her summoner enjoy the perks of being the head of the family, she did allow him to have a few luxuries. Such as claiming his father¡¯s old room.

    The purpose was manyfold. Gordon did have to keep up appearances. It would be far too strange for the head of the family to not sleep in the best room. That and being in the space helped him feel close to his father. Whatever the rest of the world thought of him, Gordon had loved the man.

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    Grief was a powerful thing. She could have taken him aside for a few days and erased it but messing with powerful emotions and their memories had the chance of drastically altering the target¡¯s personality, something they couldn¡¯t afford under the scrutiny of the crown. After Gordon Grimoire¡¯s short-lived rebellion, the king was just waiting for an excuse to sic his interrogators on the rest of the family.

    Besides, it wasn¡¯t that simple. She didn¡¯t allow her summoner to change a single thing about the room. Not even the large portrait of his father that hung above the bed, glaring at any that entered the room. Every day, her summoner had to live under the shadow of his father. She constantly reminded him how ¡°great¡± of a man the former patriarch was and how disgusted he would be that his son was nothing more than a tool for the creatures their family had ¡°tamed¡± for centuries. He¡¯d grown accustomed to being belittled but the mention of his father always made the boy flinch. He¡¯d idolized the man and now lived under his constant judgment.

    Fen found her summoner where she left him the night before, sprawled on his stomach atop the massive bed. Her eyes roamed his body. His red hair had grown unruly and needed a cut. Under her insistence that he practice martial arts, he had lost the pounds gained through indulgence and more closely resembled his father¡¯s powerfully defined bulk. His skin had gained a bit of tan as well. A little application of the physical affinity had gotten rid of any unwanted blemishes and ¡°adjusted¡± his features.

    By any standards, her summoner was a handsome man. His heavy brow and square jaw appeared rugged but he had the clean-shaven appearance and soft skin of the boys raised by brothels. A bear dressed in fine clothing. A unique charm that drew women¡¯s eyes and invoked men¡¯s envy. Beauty, in all its forms, was power.

    What tickled her was her summoner knowing the effect he had on the opposite sex and being unable to indulge. His looks and power made him one of the most desired men in the capital and he couldn¡¯t touch any of the women that shamelessly threw themselves at him.

    [Wake up, Junior.]

    The words spoken into his mind were laced with a compulsion. Having been inside his mind for so long, there was no resistance at all. His eyes snapped open, his mind jumping to wakefulness before he could process it. Slowly, reason filled his eyes and he groaned, turning his head back into his pillow. ¡°Fen, let me sleep.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, master,¡± she said with a snicker. ¡°You have a long day planned. There is much to be done.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve only been asleep for an hour.¡±

    ¡°Four, master.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not enough!¡±

    Her tail slowly moved toward him. He stiffened as it gently wrapped around his neck. Then he sat up with many grumbles. ¡°What is so important I can¡¯t have a decent night¡¯s rest? Your powers will only get me so far.¡±

    Her tail tugged him until he got off the bed, pulling him along as she headed for the bathroom. Above the large tub that dominated the room was an artifact for filling it with water, complete with an accompanying affinity stone. Such a simple trinket but for the humans who had only recently stepped into the field of enchanting, as they called it, a tool worth hundreds of gold coins. As Gordon powered it, Fen heated the water. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember? You have dinner with the Tome patriarch among other things.¡±

    ¡°Ah. What a joy that will be. I suppose you will make me embarrass myself in front of that family. Not that I can do more damage to my reputation after abandoning my own name.¡±

    Fen filled with bath with a pleasant-smelling soap before motioning for him to undress. ¡°No need for that. Lou isn¡¯t particularly fond of her uncle. Let¡¯s keep things civil if we can, hm, master?¡±

    Gordon settled himself into the water with a sigh. Fen uncoiled her tail from around his neck and handed him a rag. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re going to tell me how that¡­wonderful woman managed to ensnare all of you?¡±

    Fen smiled. For the first couple of weeks after his father¡¯s death, Gordon had nothing but foul words for Lourianne Tome. It had been fun training his tendency to curse her out of him. It wouldn¡¯t do to have him insult the nearest thing to a god and their benefactor. Really, she couldn¡¯t bear it. It was like listening to a worm curse a dragon.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you, master. She is captivating by simply being who she is. There is no trick. I would murder every creature on this world for the chance to taste her.¡± She shivered at the thought.

    ¡°¡­right.¡±

    She didn¡¯t have to look into his thoughts to know he didn¡¯t believe her and it drove him mad. It didn¡¯t matter in the end but the boy was obsessed with discovering the cause for the downfall of his family. A tiny part of him even thought that if he could figure out the ¡°trick¡±, he could regain control over the succubi and things could go back to the way they were.

    She let him keep his little dreams. After all, there could be no true despair without hope. Believing that he would one day escape her control allowed him to endure the constant humiliation with some measure of grace but it would be all the more devastating when it finally hit him that he would never escape. She patiently waited for the day his hope would run out, like aging a fine wine.

    Breaking minds was an art, not a race.

    Several minutes later, she softly said, ¡°Time for breakfast.¡±

    Gordon grunted as he slowly climbed out of the tub. Another use of the water tool to rinse himself and he stood before her with a set jaw, his attempt to look strong ruined by the fear in his eyes.

    Fen wrapped her arms around his broad chest, putting her nose against his neck and breathing in deeply. She wouldn¡¯t say he smelled delicious but it was enough to stoke her hunger. Slowly, she bit into his shoulder, tail whipping in amusement at his quiet wince. Her tongue lapped at the blood, ingesting it. Beyond the irony taste of the liquid, there was also the smoky taste of Gordon¡¯s physical affinity as she consumed the mana contained within. A fraction of the energy the blood carried moved to her core. A pitiful amount but every bit mattered. Consuming the mana from the flesh of their prey was undoubtedly a succubus¡¯ greatest talent.

    She stopped before he became too weak. Gordon swayed as she released him but managed to stay upright, having become accustomed to the feedings. It was nothing new, as part of her contract with him had included it. However, he could no longer order her to pleasure him during the act. There was no more illusion of a master catering to his favorite pet. No, he was her food and he was reminded of it every time, forced to feel every bit of pain and weakness as she drained his life to empower herself.

    Grabbing the rag, she wiped the blood from his shoulder, tail whipping back and forth. ¡°I suppose we should feed you as well, huh master?¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 3

    Gordon Mason, formerly Gordon Grimoire Jr., wore a tight grimace as he allowed Fen to dress him. Though allowed was a strong word. Like everything else in his life, he had no control over the event. No matter how he felt about the wardrobe choices made for him by his previous servant, he could do nothing to change them. Resistance only led to punishment.

    Not for the first time, he wondered how things had gotten to this point. His childhood¡­it hadn¡¯t been easy, as his father was a hard man to please, but he had grown up with the knowledge that he was the heir to a powerful family. The Grimoires didn¡¯t have the strongest knights or the largest wallet, but their name commanded respect. Or instilled fear, but he had learned that there wasn¡¯t much of a difference between the two. It didn¡¯t matter if people followed you because were a saint or a devil, as long as they followed you.

    That¡¯s what his father had instilled in him. Recent events, however, had shown there was one major difference. Being beloved by others meant they were more likely to help when it all went to the abyss. Being hated meant the many enemies you¡¯d accumulated would laugh at your demise and dance on your grave.

    No one had spoken up when his father apparently lost his mind and staged a pointless rebellion in the capital. Gordon knew there was more to the story. The succubi likely had something to do with it. Unfortunately, his father had fought to the very end and there was no retrieving answers from his corpse.

    Somehow, in the wake of his death, the succubi had turned on the Masons. Not a single one was beholden to the orders of their summoners, though that was something only the summoners themselves knew.

    The creatures put on a good show in public. To outsiders, it appeared that the young new head of the family had simply made a few radical decisions. Only the men and women of the Mason family knew they were prisoners of their own minds, enslaved by their once servants.

    Their actions and thoughts were their own, to an extent. Gordon could do what he wanted. He could lash out with all the frustration of the last year and assault the thrall that mocked him daily. However, consequences would follow. Torture was elevated to another dimension of horror when his tormentor could enhance the amount of pain he felt, ensure he stayed conscious without dying from shock, and heal him up to start again anytime she pleased. A single cut was unbearable agony, something he knew from the demonstration she¡¯d given him at the start of their new relationship.

    Similarly, he could think what he wanted. He could spend all day trying to figure out how Lou had won the succubi over. And not just won them over, but instilled a near fanatic loyalty. Fen had looked genuinely offended when he insulted his rival summoner. Her, a creature that he had¡­well, done many shameful things with and subjected to worse without the woman batting an eye.

    Of course, the mystery had an obvious answer. Succubi obeyed stronger succubi. No one had ever managed to secure a contract without such a clause, no matter what they offered. The creatures simply refused. Over time, it became par for the course. Physical affinities weren¡¯t common and the kingdom had far more interest putting the few wielding them to more productive fields, such as healing.

    With the Masons jealously guarding the knowledge of Burning Earth and actively sabotaging anyone who took an interest in summoning, there was no need to worry about someone summoning a higher ranked succubus.

    The Tomes of course had the knowledge but the only way to take it from them was to kill the family to the last child. However, they had refrained. No matter what leverage the Masons had with their stolen secrets, the king wouldn¡¯t tolerate them annihilating a noble family without cause. It would be too blatant a show of disrespect.

    His father let them be. No one thought they had anything to worry about. The Tomes had no resources and hadn¡¯t produced anyone with anything other than a basic elemental affinity in generations.

    How wrong they were.

    Somehow, Lourianne Tome had managed to contract a succubus stronger than his father¡¯s circle five virtue, Belolial. It was the only explanation that could explain how he was driven from their house that day, how he had lost his mind, and the subsequent actions of the succubi.

    But, if it was true, then Lou was hiding some very big secrets. Mainly that she had an elemental that could threaten any of the royal knights at her side, something the crown would be very interested in knowing. And that she effectively had an army within the capital, which the crown would want to know even more.

    He could think about his conclusions all he wanted but he couldn¡¯t say anything. Whenever he tried, he found he physically could not form the words to tell others about his suspicions. Any attempts resulted in his jaw locking uncomfortably and more punishment.

    He didn¡¯t know what was worse; the fact that he would likely be the thrall¡¯s prisoner for the rest of his life or that the elementals were running around the human kingdom with only that degenerate woman to corral them. Succubi were dangerous, something he¡¯d known even before the recent demonstration of their ruthlessness. His father had always warned him to never underestimate the creatures and that was when they had oaths controlling their every action.

    Now that imbecile Lou was letting the damn creatures run amok with zero supervision. He shuddered to think what they were getting up to.

    ¡°There! All ready for the day.¡±

    With perfect timing that Gordon doubted was a coincidence, someone knocked on the door. A moment later, the door was opened by a female servant carrying a tray. In the brief moment their gazes met, Gordon saw admiration in her gaze. Then she lowered her head. ¡°I¡¯ve brought your breakfast, my lord.¡±

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    ¡°Thank you~¡± Fen stepped forward to take the tray. With clear reluctance, the servant retreated, closing the door softly behind her.

    The thrall giggled. ¡°Poor creature. She must have been so excited to have been given the duty of delivering your meal. Many a maid have made a fortune entertaining their masters. Why, she looked positively eager for the chance.¡± She stepped forward, running a finger down Gordon¡¯s broad chest. ¡°What do you say? Should I call her back? We can spare the five minutes it would take for you to satisfy yourself, haha.¡±

    He didn¡¯t bother answering the jibe. That would only amuse her.

    ¡°Oh, but I am being a bit unfair, aren¡¯t I? It was five minutes for me and I was trying to get the event over with as quickly as I could without being too obvious. Having a heavy man-child huffing over me is not exactly my idea of fun.¡±

    Gordon couldn¡¯t contain the slightest flinch and of course she noticed. A hand gently patted his cheek as she giggled. ¡°Even now, you can¡¯t believe that I didn¡¯t enjoy a moment of your, hm, affection. I wonder. Is that the famous Grimoire arrogance? Or maybe I simply outdid myself with my performance.¡±

    He knew that succubi played to men¡¯s desires. On some level, he knew what they had was fake. It was always fake.

    ¡°Oh, not always, Junior. Our bodies are made to enjoy sex. Otherwise, our time here would be quite tedious. And there are times when I have enjoyed myself. Like with Lou.¡± She shuddered. ¡°Though she is a terrible tease. Wouldn¡¯t even let me have a lick of her glorious self. And that wife of hers. Mm.¡± She licked her lips. ¡°You are simply inferior. Disgustingly so.¡±

    He grit his teeth, pushing down his rising indignation. His stomach growled, providing a welcome distraction.

    ¡°Yes, yes. Breakfast. Go on.¡±

    Without a word, Gordon knelt. Fen balanced the tray of food on the end of her tail as she tied a napkin around his neck. She grabbed a small sausage and pinched off a piece, holding it over him. Gordon opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue as she fed him. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said after swallowing the bite.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, pet~¡±

    She continued to feed him and he thanked her after every bite. He had to if he wanted to finish his meal, something he had learned the hard way. It was a simple thing but it was a stark reminder that everything he had, every tiny amount of happiness or bit of luxury, was at her whim and could be snatched away at any time.

    The last time he had forgotten to thank her, she had refused to feed him for two weeks, using her magic to keep his body functioning. Despite suffering no ill side-effects, his mind and stomach remained convinced he was starving. A unique torture, one of many the thrall had devised.

    He finished the meal quickly, having also learned not to waste the thrall¡¯s time, and they exited the bedroom. Two imps joined them as they headed for the door, humanoid figures shorter than his knees the color of ash. They ran on their knuckles, thick, lizard like tails swishing behind them.

    He had never liked the creatures, with their big eyes and sharp teeth. They enjoyed skulking about far too much. During his father¡¯s time, they were ordered not to be seen but were always there when called for. It had unnerved him as a child.

    The two imps held open the doors as he left the estate. A large carriage with the Grimoire, now Mason, family crest, an open book laid out over a five-pointed star, on the side waited nearby. Along with an irate older man.

    Gordon inwardly winced seeing the man he had grown up calling Uncle Thomas. The man was a good friend of his father and a close confidant. He handled many of the family¡¯s business investments in the capital. While his father had concentrated on the nobles, Uncle Thomas juggled the greedy interests of the merchants. Or at least he used to. When Gordon took over as the head of the family, ¡°he¡± fired the family friend without so much as a conversation.

    It had been months since Gordon saw the man he had once greeted with a smile nearly every day for most of his life. Thomas¡¯ already balding head had lost even more hair and what remained was almost entirely gray. His pants were obviously tight on him and he didn¡¯t bother buttoning his vest over his protruding stomach. Dark bags hung under his eyes that widened with excitement when he spotted Gordon and the man hurried over.

    ¡°Junior!¡±

    ¡°¡­Uncle Thomas,¡± he replied slowly. He swallowed as Fen hid herself behind him, placing a hand on the small of his back. A reminder¡­and a quiet threat. ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. Too long, eh? The two of us should have a drink. For your father¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. First, why are you here?¡±

    Uncle Thomas wrung his hands. ¡°Ah, you see. I was wondering if you had a job for me, good nephew? Not in my old position, haha!¡± The laughter was strained and filled with desperation. ¡°You probably already have an eager young pup filling that role now. But these old hands can still balance an account book. I¡¯ve heard you¡¯ve been doing well for yourself. Your father would be proud.¡±

    He had no idea how well the family businesses were doing. Fen didn¡¯t allow him to have any important information, another way of controlling him. He felt for his ¡®uncle¡¯ but there was nothing he could do for him. Gordon didn¡¯t even have the independence to feed himself. He had no leeway to help shoulder another man¡¯s burdens. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, uncle, but I don¡¯t need any help.¡±

    Fen pressed lightly on his back and Gordon took the cue to step away¡­but Thomas blocked him. His sickly-sweet smile had collapsed, his thin lips pressing together tightly.

    ¡°You¡­I helped raise you. I helped build this family into what it is. Do you think your father could have become a royal advisor without me there to help fund his many schemes? I have been nothing but loyal to this family. Do you know what that¡¯s cost me? No one, anywhere, will hire someone with the Grimoire taint on them. And yet, you throw me out on my ass without so much as an explanation. I deserve better than that!¡±

    It wasn¡¯t up to me, he wanted to say.

    [Kindly remind dear Uncle Thomas why he was thrown out on his ass, as he says,] Fen¡¯s voice whispered in his mind.

    ¡°Uncle, you gave me no choice. How could I keep you on when you were stealing money? Not even a fool keeps a dog that bites the hand that feeds it.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± Thomas flushed with anger. ¡°I was only taking that money to pay a few debts! I always put it back. Your father and I had an understanding.¡±

    ¡°And I am not my father. I think I can do better than a financial advisor who gambles away my money. Though, you are right that you are skilled. Anyone would be lucky to have you if you¡¯ve mended your ways. Don¡¯t give up hope.¡±

    ¡°Bastard!¡± With two large steps, the desperate man reached for Gordon¡¯s collar but pulled his hand back with a yelp as Fen¡¯s tail struck the offensive limb. One of the imps slammed into Thomas¡¯ leg, sending him sprawling to the ground. The other landed on his chest, hissing at him.

    [Time to go, Junior.]

    ¡°For the sake of our past, I¡¯ll forgive you. I truly wish you the best,¡± Gordon said as he headed for the carriage, ignoring the hot glare on his back.

    ¡°You bastard! You can¡¯t treat people like this!¡± Thomas roared, squirming as the two imps dragged him away. ¡°You¡¯re a piece of shit, just like your father! Don¡¯t think this is the end, boy! You¡¯ll get yours! Your whole cursed family will get what¡¯s coming to them!¡±

    We¡¯ve already gotten it, uncle.

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 4

    With winter fast approaching, the streets of the capital were empty, most of the peasants occupied with preparing for the cold and the nobles of the city reluctant to venture out in the unpleasant weather. It made for smooth travel. Gordon didn¡¯t know if he was happy for the lack of delays. On one hand, the faster he finished whatever tasks Fen wanted done, the faster he could get back to sleeping. Magic could keep him going but the exhaustion had reached his soul. He would kill a man for a full night''s rest.

    On the other hand, he detested anything that helped the succubi. The demons deserved to face every attrition the world could throw at them, including the saints themselves descending from Paradise to smite them.

    ¡°So?¡± he asked. ¡°I know we have a dinner date later but what are we doing in the city now?¡±

    Across from him, Fen stopped running a brush through her hair and smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t be a lazy boy, Junior. We can do more than one thing a day. These are busy, busy times.¡±

    He stared at her.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve become such a bore.¡± Putting down the brush, she leaned forward, tilting her head up and batting her eyes. ¡°What happened to the man who used to throw parties for the rich, young, and desperate every night? Drowning himself in wine and debauchery under his father¡¯s nose.¡±

    Gordon kept his silence until she retreated with a chuckle. ¡°We¡¯re going to see an old friend. Elorex Guiness.¡±

    ¡°Rex.¡± Gordon vaguely recalled the name. He was an irrelevant member of the merchant family, someone who had failed to climb the ladder of gold and now worked as a simple employee at their store in the capital. A frequent member of the parties Gordon used to host for young, hungry men. He had little power, the only favors he could give to Gordon being a warning about valuable new items in the Guiness Company¡¯s inventory. ¡°What do you want with him?¡±

    ¡°The same thing you wanted. A heads-up on a good deal.¡±

    The rest of the journey continued in silence until the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a large building with several white doves painted on the front. Two knights dressed in gold armor with white capes stood on either side of the door watching them intensely as they disembarked. One stepped forward as Gordon approached. ¡°Lord¡­Mason? Rex has asked us to direct you up the road to the Bear Roast. He invites you for a meal.¡±

    Since when does that bastard direct me anywhere? His family was in better shape than ever but their reputation still hadn¡¯t recovered. The Masons were on thin ice with the crown so the other families thought they didn¡¯t dare stir the waters with open conflict with anyone else. If Gordon was in charge, they¡¯d be right. He wasn¡¯t though and Fen only responded to disrespect in one way.

    Punishment.

    [Repeat after me, Junior~] the thrall whispered into his mind, the seductive tone carrying hints of danger.

    ¡°I suggest,¡± he said, ¡°that you tell Rex that he has ten minutes to bring his ass here or he can forget he knows me. Ten minutes exactly.¡±

    He didn¡¯t bother waiting for a response before turning on his heel and stomping back to his carriage. Before he made it, he heard feet pounding on the road as one of the knights ran off to deliver the message.

    ¡°What if he doesn¡¯t come?¡± Gordon asked once they were seated inside.

    ¡°Of course he¡¯s going to come,¡± Fen said. ¡°What is he without you? An employee. A laborer, no different from the average peasant. Disgraced as you may be, you are the head of the Mason family, a count. A noble lord with territory and wealth. Besides, I doubt he has forgotten the pleasures of me and my kin. This stunt is a childish powerplay done in hopes of wresting more resources from you. Ridiculous. He will come.¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°But what if he doesn¡¯t? Smart, as you think you are, you don¡¯t know every¡ª"

    He grunted as her tail smacked him hard enough to turn his face. ¡°Careful, Junior.¡± He flinched as the spade tip of the tail touched his cheek but it was only there to soothe the burning. ¡°That almost sounded like an insult.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare,¡± he grumbled.

    ¡°Why do you try when you know there is no lying to me? I do understand what you¡¯re trying to say. I can use logic to predict human actions but if your species was ruled by logic, you¡¯d never have summoned us to this plane.¡± She chuckled. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t come, we go about the rest of our day and replace him. He is far from unique.¡±

    He didn¡¯t need replacing as seven minutes later, there was a loud knocking on the carriage door as someone huffed for breath on the other side. Gordon opened the door to a sweating young man with thick dark hair and dark blue eyes. He took a deep breath and forced a smile to his face. ¡°Lord¡­Mason. It¡¯s a shame you couldn¡¯t join me for an early lunch.¡±

    ¡°Not hungry,¡± Gordon replied, waving for him to board. To no one¡¯s surprise, Rex chose to sit beside Fen.

    ¡°Of course. Then, to what do I owe the honor of your presence? I¡¯d have thought the new head of a family would have plenty to occupy his time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been months since I¡¯ve succeeded my father, I¡¯ve long consolidated my power.¡± I may be a puppet but I won¡¯t be looked down on by a nobody. ¡°I¡¯m here to discuss business.¡± What business am I discussing?

    [I want to know about any change in prices or stocking. What is the Guiness Company prioritizing? What has his family ordered him to do? Who is the marquis taking an interest in?]

    ¡°We have a standing agreement, don¡¯t we? I want to know where I can get the most for my gold.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. Then will I be getting my end of our bargain?¡± He looked sideways at Fen, flashing a charming smile made revolting by the circumstances.

    Gordon forced himself not to look at Fen. He didn¡¯t dare presume. If she couldn¡¯t stand to let him touch her, he could only imagine what she would do if Rex tried.

    [Don¡¯t be silly, Junior. It is entirely different now that you¡¯re no longer holding my leash. The fool is willingly letting me into his mind and giving me free reign. No matter what I do to him, it¡¯s not breaking any laws. I¡¯m almost excited, haha.]

    Rex sucked in a sharp breath as the thrall undid his pants and slipped her hand between his legs. ¡°W-well, you¡¯ll be interested to know, geh!¡± He bucked as Fen¡¯s hand began to move. ¡°The, uh, price of iron has, mm, gone up. Additionally, the shop has been told to offer better prices for weapons. More for armor.¡±

    ¡°Someone is arming a force.¡±

    ¡°Annnnd, our people went around the farms, buying grain for outrageous prices.¡±

    Weapons and food. Preparations for a battle. Depending on who was buying those things, it could spell disaster.

    [This fool hasn¡¯t put it together yet but from the evidence he¡¯s collected, all those supplies have been coming to the capital. Who would dare build an army under the nose of the king? The answer is no one. Not after your father¡¯s ¡®rebellion¡¯. That is just asking for death. That leaves only one option.]

    The crown. The royal army is preparing for a campaign. Or a siege. The real question is, who against? A rebelling noble? A horde of monsters? Or something else?

    [How exciting!]

    ¡°Ah! Wa¡ªwait, I¡¯m going¡ª"

    Rex groaned as his hips pumped, a wet spot appearing on the front of his pants. His face flushed. ¡°That, was, ah¡ª"

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about you blowing your load early. Anything else?¡±

    Rex took a moment to catch his breath before continuing. ¡°There have been¡­rumors. The nobles are pushing for a reformation of the army. They have long argued that the commanders should be of noble blood but recently the movement is gaining momentum.¡±

    [That¡¯s all he has. Time for him to go.]

    Gordon opened the door. ¡°Get out.¡±

    ¡°What? But¡ª" He turned toward Fen, who smiled at him. The moment was interrupted by Gordon grabbing him by the front of his shirt and tossing him out. He glared at the sloppy man who stumbled while grappling with his falling pants. ¡°If you want any more benefits, bring me something valuable next time.¡±

    He closed the door firmly and Fen told the driver to keep going. ¡°That was insightful,¡± she said.

    ¡°Was it worth it?¡±

    ¡°Very. You humans comprehend so little of what you take in. Going through his memories with a, as you say, fine comb revealed many interesting details. I knew the crown was preparing for conflict but the sales of the Guiness Company has shown how large the conflict truly is.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Would you believe I don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Haha, you¡¯re learning, Junior. Our next trip should provide more details.¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 5

    Gordon found himself staring out the window, curious to see the thrall¡¯s next source of information. He was surprised that they moved further and further away from the center of the city. The opulent manors were replaced by the two-story homes owned by more successful craftsmen and eventually by the run-down huts common to most peasant families. If it were anyone else, he¡¯d question what information she thought she could gather from laborers. Now, he only closed the shutters of the window and waited to see her next scheme.

    Minutes later, the carriage rolled to a stop. ¡°Time to go, Junior,¡± she said cheerily.

    He stepped down from the carriage and looked around. The building in front of him was nicer than its neighbors but that wasn¡¯t saying much. All of them looked they had been cobbled together with little planning using whatever was lying around. Its ¡®windows¡¯ were holes in the walls covered by sheets of fabric and its roof slanted to one side, but the people inside didn¡¯t seem to mind the fact that the building appeared to be one mild breeze away from collapsing on top of them. Gordon could hear the revelry from the road.

    His fine clothing and carriage stood out, the few people on the street eying him warily. Wondering to themselves if the potential benefits of robbing him were worth the risks. Luckily for them, their fear of the highborn outweighed their greed and they decided to quicken their steps, doing all they could to avoid him.

    The exceptions were the women standing in front of the building. They were more than excited at the sight of a man with money and raised a ruckus as they called out to him. Gordon grimaced as one of the more endowed women pulled out a breast from her thin dress and jostled it. ¡°A brothel?¡± he whispered. ¡°If you wanted to get laid, there are better ways. And places.¡±

    [But this is where we need to be. Inside, Junior.]

    Reluctantly, he headed for the open door, restraining his reaction as the women ran their hands over him. Inside was a haze of smoky incense, perfume, and naked bodies. He spotted a man in expensive robes headed toward him but the man¡¯s gaze found Fen and his smile froze. I suppose you¡¯ve been here.

    [My kin have reached an understanding with the owner. We keep the guards away and educate his ladies on how to draw in business. He ignores our presence in his establishment and assists our efforts when called upon. A brothel is a very good place to conduct clandestine business of all sorts. It naturally draws the kind of people we want and provides a believable excuse should anyone come asking questions. That way, up the stairs.]

    He followed her direction. The second floor contained the rooms where the employees serviced their customers, which he could tell from the noise coming from inside them. Mental prodding carried him to the end of the hall and he opened the last door on the right.

    Inside the cramped space was a single bed covered in dingy, stained sheets. A thrall with brick red skin and curly, dark hair lounged on her side, eating from a tray of fruit. Her purple eyes looked up as they entered and she smiled, flashing a mouthful of dangerously sharp teeth.

    ¡°Fen!¡± she called excitedly, tail whipping excitedly. ¡°And Junior. What a pleasant surprise~¡±

    When Gordon hesitated to enter, Fen pushed him inside and closed the door firmly behind her. ¡°Sit,¡± she ordered and before he could feel indignation at the order, he was on the ground, his body having moved to her will. He wanted to curse the thrall but his mouth refused to speak.

    ¡°Benedial.¡± Fen climbed onto to the bed, pushing the other thrall onto her back. She took a moment to smile at Gordon before pressing their bodies together, their tails twining. He swallowed at the sight, hating that despite knowing her game, he fell for it every time. ¡°I hope you brought me good news, Benny.¡±

    ¡°Of course~ The prince can¡¯t help talking to his favorite maid.¡±

    Maid? How did she get employed in the castle? An interrogator would have investigated her.

    ¡°That¡¯s easy, Junior,¡± Benny said, turning towards him. A pounding in his head forced him to shut his eyes. When he opened them again, the thrall was replaced by an obsidian woman with lava pools for eyes and a crown of black horns.

    A virtue.

    ¡°Correct~¡±

    But how?! Belolial was the only virtue summoned by the family in the last century. You can¡¯t¡ª

    ¡°Did you know?¡± Benny said, interrupting his train of thought. ¡°The Guardian of Dimensions that facilitates travel between realms is a stickler for the rules but only the letter of the law, so to speak. Contracts between a summoner and an elemental must be agreed upon by both parties under their own power. However, that¡¯s the extent of it. There¡¯s nothing to stop an enterprising thrall from, say, threatening to kill a man¡¯s entire family if he doesn¡¯t contract a virtue with no restrictions.¡±

    Gordon stared in growing horror as the impact of her words dawned on him. You¡­

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say there are a lot more of us in Harvest than there used to be.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Junior,¡± Fen said, smiling sweetly. ¡°You won¡¯t have to contemplate the inevitability of your species being overthrown for very long. By tomorrow, you¡¯ll have forgotten about Benny and that little detail.¡± She laughed, knowing her words only increased his panic. ¡°Now, on to business. What news?¡±

    ¡°Mm. It¡¯s been confirmed. The goblinoid hordes will once again grace the shores of the human continent.¡±

    Gordon would have jumped up if his body was listening to him. Goblinoids? Is there going to be a repeat of the Great War?

    ¡°No, silly boy. Green Mountain is an island. That means limited space. After centuries of peace, they have outgrown it. As such, a few tribes are sailing the seas in search of a new home. Humans are the easiest targets so they¡¯re going to try their luck here.¡±

    What do you mean we¡¯re the easiest targets?

    ¡°Who else are they going to attack? The three closest landmasses are the human continent, the elven continent, and the dragon isles. Humans, elves, or dragons. Who would you attack?¡±

    Gordon grimaced.

    ¡°Exactly~ Honestly, I don¡¯t see what the big deal is. It¡¯s only a couple hundred thousand I¡¯d assume. Hardly worth the fuss.¡±

    ¡°To a kingdom that has not faced serious war in hundreds of years, it must be a terrifying prospect,¡± Fen said. ¡°The true question is how this affect the political battlefield. The Guiness family¡¯s trade partners are about to wage war. That cannot be good for the Expansionist faction.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the king is doing his best to paint the doves as traitors but it¡¯s kind of hard when he can¡¯t make direct moves. After all, they¡¯re bankrolling this war, haha. How hilarious is that? I love humans.¡±

    ¡°Have they changed their stance on trading with Green Mountain?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve suspended their convoys for the time being but not at all. Have you ever had the opportunity to meet the greenies? War is a pastime to them. They kill each other daily. In most of their tribes, you¡¯re not an adult until you¡¯ve killed someone in battle. They don¡¯t see this as anything serious. A tribe is going to attack us. To the victor goes the spoils and then we get on with life. Hardly a matter to stop the flow of gold.¡±

    A pastime. Don¡¯t they care that their people are going to die?

    ¡°Junior, honey, there are a lot of them. And I mean, a lot. Let¡¯s take goblins for example. One male and female goblin going at it non-stop can have two to four kids a pop, every four months. The average family has over twenty kids, in one household. The whole extended clan with uncles, aunts, and cousins?¡± She waved. ¡°If they didn¡¯t engage in blood sports and war daily, they¡¯d drown in their own piss and shit. And that¡¯s one of the goblinoid races. Their culture is just nature¡¯s way of balancing things out.¡±

    Fuck.

    ¡°An apt way to describe the situation.¡± Fen chuckled. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I would say the world was conspiring against humanity. There is an impending invasion right as the duke of Victory is readying to send many of the strongest fighters in the kingdom to their deaths in the Bleak Peaks. Has the king not sent missives to the fort?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you won¡¯t believe this. The king told the duke to hold off on the campaign and do you know what he said? He basically told him to fuck off!¡±

    ¡°No, really?¡±

    ¡°Really, really! The duke has his pants in a twist because the king has done his absolute best to weaken the James family but now wants the duke to ride to his rescue. So the duke told him that Victory was built to handle the threats within the Bleak Peaks and that the royal army could handle a bunch of goblins. Which, point, is true.¡±

    ¡°Fort Victory was indeed built to handle the threats beyond the mountains. Also, their forces are much smaller in number as opposed to the army, and that is before any conscription. The problem is that the army isn¡¯t used to dealing with large scale threats. Most of the soldiers will be out of their depth. I doubt they have trained as hard as the knights of Victory who risk their lives constantly. In that sense, the invasion could be good for the kingdom. Remind them that they¡¯re not entirely safe in their little corner of the world.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but the king is damn near pissing himself because he doesn¡¯t believe the Guiness family¡¯s evaluation of the situation and is convinced the whole of Green Mountain is about to march on the kingdom.¡± She leaned up, pressing her lips against Fen¡¯s ear, though she made no attempts to whisper. ¡°I heard he¡¯s started losing his hair!¡± She dropped to the bed, giggling.

    ¡°That explains his zeal in procuring allies and haste to squash any lingering internal threats.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. That¡¯s what the whole diplomatic mission to Aggro is about. He¡¯s hoping he can convince the glorious bastard to fight alongside him if the goblins do invade full force. And his utter debacle with our elven mistress, of course. Haha, I laughed so hard when I heard about that. Can you imagine? Giving her a piece of her god like it¡¯s a commodity. I mean, for some, that would have been great, but he chose the wrong target. I mean, how difficult would it have been to investigate a little? Or outright ask her what she wanted to form an alliance?¡±

    ¡°I assume he didn¡¯t want to present as weak to the elves and risk, what, another invasion?¡±

    ¡°Haha, yeah! How stupid is that? If the elves wanted this land, they¡¯d come over here and take it.¡±

    ¡°The king isn¡¯t aware of their strength or culture. Therefore, he could only operate based on his knowledge of human nature. A noble or rival king would absolutely strike if they sensed weakness. Ah. Do you think he took the presence of Kierra to be something as a scout? An agent to assess the strength of the human kingdom?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what the first prince thinks. They really can¡¯t wrap their heads around a woman marrying another woman for love. Easier for them to accept that Lou was a convenient excuse to get somebody in the kingdom to gather information.¡±

    ¡°Which would make him all the more hesitant to go to them begging for an alliance. So, with incomplete information, he decides to ingratiate them by offering what he believes to be a valuable relic or resource. Only to deliver a peerless insult. How unfortunate.¡± Despite her words, Fen¡¯s laughter held no sympathy.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. And his whole plan to squash internal threats is not going to work out. I mean, those summoners weren¡¯t even doing anything but now that they think the crown is targeting them, I¡¯d bet anything that they¡¯re going to do something extreme.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well, the crown may catch a lucky break. Junior and I are going to have a look at this group. See what they have to say for themselves. If it is something detrimental to the plan¡ª"

    ¡°Ooo, a hunt. I haven¡¯t gotten a good meal since I¡¯ve gotten here.¡± Benny licked her lips. ¡°Do you think we can keep some of them? Better to drain a few of them slowly than draw attention snatching peasants that aren¡¯t even worth the effort.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 6

    Gordon stared in disbelief as the two creatures laughed while discussing the future of humanity. He knew their flippant tones were an act, another way to torture him, but underneath their tittering and giggles was a cold apathy and a sick amusement at the thought of helpless people pulled along by the currents of fate.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Junior?¡± Fen cooed. ¡°You look pale.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± He started, shocked by his sudden ability to speak. The pause allowed him to take stock of his emotions and think past his desire to curse the scheming creatures to the Abyss and back. Gordon realized he may be the only person with complete knowledge of the tragedy awaiting Harvest and before him was one of the only beings who may have a chance of saving them. After tonight, Fen would erase his memory. This was his only chance to make a difference.

    A presumptuous thought but he felt that he owed it to the kingdom, and his dead father, to at least try.

    He cleared his throat. ¡°Fendelheim.¡±

    The thrall smiled, raising her head. ¡°Yes, pet?¡±

    ¡°Is the invasion of the goblinoids part of your plan?¡±

    ¡°Not at all~ I was surprised as anyone else to learn of it. These are interesting times.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Benny declared. ¡°Can you imagine being summoned a century ago? Boring. The king didn¡¯t even murder a handful of siblings for the throne.¡±

    ¡°Yes, our talents have certainly been wasted by this realm¡¯s summoners. But I don¡¯t think that is what Junior wants to discuss. Is it?¡±

    ¡°¡­can you protect Harvest?¡±

    ¡°Are you asking if we can fight your war for you? Perhaps. We lack the numbers for now but that can be remedied. Are you asking if we could sway the battle in Harvest¡¯s favor? In many ways. We could save thousands of lives as healers, change the very field of battle with earth magic, decimate the enemies with coordinated assaults. But you already know that, better than anyone¡­save our precious Lou, glorious as she is.¡±

    ¡°When do I get to meet her?¡± Benny whined.

    Fen sighed heavily. ¡°If only I knew.¡±

    Gordon pushed down his reflexive disgust for their admiration of his long-time rival. ¡°What would it take for you to intervene on the kingdom¡¯s behalf?¡±

    Fen laughed. ¡°Intervene? Why, for the love of your saints, would we do that?¡±

    ¡°Just¡­what would it take?¡±

    The thrall¡¯s smile disappeared. ¡°A pointless question. Yes, there are things that could prompt us to action but they are far beyond your means.¡±

    ¡°Not me, but the kingdom! Reveal yourself to the king. Explain what you can do. The crown may not be happy but Harvest is no stranger to making deals with elementals. They gave that mutant cocksucker a whole damn city.¡±

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°I¡¯m touched, Junior. That wasn¡¯t even a ploy aimed for my destruction. I didn¡¯t take you to be so patriotic.¡±

    ¡°¡­a lot of people are going to die.¡± Gordon wouldn¡¯t lie and say that he was a bleeding heart that wept for every peasant that lived and died, but he also didn¡¯t have his father¡¯s callous heart. He couldn¡¯t let hundreds, or even thousands, of people die without doing anything to help.

    ¡°Since you want to discuss this, tell me why we should barter with your kingdom when we can have anything we want given time.¡±

    ¡°Can you? No matter how good you are at scheming, there will be places barred to elementals. Or can only be accessed by the king¡¯s inner circle. This is an opportunity to advance your goals. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.¡±

    Benny laughed. ¡°Once in a lifetime he says!¡±

    ¡°Aw, don¡¯t mock him. He¡¯s trying his best. But, as usual, your perspective is too narrow. Perhaps a single lifetime wouldn¡¯t be enough but we are not as fragile as humans. If one lifetime isn¡¯t enough, we¡¯ll use two. The king is wary of elementals? Then we will use a human. Perhaps a talented young orphan. A girl. Raise her to be beautiful and strong enough to entice a future king.¡±

    ¡°Not a boy?¡± Benny asked.

    ¡°Oh no. Monarchs are quite sensitive about ¡®fathering the line¡¯. They wouldn¡¯t accept a man outside the family wearing the crown.¡±

    ¡°Humans are strange. Don¡¯t they realize that the woman contributes equally to the traits of offspring? It¡¯s the same thing.¡±

    ¡°Funny, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Gordon snapped. He regretted the outburst the moment after. He was relieved to see the succubi didn¡¯t seem bothered but his anxiety mounted as he tried to find the perfect argument to convince them.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Benny said, glowing red-orange eyes narrowing. ¡°Why do you care so much? This doesn¡¯t have anything to do with you. We¡¯ll make sure you and the Mason family survive and I don¡¯t think you have the luxury to worry about others.¡±

    ¡°¡­you might not understand this, but people care about each other,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Standing aside while people die would make me feel bad.¡±

    ¡°Hehe. Under all that bluster and pride, you¡¯re softie.¡±

    ¡°Wanting to prevent the death of thousands does not make me a softie. It means I¡¯m not a monster.¡±

    ¡°Relax, Junior~¡± Fen purred. ¡°You¡¯ll feel bad for tonight but by morning, you¡¯ll be swimming in blissful ignorance. Now, enough prattling.¡± His next attempt to speak resulted in nothing but silence as his body refused to listen. ¡°Time to go.¡±

    ¡°Hey, wait a minute.¡± Benny rolled them over, pouting. ¡°I¡¯ve been cooped up in that palace for over a week.¡± She ground her hips against the thrall pinned beneath her. ¡°Come on~ Let¡¯s me have a little fun.¡±

    ¡°Mm¡­I suppose.¡± Fen turned toward him and Gordon¡¯s heart pounded. Is she¡­

    His hopes died as she turned away, her arms going around the virtue¡¯s neck as she kissed her. Gordon tried to close his eyes as their embrace heated up but that didn¡¯t help as the image was projected straight to his mind, in more detail than before. He could see every inch of flawless, purple skin and make out individual strands of Fen¡¯s silver hair as Benny removed her dress.

    The virtue didn¡¯t bother taking off her own dress, simply lifting the hem. The image in Gordon¡¯s mind disappeared. He opened his eyes curiously but quickly shut them as a sharp pain started behind his eyes. A moment later, the image returned accompanied by two moans. He mentally flinched at the sight of the virtue slowly fucking Fen with a large, black cock that made him extremely self-conscious.

    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Benny groaned. She planted her hands on either side of Fen¡¯s head as the thrall wrapped her legs around her waist, pulling her closer. ¡°Ahhh¡­can¡¯t tell you, mm, how annoying it is, hah, letting that little prick put his littler prick in me every night and pretending I enjoy it.¡±

    Fen opened her mouth but a dark hand covered it. ¡°And that¡¯s enough out of you,¡± the virtue growled. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m happy taking orders from a thrall? All because you had the luck of meeting that wonderful¡ª"

    She yelped as her hand was bitten. Her curses were cut off by Fen grabbing two of her horns and pulling her into a kiss. Benny fought to wrest her lips away. ¡°Show me,¡± she growled. And then no more words were shared as the two succubi shared their bodies and minds.

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 7

    Three hours later, the two of them drove away from the brothel. Gordon was tense, sweaty, and painfully aroused with no relief in sight. Across from him, Fen languished on the bench looking satisfied with herself. Something he found interesting see as that virtue, Benedial, had practically used her like a toy.

    ¡°She is a virtue. It is ingrained within our very being to submit to stronger succubi and yet she is following the orders of someone two circles beneath her.¡± Fen stretched. ¡°Naturally, there is friction. She¡¯s amused by outperforming human males while making them watch. If letting her rut me while your dick twitches in envy makes her feel better, it¡¯s a fate I¡¯m willing to suffer.¡± She chuckled, tail swinging in amusement.

    ¡°Is that what I¡¯m doing here?¡± Gordon snapped. ¡°Playing the idiot?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Junior. Did you believe I dragged you with me for your outstanding wit and sense of humor? You¡¯re a prop. That is all you are. I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d figured that out by now.¡±

    Gordon frowned but held his tongue.

    ¡°No need to look so down. At least you have purpose, something many humans in this kingdom lack. Minor as it is, you have a role to play in a grand future. Most are the same as livestock, being shepherded around with no thoughts to their futures and no idea of the world beyond their enclosures.¡±

    Her tail gently slapped his cheek. ¡°Turn that frown around, pet. Once we return, you¡¯ll have a moment to change and then we are on our way to the Tome estate. I¡¯ll need you to be your usual charming self.¡±

    ¡°Why? You¡¯ve made it clear I don¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°The Tomes are summoners. Our host will be more critical of our interactions and more suspicious of me taking the lead in conversation.¡±

    They might¡ªno, I can¡¯t think that!

    ¡°Too late.¡± Fen chuckled. ¡°Amazing. Just because I choose to speak to you verbally, you cannot remember that all your thoughts are audible. You¡¯re hoping the Tomes will notice your predicament and save you. You¡¯re wrong, of course. Assuming Javarius Tome is connected to this mysterious group of summoners and they have an elemental capable of combating a succubus¡¯ mental prowess, I¡¯ve already made preparations.

    ¡°Even if they should slay me the moment I set foot in the house, your mind is a maze. It would take a master days to unravel it and you cannot share my secrets, the ones you remember. Tonight¡¯s foray will be added to that ¡®vault¡¯ until I have a chance to erase it. I¡¯m looking forward to watching you squirm, desperately searching for a way to expose me.¡±

    Gordon spent the rest of the trip in brooding silence. He did his best not to plot over ways to expose the succubi but his thoughts kept returning to the idea. Despite everything that had happened, he couldn¡¯t accept that he was truly powerless.

    So, he schemed. He cycled through dozens of plans as he arrived home and was handed off to the human maids. He ignored the light touches that strayed toward impropriety as the women helped him change. It wasn¡¯t as if he could indulge. The moment he tried to, a thrall would burst into the room and drag him away on ¡®important business¡¯. Then there would be punishment.

    Two hours later, he stepped off the carriage in front of the Tome estate and Gordon didn¡¯t have a viable plan. He was forced to accept that outsmarting the thrall was simply beyond his abilities. He had to put his hopes on the Tome family and pray they could live up to their pride as the kingdom¡¯s oldest family of summoners. No doubt his father was turning in his grave at the very thought.

    The door was opened for them before they had the chance to announce themselves, a pretty young maid bowing deeply at the waist. ¡°Welcome, Lord Mason. My lord is waiting in the dining room.¡±

    She stepped aside, letting the two of them inside. Another maid extended a hand, eyes nervous as she looked up at him. ¡°Um, I can take your jacket, my lord.¡±

    Gordon shrugged off his coat and passed it to Fen. The young maid wilted at the gesture but he paid her no mind. ¡°Guide me.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Please, this way.¡± The first maid wasted no time leading them through the house. It was a modest estate, with a dining room that could only seat a table of eight, a rather paltry show for a noble. Mason¡¯s own table could seat sixteen, not that he ever bothered to host guests. Like everything else amongst the elite, it was a show.

    Javarius ¡°Jackal¡± Tome didn¡¯t seem bothered by his lack of wealth. Seated at the head of his table and dressed in a fine suit, he looked pleased as a prince, wearing an arrogant smirk as he watched Gordon approach. Since the last time he¡¯d seen the man, the Tome patriarch had lost a few inches on his gut, the graying hair near his temples was less pronounced, and his dark brown eyes were full of energy.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°Lord Mason!¡± he shouted with glee as he stood, emphasizing the last name. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you could make it.¡±

    ¡°Lord Tome.¡± Gordon shook his extended hand before taking the seat next to him, Fen sitting beside him. ¡°Thank you for the invitation.¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d accept, given the history between our families. But in these troubled times, us summoners must stick together.¡±

    [Draw him in, pet~]

    ¡°Before we begin, I believe I should disclose something.¡± The older man reached into his vest and pulled out two lockets, one gold, one silver. The gold one was glowing. ¡°Artifacts from a few friends of mine. Very good against succubi. The gold one alerts me to the use of the mental affinity nearby. The silver protects me against mana intrusion.¡± He grinned. ¡°I want to trust you, Junior, but traditions are hard to break and you are your father¡¯s son. Better to make things clear and avoid an unfortunate situation.¡±

    Gordon fought down a sneer. The other man was clearly taunting him but he didn¡¯t rise to the bait. The arrival of the first course gave him a moment to collect his thoughts.

    [Do not eat the food.]

    Why?

    [It smells of poison. A paralytic, slow-acting. It appears this is going to be an interesting night.]

    ¡°Forgive me if I get straight to business.¡± Gordon pushed aside his plate and laced his fingers. ¡°Why am I here? We¡¯re not friendly enough for social calls.¡±

    Jackal took a sip of his soup and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. ¡°Boorish, but fine. There is only one reason for our houses to meet. Tell me, have you heard the rumors that the king is preparing to announce a new decree?¡±

    ¡°The one that would restrict the kinds of elementals a summoner may contract to this realm, you mean.¡±

    ¡°I see your information network hasn¡¯t suffered from your father¡¯s madness. Yes, that. If you have any doubts, let me squash them. It is real and will be announced on Saintsday. And this is only the beginning. The king is targeting summoners. The question is, what will the summoners do about it?¡±

    [Slowly.]

    ¡°What are you suggesting?¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± Jackal chuckled. ¡°He plans to prohibit the contracting of succubi. I¡¯d have thought you already had a scheme in mind.¡±

    [Follow my lead.]

    ¡°My father was the schemer,¡± he said neutrally as the thrall whispered into his mind. ¡°And I¡¯m not going to fight the royal knights. No, if the king wants us gone, the Mason family will leave, taking all our money and elementals with us.¡±

    The Tome patriarch sneered. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a coward.¡±

    ¡°Did you take me for suicidal?¡± Gordon scoffed. ¡°We¡¯ll find some corner to restart in, rebuild our strength. Perhaps Graywatch. No one¡¯s going to fish us out of that cesspool.¡±

    ¡°¡­what if I could give you another option?¡±

    Gordon paused for the appropriate amount of time before asking, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°The summoners of the capital have banded together and we plan to communicate our dissatisfaction to the king in the only way powerful men understand.¡± He smiled.

    [Stand up.]

    ¡°You¡¯re wasting my time,¡± Gordon snapped as he stood.

    ¡°Sit down, Junior.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t be involved in a coup,¡± he sneered.

    ¡°You¡¯re being dramatic. This isn¡¯t a coup. We simply want to demonstrate to those who have forgotten the power of summoning that we are not a group to be trifled with. Now, if you¡¯re not interested in preserving the art for future generations and restoring the respect this kingdom owes us, then you can go run off to that sewer of a city.¡±

    The two men glared at each other until Fen ¡®whispered¡¯ for Gordon to retake his seat. ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± he said slowly. ¡°But if I hear something I don¡¯t like, I¡¯m gone.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Ah.¡± He paused as a maid entered the room carrying two plates. She bowed her head as she set one before Gordon but after setting down the second plate, Jackal caught her wrist. A small tug was all it took to urge her onto his lap. He smiled at Gordon¡¯s frown. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d be accustomed to this much as a Grimoire.¡±

    ¡°Contrary to what the capital thinks, our estate didn¡¯t host orgies every day. Are you going to get to the point?¡±

    Jackal chuckled, a hand rubbing the maid¡¯s stomach. Her eyes squeezed shut, her face lined with tension as she fought to control her expression. ¡°We have a plan but it requires knowledgeable summoners and resources. Your family can offer both.¡±

    ¡°So, you want me to fight the crown for you.¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m offering you the chance to join us in our fight. For too long, we have been used by this kingdom, always belittled. The crown wants to slaughter your elementals. It¡¯s only a matter of time before they come for the summoners themselves. Is that what you want? To be reduced to peasants, if not wiped out entirely? As powerless as the toys your father broke and tossed away without thought?¡± He palmed one of his maid¡¯s breasts, resting his head on her shoulder. ¡°Of course you don¡¯t.¡±

    Gordon watched the man fondle his maid with growing disdain. The act itself didn¡¯t disgust him. Jackal was right, he¡¯d seen and done worse. The woman wasn¡¯t even rejecting his advances, though she also didn¡¯t seem particularly pleased with them. What irked him was that Jackal thought the display would impress him. Or anger him. Not a good start to a partnership.

    [Seven beings have entered the house.]

    What are we going to do?

    [Nothing. Things are getting interesting.]

    ¡°I suppose the thrall is telling you about my friends,¡± Jackal said. ¡°I should mention that if you refuse to work with us voluntarily, we have other ways of convincing you.¡±

    ¡°Do you think you can hurt me and get away with it?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s going to stop us? The rest of your family isn¡¯t happy with you, Gordon Mason. Good job there. I laughed for days after hearing about it.¡±

    Gordon sighed. ¡°Since I apparently don¡¯t have a choice, what is it that you want me to do, partner?¡±

    Jackal grinned. ¡°We need your help with a drakkon.¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 8

    ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± Gordon snapped. He would have continued to berate the older man but the door was thrown open.

    Three men entered the room. Two of them were strangers but he recognized the third as another member of the Tome family. Lou¡¯s father, Luke Tome. Like his brother, he had changed in the intervening months since their last meeting. The physical changes were minor, the wrinkles by his eyes seemingly less pronounced and an upgrade to the quality of his clothes, but his presence was entirely different. Gone were the slouched shoulders and pensive frown. Luke Tome was a man with pride and purpose.

    He frowned as his eyes took in Gordon¡¯s untouched food and the state of his brother, namely the uncomfortable woman seated on his lap. ¡°Forgive him, Gordon,¡± he said evenly. ¡°Having the son of his great enemy here has apparently made my brother stupid. I told him the act was unnecessary but I suppose he couldn¡¯t resist being the terrifying villain for once.¡±

    ¡°Quiet, Luke.¡± With a huff, Jackal shoved the maid off his lap and she hurriedly left the room. ¡°I¡¯m your older brother. Not to mention the head of this family.¡±

    ¡°Long live the Tome patriarch, yes, but I am in charge of this project.¡±

    ¡°The project to summon a creature that would destroy the world given half the chance,¡± Gordon snapped. ¡°Have you all gone crazy? A fucking drakkon is never the answer.¡±

    Luke swore, outright glaring at his brother. ¡°Jackal shouldn¡¯t have spoken on matters that aren¡¯t his concern. He knows nothing.¡±

    Gordon got to his feet. ¡°Well, I know enough about those creatures to get as far away from you people as possible.¡± He contemplated whether to tell the crown about their meeting if he managed to survive. It would only give them more fuel with which to burn the summoning community but it was better than the whole of Harvest burning.

    ¡°Sit down.¡±

    Luke¡¯s order was accompanied by Gordon¡¯s body becoming painfully heavy. He had no choice but to sit as his knees would have buckled if he tried to remain standing a moment longer.

    The two strangers pulled back their hoods, revealing identical faces. Both were young men, not older than his own twenty-one years by Gordon¡¯s estimate, with dark brown hair and narrow black eyes. They were the same in every way except that one had a thin scar over the brow of his left eye.

    The scarred twin put a hand to his chest. ¡°I apologize for the use of force, Lord Mason. We had hoped that this would be a peaceful conversation but we cannot have you walking off holding dangerous misconceptions.¡±

    ¡°Peaceful conversation? Is that why you drugged the food?¡±

    [Easy, pet.]

    Luke, who had pulled out the chair across from Gordon, started. His gaze snapped to his brother. ¡°What did you do?¡±

    Jackal sneered. ¡°A little precaution. When has a Grimoire ever put aside their agenda to do the right thing? You would have let the boy walk out the front door carrying our secrets.¡±

    ¡°What secrets? Somehow, the king is already aware of what we¡¯re planning, or at least enough of it. Besides, we¡¯re not looking for a pawn. We need a partner, someone who willfully cooperates with us. I would think after enduring being suppressed for decades, you would come to detest those methods.¡±

    ¡°Bah! What do you know? Just stick to your summoning circles and leave the¡ª"

    ¡°Everett has placed me in charge,¡± Luke said, a hint of anger entering his voice. At his words, the twins moved closer to the table, a quiet menace. ¡°If you cannot bring yourself to respect me, you will respect his decision or you will leave.¡±

    [Oh~ As expected of Lou¡¯s father. Such pure ambition. No desire for gold, no delusions of grandeur, no lust for women, well, not much. Just a determined will to prove himself. Mm, what an excellent piece.]

    What are you so impressed by? He¡¯s a loser.

    [The less desires a man has, the harder it is to distract him. Someone like him, with a purity of purpose, is the absolute best. If you turn that purpose to your own agenda, nothing will shake him. I am less impressed with the Tome patriarch. Ah ah, what a shame. It seems greatness doesn¡¯t run through the blood.]

    The less impressive Jackal grit his teeth as he stared at his brother hatefully. His hands balled into fists as he leaned back in his chair, slumping in tense silence. What is his problem?

    [He is suffering critical damage to his ego, is all. He thought he would play a much larger role in the summoners¡¯ revolution because of his position. Understandably, this Everett decided to give more power to the actual summoner of the family.]

    Luke cleared his throat. ¡°Enough dramatics. Gordon, we asked you here¡ª"

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°Because you want to band together in the face of the king¡¯s denouncement of summoners,¡± Gordon finished for him. ¡°And I¡¯m not interested in mutual destruction just to make a point. If you were serious, then I¡¯ll be leaving now.¡±

    ¡°Wait, let me speak for a moment. We aren¡¯t a bunch of children throwing a tantrum. We have real ambition. Before these decrees, our group was discussing the possibility of creating a new town, one that focuses on summoners and their families, giving them space and funding to nurture the art.¡±

    ¡°Laudable,¡± Gordon said dryly. ¡°How did you go from settlers to drakkons?¡±

    Luke sighed and rubbed his brows. ¡°Our plan begins with a settlement but some of our more ambitious members spoke of claiming a piece of the continent for ourselves. Mind, this was only spoken as a hypothetical and foreseen decades into the future at that. However, it is a popular thing to discuss. Particularly how we would maintain sovereignty when the crown inevitably took offense.¡± He hesitated. ¡°Of course, the use of certain elementals entered the discussion. Drakkons were included as a possibility.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you lose me.¡± Gordon shook his head. ¡°Drakkons are never a possibility. They don¡¯t protect, they subjugate.¡±

    Luke frowned. ¡°I am well aware of their nature. Remember, we spoke of it as a hypothetical. Along with two dozen other strategies that had an equally abysmal chance of being realized. However, somehow, the crown was made to believe that we are planning to usurp the throne or some other nonsense and are striking first.¡±

    He sighed. ¡°Unfortunately, that leaves us in a predicament. We¡¯ve reached the point where no one is going to believe us if we say, ¡®haha, sorry, it was just a joke¡¯. The crown thinks there¡¯s a drakkon, whether there is one or not. After a round of discussion, we decided it would be best to give them what they expect and obscure our real plans.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright. You sound less crazy now.¡±

    ¡°Good. Jackal? Do you think you could have the poor girl from earlier bring us something to drink without ripping her dress off?¡±

    The older man sneered. ¡°Mary!¡± The door opened a moment after his bellow, the maid from earlier stepping just inside and bowing her head. ¡°Bring us that Herbanacle and a few glasses.¡± He raised his nose as the maid left. ¡°You may not know it, but Herbanacle is exclusively served by the Golden Feathers hotels. The Guiness family doesn¡¯t sell it in their stores. Several bottles were delivered as a gift.¡±

    What is this old bastard bragging about? It was obvious he wanted to show off his connection to the wealthy merchants but everyone knew the connection wasn¡¯t his to claim. Marquis Guiness wanted Lou and her wife. If he had any consideration for the rest of the Tome family, it was an afterthought.

    [Poor Jackal~ Long has he wanted to wield the true power of a noble, to be recognized. Yet everyone is recognized over him. His niece who he belittled. His younger brother who he always underestimated. Even you, who managed to retain your power despite your father¡¯s perceived treason. You should be a little nicer to him, pet~ If someone isn¡¯t, I¡¯m afraid he won¡¯t last long.]

    ¡°One of the only gifts my daughter has given me that I appreciate. Probably the only gift she¡¯s given me. Little brat.¡±Luke¡¯s lips briefly turned up in a smile before pressing down in his usual frown. ¡°She still hasn¡¯t responded?¡±

    Jackal scoffed. ¡°Not a word. Too busy spending the Guiness gold to care about her family.¡±

    ¡°¡­you have always looked down on me, brother. Something that may not be undeserved.¡± Luke shook his head. ¡°In the end, all my efforts didn¡¯t amount to much. However, I warn you not to make the same mistake with my daughter. She takes after her mother more than me. I bet she sensed trouble and decided to cut us off.¡±

    ¡°Whatever her reasons, she abandoned us.¡±

    The maid returned with the bottle of Herbanacle, a pitcher of water, and five glasses. She poured for the table, the twins waving off the alcohol, before Jackal waved for her to leave. Gordon sipped his drink, marveling how a taste he could best describe as woody was somehow pleasant and how the drink warmed his body from head to toe. ¡°So, tell how this plan of yours isn¡¯t going to get a lot of people, including us, killed,¡± Gordon demanded.

    Luke downed the rest of his glass and set it aside. ¡°Our plan is to split up. The main group will continue with our original plan and relocate to form a village of summoners where we can dedicate ourselves to the art. A small group will remain in the capital as decoys. They will summon the drakkon before fleeing.¡±

    ¡°How the hell do you expect them to get away?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t give away the details yet.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Then tell me how you plan to handle the rampaging drakkon. Do you know how many people that thing will kill?¡±

    ¡°I think you may be overestimating their ability. Sure, they are powerful. However, most of their strength comes from their size and durability. Their magical gifts are marginal compared to their coefficients. The royal knights are more than capable of driving it off before it can do too much damage. We originally planned to stop it by slaying its summoner if it proved too destructive. However, your cooperation allows for a different strategy.¡±

    Gordon¡¯s eyes narrowed as Fen¡¯s laughter filled his mind. [Incredible! I love it!]

    ¡°As you know, a large coefficient provides a natural defense against spells that utilize mana intrusion. For that reason, it is difficult for a mental caster to affect anyone stronger than them. No human caster could hope to control a drakkon but¡­a succubus might. Or perhaps, multiple succubi working together.¡±

    ¡°You¡­want to summon a drakkon and use thralls to control it?¡±

    ¡°A virtue supported by thralls, more realistically.¡± Luke leaned forward. ¡°I¡¯ve read some of your family¡¯s summoning records. Succubi are incredibly efficient with their spells and have successfully subjugated stronger opponents. Also, they can work together in ways human casters cannot. Mental casters are incredibly wary of one another but there is no such caution amongst succubi, as they readily submit to those stronger than them. I¡¯ve concluded that they are the best chance of controlling a drakkon. And that is only the beginning.¡±

    If enslaving a creature capable of leveling the capital was the beginning, Gordon didn¡¯t want to see the next step. He opened his mouth to refuse but an invisible force took hold of his jaw. Then his mouth moved on its own, Fen speaking through him. ¡°Interesting. If we were to do this, my family would have control of the drakkon. Aren¡¯t you afraid of what I can do with that power?¡±

    ¡°We will retain control of the summoner. Should you attempt to misuse your power, we will slit their throat. An arrangement the prospective summoner has already agreed to.¡±

    ¡°¡­impressive.¡±

    ¡°We are quite serious, Gordon. This is a historical endeavor and it will be happening with or without you. You need to decide if you want to be a part of the change or forgotten the same as our ancestors. What will it be?¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 9

    ¡°You¡¯re forgetting something,¡± Gordon said, still being manipulated by the thrall beside him.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°The king found out about your plans. Either someone was an idiot or you¡¯ve got a traitor in your midst.¡± Invisible hands pulled his lips into a cocky smile. ¡°My family has a reputation for recklessly invading people¡¯s minds. You want me to hunt down this weasel.¡±

    Luke raised a hand. ¡°Actually, no. We¡¯re already handling that.¡±

    ¡°Whoever you¡¯ve got, I¡¯m better.¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but I don¡¯t trust you. You haven¡¯t even agreed to my original offer.¡± The older summoner glared at him. ¡°Baby steps, Gordon. I may be one of the calmer members of my family but it is by no means easy for me to take the hand of a Grimoire, no matter what fancy reforms he makes.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡± Gordon inwardly cursed as his hand was raised. ¡°There isn¡¯t much choice, is there? We have an alliance.¡±

    Luke reached across the table to shake his hand, smiling faintly. ¡°Two of the oldest summoning families locked in a bitter rivalry for generations now joining hands. As I said, history.¡±

    You¡¯re a little late. Our families are already cooperating, in the loosest sense of the word. He had to wonder how bad the relationship between Lou and her father was that she hadn¡¯t bothered to tell him that she¡¯d subjugated their enemies. It would have made this whole trip redundant, as she could have simply ordered him to cooperate with her father and whoever Everett was.

    Then, a truly terrible thought hit him. These people wanted his thralls to command the drakkon based off the assumption he controlled the thralls. One he didn¡¯t fault them for. Contracts were absolute and who had ever heard of a Grimoire, now Mason, losing control of his succubus? If he weren¡¯t living it, he¡¯d never believe it. And he never forgot the cause of the problem the way Fen glorified that deviant Lou. Fen controlled him but Lou controlled her, which ultimately meant she would control a drakkon.

    As if enough power hasn¡¯t fallen into that woman¡¯s hands.

    Saints protect them, Gordon couldn¡¯t decide if it was better or worse than the succubi controlling it.

    ¡°And we all skip off into a happy future,¡± Jackal grumbled. He downed the remnants of his glass and poured a refill. He raised his cup, sloshing some of the amber liquid over the side. ¡°To Gordon Grimoire, who no doubt is turning in his early grave. He once said, as long as the Grimoires lived, he¡¯d see us fall. Truer words never spoken.¡±

    ¡°Really, brother?¡± Luke sighed.

    ¡°Come on, Junior. A toast to the last Grimoire.¡±

    Gordon felt the invisible hold on his body ease. Ah, she¡¯s letting me handle this. He felt a moment of gratitude, which was quickly overwhelmed by a wave of disgust for feeling anything but hate for his tormentor.

    He raised his neglected drink. ¡°To the last Grimoire.¡± He took a moment to relish the Tome brothers¡¯ surprise. Then he hurled the glass at Jackal¡¯s face.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± the patriarch shouted as he pitched to the side, one hand going to his face. Gordon grinned savagely as he watched the man¡¯s fingers hover over the shards of glass embedded in his skin, blood dripping down his face in thin rivulets and staining the white collar of his shirt.

    ¡°¡­I will admit he deserved that but please don¡¯t escalate. I don¡¯t want to make history twice by forming the shortest alliance in the world.¡±

    ¡°Little bastard!¡± Jackal stumbled to his feet, propping himself up against the far wall. ¡°I¡¯ll have your head!¡± he snarled.

    ¡°Don¡¯t work yourself up, brother, or the blood will flow faster,¡± Luke said dryly. ¡°You got what you asked for. Now, are you going to be sensible and ask the man to heal you or¡ª"

    ¡°Get this little asshole out of my house!¡± the elder Tome roared.

    ¡°As expected. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll have to ask you to leave, Gordon, before my brother manages to do something else he¡¯ll regret.¡± Luke stood from his chair. ¡°We¡¯ll be in touch with more details,¡± he said as he moved toward Jackal.

    With a huff, Gordon stomped away. The last thing he heard as the dining room door closed was the two brothers arguing. A part of him wanted to linger, to grasp a few more details, but Fen¡¯s mental prodding kept him moving.

    [Quickly, pet. We¡¯ve much to do.]

    With Fen hurrying him, they were soon on their carriage and riding into the night. Gordon¡¯s gut clenched with dread as he watched the succubus across from him practically bounce in excitement. ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you?¡± he grumbled.

    ¡°Master looked very handsome tonight~¡± [Shush. Someone is tailing us.]

    You think they can hear us? he thought, while his mouth was forced to say, ¡°Aren¡¯t I handsome every night? Hmph. It was just showing a fool his place.¡±

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    ¡°As you say~¡± [Perhaps. Perhaps not. There is no need to take unnecessary risks like fools. This is far too important. Ah~ So much to do. Lady Geneva is going to love this.]

    What are you getting all excited for? It¡¯s just a drakkon. And they plan on keeping the summoner with them. A move Gordon respected them for, a little. He still thought they were insane summoning the damn thing in the first place and he doubted it was just to serve as a decoy.

    He very much doubted the king would be unhappy if they didn¡¯t throw a hill-sized flying snake at him. No, these summoners wanted to make a point. If anything, the more radical members had simply used the situation to convince the more reluctant of their group.

    [People always underestimate us. Jackal had two artifacts, one to detect the use of the mental affinity and the other to shield him from mental intrusion. I assume the rest had similar things. While intrusion is the most common application of the mental affinity, there exists many more. For example~ You are aware that people project their thoughts?]

    It¡¯s in the family¡¯s records about thralls. Though if asked for details, Gordon wouldn¡¯t have an answer.

    [It¡¯s nothing remarkable. Just as the sun projects heat, the mind projects your thoughts. Everyone can sense it to some degree. Such as the times you¡¯ve turned around to find someone staring at you. Or your instincts have warned you off another. It is simply you subconsciously reacting to their thoughts. It¡¯s an ability that can be trained even without the mental affinity.]

    Hm. What does that have to do with you looking so smug with yourself?

    The thrall smiled wider. [They sought to keep me out of their minds but did nothing to quiet themselves. So, rather than break down the walls shielding their minds, I made myself more receptive to their ¡®thought projections¡¯ we¡¯ll call them. It is far less accurate than reading them directly but between the four, I have a very good picture of why they truly want you. Or us, should I say.]

    And?

    [It¡¯s quite remarkable. Their plan was meant to take place over decades. You see, the summoners don¡¯t want one drakkon. They want an army of them.]

    Impossible. It¡¯s pushing it to believe that you all can subdue one, even working together. Two? Five? We¡¯re all dead, without a doubt.

    The thrall giggled. [Ah, but humans have already tamed wild beasts and monsters. They even tamed each other, once upon a time, before they banded together against the other races. A method they hope to use again.]

    What?

    [You don¡¯t want to guess, pet? I¡¯ll give you a reward if you get it right~]

    Gordon was unsettled by what the thrall might consider a ¡®reward¡¯ but his mind whirled as he sought the answer. He didn¡¯t know what she meant by taming men, except perhaps through gold, but when it came to beasts, he had witnessed a little as a boy when he thought to have a monster for a pet.

    His father had taken him to a monster stable but rather than receiving his new companion, it became another lesson. Monsters were as dangerous as elementals. One mistake could mean your life and the lives of others. Tamers captured them young and raised them strictly, but even then, it was difficult to break their natural instin¡ª

    He paled as a thought came to him. We tame monsters by taking the children. They¡­they want drakkon children?

    [Exactly! Good boy~ But your answer is a little lacking.]

    But¡­but that¡¯s impossible! A drakkon child has never answered a summons! He could count the number of species whose adolescents could be summoned on one hand. Whatever process they went through to answer inter-realm calls was restricted to adulthood for the overwhelming majority.

    [And that is why¡ª]

    Gordon would have cursed, and possibly slammed his head against the wall of the carriage, if he had control of his body. Instead, his anger was contained to his mind, where he released a violent stream of harsh words. That¡¯s why they want you! Succubi are the easiest summons to contract with both the physical affinity and the mental affinity! They want you to birth the damn things!

    [Father, more likely. It requires changing a bit too much of ourselves to be able to deliver a drakkon¡¯s eggs. Not to insult your gender but females generally have the more complicated reproduction organs across many species.

    [It doesn¡¯t end at fathering the children. They want us to use the mental affinity to condition them. An adult drakkon at the height of their power may be hard to control but a child growing up in our clutches?] She trailed off into mental laughter.

    Across from her, Gordon trembled. Those idiots! Those fucking idiots! They¡¯re giving the creatures a fucking army! Why? Why can no one see what they¡¯re doing? Why is no one stopping this? Are they really that good? Are we truly that incompetent? The king is worried about the equivalent of goblin bandits while these creatures are posed to take over the world! Or at least Harvest.

    He doubted they would have their run of the world. If no one else could stop them, there were the dragons. Humans had few accounts of the world¡¯s sovereigns but it was clear that a conflict amongst them had shattered the continent where they lived, rendering the land into the smattering of islands known as the Dragon Isles. The fleeing lesser draconids had attacked other species and forced them from their homes, setting off the Great War. That kind of power couldn¡¯t be toppled with mere schemes.

    Ah. So, it is us, he thought, defeated. We are that weak, that insignificant. There are thousands and thousands of races across the realms. What does fate care if we are to perish? It could be worse. The succubi don¡¯t seem to want to exterminate us. And Lou won¡¯t let them do anything truly heinous. Whatever her faults, she has a conscience. Can¡¯t believe the future of humanity rests on the goodwill of that deviant.

    Gordon felt a bit of regret. Just like his father, he had made it his mission to torment the Tome family, namely Lou as they were close in age. He made sure to poison their peers against her, making them the objects of ridicule if they refused. He insulted her relentlessly. Once, his father had suggested an engagement between them. At the next banquet he attended, he loudly and graphically declared how he would rather bed all manner of farm animals than be married to her.

    All the while, Lou stood beside her frowning father, hands balled in the hem of her dress. She never cried, not once. It didn¡¯t matter if he threw sticky foods in her hair or shoved her to the ground. She simply stared at him with cold, hateful eyes until her father dragged her away.

    He didn¡¯t know what Lou did to sway the loyalty of the succubi but it had to be drastic. She undoubtedly crossed several ethical lines to appeal to the cruel creatures. Lines she may not have been able to cross if he hadn¡¯t done everything in his power to tear her down. Or, if this was her fate, a little kindness when they were children might have left her a kinder woman. Saints knew he expected little mercy, if any, from the woman she grew into.

    [You¡¯re right to feel regret,] Fen mocked. [We will gift this world to her and she will gift herself to us. Ah~ I only wish I could be there to give the news personally.]

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 10

    Sir Quintana gazed on the Summer Quarter with a mixture of relief and wonder. The modest house he grew up in held fond memories but he was too eager to escape the struggles of peasantry to ever consider it his home. The first year after he joined the royal army, he shared a room in the barracks with the other three members of his squad during training. Afterwards, his missions kept him on the move, living out of tents and the odd inn.

    When he was accepted into the royal knights and given a room on the grounds, it was the first place he¡¯d considered home. He balked at the political games that transpired between the palace and its spires, but he had grown to love the luxury, the lavish balls, and the deference. He had fought long and hard to join the elites and he enjoyed every moment of his reward.

    When he was younger, he saw himself building a life at the king¡¯s side. Perhaps marrying one of the lesser noble women sent to the palace to serve the women of the royal family, establish himself as a true noble. Raise a son to carry on his name, maybe sell himself to one of the prissy knight orders of the capital and train a few brats who wanted to fight their way to a better life, same as him.

    Things didn¡¯t turn out the way he¡¯d hoped but he loved the palace all the same. He respected the king and cared for his family, especially the children he had seen grown up. He¡¯d even helped trained Dowager, the first prince, sparking his zeal for martial arts and appreciation for the soldiers of the kingdom.

    That was why his failure killed him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the king, the royal family, or the country.

    The designers of the capital were fond of their walls. A wall of spotless white stone surrounded the palace and its courtyard. Nearly two centuries ago, a more fanciful king commissioned a famous artist to paint the wall with drawings of beautiful creatures and powerful monsters. He died under mysterious circumstances less than a year later, his younger brother assuming the throne. A far more pragmatic king, he sent away the artist and washed away the ¡°disgrace¡±. The only thing left of the debacle were a few etches in the stone where the artist had chiseled into it to give his work more depth.

    Two men dressed in golden armor stood before the grand arched entrance, the double doors thrown open. They were left open during the day, as there was far too much traffic to bother with the lengthy process of opening and closing them. The crown trusted its knights, handpicked from the best the kingdom had to offer, to provide ample security.

    Joining their ranks meant more than being able to swing a sword or launch a spell. The royal knights secured royal banquets, noble weddings, and other events that required them to be fluent in the customs of the highborn. They were taught the names of all the important characters and how to discern the motives behind their often misleadingly flamboyant behaviors. No one untoward tricked their way into the king¡¯s home. Sentry duty was one of the most important tasks of the royal guard, superseded only by shadowing members of the royal family.

    Their golden helms hid their features, leaving their identities a mystery. A raised gauntlet halted him as he approached, one of the sentries stepping forward to examine his carriage while the other offered Sir Quintana a sharp nod of acknowledgement.

    One of the younger knights then. The older members who¡¯d served alongside him wouldn¡¯t have bothered stopping him, but he didn¡¯t expect them to be on the gate. Standing around for hours was a job for the young. It was a great way to cowl egos.

    ¡°Identity and reason for visiting?¡± the second sentry asked while the first opened the door to his carriage.

    ¡°Manuel Reis Quintana. I am here to see the king.¡± From his pocket, he pulled out a small golden badge. Engraved on the front was the head of a buck beneath a sun, the old crest of the royal family. Channeling a little mana into it made the badge shine, a simple fire spell and proof of authenticity.

    Something issued to every member of the royal knights, only to be used amongst themselves. It was the fastest way to confirm the identity of one of their members for those in the know and allowed them to travel without carrying extensive papers detailing their assignments, which could be dangerous. Even after retiring, the king had given him special permission to retain custody of the badge, as he often handled ¡°delicate¡± tasks for his old friend.

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    ¡°Welcome to the palace, Sir Quintana.¡±

    The second sentry retreated from the carriage and they both stepped aside. They took another step as he cracked the reins and his fevids flared up, radiating an intense heat as they started forward, trotting into the palace¡¯s main courtyard.

    He took care to stick to the middle of the road. While impolite, he thought it better he be a small inconvenience than allow his beasts of burden to accidentally eradicate the delicate artistry of the royal gardener. Luckily, there was no one else entering or leaving the palace grounds, despite him spending a little extra time on the road in order to reach the special stables capable of housing his preferred mounts.

    Someone waited for him at the door to the stables as he exited, a gray-haired man with a soldier¡¯s posture and the grooming of a nobleman, dressed in an impeccable black and white suit. Sir Quintana grimaced seeing him but quickly covered it with a neutral mask. ¡°Ed.¡±

    Edward, aide to the king and insufferable nag, sniffed imperiously. ¡°The king is awaiting you.¡±

    ¡°I would like a moment to¡ª"

    ¡°His Majesty is aware that you have been traveling extensively but this is a matter that cannot wait. If you would follow me.¡±

    The manservant turned on his heel, fully expecting Sir Quintana to follow. And, despite having the power to snap the other man in two, he did, for Edward spoke with the voice of the king, which was a power of its own. A prime example of a man given power through a title, though perhaps not entirely undeserved. He had competently aided the king and his father for decades, a rock in a place where loyalties ebbed and flowed like the tide.

    When most thought of the palace, they imagined a grand building filled to the brim with gold and priceless treasures. They couldn¡¯t be blamed, as most had never set foot on the palace grounds. There was extensive wealth on display, from the plush carpets, masterwork paintings, and banners woven from expensive silk, but foremost the palace was a defensive structure. The luxuries were measures to soften the harsh stone and narrow corridors meant to hold off a siege.

    Due to their haste, they didn¡¯t see many faces and spared no greetings for those they did. Sir Quintana felt a wave of nostalgia as they ascended to the second floor. He had spent most of his tenure as a royal knight in these halls, as it held many of the more functional rooms in the palace, including the king¡¯s study.

    That was where Edward led him. He knocked sharply before announcing, ¡°I have brought Manuel.¡±

    ¡°Enter!¡± a powerful voice called.

    Edward held open the door, allowing the knight to proceed him into the room. It was the same as he remembered, the stone floor covered in a plush red carpet, the fearsome skull of the drakkon slain by Dunwayne on the left wall as a reminder of humanity¡¯s strength, and the other wall covered by bookcases as a reminder of humanity¡¯s knowledge. Knowledge that had been found wanting.

    Sebastian kor Harvest looked up from the papers on his desk and reclined in his chair. He had the frame of a soldier, with strong arms and broad shoulders, despite having spent no time on the battlefield. His face had a few more wrinkles and his white hair, a distinct trait of the noble family, had a few more streaks of gray where age had dulled the color¡¯s vibrancy, but the biggest change was his eyes.

    The blue irises were made even more vivid by the reddened whites beside them and lacked their usual energy. It would be unbecoming to mention it, but Sir Quintana was sure if he took a wet rag to the man¡¯s face, it would come away with the powder used to hide the dark bags under them.

    Still, Sebastian mustered a smile for him. ¡°Reis.¡±

    The knight bowed at the waist. ¡°Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°We are beyond formalities, my friend.¡± Sir Quintana looked up as he heard a chair being pushed back. The king moved toward him with a hand outstretched. The knight clasped it, smiling ruefully as his friend clapped his shoulder. ¡°You got a chance to see Bobby, yeah? How is he?¡±

    ¡°Good as can be expected. That mess¡­it hit him hard but he¡¯s strong. Stronger than he knows.¡±

    ¡°With four affinities, it¡¯s only a matter of time before he is stronger than us all.¡±

    Sir Quintana fought the urge to frown. That wasn¡¯t the kind of strength he meant. Too many people focused on the boy¡¯s magical talent. When he thought of his adopted son¡¯s strength, he thought of the little boy in the capital¡¯s youth tournament, holding his own against opponent¡¯s twice his age and size through pure grit. In recent years, Robert had lost that edge, that desperation to succeed and prove himself no matter the cost.

    He hoped the harsh realities of the north would shatter his false confidence and give the knight back the hungry kid he¡¯d seen so much potential in.

    ¡°We can exchange chatter later. I believe you have news for me.¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 11

    Edward stepped over to a drinks tray seated at the edge of the king¡¯s desk. He poured two glasses of water, handing them to the two men. Sir Quintana gulped his down and passed the glass back to the servant. There was no point in dragging the conversation out.

    ¡°I successfully met with Kierra Atainna and delivered the package.¡±

    ¡°¡­from your expression, I assume she didn¡¯t take to it as favorably as I¡¯d hoped.¡±

    The knight winced. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have good news, my king.¡±

    Sebastian heaved a heavy sigh. He slowly walked back to his chair, dropping into it heavily and waving for the other man to continue.

    ¡°In her own words, the attempt to buy her loyalties is a personal insult and no king can command her to appear before him.¡±

    The king rubbed his brow. ¡°Command her? I went out of my way to make that damn invitation as unauthoritative as possible, as she¡¯s made it clear she doesn¡¯t respect our titles. Despite being a guest in my kingdom.¡± He sighed. ¡°I offer her a gift to show a relationship between our people can be profitable and somehow, that is a personal insult? I don¡¯t understand that woman.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid it gets worse. The seed¡­.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± The king went through the papers on his desk, grabbing one. ¡°From the different accounts in the time of the First King, it was understood that the seed came from a sacred tree, a prized plant of the elves. There was never any hint as to its properties and no success in growing it.¡± He tossed the paper away. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me it was actually the seed of a common weed or some other nonsense.¡±

    ¡°No. The seed is from their Sacred Tree. As in, a tree that supposedly hosts the spirit that birthed their entire race.¡±

    King made a contemplative noise. ¡°Would that not make it more valuable?¡±

    ¡°It was apparently given as a test. Giving it back is, apparently, a spit in the face to their generosity and the worse possible way to fail this supposed test. An unrivaled insult to the whole of their race¡­enough for them to declare war.¡±

    The king sucked in a sharp breath.

    ¡°Fortunately, her wife has spoken up for us. Orphelia Yemen assures me that Lourianne Tome is up to the task of calming her.¡±

    ¡°Where is the girl?¡±

    ¡°With her father. I thought it best to give you the chance to react without her or her father in the room.¡±

    Sebastian grunted. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to make of that family. They can be useful but even the best snake charmer is vulnerable handling a viper. One day, that man will bite my wrist but he makes sure he¡¯s too useful to simply toss aside.¡±

    His fingers tapped an agitated rhythm on the desk. ¡°The question now is who to blame for this. Easiest to pin it on our foreign relations adviser, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°We have a foreign relations adviser?¡±

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    ¡°We do now. Or, we did. His employment under the crown will have to be re-evaluated in the face of this failure. Given the state of things, I can¡¯t help asking myself if this was done on purpose. The man practically begged for the job.¡±

    ¡°Was he suspicious?¡±

    ¡°As suspicious as every other ambitious second son. He has some renown amongst the scholars of the capital and an interest in the records before the Great War. Better, he had no allegiances, which is rare to come by. There were few I could trust with the duty. Of course, there is also the possibility that no matter what we did, we were doomed to fail.¡±

    ¡°¡­you still believe that the elf is a spy?¡±

    ¡°It is a theory I am unwilling to relinquish without sufficient proof. On the one hand, her refusal to accept any invitations to the palace could be taken as innocence, as a spy should want to get close to me. On the other hand, it could be taken as contempt. Orion, our likely former foreign relations adviser, discovered a few documents that show there may have been a relationship between the elves and the old goblinoid warbands. It¡¯s not clear how that translates to the present.¡±

    The king slapped his desk. ¡°An official presence isn¡¯t going to do the situation any good. The Yemen girl is already in place. Samuel will be returning to the Hall as well. If subtle doesn¡¯t work with the elf, we¡¯ll have to be direct with the Tome girl. If she truly has that much sway with her wife, then tying her more securely to the kingdom will naturally build a bridge to the elves. If only it were so easy to tie her down. Even the Guiness are having trouble on that front.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure Samuel is the right one to make friends? I have little experience with Lourianne Tome but it was made abundantly clear to me that her appreciation lies solely in women. Perhaps¡­¡± He hesitated to share his thought, as it bordered on insult.

    ¡°The elf is tomorrow¡¯s problem. We have plenty to deal with today.¡± He sighed. ¡°¡­you fucked up, Reis.¡±

    The knight winced. ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡±

    ¡°This assignment was supposed to shut up the troublemakers but you¡¯ve delivered them all the weapons they need to bring you down.¡± He held up a hand, forestalling any comment. ¡°I know it isn¡¯t your fault but that¡¯s not how it will seem. However, I have planned for this. Edward, fetch Dowager.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Sir Quintana asked as the door shut behind the servant.

    ¡°I can¡¯t have the royal knights questioned, even a former one. Since our attempts at diplomacy have failed, we shall have to prove your dedication to the kingdom the old-fashioned way. There is a horde of goblinoids about to invade our kingdom. My son could use a few accomplishments under his belt before he takes the throne and there is no one I would trust more to watch his back.¡±

    Sir Quintana frowned. ¡°I¡¯m a little too old to be sent on subjugations, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°Too bad. This time, it¡¯s an order.¡± Sebastian smiled. ¡°Those old bones have a little life in them still.¡±

    ¡°Old? I¡¯m three years your junior.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, old.¡± The king raised a hand, opening and closing a fist. ¡°With all the problems raining on my head, I have to wonder if I missed something I wouldn¡¯t have if I still had the same focus of my younger days. When I dreamed of being king as a boy, I imagined the great deeds I would do. How I would single-handedly save the kingdom from disaster after disaster. There were so many things I thought I could accomplish as soon as I became the most powerful man on the continent.¡±

    He grunted. ¡°Only to find out that the king is simply a man who sits on his ass and mediates conflicts between a dozen children who call themselves nobles.¡±

    The knight nodded. He understood. When he was growing up, he thought being a soldier would find him fighting epic battles against powerful monsters, not collecting taxes and warding off beasts better described as pests. It had its bard-worthy moments but they were few and far between.

    The same could be said about his tenure as a royal knight. While he enjoyed that life, he thought there would be more glory. Instead, he spent his days standing around looking important or chatting with the king.

    A few imbeciles had caused disturbances but in the two decades he served as a royal knight, no one had dared to raise a hand against the royal family.

    Humanity had become unambitious during the extended peace.

    ¡°Now, when the kingdom faces its first true crisis, I find myself asking for the peaceful days to continue. How fickle fate is.¡±

    A knock interrupted them before Sir Quintana could respond.

    ¡°Enter!¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 12

    A young man entered the room. His hair was not quite the white of the royal family, more of a bright silver, too bright to be mistaken for a sign of premature aging and just as eye-catching. His light skin was tanned from many hours training under a strong sun, taking advantage of the powerful physique inherited from his father. His light brown eyes swept the room before he bowed to his father. ¡°Father. Sir Quintana.¡±

    ¡°Dowager.¡±

    ¡°Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°Then? How went relations with the elf?¡± He frowned at the knight¡¯s grimace. ¡°Not well, I take it.¡±

    ¡°We hoped for better but the matter has been laid to rest,¡± Sebastian said. ¡°I called you to discuss something else.¡± He undid the tie on a rolled-up piece of parchment, showing a vague map of the kingdom. He waved for them to join him. ¡°I¡¯ve decided to accept your proposal to lead the forces intercepting the hordes of Green Mountain.¡±

    Dowager grinned, slamming a fist into his hand. ¡°You won¡¯t regret this, Father.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I won¡¯t. Reis has agreed to accompany you.¡±

    The smile wilted. ¡°I do not need a nanny.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s a good thing one isn¡¯t coming,¡± Sir Quintana scoffed. ¡°I won¡¯t be there to wipe your ass. The less I do, the better. From what the Guiness have been saying, these are nothing but foot soldiers. You don¡¯t need me for that and I¡¯m too old to show off.¡±

    Some of the tension in the prince¡¯s shoulders eased. ¡°Fine by me. We¡¯ll teach these monsters to stay off our continent.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t put too much stock in the merchant¡¯s words,¡± the king cautioned. ¡°We are still not sure of his loyalties.¡±

    ¡°Surely he would not sell the kingdom to another race.¡±

    ¡°Enough gold can sway any man¡¯s heart and it has been a long time since the Great War. We are no longer the same united people under the First King.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I can only blame myself for not having eyes on their expeditions. The man is exceedingly thorough in vetting his employees and ruthless to traitors.¡± He sighed. ¡°If he can be believed, the invaders will come by the southeast shore.¡± He stabbed at a place on the map.

    ¡°The wetlands?¡± Dowager questioned, leaning forward. ¡°That isn¡¯t a good place to moor boats, is it?¡±

    ¡°Who knows? And the good marquis conveniently is ignorant as to their vessels and strategies.¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t know the vessels of his trading partners?¡± the prince asked slowly.

    ¡°Now you understand my hesitance to trust the good merchant,¡± his father said dryly.

    Sir Quintana made a thoughtful noise. ¡°I¡¯ve been there for a subjugation. Terrible place. Marching through the thick mud is more tiring than the fight itself and the damp will kill you before anything else. If you have the option, you don¡¯t want to fight them there.¡±

    ¡°Then what do you suggest?¡± Dowager asked. ¡°We can¡¯t let them push into the continent. They won¡¯t get far but who knows what damage they can do.¡±

    ¡°Those aren¡¯t the only options. If you can¡¯t fight them on land, fight them on the water.¡±

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    The prince scowled. ¡°The army is useless on the ocean.¡±

    ¡°You want to enlist the city of Graywatch,¡± the king said.

    ¡°The pirates and cutthroats? They have no place in the defense of the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re the best sailors on the continent and they¡¯ve got experience in sea battles,¡± the knight argued. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t trust any man from that place to hold my loose change but they honor their contracts. Oathbreakers don¡¯t live long.¡±

    ¡°How will they reach the east?¡± the king asked. ¡°The Enchanted Forest blocks the way between us and the elves. They can¡¯t sail north. The lords of the north freeze the waters surrounding their land. Nothing has ever come back from that way.¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re quick about it, we can bring their boats across land.¡±

    The king barked out a laugh. ¡°You expect a grayman to let someone take control of his ship? They¡¯d sooner slap their mothers.¡±

    ¡°Pay them more.¡±

    ¡°Do you mean to bankrupt the crown?¡±

    ¡°Guiness is footing the bill for this, are they not?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and he will have a small army at his beck and call. As if the man isn¡¯t hard enough to deal with. You¡¯re deluding yourself if you think the grays will obediently go back to their city after the fighting is done. They¡¯ll terrorize the coastal towns, spreading their infection. Probably at the Guiness bastard¡¯s request. Then he¡¯ll find some way to blame it on me. No.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t need pirates. Can you imagine the chaos if they decide to turn on us?¡± Dowager scoffed. ¡°We can fight in the wetlands. If there is water, we use water casters.¡±

    Sir Quintana shook his head. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re getting into.¡±

    ¡°I agree with my son. Perhaps it is better to fight the goblinoids on the sea but that would only be if we had crews we trusted to sail the ships. Secure the coast, draft some local villagers to survey the land and help the soldiers acclimate.¡±

    The knight scoffed.

    ¡°I know you think this is a mistake, Reis, but¡ª"

    ¡°I will abide the decisions made by the crown. I still suggest you let me contact of few members of Graywatch, those I can trust to keep their contracts. They still have the best water casters outside the Guiness Company and the Hall.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s an idea,¡± Dowager said, eyes bright with excitement. ¡°Why not call on the Grand Hall? Wind casters can be just as effective on the sea.¡±

    His father grimaced. ¡°Our relations with the Hall are tense at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Because of my cousin.¡±

    ¡°It is not just about Sebas. There were also the matters of Samuel and the Pottoculli boy.¡± The king massaged his temples. ¡°The nobles are clamoring that I¡¯ve been too lenient with Dunwayne and the Harvest Hero is understandably upset with the trouble in his school. Asking him for a favor now would be unwise.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± the prince asked, brows furrowed.

    ¡°Because of how much Dunwayne can ask for in return,¡± Sir Quintana said with distaste. He had no love for the political maneuverings of those in power but he understood them. ¡°Worse, it¡¯ll make your father seem weak. People are scared.¡± Scared enough to call into question honorable knights like himself. ¡°Scared people do stupid things.¡±

    ¡°And if they think I am too weak to control them, all sorts of devious agendas will be pushed forward,¡± Sebastian continued. ¡°We need to handle this and we need to do it by ourselves.¡±

    Dowager held his chin as he thought. ¡°Can we at least reach out to the hunter guilds? I¡¯m sure there is at least one that has experience with the area and its dangers.¡±

    ¡°Good idea,¡± the knight said, nodding in approval. He would have suggested it next if the prince hadn¡¯t.

    ¡°Hiring them as advisers is acceptable. Minimize their presence. This must be a victory for the royal army and the crown.¡±

    ¡°What about the royal knights?¡± Sir Quintana asked. ¡°A few more trump cards will be good.¡±

    ¡°No. People will notice their absence. They are meant to protect the palace. If they depart, people will either think I am overestimating the threat and call me a coward or they will think the invasion is a threat necessitating our strongest fighters and panic.¡±

    As a former soldier, Sir Quintana could only be disgusted that so many considerations were limiting the king¡¯s decisions. They were talking about the defense of the kingdom and the lives of its citizens. Their enemies should be crushed with their full force, damn the consequences or appearances.

    ¡°What about Robert?¡± Dowager grinned. ¡°What is my martial brother doing? The next few months should be time off from his studies. A good time to get him bloodied.¡±

    And what would you know about it? Sir Quintana cared for the prince, to the point he¡¯d might consider him an apprentice, but he certainly had his own brand of arrogance. Or perhaps a misplaced eagerness. He very much believed the prince had romanticized war and hoped he would recover from those delusions before they got him into serious trouble.

    ¡°I agree he needs a little more experience. That is why I¡¯m sending him to the Bleak Peaks.¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 13

    ¡°Did you say the Bleak Peaks?¡± Sebastian asked slowly rising from his chair, tone cold enough to freeze blood. He scowled as Sir Quintana nodded. ¡°Have you lost your mind, Reis?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t. Are we not having problems now because of our soldiers¡¯ lack of experience? If you want Robert to grow into the next Harvest Hero, he needs a fight and an attitude adjustment. Soldiers are forged on battlefields.¡±

    ¡°Then follow Dowager¡¯s suggestion! Have him fight alongside you. Don¡¯t hand him off to Victory like a prized stallion!¡± The king slammed a fist on his desk. ¡°You know how big of a pain in my side James is. If Bobby doesn¡¯t get himself killed, it would be a shitstorm of saintly proportion if Fort Victory were to get their hands on him.¡±

    ¡°His loyalty will not swing to another at the drop of a helm. He isn¡¯t a child.¡±

    ¡°He is a child!¡±

    ¡°He isn¡¯t a child, which is what I¡¯m trying to get him to realize.¡± Sir Quintana¡¯s gaze narrowed, feeling his control over his temper loose. ¡°A difficult task between all the compromises I¡¯ve made for people more interested in using him as breeding stock than helping him realize his potential.¡±

    ¡°I hope that comment wasn¡¯t directed at me, old friend,¡± the king said, his voice full of unspoken warnings.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t, which is why I know you will understand where I¡¯m coming from. Because he is my apprentice. He has trusted me to make decisions for his future.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps that is a mistake. This decision is more than enough to call your judgment into question.¡±

    Sir Quintana¡¯s tempered flared. His jaw tensed as he suppressed the curses that wanted to leap from his tongue. This was the problem with being friends with the king. He could not have his friend without his title and that title came with unsavory things.

    They couldn¡¯t discuss Bobby, who the knight treated like a son, without discussing his value to the kingdom. Said value also gave Sebastian the notion he had the right to interfere in any and every aspect of the boy¡¯s life, much to his friend¡¯s annoyance.

    He glanced aside to Dowager, the prince trying hard to hide how uncomfortable he was listening to two men he respected argue. For his sake, the knight reigned in his urge to snap at the king. ¡°Robert is not in danger. I know how the campaigns work. Newbies are protected at the center of the formation. They don¡¯t place children on the frontline. As for his possible shift in allegiance¡ª"

    ¡°You always said that fighting together builds a bond unlike any other.¡±

    ¡°Robert is my apprentice. He was born in the capital. He¡¯s walked in the palace¡¯s gardens and played with your children. If you still question his loyalty after all of that, then I have to question what will satisfy you and also remind you that Robert is not one of your royal knights. He has his own dreams.¡±

    The king¡¯s glare didn¡¯t abate. The knight took a breath and prepared himself. ¡°And, as his mentor, I don¡¯t care one way or the other if he decides to join Fort Victory.¡±

    ¡°Uncle Reis!¡± Dowager shouted. ¡°That¡ª"

    ¡°That borders on betrayal.¡± Sebastian made no more attempts to hide his growing anger, his hands balled into fists where they rested on his desk.

    ¡°The James family could care less about the throne. Their sole goal in this life and the next is to conquer the land beyond the Bleak Peaks and defeat the Lords of Winter. Should Robert decide to dedicate himself to that goal, and succeed, it would open up new lands, bring in more resources, and ultimately secure the kingdom from a lingering threat.¡±

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    The king shook his head. ¡°I know you mean well but your words are disappointingly naive. The James family has a force that rivals the royal army. Every man, woman, and child has trained since near birth. Compared to the sons and daughters of farmers and artisans, our soldiers aren¡¯t worth comparing. Worse, he can march the whole of his forces at any time while I would have to wine and dine four different patriarchs to march a fraction of the army.

    ¡°You think that man stays in that dark, freezing fort because he enjoys it? You think, if given the opportunity, he wouldn¡¯t take the throne? He can¡¯t. Thank the saints, the source of his strength is also his greatest weakness. The mission of conquering the Bleak Peaks unites all the warriors of Victory. If he were to turn away from that goal, he would lose the support of his people. However, that all changes if he actually wins.¡±

    Sebastian slammed a fist on his desk. ¡°If the duke or any of his scions defeat the Lords of Winter, they will be worshiped by their people. A second king will arise in the north, taking advantage of all that land and resources you spoke of. From there, it is only a matter of time before they turn their attention to the south.¡±

    He sneered and waved a hand toward the prince. ¡°Perhaps not a problem for myself, but undoubtedly one for my son, or his. So, my friend, I very much am against you giving the ¡®royals of the north¡¯ the boy with the potential to become the strongest caster in history!¡±

    They stared at each other in tense silence that was finally broken by Dowager. The first prince cleared his throat as he smoothed his features, injecting authority into his voice. ¡°Father, while I understand your concerns, I trust Bobby. He¡¯s a good man. Moreover¡­it is not our place to get between a master and his apprentice.¡±

    His father sneered. ¡°Not my place? Everything within my kingdom is under my purview. It is my place to meddle wherever I see fit.¡±

    ¡°Respectfully, you¡¯re concerned about people questioning the royal knights and other honorable men. How will it look if you do the same? Sir Quintana is well respected. He is a friend of the family. Contradicting his decision for his own disciple can only be seen as distrust and if he can¡¯t be trusted, who can? The knights¡¯ reputations will be utterly shattered and ours will take a significant blow.¡±

    Sebastian¡¯s sneer flattened into a severe frown. He turned venomous eyes on the knight. ¡°You¡­did you do this on purpose?¡±

    Sir Quintana scoffed. ¡°Like I¡¯ve got time to play those damn games of yours. I think sending him to a place filled with expert warriors to train his skills against a never-ending tide of monsters will be good for his growth. I also think it¡¯s too early to send him to war. Goblinoids are intelligent, sapient creatures. That¡¯s all I¡¯m thinking about.¡±

    The king¡¯s expression eased. He lowered himself into his chair, fighting the exhaustion in his eyes. ¡°¡­I see.¡±

    I suppose that¡¯s as close to an apology as I¡¯m getting. ¡°Send your own boy. Samuel. You want him to mend fences with Lourianne Tome? No need to wait. Send him to the Hall. He and Bobby can sign up for the campaign together and look out for one another. It might help that boy of yours grow up some.¡±

    Dowager guffawed. ¡°Maybe the cold will make him grow some hair on his chest.¡±

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s not a bad idea. However, I¡¯m concerned about how exposed he will be. After Sebas¡­I¡¯d rather not give anyone the opportunity.¡±

    The first prince¡¯s good humor dimmed. ¡°I thought the interrogators confirmed it wasn¡¯t an assassination?¡±

    ¡°They confirmed that Sir Iris was not a part of an assassination plot and did not suspect anything of his apprentice but that isn¡¯t completely telling.¡± Sebastian huffed. ¡°I¡¯ll speak with Samuel. I will have him apologize to Lady Tome but I don¡¯t require he put his life on the line to do so. Ah, enough! It¡¯s been a long week¡­year, to be honest.¡± He rubbed his eyes. ¡°We can talk business more later.¡±

    Tension drained from the room as the door was shut on the more serious topics. Sir Quintana huffed, letting his anger cool to embers, not forgotten but ready to be stoked back to flames at another time. He nodded and the king allowed a strained smile to turn up his lips.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been on the road for days, Reis. I¡¯ve already had a room prepared for you. I¡¯d hoped you¡¯d join us for dinner.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°And before that, we can spar!¡± Dowager shouted. ¡°I¡¯ve improved since the last time you¡¯ve seen me.¡±

    ¡°Son, he¡¯s¡ª"

    ¡°No, problem Seb.¡± Sir Quintana flashed the boy a cocky smile. ¡°I can beat the kid black and blue while taking a nap.¡±

    ¡°Ha! We¡¯ll see about that, old man!¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 14

    Angelleen Tulopia-Harvest, queen of the Harvest kingdom, stared at her reflection with a frown. A hand carefully prodded her face, tracing deep-seated wrinkles and pressing down in places where her skin sagged. She had moved past the stage of lamenting her lost youth, and all the opportunities gone with it, but she wasn¡¯t strong enough not to think of it. Not to dwell on it at the end of every day. Not to curse the ones responsible.

    Arranged marriages between the royal family and the ducal houses were a tradition that stretched back generations. The Great War united humanity and in the wake of their near extinction, they were loathed to war with one another. Reluctant did not mean entirely against. Oaths and blood ties served to hold back rampant ambition so the most powerful families often intermingled. Not every generation, as the records salvaged from the old kingdoms warned of such, the royals of old having made many mistakes in pursuit of talented heirs.

    The Rosefields were determined to marry one of their own to Sebastian. Almost rabid, like wolves circling a young deer separated from the herd. He was their ideal king. Not because of his firm hand when it came to policy, his fair judgments, or because of his respect for tradition. No. They wanted him because of his passivity.

    During his father¡¯s term, amid the Siege of Fortitude, the series of battles the crown waged in an attempt to eject the man-mutating horror, Aggrobobaleth, from the oldest city in Harvest, Sebastian, then the crown prince, was the first to suggest diplomatic measures.

    Many had certainly thought about a peaceful solution. Good men fell by the hundreds to combat a creature who didn¡¯t even exist in their realm. They could kill the creature down to its last host and do absolutely nothing to harm it. It wouldn¡¯t even stop it from one day returning. However, no one was brave, or perhaps cowardly, enough to suggest retreat.

    Humanity was forced from their homes once before. To be slaughtered and then forced to cede land to another race, especially one not native to their land, or even their world, touched sore spots. The previous king was ready to throw the whole of Harvest¡¯s forces at the creature out of pure spite and he had the backing of the army.

    The nobles were less enthused, as the whole ¡°war¡± was a drain on the kingdom¡¯s resources, something of more concern to them than the men and women throwing their lives away, but they didn¡¯t dare utter a word of complaint lest they be labeled traitors to all of humanity.

    Sebastian was perhaps the only person who could have spoken the suggestion to the king. His father almost struck him down in anger and very nearly stripped him of his position of crown prince, something that had his younger brother Syrius in a titter for a time, but, in the end, the previous king listened. He tried his son¡¯s suggestion¡­and it worked.

    The commoners were happy that they no longer had to send their sons to war, the nobles were happy with new trade agreements with the monster, and the royal family was at least content that the kingdom had accepted their decision. Sebastian¡¯s reputation soared. He was not a hero, and perhaps denounced as a coward in the quietest corners of the kingdom, but he was known as a practical king, to phrase it kindly.

    The unkind way to phrase it was that if Sebastian was backed into a corner, he would yield. He would seek peace rather than raze his enemies¡¯ home. He was¡­soft. And soft things could be molded.

    Of course, none of this had been a concern to the young Angelleen. She was an average noblewoman. She read celebrated literature, walked the many gardens of Rosentheim with her friends, and practiced the flute by her window. Her biggest concern back then was that her magic tutors would insist on physical training. She couldn¡¯t bear the thought of rolling in the dirt and blemishing her flawless honey skin.

    As a Tulopia, a branch family of the Rosefields, and a daughter, she thought she had few if any obligations to the family. One of the rare noble scions with the freedom to find love. She had eagerly awaited the day she became an adult and could officially accept offers of courtship without causing a great scandal.

    No one was more surprised than she when, on her sixteenth birthday, she was engaged to the crown prince. After surprise came elation. The greatest dreams she had of romance was marrying a handsome, kind man who also enjoyed the gardens of the city as much as she did.

    That silly dream was blown away. She was to marry a prince. One day, she would be queen and she would help guide the kingdom. Her previous hopes for her eventual children were for them to grow up happy, healthy, and talented in at least one area to bring renown to the family.

    Renown? Her son would be king.

    Angelleen was beyond ecstatic. Her friends, other noblewomen, were green with envy. The young noblemen took second glances at her, their gazes lingering like they never had before as they wondered what about her had attracted the eye of the future king.

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    Her father was kind to her. He had never been overly harsh but now he catered to her whims as much as the servants. Building goodwill in preparation for the day when she would wield vastly more authority than him. That had particularly excited her young self. What child didn¡¯t dream of turning the tables on their parents?

    Her marriage was anything but the fantasy she envisioned. She knew it wouldn¡¯t be perfect. Many of her female relatives had worked to bludgeon her expectations to size with the weight of duty. Her male relatives had cautioned her as to the expectations that would be placed on her shoulders, both by them and the rest of the kingdom. Angelleen could have accepted that much, so long as in return she got the good sides of being queen.

    Only to find there were no good sides to being queen. Yes, the royal family was wealthy, not that it mattered when anything she could ever want was usually given in the form of a gift. She had respect. People knelt before her every day. She lived in a palace, every little girl¡¯s dream. But that was all she was given and the price was too much.

    She didn¡¯t have Sebastian. They were married but in name only. Angelleen wanted to curse the maiden that had blushed as she welcomed him into their wedding bed. He had been gentle and attentive then as he was now. The man was no brute as she¡¯d heard in the worse of the noble ladies¡¯ tales before her journey to Summer Spire. However, courteous was the only way she¡¯d describe him. Certainly not kind. Or loving. Or even willing.

    She thought she would share in the glory of leading the kingdom but there was no glory to be had. Sebastian may as well be the babysitter of dozens of spiteful children. Forget making any changes. He¡¯d wanted to open a school of magic in the capital, much like the Grand Hall, but there had been such immense pushback from the nobles, despite it being something that only helped the kingdom and couldn¡¯t harm them in any conceivable way, that the poor king eventually gave up on the idea.

    The reason for their refusal to cooperate? He hadn¡¯t done the secret dealing done outside of the advisory meetings and open court. He refused to pay bribes, release incarcerated family members, or hand out free titles and land. Like children throwing tantrums after being told they couldn¡¯t have the sweets they desired, the nobles turned against him. They always put aside their petty squabbles when it came to fighting the crown.

    And Sebastian let them. Angelleen, as the queen, didn¡¯t know how to help. They had chosen her quite well, as she¡¯d never studied politics a day in her life.

    Now, with over two decades experience and bitterness to temper her, she knew precisely how she¡¯d handle them. Ruthlessly and decisively. Unlike her diplomatic husband, she¡¯d simply order the royal knights to march and let loose the interrogators like hungry dogs. Passivity, she¡¯d found, got one nowhere. Acceptance suffocated the soul. Better to draw blood and see which side caved first.

    Not that her opinions mattered. She was a queen with no power. A girl from Rosentheim sent away to marry in the capital. She socialized the same as before but few people of importance sought her company or counsel. They had tried, in the beginning, but it became clear that she was not a player in the game, but a piece.

    Perhaps now she could do more but her reputation as a useless figurehead had already been established. No one would trust her with their secrets or put their faith in her agendas. She was a glorified broodmare, nothing more.

    A role she wasn¡¯t entirely unhappy with. She thanked the saints for her children, as she would have certainly been driven mad by the sheer indifference of the palace without their bountiful love.

    Her eager Dowager, the boy who wanted to be a hero. He was her first but she didn¡¯t get to spend as much time with him as she would have liked. He was the first prince and Sebastian¡¯s heir. His time belonged to his father, as a king was not made in a day.

    Then came her angel, Selestia. Her daughter had saved her. Playing with her, buying her cute little dresses, reading to her. All of it was a balm to her tired heart. Selestia was a sweet but serious girl. Angelleen wished she¡¯d been more willful. Perhaps then, she¡¯d have fought harder to let the girl determine her own fate, but she had accepted her duty to the family and gone off to Rosentheim for marriage without complaint.

    Then came Samuel. Her prince. Admittedly, she may have spoiled him a bit as his father was only concerned with his older brother. They both felt neglected and so they both doted on one another. Her second son hated the cold walls of the palace as much as she did but had far more freedom to escape. He never forgot her though, always bringing back gifts to brighten her mood, from paintings to jewelry to particularly good wine, her one vice.

    Then came her third son, Bastian. Her failure. The poor boy idolized his father. That was his only sin. He wanted the king to see him, to spend time with him, to praise him. It was unfortunate that he had no outstanding traits worthy of such praise.

    He lacked the coordination for marital arts, he was not the brightest child, and he had only the basic fire affinity. Sebastian paid little attention to his children outside of his heir and he had even less time for an untalented one.

    His indifference did not go unnoticed. People began to whisper, their words malicious but not untrue. Bastian retreated further and further into himself.

    Angelleen tried to help him. Many times, she coaxed him from his room to play with his older siblings but the whole time, he was despondent. Presently, she could admit that his refusal to cheer up had seemed like a rejection, like her own son was choosing Sebastian over her. It had aggravated her to no end. She was never unkind to the boy, she loved her son after all, but she stopped making attempts to pull him out of his room.

    Eventually, Bastian learned that he had one advantage, money. If he used enough of it, people forgot he was the useless spare for a spare son, a hopeless fighter, and an untalented caster. Money made him important, which was all he wanted. So, he used it. Lots of it.

    Then there was her fifth child. Her second daughter. Her treasure.

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 15

    The door being thrown open distracted the queen from her contemplations. A young girl with strawberry pink hair and a bright yellow dress dashed into the room with a squeal, her face split by a wide, excited grin. Following behind her was a woman who wore an exhausted scowl and servant¡¯s dress, her thinning gray hair done up in a severe bun.

    ¡°Mommy!¡±

    A reflexive smile lit the queen¡¯s face as she held out her arms. The little girl happily jumped into them and Angelleen sat her daughter on her lap. One hand went around the little girl¡¯s waist while the other stroked her hair, petting the twin braids gently. ¡°I¡¯ve asked you not to run, treasure. You could hurt yourself.¡±

    The little girl puffed out her cheeks. ¡°I don¡¯t fall anymore! I¡¯m a big girl!¡±

    Angelleen held back a grimace. Certainly, at the age of fourteen, her youngest daughter could be considered a ¡®big girl¡¯, but not by any other measurement.

    She topped out at a hundred and ten centimeters, measured just the day before as the girl prized every inch. She had time to grow but the queen sincerely doubted Angelica would ever have the buxom figure most noblemen wanted in their arranged match. Something that would disappoint her father, no doubt, but Angelleen didn¡¯t care. She had no intentions of seeking a match for her youngest and, with a personality as immature as her body, she didn¡¯t imagine Angelica would be interested in such anytime soon. The girl¡¯s only interest in others lied in their value as playmates.

    ¡°Yes, my angel is a big girl, but mommy will worry if you¡¯re not careful.¡±

    The girl¡¯s pout abated as she nodded. ¡°Okay! I¡¯ll be careful!¡±

    ¡°Good. Are you ready for dinner?¡± Sebastian would be upset at the garish yellow dress. Such a fanciful piece was expensive and unsuited for such a casual occasion. A minor thing but the problem was he felt she indulged their youngest too much.

    Which was true. Angelleen indulged the girl terribly. She didn¡¯t like studying so the queen often cut her lessons short. She let her wear what she wanted, when she wanted. Bought her toys and personally took her to plays or festivals. Anything to keep the girl happy, to always be the one Angelica preferred.

    Sebastian was annoyed but he let her have her way. After all, she had already done her queenly duties. She had given him an heir and raised Selestia into a good wife. She even stopped pitting Samuel against his brother openly, something that had to relieve him. Nothing worried a king more than his children warring for the throne. If spoiling their youngest rotten was enough to keep her mollified, he could leave it be.

    He was wrong, of course. A bitterness formed over decades wouldn¡¯t fade so easily. She had every intention of causing trouble for her husband and her family, the Rosefields. She had simply found a much better way of going about it.

    ¡°Remember, someone is coming to dinner. Sir Manuel Reis Quintana.¡±

    ¡°Daddy¡¯s friend!¡±

    The queen¡¯s smile twitched. ¡°That¡¯s right. Do you remember Sir Quintana?¡±

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    ¡°He¡¯s a knight. They ride horses and slay monsters to save princesses, like me!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Angelleen tickled the little girl, her giggles and squeals restoring the queen¡¯s mood some. It was very hard to hide things from her daughter, impossible if the girl truly wanted to know.

    However, if she kept her smile, the ball of happiness wouldn¡¯t pry deeper. To that end, Angelleen carefully watched her tone and expression, choosing each word and gesture with more care than a discerning chef selecting ingredients for dinner. ¡°How do you feel about him, my angel?¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± The little girl hummed as she kicked her legs. ¡°Daddy¡¯s friend is sad.¡±

    ¡°Sad? How is he sad, my treasure?¡±

    ¡°All of the other kids are going to bully him. Force him out of the palace to go play in a stinky forest. Isn¡¯t that sad, mommy?¡±

    ¡°Very sad, angel. I don¡¯t like stinky places, do you?¡±

    She made a sound of negation, pinching her nose while shaking her head. ¡°And the green people smell even worse! They have really bad breath!¡±

    ¡°Then they are bad children who didn¡¯t remember to brush their teeth. Not like my angel.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a good girl!¡± Angelica proclaimed proudly.

    ¡°Yes, you are! And? What else can you tell Mommy about the stinky forest and daddy¡¯s friend?¡±

    ¡°Mm. He¡¯s really mad with brother and they get really dirty. I hope they wash really good before coming home, I don¡¯t want my room to be smelly too.¡±

    ¡°Neither do I,¡± the queen said vaguely as she thought on her daughter¡¯s words. She gently placed the girl on her feet before standing and grasping her hand. ¡°Come.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Mommy, can I go to flying school?¡±

    The queen abruptly stopped before her door, turning to her daughter sharply. It took a supreme effort to hold back her shock. It was the first time Angelica had asked to go anywhere outside of the city. More importantly, she had asked if she could go, not if they could go. A small detail but every word uttered from the mouth of her youngest was important.

    ¡°The flying school? Do you mean the Grand Hall?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know its name¡­¡±

    Well, it was a good thing there was only one ¡®flying school¡¯ in the kingdom. Unless the girl spoke of a place on another continent, which was not entirely impossible. ¡°Why do you want to go there?¡±

    ¡°My friend says I should. He says there¡¯s a lot of new friends for me to meet, including his daughter. She¡¯s a little older than me but he says that she¡¯s super nice and that she¡¯ll definitely play with me.¡±

    ¡°¡­and which friend would this be?¡±

    ¡°Mr. Sparkles!¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Her daughter had many friends, all of them invisible. However, her angel was far more special than most children, and unlike most mothers, the queen could not dismiss the girl¡¯s imaginary friends as simply imaginary. The information they gave her was certainly real. ¡°And this Mr. Sparkles¡­is he one of your nice friends?¡±

    ¡°Mm! He¡¯s my best friend! Well, besides Queen Blasty, but I¡¯ve known her for forever. Mr. Sparkles is super funny though. He tells the best stories. And he promised me more friends.¡±

    Satisfied that her daughter was simply up to her usual business, Angelleen nodded to Geraldine, her handmaiden from the time she¡¯d arrived at the palace, and left her room. ¡°Why not make friends here, my treasure? There are plenty of boys and girls who would be happy to play with you.¡±

    Their parents would ride for hours to and fro for the opportunity to have their children play with a princess. With Angelica¡¯s innocence, she¡¯d worry putting her with those her own age, but children a couple of years younger would be fine. Better, she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about them taking advantage of her.

    ¡°Because they¡¯re so boring! Mr. Sparkles¡¯ daughter is much more fun. Can I go see her, please? Pretty please, mommy?¡±

    The queen smiled softly as her daughter looked up at her with pleading eyes. ¡°Of course, my angel. It has been some time since we¡¯ve taken a vacation. But you must promise to behave. You must be a good girl.¡±

    ¡°I will, I promise!¡±

    ¡°Part of that is being patient. These things take time to arrange.¡±

    ¡°Mm!¡±

    The queen increased her pace as her daughter skipped through the halls, humming a happy tune. All the while, her mind raced, as she wondered what was at the Grand Hall that had caught her daughter¡¯s attention and how to make sure Sebastian wouldn¡¯t benefit from it.

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 16

    For the royal family, not even a meal could be handled simply. There were no witnesses to judge them but the family still sat at a dining table with twelve seats. A pristine white tablecloth covered the elegant table, it¡¯s ends nearly covering its long legs like a modest woman¡¯s skirts. There were two flower arrangements despite the coming frost, each vibrant petal expertly selected by the servants, mainly the young women, and placed in artistic vases that cost more gold than the average commoner saw in a year.

    Angelleen scoffed seeing them. Before she left, flower arrangement was Selestia¡¯s pastime and she was far better at it. If she hadn¡¯t been born a princess, her first daughter would undoubtedly have been a florist. Or perhaps a particularly skilled farmer, if her luck was bad.

    Each place sitting was meticulously arranged, from the colorful glassware plates to the silver utensils, including two spoons, three forks, and two knives. The royal family dined on a small fortune, made more extravagant by the fragility of the beautiful items. The earthenware used by commoners, the best of which was produced by the earth casters, was sturdier and far less expensive, but no noble of any standing would eat off ¡°dirt¡±.

    Angelleen was the first to arrive, taking her usual place to the left of the head seat and settling Angelica beside her. The two of them talked about nothing that could have been anything until Samuel arrived.

    She would be the first to admit that her second son was a prideful young man. She would also admit that she was perhaps the greatest reason for such. The queen wanted to instill confidence in him. His father certainly didn¡¯t bother to. He was mildly impressed by his son having two affinities but Dowager had the same. A little talent wasn¡¯t enough to drag the king¡¯s attention away from his heir.

    It was unfair. Samuel genuinely deserved praise. With his father absent, it fell to her to make up for it and she did her best. She used his resentment for his brother to combat his disappointment and stoke a competitive fire.

    She made sure he had the same level of tutors. Sebastian hadn¡¯t approved. Giving the two boys the same number of tutors made it appear that Sebastian was comparing the two when he wanted Dowager¡¯s future to be unquestioned. Things could get messy if those in power thought there was a chance to pit the two brothers against one another. However, Angelleen fought for her children and as the only thing she fought for, she did it desperately. Her prince got his teachers and he took his studies seriously.

    When Dowager took up martial practice, Samuel attempted to follow but he was a¡­softer boy. That kind of practice didn¡¯t agree with him and it made him despondent. As a young boy, he wasn¡¯t immune to stories of knights and heroes. Knowing he had no talent for fighting crushed him, especially when the people he saw most often besides his family were the royal knights.

    The queen showed him another way. While his brother played with swords, Angelleen took him to parties. Knights taught Dowager to swing a sword while she taught Samuel to weave words. She was unwise to the games of patriarchs and other powerful men but she knew nobles and how to move amongst them. Especially younger ones, driven by egos more than good sense.

    Eventually, her actions sparked a contest between the brothers. Samuel did not simply study, he made a competition of it and often derided his brother as ¡°another musclebrain knight¡± amongst their peers. Rather than lament his lack of talent in combat, he derided fighting as barbaric and the job of commoners.

    As a queen, she should have put her foot down and curbed Samuel¡¯s growing anger but as a mother, she couldn¡¯t. Like her, his resentment was the foundation of his strength. If she criticized him, she would rip the wheels off his wagon. His confidence would collapse and he would stall in the middle of the road with no direction. He needed his hate so she let him have it.

    However, actions had consequences. Sebastian couldn¡¯t allow Samuel to continue poisoning their peers against Dowager. So, he sent him to the Grand Hall. An action that did nothing to soothe her son¡¯s deep-seated anger. She tried her best to frame it as an opportunity, which wasn¡¯t hard as the Hall¡¯s reputation proceeded it, but her honeyed words couldn¡¯t cover the truth that Samuel was being cast out. Dismissed.

    Still, he strutted off with intentions to prove himself. Samuel¡¯s many friends often whispered how he would be more fitting as king, no doubt urged to do so by their families. They preferred her noble prince, who shared many of their ideals, over her little warrior and his intentions to define his reign by the sword. Samuel bought into their words. He thought if he accumulated enough achievements, he could usurp his brother¡¯s position.

    Angelleen finally had to step in. She couldn¡¯t sit by and let false ambition lead her children to ruin. No matter what Samuel did, Dowager would be prince. The only way to stop it was for her eldest to die.

    This was not a dramatic tale sung by a bard. If he, the second son, killed his brother for the throne, it would only end in both their deaths. Such an event would be plenty painful on its own but, worse, Bastian would be the only heir left and her third son being in charge would be good for no one.

    So, the queen stifled her Samuel, for his own good. Angelleen made it clear that no matter what he said or accomplished, he would never be his brother¡¯s equal, at least in the eyes of their father.

    And, as she feared, the rejection cut him deep. He was a ball of anger and frustration when he went off to the Hall, just waiting for the right victims to lash out at. It led to minor disagreements, easily swept under the rug known as the crown¡¯s influence, but his latest ¡°scuffle¡± was a bit worse.

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    Since his return, Samuel seemed tired. Not physically. Despite inheriting his father¡¯s broad shoulders and strong chin, he was as well-groomed as his sisters. His face was clean shaven, his skin had a healthy glow, and his white hair was neatly combed. However, a good care regimen couldn¡¯t hide the exhaustion in his eyes. He was a sullen ghost that haunted the castle, brooding and directionless.

    ¡°Mother,¡± he said absently, pulling out the chair across from Angelica. He briefly looked at his younger sister before turning away. Angelleen was disappointed but seeing her youngest humming to herself while drawing circles on the smooth tablecloth, completely unbothered by his disregard, she decided to let the matter drop.

    Dowager entered soon after, throwing open the doors to the dining room. ¡°Evening, family!¡± he shouted, voice echoing off the high ceiling.

    ¡°Inside voice, dear,¡± the queen said reflexively as he marched forward, taking the seat between Samuel and the empty head of the table. ¡°Really, you¡¯re not a boy anymore, Dowager.¡±

    ¡°Hah! My apologies, mother.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I was talking with Uncle Reis and am still a little excited. He keeps refusing to trade blows with me. It¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve had a decent sparring partner. The knights pull their blows too much.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t afford to harm you. It goes against everything the royal knights stand for.¡±

    ¡°Bah! Better a few cuts and bruises now than I lose my head in battle.¡±

    ¡°Dowager!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to invite ill, mother.¡± He flashed her a charming smile before turning to Angelica. ¡°Little berry~¡±

    The youngest looked up. She blinked multiple times, her blank gaze slowly focusing on him. Then she smiled. ¡°I¡¯m not a berry, silly! I¡¯m a princess.¡±

    ¡°A berry princess! Picked you right off one of the gardener¡¯s bushes after a picnic.¡±

    ¡°Nuh-uh!¡±

    ¡°We did! You were so small you could fit in the palm of my hand and everyone thought you were too cute to leave behind.¡±

    Her giggles were interrupted by Samuel¡¯s scoff. ¡°You should stop filling her head with nonsense. She¡¯s lost enough in there as it is.¡±

    Dowager¡¯s silly smile faded and his shoulders tensed. His eyes narrowed as he turned to his brother. ¡°I see you¡¯re a bucket of sunshine as usual, Sam. You should practice with me sometime. We all know your martial skills are lacking. Be a shame if another girl bludgeons you when you return to the Hall.¡±

    The second prince fought a sneer. ¡°That woman is more of a brute than you. I wager she¡¯d bludgeon you just as well, brother.¡±

    ¡°Ha! I certainly doubt I¡¯d have to worry about her holding back!¡±

    ¡°What are we discussing?¡± a voice asked. The table turned as Bastian, the third prince, entered the room. Unlike his brothers, he took more after his mother, being of shorter stature and rounder features. His soft chin and larger eyes gave him a boyish charm that didn¡¯t match his debauched nature. ¡°Mother, Angelica,¡± he agreed, bowing over the back of his chair before taking a seat beside Samuel.

    ¡°We were talking about the noble lady who kicked Samuel¡¯s a¡ª"

    ¡°Dowager, language,¡± Angelleen said with a sigh.

    ¡°The girl who kicked his butt.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I think I heard father say you met her.¡±

    Bastian¡¯s smile slimmed, becoming tense. ¡°Briefly. It was during that mess with the Grimoires. Her family was demanding compensation from the previous patriarch. She was the only one who didn¡¯t seem out for blood. Seems strange to me that she would get so¡­¡± His eyes briefly cut to the second prince. ¡°Violent.¡±

    ¡°Well, our foolish brother did provoke her,¡± Dowager said with a chuckle.

    ¡°Quiet, you oaf!¡±

    Angelleen watched her children bicker with a fond smile. She was aware of the girl they spoke of. Lourianne Tome had caused quite a stir in the capital when she emerged from apparent death alongside her elven bride. The upper class didn¡¯t quite know how to handle her.

    They had plenty of reasons to detest her. Foremost, the fact that she had married a woman, something that was just not done. Such a pairing could not produce heirs and nobles only valued power over bloodline.

    Beyond that, Lourianne was her father¡¯s only child. By not marrying a man, there was no son for him to pass on his legacy to. That broke tradition, the third most important thing to nobles. Then of course were the rumors of her behavior. The girl went against everything the highborn valued and was unpleasant company to boot.

    On the other hand, she reeked of opportunity. Strange happenings surrounded her. She escaped the jaws of death and came back with elven royalty. The Grimoire patriarch storms her house in response to her embarrassing his son, which everyone expected to end in tragedy for the Tomes. Instead, it ends with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom losing his mind and dying to the blades of the royal knights. The Golden Merchant himself was trying to drag her into the Expansionist Faction.

    She even thwarted an assassination attempt against Samuel. Fighting off her son was admittedly not very impressive but the question was, how had she known about it in the first place? She hadn¡¯t used her thralls to invade the Ferraro boy¡¯s mind, they¡¯d checked his memories thoroughly.

    Her most recent accomplishment was her unprecedented performance in the Hall¡¯s qualifiers. Her team broke Dunwayne¡¯s record. Dunwayne¡¯s.

    Lourianne Tome appeared to be a fool but her actions showed she was startlingly competent.

    The members of society were presented with a choice. They could scorn her, and most did, but the truth was, their scorn meant nothing to the girl.

    She didn¡¯t bother attending their banquets, even the ones she received invitations for. She owned no businesses and governed no lands. No reason to protect her reputation. None of them dared to assault her physically. Never mind the unfortunate fate of the Grimoires, if her wife could do half of what the crown suspected, any challengers were sentencing themselves to death.

    If their scorn was useless and potentially hazardous to their health, and making nice with the girl could lead to many potential benefits, why would they continue to hold on to it? That left them with the second option, grin and bear it. With the Guiness family leading the charge, suddenly, highborn society became far more tolerant of alternative relationships, at least in public. As always, power reigned supreme.

    Angelleen thought she wouldn¡¯t mind meeting the young noblewoman herself. She was interesting and, after a lifetime of being locked away in the palace, the queen valued new and interesting experiences more than gold. Perhaps she would have the opportunity if Angelica insisted she needed to visit the Grand Hall. She¡¯d have to prepare a suitable gift for the girl and her wife, a task she knew she¡¯d have much more success in compared to her husband. The thought made her chuckle.

    Her humor and the flippant conversation of her sons were cut off by the doors opening as the king entered the dining room.

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 17

    Sebastian surveyed the room like a lord overlooking the fields where the peasants under his governance worked. A comparison that was not too dissimilar, to Angelleen¡¯s chagrin. Theirs was not a happy home but a family built on the foundations of necessity and duty.

    As was usual of late, her husband showed signs of exhaustion. Nothing overt, as he was prickly about his image, but to the queen who had watched him for years, the tells were plain as day.

    Biggest of which being that he had changed into something casual, a simple shirt and pants. A stranger would nod approvingly, seeing a man who dropped his barriers around his family. They would be very wrong. Angelleen knew the king was the least comfortable in his roles as a husband and father.

    His slovenly appearance, by his standards, could only be the result of being too tired to bother. His family wouldn¡¯t be so quick to judge as his court and advisors, so he took liberties from time to time.

    Behind him was Manuel Reis Quintana, former royal knight. He too was dressed casually, down to his muddy boots. The knight bowed his head toward her as the men went to their seats, Sebastian taking his place at the head of the table, his friend taking a seat next to Angelica. Her youngest looked up at him briefly before turning away with disinterest.

    ¡°¡°Father.¡±¡±

    ¡°Good evening, father.¡±

    ¡°Husband.¡±

    ¡°Evening.¡± Sebastian returned the greetings cordially. His gaze moved to Angelica, who had ignored him in favor of tracing squares with her finger, muttering to herself. His expression was complicated as he turned to his wife. ¡°How¡­are you?¡± he asked, stiffly.

    ¡°Quite well.¡± It was the same answer to a familiar question. She had done her queenly duties and dozens of servants took care of her home, exempting her from wifely duties. It left little reason for them to interact.

    She greeted him at meals, assured him as to her well-being when he asked, and they ignored one another in-between. Or at least, that¡¯s what her husband thought. Angelleen was far more involved with Sebastian¡¯s life than he assumed. ¡°You¡¯re looking better. Did you take a moment to rest?¡±

    ¡°Mm. I managed to close my eyes for a few moments. Unfortunately, that is all I can manage.¡± The king rubbed his brow. ¡°Ah, but that isn¡¯t talk meant for the dinner table. Someone, bring a bottle of wine.¡±

    A servant standing against the wall quickly walked out of the dining room. He returned shortly cradling a bottle of wine, followed by an older woman pushing a cart. The king¡¯s glass was filled as dinner was served, Sebastian downing his cup in two large gulps. The servant beside him was quick to pour a refill.

    ¡°You¡¯re looking well, your majesty.¡±

    The queen looked up after tucking a napkin into the front of her daughter¡¯s dress, her smile a little more genuine for the old knight. ¡°I could say the same for you, Sir Quintana. I suppose retirement agrees with you.¡± Her words were mostly polite platitudes. Her husband¡¯s friend and protector looked just as tired as him.

    ¡°Hah! Despite my supposed retirement, I find myself constantly working.¡±

    ¡°The renowned commitment of a royal knight. The kingdom thanks you for your service. I hope our dear king isn¡¯t pushing you too hard.¡±

    ¡°Nothing the old boy can¡¯t handle,¡± Sebastian said over the rim of his glass. ¡°I¡¯ll need him to ride against the kingdom¡¯s enemies once more. He¡¯ll accompany Dowager to handle this supposed invasion.¡±

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    Samuel looked up from his meal. ¡°Yes. Fighting against little men half his size should be a good test of my brother¡¯s ability.¡±

    The eldest prince glared at him. ¡°Too bad you won¡¯t be joining me brother, but never fear. You will face your own tempering.¡±

    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°Dowager.¡± Sebastian glared at his oldest before turning to Samuel. ¡°We were having a discussion earlier. As you know, Reis recently visited Bobby at the Grand Hall.¡± The second prince stiffened at the mention of the school, setting down his fork and giving his father his full attention. ¡°¡­he has decided that Bobby will be joining the next campaign to the Bleak Peaks.¡±

    Bastian gasped and choked, hastily swallowing the food in his mouth and washing it down with a large gulp of wine. He cleared his throat, flushing as the table focused on him. ¡°Forgive the interruption. I¡­well, isn¡¯t that a bit harsh, Sir Reis? Everyone knows the Peaks are a death trap.¡±

    The knight scoffed. ¡°A man can find death everywhere. What matters is whether he¡¯s strong enough to fight it off. A good fight is just what he needs.¡±

    ¡°You agreed to this father?¡± Samuel asked skeptically.

    ¡°Robert is Reis¡¯ apprentice,¡± he said slowly. ¡°And he isn¡¯t wrong. Fort Victory has the strongest fighters outside of the royal knights. Beyond that, they are used to training others. It¡¯s a good opportunity.¡±

    ¡°If he survives,¡± Bastian muttered, waving for a servant to refill his glass.

    ¡°Bobby¡¯s going to go play with the monkeys!¡± Angelica shouted excitedly, flinging food from her plate as she dropped her fork. Angelleen was quick to sweep up the mess with a napkin and place the fork back in her daughter¡¯s hand, quietly guiding her back to focusing on her dinner.

    ¡°Monkeys, huh?¡± Sir Quintana mused. ¡°I suppose the knights of Victory look like trained monkeys to outsiders, thoughtlessly walking into war over and over again.¡±

    ¡°I think their determination is admirable,¡± Angelleen said. ¡°Not many could fight a battle despite such odds.¡±

    ¡°Yes, they certainly have character in Fort Victory.¡± Sebastian took a large sip of wine. ¡°While dangerous, it is a unique opportunity.¡± He paused. ¡°One I thought you may be interested in, Samuel.¡±

    The second prince froze, eyes widening. ¡°Father¡­¡±

    The king raised a hand. ¡°I¡¯ve decided that you will return to the Hall. There is no need for you to waste time lazing about the castle. Upon your return, you will make amends to all those you troubled with your¡­tantrum.¡±

    Samuel¡¯s lips twitched as he fought a sneer. ¡°Yes, Father.¡±

    ¡°¡­you will make it back in time to sign up for the campaign if you wish. The conquering of the Bleak Peaks isn¡¯t vital to the kingdom so it is your decision whether to risk your life for it. Think on it.¡±

    ¡°What is there to think about?¡± Dowager laughed. ¡°What else is he supposed to do, lie around the dorm all day scratching his ass?¡±

    ¡°Language,¡± the queen said reflexively.

    ¡°Sorry, mother. I was simply trying to point out to my dear brother that he needs some accomplishments if he wants to measure up to half his ego.¡± He sneered at Samuel. ¡°Otherwise, he¡¯ll be a ghost haunting the banquets of the capital when he gets older, regretting what could have been. I rather not have another leech on the family¡¯s gold.¡± His eyes cut to Bastian, who avoided his gaze.

    ¡°I am sure I can find something to do with myself better than drowning in snow,¡± Samuel said slowly.

    ¡°Enough, Dowager,¡± Sebastian said in his ¡°kingly¡± voice, ending the spat. ¡°It is his choice. Think carefully on it, Samuel. With great danger comes great reward.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± the second prince said in a tone that said he wouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°Your return to the Hall is not negotiable. The servants have already begun making preparations. Best to be on the road before the first snowfall.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Father.¡±

    ¡°What about you, Bastian?¡± Dowager said. ¡°Both your brothers are off to fight mighty foes. You should join us, either of us.¡±

    The third prince made no effort to hide his reluctance. ¡°Unfortunately, I¡¯m not much of a fighter. I shall leave the vanquishing of our family¡¯s enemies to you.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense! There are plenty of exceptional knights with only one affinity. It is all about how you use it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been listening to your maids too much, brother.¡±

    Samuel snorted out a laugh as Dowager¡¯s lips pressed into a frown. ¡°Best leave it, brother. Bastian wouldn¡¯t fare well in the harsh climate of the north. Without a steady supply of fine wines and desperate women, he¡¯ll collapse before even seeing a monster.¡±

    ¡°Your brothers have a point,¡± the king mused, to all their surprise.

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± Bastian sputtered, cringing the next moment under the king¡¯s glare.

    ¡°I tolerated your behavior before, hoping something would come of your association with the Grimoire heir.¡± Sebastian¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°However, in the wake of his father¡¯s death, Gordon has matured and changed his family¡¯s ways. The more debauched nobles have lost their figurehead and their power. They are once again laughingstocks. You are a laughingstock and I cannot have one of my sons seen as a joke. It is time to grow up, Bastian.¡±

 Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 18

    ¡°¡­grow up?¡± the youngest prince asked hesitantly.

    ¡°Yes, Bastian. You are a Harvest prince. Certainly, you didn¡¯t think I¡¯d allow you to thoughtlessly flaunt our wealth amongst the dregs of society forever. It is time you found an occupation worthy of your station. If you do not wish to learn martial arts or study magic like your brothers, so be it, but I will have you do something. And there is also the question of marriage.¡±

    ¡°Marriage?¡± the teen squeaked, as if his father had said death.

    In response, his father glared at him. ¡°Yes, marriage. In fact, I¡¯ve been considering it for all of you. It¡¯s long time we¡¯ve found you matches. Especially the kingdom¡¯s crown prince.¡± His glare moved to Dowager. ¡°I¡¯ve entertained your wants to focus on your own growth but a king must have an heir and for such, he needs a queen.¡±

    While his elder brother stewed in uncomfortable silence, Samuel cleared his throat, face slightly flushed. ¡°Father, I am not opposed to marriage, per say, but¡ª"

    ¡°You want to marry the Rosefield girl. Cecilia, I believe her name was. It¡¯s not going to happen.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª"

    ¡°I married your mother and your sister married the duke¡¯s first-born son. That is how things are done. To marry one of my sons to that family could appear that the crown is favoring them. No. Per tradition, Dowager must take a bride from one of the lower noble houses and you will marry into a ducal house. As my brother married into the Hoffens, it is preferable that you marry a James daughter.¡±

    Samuel smothered his frustration, knowing there was no arguing with the king.

    Angelleen looked between her uncomfortable sons and gently cleared her throat. ¡°Those aren¡¯t your only options. Women of strong character and talent are also possible matches. Or those of great potential. Power trumps all things, even tradition.¡±

    She saw the life come back into two of her sons¡¯ eyes. The queen could follow their thoughts easily. Bastian no doubt was relieved that he could spend his life with someone interesting as opposed to the strait-laced ladies bred by noble society. Samuel hopefully realized that if he could rack up enough achievements, he could have any bride he chose.

    Dowager had far less freedom. He had to marry a noble girl and had no time to scour through the available daughters to find a suitable match. Much like Sebastian, he was not a man who cared for romance and would handle his responsibilities as a future ruler with reluctance.

    Angelleen didn¡¯t wish for her son and some poor, innocent girl to relive her life. That¡¯s why she had already begun searching for the right candidate. Sebastian wouldn¡¯t fight her on the match and hopefully, she could find someone who Dowager at least had a chance of happiness with.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t wrong, my queen,¡± Sebastian said with a small smile. ¡°Power trumps all. Speaking of, when are we going to make the engagement between your apprentice and my youngest official, Reis?¡±

    The knight paused in eating his dinner, scoffing. ¡°There will be no engagement.¡±

    ¡°Ah, why not? He adores her, even with all of her¡­quirks.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but he doesn¡¯t need to be thinking about princesses. He needs to focus on his spellwork. If he wants to marry your daughter, he can come say so himself after he¡¯s done with his time at the Hall.¡±

    Angelleen tried hard not to frown as the men discussed the future of her daughter without so much as glancing in her direction. It was more like two herders discussing the sale of a sow as opposed to two loving fathers bringing their houses together and it disgusted her.

    To anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention to her, it was obvious Angelica didn¡¯t care for romance. The queen doubted her youngest even properly understood what the word meant and what would be expected of her. She didn¡¯t know if her treasure could understand. The girl was eerily insightful with some matters and beyond clueless when it came to others.

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    ¡°If it were up to me, I wouldn¡¯t let him dream of it until he masters at least one of his affinities.¡±

    ¡°Bah! Then he¡¯d end up a sour old man like you.¡±

    ¡°Eh, better than letting all that talent go to waste.¡± The knight was flushed as he waved for a servant to refill his wine. ¡°Can¡¯t have him getting his ass kicked by little girls.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± Dowager looked up, probable tales of battle catching his attention. ¡°Did Bobby get into a fight?¡±

    ¡°If you can call it that. I tell you, he¡¯s scared shitless of that Tome girl, not that he¡¯d ever admit it.¡±

    The conversation drew the attention of her other sons¡¯ and, startlingly, Angelica, the young girl raising her head from the food she¡¯d been pushing around to look at the knight with wide eyes.

    ¡°I listened to him recount the recent events. Is he afraid of the monster that can swallow a fully grown and trained roc in moments? Nah. Scared of the supposed assassins? Nah. Unnerved by the crown agent who killed five people? Not even a little bit. But he starts talking about the Tome girl and he¡¯s trying not to shake.¡± The knight shook his head. ¡°Though he¡¯d probably say it was out of anger.¡±

    ¡°That woman keeps popping up like a stubborn weed,¡± Samuel groused.

    ¡°Mm.¡± The king¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°What disturbs me is that I previously had no idea of Lourianne Tome before she waltzed through the capital with her¡­wife in tow. It¡¯s hard to believe someone with such a talent for getting into interesting situations has gone unnoticed till now. One does not simply wake up extraordinary.¡±

    ¡°Her family must have been hiding her,¡± Bastian said. ¡°As a trump card against the Grimoires. Kept her secret, let her build her strength, and then struck when the time was right.¡±

    Samuel scoffed. ¡°You give that ape too much consideration. She¡¯s a halfwit whose only concern is having a good time. She was no one before and if it weren¡¯t for that elf, she¡¯d still be no one.¡±

    ¡°Which begs the question,¡± Dowager asked, ¡°what would, at our best guess, a master-level caster with a pure affinity of all things see in a halfwit, as you claim? Ruins your theory, doesn¡¯t it, brother?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. The answer is simple. The elf is a perverted deviant just like the ape. Not everyone born to power deserves it.¡±

    ¡°I want to go to the Hall!¡± Angelica interjected, blowing away the tension.

    Her father looked at her with some shock. ¡°You¡­want to be a caster?¡±

    The young girl tilted her head. ¡°No? I¡¯m not strong like Queen Blasty. I just want to see the flying island and see the sparkles!¡±

    ¡°Sparkles?¡± Dowager asked. ¡°Do you mean the myriad zone?¡± He chuckled to himself when his sister nodded happily and hummed to herself. ¡°I suppose every little girl would want to see a colorful wonderland.¡±

    ¡°It has been sometime since we¡¯ve taken a vacation,¡± Angelleen said softly. Not asking, as that wasn¡¯t her place. A quiet suggestion and a meaningful look that dug into the king¡¯s conscience to remind him of all the things she didn¡¯t ask for was more appropriate. ¡°I could take her for a small, unannounced trip.¡± You need not come, was left unspoken.

    Sebastian cleared his throat and turned away from her. ¡°I suppose. It will have to wait until spring. It will not look good if a member of the royal family leaves the capital on the eve of an invasion and traveling is most dangerous during the cold months.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Isn¡¯t that good, my treasure?¡±

    ¡°Mm! It¡¯s going to be so much fun!¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll tag along,¡± Dowager mused. ¡°A vacation is good motivation to end the fighting quickly.¡±

    ¡°¡­we¡¯ll see,¡± Sebastian said in a voice that said he was already ready to decline. The crown prince traveling was entirely different from the queen and a princess traveling. He was a far more valuable target to any dissenters or the radicals in the Traditionalist Faction that would prefer to see Samuel on the throne. Not to mention, his absence would be far more noticeable than Angelleen¡¯s, as he occasionally accompanied his father to advisory meetings and other work related to ruling the kingdom.

    Angelleen preferred he didn¡¯t tag along. She would hate to deceive him. They thought the trip to be a random fancy of her youngest. They were correct, but only she knew that what prompted Angelica¡¯s fancies were things of great interest or power.

    Such as, most recently, the queen finding the young girl curled up in the royal library with an ancient journal detailing the relations between the First King and the elves. Not the one written by his father, who returned a madman after living with the elves over a period of some years, but the account of the king himself as he traveled to the Enchanted Forest to deliver news of his father¡¯s passing to people who he thought to be his father¡¯s friends.

    Seeing the book in her daughter¡¯s hands, Angelleen knew it was something important, so she claimed it for herself. Later, when Sebastian discussed his plan to give the visiting elf a seed stored in their treasury as a gift, she had returned to the notebook. The First King had written that his father¡¯s mission to grow the seed had been passed on to him and that he was unable to return lest he accomplished it. She gathered from his accounts that the seed would probably not make the greatest gift¡­and kept her silence.

    What Sebastian wanted, more than anything, was recognition. He wanted history to remember him as a great king. Mediocrity was the one thing that hurt him so of course the bitter queen would make sure he stewed in it for the rest of his life. She would never let him be the king who forged an alliance with the elves, opening up the Harvest continent after centuries of isolation.

    And she would keep him from whatever opportunity waited at the Hall.

 Miniarc-An Average Day-Arthur (1)

    Arthur opened his eyes only to shut them immediately after. Faint light entered his room through the wooden shutters covering the single window beside his bed but it was still painful, worsening the beast of a headache pounding between his temples.

    He twisted in his covers with a groan. A sigh answered him. Arthur furrowed his brow as he looked over his shoulder, taking in the stranger sharing his bed.

    A third party would call his lack of recognition cruel as he had obviously spent the night with the girl, even if his memory of the event was lacking. She was bare beneath the blanket, her blonde hair in disarray and her make-up smeared unflatteringly. She fidgeted in her sleep, eyelids trembling as she straddled the edge of sleep.

    Arthur frowned. In the light of day and without a shroud of drunkenness, the girl really wasn¡¯t much to look at. He wasn¡¯t one to be picky about his partners but after spending too much time around Lou, her thrall, her wife, hell, even Alana, he found himself casting a more judgmental eye on women.

    Most of the ladies from Graywatch weren¡¯t, as his father would say, jewels of the sea. Aside from valuable courtesans from brothels backed by powerful pirate captains with the men and gold to protect their ¡°jewels¡±, they had appearances suited to the rough lives they lived.

    Few were the frail beauties preferred in the kingdom. He knew women with biceps thicker than his own, muscle gained from hauling cargo on the docks, dragging fishing nets all day, or browbeating their rowdy husbands. Their skin was rough and calloused from hard labor. Those that sailed the sea often had horrendous scars and missing digits, stolen by hungry monsters. Or lost in a drunken bet.

    Coming from that, the girl beside him was a princess. However, compared to the adorable but mischievous thrall whose every action and look were meant to entice? To the savage, wild beauty of the elf who managed to be the most beautiful woman he¡¯d ever seen while being strong enough to kick his ass with her pinky? To the admittedly less attractive but far more approachable knight wannabe who he itched to break of her holier-than-thou attitude? To the unashamed pervert with her finely sculpted body and familiar, smug confidence?

    Arthur grumbled to himself as he got out of bed. There was no point thinking of the fine women. He didn¡¯t have a stone¡¯s chance in the ocean of bedding any of them. Lou was the captain and they were her women. Messing with the captain¡¯s women was one of the quickest ways to end up dead on the sea, beaten only by shorting a man his gold and fighting an abyssal horror.

    It wasn¡¯t as if he didn¡¯t see the noblewoman¡¯s appeal to them either. She was interesting, far more fun than the rigid idiots that comprised much of their group of initiates.

    She was hot and unabashedly a pervert. Probably a freak in bed, something he knew would draw the repressed libidos surrounding him like flies to shit.

    He had no idea why the kingdom seemed to think two people getting naked together needed to be censored but telling someone they shouldn¡¯t do something only made them want to do it more. Probably why so many water casters fought abyssal horrors, no matter how many were shredded by the multi-limbed monstrosities.

    He didn¡¯t know who thought putting a bunch of horny young people together with minimum supervision and free access to liquor after telling them not to have casual sex was a good idea but they were idiots.

    Lou had money, or at least her wife did, and had no problem sharing. That would be enough to get her a harem a thousand strong in Graywatch, even if she was uglier than his father¡¯s hairy ass and a raging lunatic.

    On top of that, she was strong. Ridiculously so, considering her age. When he first arrived at the Hall, Arthur had challenged anyone who would accept to a duel, wanting to know the average power level of the initiates.

    The results were disappointing. They might have been the most talented children of the kingdom, having two or even three affinities, but they were all useless. None of them had combat experience. Real combat experience, not just slapping swords with an asskisser hired by their daddies or throwing spells at targets that couldn¡¯t fight back.

    They panicked at the first sign of danger. A few bruises and broken bones had them crying for their mommies. Throwing dirt in their eyes, groping the girls mid-battle, and kicking guys in the crotch was called ¡°dishonorable¡±, ¡°cowardly¡±, and ¡°unfair¡±.

    Disappointing to the point he wondered if he could learn anything useful at the Hall.

    Then he met that monster, Lou. He had been raiding with his father for years. Besides strong earth casters, no one had been able to utterly crush his stone constructs so easily.

    Worse, the girl was as bad as any grayman when it came to ¡°war etiquette¡± as his pretentious peers called it. She wanted to see her enemies hurt. Kicking someone in the crotch? Arthur wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she castrated a man and force-fed him his balls.

    She¡¯d threatened to do exactly that to him more than once.

    Yes, Lou was a captain. Rather than lose his life or worse trying to snatch her treasures, it was better to stick close and lick up any benefits she left in her wake. He wouldn¡¯t get much, Lou was a stingy bitch to anyone besides the women she favored after all, but it was better than being trampled.

    Occasionally, she was even in a generous mood. From his limited experience, usually after her wife fucked her to the Abyss and back.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    His exit from the bed tipped the scales and his visitor slowly blinked open her eyes. A hand rubbed them as she sat up. He saw her brows furrow in confusion as she took in his room, stopping when her gaze found him. They went from his face to his crotch then to the wall as she averted her gaze hurriedly, face flushed.

    Arthur snorted out a laugh, ignoring her to look for a pair of pants. He needed a shower and while his father had splurged a bit to get him a room in Silver Dorm, he didn¡¯t have his own bath. He¡¯d have thought the other young men wouldn¡¯t care about him walking through the halls naked in the morning, not like they were seeing anything new, but after a dozen complaints, the dorm mother had threatened to kick him out if he left his room undressed one more time.

    Behind him, the girl whose name he couldn¡¯t remember cleared her throat.

    He paused in pulling up a pair of loose trousers, looking over his shoulder. She still looked embarrassed but she was staring at him, head slightly raised, features pinched in an effort to control her expression. ¡°What?¡± he asked gruffly when the silence had stretched on for too long.

    ¡°What? What do you mean what? Do you have nothing to say to me?¡± she asked, eyes widening with disbelief and voice growing louder.

    ¡°Shit, woman. Morning?¡±

    She lost the battle to control her expression, lips turning down in a frown. ¡°I would think you could muster up more than that, seeing as we just spent the night together.¡±

    ¡°You fishing for a compliment? It was alright.¡± Nothing to write home about. The women of Harvest were pretty tame. She hadn¡¯t even wanted to suck him off.

    Her blush intensified. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°When will I see you again?¡±

    Arthur pulled his pants up the rest of the way and grabbed a clean towel from his dresser. ¡°Eh? Why would we see each other?¡±

    ¡°¡­we just shared a bed.¡±

    He laughed. ¡°We did a lot more than that.¡±

    ¡°Eh-hem. Well, isn¡¯t it normal to ask when the man who is courting me expects to see me again?¡±

    Arthur turned to her and it was his turn to frown. ¡°Courting? What are you talking about?¡±

    She stared at him in growing confusion. ¡°Why are you looking at me like that? You don¡¯t ask a woman to your room unless you plan to court her.¡±

    ¡°Huh? I quite clearly said we were going to fuck. I didn¡¯t say anything about courting or whatever the hell you¡¯re thinking.¡±

    Her pink face lost its color as she grit her teeth. ¡°One doesn¡¯t need to say it! It is simply common sense!¡±

    Arthur tsked at the shrill tone. Where were the women like their guide for the qualifiers, who had been brazen enough to outright proposition him without any of this other garbage and get pounded by Lou in front of an audience?

    ¡°Woman, don¡¯t yell at me. I told you exactly what I wanted and you readily agreed to it. Don¡¯t make this into something it isn¡¯t because you¡¯re afraid daddy¡¯s going to cut off your gold for slapping stickies with any guy that can get it up, fuck.¡±

    Her face paled further. ¡°Then, what? Did this mean nothing at all? Did you just use me for my body?¡±

    Feeling an itch in his ear, Arthur scratched at it with a nail, absently rubbing off the earwax on a pants leg. ¡°Of course it was about the sex. By the deep. When exactly were we supposed to have had a romance, huh? I did more drinking than anything else last night. You weren¡¯t even the first girl I asked to my room, so it¡¯s not like you can delude yourself into thinking you were special.¡±

    He groaned as he saw her lower lip tremble. ¡°You¡¯re a disgusting bastard,¡± she spat.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± He was used to the women he bedded outside Graywatch making him out to be the villain so they didn¡¯t have to face up to the horny truth that they had wanted to get laid as much as him.

    He never lied to them about what he was or what he wanted. The women of Graywatch had disabused him of that notion. If he made false promises to the wrong girl, it wasn¡¯t the father who showed up to kick his ass, as he was likely at sea. It was usually the girl herself, shadowed by her mother and aunts. He¡¯d gotten his ass kicked by a grandma once, the old broad missing a leg and eye apiece but strong as a bear.

    He didn¡¯t understand the whole ¡°women can only fuck guys they plan to marry¡± thing the nobles of the kingdom had going-on. They knew damn well he didn¡¯t plan on ¡°courting¡± any of them.

    If going through the charade made them think better of themselves, he¡¯d oblige. They¡¯d scream, call him a pig, and maybe throw their shoes at him on the way out. Then, they¡¯d take a seat at his table in the dining room or intercept him on his way back to his room later, eager for more.

    ¡°You¡ª"

    Her tirade was stopped before it could begin by something hitting the shutters of his window. Arthur opened them curiously, surprised to see Lou¡¯s imp outside. His room was on the second floor. Was it hanging off the wall?

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    The imp¡¯s tail arched over its head. It took a minute to notice the folded paper it held. ¡°Ah.¡± Arthur stuck out a hand to grab it. ¡°Thanks, Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± the imp shouted before dropping out of his sight. Arthur peered through the shudders, curious to see if it would hurt itself from the drop. Somewhat expectedly, the creature was completely fine, hitting the ground and darting off without a pause.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    He ignored her as he closed the shutters and opened the paper.

    Oi, dog. Come to the house for dinner. My wife thinks I should pay more attention to my supposed friends and suggested we celebrate our success at the qualifiers. For some reason, she both thinks you are amusing and my friend. I can¡¯t disabuse her of these ridiculous notions. That is the only reason you are invited.

    Well, that and my thrall is ready to collect on our bet. You are dumber than those rocks you throw around for not running when you had the chance. Bring yourself, nothing and no one else. Can you believe William asked to bring a guest? Didn¡¯t know he had friends. It made me think of you inviting guests. Don¡¯t. I do not want to meet anyone who calls you a friend. I¡¯ll kill you. I really will, bastard.

    Your apparent reluctant friend, Lourianne Tome.

    Arthur laughed in delight. ¡°The sea shines for me today!¡± He was wondering how to get in touch with the noblewoman. He hadn¡¯t forgotten about the bet either but he also wanted to get in the woman¡¯s good graces. It was difficult when his very presence seemed to repulse her.

    He had a feeling she didn¡¯t hate him as much as she pretended, as he¡¯d seen how she was with people she truly disliked, but she¡¯d never willingly allow him into her presence.

    ¡°Are you going to answer me?¡±

    He looked up at the girl he¡¯d basically forgotten at the thought of the impending dinner. ¡°I got an invite to eat some good grub,¡± he said nonchalantly.

    ¡°Grub?¡±

    ¡°By the deep. Food, woman. Really good food.¡±

    ¡°Someone invited you to a meal.¡± Her frown deepened. ¡°A woman?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°So, that¡¯s why!¡± she shouted. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡­propositioned me while you were already involved with someone!¡±

    He stared at her blankly. ¡°I¡¯m not involved with anyone, idiot,¡± he huffed.

    ¡°Who is she? Does she know her lover is sleeping with other women?¡±

    Shaking his head, he balled up the note and tossed it aside as he left the room. He didn¡¯t have time to listen to her nonsense. Tonight, he¡¯d have his long awaited ¡°date¡± with the cute thrall, Geo. It was bound to be¡­exciting.

 Miniarc-An Average Day-Arthur (2)

    Thankfully, Arthur¡¯s overnight guest had vacated his room by the time he returned from washing up. He quickly dressed before heading to the dining room.

    Unlike earlier in the year, the expansive room was packed. The end of the initiate year meant no more structured lessons. The lack of scheduling left the younger members of the initiates at a loss for what to do. Some had taken it upon themselves to explore the Hall and Quest, mostly those who needed to find work if they hoped to continue their studies. The vast majority lingered in the dorm, the ambitious choosing to continue their studies alone while the privileged spent the time indulging.

    Arthur could care less about the lack of ambition from the kingdom¡¯s future leaders and defenders. He was just annoyed that it had become harder and harder to find a decent table to sit at. After grabbing his breakfast, he pushed through the crowded room, navigating outstretched legs and moving obstacles in the form of other diners.

    He usually liked to scope the room for tables with beauties. The crowd made a good excuse for snatching seats at tables he¡¯d normally never be welcomed at, the stuffy manners of the kingdom proving good for something. With his ¡°date¡± later, he didn¡¯t feel the need. He picked a secluded table in the corner of the room with only two seats and stomped over.

    The boy already seated with his back to the wall jumped as Arthur dropped his tray. They stared at each other, the young pirate never dropping eye contact as he raised a sausage to his mouth and bit off a piece savagely, spraying bits of meat as he chewed noisily.

    Looking a little green, the boy hurriedly scarfed down the rest of his breakfast before standing, muttering a goodbye as he scurried away. ¡°Wimp,¡± Arthur huffed, continuing to stuff his face.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t your ma teach you manners, shrimp?¡±

    Arthur looked up from his food as a shadow fell over his table. Standing beside him was a man dressed in too much leather. Dark leather boots, dark leather pants, and a dark leather jacket over his loose white shirt.

    A sailor¡¯s hat, with a round crown and thick, wide bill to ward against the sun and rain, also made of leather, covered most of his dark hair, only a few wisps escaping. It threw a shadow over his face, making his narrow eyes that seemed to be permanently glaring even more intimidating.

    ¡°The Red Water Witch don¡¯t got manners.¡± Arthur nodded his head to the other seat. His visitor would never ask for permission to sit, that would imply Arthur had power over him, but he had also decided to show respect by waiting to be invited.

    Not even Graywatch was exempt from the subtle games that went on within human interaction but it was at least more straightforward. They had already established their positions, which also determined what kind of meeting this was going to be. Cordial, if not friendly. ¡°Besides, who are you calling shrimp? My dick is taller than you, Fuzzy.¡±

    Belphezoth ¡°Fuzzy¡± Carmichael, son of Belphezor the Brutal, dropped into the empty chair with a scoff, taking off his hat and dropping it onto the table. ¡°Ain¡¯t what Marie says. Heard you a sea monkey between your legs, not a sea horse.¡±

    ¡°Marie? Which fucking Marie?¡±

    ¡°One-eyed Brown¡¯s niece.¡±

    ¡°That shrew? By the deep, you know what she¡¯s like. Latches onto men like a dropstone squid.¡± Nasty creatures half the size of a man with tentacles twice the length of an arm. Once they bound their prey with the deceptively powerful limbs, they suddenly became incredibly heavily, falling to the ocean¡¯s depths with the speed of a dropped stone. ¡°And when they finally dump her crazy ass, she gets nastier than a four-fin shark. Can¡¯t believe a word out of her mouth.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Fuzzy pulled out a small wooden pipe from his jacket pocket, along with a small pouch. ¡°Can¡¯t believe you got anywhere near her in the first place,¡± he said distractedly as he stuffed the end of his pipe.

    ¡°Ay, she¡¯s, you know.¡± Arthur held his hands out in front of his chest and grinned.

    ¡°Not worth it. One of the reasons I came to the Hall. Gonna find me a nice summer girl who¡¯ll cook me a warm meal, warm my bed, and won¡¯t fucking stab me because I had a drunken night with her sister.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You were nuts to even think about getting involved with Whale Killer Rey.¡±

    ¡°You make it sound like I wanted to touch that Abyss-spawned lunatic. My father tried to engage us, like we¡¯re two noble brats. Thought I should have some fun before I got saddled with a literal demon.¡± A bright red flame appeared at the end of his raised finger and he carefully used it to light his pipe.

    ¡°¡­did you sleep with her?¡±

    ¡°Hah? No way. She said there was no way she was sleeping with a man who doesn¡¯t own a ship. So, just cause I was curious what the maniac would be like, I got my father to give me a ship. She looked at me like a bird had just shat me out and dropped me in front of her. Fuck does it matter if someone gave me the ship? It¡¯s mine, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Fuzzy breathed in deeply before blowing out a large smoke ring. ¡°¡¯Tween you and me, I don¡¯t think it was about the ship. I¡¯ve heard some rumors about her.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve all heard rumors.¡±

    ¡°Not like those. Some of the boys were saying that she prefers clams over eels, if you get my meaning.¡±

    Arthur chuckled. ¡°Really? I know somebody she¡¯d love to meet.¡±

    ¡°Hah? You playing matchmaker like some washed-up old woman?¡±

    Arthur flicked a bit of egg at him. ¡°Not like that. Just think it¡¯d be interesting.¡± And perhaps a way to get in Lou¡¯s good graces. She had a weakness for women. ¡°Rey was good-looking, right? Been a few years since I¡¯ve seen her.¡±

    ¡°Sure, long as you don¡¯t mind the fin.¡±

    ¡°¡­the what?¡±

    ¡°The fucking fin. Abyssal horror shit. Fought one, didn¡¯t get shredded, came back with a fin, some other odd bits and pieces, and a penchant for eating meat. Raw.¡±

    ¡°By the deep¡­¡±

    ¡°And people who piss her off. Seriously. She¡¯s insane but at least she can say the ocean fucked up her mind. Her parents are just straight up lunatics. They fucking feed people to her.¡±

    ¡°My father hasn¡¯t stepped in?¡±

    ¡°Ah. She only eats assholes so he¡¯s fine with it.¡±

    ¡°Graywatch is filled with assholes.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, plenty of people your pa don¡¯t like so she hasn¡¯t crossed his bottom line yet. Besides, she spends most her time on the water anyway. Not worth starting a feud with her parents over it.¡± Fuzzy took another long draw on his pipe. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s enough chattering away like two birds. Your pa sent a message. Wants you, me, and a few others to head for Summer Spire.¡±

    ¡°The capital? What for? He¡¯s not planning on pillaging it, is he?¡±

    ¡°Course not. It¡¯s a contract. We¡¯re meeting the man with the money before marching south with a bunch of soldiers. We¡¯re gonna be heroes, serving the crown and protecting the land.¡±

    ¡°And making gold.¡±

    ¡°Damn right! Think a bunch of graymen would be fighting on soil if we weren¡¯t being showered in pay?¡± He huffed. ¡°Anyways, we¡¯re having a meeting later to discuss the details. Round dinner.¡±

    ¡°Ah, can¡¯t do it.¡±

    ¡°Why the hell not, shrimp? You better not be blowing me off for something stupid¡ª"

    ¡°You remember Lord Teppen¡¯s victory feast after the city killed that leviathan?¡±

    ¡°Who doesn¡¯t remember the best grub in the world? Ah, what I wouldn¡¯t give for some grilled levi.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m getting a meal better than that tonight so there¡¯s no way I¡¯m missing it.¡±

    ¡°Little shit. You think you can just say something like that without sharing? I¡¯ll drown you.¡±

    ¡°Eh, I would but it¡¯s not my place. You¡¯ll be putting your life on the line.¡±

    ¡°How bad can it be? This place is¡ª"

    ¡°You¡¯d be boarding a captain¡¯s ship without permission.¡±

    Fuzzy paused, staring at him. Arthur held the stare nonchalantly. He couldn¡¯t stop the man from tagging along if he really wanted and didn¡¯t particularly care enough to save his life if he wanted to be an idiot. If someone reached for the tail of a diamond-fin razorfish thinking it was treasure, you didn¡¯t follow them, you swam away.

    ¡°You¡¯re serious, huh.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a monster. I wouldn¡¯t question her if she said she had grown up in Graywatch. Girl¡¯s brutal.¡±

    ¡°Ah, alright. But I¡¯m not going over everything twice. Find someone else to give you the details.¡± Fuzzy grabbed his hat as he stood. ¡°See you round, shrimp.¡±

 Miniarc-An Average Day-Arthur (3)

    Arthur had an afternoon to fill before dinner and he did so with errands that he¡¯d put off during the week.

    The first thing he did after returning to his room was clean. Not an activity he enjoyed in the least and a skill he didn¡¯t advertise, as it wouldn¡¯t do much for his reputation. Anybody who advertised their skill with a rag and mop usually ended up using them all over the ship by order of the captain.

    He had spent most of his life on a ship, where space was limited. Combined with the constant rocking of the sea that would send anything not packed away tightly or bolted down careening across the floor, keeping a tidy room was a necessity. Eventually, it became a habit.

    After that came his daily practice, starting with building his mana core. The largest contributor to a caster¡¯s strength was knowledge but second was their coefficient. Some considered it first. An imbecile could defeat a master if they could fling an endless number of spells.

    Graywatch had no fancy schools or knight orders with regimented teachings. If someone wanted to learn to use mana, they joined a crew and worked their fingers to the bone until the captain noticed them. Then, they had a chance of being mentored by one of the senior crewmates who shared their affinities, learning that person¡¯s spells and fighting style.

    Graywatch had a smaller percentage of casters than any other city of its size, the opposite of Quest that had an abundance of casters. Pirates hoarded knowledge like any other treasure, especially spells. Their strongest fighters could rival royal knights but their magical knowledge was heavily skewed toward combat, the men and women who made their fortunes through raiding having little need for crafting techniques.

    Arthur¡¯s family had an abundance of water and wind affinities, perfect for the sea. He was the only one born with an earth affinity in three generations. His father¡¯s troves of treasure held few spells he could use. He had learned his earth constructs from one of his father¡¯s men but that was far as the crew could take him.

    There were notable men in Graywatch that could have taught him but that would require a hefty exchange of gold and/or favors.

    It also put Arthur at risk. Being the son of an infamous pirate garnered admiration from his peers, the occasional advance from beautiful women, and the odd free drink, but it also came with too many people willing to take his head off or capture him for ransom.

    Better to send him to the Grand Hall. He could grow in relative safety, bring back new techniques, and scout talent. The sea thirsted for the blood of men. Crews always had room for fresh meat.

    The quiet meditation needed to circulate his mana was boring but nothing new. He¡¯d been doing it since he barely reached his father¡¯s knees. He¡¯d wager he had one of the highest coefficients amongst the initiates, if not the highest.

    Arthur was consistent but far from dedicated. After five minutes, he itched to move. He lasted for half an hour before he called it quits, moving on to his physical training, which he tackled with far more enthusiasm.

    He wiped himself down before tracking down a servant to handle his laundry. The dorm mother, a gorilla of a woman who reminded him of the grandma back home who ran the local gambling den, had made it clear on his first day that the servants worked for the Hall. The initiates, acolytes, and even the instructors had no right to order them about. However, they could be enticed to do a few extra chores through coin.

    Arthur handed over the heavy basket to the teenage girl dressed in a simple dress and brown apron along with twenty coppers. She sniffed, grimaced, and demanded another five. For another ten, she promised to return the clothes the next day, folded and mended of any holes or tears.

    The rest of the afternoon was spent at the small table in his room pouring over a book on metals. The true terror of earth casters lied in the advanced art of metal manipulation. Throwing a rock at someone was dangerous. Adjusting the terrain could change the course of a battle. However, a powerful metal manipulator could decimate an army alone.

    Ripping a sword out of the hands of knights, piercing them with spikes formed from their own armor, and strangling people with their own jewelry. They were menaces to any armed force.

    More importantly for the young pirate, there was a lot more metal on the sea than earth. He could storm a beach with the best of them but was useless, magically, when it came to boarding enemy ships.

    Luckily, there were plenty of free classes on the subject. Despite his team¡¯s overwhelming success in the qualifiers, he hadn¡¯t received a single offer from an instructor. Leaving him stuck in general classes run by advanced acolytes, as the masters didn¡¯t waste their time on beginners.

    Hope wasn¡¯t lost. He¡¯d heard from Fuzzy, three years his senior at the Hall, that the acolytes who taught such classes usually had connections to those elusive masters. If he impressed his teachers, he had a chance of being noticed by someone with real skill.

    For that, he wanted to familiarize himself with the basics and try his hand at a spell, but it was difficult. Metal spells used many of the same variables as earth spells but were far more intricate. Also, the mana cost was much more intensive. His spells had to be as efficient as possible or he¡¯d burn through his coefficient in minutes.

    Efficiency took knowledge and knowledge required boring, tedious study. He never read books before he came to the Hall and couldn¡¯t stand the self-congratulatory monologues of dead casters for more than a few minutes at a time.

    Thinking of the impending dinner as a reward for his efforts kept Arthur motivated until the sun began its descent. He tossed aside his book and hurried to borrow one of the dorm¡¯s carriages. It was a bit early for dinner but late enough he figured Lou wouldn¡¯t kick him off the property. There was still a decent chance he was made to wait outside like a disobedient pet but he didn¡¯t mind as long as she tossed a few snacks his way.

    It seemed William shared his thoughts as he passed the other man on the road to Lou¡¯s house. He waited for him at the end of the estate¡¯s drive. ¡°Yo! Thought you were bringing someone with you.¡±

    ¡°Good evening, Arthur.¡± William pushed up his glasses with a sigh.  Arthur eyed his high-collared white shirt, black vest, and polished shoes with an inward sneer. His proper dress wouldn¡¯t impress anyone at dinner tonight. ¡°I meant to bring a guest but Lou decided against it. A shame. The dining is sure to be impressive.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯re you trying to impress, huh? Didn¡¯t think you had friends besides me. I think I¡¯m hurt.¡±

    ¡°My prospective fianc¨¦, actually.¡±

    Arthur froze. Then he wrapped an arm around the other¡¯s man neck and squeezed. ¡°Little bastard!¡± The last thing he wanted was to be shackled to a woman in the prime of his life but the thought of the wimp getting married before him somehow pissed him off. ¡°Since when are you so popular? Have you been flirting instead of studying? Why didn¡¯t you bring me?¡±

    William tapped the arm around his throat until Arthur let him go. ¡°Prospective fianc¨¦,¡± he sighed, straightening his appearance. ¡°Our fathers are considering joining our houses through marriage. At the moment, there is still debate as to who will be her husband.

    ¡°Whoever marries her is guaranteed to not be named heir, as there is no way my father will give everything he¡¯s worked for to another family. It¡¯s a surefire way to be done with this ridiculous inheritance battle. Her word carries weight with her father. I was hoping to impress her.¡±

    ¡°¡­are you an idiot?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe so.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re definitely an idiot. You were going to bring a woman you want to impress in front of Lou.¡±

    ¡°Showing I have a connection to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah, you don¡¯t get it.¡± Arthur stuck a finger his face. ¡°Listen up. You ever want to impress a girl, the last thing you do is bring her around your captain. Having a captain behind you makes you look tall. Having a captain beside you makes you look small. Get it?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    ¡°Do you have water between your ears? Let me put it like this. Imagine you visited this girl¡¯s house and she introduces you to her single, stacked, funny friend with a much more powerful daddy or whatever it is that gets you summer boys hot. You¡¯re not gonna want to marry her anymore if you think you¡¯ve got a chance with the friend, are you?¡±

    William grimaced. ¡°You¡¯re saying if I¡¯d brought her, she could be too impressed with Lou.¡±

    ¡°Obviously.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s a bit outrageous? Lou has opened my mind to the, ah, diversity of relationships but women of her persuasion aren¡¯t exactly common. Even if the lady I brought showed interest, Lou already has a wife, a thrall, and is courting Alana. I don¡¯t think she has the capacity to accept the advances of someone promised to another.¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± His friend wouldn¡¯t last a day as a pirate. It was why Arthur made no efforts to entice him back to Graywatch. ¡°Third rule of the sea, captains can never have enough. Just thank the sea and stars your girl¡¯s not here.¡±

    Arthur dragged him to the door, admiring the strange garden and the large house. The buildings back home were stout and drab, cobbled together stones as the wood was strictly reserved for shipbuilding. Even to someone with a diminished sense of aesthetics like him, they were ugly compared to the elegant manor he approached.

    Lou had it all; wealth, beauties, and power. It was enough to make Arthur envious but envy was an old friend. The gap between the successful and the unfortunate in Graywatch was the same as heaven and earth. It was a pirate¡¯s nature to rob those more fortunate than them but they learned to curb their desires, else they didn¡¯t live long. All the gold in the world was useless if a man wasn¡¯t alive to spend it.

    Before they could knock on the front door, it was opened by the young steward that made Arthur¡¯s skin crawl. ¡°Arthur, William.¡± He opened the door wide and stepped aside, dipping his head shallowly. ¡°Drinks are being served in the dining room.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Arthur muttered, wiping the bottom of his boots on the doorway before stepping inside. A rare consideration but he didn¡¯t want Lou angry with him for tracking dirt through her house today of all days.

    He''d visited enough times to know how to find his way but if he hadn¡¯t, the low hum of conversation would have guided him. Lou was seated at the head of the table, dressed in expensive clothes designed to look casual, hands moving energetically as she told a story to her small audience.

    Alana sat on her right, the future knight without her armor or sword, wearing a faint smile with softly blushing cheeks as she looked at the night¡¯s hostess. On her left was Kierra, chin resting in her palm as she watched Alana with a hooded gaze and a wide grin.

    Arthur shook his head. He couldn¡¯t imagine having a wife who helped him seduce other women. Pirate madams who weren¡¯t the captains of their ships almost unilaterally hated other women. Especially women more attractive than them. Charming maidens found themselves mysteriously disappearing into the ocean before they could tempt away the madams¡¯ lustful husbands. Or the husband if he didn¡¯t watch his hands.

    He wondered if he could get him a ticket to the elven continent. If they all looked like Kierra, he wouldn¡¯t mind getting anchored. He liked the way the long-eared woman did things.

    Seated next to Alana was Marthe, quietly nursing a drink. She didn¡¯t seem excited to be at the table but she wasn¡¯t scowling, a vast improvement from the past. It used to be she showed active distaste around everyone but now, her placid expression remained in place even after she noticed them. For the redhead, that was as close as she got to friendly.

    The same couldn¡¯t be said for Lou. When she spotted the two men, her lips curled in a sneer before she sighed. It was a bit amusing to Arthur. She clearly detested him but kept him around anyway when it¡¯d be easier than snapping her fingers to get rid of him.

    He wondered if it was because, deep down, she realized how similar they were. If she wasn¡¯t so damn strong, he¡¯d have invited her back to Graywatch in a heartbeat. As it was, his father didn¡¯t need the competition.

    ¡°Oh, the boys.¡± Arthur didn¡¯t fight the leer summoned by the elf¡¯s seductive voice as she smiled at them. A hand beckoned him to take the seat beside her. Lou¡¯s glare warned him off but he ignored it.

    He wouldn¡¯t go so far as to call the noblewoman soft but she was far from unreasonable, unlike some of the captains he knew. At the very least, it would take more than proximity for her to raise her hand, else he¡¯d be dead a hundred times over.

    ¡°Evening, Miss Kierra,¡± the young pirate said cordially, adopting the polite tone partially out of fear for her and partially out of fear for Lou. One of the few things Lou would kill him over was her women and he had a feeling the elf was the most likely to take his head off on a whim. It was best to play it safe.

    ¡°Arthur,¡± the elf purred. When she looked at him, he was uncomfortably reminded of the way cats stalked mice. He couldn¡¯t help his sigh of relief as she looked past him, snickering as William similarly stiffened under her eyes. ¡°And Willie. I was surprised you wanted to bring a friend. You¡¯ll have to forgive my Lou for spoiling the fun.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± The noblewoman scoffed. ¡°No. No more strangers in this house until I leave. I swear, anytime strangers visit unexpectedly, it doesn¡¯t end good.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± Alana said. ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡±

    ¡°Oh? Last time a stranger showed up on our doorstep, it almost started a war.¡±

    The blond scoffed but her disbelieving expression collapsed into shock under Lou¡¯s hard stare. ¡°You¡¯re not serious.¡±

    ¡°Very. Ask her.¡±

    Kierra, put under the spotlight, shook her head. ¡°Your leaders and warriors are rather unimpressive. Perhaps a war is just what this kingdom needs.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not funny,¡± Alana hissed.

    To Arthur¡¯s surprise, the elf immediately backed down, her smile and gaze softening. ¡°I know. Lou has taken great pains to remind me that humans are different from my people. Put under pressure, you¡¯re more likely to break as opposed to hardening. Given your nature, I suppose it¡¯s impressive you¡¯ve survived this long.¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re complimenting or insulting us.¡±

    ¡°Humanity as a whole is a disappointment but I have nothing but high hopes for you, little star.¡±

    Arthur narrowed his eyes. There was something off about the elf¡¯s tone and the way the blond swiftly averted her gaze. It was subtle but his gut told them they were different. Closer? Maybe, but there was definitely another layer to their interaction.

    ¡°Hey, why are you all here so early?¡± Lou grumbled, placing her palms together and putting her chin in them. ¡°Did you bastards show up to take advantage of my hospitality? Aren¡¯t you people getting too comfortable around me?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a part of being friends?¡± Arthur said distractedly as the thrall entered the room. The pink eyes met his own and the creature smiled at him sweetly as she sat down a tray with a bottle of Herbanacle and two glasses between him and William.

    When he looked up, Lou was staring at him with an intensity that said she wanted him to drop dead. ¡°Who¡¯s friends, fishy bastard? I¡¯ll kill you.¡±

    The elf laughed at the blatant and very serious death threat. ¡°My Lou is very shy but don¡¯t hold it against her. She cares about her friends. There is even a chance of taking the place of best friend, as the position has recently become vacant.¡±

    ¡°Hah? Best friend?¡± Arthur looked across the table. At the mention of him being her best friend, Lou looked stuck between vomiting and tossing him out. Alana reached out to rub her shoulders.

    The noblewoman relaxed under the touch, her expression easing into a dopey smile reserved for lovesick fools. Arthur watched them with narrowed eyes. There was something different about them as well. Another layer, just like with the elf. Having seen it twice, he recognized what it meant and swore.

    ¡°Ah, damn it. Captain¡¯s already got you.¡±

    ¡°What?! N-no, we¡­¡± Alana pulled her hand back, cheeks flushed as her mouth worked uselessly.

    ¡°It¡¯s not really convincing with you stuttering like that,¡± Lou said with a chuckle. ¡°Oi, dog. It¡¯s obvious so don¡¯t make a scene about it.¡± Despite her words, the degenerate noble was clearly as pleased as a leviathan swallowing a ship as she publicly staked her claim.

    ¡°Right you are, captain.¡±

    ¡°Dare I ask?¡± William asked.

    In an act of deference unusual for her, Lou turned to Alana, letting her decide whether to respond. The blond sighed. Her face was still red but she straightened her shoulders and faced the table with a hard gaze. ¡°W-w-we get along, okay? And, uh, eh-hem.¡±

    ¡°And she wants me~¡± Lou said teasingly.

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Alana. No one can blame you. I¡¯m designed to attract a certain kind of attention.¡± She wiggled her brows. ¡°If I didn¡¯t make you tingle with all the effort I¡¯ve put in, I¡¯d be embarrassed.¡±

    The future knight gaped at her unrepentant smile. Then she hid her face with both hands and groaned. ¡°What have I done?¡±

    Marthe scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s about time. You¡¯ve been eying her so hard, I was embarrassed for you.¡± Her eyes moved to Kierra. ¡°As long as it isn¡¯t going to be a problem.¡±

    ¡°Are you worried about my reaction? No need. I wouldn¡¯t dare to mistreat our star.¡± Kierra leaned forward and licked her lips as she stared at Alana. ¡°Mm. She has the right attitude and that wonderful affinity. With a little polishing¡­¡± She let out a pleased hum. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see that burning justice unleashed.¡±

    Lou straightened in her chair like a dog perking up when a stranger stepped into its yard. ¡°Kii, my love, you wouldn¡¯t be thinking of snatching my dessert from underneath my nose, would you? Cause if you were, we¡¯d have to have a talk.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you know much I love talking with you, dedia. We can talk all night long but there¡¯s no need to be stingy. We could always share.¡±

    ¡°Haha, you¡¯ve gotten funnier since I married you. The first slice is mine. I¡¯m not sharing a bite.¡±

    ¡°Surely you wouldn¡¯t deny me if the cake was to grow legs and walk into my mouth?¡±

    ¡°What have I done?¡± Alana whined again.

 Miniarc-An Average Day-Arthur (4)

    ¡°Hey, Lou. Lou~¡±

    Arthur looked up from forcing William to chug another glass of watered down Herbanacle to an interesting sight. After a delicious dinner, the liquor was brought out, as per usual.

    His friends didn¡¯t make the most interesting drinkers. Marthe became somber and quiet once she got drunk, slouching in her chair as she sipped from her glass. He wasn¡¯t brave enough to try and push her past her limit, fearing she¡¯d really try to kill him. He liked his chances against the redhead but if they fought, Lou would undoubtedly side with Marthe and his head would be ripped from his shoulders.

    William was the worst of the lot. He couldn¡¯t call himself a drinker. He was the cautious type, who measured every sip. Arthur would wager he had never drunk till he lost his reason and woke up in a strange place. Or even gotten into a drunken brawl. Arthur had gotten into his first brawl at thirteen and was knocked out cold with a clay mug. Good times.

    As a grayman who drank more beer than water, watching his wimpy friend dilute the top-notch liquor Lou provided and talk about getting carried away when his pale cheeks barely had a flush irked him something fierce.

    Lou and her wife didn¡¯t enter the equation. No matter how much the two of them drank, it didn¡¯t seem to affect them. He¡¯d challenged them to a drinking contest hoping to find an amount that could illicit the slightest reaction. That amount was more than he could handle.

    Funny enough, the most amusing drinker out of their group was the stoic future knight. Alana could throw it back with the best of them but she didn¡¯t have a scrap of tolerance, perhaps the most ladylike trait she had.

    He looked up just as she attempted to stand, reaching for Lou. It was a single step but the blond still managed to lose her footing, stumbling forward. The noblewoman was ready for her, scooting out her chair and catching Alana about her waist. ¡°Sit down before you hurt yourself.¡±

    ¡°Yoooourrrr¡­¡± Alana¡¯s threw her arms around Lou¡¯s shoulders, head lolling until it rested on the noblewoman¡¯s hair. She hummed as a hand stroked the wavy tresses before poking Lou¡¯s cheek. ¡°Ugh, make the room stop spinning.¡±

    Lou chuckled. ¡°Room¡¯s fine, Alana. Your head¡¯s what¡¯s spinning.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m tired¡­¡±

    ¡°Mm. Guess it is getting late. Lou put down her glass and stood up. Her eyes found Arthur¡¯s. He grinned and raised his glass in a silent toast, chuckling at her resultant sneer. It was funny how she took offense at anything he did, even when he tried to be courteous.

    The noblewoman sighed and motioned to her wife, who somehow managed to imbue the dangerous sensuality of an uncoiling snake into the simple action of standing. ¡°Don¡¯t you get any ideas,¡± Lou warned as she helped Alana into the other woman¡¯s arms.

    ¡°My love, you wound me. I am completely trustworthy.¡±

    Arthur didn¡¯t know the elf very well but one look at her smile and he didn¡¯t believe a word.

    ¡°You smell gooood~¡± Alana muttered into her chest. She squealed as she was swept into a bridal carry, arms flailing. Kierra carried her toward the stairs, her chuckles and Alana¡¯s squeals echoing back to the dining room.

    Lou grumbled to herself before shouting, ¡°Earl!¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    The steward appeared within seconds of her call, bowing shallowly at the room¡¯s entrance. ¡°My lady?¡±

    ¡°Bell is readying the carriage. See Marthe and William home. Before either of you refuses out of politeness or general disdain for the world, I don¡¯t care. Whatever else I can say about my family, I was raised with manners and care about certain aspects of my reputation.

    ¡°You are my guests, drunk on my liquor, so it¡¯s my responsibility to ensure you are put in your beds safely. Earl is going to follow this order, even if it means he has to break your legs and throw you in the carriage.¡±

    ¡°You call that safe?¡± Marthe mumbled.

    ¡°Eh, Bell¡¯s going with you and can snap a few broken bones back together.¡±

    ¡°Tank you fer your concern, lady,¡± William slurred, gripping the edge of the table tightly as he stood. Earl helped Marthe to her feet, offering her an arm for balance. With his free hand, he caught William by the back of his vest when he stumbled after attempting to bow towards Lou. ¡°Wish you a good night.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you two have a good night.¡± Lou waved them off and Earl escorted them out of the room. Then she turned to Arthur, who tried not to look too excited. He didn¡¯t take Lou as the type to go back on her word but he could see her reneging on their deal at the last moment if he somehow offended her.

    Despite his efforts, a bit of his smile must have slipped through. Lou sighed, covering her face with a hand. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with. You agree that the terms of our agreement mean you are giving yourself to my thrall to use as she pleases for a night?¡±

    He gave up trying to conceal his excitement and a big grin split his face. ¡°Giving myself to a sexy woman, that¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Saints damned idiot. Do you know what a succubus is?¡±

    ¡°Eh.¡± He scratched the side of his pitiful beard, still deflated from the forceful grooming Lou had imposed on him. ¡°I know enough. They make the best lovers, right?¡±

    ¡°Hahhh.¡± She massaged her head. ¡°Seeing as you are an ill-mannered, perverted, dog of a man who keeps eye-fucking my wives, present and future, and I want to reward my thrall, who has been remarkably well-behaved given her nature, I¡¯m not going to correct that disastrous ignorance of yours.

    ¡°On the other hand, I still have a conscience. Since it¡¯s survived my wife¡¯s attempts to destroy my morality, it is pretty stubborn. Too stubborn to abandon you to the fate of your own making, whether you deserve it or not. As such, I have laid down three rules for tonight.¡±

    She held up a finger. ¡°The first rule is time. No matter what, our deal is complete come sunrise. She can¡¯t bargain for more time. You can¡¯t bargain for more time. Also, she can only mess with your perception to a certain extent. By her request, I will not tell you how long she can hold your mind hostage but I can tell you that she cannot do so forever. Whatever happens, know that it will end¡­eventually.¡±

    A second finger joined the first. ¡°Second, she has to return you exactly as you were when she got you, down to every strand of hair. She can reduce you to an eyeball but when the sun rises, you must be whole and healthy.

    ¡°At least physically. I¡¯ve extended some protections to your mind but, realistically, there is no way you are getting out of this unchanged, saints protect you. I can only promise that you won¡¯t be utterly destroyed. So, there¡¯s that.¡±

    She shook her head as she raised a third finger. ¡°The final rule is whole and a half. You accepted this deal looking for pleasure beyond this world. I don¡¯t hate you enough to let you spend a small eternity being tortured and drowned in despair. Therefore, whole and a half.

    ¡°It¡¯d be unfair to forbid her from torture outright and I do want you to realize how much of an idiot you are being. The rule states that any pain she inflicts must be matched by pleasure of at least half its intensity. If she rips your head off and forces you to watch abyss worms eat your body from the inside out, she has to do something really nice to make up for it. You¡¯re welcome.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re not paying attention to a word I¡¯m saying, are you?¡±

    Buzzed from the Herbanacle, Arthur found it difficult to focus on her blabbering. He¡¯d heard the word ¡°rules¡± and promptly zoned out. As long as he got what he came for, he wasn¡¯t bothered by the details.

    The worse a slip of a woman like Lou¡¯s thrall could do to him was still a good time.

    ¡°Why did I even bother? Forget it, I¡¯ve got a drunk saint to tuck into bed. Good luck, Arthur. You¡¯re going to need it.¡±

    She carelessly waved over her shoulder as she left the dining room. As she retreated, the candles in the holder over the table flickered. Once the noblewoman disappeared, they were all snuffed out except for one that struggled to hold back the eager darkness.

    Arthur jumped as something brushed the side of his neck. A warm breath tickled his ear as a seductive voice purred, ¡°Alone at last."

 Miniarc-An Average Day-Arthur (5)

    Arthur pushed back his chair as the thrall walked in front of him, tail swinging and smiling softly. Her white dress and cute features gave her the appearance of an innocent girl but her usual demure demeanor had been replaced by an otherworldly temptress. A change that suited him fine.

    His hands reached for her thin waist but were slapped aside her tail. ¡°Too hasty. We have allll the time in the world. For now, hm. I rather not sully the home of my summoner. She can be rather petty. How about a change of scenery?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how far I can walk, heh.¡± He could hold his drink with the best of them, but he wouldn¡¯t take his chances running a marathon.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry pet. You don¡¯t have to lift a finger. I¡¯ll take care of everything tonight.¡±

    She snapped her fingers and the dining room disappeared. Arthur suddenly found himself seated at the edge of a familiar cliff, his chair having come with him on his unexpected journey. He recognized the drab scenery, the cloudy gray sky an almost perfect reflection of the murky waters of the sea, the beach less sand and more jagged rocks. In the distance, he could make out the docks he¡¯d spent most his life on, the ships coming and going made small by the distance.

    ¡°What¡­is that Graywatch?¡±

    ¡°You seem uncomfortable being home.¡±

    Arthur stood, jumping as his chair disintegrated, brown motes swept away by a sudden wind. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    The thrall giggled as she looped their arms together. Rapidly sobering, he tried to pull away but the thin arm didn¡¯t budge. On the contrary, he was helpless against her as she pulled him forward. ¡°Relax, pet. You will get what you wanted so eagerly that you sold away the sanctity of your mind. But first, a walk through your memories. Tell me about this city.¡±

    The gray surroundings did not lend themselves to romance. Neither did Arthur. He held his silence, battling to hold onto his rapidly diminishing confusion and apprehension as he failed to point out interesting sights.

    Graywatch and its surroundings held little that an outsider, or even residents, could admire, but the difficulty was more challenging than usual as the surroundings weren¡¯t quite right. He eventually noticed that the problem lied in the details. Driftwood had no grain. Stones were simple blobs of gray with no texture or shape. Weeds were dots of green rather than tall stalks.

    Strangely, the moment he noticed the oddities, they disappeared, the objects fixing themselves so quickly he began to doubt he saw the mistakes in the first place.

    ¡°Tell me about the city,¡± the thrall whispered to him as they neared the docks, the city itself coming into view. Arthur found himself uncharacteristically chattering without a thought.

    ¡°Not much to tell.¡± A sudden wave of nostalgia overcame him as opposed to his normal disregard when it came to his home. His eyes swept over the empty docks and, in less than the time it took to blink, it was full of people, creating a familiar scene.

    The previous silence was replaced by an explosion of noise as dockhands and fishermen scurried over the wooden planks loading and unloading ships. ¡°Bunch of grizzled old men and rough women trying to make a living in a place where they aren¡¯t welcome.¡±

    ¡°Not welcome? It is my understanding that Graywatch has been around for dozens of years. Who would dare say they are unwelcome?¡±

    ¡°Ha! The original inhabitants. The sea thirsts for the blood of men.¡± He guided her to the shore, walking into the water until it was up to his ankles. As he thought he would need a fish to make his point, several appeared in his hand. ¡°Keep your eye where they land,¡± he said as he launched them into the sea.

    A moment after they splashed into the water, the surface was disrupted with a frenzy as they were snapped up. He saw flashes of bright blue scales and spots of blood in the water before the sea stilled.

    ¡°And what is that delightful creature?¡±

    ¡°Water goblin. Don¡¯t know if they look like actual goblins as I¡¯ve never seen one but that¡¯s what people have been calling them forever. Or tide rats. Some of the old women call them kiddie teeth because any kids stupid enough to go swimming before someone clears the water don¡¯t make it back to shore.¡±

    ¡°I see why you would say you are not welcome.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You think I¡¯m talking about the rats? They go after the kids because that¡¯s all they can handle. The problem is the storms and what they bring with them. The rain pours so hard, things that should never leave the sea storm the beaches.¡±

    Arthur sucked in a deep breath as the clear sky suddenly became menacing. Thunder rattled his bones as a fork of lightning flashed down from the black clouds.

    The dockhands no longer carried boxes but weapons, joined by the pirates roused from their ships and favorite bars. They were armed with a range of weapons, from fine steel sabers commissioned from traveling merchants and paid for with pillaged gold to homemade weapons, the most common being planks of wood with nails hammered through an end.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Men who would happily stab each other under normal circumstances stood as comrades, united against the hulking forms emerging from the churning sea. They were clumsy on land but so were the men, fighting amidst a howling storm. The monsters¡¯ powerful limbs swept men off their feet with a careless swipe and their leathery hides deflected inaccurate blows.

    The two forces clashed, the heavy downpour muting their battle cries and washing away the blood.

    Normally, Arthur would already be in the thick of the action but he felt strangely detached from the scene, even as his acquaintances fell from grievous wounds. His brows furrowed as he noticed one of the slain men dissolve into black motes and reappear a moment later, fighting another sea monster.

    ¡°Is this a frequent occurrence?¡±

    ¡°Ah, the leatherbacks usually come in the winter as they move to shallower water. We think they like lying on the beach but we¡¯re there now. It¡¯s much worse in spring, when the storms are strongest. All kinds of things get washed to shore.¡±

    ¡°Why not leave?¡±

    ¡°Now? Spite, I think, but it was different in the past. The way the old folks tell it, after the first king claimed the continent, he sent people to every corner to establish villages and report back on the resources of the area. Used to be there were people all along the coast but it didn¡¯t last long.

    ¡°Those things in the water don¡¯t stay there and the original settlers weren¡¯t prepared. Water gobs, leatherbacks, saints, even the crabs were dangerous. They were obliterated.

    ¡°They sent for help, of course, and the king sent his soldiers. The settlers came together to select the ideal place for a larger settlement, as it was too much to protect the whole coast, and the soldiers cleared the beach. Under their protection, the first iteration of Graywatch was built.

    ¡°It lasted a whole month, or moon cycle as the grannies put it. The soldiers had returned to the capital, leaving only a token force behind to train the locals and aid in protection. They weren¡¯t prepared for the leviathan that had been pushed into shallow water by a storm.

    ¡°The king sent more soldiers, dozens of them. Each time, they fought back the fishies and each time, the sea threw more at them. Eventually, the capital got tired of throwing its resources into the sea and refused to send any more reinforcements. However, the settlers were forbidden from leaving.

    ¡°See, the sea may be dangerous but it also has a lot of valuable treasures. Pearls, manabeasts, the alchemists even want the seaweed we think is trash. The king provided the settlers with supplies and told them to make the best of it.

    ¡°Deserters were caught by soldiers camped in outposts further inland and imprisoned for going against the crown. When the settlers were inevitably slaughtered, their numbers were bolstered by criminals, orphans, and dishonored knights.

    ¡°With the unforgiving ocean at their fronts and a selfish king at their backs, the settlers grit their teeth and muddled through. They learned to weather the storms and fight off the sea monsters. When they verged on starvation because they got sick at the sight of fish and nothing can grow in the soil around the city, they boarded their ships and sailed down the shore, raiding the more prosperous settlements inland.

    ¡°As they grew stronger, the city grew rapidly. The crews would move further inland, razing villages and absconding back to sea with their stolen gold and boys to bolster their numbers. The struggling town of Graywatch became a city full of hardened bandits and pirates.

    ¡°With their activities taking them deeper inland, the king couldn¡¯t ignore them anymore. But by then Graywatch had long grown too big to be easily corralled and they could care less about the crown¡¯s royal decrees. Knights and soldiers tried to take the town by force. The crews gave up the city willingly and the soldiers were inevitably decimated by the storms.

    ¡°Eventually, the two powers came to an agreement. Graywatch would keep their activities to the shore and continue to harvest resources from the sea for the kingdom. In return, the crown keeps its fingers out of the city and doesn¡¯t attempt to stop the crews from trading with the merchants brave enough to do business with them. Creating the shithole Graywatch is today, a city filled with the worst humanity has to offer.¡±

    Arthur¡¯s throat itched from his monologue. He wished he had a refreshing mug of beer and then it was in his hand. The chaotic scene of the storm disappeared, replaced with the previous peaceful scene of dock work.

    The thrall pulled him toward the city. Arthur sipped his beer and indulged in a strange urge to ramble on about the things that caught his eye.

    ¡°That¡¯s Graywatch¡¯s market. Right by the docks so the old boys don¡¯t have to walk too far from their boats. Everything¡¯s fresh, not like the slop they call seafood at the Hall. But you have to be careful. They slap anything they catch in their nets on the stalls. Manabeast meat is usually good but the sea is strange. Take my advice, don¡¯t eat anything with more than five eyes. Place always smells like the ass end of the Abyss.¡±

    As he thought of it, the horrid smell of fish and sweaty men mixing with the smell of the sea and damp earth made him crinkle his nose.

    ¡°That¡¯s Granny Gapmaw¡¯s house. No one can work leatherback hide and bone like her but everything she makes is as ugly as Fuzzy¡¯s hairy ass. As well as her half a dozen granddaughters she keeps trying to wed off.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s the Sunken Ship. Don¡¯t know what that stupid bastard was thinking naming his bar that. Wouldn¡¯t anyone with the balls to drink somewhere with that name be cursing himself? And that¡¯s¡­¡±

    He paused, grimacing. The thrall leaned into his side, following his gaze to a squat building made of gray stone with a square roof. The same drab box dwelling as its neighbor, but bigger, with a second floor and several holes to serve as windows. ¡°What is this place that it gives you pause?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s Smokey¡¯s place. The Black Smoke crew¡¯s den. They keep ¡®jewels¡¯ but I don¡¯t go there. The women smoke that crap they peddle. Some men like the way it makes the women docile but if I wanted to hump a dead fish, there¡¯re easier and cheaper ways.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What is it they peddle?¡±

    ¡°Spotted saltweed. Nasty plant and one of the few things that can grow around here. The settlers used to gather it up and burn it but quickly realized the smoke made men delirious. Some disgraced alchemists found a way to process it to keep the high and get rid of the other nasty effects, like death. Black Smoke cornered the market, so to speak, and Smokey hasn¡¯t relaxed their iron grip as the crew¡¯s latest captain.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. You have grown up surrounded by death, gore, and heinous crimes. I can see over half a dozen of these captains in your memory that are arguably worse than this Smokey. Yet he is the one who gives you pause. What about him disturbs you?¡±

    The world around him shook as his mind resisted the thrall¡¯s efforts to delve his memories, though he didn¡¯t realize what was happening. He was firmly within her power. It was only a matter of time before she broke down his natural defenses and despite his reluctance, he allowed her to pull him into the building.

 Miniarc-An Average Day-Arthur (6)

    The air was thick with sweet smelling incense which almost managed to cover the bitterness of the saltweed. The inside looked far better than the outside, though Arthur put it down to the gloom.

    Couches and pillows were scattered around the room, men and women lounging on them in various states of dress. Standing in the corners and in the deepest shadows of the room were the vague shapes of men. Arthur couldn¡¯t make out their features or clothes except for the gray scarves tied somewhere on their bodies, what identified them as members of the Black Smoke crew.

    ¡°And where is this boogeyman of yours?¡±

    ¡°Smokey is usually in the back,¡± Arthur muttered, voice soft as he tried not to breathe in too deeply. He moved through the spacious den with the ease of familiarity despite the poor lighting, spotting a black door that blended into back wall.

    He kicked it in, revealing a facsimile of a noble¡¯ study. There were the usual bookcases, a long table of sturdy wood, a plush rug, and a tall-backed chair that gave the impression of a throne. But the man seated upon it ruined the picture.

    His fat stomach stretched his dark shirt, the buttons straining to hold the two sides of the material together. A heavy coat lined with black fur, a garment that was impractical in the frequent rains and extra costly giving the scarcity of its materials in Graywatch, hung on his shoulders and a pipe dangled from his lips. A black sailor¡¯s cap covered his head, a few strands of gray hair escaping it.

    Beady black eyes focused as he entered, the pirate¡¯s black lips slowly curling into a grin. ¡°That you, shrimp? Came to admire Old Smokey¡¯s jewels, have you? Come in, come in. Your father¡¯s going back out to sea soon, I¡¯ll give you a discount.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see it now. This overgrown pig isn¡¯t the source of your turmoil. How very predictable, pet, for your troubles to center around a woman.¡±

    A shadowy body walked past them to lean against the desk. In a blink, the formless shadow became a young woman with curly brown hair and blank, hazel eyes. She smiled faintly as she pulled aside the front of her dress, exposing her modest breasts and purpling bruises in the shape of a hand on her throat.

    ¡°This is the one you like, right shrimp?¡± Smokey asked, voice distorting and becoming menacing. His dark eyes began to glow a sinister red as his form bloated, the man becoming a nightmare. ¡°First time is free, just for you.¡±

    ¡°Poor thing. She used to be so sweet. But then, so did you.¡±

    Arthur looked over his shoulder. The wall fell away and expanded into the rocky shore outside of Graywatch. Arthur watched with suppressed shock and magnified nostalgia as his younger self splashed in the water with a younger version of the glassy-eyed girl. No one would easily match her past with her future, unable to see the living ghost as the end result of the exuberant child filled with laughter as she dunked a young Arthur¡¯s head in the water.

    ¡°She was your innocence. The symbol of all that was good in this world. And they crushed her.¡±

    ¡°The way things are,¡± he muttered as the beach scene dimmed, darkness swallowing the vision of his childhood and replacing it with the closed door of Smokey¡¯s room. ¡°The strong take what they want and the weak can do fuck all about it.¡±

    ¡°Are you sad?¡±

    ¡°Hah, no point in that.¡± He jerked his head in the direction of the pirate that had transformed into a mountain of flesh that had to duck its head to fit inside the cramped room, exhaling the treacherous smoke of the saltweed like its throat was a chimney. ¡°Beasts like him feed on the weakness of people.¡±

    ¡°Are you angry?¡±

    ¡°Do you get angry at sharks for feeding on the small fry of the ocean? Or a storm for destroying your house?¡± He scoffed.

    ¡°Is that how you see yourself? As a shark? A predator?¡±

    ¡°Better than being a shrimp.¡±

    The thrall giggled. ¡°Good! No need to waste time with this foolishness.¡± She snapped her fingers and the grotesque pirate, the glassy-eyed girl, and the derelict den of iniquity disappeared, replaced by his room at the Hall.

    She skipped over to his bed and flopped onto the mattress, crossing her ankles as she smiled at him. ¡°My apologies for the games, pet, but I had to be sure you are the man you present to be. You wouldn¡¯t believe how many men put on a tough front when they are nothing but worms on the inside. I¡¯m happy I was right about you. Now we can have some real fun.¡±

    ¡°Finally.¡± Arthur shook himself as the strange hold on his emotions disappeared. Anger overcame his excitement from the start of the night. ¡°Oi! What have you been doing with me?¡±

    ¡°What a succubus does, dear boy. You surrendered yourself to me without knowing anything about us. Foolish, but I do love fools.¡±

    Arthur¡¯s eyes narrowed, glowing as he called on his mana. ¡°I was trying to be nice on account of you being one of Lou¡¯s women but I¡¯m not going to let you jerk me around.¡±

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    ¡°Oh? Then what are you going to do about it?¡±

    Arthur sneered but didn¡¯t move. The thrall laughed at his hesitance. ¡°Are you that scared of my summoner?¡±

    ¡°Fucking course I am.¡± His eyes lost their glow as he sighed. ¡°She broke my earth constructs with her bare hands. Laying a hand on you is a death sentence.¡± Having lived to adulthood in Graywatch, Arthur had long since learned the art of delaying self-gratification in pursuit of survival. ¡°So, you took the bet just to fuck with me? Fine. You¡¯ve had your laugh, now end whatever magic this is and let me get on.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve misunderstood, pet.¡±

    She snapped her fingers and her dress disappeared. Arthur¡¯s annoyance was whisked away with the expedience of someone blowing out a candle flame as his eyes traced over her petite body. The gray skin added a foreign flavor to the sight that brought back the young man¡¯s desire with a vengeance.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you what you want. The question is, can you pay the price?¡±

    The thrall crooked a finger and Arthur moved forward like she was reeling him in. She leaned back as he put a knee on the bed, relaxing like a viper basking in the sun as he climbed over her.

    An eager hand reached for her modest chest but her tail curled around his wrist, bringing it to a halt despite his attempts to move it. Arthur swore. ¡°This better not be one big tease!¡±

    ¡°I will let you do anything you want to me. Anything.¡± Arthur gulped at the seductive promise in the rose-pink eyes. ¡°But know that you will pay the price for every touch.¡± Her tail uncoiled from his wrist. ¡°How far will you go to get what you want?¡±

    To his credit, Arthur hesitated a moment, but only a moment. His hand continued its path and he grinned lasciviously as the thrall moaned. Then he swore and threw himself away as something scalded his chest.

    He stared at the elemental with wide eyes as she laughed. ¡°I told you, pet~ You¡¯ll pay for every touch.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± He swallowed. The scalding touch was fresh in his mind as he reached out again, trailing his finger around a dainty ankle. An itch assaulted his own ankle. ¡°Damn. This is fucked up.¡±

    ¡°I would call it amusing,¡± the thrall mused.

    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± he said with disgust. ¡°Why not just tell me to get lost?¡±

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t want to reject you, Arthur.¡± She smiled, lips stretching a bit too wide. ¡°I want to see you destroy yourself with your own hands. I want to see you flay your own skin in search of your desires. I want to see you throw away everything that makes you you to become something more. Can you do that, pet?¡±

    She sat up on her elbows. ¡°My summoner has chained me with her little rules so you have a choice. If you refuse, I will end my trickery, as you call it. But you won¡¯t refuse, will you? I wouldn¡¯t have chosen you if you were that cowardly. Or less greedy.¡±

    Arthur glowered at her as he thought about her words and what awaited him. Then he shrugged off his shirt.

    Her laughter was shut off by his rough kiss. As he enjoyed the feeling of her soft lips and opened his mouth for her questing tongue, his lips itched and stung, as if dozens of ants were biting him. The thrall eagerly helped him shed his pants and their naked bodies pressing together was both exhilarating and agonizing.

    Arthur hissed in pain as his cock brushed against her thigh. ¡°Are you trying to kill me?¡± he growled as he pulled away from their kiss.

    ¡°Silly boy,¡± the thrall whispered. ¡°You can¡¯t die here. But you can hurt.¡±

    ¡°Ugh.¡± He bowed his head as sharp nails dug into his hips, pulling him against her.

    ¡°Please,¡± she whispered, her voice turning sweet and her lips pouting. ¡°I want it. I want you, Arthur. We¡¯ve been waiting for this for so long.¡± Her hands moved, dangerous nails trailing over his back softly, just enough to sting but never breaking skin. ¡°I¡¯m right here. All you have to do is take me. It¡¯ll be better than you could ever imagine.¡±

    When he hesitated again, one of her hands twisted in his hair and pulled until he yelled. ¡°Unless you¡¯re scared, shrimp. Going to wait for your daddy to give you permission? Can¡¯t do anything but follow a captain, huh? Always the ship monkey, a fool made to perform tricks because he can¡¯t play with the big boys.¡±

    Arthur¡¯s hand clapped over her mouth but her eyes remained mocking. Growling in frustration, he turned her over. His angry thoughts were clouded at the sight of her bare back. Goaded, aroused, and naturally impulsive, it was impossible for him to retreat.

    Preparing himself for the backlash, he ran his tongue over her supple skin. His mouth was filled with the taste of ambrosia but his tongue felt like it was being pulled apart a small piece at a time by a crab¡¯s pincers. As his fingers trailed her body, an invisible assailant trailed a hot poker over his.

    Each time he thrust inside her, some powerful force shattered his bones and mended them, condensing the pain of weeks of recovery into a single moment. It was excruciating but he couldn¡¯t stop himself, instinctively seeking the pleasure as the pain clouded his reason.

    He groaned with his climax, eyes rolling back into his head as his body shook. There was a moment of perfection that seemed to stretch for forever. Not even the beat of his heart dared to intrude. A small voice in the back of his mind thought he was dying and he couldn¡¯t work up the energy to care if this was the way he went.

    Then the moment ended and he was dropped into unparalleled agony. He was beaten, battered, shattered, shredded, and subjected to new kinds of pain he could never imagine. He screamed but vocalizing his suffering only seemed to amplify it. Tears burned his eyes but he couldn¡¯t spare a shred of concern for the embarrassing action.

    Just when his mind threatened to snap under the pain, the pleasure returned, more intense than before as it also brought with it relief. It was enough to make him want to worship the thrall, totally ignoring she was the source of his pain as well.

    But the relief didn¡¯t last long before the pain returned.

    The cycle continued again and again until pain and pleasure began to blur, only interrupted by spikes in feeling as the thrall had her way with his body. The indignities were the furthest thing from his mind as he struggled to hold onto his sanity. All he had to do was say no, to refuse, and the torment would end, but as he suffered under the pain, the thought of the coming pleasure held his tongue and it was always worth the wait. Still, he could only take so much.

    ¡°No¡­more,¡± he muttered.

    The torment stopped. With it, an end came to his consciousness, dropping him into darkness.

    When he regained his senses, he was lying on the floor of Lou¡¯s house, naked, the sun streaming through the open windows warming his skin. The thrall sat in a chair beside him, dressed in a plain white dress, smiling softly. Beside her was a silver cart topped with a wonderful smelling breakfast that made his stomach rumble.

    ¡°The sun is up,¡± the thrall whispered. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean the game has to end here. I like you, pet. You endure well and your suffering is sweet. I¡¯ve seen you. You want more than a little pleasure but the weak can have little else. So, I will make you strong¡­but only if you can pay the price.¡±

 Miniarc-An Average Day-Arthur (7)

    ¡°Oi. Oi, dog. Stop drooling on my floor and wake up.¡±

    Arthur blinked open his eyes, feeling a thick layer of crust resisting his efforts. He wiped his face with his palm, his limbs clumsy and heavy. He blinked rapidly as he sat up, feeling as if a stonehead whale was strapped to his chest.

    As his vision cleared of the fogginess of sleep, he made out Lou, dressed in a sheer nightgown that didn¡¯t suit her and carrying a mug that smelt of bitter tea. He flinched at the sight of her. ¡°¡­Lou?¡±

    ¡°The hell are you looking at me like that for?¡± the noblewoman muttered. She looked down at herself and grimaced. ¡°Yeah, it doesn¡¯t suit me but I asked Kierra to toss me something. She got a giggle out of it so it¡¯s fine.¡±

    She ran a hand through her hair. ¡°I was in such a hurry to get down here because I was¡­ah, fuck it. I was worried about you. You brought this on yourself but as a responsible summoner, I might feel a tiny bit guilty abandoning you to your fate. I¡­hey, are you listening to me?¡±

    Her words washed over the confused pirate as he grappled with her presence, wondering if he was losing his mind. Lou couldn¡¯t be standing in front of him. Nine years ago, with the help of the thrall, he had trapped the summoner in a hastily constructed cellar beneath her own home. He¡¯d kept her bound, gagged, and drugged so she couldn¡¯t order the thrall to act against him.

    Once he left the Hall, he¡¯d transported her in a box to Graywatch. He¡¯d used his earth magic to carve a cave into the face of one of the many cliffs and left her there, forever gazing out at the bleak sea.

    The last time he¡¯d seen her, she was nothing but skin and bones, her dark hair long and matted. Her confident violet eyes were glazed over with madness as her cracked, dry lips mumbled nonsense in reaction to his presence, despite not recognizing him. ¡°This¡­you¡¯re one of the thrall¡¯s tricks.¡±

    ¡°Oh saints. She did a number on you.¡±

    Arthur ignored her, eyes moving over the room as he searched for the source of his greatness and all his suffering. ¡°Come out! Explain your game.¡±

    ¡°No more games, Arthur. Look.¡± Lou jerked her head in the direction of the window, where the shades were drawn and sunlight poured into the living room. ¡°The sun is up, your bet is concluded, and my succubus has withdrawn her influence from your mind. No more games, no more tricks.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see.¡± He wobbled as he pushed to his feet. ¡°This is another reminder. I am fully aware how powerful you are. There is no need to mess with my mind. Simply tell me the price this time and let¡¯s see this done.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, this isn¡¯t¡­oh, this isn¡¯t working. Hey, get out here.¡±

    Soft clomping announced the arrival of the thrall. Arthur startled when he saw her. The creature had taken many forms throughout the decade of their partnership. Sometimes, it was a nightmare from the depths of the sea. Other times, it took seductive forms that could make a man lose his mind at a single glance. But it had never again taken the form it had when it served Lourianne Tome. He didn¡¯t know if it was out of disgust or respect to the summoner she betrayed.

    ¡°We all must wake from our dreams, pet.¡± The thrall chuckled. ¡°No matter how alluring they are.¡±

    ¡°I grow tired of your ploys,¡± Arthur snapped.

    ¡°Give me the short version of what happened,¡± Lou demanded. She closed her eyes, nodding periodically. Several minutes later, her eyes snapped open with a grimace. ¡°Saints damn it. I told you not to destroy him.¡±

    ¡°His reason remains intact,¡± the thrall said with a smile, tail whipping rapidly. ¡°He is merely operating under a few misconceptions.¡±

    ¡°A few? This sorry bastard has ten years of fake memories clouding his mind. He¡¯s completely different.¡±

    ¡°The impression of the memories is faint and I¡¯ve kept his personality intact. They will fade and he will know they are false.¡±

    ¡°And how long will that take?¡±

    ¡°It depends on how strongly he clings to the memories. If he accepts¡ª"

    ¡°Enough!¡± Arthur called on his mana. He didn¡¯t often use violence on the creature, as it always found ways to get even, but sometimes it took force to put an end to its games.

    But to his surprise, his mana core was significantly smaller than it should be. Where it had once been as vast as the ocean, it was a piddling pool in comparison.

    Almost¡­almost as if he had gone back in time ten years when he was still an initiate at the Hall.

    He ignored the strange weakness and tried to cast his spell anyway. He knew from experience that the thrall could mess with his perceptions but not even its powers could take away his mana. Even if he couldn¡¯t perceive it, it was still within him and would obey his will.

    The spell should have summoned the metal around him, reformed it into chains strengthened by his mana, and bound the thrall and the apparition of Lou. But when he willed his mana into the spell, nothing happened. Arthur stared at his hands in disbelief. ¡°What¡­¡±

    ¡°Hey, what did he just try to do? Seriously? Okay. Hey, Arthur. Look at me.¡±

    Her gaze was sympathetic, her violet eyes hooded. ¡°I need you to listen to me, alright? I¡¯ve gotten a brief rundown on what happened to you. You remember waking up after your bet concluded, saints, ten years ago? Listen. That was a trick. Everything that happened after that was a trick. It didn¡¯t happen. None of it was real.¡±

    Arthur scowled. ¡°No one can fake ten years of memory. However, confusing me for a few minutes is entirely within that creature¡¯s capabilities.¡± He brushed past Lou and dropped onto a couch, fighting a yawn. ¡°Let me know when you¡¯ve finished your game. I have business in the city today.¡±

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    Lou shook her head. She waved over the thrall and handed over the mug of tea. ¡°Go prepare breakfast¡­and maybe bring out the Herbanacle. This might be easier for him to swallow with something to wash it down.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, my summoner.¡±

    Arthur eyed the apparition of the noblewoman as she took a seat beside him. ¡°I don¡¯t know why it¡¯s showing me you. You¡¯re not scary or horrific. By the deep, I actually liked you.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh. And what supposedly happened to me?¡±

    ¡°Ah, is it trying to make me feel guilty? I did away with useless sentiment long ago. Locking you up was nothing personal but you should know a ship can¡¯t have two captains. If there was a chance you¡¯d have cooperated with me, I would have let you tag along. Wouldn¡¯t even have tried to sleep with you.¡±

    ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you the picture of mercy.¡±

    ¡°So? What are you here to do? Put me on a better path? Tempt me to a worse one?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to make you see sense.¡±

    Arthur grimaced as she grabbed him by the mouth and forced him to meet her eyes. The pain of her grip felt very real but the thrall could mess with his perceptions. What was strange was the look in Lou¡¯s eyes.

    In his memories, she was flippant and short-tempered. The woman staring at him now was cold and somber, her expression blank but her eyes serious. Something in the back of his mind niggled at him, scraping at his conviction, but he easily swatted it aside.

    ¡°Listen to me, you sorry bastard. I know you¡¯ve never heard of someone creating ten years of memories but that¡¯s only because you¡¯re thinking of human beings. My thrall is not simply stronger than most mental casters, she has centuries, if not millennia, of experience. She can turn your mind inside out without breaking a sweat.

    ¡°The last ten years you experienced is all fake. You¡¯ll come to realize that soon enough, as I forbade her from permanently altering you, but it¡¯ll go a lot easier if you stop fighting it.¡±

    ¡°I know full well what that creature is capable of,¡± Arthur muttered against her palm. ¡°But there would be no point. Why would that thing fake ten years of life? If all of it was fake, then everything I did for it, all that power it gained, never happened. Why would it waste so much time?¡± He scoffed. ¡°Isn¡¯t it far more likely that this conversation is a little spot of amusement to remind me of my place?¡±

    ¡°See, there you go again, thinking of a succubus like a human. Ten years for amusement may seem excessive to you but what is ten years to a creature that¡¯s immortal? And power? What power could you offer her that she couldn¡¯t get for herself? Why would she bother with you? Think about it.¡±

    Arthur frowned. ¡°She needed me to be the face. To bring the crews of Graywatch together and fend off the king. After the Great War, they wouldn¡¯t have accepted another creature as a sovereign.¡±

    ¡°Arthur¡­she¡¯s a shapeshifter. She could just become a human.¡±

    He blinked. The little worm of reason renewed its efforts to gnaw away his convictions but he suppressed it. ¡°A mental or physical caster could have discovered the truth. It was better to use a puppet ruler.¡±

    ¡°A mental caster? She¡¯s far better than anyone the kingdom could throw at her, something you should know. And a physical caster? She has that affinity too, you idiot. Besides, she can sniff them out. They wouldn¡¯t get within eyeline of her if she wanted. She would have nothing to fear from anyone.

    ¡°More importantly, it doesn¡¯t matter. Humans won¡¯t make deals with other races? What the hell do you have to say about Fortitude? A man-mutating abomination stole land from the king and killed hundreds of his knights and they still make nice with it.¡±

    She shook him lightly. ¡°Her influence was keeping you from drawing the obvious conclusion but you¡¯re free from it now. Think. There are too many things that don¡¯t make sense. First of all, you say you imprisoned me. Alone? I could kick your ass with my pinky.¡±

    ¡°The thrall helped.¡±

    ¡°Which is impossible. Do you think I¡¯m an idiot? She can¡¯t do anything to harm me. If she plotted against me, she would be destroyed by a power bigger than all of us. It is, very literally, impossible. But let¡¯s put that aside. What happened to the other people in the house? Let¡¯s start with Bell, my other elemental.¡±

    His brows furrowed. ¡°The imp ran off the night we attacked. I never saw it again.¡±

    ¡°Haha, hilarious. As if an elemental will just abandon its summoner. It¡¯d make more sense if you said Bell followed you. Moving on. The servants. Do you think you could get past Earl and Gajin? Maybe Gajin if he¡¯s not in the garden but Earl would slit your throat the second you showed hostile intentions.¡±

    Arthur blinked. ¡°The thrall took care of the servants.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so she dispatched my servants without waking either me or my wife with our incredible hearing? Amazing. Speaking of, what did you do with my wife? The elf with the pure physical affinity that could fight Dunwayne?¡±

    The worm of reason grew tiny legs tipped with claws and scratched at Arthur¡¯s convictions harder. ¡°¡­the thrall took care of her too.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Did you see that? It should have been amazing. I¡¯m sure they brought the house down at least. Did they shatter the Hall?¡±

    ¡°¡­I didn¡¯t see the fight. When I arrived at the house, the elf and the imp were gone, the servants were dead, and the thrall had you bound. My role was to create a cellar to hide you.¡±

    ¡°Does that make any sense to you? My wife wouldn¡¯t go down without a fight. A loud, messy fight. The whole Hall, saints, the whole kingdom would have known if they fought.¡±

    The worm of reason became a mole and started to dig vigorously.

    Lou saw something in his eyes and moved her hand. ¡°That¡¯s right. Think about it.¡±

    ¡°¡­Alana never came looking for you. I saw her around the Hall but we never spoke.¡±

    ¡°Which is damn strange. If I went missing, that stubborn girl would kick down every door in the Hall looking for me. Not to mention Miss Talia. And Miss Alyssa, being a part of the Grand Watch. That¡¯s not mentioning who would come looking for my wife. Aurelius, that bastard. The grandmaster. Her mother, saints save us all.¡±

    Arthur swallowed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±

    ¡°Stop thinking about it as a human. Succubi love manipulating others. This?¡± She waved a finger between them. ¡°This moment right here is enough for her to turn your mind inside out. I know you suffered.¡±

    ¡°But¡­I didn¡¯t suffer without cause. That creature demanded much from me but I got much in return.¡±

    Lou shook her head. ¡°She isn¡¯t a brute who gets off on flaying your skin and whipping you like human torturers. She¡¯s an artist. Anyone can hurt you. She made you hurt yourself by making you believe it served a purpose. Not to mention the pain you¡¯ll feel every time you remember what you did was all for naught.¡±

    Arthur stared at her blankly, heart thudding in his chest. ¡°It said it could make me the king of Graywatch¡­if I killed my father.¡±

    The noblewoman winced. ¡°Fuck. You actually did it?¡±

    ¡°It stopped leviathans from attacking in return for sacrificing a child every month.¡±

    ¡°Saints. Really? Wait, did you do that too?¡±

    ¡°For once, the city was able to grow without worry of it being destroyed. We built a wall that kept out the kingdom¡¯s army. We managed to cultivate farms.¡±

    ¡°But kids? Come on.¡±

    ¡°Not Graywatch¡¯s kids. I bargained for that. But in return, I had to hand them over personally¡­and listen.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    Arthur covered his face with his hands, his fingers trembling lightly. As the thrall said, the memories began to fade, things that used to be crystal clear losing detail with every passing moment, but the feelings were all too vivid. ¡°It made me choose between my wife and my son!¡±

    ¡°¡­you were married?¡±

    ¡°Why? WHY?!¡± he roared.

    Lou sighed as she stood. ¡°Because she could. You¡¯ll drive yourself mad if you dig deeper than that.¡± Her hand reached out to him but she stopped herself at the last moment and let it drop. ¡°Just¡­take some time. And never make bets with elementals, idiot.¡±

    She shook her head as she walked away from the young pirate as he grappled with reality.

 ARC 6-Winter War-01

    Snow has yet to fall but winter is upon us, pushing out the last vestiges of autumn. Even the days are cold, not just the nights. The sky is perpetually covered in thick, gray clouds and brisk winds creep beneath coats to chill the bones. More than enough to keep people in their homes, huddled around warm fires. Least, if it were the capital full of those with sensitive constitutions.

    Quest is in full swing despite the foul weather. A little chill isn¡¯t enough to stop the hunters, men and women possessing strong bodies and stronger wills. More importantly, in the magical and manabeast capital of the kingdom, there are plenty of furs and artifacts to keep them warm.

    A long resident of the city or an astute observer might notice the hunters are busier than usual. Normally, their work slows down in winter, as there are many monsters that sleep through the cold months. This year, those idle bodies are being put to a new purpose. Dozens if not hundreds of souls prepare to ride to Fort Victory, ready to join the next campaign into the Bleak Peaks.

    Unexpected events have led me to be amongst their number. Had someone asked me if I would ever risk my life in the north a year ago, I would have kindly asked them if they needed directions to a healer to see to their obvious head trauma. Now, not only am I not scared to enter the land of everlasting winter that has claimed the lives of thousands of elite fighters, I¡¯m quite optimistic about the result.

    But there is much to do before I set off. I need another teacher for the rest of my affinities. Then there is also my promise to myself to make the kingdom regret underestimating summoners, particularly the Tome family. There is also the matter of the house and the servants. I have to make sure they are taken care of in our absence.

    Two weeks. Barely enough time to get it all done. Doubt I¡¯ll get a full night¡¯s rest until it¡¯s time to depart.

    The rush is not entirely my fault. I would have preferred starting my preparations earlier but there were delays with the materials I ordered from the Guiness Company. They may be the best but they are only human. Things happen. My schedule for the foreseeable future is a mess but I can only thank the saints my things arrived at all.

    Maxine was good enough to offer a discount on the entire order, not a small amount of crowns as some of the things I require are quite rare. In the letter I received yesterday, she also promised to have everything ready for transport first thing.

    Well, I truly hope she meant first thing as I set off before the sun had risen. Its rays are weak as the carriage stops before the Guiness Company, not another soul on the road. It¡¯s even too early for the birds, their songs conspicuously absent.

    Not for the knights of the Guiness Company though. They stand straight and alert, their golden armor without a mar or a speck of dirt. I can feel their gazes on me as I head for the front door, accompanied by a yawning Kierra.

    The teller isn¡¯t nearly as alert. I can¡¯t make out his face with his head slumped and the bill of his cap obscuring his features. His chin is held in his hand and a book is spread out beneath him. Must be a bore if it failed in its purpose of keeping him awake.

    I slap the counter, grinning as he jumps with a muffled curse. To his credit, he recovers quickly. ¡°Pardon, lady. How can¡ª¡± He stops, gaze moving to Kierra. ¡°Ah! You wouldn¡¯t happen to be Lady Tome and Miss Kierra?¡±

    ¡°You know us, good. Then there will be no problem with us collecting my order. Quickly as possible.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­I¡¯m sorry. This is a bit unusual. The workers haven¡¯t arrived yet. There is no one to load the wagons.¡± He clears his throat. ¡°Some of the boxes are heavy and I wouldn¡¯t want to risk¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I can handle the boxes myself. As long as we can borrow a wagon. It¡¯d be a pain to find someone willing to lend us one on short notice.¡±

    ¡°No, borrowing it is fine so long as it¡¯s brought back.¡±

    ¡°No problem. Show us to the place.¡±

    ¡°Right this way.¡± He guides us to a discrete doorway that leads to a narrow hall. There are five doors. I¡¯m guessing the one at the end is another exit. One on the left is a water closet, from the smell.

    The teller opens the second door on the right. His eyes glow as a small flame appears at the tip of his finger, which he promptly uses to light a lantern by the door, then another on the opposite side. The light illuminates a small room stacked with boxes and bags.

    ¡°Your order is there.¡± The young man points to a pile of boxes stacked in a square of green paint. An interesting way to organize their storerooms. ¡°There are wagons out back. Feel free to use them as you please.¡±

    ¡°You sound as if you are in a hurry,¡± Kierra probes.

    ¡°Ah, yes. I know the manager was wanting to speak with the ladies. I will inform her of your arrival.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s here?¡± I ask with no small amount of surprise.

    ¡°Yes. She¡¯s been putting in extra hours to familiarize herself with the store.¡± I frown. Shouldn¡¯t Maxine be more than familiar with the store after several months? ¡°If you will excuse me.¡±

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    He bows before ducking out of the room.

    Once he closes the door, I close my eyes and focus only on what I can hear. I¡¯d go mad if I constantly paid attention to everything my senses pick up. Part of the adjustments to my body allows me to ignore most of what is around me but a simple application of focus lets me use them to their full extent.

    I easily track his progress as he moves to the front of the store and climbs the stairs behind his counter to the second floor that holds the meeting rooms used to discuss business or host important clients. There he knocks on a door. Two voices answer, only one familiar.

    ¡°Seems the store is under new management.¡± What Maxine feared has come to pass. Her father has dispatched one of her siblings to Quest. I open my eyes and offer my wife a rueful smile. ¡°What do you think? Trouble?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°Do you have time for trouble?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. Better get to work so we can make a hasty escape. I¡¯ll pull around the wagon if you can start checking on the boxes.¡±

    Kierra waves me off and I hurry down the hall. As expected, the last door is an exit. Nearby are two wagons and a single large stone. I quickly prop the door open with the stone and pull one of the wagons closer, noticing there are strings inside. Curious.

    When I return to the storeroom, Kierra is closing the lid of one of the wooden boxes. I snicker as she hammers the nails back in with a fist. ¡°Good?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Of the ones I¡¯ve checked, the materials appear to be in good condition and properly stored. Though the boxes all have rings on their sides for some reason.¡±

    Rings. ¡°Ah. The wagons have strings attached to their sides.¡±

    ¡°Then they are for securing. Clever.¡±

    ¡°It was a style developed by our sailors for securing cargo on the turbulent seas. The roads of the kingdom aren¡¯t quite as treacherous but it is always better to be safe than sorry. There is no loss quite like the loss of broken wares due to negligence.¡±

    I turn as two people enter the storeroom. One is Maxine, wearing a dark blue dress and a strained smile. She waves to us but keeps her silence, something I¡¯ve never known her to do. She has always been confident but something has her cowled.

    Likely the woman beside her. It¡¯s obvious they are related with a glance. Same honey skin. Same dark hair. Same smokey gray eyes. The similarities end with their coloring, besides which the woman is her opposite.

    Maxine Guiness is a pretty girl to anyone of good taste but¡­that¡¯s it. She¡¯s just pretty. It¡¯s of a level that can be achieved by most women with access to the right clothes and beauty products. Her looks are enhanced by the grace of a noblewoman but there are other kinds of charms. No man would reject her advances but they would hardly fight for her attention. Unlike the seductress beside her.

    Finely sculpted features, amorous eyes, and a coy smile. Those alone would be dangerous but they are accompanied by a sinful body she uses to full effect. The low-cut chest of her dress, her swaying hips as she struts across the room. Not overtly inappropriate but everything about her screams of her indecent intentions. Or maybe my intuition is compromised by my libido.

    ¡°Allow me introduce myself.¡± She drops into a perfect curtesy. ¡°Marcella Phillonia Guiness, daughter of Marquis Guiness, Maxine¡¯s elder sister, and the new manager of this store.¡±

    ¡°Quite a mouthful. Don¡¯t meet many people with third names.¡±

    ¡°My mother, she is a willful woman. My father likes his children named after him in some way but she was determined to keep the name she chose. You know merchants. Why choose when you can have both? So it came to be.¡±

    Very merchant like indeed. ¡°No need to introduce ourselves, I think.¡±

    ¡°But of course. Your reputation proceeds you.¡±

    ¡°All good things, I hope.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that depends on the listener.¡± She takes a step forward, inclining her head and lowering her voice as if she is sharing a secret. ¡°I heard of a woman of impressive daring, turning this rigid kingdom upside down. It¡¯s rare to find someone who defies tradition so readily, let alone outright scoffs at it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, not much daring. I don¡¯t have much of a choice. Nothing about me is traditional.¡±

    ¡°Quite.¡± Two more steps forward. Then she reaches out and grasps a strand of my hair, moving it between her fingers. ¡°You have gone out of your way to declare so. A dangerous way to live. I know, I speak from experience.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    She retracts her hand and steps back. ¡°Mm. My father and many merchants like him believe business should be cold and practical. There is no place for emotion in their negotiations.¡±

    ¡°Sounds logical.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. Very logical but are we creatures of logic only? I am certainly not a cold woman.¡± Her smile becomes a smirk, her eyes beckoning. ¡°I can¡¯t help putting passion into everything I do. Numbers are the core of good business but one does not need to be as inflexible as coin.

    ¡°I believe in soft negotiation, Lady Tome. Discussing properties over a drink, lending to one¡¯s neighbors, and signing contracts over dinner. When I close a deal, it makes me happy. It makes me want to celebrate and who better to celebrate with than my business partners who have brought me this joy?

    ¡°It builds a relationship, you see. My friends come to see me just to share a simple meal. When they hear a bit of gossip, they may write me a letter. Should they come across an opportunity and they wonder who to share it with, they naturally come to me over a cold, aggressive merchant whose only interest is robbing their coin purse.¡±

    I have met many brazen women, my wife the most of all, but I am never prepared for forward noblewomen. It is particularly unexpected because I know the environment they grow up in. Those that can defy a lifetime of being told to act a certain way are few.

    Not even Miss Talia breaks that mold. She propositioned me, much like Marcella is doing now, but was far more subtle. Drawing me in with insinuations and letting me reach a conclusion. Even that was out of character, an effort made to seize a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

    If Marcella is to be believed, I am hardly an exception to be the target of her advances.

    ¡°Have I shocked you?¡± she asks, looking not at all bothered by the suggestion. ¡°I hope not. I was so excited to meet you, believing I had found a kindred spirit.¡±

    ¡°Kindred spirit?¡±

    ¡°A woman of passion.¡±

    I swallow heavily. ¡°Well, I admit I¡¯m shocked but maybe in a good way.¡±

    ¡°Haha, you certainly live up to the rumors! Do you have a few moments? I understand you¡¯re in a rush but I¡¯d love to have a conversation. I¡¯ve recently discovered a wonderful bakery, the last thing I expected to find in this city of brutes. Please, say you¡¯ll join me.¡±

    I¡¯m torn. I am in a hurry to get to work and had no intentions of tarrying at the store. However, the plan of quickly grabbing my things and hurrying back to the Hall did not cover meeting such an interesting character. And entertaining. I have a feeling I¡¯d enjoy that conversation, her more carnal intentions aside. Unfortunately, I¡¯m not quite sure how Alana would feel about it with our fledgling relationship and I¡¯d never risk her feelings.

    Before I can make up my mind, I feel a light touch on the back of my neck. At a volume only someone with our enhanced hearing could hear, my wife whispers to me, ¡°No.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-02

    No?

    What does she mean no?

    I discretely turn my head to glance up at her, catching her expression. There is amusement there, but not her usual amusement of someone watching an interesting show. There is darkness to it that reminds me of a predator stalking helpless prey. I know her so well, that little glance is enough for me to understand her meaning.

    She disapproves.

    Since I have known her, my wife has made it her mission to unleash my desires. She believes that strong desires are the key to strength. Those who want more fight harder.

    The easiest of those desires to stoke is my lust. I am easily entranced by a beautiful woman and my wife has been pushing me toward anyone who catches my eye. Daring me to do what the monogamous teachings of the kingdom would call unthinkable. Beastly, as my lovely future saint constantly categorizes me as.

    I have not been so accommodating to the men who eye her. Months ago, she told me that it is the right of either of us to approve or disapprove of other partners. Should we disapprove, it is our right and our duty to drive off the unworthy. And for the first time, she is exercising that right.

    I don¡¯t understand why she is deciding to do so but that doesn¡¯t matter. I need to act decisively, as what I do next will determine Marcella¡¯s future. Unlike me, Kierra will have no problem putting her ideologies into practice. I don¡¯t want to imagine what will happen to this brazen but innocent woman if she continues making eyes at me.

    ¡°Afraid I don¡¯t have time, Lady Guiness. My schedule is too full to spare even a moment. Once I load these boxes, we¡¯ll be on our way.¡±

    Marcella blinks, no doubt stunned at my abrupt rejection. Ah, I apologize. I hate to be so ruthless. Usually, I would never be so brusque to such a charming woman. It¡¯s for her own good. Even if it wasn¡¯t, my wife has spoken. My first concern will always go to my partners. If she says no, then it is no.

    ¡°A shame. Though I understand. These materials, they are needed for a summoning. I have done some research into the art and know you will be incredibly busy in the coming days. Summoning requires considerable dedication.¡±

    ¡°Dedication and time, of which I am lacking. Pardon me.¡±

    I ignore Marcella¡¯s disappointed pout as I grab the first box and hurry from the room, settling it carefully on the wagon waiting by the exit.

    ¡°Not going to ask me why?¡±

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    Kierra is waiting at the door with another box.

    ¡°Does it matter?¡± I take the box from her hands and settle it on the wagon. ¡°Though perhaps you should take her up on her offer of a conversation.¡±

    Kierra raises a brow. ¡°Why would you want me to do that, dedia? You wouldn¡¯t be hoping that after a talk I will rescind my rejection? Are you that eager for this one?¡±

    ¡°Eager for another woman before my beautiful wife?¡± I grin as I brush a hand across her cheek, smile widening as she grabs my wrist and nuzzles against my palm. ¡°Will you tell me why you don¡¯t like her?¡±

    ¡°Our star, our flower. One for each of us to dote on, hm? One each to soften us. Another is unnecessary. If it were just lust, perhaps, but her eyes speak of ambition. She wants a piece of you, I think, but what can a soft girl who has spent her life perfecting the art of taking from others offer you? Our house? Our clan? No, I don¡¯t think I will take to her.¡±

    I nod, sighing in understanding. ¡°Then you really should speak with her. The Guiness ambition lies with you. If she thinks you are willing to give her the slightest amount of consideration, she will forget me in a moment.¡±

    ¡°Are you not afraid I will fall for her charms?¡±

    I take a moment to admire such a scene. No doubt Marcella would try to wrap my wife around her fingers, thoroughly underestimating her. She¡¯d give an invitation and Kierra would take it with enthusiasm. Bet she¡¯d rip her dress right off her and dive in. Mm. Mmm~

    ¡°Have at it.¡±

    Kierra laughs. ¡°I am surprised! My greedy Lou is ready to share me? When she has pledged the death of the last human attempting to steal my affections?¡±

    I scowl. ¡°That is a very different thing. He is an arrogant, bald bastard who floats to make it easier to look down on others. She is a beautiful and charming woman who is practically throwing herself at our feet. I have no problem with you playing with the ¡®pets¡¯, do I?¡±

    ¡°Is that it?¡± She leans forward, lowering her voice to a coy whisper. ¡°Do you want to watch me break her, Lou? Have you gained an interest in watching? Picked up a habit from our star?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t object but I doubt I¡¯d have the time. Or for whatever game she is trying to play.¡±

    I know how nobles work, how they think. Marquis Guiness wants my wife¡¯s cooperation. He has tried the soft touch, sponsoring me to the Grand Hall and sending Maxine along to make nice. Subtly is always the preferred option but when it doesn¡¯t work, they can¡¯t be blamed for employing more forceful methods.

    That is Marcella. She is the more forceful sister. I am sure after a year of nothing, the marquis is desperate for progress of any kind. If Marcella has promised results, there is no telling what she will do to get them.

    I have dealt with far too many problems involving the nobles of this kingdom this year. With the campaign, the mess in the capital, and my own goals, the last thing I need to be concerned about is what that vixen could be getting up to.

    ¡°Do this for me, my love. Let her serve you a cup of tea and those pastries she thinks are so impressive. Let her believe she is gaining traction. If you wish to take it further, enjoy yourself, but keep her away from me!¡±

    Kierra stares at me for a long moment. Then she chuckles. ¡°I will sacrifice myself for your comfort and make nice with the silly girl, little conqueror.¡± She kisses me, a brief peck on the lips. ¡°In return, you will give me a good show, hm? The last summoning was quite entertaining and our pets are so amusing. I¡¯m looking forward to the next one.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t have to worry about being left out.¡± I grab her hand and pull her along as we re-enter the store. ¡°In fact, your presence is a necessity.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-03

    Maxine smiled, thoroughly enjoying her older sister¡¯s discomfort as Lou hastily left the room, quickly followed by her wife. It was undignified to rub a victory in someone¡¯s face but she wanted to laugh at Marcella¡¯s slight frown. ¡°It would seem your charms are failing you, sister.¡±

    ¡°I hardly expected them to swoon at my feet during the first conversation. Rather than not caring for my charms, I get the feeling Lady Tome was preoccupied. Too preoccupied to even notice her friend.¡± She raised a brow at Maxine who smoothed her features into an even mask. ¡°More importantly, you need to work on your letters, Maxie. You never told me she was such a treat~¡±

    ¡°I mentioned that she had improved her looks through magic.¡±

    ¡°Does a caterpillar simply improve its looks when it emerges as a butterfly? That is not an improvement. That is a metamorphosis. I could stare into those eyes many nights without getting tired. Oh, if I could have both on either side of me. A scene worthy of a master artist.¡±

    ¡°No artist would sink to painting such a vulgar sight.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing vulgar about beauty. Something you should know as a Guiness.¡±

    ¡°As a Guiness, you should know the opposite.¡±

    Footsteps stopped them from continuing their soft bickering. Kierra re-entered the room. Her eyes found Maxine, who offered her a smile¡­then her gaze moved to her sister. ¡°My Lou is intent on spoiling me and is getting excited over the thought of me carrying a few boxes. I thought I would take you up on your offer of conversation. It won¡¯t be long.¡±

    ¡°Anytime we have together is a treasure, Miss Kierra. Please.¡± Marcella wore a wide grin as she led Kierra from the room. In the doorway, she threw a glance at Maxine over her shoulder. It contained two messages. A warning for her to stay out of the way and a small gloat that things were going the way Marcella wanted, as they always did.

    Maxine¡¯s fingers twitched as she watched them disappear with disbelief. More footsteps caught her attention. She straightened as Lou entered the room, wondering how to broach the subject of Kierra going off with her sister. Did Lou know? Would she care? Would she join them? Were they going to do business with her? Where would that leave Maxine?

    She hoped to catch a peak at Lou¡¯s expression, needing a sign of how to proceed. To her growing frustration, Lou never looked her way. The summoner went straight for her boxes, stacking three atop one another before exiting the storeroom at a quick pace. Never once looking at Maxine.

    She stood in the silent storeroom for several moments, emotions swirling turbulently. Then, something hot broke through, flushing her. One of her hands balled into a fist and before she could think about it, she was stomping from the room and throwing open the back door. ¡°Lou!¡±

    Lou looked up from settling a box on the wagon. ¡°Yeah? You needed something?¡±

    Did she need something? Yes. She needed answers. ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡± Her frustration grew as she watched the other noblewoman¡¯s brows furrow. As if she couldn¡¯t fathom why Maxine would ask such a question ¡°You couldn¡¯t even spare a greeting for me.¡± Despite chatting so happily with Marcella.

    Her frustration grew as Lou stared at her blankly. ¡°Kierra is having tea with my sister.¡± She tried not to get emotional. She was taught better. There was no place for emotion in business. But Marcella had proved that wrong, hadn¡¯t she? Bitterness colored her tone.

    ¡°¡­is she really that much better than me?¡± A foolish question to ask Lou who had only known her sister for a day, but Maxine wasn¡¯t really talking to Lou. The question was addressed to the specter of her father that lived in her mind and the world itself. ¡°I thought we were friends. Friendly enough, at least. Enough that I never took your refusal to do business with my family personally. Yet in one day, Kierra is¡ª¡± Her lips trembled as she fought to keep her expression neutral. ¡°Is it¡ª¡±

    ¡°Max.¡± Lou¡¯s voice was full of exasperation. ¡°I consider you a friend, I do, and I¡¯m sorry if I hurt your feelings. My mind is somewhere else.¡± She hopped from the wagon with an easy grace. ¡°Good morning, Max. Hope you have a pleasant day. I need to finish this.¡±

    Lou moved past her without looking back. Maxine knew when she was being dismissed. She saw Lou¡¯s retreating back and thought of her grinning sister. Something snapped. ¡°I see!¡± Her shout caused Lou to look over her shoulder. ¡°I wasn¡¯t worth the thought.¡±

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not what I said¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Lady Tome. I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. Your reputation precedes you. I¡¯m not the type of woman who can catch your attention.¡± Inwardly, Maxine cringed but another part of her was reveling the combined relief and satisfaction of venting.

    She felt vindicated when Lou frowned. ¡°I just said I thought of you as a friend but I¡¯m wondering if you think the same of me. You¡¯re not using a very friendly tone, Lady Guiness. In fact, I¡¯d say you were trying to insult me.¡±

    ¡°Well, there is no point in flattering you, is there? I¡¯ve been doing that for months to no affect. I thought it was pointless, but clearly, I wasn¡¯t doing it right.¡± Maxine¡¯s breath quickened as her heart pounded. ¡°She tried to give me some ¡®advice¡¯, pull me into her game. I told her, your usual methods won¡¯t work. Lou and her wife will see right through you. No matter what the rumors say, she isn¡¯t the type to lose her mind over a pretty face. Clearly, I overestimated your restraint.

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    ¡°No, a pretty face isn¡¯t required, I suppose. Alana is hardly a blossoming rose but you¡¯ve been panting over her since spring. I suppose it¡¯s whoever is willing. At least she has the good manners to keep her¡ª¡±

    Maxine knew she had gone too far mentioning Alana. Her stomach twisted as Lou¡¯s face darkened but her mouth continued to move, like something had possessed her. She expected a reprisal but she was caught off guard as Lou moved too fast for her to follow, yelping as the front of her dress was grabbed and she was yanked forward, forced to balance on the tips of her toes.

    Lou leaned forward until their noses were almost touching and whispered, ¡°Since we¡¯ve decided to share our hearts, I¡¯ll tell you some truths, my friend. I was more taken with your sister in a single conversation than I¡¯ve ever been with you. And you¡¯re right, it¡¯s not because of her pretty face, though it certainly helps. It¡¯s her guts. The woman is a whore playing at being a noblewoman and damn proud of it. Charming, too. She¡¯s right. If I had to choose to do business with someone, I would certainly choose her over a copper-pinching merchant or a girl who only cares about making daddy happy.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s breath caught as she was pinned by violet eyes. They were always unnatural, exotic to the point of being strange, but only now, with less than a handspan between them, could the young merchant feel the power behind them. She could feel herself getting lost in their secrets when she was shoved backwards, stumbling over her own feet but catching herself before she tripped.

    But Lou wasn¡¯t done with her. ¡°Do you know why I haven¡¯t shown much interest in you despite us having known each other for months? You bore me. Without the Guiness family, what are you? If your father cut your sister off, she¡¯d be just fine. Saints, better than fine. You? I think you¡¯d just crumble to pieces.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I thought we were being truthful with one another. Clearly, you don¡¯t think much of yourself. Otherwise, you wouldn¡¯t cling so tightly to your father¡¯s coattails.¡±

    Maxine simply stared at her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Lou¡¯s glare abated and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. ¡°This is stupid. Look, Max, you¡¯re a good person. Pleasant to be around. Like I said, I consider us friends. I thought I said hello and didn¡¯t mean to slight you, truly. And being just friends is fine. I don¡¯t only have relationships with women I¡¯m trying to sleep with. You¡¯re not¡­to my tastes, to be honest.¡±

    Maxine looked away. She didn¡¯t particularly want the other woman to find her attractive. Lou was assuredly one of the most attractive women Maxine had ever seen, taking in account her sister and Kierra, but she didn¡¯t think of her in that way. Still, being rejected irked.

    ¡°If it makes you feel better, Marcella doesn¡¯t have us fooled or whatever else you¡¯re thinking. We still have no intention of doing business with your family. Really, you people need to suck it up and hire some suicidal idiots to storm the forest. Don¡¯t tell me there aren¡¯t enough of them because dozens are about to march to their deaths in the Bleak Peaks.¡±

    ¡°The price of hiring that many hunters and paying their death benefits is too much for my father to accept,¡± Maxine mumbled.

    ¡°That!¡± Lou snapped, making her jump. ¡°That is why you¡¯re not very interesting to me, both personally and professionally. I¡¯ve spent most of my life pushed around by other people¡¯s whims and I hated every moment of it. I could have walked away, of course. Made my own life. But I was too cowardly to make something of myself. Risk the unknown and give up my horrible but secure life. I hated that weakness. And I hate seeing it in others.

    ¡°Your sister¡¯s methods are crude and inappropriate in the eyes of the kingdom but at least she¡¯s got daring. She makes a mark on anyone who meets her and she¡¯s found a way to stand out from your, what, dozen siblings?¡±

    ¡°Sixteen.¡±

    ¡°Saints bless, your father is certainly¡­virile.¡± Maxine snickered inwardly as Lou briefly frowned in distaste. The noblewoman had no tolerance for men, even in her imagination. ¡°Well, do you think you are going to stand out from sixteen eager heirs by being proper and agreeable? If you haven¡¯t figured it out by now, the answer is no.

    ¡°Saints¡¯ blessed asses, Max, I want to cheer for you but you have to do something. If you want to win, stop picking bones about how and get your hands dirty. Don¡¯t make me an offer I can¡¯t refuse because it doesn¡¯t exist. Make me an offer I never expected, one that makes me fall to the floor in laughter. Get clever. Get devious. Get nasty. Or do you really want to live the rest of your life under your family¡¯s heels?¡±

    No, she didn¡¯t. Maxine hung her head as she contemplated the words.

    ¡°I asked Kierra to have a conversation with your sister because I do not need a woman like that plotting against me right now. I¡¯m far too busy to deal with her myself. See, I can¡¯t afford to ignore her. Though I felt forced to intervene before she got any ideas, I chose to talk with you when I could have just walked off. That should say something.¡±

    ¡°¡­what would you have me do?¡± Maxine finally asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Do I look like a merchant? Ah, that¡¯s not the point. I don¡¯t have good advice for you though. Someone changed the path my life was taking and Kierra was there to walk me down it. I don¡¯t know how people like us turn things around on their own. That¡¯s why it¡¯s so damn impressive when they do.¡± Lou scratched the back of her neck. ¡°I, uh, apologize if I was too harsh. My temper got away from me a bit.¡±

    ¡°No. It¡¯s¡­alright. I provoked you. Besides, you¡¯ve given me something to think about.¡± A lot of things to think about. ¡°I apologize as well. You are my friend, Lou, and I would hate to lose you because I made you a target for my frustrations.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. At least have the decency to be drunk first.¡±

    ¡°Will you give me the opportunity to buy you a drink to make up for it? To celebrate your successful summonings.¡±

    Lou laughs. ¡°I appreciate your confidence but I don¡¯t have the time, swear to the saints. I¡¯m joining the campaign to the Bleak Peaks.¡± Maxine sucked in a sharp breath. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Maxine calmed her instinctive panic. Yes, with Kierra beside her, Lou would make it back. She was startled to realize her first thought went to the noblewoman rather than the elf her family was interested in, which should have made Kierra her first interest. She reasoned it was because she had far less doubts about Kierra¡¯s ability to defend herself.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to get back to these boxes.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with your sister, huh? Shove her headfirst into the Abyss.¡±

    ¡­perhaps she might. ¡°See you in the spring, Lou.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-04

    ¡°Welcome back, my lady.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    Earl and Bell are waiting by the front door upon our arrival, having known I would be returning with supplies. ¡°Morning, you two,¡± I call as I hop out of the carriage and point to the wagon hitched to the back. ¡°Bring them to the spare room and stack them in the hall.¡±

    Unfortunately, the manors provided by the Hall do not come with dedicated summoning rooms. Some have basements to be used as workshops or extra storage but they are few and Kierra¡¯s favor doesn¡¯t extend that far. That leaves me to make do with a guest room. I hope no one is too upset with the mess I¡¯ll have to make of it.

    I leave my supplies in their capable hands, ruffling Earl¡¯s hair as I pass on my way to the bedroom. It takes a moment to locate my notes that are tucked away in the bottom drawer of our dresser, flipping through the sheaf of papers quickly to reassure myself they¡¯re all in order. Then I move to the spare bedroom.

    I cleared it yesterday, leaving nothing but the hardwood floors and a single table, upon which I place my notes, separating them into two piles. There is also a box of smudgesticks and a rag to wipe away any mistakes.

    Completing two summonings in as many weeks is definitely rushing the process but I¡¯ve been planning them for months. Well, one of them. The teacher for my other elements, wind and light. I¡¯ve also included the null affinity, as there is clearly some sort of space shenanigans involved with my elemental form. I¡¯d go for celestial as well but prophets, or celestials as Geneva calls them, are nothing but trouble.

    Now that the initiate year is over and my time is my own, I can get to the main reason I came to the magical school, improving myself. Exploring the mysteries of my elemental body and mastering my seven affinities.

    The second summoning is rushed, prepared in only a few weeks. A reaction to the outrageous decrees planned by the crown. I wonder if they¡¯ve been announced by now. Given the events of the year, it¡¯s not an unreasonable action by the king. Some could argue the sanctions are long overdue, given the actions of the Masons, formerly Grimoires.

    I have two problems with it. The first is that the crown plans to sanction the whole of the summoner community without bothering to consult them. The Tomes, the oldest and most prestigious summoners of the kingdom, didn¡¯t get so much as a letter asking their opinions. Or even a courtesy warning they were thinking of such drastic measures to give us time to appeal to the king. Offensive doesn¡¯t begin to describe it.

    Wors, they dared to use these sanctions to threaten me. Elementals are bound to their summoners for life. Only death can separate them. To be rid of an elemental whose presence is declared illegal by the crown means ending its life. If the summoner is unable to, they will be detained or executed themselves. They meant to use that to coerce me into serving the kingdom. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they tried the same with others.

    Clearly, they are underestimating us and we, all summoners of the kingdom, are understandably upset. I may not be ready to drop a darkkon on the king¡¯s head or whatever those madmen my uncle is mixed up with have planned, but I plan to make my unhappiness known.

    A nuisance summon will do it. Nothing drastic but problematic enough that it will garner the proper attention. Something that will have the elites pulling their hair out and can only be solved by a knowledgeable summoner.

    I¡¯m planning to do the nuisance summon first. Why? Simple. For the elemental I plan to serve as my second teacher, I need some assistance securing a contract. Rather, the chances of doing so are vastly improved by the presence of Kierra, Alana, and Miss Talia.

    Two of the three have no experience with summoning. I¡¯m not concerned about Miss Talia, as she seems fairly unflappable, but Alana could use the chance to familiarize herself with the process. Get all the awe and questions out of the way so there¡¯s less chance of her making a mistake when it matters.

    The creature is called a shubashuba of the Dark Lord¡¯s Dominion. As an incorporeal being of relatively little power, it drew my father¡¯s attention while he was researching his Zero Affinity Theory. The record about them was written by a summoner from one of the old kingdoms, translated and passed down through the generations. The creature¡¯s name is from one of the old tongues. If the record can be believed, it translates to ¡°dark dark¡±.

    Not very creative but an apt descriptor. The name of the realm is rather direct as well.

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    The shuba is a strange creature. As an incorporeal being, naturally it is quite different from those of us made of flesh. Particularly in the way it ¡°eats¡±. It doesn¡¯t feed on fruits, grain, or meat. Doesn¡¯t need water or air, sunlight or good soil.

    No, shuba feed off negative thoughts. Geneva says the thoughts of intelligent creatures gives off energy and shuba feed off the energy of bad ones. Depressive musings, angry mutterings, grief, and pain. They can¡¯t get enough, gorging themselves until they swell like a putrid sore.

    Then, just like sores, they burst when they get too full, spreading the sickness. From one shuba, a dozen more can be born. Then they repeat the cycle again.

    Naturally, like any other creature, they have ways of securing their sustenance. As the summoner who wrote the record put it, they ¡°foul the air¡±. Their very presence degrades living things. Plants wither, animals sicken, and men go mad.

    At least when there¡¯s a chuckle of them, the original summoner¡¯s word for a horde of the creatures so thick you can feel the weight of them on the air. One or twenty and the effects are barely noticeable. Enough to make people irritable. Quicker to anger.

    I¡¯m taking the little troublemaker with me to the north. The campaign is guaranteed to be rife with negative thoughts. Fear, grief, anger. The thing is going to eat itself silly, I suspect.

    Then I¡¯ll send whatever horde emerges straight to the capital. See how the crown likes dealing perpetually unhappy people, heh. It won¡¯t take long for the shuba to spread along King¡¯s Road, bringing discontent to the whole of the kingdom.

    I¡¯ll let them suffer a bit before swooping in to save them. The shubas will be blamed on uncle¡¯s group and I will be the hero. The populace will have villains to show them the horrors of summoning and a summoner to admire. From there, I¡¯ll make sure the community has a proper voice in the kingdom. Make sure they never have the audacity to unilaterally sanction us again.

    One would ask what this will cost me. Nothing but the materials used to build my circle. In order to catch my father¡¯s attention, they needed to have a coefficient of one. They were useless to him as every last one of them has the light affinity but that presents no problem to me.

    They are perfect. Incredibly obedient and eager to form a contract with no stipulations. There is even a chance that I can get more than their service from this contract if I play my cards correctly.

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell appears in the doorway, turning her big four eyes onto me. [Master Lou, all the boxes have been placed.]

    ¡°Good. Make sure I¡¯m not disturbed until it¡¯s time for the meeting. Oh, Alana should be stopping by. Rouse me if she appears and make sure she¡¯s comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    The imp scampers off and I close the door behind her. Time to get to work.

    As always, it begins with the circle. The perfect circle, taking up much of the floor. From there, each line is carefully considered, each squiggle and curve meant to represent a greater idea. Normally.

    There¡¯s no need for it this time as my circle has already been prepared by the original summoner. It¡¯s rare to leave them in a record and rarer for another summoner to copy from it. This is an art of intention. A bit of the summoner goes into every circle. Copying another will bring forth what that person intended, not necessary what the copier intends.

    Shubas are an exception. I¡¯ve compared my father¡¯s record to one in the Summoning Hall. There is only one image the shuba responds to. Shubaregum, or ¡°dark lord¡±.

    The Dark Lord is a mysterious creature. For one, it is nothing like the shuba but reigns over them with absolute authority, much like lower and higher ranked succubi. Three things are known about it for certain: a fraction of its appearance as it remains cloaked in tendrils of darkness, its intelligence, and its control over the shuba.

    It is for the Dark Lord that the shuba form contracts and travel to other realms. Upon their summoner¡¯s death, they return bloated with negative energy to offer to the creature. Why, I have no idea and no concern. It¡¯s safely tucked away in another realm, after all.

    There is no need to get creative. In the circle, I copy the Dark Lord as it appears in the record. A vaguely humanoid body that is swollen and strangely thin in odd placements. A goat-like head with great curling horns and three eyes, two mammalian and a third vertical reptilian eye on its forehead. The flared tail feathers of a bird, an eye on the end of each.

    A creature ripped from a child¡¯s worst nightmare. All the more terrifying because it truly exists.

    It takes many tries to get it right, as I¡¯m much better with interpretive work than detailed art. After several hours, I¡¯ve copied it perfectly, to my eyes at least.

    Still doesn¡¯t feel right. Summoning is a personal art but there is nothing of me in this circle. I feel¡­detached from it. Ah well. Hopefully, I¡¯d feel better about it after I¡¯ve gotten personal with the carving and laying out the embellishments.

    [Master Lou, Alana has arrived.]

    ¡°Hm?¡± I look up from my work to find Bell in the doorway. Oh, good. She remembered not to enter. I trust her not to damage anything but there are certain habits that are deeply ingrained in me. One of which is to guard my summoning room viciously.

    I slowly stand up and stretch. Not that this body gets stiff but it feels good. I need a break anyway. With my new strength, I¡¯ll have to be especially careful carving. Best to do so fresh.

    I scoop up Bell as I step into the hallway, giving her a nuzzle. She¡¯s always so warm. Soft as a cushion with a pleasantly smooth surface like the water-washed stones the village boys used to grab from creek beds.

    ¡°You watch this room for me.¡± Leaving a circle before the summoning is complete goes against all my instincts. I can only do so because a circle five virtue is protecting my work.

    [Everything will be as you left it.]

    ¡°I¡¯m counting on you.¡± I set my lovely imp down and hurry to the sitting room. Don¡¯t want to keep my companion for tonight waiting.

 ARC 6-Winter War-05

    Alana is seated on one of the couches, munching through a plate of cookies. The smile that springs to my face seeing her wanes at the ends as I take her in.

    It¡¯s been a week since our sleepover, a little over two since we confirmed our feelings for one another. The last time I saw her, she was trying to hide her reluctance to leave as she boarded our carriage back to her dorm, a smile on her lips and her face flushed.

    Now, she looks haggard. Her skin looks a little pale and her eyes have the faintest dark bags under them. Her blond hair was getting a bit long and it¡¯s finally got the cut it needed. Far more than I expected, sheared until the ends of it barely touches her ears.

    Her clothes are spotted with dirt, telling me she¡¯s been taking her training more seriously than usual. More telling is the tension in her shoulders. Normally, Geneva¡¯s cooking has her floating in a world of pleasure but her eyes are hard as she chews with force.

    ¡°Hey, you.¡± My smile regains some strength as she looks up.

    ¡°Hey.¡± She moves to set down her plate but I stop her, guiding it back to her lap as I sit beside her. ¡°We have to get going.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got a moment to say a proper hello.¡± I eye her, gauging how she¡¯d respond to a kiss, but decide against it. ¡°I missed you. Thought you would drop by at least once.¡±

    Alana sighs. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Hm? I¡¯m not angry or anything. I am curious what has you looking so worn out.¡±

    My future saint averts her eyes and rubs her brow. ¡°You know my father is paying for me to attend the Hall. The arrangement was that I would spend five terms here and the intervening winters at Victory. While I¡¯m here, I¡¯m to split my time between the masters here and a teacher prepared by my father. While there, I would gain practical experience with the orders and join the campaigns.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Sounds familiar.

    ¡°My teacher has arrived.¡±

    ¡°Ah. But you don¡¯t need him.¡± I haven¡¯t shared the secret of my seven affinities with her yet. Something like that needs proof. Of which I plan to give her using the summoning. I¡¯m not quite ready to expose my true, glossy self. That needs to be broached carefully.

    In the meantime, Kierra has assured her she has a way to train Alana¡¯s affinity. With the sheer confidence that woman oozes, my dear knight didn¡¯t bother to ask how, taking her at her word.

    ¡°Sir Polluck, that¡¯s his name. He¡¯s made arrangements to be here until we ride for Victory. It¡¯d be inconvenient to leave early. I¡¯ve agreed to work with him until then. No matter what, he is a veteran of the Bleak Peaks. He¡¯s bound to have useful advice.¡±

    ¡°Looks like he¡¯s working you hard.¡±

    ¡°The knights of Victory aren¡¯t known to be gentle.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I scoot closer, leaning toward her. ¡°You¡¯re pretty sweet to me.¡±

    There it is, the flush I can bring to her cheeks so easily. ¡°That¡¯s cause I¡¯m not a knight yet.¡±

    ¡°Oh? So if you do join an order, are you planning to get¡­rough with me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d probably like that, damn pervert.¡±

    I let out a deep breath and lean back. If only I had time to continue. ¡°Don¡¯t tease me. I hope you¡¯re getting your time¡¯s worth from this Sir Portly.¡±

    ¡°Polluck. How are you so bad with names? And it¡¯s mainly drills. We¡¯re going to be part of a large, armed force. Discipline is a necessity. When someone shouts an order, everyone needs to know what to do and do it flawlessly. Maybe you should join me.¡±

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    ¡°Pass.¡± Time aside, I don¡¯t plan on being a good soldier. I¡¯m not going to the north to make nice with the knights. My goals are to make my mark and protect Alana. Doubt I¡¯m going to do that following the people who¡¯ve been failing for centuries.

    I stand as Alana finishes the last of her treats and offer her a hand. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡±

    -

    No ordinary event could draw me from my work. Our outing isn¡¯t particularly special but I did promise to be here and I don¡¯t go back on my word easily.

    A while back, while enjoying a night in the city, I stopped at the bar owned by Howie, the half goblin-half elf bartender. He¡¯s from Twilight, the elven province known for their strange breeding practices and alchemy.

    Maybe because of that, the drinks he brews are damn near potions. So much so, the guilds have been attempting to scout him for a long time.

    Howie is thoroughly against the idea but they managed to grab his attention when they offered him work providing his brews by the barrel for the campaign. As they aren¡¯t calling him a potion maker and offering a fair amount of gold, he¡¯s inclined to help them. However, he¡¯s concerned, with good reason, that they¡¯ll try to muscle him into signing an unfair contract.

    That¡¯s where I come in.

    I will be standing by to make sure everyone behaves themselves. If someone reaches for the gangly goblin, I smack their hand away. Once the contract is signed and hands are shaken, I make sure the nice hunters leave the establishment amicably and warn them about returning with nefarious intentions.

    It¡¯s a bit silly to play hired muscle but Howie is a friend. More importantly, he¡¯s the best brewer in the kingdom. Whenever I get in the mood to go out, his bar is always a stop on the agenda. Compared to him, every other place serves bath water. Can¡¯t have him getting taken advantage of.

    Alana¡¯s interest is taking a peek at the guilds who¡¯ve joined the campaign. Apparently, outsiders assisting is a fairly new practice, promoted by her father after he became duke. Seems the knights of Victory didn¡¯t believe there were idiots as suicidal as themselves. As a fellow outsider, I¡¯m expected to work with them. She wants to take a look at my future comrades.

    We arrive early and, as usual, the place is deserted except for a single customer seated on the last stool at the counter. That person is always there whenever I come, hunched over a mug, their features obscured by the large hood of their cloak.

    More than once, I¡¯ve wonder if it¡¯s actually a dummy underneath there, a figure of sticks and straw posed as a decoration so Howie can claim his bar isn¡¯t always empty. The illusion is occasionally ruined by a gloved hand raising their mug.

    Despite my curiosity, I¡¯ve never spoken to them. The stranger has a very strong ¡°fuck off¡± aura that deters any thoughts of casual conversation.

    The owner is in his usual place behind the counter, wiping mugs. Seems he¡¯s made an effort to clean himself up for his meeting, putting on a nice shirt and a clean apron. His scraggly dark hair is tied back, making his green droopy ears more prominent.

    Seated in front of him is the barmaid, Sara, as unremarkable as ever in her brown dress that matches her brown hair and eyes, along with a white apron. Though perhaps that¡¯s intentional. The one time trouble almost started, it was the young woman who showed any intention to stop it. I think her drab clothing and otherwise muted presence is purposeful, meant to mask her role as the bar¡¯s and Howie¡¯s protector.

    ¡°Oh, Lou!¡± Howie grins as he spots me, flashing yellowed teeth. Bad brew? His ears give a little twitch I would describe as cute if he weren¡¯t¡­him.

    ¡°Howie. You remember Alana?¡± I say as we both take a stool. Geneva, tail swinging, takes a place at one of the corner tables, the barmaid¡¯s suspicious gaze following her the whole way.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Alana greets politely.

    ¡°Er, sure. Where¡¯s Greenie? Thought you two went everywhere together.¡±

    ¡°My wife happens to enjoy a good drink the same as me so we often come here together. Ah, get us some Herbanacle.¡±

    ¡°Not for me.¡±

    I turn to Alana with a raised brow. ¡°This is supposed to be a serious meeting,¡± she grumbles. ¡°I can¡¯t be drunk.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not your serious meeting but if you insist. Howie¡ª¡±

    ¡°I got something,¡± the brewer says as he reaches for the bottles on the shelving behind him. ¡°You were saying about the brute?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes.¡± I take a long drink of the mug he sets before me. ¡°She¡¯s likely being dined by a rich woman right now.¡±

    He freezes and gapes at me, Alana taking the mug halfway extended to her from his stiff fingers. ¡°Wait. You¡¯re saying your wife is off with another woman?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°And that doesn¡¯t bother you?¡±

    ¡°No? Not this woman. Besides, she¡¯s only doing it because I asked.¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°You¡¯re a weird human.¡±

    Hah! That¡¯s where you went wrong. I¡¯m not human. ¡°I think you¡¯re misunderstanding. I didn¡¯t ask Kii to sleep with her. You know how the Guiness have been hot for her since she got here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Maxine¡¯s been trailing you two like a lost pup.¡±

    ¡°See, her sister is in the city and she¡¯s a lot less scrupulous than Max. I don¡¯t want to deal with whatever she is cooking up so I asked my wife to head her off. She¡¯s probably being flattered to death at the moment.¡±

    ¡°You turned that down?¡± he asks suspiciously. Understandable. I am a known hedonist.

    ¡°My hands are full.¡± I smile at Alana who hides inside her mug.

    ¡°Huh. Thanks for showing up. These guild bastards are always taking liberties. Don¡¯t be afraid to smack them around if they get uppity, huh? I¡¯ll pay you extra.¡±

    ¡°Relax. I¡¯ll do the job properly.¡± Is it too much to hope for that everything goes smoothly?

 ARC 6-Winter War-06

    It doesn¡¯t take long for the first hunters to arrive.

    The door is thrown open with force, banging against the wall as a group of four walks in. I grimace as I take in the man in the lead. With his square shoulders, thick muscles, and broad chest, he is a walking pillar of masculinity. And his hair. There¡¯s far too much of it. Ugh.

    Covering most of his features is the head of a skinned bear fashioned into a hood. The rest of the skin hangs down to his ankles. On his feet are thick, leather boots lined with the same dark fur as the skin he wears. In the right light, or perhaps the wrong one, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if someone mistook him for a beast.

    Behind him are three individuals that rival his own impressive height, dressed in grey full plate. Each of them is armed, their chosen weapons a bit oversized; a sword nearly as tall as its wielder, a spear with a nasty jagged tip, and a shield that can be re-purposed as a door.

    Quite the intimidating group. Howie is certainly impressed from the way he tenses behind the bar. Alana¡¯s eyes are practically shining with admiration. That¡¯s right, she grew up around these types.

    Time for me to do my job.

    I slip from my seat, mug in hand. ¡°Hello there, gentlemen. Here for the meeting or a drink?¡±

    The leader turns his shadowed gaze to me. Then he inclines his head. ¡°Evening, young miss,¡± he says in a voice that I¡¯d imagine the bear on his head might have used if it could have talked. ¡°I¡¯m known as Bearskin Steel and prefer to go by it. We¡¯re here for the meeting, representing the Steelskin guild, but we¡¯ll take the drinks as well, if it¡¯s no trouble."

    I blink at him for a moment. Didn¡¯t expect politeness from the man dressed as a bear. ¡°Lourianne Tome.¡± I mean to curtesy but he stops me by holding out a hand. I shake it, minding my strength. ¡°The drinks aren¡¯t a problem. If you haven¡¯t been here before, I recommend you start with the Herbanacle. Good drink, strong but not too strong.¡±

    ¡°That will do us fine.¡± Bearskin waves the others to follow him to a nearby table. There¡¯s a moment of awkwardness as they seat their large, heavy frames on the relatively small chairs.

    I walk back to the counter with a shaking head. ¡°Howie, four Herbanacles for the large gents,¡± I say while retaking my seat. ¡°So, that¡¯s the Steelskins.¡± Not that the name means anything to me.

    ¡°Martial guild,¡± Howie grunts as he fills four mugs. ¡°Rare thing to prioritize physical prowess over magical in this city. Secondary focus on earth casters. A few like to make fun of them, call them simpletons, but the Steelskins play an important role. They are vanguards. They distract the monsters and take the blows so soft casters have the freedom to cast their spells. They work with the other guilds a lot. Rowdy bunch though.¡±

    I take a look at the ¡°rowdy¡± hunters sitting on the chairs too small for them, talking quietly amongst themselves. Then I turn to the bartender with a raised brow.

    ¡°Bearskin keeps his men in line.¡± Howie finishes pouring and Sara performs her job, carrying the tray to the table. ¡°Seeing him makes me feel better. Means they want to be reasonable.¡±

    Reasonable is good.

    The next group to arrive confuses me. This is supposed to be a meeting of hunters but the man who walks through the door looks like a young lord on his way to a party. He¡¯s far too colorful with his red vest, blue scarf, and brown leather gloves. His dark hair is neatly combed back and his rather plain features arranged in a cool mask.

    Following behind him are two obvious servants, despite their rather good dress. Their bowed heads and the two paces they keep from their lord gives it away.

    The young lord sniffs and promptly covers his face with a cloth. ¡°This place smells of filth and rot. How anyone is expected to enjoy a moment here is beyond me. Ulbert, fetch the owner.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± The manservant moves toward the counter with determined eyes.

    There goes reasonable.

    I slip off my stool and block his path. ¡°Hello there,¡± I say with forced cheer. If this devolves into a brawl, it won¡¯t be because of me. ¡°Lourianne Tome. Working for the owner to keep the peace.¡± Take the warning.

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    ¡°My lady.¡± He bows. ¡°I am Ulbert, manservant to Lord Kimbleford III, vice-captain of the 4th lance of the Seventh Sons. He wishes to meet with the owner of this establishment.¡± The young man¡¯s eyes move past me to Howie.

    ¡°Whatever your master needs to say can wait till all the representatives of the guilds have gathered. Until then, please be seated. Have a drink, kick off your boots.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m going to need to insist.¡±

    ¡°Then I will insist even stronger.¡±

    ¡°The lord does not take well to his time being wasted.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t take well to being talked at like I¡¯m a servant. You have to deal with his tantrum if he throws one, not me.¡±

    ¡°What is this?¡± Kimbleford stomps over, his maid trailing him. His hand moves from his nose, exposing his sneer. It lessens a little as he looks me over from head to toe. ¡°You are?¡±

    ¡°Lady Lourianne Tome,¡± Ulbert says before I have the chance.

    ¡°Tome. Yes, I recall a family by that name. Big in the capital recently.¡± His sneer relaxes a bit more. ¡°Good then, we can have a sensible conversation. I have no intention of playing whatever game that green man is orchestrating, summoning important members of the guilds to this stable. If we are here to sign a deal, let it be signed so we can get on with more important things.¡±

    He reaches into his vest and pulls out a folded paper. ¡°Here is the deal, as agreed. Brew for us, gold for the creature, in amounts satisfying to both parties. Be a dear and tell him to sign it already so I may get on with my night.¡±

    I snatch the paper from his hands, reading it as he stares at me in shock. Hm. He wasn¡¯t lying. That is no small amount of gold and for the work Howie promised. Then why is he being so¡ªah. There it is. This contract is an agreement between Howie and the Seventh Sons. No mention of the other guilds involved in this deal. That can¡¯t bode well for his intentions.

    ¡°Have you taken leave of your senses? That is a sensitive document.¡± He reaches for the paper but I easily avoid him. ¡°Return it to me!¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, young lord.¡± I pass back the suspicious contract. ¡°But as I was saying, we¡¯ll be waiting for the other representatives to arrive before we do any business. You should take a seat. Plenty of tables and this place serves a good cup.¡±

    Kimbleford scoffs. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have wasted my time with you. Get out of the way.¡±

    I stop him with a hand on his chest. His manservant grabs my wrist, with some strength judging by the tension in his fingers, but I ignore him. ¡°Let me put this another way. I¡¯m here to keep order. You will do as I say or you¡¯re going out the door. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Ulbert. Remove this impertinent woman.¡±

    The manservant frowns as I smile viciously at him. Before he can explain to his lord that he doesn¡¯t like his chances, a large, gauntleted hand grabs him by the back of his jacket and raises him until he is balancing on his toes. He flails his fists only to wince when his knuckles smack against hard armor.

    ¡°Is this bastard bothering you, young miss?¡± Bearksin growls from behind Kimbleford.

    The young lord turns and his sneer returns in full force. ¡°I see the Steelskins sent their pet.¡±

    ¡°Behave yourself, Kimble. Our guilds made agreements about this meeting. If you do not conduct yourself with some decorum, then the young miss won¡¯t have to trouble herself. I will throw you out on your ear, pup.¡±

    ¡°Decorum? Don¡¯t make me laugh. Just yesterday, our men had to help detain your boys rampaging through the streets of Quest. You wear a skin instead of a shirt. I shall take advice on my manners from someone else, thank you.¡±

    Kimbleford looks past me to Howie. ¡°Are you not a man? Speak for yourself. This is your future we¡¯re meant to be discussing.¡±

    ¡°Nah, don¡¯t think I will.¡± He waves in my direction. ¡°That¡¯s what she¡¯s for.¡±

    ¡°What did I expect from lowborn and foreigners. Fine. Ulbert, have one of the tables cleaned. Leigh, fetch me something to drink. I take even this dump can serve a decent glass of wine.¡±

    He huffs as he stomps away, standing by the door with his arms crossed like a petulant child. Bearskin nods to the hunter holding the manservant and he releases him. He gives the armored man a nasty look before marching up to Howie. ¡°A rag and a bucket of water, if you please.¡±

    ¡°Hey, if you want to do my cleaning for free, be my guest.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, Lady Tome.¡±

    I turn to the maid and she bows. ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive my lord. He is a bit brash when it comes to business. Please find it in your heart to overlook any offense.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one he needs to apologize to.¡± It¡¯s Howie he tried to screw over. And perhaps the other guilds. ¡°You need a good wine for him, yeah? Come on, I¡¯ll give you some recommendations.¡±

    ¡°Much appreciated, lady.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s his problem anyway? Howie, give her a bottle of the red that makes everything look a little pink and the white that makes your chest feel like it¡¯s got a cloud in it.¡±

    ¡°Should¡­anyone be drinking those wines?¡± the maid asks.

    ¡°You¡¯re about to be drinking Howie¡¯s brews by the barrel. Best get used to the unusual side effects now. Besides, they¡¯re good. Now, your master? Why did he come barreling in here with that dubious piece of paper and a bad attitude?¡±

    I sigh as she keeps her silence. ¡°I understand that you don¡¯t want to speak out of turn but you should if you have his best interest at heart. I wasn¡¯t kidding about throwing him out. It¡¯ll help if I know why he¡¯s acting like an asshole.¡±

    She bites her lip as she thinks. In the meantime, Howie places a wooden tray with two wine bottles and two cups on the counter. I grab the red wine and fill my mug. ¡°So?¡±

    She meets my gaze over the rim of my cup for several long moments before finally sighing. ¡°The Seventh Sons is a guild established by noble sons who cannot inherit their house,¡± she says slowly, as if considering every word.

    I hold up a hand. ¡°Stop. No need to say anymore.¡±

    She smiles in relief, bowing her head and hurrying off with the tray. Across the room, the manservant has just finished drying a chair and is beckoning the young lord to sit.

    Three more guilds to go.

 ARC 6-Winter War-07

    ¡°Huh? Are we the last ones?¡±

    I turn on my stool as the door opens once again, the largest group yet coming through. Two guilds comprise it if I have to guess, based on the differences in their attire.

    Of the five, three wear crimson robes over their clothes, reminding me of the casters from the Hall. If the analogy holds true, that¡¯d make them fire casters. The oldest of them, a man with salt and pepper hair and friendly dark eyes, carries a book on his hip, the mark of a serious caster.

    The other two are an odd pair. One is clearly a swordsman with his chest plate, armored boots, and sword on his hip. He carries a helmet under his arm, his tousled dark hair showing it¡¯d just recently been removed.

    Beside him is a woman, judging from her curves. Everything else is hidden by a dark cloak, including a large hood that hides her face.

    ¡°Is that Bearskin?¡± the warrior calls out. He crosses the room with a smile, slapping the man on the shoulder. ¡°Didn¡¯t know you were joining the campaign this time around. Might have to wear a shirt up there.¡±

    ¡°Merven.¡± Bearskin shakes his hand, quite strongly from the wince on the swordsman¡¯s face. ¡°I won¡¯t be joining. They needed a squad captain here to sign this agreement without causing a scene.¡±

    ¡°Suppose you¡¯re the most reasonable of the lot.¡±

    ¡°You are welcome to share a drink with us but you should speak with the young miss.¡± He nods in my direction. ¡°Seems to be in charge tonight.¡±

    ¡°Her? I mean, not to imply anything but asking a young woman to control that Kimble bastard¡ª¡±

    ¡°I am here to provide force if needed but I don¡¯t think it will be necessary. She¡¯s stronger than she looks.¡±

    What a gentleman. Funny the man wearing an animal skin has more manners than the man in a nice vest. Heeding the words of his friend, Merven the swordsman makes his way to me, his companion meeting him. Across the room, the older caster seats his compatriots at a table before approaching.

    Time to do more work.

    ¡°Evening everyone,¡± I greet. ¡°Lourianne Tome. Friend of the owner and hired help. Here to keep things orderly tonight.¡±

    ¡°Good to meet you, Lady Tome!¡± The swordsman greets me with the energy of someone half his age. ¡°Merven, just Merven. No last name, common as they come. Here to represent One For All. Ah, this is Daisy. She¡¯ll be leading the group headed north.¡± The woman nods.

    ¡°And I am William Cordotta.¡± The red-robed caster bows with a hand on his chest. ¡°William is fine. Cordy is better. That¡¯s what all the young ones call me.¡± His smile is free and kind. ¡°Here to represent the Torchbearers. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Tome.¡±

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    ¡°Same, same. Lou is fine.¡± Great, doesn¡¯t look like this group will be any trouble. ¡°Howie.¡±

    ¡°Already with you, Lou.¡± He sets three mugs on the counter and I pass them out.

    ¡°How come you¡¯re in charge of things?¡± Merven asks as he takes his. ¡°No offense, I mean, uh.¡±

    He trails off as I chuckle. ¡°Relax. It¡¯s a good question. Howie asked me here to keep you all respectable because I¡¯m fairly confident I can kick all your asses.¡± And if I can¡¯t, Geneva who has gone unnoticed in a corner of the room certainly can.

    My declaration is met with silence.

    Merven breaks it by laughing uproariously, sloshing Herbanacle over the side of his mug. ¡°Ahaha, that¡¯s great! I take it you¡¯re a caster? From the Hall? I know all the notable guildies, I think.¡±

    ¡°You got it.¡± Should probably keep it to myself that I¡¯m not even a first-year acolyte.

    ¡°Affinity?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be telling.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Well, it¡¯ll keep things interesting. When all this stuffy stuff is over, we can have a match. Always looking for a good sparring partner.¡±

    ¡°Only person I spar with is my wife.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°Good to see things will be taken in a firm hand,¡± Cordy says. He raises his mug toward Howie. ¡°A bottle and two more mugs, my good man. Lady Tome. Merven. Daisy.¡± He nods to each of us before walking back to his table.

    The still confused Merven is taken by the arm and dragged off by his companion.

    ¡°Pleasant people,¡± I say as I turn around.

    ¡°I recognize them,¡± Alana mutters, watching them from the corner of her eye. ¡°Their guilds, not them. Especially One For All. It¡¯s nothing official but they¡¯re considered the number one guild in the kingdom. They take in everyone who wants to fight and trains them on credit. Their hunters work for the guild until their debts are paid. Then they¡¯re free to do as they like.¡±

    She stares into her mug pensively. ¡°When I was young, I thought I might join them. Leave Victory for good. Train as a hunter before joining one of the orders in the capital. But then my affinity was tested and my father welcomed me into his house.¡±

    Is it just me or does she sound bitter when she says that? More bitter than usual. ¡°And the other one? The, uh¡ª¡±

    ¡°The Torchbearers? They¡¯re similar to One For All but they do prefer recruits with the fire and wind affinities. They¡¯re known for producing competent casters that specialize in monster hunting. Good reputation among the people as they will travel to all corners of the kingdom and work for prices even the smallest villages can afford.¡±

    ¡°Saints in training.¡±

    Alana smiles. ¡°I considered joining them if I had a fire affinity.¡±

    Of course you did. ¡°Howie, who are the last ones we¡¯re waiting for?¡±

    ¡°You should know them,¡± the brewer says while handing over a tray to his barmaid. ¡°The idiots who you stole from.¡±

    ¡°Stole?¡±

    I hold up a hand to forestall Alana¡¯s lecture. ¡°Before you get the wrong idea, the sword was a spoil of war.¡±

    The look he gives me is droll. ¡°War?¡±

    ¡°Battle. Okay, it wasn¡¯t much of a fight. They attacked us and I may have taken one of their swords as compensation for the trouble. As a gift for Kierra. You know she likes weapons.¡±

    Alana sighs. ¡°Should have guessed.¡±

    ¡°No, no. It wasn¡¯t her usual love of violence. These people deserved it.¡±

    ¡°Real assholes,¡± Howie continued. ¡°They¡¯re the reason Lou is here. More than once, they tried to muscle me into working for them. Don¡¯t believe that weasel that proposed this whole mess for a moment. If they don¡¯t get the terms they like, I bet they throw me in a bag and carry me off. I know how those types work.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t remember their name.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember the name of the group you assaulted and stole from?¡± Alana asks in disbelief.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault! We only interacted for a few minutes and they weren¡¯t very memorable.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not making this sound better!¡±

    The door opening again interrupts her before she can get going. The last representative of the guilds arrives. Alone, interestingly enough. I vaguely recognize his sun-tanned skin and dirty blond hair as belonging to the man who started this whole affair.

    He pauses just inside the doorway, scanning the room. ¡°Everyone¡¯s arrived, good. We can get straight to business.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-08

    The latest arrival moves to the center of the room and wastes no time getting to business. ¡°Thank you, everyone, for coming. My name is Simone, a consul attached to the Shadow Wolf guild. For those unaware of what my title means, I facilitate cooperation between guilds and third parties. I say that to assure you that I have experience in these matters so if you would all allow me to guide this meeting, we can have this settled and done with shortly.¡±

    Hanging from his waist is a plain wooden tube. He takes it in his hands and takes off the cap, dumping several rolled-up documents into his opposite palm. ¡°I have here with me the requests from each of the guilds participating in this campaign. Each of you should have the authority to negotiate on behalf of your guild. If you don¡¯t have this power, please leave and retrieve someone with that power so we don¡¯t waste our collective time.¡±

    When no one moved, he nodded. ¡°Good.¡± He unfurls the papers. ¡°Mr. Howie? Would you join me?¡±

    The halfling hesitates but at my nod, he moves from behind his counter to stand at the consul¡¯s side, shoulders hunched and eyes dubious.

    ¡°Excellent. We will start with the terms listed by the Steelskin guild. They request that Mr. Howie produces twenty barrels of Shroom Inferno to be provided every month throughout the duration of the campaign for the sum of one gold crown per barrel.¡±

    ¡°Twenty barrels?!¡± Kimbleford shouts. ¡°Are you planning to send an army?¡±

    ¡°We are big men,¡± Bearksin says evenly. ¡°The cold is the most dangerous enemy in the north.¡±

    ¡°You may all be muscle brains but you¡¯re not deceiving me. Do you mean to hoard the whole stock for yourself? The brewer is only one man. Lower your request by half, at least.¡±

    ¡°Impossible. We will be the first, pushing a way forward through snow and frost. Keeping warm is important.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    ¡°Maybe you should ask the brewer?¡± Howie scoffs as he scratches the back of an ear. ¡°I expanded operations for this deal. I can handle the twenty for them while supplying the rest of you. As long as they can pay the gold.¡±

    Bearskin inclines his head. ¡°You have our thanks.¡±

    ¡°Prefer your money but sure.¡±

    Simone pulls a smudgestick from his pocket and writes on his papers. ¡°Good. Moving on to the Torchbearers.¡±

    Cordy clears his throat as he gets to his feet. ¡°A question first.¡± Simone waves for him to continue. ¡°This Shroom Sanity. We¡¯ve heard that it can defend against the mental affinity?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t defend against anything. No brew exists that can block mana intrusion, to my knowledge. Sanity dampens your thoughts, makes them harder to read without mana intrusion. Also gets you drunk.¡±

    ¡°Very good. Consul Simone, you may continue.¡±

    ¡°The Torchbearers ask for three barrels of Inferno and five barrels of Inferno.¡±

    ¡°We are not so big,¡± Cordy says with a chuckle, inclining his head to the Steelskin table.

    ¡°Our men will protect the skinny casters,¡± Bearskin says with an amused huff. It sounds exactly how I imagine a bear might chuckle.

    ¡°Always appreciate your work, my good man.¡±

    ¡°They are offering one gold per barrel.¡±

    ¡°Hah?!¡± Howie exclaims. ¡°No way! Do you know what I have to grind up for Sanity? Make it five and I¡¯m still barely making a profit.¡± I don¡¯t believe him for a moment.

    ¡°Acceptable.¡± The older caster agrees immediately. ¡°I came prepared to pay more. Such a valuable drink must have expensive ingredients.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. At least your guild sent someone with sense.¡±

    ¡°Another easy one down,¡± I hear Simone mutter under his breath as he scribbles on his papers. ¡°Suppose we should handle the most troublesome next.¡± He clears his throat and projects at a normal volume. ¡°Now for the terms proposed by the Seventh Sons. They are asking for seven barrels of Inferno, seven of Sanity, and two bottles of Twilight Haze¡ª¡±

    I gape in surprise as Howie swears several unkind words in elven. ¡°How do you bastards know about that?!¡±

    Kimbleford scoffs. ¡°We are a guild of nobles. Don¡¯t underestimate us. Did you think word wouldn¡¯t get out after selling such a valuable item?¡±

    Simone clears his throat. ¡°As I was saying, two bottles of Twilight Haze along with two crates of leisure drinks to be decided at the representative¡¯s discretion. Also, they would like to contract Mr. Howie to brew numbing potions¡ª¡±

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    ¡°I¡¯ve told you bastards, I ain¡¯t no hedge witch!¡±

    ¡°¡ªenergy potions, and to investigate the alchemical worth of any creatures slain by the guild.¡±

    ¡°And now you¡¯re asking me to look at corpses!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve seen you buying monster corpses. Even the useless ones. No doubt they¡¯re the key to the strange potency of your beverages. You are clearly an expert on manabeasts and their uses, whatever you want to call yourself. The Seventh Sons have no intention of being cheated out of well-deserved gold by those Victory fools.¡±

    ¡°For the barrels, they are willing to offer a gold crown per. For the two bottles of Twilight Haze, they offer one hundred gold crowns per. For the crate of miscellaneous drinks, the price is to be determined upon their selection. For the service of Mr. Howie as a brewer and adviser, they offer to pay for his lodgings and equipment along with another hundred gold crowns per month for the duration of the winter.¡±

    ¡°You bastards are worse than nooners!¡± Howie snaps. ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Can you be more specific on which request you have a problem with?¡± Simone asks drolly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not giving any of you so much as a drop of Haze!¡±

    He turns his placid gaze to the young lord. ¡°Lord Kimbleford¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll raise our offer to one hundred twenty gold crowns.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°One-fifty.¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Two hundred.¡±

    ¡°How many times do I have to say it, you stubborn bastard?!¡±

    Seeing Kimbleford¡¯s eyes narrow, I slip from my stool and walk to Howie¡¯s side. Time to do some work. He flinches as I lay a hand on his shoulder but quickly relaxes. In fact, he smiles viciously.

    ¡°Excuse the interruption but I want to know exactly what this Haze stuff is that it¡¯s got that man¡¯s vest in a bunch.¡±

    ¡°And you are?¡± Simone asks me.

    ¡°Lourianne Tome. Howie¡¯s adviser.¡±

    ¡°I see. Quite appropriate.¡± He looks a bit too relieved. ¡°Perhaps you would like a moment to discuss this matter with your client.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, thanks.¡± I pull the brewer aside and bring our heads together to whisper, ¡°Do you want to tell me what this stuff is?¡±

    Howie sighs as he runs a hand through his messy hair. ¡°Haze is¡­the dusky told you about the clans, right? How they¡­work?¡±

    ¡°You mean how they kidnap powerful creatures or individuals and forcefully mate with them? Yeah, she told me all about it along with a strong warning not to go traipsing around that part of the continent alone.¡±

    ¡°Ha! That¡¯s putting it mildly. Haze is kind of like their signature potion. It¡¯s, uh, a really powerful fertility aid. One good cup sends just about anything into heat and just about guarantees the, uh, union will be, er, fruitful.¡±

    I resist an urge to roll my eyes. ¡°Thank you for your consideration of my sensibilities but can you get to the point?¡±

    ¡°Well, it uh¡­¡± He tugs a droopy ear. ¡°It enhances pleasure, a lot. It also makes the affected a bit more¡­open to suggestions. Someone could use it¡ª¡±

    I cut him off with a hiss. ¡°I know what someone could do with something like that, you idiot! You sold this to someone?¡±

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t look at me like that. Like I said, it¡¯s primarily a fertility aid. I sometimes sell the stuff to couples that are having a hard time conceiving. A cup of it that I pour and watch them drink. I¡¯ve seen it misused and I won¡¯t be a part of it.¡±

    ¡°Okay. That¡¯s not too bad.¡± Pretty decent of him, actually. I glance at Kimbleford, who is glaring at us with clear impatience. ¡°I doubt the Seventh Sons have your noble intentions or restraint.¡±

    ¡°You see why I can¡¯t give it to them? What would they even need it for if they¡¯re going to fight?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s always time for other things. Come on.¡± I pull him back to Simone. ¡°We¡¯re going to insist on our denial to provide Twilight haze.¡±

    ¡°Three hundred gold crowns.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve already said no multiple times. Money isn¡¯t the issue. Let¡¯s get on with it.¡±

    The young lord gets to his feet. ¡°Now, see here. I was explicitly asked not to leave this bar without securing the Twilight Haze. So, it would suit everyone if you could tell me what price would get past your reluctance or whatever else is holding you back and quit wasting my time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not for sale, you twit!¡± Howie barks.

    ¡°Mind your words, barkeeper. Our guild recognizes the worth of your wares and is willing to pay you a fair price for them. However, if you continue to refuse us, we will have no choice but to resort to less polite ways of asking.¡±

    Simone frowned. ¡°There will be no threats at this meeting.¡±

    ¡°A threat? Surely not. I was simply¡ª¡± He cuts off as he spots me approaching him at a leisurely pace, smile on my lips. ¡°You¡¯re his adviser? You should explain to him the folly of¡ª¡±

    I grab him by the front of his vest. This close I can smell traces of perfume on him. The same kind his nervous maid is wearing. Yeah, really don¡¯t want to imagine what this kind of swine will do with an aphrodisiac concocted by perpetually horny elves.

    ¡°What are you doing? Let go of me!¡±

    ¡°That was definitely a threat earlier. And I¡¯m here to make sure everyone understands threatening Howie is bad. Don¡¯t do it again.¡±

    His eyes begin to glow. ¡°I won¡¯t ask you to remove your hand again.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Merven shouts, rising from his chair. ¡°Kimble, don¡¯t you dare!¡±

    The young lord ignores him. I see his shoulders move, a prequel to him raising a hand. He could be preparing a spell or simply moving on to the next phase of his threats. After all, the hunters have made it clear they will intervene if he attacks.

    I don¡¯t wait to find out.

    Before he can finish the gesture, I smack him. Lightly.

    His face snaps to the side, blood spraying. Something small and white skips across the floor, sliding to a stop at Cordy¡¯s feet. The older man picks up the tooth with a raised brow.

    Kimbleford stares at me with wide-eyes and a bleeding mouth.

    ¡°Are you going to act like you have some sense now?¡± I ask into the poignant silence.

    His shock collapses to anger but his eyes lose their glow, the man at least having the experience to understand he is disadvantaged at this distance. ¡°I¡¯ll have your head for this.¡±

    I toss him away with a scoff.

    Simone clears his throat. ¡°If all parties are ready to continue? Good. Mr. Howie agrees to provide seven barrels of Inferno, seven barrels of Sanity for the agreed upon prices.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± the brewer says. ¡°And I¡¯m not going north.¡±

    ¡°One more thing,¡± I say while staring Kimbleford down. ¡°They stated that the agreement lasts for the whole of winter. Howie is only working for you all for the campaign.¡±

    ¡°Oi! You crafty bastards!¡±

    Kimbleford clicks his teeth. ¡°The north isn¡¯t the only place that gets cold. We¡¯ll have more work throughout the winter.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been keeping yourselves warm for years without assistance. He works for the duration of the campaign, from Quest.¡±

    Kimbleford waves a dismissive hand. ¡°Fine. The man does himself no favors.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Simone marks his paper. ¡°Let¡¯s continue.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-09

    It may be me but there¡¯s tension in the air as Simone clears his throat. There¡¯s no need for them to be worried. Bearskin and Cordy were cordial and negotiations happened without a hitch. Kimbleford practically begged for a beating, threatening Howie and ignoring my many warnings, but all he lost was a tooth. A good healer can have that sorted in half an hour, maybe less.

    ¡°Next we will address the requests of One For All.¡± He pauses to look at Merven. He looks¡­exasperated? ¡°Mr. Howie, I assume the price remains the same for your drinks?¡±

    The brewer waves him off.

    ¡°Very well. To the more¡­unique request. First, One For All requests that Mr. Howie allows one of their alchemists to verify the ingredients used in his brews and the methods used to prepare them.¡±

    The brewer sputters in anger and I don¡¯t blame him. ¡°You¡ªyou¡¯re worse than that idiot! Verify my ingredients and methods?! You¡¯re trying to rob me!¡±

    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re misunderstanding.¡± The warrior once again rises, his easygoing smile replaced by a serious countenance I wouldn¡¯t have guessed him capable of. ¡°These potions of yours¡ª¡±

    ¡°Spirit damn it, they¡¯re not potions!¡±

    ¡°Ah, apologies. These, er, drinks of yours are unlike anything else in the city and that¡¯s saying a lot in Quest. More importantly, you¡¯re not human. Not to doubt you but can you say, without a doubt, that nothing you use is harmful if drunken in large quantities over several weeks? Like we are preparing to do?¡±

    Howie falters. ¡°My drinks aren¡¯t dangerous¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± the warrior presses. ¡°Without a doubt?¡±

    ¡°¡­well, nothing is entirely safe. Anything can be dangerous with the right dose. This is a trick.¡±

    ¡°You have a point. What we are looking for are ingredients that are known to be harmful to humans, which you may not have considered seeing as, well, you aren¡¯t. Human, that is.¡±

    ¡°Write me a list!¡±

    Merven groans, scratching at the back of his head. ¡°Thing is, the alchemists don¡¯t like sharing information.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re members of your guild, aren¡¯t they? Make them do it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how One For All works. Look, someone has to personally do the checking. There are dozens of plants that are dangerous on their own, dozens more that are dangerous when paired with other common potion ingredients¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re. Not. Potions!¡±

    ¡°¡ªand dozens more that become dangerous when prepared in certain ways. If we can¡¯t verify the safety of your potions, then there is no way we can buy from you. While no one can rival the potency of your wares, safety must come first.¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t buy them, you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Howie.¡± I cut him off with a friendly clap on the shoulder. ¡°Wait a minute. This is supposed to be a negotiation.¡± I turn my attention back to Merven. ¡°I understand your position but be realistic. He has valid reasons to be concerned about your intentions.¡±

    The warrior frowns. ¡°One For All is not a guild of thieves.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. No one¡¯s a thief until they¡¯re standing in front of an unguarded chest stuffed with someone¡¯s fortune.¡±

    ¡°Wait a¡ª¡±

    ¡°You said it yourself. Howie¡¯s stuff is better than anything else on the market. Don¡¯t bother trying to convince us that the guilds don¡¯t want his secrets. Knowing the ingredients he uses and how he prepares them is one step away from having the actual recipe.¡±

    Merven¡¯s frown transforms into a scowl. ¡°That doesn¡¯t change our request. The guild won¡¯t budge. You¡¯re going to have to trust us.¡±

    ¡°We could¡­or we can settle this with gold. You want his recipes? Pay for them. How much do you think one of them is worth? Let¡¯s say Inferno, that¡¯s the most necessary.¡±

    That gets the green man going. His ears give a little twitch as his lips turn up in a nasty smile. ¡°For an authentic Twilight recipe? Shall we say¡­three thousand gold crowns?¡±

    ¡°Three thousand!¡± Merven bellows.

    ¡°And of course, my cut of the profits once you start selling it yourselves. You¡¯re not fooling me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± The warrior swallows his first response. It was probably unkind. ¡°The guild can¡¯t afford that price.¡±

    ¡°Really? The number one ranked guild can¡¯t afford that measly sum?¡±

    ¡°Measly? Lady, I don¡¯t know what world you live in that three thousand gold crowns is a measly sum but it¡¯s not ours. Be reasonable.¡±

    ¡°We are being reasonable.¡± I scoff. ¡°You ask for something highly unreasonable and incredibly suspicious but I stop Howie from denouncing you as thieves and offer you a compromise. Is it our fault you¡¯re poor?¡±

    I hold back a snicker as he frowns. ¡°So we¡¯re all reading from the same record, Howie isn¡¯t offering his goods out of the kindness of his heart. Profit. Gold. If you can¡¯t provide them, he can¡¯t provide his wares.¡±

    ¡°Aaagh, fine!¡± Merven lets out an explosive breath and drops into his seat. ¡°If that¡¯s how you want it, that¡¯s how it is. One For All retracts their requests.¡± His companion puts a hand on his shoulder as he grumbles to himself.

    ¡°So noted. One For All renounces their stake in this agreement. Any future agreement they make will not be backed by the temporary alliance formed for the campaign to the Bleak Peaks, of which includes the Torchbearers, the Steelskins, the Seventh Sons, and the Shadow Wolves.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Saints, this man loves the sound of his own voice.

    ¡°Do not expect us to share, Merven,¡± Bearskin huffs.

    ¡°I won¡¯t, Bear. Saints, we¡¯ve got plenty of potions to keep fighters warm. For a sight less than three thousand gold too.¡±

    ¡°Peasants will be peasants,¡± Kimbleford mocks, holding out his mug to be refilled by his manservant. I hope it¡¯s helping with the pain.

    ¡°We continue to the final set of requests from the Shadow Wolf guild.¡± His voice remains impassive despite speaking of his own guild. ¡°The same agreement for the drinks as previously stated. Our additional request lies with this.¡±

    From his pocket, he pulls out a small vial filled with a clear liquid. He hands it to the brewer. ¡°We will give you the details of this potion and the ingredients used. We ask that you replicate its effects. Preferably before the end of the campaign.¡±

    ¡°Why is it that though I only agreed to provide liquor, you bastards keep asking me to do other things?¡±

    ¡°My superiors thought we should try our luck while you were in the mood to cooperate.¡±

    ¡°Well, at least this sounds interesting.¡± He pulls the stopper of the vial with his teeth and give the potion a sniff. ¡°Yeah, very interesting. But don¡¯t get any ideas about me working for you.¡±

    ¡°Should you prove successful, we will discuss the selling of the recipe.¡±

    Howie pockets the vial. ¡°That it? We done here?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Simone grabs the last paper in the stack he¡¯s carrying and places it on top. A little craning of my neck reveals it to be blank. It doesn¡¯t make sense until he pulls another vial from his pocket, this one larger and made of brown glass.

    The consul pulls the stopper free. A thin stream of dark liquid rises from the bottle as his eyes glow. I watch with growing interest as the, presumably, ink rapidly writes elegant letters.

    How is he doing that? Ink isn¡¯t water.

    [There are two ways I can think of,] Geneva says into my mind, forgotten in the corner she stands in. [If the ink is close enough to water and they keep their variables vague, one can simply brute force it¡¯s manipulation. Highly ineffective when manipulating large quantities but for the meagre amount he is using, I imagine the extra expenditure is tolerable.

    [The second option is that he is using a very advanced spell. The water affinity can manipulate all liquids, not simply water.]

    Eh? Then why is it called the water affinity?

    [The closer the liquid is to pure water, the less mana it takes to manipulate it. Also, the water affinity can only create pure water.]

    The consul finishes writing and extends the contract to Howie. ¡°If the terms are agreeable, I will sign your name and ask you to place a blood print beside it.¡±

    ¡°Blood?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Signatures can be faked. Blood cannot.¡±

    [By amateurs.]

    Howie squints as he stares at the contract, mumbling to himself.

    [I believe you should intervene, my summoner.]

    Hm? Something wrong?

    [The halfling is struggling to understand the contract.]

    Howie can¡¯t read?! But he speaks fine!

    [Two separate skills. He has a rudimentary understanding, enough to get by in simple affairs. However, this consul has deliberately used uncommon words and complex sentences to confuse the unaware. It is proving very effective.]

    Saints, merchants. When he says his job is to facilitate negotiations between the guilds and third parties, he means they call him when they want to screw someone over.

    [It is natural to seek the most benefit, even to the detriment of others.]

    Howie is finally willing to work with them. You would think they¡¯d have the sense to generate some goodwill rather than compound his distrust of them.

    [Perhaps they think his distrust is too big a hurdle to move past. He has been rejecting them for years. Powerful people do not take denial well.]

    ¡°Let me see.¡±

    ¡°Oi, I was reading that!¡± Despite snapping at me, Howie surrenders the contract easily and his shoulders sag with relief. Mm, this wasn¡¯t written with clarity in mind. The whole first paragraph is spent naming the involved parties in exhaustive detail, the letters half the size of my smallest fingernail so it all can fit on one page.

    ¡°This is stupid.¡± I throw the contract at Simone, his neutral expression cracking a little as he scrambles to catch it. ¡°I¡¯m not going to decipher that nonsense. Redo it and make it clear.¡±

    ¡°I assure you, nothing is nonsense. Everything must be clearly defined so there can be no misunderstandings and no one can go against their word.¡±

    ¡°There won¡¯t be a misunderstanding if you write a clear contract instead of a book. Besides, Howie doesn¡¯t need a piece of paper to make sure everyone keeps their word. That¡¯s what I¡¯m for.¡±

    Kimbleford laughs. ¡°I admit you¡¯re strong but do you think you can bring judgment on five of the strongest guilds in Quest? Hahaha.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    The prompt answer and the surety behind it cuts his laughter off. ¡°Hey. A noble must have their pride but one must recognize when it becomes unseemly arrogance.¡±

    As if you¡¯re one to talk.

    ¡°You are wrong when you say five,¡± Bearskin says. ¡°The Steelskins will not go against their word.¡±

    ¡°I would appreciate it if you didn¡¯t include my guild as well,¡± Cordy follows. ¡°The young lady can make such statements as she pleases as there should never be a time where she needs prove them. We are all honorable men, are we not?¡±

    ¡°You make it sound like we¡¯re trying to bully her,¡± Merven mutters.

    If they¡¯re smart, they¡¯ll never find out exactly how capable I am of following through on my threat. ¡°You want the contract signed, rewrite it.¡±

    ¡°You are not the owner of this establishment.¡± He looks to Howie. ¡°This is perfectly good contract and I am not going to strain my core because your adviser doesn¡¯t like its appearance. I suggest you control her so we can finish tonight¡¯s business.¡±

    Howie¡¯s the one struggling with the contract. As if he¡¯s going to pass up a perfect excuse to get rid of it.

    The brewer¡¯s lips twist into a sneer as he looks down his nose at the other man. ¡°Hah? She¡¯s my adviser. What kind of idiot doesn¡¯t listen to the adviser he hires? Rewrite it.¡±

    ¡°Unless there¡¯s a reason you don¡¯t want to,¡± I add.

    ¡°¡­it is simply a bother.¡± Simone rolls up the contract and stuffs it in a pocket.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you were making such a fuss. You even have more paper,¡± I say as he starts another contract.

    ¡°Being prepared for inconveniences does not mean I welcome them.¡± He finishes as quickly as before and hands it to me. ¡°For your perusal.¡±

    Mm, much better. No more thick paragraphs with tiny letters and pointless language. I pass it to Howie. ¡°Look it over.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need you to tell me how to do business,¡± the brewer huffs as he takes the contract. Once again, his eyes narrow but, from Geneva¡¯s silence, I assume he¡¯s no longer having trouble. ¡°Alright, we¡ªhey, wait.¡±

    He scowls as he turns the contract around. ¡°What the noon is this? I told you Sanity needs to be priced at five gold a barrel but this says a gold a barrel for two of you bastards!¡±

    ¡°You specified five gold for the Torchbearers alone.¡±

    ¡°It should have been obvious the same applied to the rest. You¡¯re intentionally trying to screw me over!¡±

    ¡°Nothing is obvious in business. I wrote the contract according to your words. However, nothing has been signed. A simple fix.¡±

    ¡°So now you have no problem with rewriting it,¡± I tease. ¡°And look, more blank paper. Why, it¡¯s almost as if you foresaw you¡¯d need to rewrite the contract multiple times. Are you¡­exceptionally clumsy?¡±

    ¡°Despicable,¡± scoffs Alana so quietly, I¡¯m sure I¡¯m the only one who hears.

    Simone frowns. ¡°I would ask you not to make accusations against my character.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve made two mistakes, ones that could have been easily avoided. I think clumsy is the nicest word for it.¡±

    ¡°Do I search this one for tricks too?¡± Howie holds the new contract between two fingers with a deep frown, as if holding particularly odorous trash. Suddenly, he growls, rather pathetically, and tosses it away.

    ¡°Agghhh! I may be a mutt and a runt but I¡¯m a twilighter too! You gob shits aren¡¯t going to walk all over me! Oi, Lou.¡±

    I hum in acknowledgment as I watch his large nose flare with his rising anger.

    ¡°What would the dusky have done if they tried to cheat her?¡±

    ¡°You know.¡± Someone trying to cheat Kierra? Forget ink. The next contract, if she didn¡¯t outright kill them, would be written in the offender¡¯s blood.

    ¡°Yeah. I also know what my mothers would do.¡± He squares his shoulders and raises his chin. ¡°All you bastards, get out of my bar!¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-10

    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re playing at?¡± Kimbleford shouts as he jumps to his feet. ¡°Just sign the damn thing!¡±

    ¡°Why should I?¡± Howie bares his teeth. ¡°If I let you get away with these insults, I can never show my face in the provinces again. Teach you to treat me like an idiot. I meant what I said! Get out!¡±

    ¡°You saints cursed monster¡ª¡±

    ¡°My lord!¡± his maid exclaims, grabbing his arm.

    He shakes her off. ¡°I won¡¯t stand for this! Who do you think you are to make fools of the Seventh Sons? Do you think you can live peacefully in this city after screwing the guilds? I¡¯ll destroy this dump myself!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to upset you, good sir, but this is highly irregular,¡± Cordy follows with a more measured tone. ¡°We came here to strike a deal. Gold makes men unscrupulous but we are about to come to an agreement, are we not? Let¡¯s not let a bit of brashness get in the way of that.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve got a question for you all. Especially you.¡± Howie points to the young lord. ¡°Would you do business with a group of people that blatantly insulted you and attempted to cheat you?¡±

    ¡°Do you think the merchants of the kingdom are all future saints? Of course I would! I¡¯m not a child who can¡¯t separate his emotions from business.¡±

    ¡°I understand your offense.¡± The consul¡¯s tone makes it clear he thinks the brewer is being unreasonable. ¡°Yes, I attempted to get the best deal possible for my guild. You hired an adviser to help you achieve the best deal. Surely, you wouldn¡¯t be complaining if you talked us into paying more than your drinks are worth. It is the way things are done.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not how it¡¯s done where I¡¯m from. There, if you try to cheat someone, you lose your head. If you¡¯re really unlucky, they could declare a blood feud. But you know what happens to the idiots who take it lying down? Worse!¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t whatever barbaric¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough! I¡¯ve made my decision. Knew I should have never gotten involved with you guild bastards. Get out!¡± He tosses the small potion vial back to Simone. ¡°Out!¡±

    The room turns to Bearskin as he stands. ¡°If that is your choice, we won¡¯t bother you further. I would ask what you plan to do with your wares. It would be a waste for something that can preserve lives to gather dust throughout the harsh winter.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll buy it.¡± I grin as the room turns to me. ¡°I¡¯m heading to Victory myself. Give me the whole lot.¡±

    Howie laughs. ¡°Yeah, I like that. Let them try and cheat the dusky. See where that gets you!¡±

    ¡°Keep the barrels coming. And you wouldn¡¯t have some extra wagons laying around? If you do, I¡¯ll take them too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a guy who can get you sorted out.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Great. I¡¯ll send the money by later.¡±

    ¡°Is this a joke?¡± Simone snaps, looking rather annoyed while holding the discarded contract. ¡°It is a rare thing when I agree with an officer of the Seventh Sons but how else are we supposed to interpret this nonsense? How can you begrudge me securing profits when you were just as eager to secure your own? Going back on your word now¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi, what was that about attacking someone¡¯s character? I only gave you my word I would listen and I don¡¯t like what I¡¯m hearing.¡± He waves a hand in dismissal and heads for the counter. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s got nothing to do with me now. Talk to her.¡±

    There¡¯s a beat of silence, a moment rife with disbelief as the hunters watch the brewer grumble to himself as he cleans mugs. Slowly, their attention returns to me.

    ¡°I suppose I should start another contract.¡±

    ¡°Ah, no.¡± I stop the consul before he can start moving ink. ¡°I¡¯ve got a different plan. Think I¡¯ll cart the whole haul to the north and sell it in a more competitive market. Something tells me that they¡¯re going to value a drink that can ward off the cold a lot higher than a gold coin a barrel.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s cold,¡± Merven mutters.

    ¡°Oh, except you, big guy.¡± I smile at Bearskin. ¡°I¡¯ve got twenty barrels with your name on it.¡± What can I say? He made a good impression on me.

    ¡°I am obliged to the young lady,¡± he rumbles happily.

    ¡°Oh, you too, Cordy.¡±

    ¡°I thank you on behalf of the Torchbearers. The lady is a kind as she is beautiful!¡± Flatterer.

    ¡°If you¡¯re willing to make a deal with them, why not sign a contract?!¡± Kimbleford roars. ¡°Do you take joy in aggravating us?¡±

    ¡°Are you deliberating trying to sabotage the guilds participating in this campaign?¡± Simone asks with a serious frown.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself. I felt like buying his stuff, so I did. I don¡¯t feel like signing a contract so I won¡¯t. Don¡¯t look at me like that. This is your faults. All you had to do was not be assholes. Just because it¡¯s the norm doesn¡¯t make it right.¡± I shrug. ¡°You reap what you sow.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not entertaining this madwoman anymore,¡± the young lord snaps, throwing his cup in anger as he jumps to his feet. His servants are quick to follow as he hurries out of the bar, throwing open the door with force.

    ¡°We should get going too.¡± Merven stands and offers a hand to his silent companion. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re going to have your hands full in the north.¡±

    The woman¡¯s head briefly turns toward me on their way out.

    The Torchbearers and the Steelskins leave together, Cordy waving politely, Bearskin and the armored hunters inclining their heads as they pass.

    Leaving only the irate consul.

    ¡°I know of you, Lady Lourianne Tome,¡± he says softly. ¡°Do you think we forgot about how you assaulted and stole from our members? We decided to put that aside for the greater good. Yet you take basic business etiquette and use it to ruin an arrangement we have been anticipating for months.¡±

    Am I supposed to be threatened by that glare? ¡°Again, you reap what you sow.¡±

    ¡°You will come to regret this.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it. Howie already asked you to leave. I suggest you hurry.¡± I make a shooing motion. ¡°Despite everything, tonight has been peaceful. You don¡¯t want to change that.¡±

    He glares at me for a moment before walking off. Once the door closes behind him, I retake my place on my stool. ¡°Well, that was fun.¡±

    ¡°Was that smart?¡± Alana asks. ¡°You¡¯re going to be fighting alongside those people in a couple weeks and you¡¯ve made enemies of two prominent guilds.¡±

    ¡°If they¡¯re petty enough to stab me in the back over bad business, I¡¯m better off.¡±

    She smiles. ¡°Agreed. Howie, give me the usual.¡±

    ¡°Drinking now?¡±

    ¡°The meeting¡¯s over, isn¡¯t it?¡± She downs half the mug immediately. ¡°You¡¯re going to have a problem selling that stuff at the fort. Father is strict with mercantile licenses.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll sell it outside of the fort. On the road, if I have to. Or maybe on the battlefield. Doubt he¡¯ll try to sanction me there.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re ridiculous.¡±

    -

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Master Lou, you have a guest.]

    Hours later, my eyes snap open as Bell¡¯s voice coaxes me from sleep. I glance at Alana, who is sleeping against my chest, and Kierra, who sprawled out on my left, before noting the sun hasn¡¯t risen. Who is visiting me at this time?

    [The halfling¡¯s barmaid is downstairs, crying herself silly. It seems the brewer has been taken.]

 ARC 6-Winter War-11

    Eh? Something happened to Howie?

    [It would appear so. The barmaid is quite distressed and the feeling is genuine.]

    Saints damn it all. I didn¡¯t think the guilds would be petty enough to retaliate this soon. How can monster hunters be so hot-headed? Don¡¯t they care how it looks? Don¡¯t they fear any repercussions?

    These bastards are really looking down on me. I wonder who it is. The supposedly number one ranked guild? I find it hard to believe any group ambitious enough to achieve that title is willing to settle for second-rate potions over the best that is Howie¡¯s brews. Especially when they are about to risk their lives in a place where the best of the best die in droves.

    Or could it be the guild full of noble rejects? I don¡¯t have to take a step inside their inner circle to know it¡¯s a cesspit. If they¡¯re anything like that Nimble bastard, they¡¯d kidnap Howie without a second¡¯s thought. They also seemed inordinately interested in that Haze drink. Interested enough to resort to unscrupulous means? I wouldn¡¯t put it past them.

    Finally, there¡¯s the Shadow Wolves. The guild responsible for the failed meeting. The guild that has already threatened the brewer multiple times, though they¡¯ve never resorted to violence against him. I suppose it was only a matter of time. Powerful people aren¡¯t known for their patience. Or their tolerance of perceived insults.

    Whoever it is, they¡¯re going to regret this. I made an agreement with Howie and warned them directly. That makes this an assault on me too. Doubly bad for my future victims, I don¡¯t have the time to handle this politely. Going through proper procedures could take days and end without clear resolution. In that time, there¡¯s no telling what could happen to the poor halfling.

    I carefully move away from Alana, rolling on top of my wife. Hands grab my waist as she hums. A quick flip of a ¡®film¡¯ and I can see her slightly opened eyes and amused smirk clear as day. ¡°Right beside our star?¡± she purrs in a voice husky with sleep. ¡°Do you think you can keep quiet?¡±

    ¡°Tempting, but no.¡± I lean forward until our noses touch and whisper as softly as I can, ¡°Wanna go on a rampage with me?¡±

    Her eyes snap open, gaze darting over my features, gauging me. ¡°¡­you are serious.¡±

    ¡°Very.¡± I carefully roll out of bed and she is quick to follow, both of our movements slow and tense as we do our best to avoid waking the sleeping saint. Once the door is closed behind us, my wife latches on to me with an eager smile.

    ¡°What has brought this on?¡±

    ¡°Someone did something stupid.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell scampers down the stairs before us to a waiting Geneva, smiling softly while her tail wags lazily. Nomad enters the room shortly after we descend. I shiver as his dark gaze, complete with its usual bags, lands on me.

    I don¡¯t know what to make of him after Geneva¡¯s investigations into his origins. The memories she unearthed are as unbelievable as they are confusing. The barest fraction of what they suggest is enough to make me incredibly uncomfortable around him. If it was the previous me, I¡¯d be outright terrified.

    Howie¡¯s barmaid is seated on one of our couches, her usual apron abandoned, blowing her nose into a handkerchief. I thought Bell was exaggerating when she said the usually stoic woman was crying herself silly. Mm, this is serious.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I lay a hesitant hand on her shoulder. A part of me wants to comfort her but even if I was good with such things, we aren¡¯t close enough for it to feel anything but awkward. ¡°Tell us what happened.¡±

    She takes a deep breath to still her sobs, tugging on the poor handkerchief to vent. ¡°We were closed for the night and Howie was drinking like usual when the doors were knocked down. Two people rushed in. One attacked me while the other went after Howie. Once they had him, they both ran off.¡±

    Two attackers. My immediate thought is disdain, wondering how they failed against such a meagre force. Then I remember that most people don¡¯t measure up to the standards of my household and they were probably drunk on that half-gob¡¯s impressive drinks at the core of this mess. ¡°What can you tell us about them? Appearance? Fighting style? Did they say anything?¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°They were both dressed in black. Black cloth covered their faces¡­¡± Her face is pinched in concentration before she shakes her head. ¡°They didn¡¯t say anything either but the one who attacked me had the fire affinity¡­I think.¡±

    ¡°You think?¡±

    ¡°It was weird. His hands were covered in reddish mana, so it had to be the fire affinity, but he didn¡¯t use fire. He was a martial fighter and everywhere he hit me, I became frighteningly cold. It¡¯s what kept me from chasing them. He hit my legs and I couldn¡¯t run properly. The second one¡­I barely saw him. Didn¡¯t see him use any magic but he was fast, even with Howie on his shoulder.¡±

    I suppose I can¡¯t expect criminals to leave notes with their names and details on them. ¡°And? Once they were gone¡ª¡±

    ¡°I stumbled after them but quickly realized that I couldn¡¯t catch up. So, I moved to the closest guardhouse as quickly as I could.¡± She scowls. ¡°Useless bastards. They¡¯re so scared of the guilds, they¡¯d only move if they saw someone murdered right in front of them. Wasted time asking me if I was sure I¡¯d been attacked and my boss kidnapped. Cowards, all of them. The lord too.¡±

    She pauses before hesitantly raising her gaze to meet mine. ¡°Then I remembered you. Howie seemed pretty relaxed while you were around so I thought you might be able to help¡­¡± She swallows heavily. ¡°I-I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll reward you once he''s okay, so please!¡±

    ¡°Stop!¡± I hold up a hand to cut her off as she looks like she¡¯s about to start begging. ¡°You don¡¯t have to throw yourself at my feet. I¡¯m going to help.¡±

    Some of the tension in her shoulders eases. ¡°Then we have to go. Right now!¡±

    ¡°We will.¡± This is a good opportunity to see how I compare to the elite of Quest. And not just me. The kids need their sleep but¡­ ¡°Nomad, bring the carriage around.¡±

    ¡°Let not the fires burn too long lest the world be blinded by the ashes,¡± the possibly-a-celestial mutters as he leaves. It¡¯s his usual vague nonsense but now there¡¯s a real chance that there is something behind it. No, no. Already decided I¡¯m not going to touch what¡¯s going on with my strange servant without ample information and preparation. Hopefully, Geneva can find me more clues.

    ¡°Bell, go wake up my gardener. Tell him to prepare for a possible fight.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± the barmaid mutters, fresh tears wetting her eyes.

    ¡°How exciting,¡± Kierra purrs.

    -

    Ours is the only carriage on the road as we head for the edge of the Grand Market, the entry point to the Hall. The earth casters in charge of raising and lowering the platforms that grant entry from the city give us a curious look but have the tact not to ask questions, taking our payment and sending us on our way.

    Quest is a bit more active but the streets aren¡¯t exactly bustling at the early hour. There is no one to complain as we thunder down the roads, headed for Howie¡¯s bar. We make it there in record time and our small group converges at the entrance.

    ¡°I thought you said he didn¡¯t use any fire?¡± I ask pointedly, looking at the scorched walls and ceiling. The bottles along the back wall are mostly shattered, glass sprinkling the counter and the floor around it. Most of the furniture is intact but turned over and strewed across the room haphazardly. With the brewer missing, the bar feels even emptier than usual.

    ¡°I threw a few spells but I don¡¯t know what happened.¡±

    ¡°Fires like good drink as well,¡± Kierra says while chuckling.

    The barmaid coughs, the faintest flush to her cheeks. ¡°Anyway, how are we going to find him?¡±

    I clap, making her jump. ¡°Pets.¡± As my succubi move to the center of the room, I put an arm around the barmaid¡¯s shoulder and turn her around. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t watch.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    A quick glance over my shoulder and I catch the faintest glimpse of pulsing red flesh. I avert my gaze before the retaliation can affect me. The transformation takes longer than usual, a matter of minutes rather than moments. Then I hear something large puttering around behind me, making strange snapping sounds.

    ¡°How cute,¡± my wife coos.

    ¡°Not very subtle, Belolial, but a good choice otherwise,¡± Geneva says in the tone of a tutor. ¡°I prefer to inflict a more alien fear.¡±

    Her transformation is much faster and audible, the wet sounds of flesh twisting and folding making me itch. The poor woman under my arm is trembling. ¡°What¡­what are¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. Here, wait by Gajin.¡± I communicate with my eyes for the gardener to comfort her as I lead her to him.

    Ill-used to entertaining others from both his time as a bandit and his time in my service, he looks more than a little uncomfortable at the prospect but takes on the job bravely. I turn as he produces a flower from his jacket to look over my succubi.

    In the place of my adorable imp is an eight-legged monstrosity that vaguely resembles a canine. Thick, gray fur, a bushy tail, triangular ears, four of them, and a long muzzle. That¡¯s where the similarities end.

    The creature has no eyes. There¡¯s two folds in the skin at the proper place that suggests where they should be, or worse, once were, but there¡¯s no bulge to suggest the presence of eyeballs.

    Where¡¯s its nose should be is a strange pink appendage. It looks like two hands pressed together at the palms, four wiggling fingers extended on either side, each half as long as my arm, which is still comparatively small on the creature that¡¯s nearly as tall as me and much bulkier.

    Standing beside it is another horror. This one is vaguely human, standing upright on two legs while crossing two arms, and bowing its head. That¡¯s it. No eyes. No ears. No nose. No hair. Nothing but a solid shadow, its skin a bit shiny like the back of a beetle. It¡¯s also incredibly tall and slender. If I saw a person that skinny, I¡¯d think they¡¯d already died of starvation and that only makes the thing scarier. Extending from its brow are two antennae, reinforcing the insectoid image.

    I don¡¯t even want to imagine how or where they came across such forms.

 ARC 6-Winter War-12

    ¡°Rrrooikk.¡± Was that a growl or a squeak? [Master Lou, I have the halfling¡¯s scent, along with the attackers¡¯.]

    [I as well.] How? You don¡¯t even have a nose. Her antennae twitch. Maybe? [You shouldn¡¯t underestimate a creature¡¯s senses because it doesn¡¯t have a recognizable structure.]

    I¡¯ll trust you. ¡°Alright. Nomad, stay here and start cleaning up. Gajin, take her and go to the closest guardhouse.¡±

    ¡°I already told you they won¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll listen to you,¡± I say sharply, ¡°because you¡¯re going to explain to them that a master caster is about to settle a score.¡±

    ¡°Master caster?¡± She looks at me dubiously. I jerk my head in the direction of my wife, who is busy stretching. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Gajin will convince them. Right?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, milady,¡± he mutters, rubbing tired eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to save them.¡±

    ¡°Hurry, pets,¡± Kierra growls with excitement. ¡°We will hunt them before the sun rises, while they remain unalert. Keep up with me, Lou.¡±

    Hah, are you kidding? This is what I¡¯ve been training for. What I remade myself for. ¡°I¡¯ll be right beside you.¡±

    -

    It¡¯s a good thing the streets are empty as the four of us tear out of the bar and race down the streets. Bell is in the lead, her weird sniffer the most adept at tracking. Right behind her new, bushy tail is Kierra and Geneva with me bringing up the rear.

    We move toward the heart of the city, where the buildings are taller and the roads are wider, fast enough the wind whistles in my ears. I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t excited, my heart pounding in my chest at the thought of the impending action.

    At some point, I¡¯ve become numb to my old fear of confronting powerful people, inheriting my wife¡¯s enthusiasm. Probably when I became strong enough to throw horses and tough enough to deflect a sword with my bare hands. Fighting is a lot more fun when you¡¯re sure you¡¯re going to win.

    We come upon our first witness, a plain carriage with a single lantern hanging off its side. Understandably, the driver is startled, yelling and yanking on the reins. His horses aren¡¯t pleased with that.

    We all move to avoid the carriage as it loses control. Bell leaps over it, making the driver scream and cower. I follow Kierra as she darts to one side. Geneva scuttles under the thing but then suddenly straightens, tossing the carriage into the air.

    ¡°Really?¡± I shout as the driver and his passengers scream.

    [We are rampaging, are we not? And they will live.]

    ¡°Keep the damage to the innocents at a minimum.¡±

    [As you wish.]

    The air starts to smell of tasty foods and sweaty, drunk people as we enter an area full of taverns, it seems. The streets are more crowded and the people aren¡¯t happy to see us. They scream and scatter as we thunder down the road, throwing aside carriages and wagons.

    ¡°Rrroik!¡± [Master Lou, the scents diverge here. One of the attackers carried the halfling one way while his companion ran another.]

    Bell, stay on Howie. Geneva, track down the other one and drag him before me. Fight as you see fit but damage to a minimum.

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    Geneva breaks off and dashes away, leaping into a building through a window and eliciting more screams. A shrill whistle pierces the air and several armored men rush toward the tavern. I turn away as they enter, shaking my head. A wild laughter bubbles up and escapes my throat. Can¡¯t wait to see what madness she¡¯s going to report to me later.

    We reach the area of the city with the tallest buildings. It doesn¡¯t take a genius to deduce these are the headquarters for the guilds. If the workers moving wagons of manabeast corpses and odd number of individuals with weapons on the street didn¡¯t give it away, the banners hanging over the doors would. Only knight orders and guilds do that.

    ¡°Monster!¡±

    Predictably, the hunters seeing my imp turned nightmare dog mistake her for a monster. Also, predictably, they attack.

    Suddenly, we¡¯re dodging a storm of attacks. Fire, lots of fire, strong gales of wind, rocks, ice, arrows, knives, and more rain down on us. Few hit and those that do we shrug off. A few brave souls run into the middle of the street to stop us with physical force but they don¡¯t last a moment, snapped up in Bell¡¯s massive maw filled with dark tentacles covered in sharp barbs or thrown away by my laughing wife.

    ¡°Rrr!¡± [Master Lou, the building ahead!]

    The red banner with a torch on it waves in the breeze stirred up by the wind created by the casters trying to impede us. The Torchbearers. Didn¡¯t expect that. ¡°Ram it!¡±

    Bell lets out a screeching howl before picking up speed. The attacks intensify as we near the building but they aren¡¯t enough to stop us. The two hunters at the door, both dressed in crimson robes, erect a wall of flame. Bell jumps right through it, taking down the door and a good section of the wall.

    ¡°Left!¡± Kierra shouts before I lose sight of her in the flames.

    I barely feel the heat as I dart to the right. I find the caster by his racing heart, slamming a fist into his chest. The air is knocked from his lungs and his ribs snap as he is thrown to the ground. The wall of fire falls and I see Kierra jumping through the hole in the face of the building, her target lying in a growing puddle of blood. I quickly follow her.

    More red-robed casters are trying to subdue Bell. The air shimmers from the extreme heat in the room and countless spells of flame splash uselessly Bell¡¯s gray fur. She swings her busy tail and the fur at the end flies, dozens of needles piercing those who aren¡¯t fast enough to dodge. The martial fighters who rush her are held back by paws the size of my head, wickedly sharp claws at their ends easily cutting through their breastplates and helmets.

    ¡°You bastards!¡±

    I turn to see someone rushing me, sword raised. A quick blow to the stomach doubles him over, but I have to quickly step out of the way of a spell. Spotting the caster, I lift my first attacker and fling him, grinning at the caster¡¯s startled expression before he¡¯s knocked over by his comrade.

    Let¡¯s see. Multiple moving targets, most of them fire casters. They likely have spells to resist heat, otherwise they wouldn¡¯t be trying to cook us. No need to expose my other affinities. That leaves¡­

    I quickly scoop up some of the stones dislodged by Bell¡¯s violent entrance, crushing them until they¡¯re vaguely round. Then I take aim at one of the casters, launching a stone.

    I wince as it pierces through his chest, leaving a gaping hole, the man crumbling like a puppet with its strings cut. Saints. Didn¡¯t mean to kill him. A little less strength. And maybe I should aim for their legs.

    With the three of us working together, it doesn¡¯t take long to subdue the room. Where is he, Bell?

    [Below us.]

    I can hear reinforcements coming from the floors above and gathering outside. Let¡¯s not waste time looking for stairs. Straight down.

    A moment later, the wooden boards of the floor snap and the ground gives away, a cloud of dust surrounding us as we fall down, landing in a narrow hall. A hunter carrying a ring of keys in their hand has a moment to gape at us before a stone dents his helm. I don¡¯t have time to see how he fares as the ground rumbles and we fall again.

    This time, we land in a large room. An underground workshop? Or a storeroom. It has elements of both, with tables lined with glass cylinders and vials while crates are stacked in the corners. Between the lanterns hanging off hooks are papers with pictures of plants and manabeasts, notes scribbles in the margins. The air smells thickly of herbs and medicine.

    In one of the room¡¯s corners, sitting in front of a pile of crates, is Howie, tied to a simple chair. With his head bowed, I can¡¯t see his face, but he seems unharmed and his heartbeat is strong.

    Standing in front of him is Cordy, the representative of the Torchbearers at the earlier meeting, features moving from pinched anger to slack surprise as he stares at us. Beside him is Simone, the consul who arranged the meeting. Beside him is another man in a crimson robe I don¡¯t recognize.

    Kierra turns to me, letting me decide how to proceed. I toss a rock up and down. They get one chance. ¡°Does somebody want to explain why my favorite brewer is in your basement?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-13

    The stranger turns to us with disapproval but it is dismissive. He could care less about us besides the fact that we¡¯ve interrupted his business. Not even Bell, the literal monster that barged through his floor. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome.¡± Simone cuts Cordy off. ¡°An annoyance and the one responsible for this mess. You¡¯ve made a mistake coming here.¡±

    ¡°Wait a moment!¡± Cordy shouts. ¡°You want to drag another innocent into this? Enough is enough. Nothing irreversible has happened tonight. Please, put an end to this, guildmaster!¡±

    The pleading caster turns to the stranger but there is no sympathy in the elderly man¡¯s piercing blue eyes. ¡°The guilds protect each other,¡± the apparent guildmaster says, voice turning raspy as he projects. ¡°We, as the preeminent monster hunters on this continent, have kept this city and the kingdom safe for generations. We didn¡¯t do that by being picky about our methods.¡±

    ¡°Master Emeritus!¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± He glares at Cordy until the middle-aged man hunches his shoulders and retreats like a scolded boy. ¡°Our soldiers, your brothers and sisters in arms, are preparing to march north and face near certain death. This¡­man has potions that can save lives. We tried to do the decent thing and pay him a fair price but he refused. Are we meant to not give our people the best chance at survival possible because of his childish tantrum?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the old days,¡± Cordy mutters. ¡°And they aren¡¯t just anyone. She¡¯s from the Hall. Do you want Dunwayne taking issue with us?¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Despite his legendary status, Dunwayne is still a man. There is a reason the Hall minds its own business.¡±

    ¡°She came here of her own will,¡± Simone follows, the look in his eyes malicious. ¡°Surely, she is prepared to accept the consequences.¡±

    ¡°I should be saying that to you.¡± I sneer at the apparent guildmaster. ¡°You kidnapped an acquaintance of mine. I am fully within my rights to retrieve him with force. No one¡¯s going to come to your defense after we¡¯ve kicked your asses.¡±

    ¡°The guilds need no one¡¯s protection.¡± Master Emeritus, was it? I wonder, is he Cordy¡¯s master or a true master? He looks to Kierra and his brows furrow in confusion. ¡°His kin? I can understand your coming but sympathy won¡¯t save you. Surrender, and I promise to make your deaths quick.¡±

    ¡°Lou¡­¡± I glance to the side as Kierra licks her lips. Dark green scales spread along her arms and face. ¡°He is mine.¡±

    Alright. Bell, focus on subduing the other two while I get Howie out of danger. ¡°I¡¯ll make you a better offer. Stand back, let me leave with the brewer, and no one has to die.¡±

    ¡°Arrogance.¡±

    Simone looks eager for the fighting to begin, his eyes on me. Beside him, Cordy is conflicted but he doesn¡¯t move, not even to separate himself from the kidnappers. A shame. I like the polite caster but he¡¯s made his choice. Bell.

    A howl echoes through the room. Cordy and Simone flinch but the guild master contains his reaction to a grimace as his eyes glow. White flames erupt around him, reflecting off pieces of glass as the bottles and vials on the tables shatter, their remains gathering around Bell.

    Kierra leaps at the guild master, jumping right through the flames, aiming a kick at his chest. I expect him to fly away, maybe for his torso to be separated from the rest of his body. Instead, nothing. He doesn¡¯t even flinch but the room becomes much hotter.

    ¡°A physical wielding martial fighter,¡± Master Emeritus sneers. ¡°A poor match.¡±

    ¡°How long will your mana lasts?¡± she retorts, voice full of amusement.

    ¡°Long enough to see you turned to ash.¡± The fire around him converges into a ball. Kierra jumps away as it suddenly expands, a wave of force and heat throwing her backward. Even I can feel the heat, my skin warming as it did before my new body when I¡¯d basked under the summer.

    White flames surround the guild master again before taking the form of three great serpents. He launches them at Kierra, who¡¯s just gotten to her feet. She¡¯s still fast enough to dodge their twisting bulk, the room shaking as they slam into the far wall.

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    At the same time, Bell launches her own attack, hundreds of glass shards heated by the white flames flying toward the other two casters. A wall of gray ice appears, already melting in the intense heat. A perfect cover for me to dash past. I chuck my remaining rocks at the barricade as I run for Howie, the impacts enough to shatter the already severely weakened defense.

    Bell leaps over me as I rip away the rope binding the brewer to the chair. I¡¯m about to put him on a shoulder but am forced to tackle him to the ground as a gout of white flame passes over my head.

    ¡°Your opponent is here!¡± Kierra shouts, followed by a loud crash.

    ¡°Insolent!¡±

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Simone curses as spines from Bell¡¯s tail pierces his arm. ¡°I can¡¯t fight like this! I¡¯m going to go get help!¡±

    Cordy has no leeway to respond, busy fending off Bell¡¯s large paws and the barbed tentacles in her mouth with small explosions, barely holding her back. I hear him clearly though.

    Putting Howie on my shoulder, I race after the retreating hunter, catching up to him in a moment and grabbing him by the back of his head.

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    That¡¯s all he has the time to say as I clamp down, shattering his skull. Blood leaks from his ears as his arms fall limply to his side. I toss him aside, heart pounding. I have to get away. Kierra¡¯s fight is only growing more intense and Howie isn¡¯t as sturdy as the rest of us. But the hunters are gathering on the floor above us. The more cautious are holding back the eager, keeping them from jumping into the fight.

    My heart thunders as I race through the room and leap at the hole in the ceiling. I have a moment to savor the collective shock of the men and women gathered around it, watching me with wide eyes and dropped jaws. Then my feet touch the ground and I jump again, to the ground floor of the building.

    I didn¡¯t bother to notice before but this seems to be a tavern-like space, with a bar and tables for eating.

    ¡°Haahhh!¡±

    I would have noticed him anyway but the skinny swordsman makes it easy by yelling as he approaches. It¡¯s laughably easy to catch his arm, bringing him to a sudden halt.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he shouts, full of indignant rage. ¡°Why are you attacking the Torchbearers?¡±

    Sorry, but I don¡¯t have time for explanations. Instead of answering, I throw his arm to the side before lightly punching him. He crumples but he isn¡¯t dead. I grab him by the front of his armor, denting the metal, and drag him toward the counter. Howie is dropped first, then the eager swordsman on top of him, behind the tall counter. There, no one will look at them twice.

    The vulnerable brewer hidden and out of harm¡¯s way, I jump back down the hole, startling the hunters gathered in hall below again as I fall.

    The room has become a sea of fire. A mix of white and yellow flames hot enough to turn the stone floor red and burn away my clothes. I drop a film over my eyes, shielding them from the brightness of the spells, but it doesn¡¯t help me see. I have to rely on my ears.

    I ignore the meaty thumps of Kierra bludgeoning the guild master while he attempts to burn through her wyvern scales and head for Bell. Once I¡¯m right on top of her, I can make out what¡¯s happening.

    She¡¯s given up on her strange form, the massive canine replaced by her usual imp self, crouched low to the ground as her skin smokes. In small patches, it ignites but then the skin is sloughed off. Several pieces already surround her, rapidly turning to ash.

    Standing above her is Cordy, sweat beading on his brow and face pinched with stress. I can do nothing and Bell will exhaust him, healing his attempts to burn her until his core is empty, but it''ll be over before that.

    While she pretends to be pinned, the stone above him is cracking. It soon gives way and several large pieces of ceiling rain down on the poor caster, crushing him before he has a chance to realize the danger.

    ¡°AAAAGGGHHH!¡±

    As the flames around us begin to dwindle, I turn to see a naked Kierra, covered in wyvern scales, standing before the kneeling guild master. The elderly man¡¯s face is pale and drawn, one hand covering the stump where his arm should be. My stomach rumbles at the smell of cooking meat and his hand drops, revealing a now charred stump. ¡°This isn¡¯t over,¡± he spits, struggling to his feet.

    ¡°I wonder, do you taste as good as you smell?¡± she purrs. ¡°Animals with high mana always make the best meals.¡±

    ¡°Monster!¡± he roars as he raises a hand. A gout of white flame rushes out from his palm. My wife has the gall to bask in it, stretching languidly as the flames wash over her. It finally ends when the guild master is bent over with exhaustion, sweat on his brow and breathing labored. Mana strain.

    ¡°You¡­how¡­¡±

    The snap of his neck breaking is the answer.

    ¡°A bit of kick to him but nothing like a dragonkin. I believe he thought I was merely bolstering my defenses as opposed to shapeshifting. A regrettable assumption.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t relax too much,¡± I tell her as her scales start to recede but my eyes are on her dead opponent. That was a master caster, wasn¡¯t it? And she just killed him in, what, maybe a few minutes? Saints. To think I came to help.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    I catch Bell as she launches herself at me. ¡°We¡¯ve got a whole lot of enemies up top who are going to be pissed about their guildmaster dying.¡±

    ¡°The halfling?¡±

    ¡°On the ground floor. Listen up. We¡¯re going to grab him and run. Anyone who tries to stop us is fair game but I¡¯m not spending the whole night fighting every hunter in his city.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Let us see if they can entertain me more.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Ready, Bell? You¡¯re the distraction.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    Unsurprisingly, the hunters above are taking action. A sheet of stone and ice is rapidly covering the hole. Grabbing Bell by base of her neck, I launch her at it as hard as I can.

    The weak barrier shatters. I catch a momentarily glimpse of her disappearing into the crowd of hunters before the screaming begins.

 ARC 6-Winter War-14

    ¡°What the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get it¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fuck¡ª¡±

    I catch a brief glimpse of a small, orange blur tearing through the hunters gathered in the cramped hall, the tight confines doing them no favors, before I ascend to the ground floor. The room is still empty. I suppose all the fighters in the building are currently wrestling with Bell and the rest have evacuated or run for help. There is quite a crowd outside, judging from the rapid heartbeats, murmured conversation, and shuffling footsteps.

    Kierra ascends from the bottom floor as I¡¯m retrieving Howie from behind the bar. She closes her eyes and cocks her head slightly. ¡°I know you wish to limit casualties but I do not think the group outside will appreciate your efforts.¡±

    ¡°Without a doubt.¡± I doubt everyone outside is involved in this plot to kidnap Howie but I¡¯ve made quite a ruckus and caused some damage. Whether it¡¯s other guilds or the city guard out there, they¡¯re going to want to detain me so someone who¡¯s going to hate their job in the morning can straighten everything out.

    Unfortunately, I cannot allow that to happen under any circumstances. There is a method to escape any amount of trouble that nobles have employed for generations. This method has two crucial elements. The first is to be too annoying to confront.

    Take the Masons, formerly known as the Grimoires. They are a family of blackmailers, thieves, spies, murderers, and sexual deviants. Have been for generations. Arrogant bastards who trampled on those beneath them and showed little, if any, respect to their supposed superiors.

    Despite that, they were wealthy and influential. People treated them with respect. They were welcomed in every social circle with open arms. Their patriarch was a royal adviser, for saints¡¯ sake. All because it would have been too much of a hassle to deal with them.

    The second key to avoiding any amount of trouble is an excuse. It doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s proper justification or blatant deception, those in charge need something to blame their lack of response on.

    No, no, everyone! You¡¯re misunderstanding. It¡¯s not that we didn¡¯t detain the crazy woman and her wife because we didn¡¯t want to suffer heavy losses for no profit. It¡¯s the guilds who are in the wrong! They kidnapped an innocent man, threatening his life if he didn¡¯t give up his trade secrets and work for them like a slave. Evil bastards. Who would be able to hold themselves back from giving them a good thrashing? Could anyone say they wouldn¡¯t do the same?

    Something like that. A few coins in the right hands and/or an exchange of favors can smoothen things further. Saints, enough of them and people will start inventing your excuses for you.

    However, for this method to work, I cannot be detained, not even by my own will. They cannot think for a single moment that they can overpower us. If they do, it¡¯ll cost significantly more in lives to disabuse them of that notion later.

    In that sense, what we¡¯re about to do is for their own good.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to tear through them,¡± I tell Kierra as I call on my mana. The worst thing I can imagine from that group is a concentrated magical effort to trap us inside this building, followed by a magical bombardment.

    I may be beyond human comprehension but there¡¯s a limit to this form¡¯s endurance. The same to Kierra¡¯s pure affinity. She is strong and her regeneration is stronger, but both are limited to her coefficient, which will eventually run out.

    However, as long we¡¯re in motion, I can¡¯t imagine anything that can stop us. Saints, we¡¯re a caster¡¯s worst nightmare. Intelligent enemies fast enough to reach them before they can form complicated spells, strong enough to take them out in one blow, and sturdy enough to survive what should be lethal attacks.

    As long as we reach them, they won¡¯t be able to stop us and I¡¯m not concerned about them launching spells at our backs. Both of us can outrun a horse and distance variables eat up a caster¡¯s mana like nothing else.

    Fire is still my best element and by far the best for the job. Nothing grabs attention and shatters defenses quite like it. I can also use the wind affinity to empower it, a more efficient alternative to pumping a huge coefficient into a basic spell.

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    For the fire spell, I need high intensity but short duration. A big, hot spark. Strong distance variable. No fancy dimension variables, I don¡¯t need to throw twisting serpents or wolves or whatever other nonsense master casters do to show off.

    The wind affinity spell is far more complicated. I¡¯m slightly ashamed that I know some of the variables without knowing them. Geneva is¡­an interesting teacher. She openly admits she is a bit out of her comfort zone without being able to manipulate my mind and I outright refuse to let her into my mind like she does with the servants. That means we have to handle my instruction the old-fashioned way.

    Apparently, the air we breathe isn¡¯t one thing, but a bunch of things mixed together. While the wind affinity can move the air as a whole, it can also separate the whole into those smaller parts and manipulate them.

    As a fire caster, I know fire needs air. I¡¯ve recently learned that different parts of air are better for fire than others, just like some foods are better for people than others. The details escape me but Geneva taught me a set of variables for air that, in her words, ¡°makes fire hotter¡± and another set that ¡°makes a bigger boom¡±.

    The sound of claws scrabbling on stone makes me look over my shoulder as Bell pulls herself over the edge of the hole in the floor. Her small body is covered in scratches that heal as I watch. Good work. How much mana do you have left?

    ¡°Coo~¡± [I have a little over sixty percent of my coefficient left.]

    So accurate?

    [Much experience, Master Lou.]

    Huh. Bell is ready. Kierra is crouched, fingertips lightly touching the floor and eyes eager. All up to me.

    ¡°You in the building!¡± a voice shouts as I¡¯m putting the last touches on my spell. ¡°I am Captain Walter of Quest¡¯s city guard. With the authority granted to me by the lord of this land, I order you to surrender so that your crimes may be judged by the crown¡¯s law. If you resist, we will use force to subdue you.¡±

    Oh, no family name. This is going to be easier than I thought. I take a deep breath before shouting back, ¡°I am Lady Lourianne Tome. As you should know, a noble may only be detained by another noble of higher status or with a note of intention from the territory¡¯s lord.¡±

    As if the elites of the kingdom would allow themselves to be judged by any random person in uniform. ¡°I will not be surrendering myself. Any action taken to detain me will be seen as an unprovoked assault. I suggest you and your allies move aside.¡±

    ¡°¡­that may normally be the case but exceptions are made for nobles caught in the midst of a crime.¡±

    ¡°Your fucking title won¡¯t save you!¡± someone else shouts.

    ¡°Crime? What crime? I came to this guild chasing down two kidnappers who had snatched my friend, of which has already been reported to the guard. Once I found him in this building¡¯s basements, the people here attacked me. Any damage I¡¯ve inflicted was in self-defense. That I will swear to under interrogation.¡±

    Technically, this is all true and why I went out of my way to deliver warnings. I have given the lord, and the extension of his will outside, an out. A good enough excuse to turn a blind eye, at least until they can get a better understanding of the situation. And if I know this kingdom as well as I think¡­

    ¡°¡­I understand, Lady Tome. The lord will want to question you regarding tonight¡¯s events as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°What? You cowards¡ª¡±

    ¡°The city guard did receive a report about a possible kidnapping. If the Torchbearers are responsible, then this is no rampaging caster. The lord will need to review the situation. In the meantime, my duty is to de-escalate the situation. I suggest everyone return home and we will settle this in the morning.¡±

    ¡°You can go home,¡± the second voice shouts. ¡°We¡¯re going to teach this woman what it means to pick a fight with the guilds!¡± A war cry follows his words. ¡°Oi! Time or whatever your name is. Get your ass out here or we¡¯ll drag you out!¡±

    ¡°Violence will not be¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah, shut it! You city pansies were never going to do anything. The guilds will do the work, as usual.¡±

    There is a moment of silence. Then the captain barks out something and there are several heavy footsteps as the city guard makes a quick retreat. Smart man. Or perhaps experienced? It¡¯s one thing to confront a drunk caster on a rampage. It¡¯s a whole other thing to confront a scheming noble with enough power to bravely charge into a guild building.

    Thank the saints. The city guard not being caught in the crossfire will make this easier to sweep under the rug.

    ¡°I¡¯ll count to three! If you¡¯re not out by then, don¡¯t blame us!¡±

    I move in front of the hole in the face of the building, dropping a film to magnify my vision. I¡¯m still shrouded in darkness but I can see them clearly. There are dozens of hunters out there. Martial fighters in the front, wearing a mix of light armor, full plate, and casual clothes that says they¡¯d been caught unprepared by the sudden violence. Swords, spears, and shields are brandished.

    ¡°One!¡±

    Behind them are the casters, their glowing eyes saying they are ready to throw magic at the drop of a hat. Off to the side are more casters along with a few archers. Support and damage? Or perhaps those on the side are simply hoping they won¡¯t be noticed with the large group to take our attention. Bell, take them out. ¡°Kii!¡±

    My wife tenses, smiling wildly as my imp dashes through the side wall, forming a small hole for her escape.

    ¡°Three!¡±

    I throw my spell, grimacing as a full hundred units of mana is drained from me. Twenty units of fire and eighty units of fuel. They fly toward the crowd, one brilliant orange-yellow stream of flame followed by a large, invisible stream of air.

    ¡°Fire caster!¡± the stranger shouts and defenses are immediately raised. Shields of water and earth appear in front of the martial fighters. I tighten my hold on Howie, readying myself to run.

    My spells collide in front of the hunters.

 ARC 6-Winter War-15

    The sound of the explosion is deafening, drowning out my yelp of surprise as the ground shakes. Heat and, surprisingly, water wash over me. Flying debris harmlessly bounces off my body, small pokes below my waist.

    [Run, Master Lou!]

    I follow the instruction, opening my eyes as I sprint forward. Devastation. The hunters have been annihilated. Bodies are strewn haphazardly throughout the area. The force of the explosion gouged a crater in the road. And everything, everything, is scorched.

    Oi, what in the Abyss? Why was that so strong? That¡¯s master caster level damage. Adding a bit of air to fire makes it hotter not¡­whatever this is.

    No, I can worry about my unnaturally destructive spell later. My gaze finds Kierra and I focus on her, ignoring the destruction left in my wake as I hurry to catch up. She glances at me as I come up beside her. ¡°The pet?¡±

    ¡°She said it was good for multiple targets¡­¡± She didn¡¯t lie.

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell appears at my feet as we turn a corner. [An impressive display, Master Lou.]

    Too impressive. Saints, are all those people dead? They sure looked it. Their armors were on fire. I¡­ah, damn it! I do not regret this! I gave them fair warning. They were going to attack me, possibly kill me. But it doesn¡¯t feel good to have maybe massacred a bunch of people by accident.

    Not to mention this is not getting swept under the rug. Forget the lord and the law. The hunters are going to want my head on a pike. Or they¡¯ll treat me like the Abyss incarnate. If I wasn¡¯t famous, or infamous, in this city before, I certainly will be tomorrow.

    A sharp pain to the back of my head jolts me out of my thoughts. I turn to Kierra, who is watching me with a knowing look. ¡°Think on the battle once it is finished.¡±

    I¡¯ve already told myself the same thing. I can mull over my feelings later. First, we need to pick up Gajin, Nomad, and the barmaid. Then we need to get everyone back home before every guild master in Quest storms us.

    The wind howls and something pinches my shoulder.

    [Archer, above and behind us.]

    I look over my shoulder to see a woman flying after us, another arrow already notched. For a brief moment, a vision of Aurelius overlaps her. Perhaps I recognize his brand of disdain, the arrogance of someone used to being above others in a literal sense.

    Gritting my teeth, I stop and leap toward her. She curses and tries to move aside but a quick, clumsy burst of air knocks her back into my path. A gust of wind tries to do the same to me but she severely underestimates my weight and power. It feels like a light breeze is washing over me as I grab her ankle.

    With a rare lack of consideration for my strength, I hurl her toward the closest building.

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    I assumed she would slow herself down or at least try to cushion the impact. If she tries, she¡¯s either too slow or too weak. She hits the building and¡­splatters. That¡¯s the best way I can describe it in the brief moment I observe her before sprinting to catch up to my wife.

    After a few minutes of running, Kierra comes to a stop, throwing out an arm to stop me as well. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I ask, gaze darting around and finding nothing. Not for a good distance. If there were survivors of my spell, they¡¯ve thought better of pursuing us.

    ¡°Can you feel it?¡± Her eyes are glowing. ¡°A predator is stalking us.¡±

    I have no idea what she¡¯s talking about and am ready to hurry her along when I hear it. Footsteps, kind of far away but getting closer. They sound wrong. There¡¯s an odd cadence to the steps, a hesitation. And the sounds are¡­getting louder faster than they should. As if the person is sprinting between each step, but that makes no sense.

    ¡°Your mundane senses will not help. Listen to your heart. Your instincts.¡± She sucks in a deep breath. ¡°The air¡­it trembles. They are extending their domain.¡±

    Trembling air? Domain? ¡°What¡ª¡±

    From the moment I met her, Kierra has pushed me to be stronger. In the beginning, her priority was getting me to change the way I reacted to danger. Most people in a dangerous situation hesitate if they don¡¯t outright freeze. Whether because of fear or a want to analyze the danger makes no difference. Both die as the danger is not considerate enough to wait for them.

    My savage wife trained that very normal tendency out of me. She hurled knives and other sharp instruments at me until I learned to move. Duck, dodge, cast, or lash out with a fist, it didn¡¯t matter so long as I did something. Anything.

    I don¡¯t see the person dressed head to toe in black and wielding two daggers as they appear behind me. My body subconsciously recognizes danger and I drop as a knife darker than a new moon slices through where my neck was a moment ago.

    In the same moment, Kierra lashes out with a kick, catching them in the side. I hear the unmistakable sound of bones shattering as they fly away but before they smack into a building, the figure disappears.

    I catch my wife¡¯s arm before she can sprint into the building where I hear our attacker¡¯s pounding heart. ¡°They are injured and moving that way requires great strength,¡± she says without turning my way. ¡°Quickly, Lou. Before they escape.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Are you kidding me? Whoever that is has the null affinity. A well-trained null affinity. I¡¯m sure she has no idea how valuable that is in this kingdom. Important people are going to be upset if we hunt down someone like that, self-defense or not. More importantly, they retreated. I¡­enough people have died tonight. ¡°We¡¯re going.¡±

    ¡°The battle does not end until the enemy is dead.¡± She pulls against my grip but I hold steady.

    ¡°Now, Kii.¡±

    She stiffens and turns to me, eyes narrowed. I meet her look with my own glare and give her another tug. Slowly, her shoulders relax and her lips turn up in a smirk. After the next tug, she moves on her own, sprinting away from the mysterious null caster.

    [I have brought what you requested, my summoner.]

    A lithe shadow turns onto the road from a side street. It takes a moment for the instinctive fear the creature invokes to fade as I recognize Geneva. Huddled in a ball against her chest is a red object.

    No. Saints¡­that¡¯s a man, isn¡¯t it? One of the kidnappers. He¡¯s just covered head to toe in blood. Fresh, dripping blood that forms a trail behind us.

    What¡­what did you do?

    [I limited casualties as you ordered. No one died.]

    Why is there so much blood if no one died?!

    [Your kingdom¡¯s casters are too used to controlling their battles. They hunt monsters on their own terms, on pre-determined battlefields, with pre-determined strategies. Give them an intelligent enemy when they are unprepared and they are useless. Are you sure you do not want to conquer this kingdom? You would be doing them a favor.]

    Don¡¯t go using conquest to distract me. And we need to talk about the spells you¡¯ve been teaching me.

    [Oh? Were they effective?]

    Oh, sure. Very effective. Maybe too effective.

    She laughs in my mind, a low evil chuckle that makes my stomach cramp and sends a delightful shiver down my spine. [My summoner, there is no such thing.]

 ARC 6-Winter War-16

    Thankfully, for the hunters, we don¡¯t encounter any more resistance as we stop by the bar grab Nomad and then race to the guardhouse. There is a brief moment of tension as the guards gaze upon Geneva and promptly draw their weapons, but I manage to convince them that she is under my control before the first spell is flung. Then begins the explanation.

    Though, rather than an explanation, it¡¯s me hurling insults and accusations with the kind of entitled arrogance only a noble can manage. I insult them to the Abyss and back, demanding reparations from the city and the guilds for forcing me to risk my life and those of my servants due to their inaction. After all, the guards didn¡¯t take our plea for help seriously.

    I, who may have killed dozens of people and caused significant property damage, demanded reparations. The sheer audacity of it left the guards too stunned to stop us as we left the building.

    I keep our hostage hunter, ignoring their request to detain him. He can testify to our justification. Can¡¯t have any ¡°accidents¡± happening. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time a witness disappeared before they could make problematic statements against powerful people.

    And so, under the cover of darkness, our carriage moves through the city peacefully. Kierra and I on one bench, my wife looking pretty pleased with herself while I sit in a contemplative silence. Geneva, still in the form of a monster, our hostage hunter, clean but traumatized, and an unconscious Howie on the other bench. Bell is curled up on the floor between us and the servants are on the driver¡¯s bench.

    A light touch on my shoulder draws me out of my thoughts. I turn to Kierra. Her usual charming smile is a little annoying.

    ¡°Go on,¡± she says, removing her hand. She puts her back against the wall and curls her legs underneath herself, as if settling in for a good show. ¡°Grieve for your victims if you must. It is rare but even elves react as such after battle.¡±

    Why does she sound like I¡¯m being ridiculous? ¡°Things got out of hand,¡± I snap.

    ¡°Did you think there would be no casualties when you, in your words, decided to rampage through the streets?¡±

    I scowl. ¡°The point of skipping straight to the violence was to minimize damage in the long run.¡± I figured if we caught them by surprise and hit them hard enough, we could skip a lot of horseshit and save lives. Tonight would have been a hundred times worse if the guilds had prior warning and organized themselves against us.

    It''s kind of pointless if we end up committing a massacre anyway.

    ¡°Your plan went awry but you have accomplished your goals, have you not? Howie has been retrieved unharmed, your reputation has spread, and the guilds will not be eager to challenge us again.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± She¡¯s right but it doesn¡¯t feel like a flawless victory. Perhaps I simply can¡¯t trust her logic. Obviously, she wouldn¡¯t see anything wrong with what happened. I¡¯m not sure why I do.

    ¡°If you are dissatisfied with your performance in this battle, the answer is simple. Become stronger.¡±

    I groan. ¡°Strength isn¡¯t the answer to everything.¡±

    ¡°Is it not? If you were stronger, you could have subdued the hunters without killing them. If you had demonstrated overwhelming strength earlier, the hunters wouldn¡¯t have dared to target Howie in the first place.¡±

    I hate her muscle-brained logic sometimes. Particularly when she¡¯s bludgeoning me over the head with it.

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    ¡°Have I hurt your feelings, dedia?¡± One of her legs stretches out, her foot meeting my bare thigh, my clothes having burned in the white flames thrown around by the Torchbearers¡¯ guildmaster.

    ¡°Sorry, hm? I do not understand your disappointment. They made themselves enemies by getting in our way. You gave them chances to retreat and they rejected it. At that point, they resolved themselves to die, did they not? Why should you feel bad for killing them?¡±

    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t feel bad about killing them¡­¡± It¡¯s a shame they¡¯re dead but I¡¯m not grieving their deaths. They were strangers and they were trying to kill me. At the very least, harm me. It¡¯s¡­ah.

    ¡°I¡¯m upset that it was over something so stupid.¡± All this because they didn¡¯t want to be told no? Innocent people were dragged into it. Yes, that¡¯s it. I¡¯m upset that I killed a bunch of people who had little if anything to do with Howie¡¯s kidnapping and who probably were just trying to defend their friends and comrades all because of the selfishness of a few hunters. Saints damn them.

    Kierra makes a cooing sound as she crawls along the bench and drapes herself over me. ¡°My merciful conqueror. Your heart may hurt but victories are meant to be celebrated. You invite misfortune in future battles if you frown after a battle won.¡±

    I suck in a sharp breath as one of her hands trails over my chest before cupping a breast. ¡°Is that just an excuse to get in my pants?¡±

    ¡°What pants?¡± she whispers hotly. She chuckles as her opposite hand capitalizes on my lack of clothing by sliding between my legs but I trap it in place by squeezing my thighs.

    Her response is to kiss along my neck. ¡°I am serious, Lou. If you wallow in hurt, you will hesitate in the next battle. If you hesitate tomorrow, then you have lost today.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her lips are a good distraction. I turn toward her and draw her into a kiss. A soft one. That¡¯s all it takes to calm her ardor and she shifts from violent beast to comforting wife. She cuddles me while a gentle hand rubs circles on my back.

    The discomfort in my chest eases. What¡¯s done is done. It was a bit of a fuck up, but it¡¯s not as if I¡¯m used to throwing around my weight. Mistakes are bound to happen.

    But we will be having a talk, Geneva.

    [I look forward to it, my summoner. In the meantime, Howie is awakening.]

    ¡°Mmrrphh.¡± I can hear the brewer stirring on the opposite bench. Reluctantly, I pull away from the kiss. Kierra doesn¡¯t stop me, tugging on me until I rest my head on her breasts, relaxing as she plays with my hair.

    Howie slowly opens his eyes. He blinks as he takes in his surroundings, gaze lingering on Kierra and I before stopping on Geneva, eyes widening in surprise. ¡°Damn. Which clan birthed you?¡±

    ¡°That is our pet, not a twilighter.¡±

    ¡°Shapeshifter, huh. Pretty good. Don¡¯t try that in Twilight though, or the clans will have you bound and gagged in one of their tents before you can blink.¡± He sits up and stretches before wincing, a hand going to his head. ¡°I feel like I drank a whole bottle of Wilkie¡¯s Burning Bludgeoning. Those bastards¡­¡± His eyes meet mine. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Can¡¯t have my favorite brewer disappearing. What will we drink if you¡¯re gone? Water?¡±

    I chuckle as his lips twist in distaste but my smile quickly wanes. ¡°Though things got a bit messier than I wanted.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I can disappear for a while.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare. You¡¯re my justification so I need you to scream as loud as you can to as many people as will listen about the injustice and brutality of the guilds.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, Lou. By the way, who was it?¡±

    ¡°Torchbearers.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°We found you in their basement. The basement¡¯s basement actually.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Wouldn¡¯t have expected them. But that was probably the point.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    He sighs and scratches at his messy hair. ¡°See, the guilds have really deep connections. On the surface, they look like they compete but when it comes to outsiders, they band together. Why I never fought against those Shadow idiots. You fight one guild, you fight them all.¡±

    ¡°Hm. So, although the Torchbearers got a good deal, they still helped that Simple bastard snatch you because of some hunter brotherhood?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°I guess? Those types like to keep their workings secret. Anyway, if I¡¯m not running, where am I staying? And where¡¯s Sara? You didn¡¯t¡­leave her behind, did you?¡±

    I scoff. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t leave her. She¡¯s on the bench with my servants. You owe her a big thank you. If she wasn¡¯t so quick to come to me, who knows what would have happened to you tonight.¡±

    He lets out a sigh of relief. Guess they¡¯re pretty close. ¡°And you¡¯ll be staying with me until this mess is figured out. You and your barmaid might have to share a room though.¡±

    His cheeks flush faintly, the same dark green as Kierra¡¯s blush. Hoho, do I detect a hint of romance? ¡°Er, best not. Wouldn¡¯t want¡­eh-hem. Men and women don¡¯t share tents unless certain things are expected.¡±

    ¡°Alright, but someone¡¯s sharing a room with one of the servants.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-17-Interlude (Alana)

    Alana woke in the middle of the night.

    She didn¡¯t know what had pulled her from the realm of dreams until she stretched and met nothing but cool sheets. Frowning, she sat up in the dark room. Normally, the thrall lingered around Lou and would light candles whenever the need for light crossed someone¡¯s mind, but no flames appeared. Grumbling to herself, she cast a quick spell and extended her hand.

    A globe of light appeared over her palm, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. Vision confirmed that she was alone in the bed.

    Her first thought was that Lou and her wife had taken the succubi and gone off for a bit of fun, leaving the bedroom so they didn¡¯t wake her. A thought that caused conflicting emotions. On the one hand, it was sweet that Lou would wait until after she fell asleep before indulging. On the other there was the slight discomfort and jealousy knowing that Lou was with another woman. Somewhere in-between was the barely acknowledged annoyance that she hadn¡¯t been invited, at least to watch.

    She had already lied down again when something occurred to her. The house was too quiet. Lou was the opposite of quiet when she was enjoying herself. She¡¯d heard Lou in the bedroom from the welcoming room once. She could only imagine how much noise the four of them would make. Yet, the house was quiet as a grave.

    Slightly alarmed, she rolled out of bed and walked out the room. Her alertness was heightened as she moved through the quiet house. Downstairs, the faint glow of a candle led her to the kitchen, where she found the home¡¯s steward.

    ¡°Ah, Miss James.¡± Earl turned to her and bowed his head. Loose pants and a robe replaced his uniform but his movements were no less refined. ¡°I was just brewing some tea to help my sister sleep. Would you like a cup?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She didn¡¯t want sleep. She wanted answers to the bad feeling brewing in her gut. ¡°Do you know where Lou and Kierra are?¡±

    ¡°Mm. They had to run out on urgent business.¡±

    ¡°What kind of business?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. The head maid woke me to keep an eye on the house but did not give an explanation.¡±

    Alana sighs. ¡°Do you think you could take a guess?¡±

    ¡°Hm. As a servant, it¡¯s rather unseemly for me to speculate on my lady¡¯s motives but I believe she would forgive my breach of etiquette if it means easing your mind.¡±

    ¡°Thanks¡­¡± Sometimes, Alana wondered where they had found the young steward. His startling competence and unusual decorum weren¡¯t simply impressive, they were scary. She knew adults that couldn¡¯t conduct themselves with a fraction of his grace. Not to mention his discipline and loyalty, two traits desired in every servant.

    She wouldn¡¯t be surprised to learn he came from a long line of servants for high nobles, or even royalty, which would beg the question of what he was doing with Lou.

    ¡°My lady is a very reserved person, despite her tendency to find herself in interesting situations. She does not go seeking trouble but responds swiftly to those seeking trouble with her. An emergency likely means someone has laid a hand on one of her interests.¡±

    ¡°Her interests?¡±

    ¡°One of her lovers, one of her friends. Ah. She is preparing for summonings. Perhaps one of the materials she needs ran into problems during transport and she went to retrieve it herself.¡±

    ¡°With her wife and both elementals?¡±

    ¡°Yes, the amount of force she took with her suggests a conflict. Hence, my first guess of someone touching one of her interests. My lady would not respond kindly to that at all. If I cannot interest you with a cup of tea, perhaps you would like something else? Juice? Wine?¡±

    Alana grimaced. She didn¡¯t know what kind of wine Lou bought but it tasted amazing and kicked harder than a slapped mule. A cup of that would definitely send her back to bed. ¡°Juice and something to snack on, thanks.¡±

    ¡°No thanks required. Shall I bring it to the bedroom?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Alana stopped herself from thanking him again as she walked away. His deference was unusual. She¡¯d spent the first half of her life as a servant. After her father claimed her and she was brought to his home, she was ill at ease with being served. The servants didn¡¯t go out of their way to be courteous to her either, understanding her tenuous position in the family. They served her but they never catered to her.

    Earl was the first servant to treat her as a noblewoman. Even though she told him not to call her Lady James and asked him to relax his speech, his actions still showed utter deference.

    It was unnerving¡­but she couldn¡¯t deny she appreciated it. The part of her that seethed at her father¡¯s dismissal was pleased at receiving the respect that was her birthright, denied to her by sordid circumstances. Another thing Lou had given her that she hadn¡¯t known she wanted.

    -

    Hours later, Alana woke from a light doze to loud voices. She would have bolted down the steps and shook the answers she wanted out of Lou but the voice she heard was a man¡¯s. It would be inappropriate to let a strange man see her in her nightwear, never mind that it was just a large shirt, so she settled for waiting impatiently in bed.

    After several minutes, she perked up at the sound of feet on the stairs. The door to the bedroom opened and three people entered, a pensive Lou, an amused Kierra, and a smirking Geneva.

    And for some reason, all three were naked.

    ¡°Then I will prepare the bath.¡±

    Lou hummed as her succubus disappeared into the bathroom and wandered toward the bed. Before she could reach it, Kierra grabbed her by the shoulder and hugged her from behind. ¡°You will dirty the sheets.¡±

    ¡°Hm? Oh, mm.¡±

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    ¡°What happened?¡± Alana asked.

    Lou met her gaze. The violet eyes had a rare lack of energy. ¡°Nothing¡­and a lot.¡±

    ¡°That¡­doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it doesn¡¯t. You want the long version or the short version?¡±

    ¡°The long version.¡±

    ¡°Ah, okay. Just, ah, listen to the end.¡±

    Alana¡¯s eyes narrowed and Lou dodged the glare. ¡°What did you do?¡±

    ¡°The bath is ready,¡± Geneva announced.

    ¡°Good, good. Alana, let me soak for a minute. Want to¡­clean my mind. No, clear my mind.¡±

    ¡°Oi, Lou!¡± She scowled as the summoner walked off while muttering. After she disappeared into the bath, Alana turned to Kierra. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with her?¡±

    ¡°Growing pains,¡± the elf said with a laugh. ¡°If you wish to talk to me when the two of you are done, you can find me in my garden.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s abrupt exit only confused her more. Scowling, she debated with herself for several long moments. Then, coming to a decision, she slipped out of bed and stomped toward the bathroom, tossing her shirt as she went.

    Softly lit by the candles throughout the room and half submerged in steaming water, Lou was a vision. When she was quiet and still, without her flippant demeanor to make her more relatable, her beauty was breathtaking. Alana¡¯s heart stuttered in her chest as violet eyes, darker in the dim lighting, slowly opened and focused on her, following her intensely as she stepped into the bath. ¡°Got a problem?¡± she demanded.

    ¡°Not at all.¡± Lou waved a lazy hand. ¡°What¡¯s mine is yours to use as you please.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡± Alana settled into the water with a sigh, letting the pleasant scents relax her while their silence grew comfortable. When the moment was ripe, she asked, ¡°What happened tonight?¡±

    ¡°¡­we were at Howie¡¯s earlier because he was concerned that the guilds would attempt to use force to get what they wanted from him. He was right. They kidnapped him.¡±

    Alana sat up, shoulders tense. ¡°Where is he? Is he alright? What¡ª"

    ¡°Relax, sweetie. I already handled it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why it was an emergency.¡± A feeling she couldn¡¯t identify warmed Alana¡¯s chest. Was it¡­pride? Admiration? Attraction? ¡°You went to save him.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Tracked him down to a guild hall and stormed the place. Found him tied to a chair in their basement.¡± Lou rubbed her brow. ¡°Got him out.¡±

    ¡°¡­by force?¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t respond to me asking them nicely.¡±

    Alana nodded. Victory didn¡¯t take kindly to criminals and the orders didn¡¯t wait for the lord to pass judgment. It was common for knights to dispense their own justice but they would be held to account for damages they caused. Fights between knights could get messy. ¡°How bad?¡±

    ¡°Mm. The guild hall has several holes in it. And we messed up some of the road, I think. Not quite sure what Geneva got up to besides the carriage.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not sure what your elemental did?¡±

    ¡°They kidnappers split. I sent her after one while we went after Howie. I told her to limit casualties but asking her to avoid breaking property was a bit much. Knowing her, she probably took the opportunity to cut loose.¡± She groaned and covered her face with her hands. ¡°That¡¯s not the problem. I¡¯m the one that caused the most damage.¡±

    ¡°All battles have collateral.¡± The larger the battle, the more people who got hurt. Not all of them would be soldiers. The innocent could be hurt too.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make me feel better, sweetie.¡±

    Alana hesitated. Then she stood and moved to Lou¡¯s side before sinking back into the water, pressing their shoulders together. After another hesitation, she shifted, laying her head on Lou¡¯s shoulder and wrapping an arm around her waist. ¡°Better?¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°Mm~¡±

    ¡°How bad?¡± she asked again.

    ¡°I rather not ruin the mood¡­¡±

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    An arm slipped around Alana¡¯s back. ¡°A couple dozen hunters.¡±

    The blond froze. Slowly, she tilted her head up to look at Lou, who averted her gaze. ¡°A couple dozen?¡± That¡­that wasn¡¯t a fight. That was a slaughter.

    ¡°There was a group outside the guild hall¡ª"

    ¡°You could have found another exit.¡±

    ¡°And have all of them chasing after us? Besides, I was trying to make a point. I only wanted to knock them on their asses. But, uh, I tried a new spell and¡­it was stronger than I thought.¡±

    Alana closed her eyes. ¡°You used an untested spell in combat?¡±

    ¡°Ye¡ª"

    ¡°Idiot!¡± She punched Lou¡¯s thigh, further aggravated by the knowledge that her blows wouldn¡¯t hurt the tiniest bit. ¡°That¡¯s the basics of the basics! Who in the Abyss uses a weapon they haven¡¯t tested? Are you actually stupid?¡±

    Lou winced. ¡°Look, it was supposed to be a stronger version of a spell I¡¯ve used plenty of times. My teacher didn¡¯t say exactly how much stronger it¡¯d be. How was I was supposed to know I¡¯d be throwing out a master level spell?¡±

    ¡°Master level? Who is your teacher?¡±

    ¡°My thrall.¡± Lou chuckled as Alana gaped at her. ¡°You still think I contracted them to sleep with them, don¡¯t you? I¡¯m telling you, my elementals make the masters of their affinities look like children. Knowing that, I probably I should have expected something but it was only a hundred units of mana. There were dozens of them and they all put up defenses. They were strong. They shouldn¡¯t have been defeated so fucking easily.¡±

    Alana sighed. ¡°Lou, how easily would it be for us to defeat a commoner? A random street sweeper or a seamstress.¡±

    ¡°I could hurt someone like that if I sneeze too hard in their direction. And?¡±

    ¡°How easy would it be for a master to hurt an initiate?¡±

    ¡°Same.¡±

    ¡°Yet, an initiate could easily handle a commoner. There is no level of strength where you are guaranteed safety. If you were able to beat dozens of hunters, it doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re too weak, it means you¡¯re that strong.¡± She scowled as she jabbed Lou¡¯s cheek with a finger. ¡°Something you should already know. You are ridiculously strong. I¡¯m annoyed you don¡¯t seem to understand your own strength.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯m not¡ª"

    ¡°Who are you comparing yourself to? Kierra? Your elementals? Dunwayne? The saints themselves?¡± She poked Lou¡¯s cheek harder. ¡°Were you fighting people on that level? Of course not. It should have been obvious that you needed to be careful if you didn¡¯t want casualties.¡±

    ¡°I know that!¡± Lou grabbed her hand. ¡°It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t know how easily I can hurt most people. Why do you think I¡¯m so careful with you? And it¡¯s not like I didn¡¯t give them the chance! I told them to retreat. The city guards backed down. They should have done the same. I warned them. Every damn time, I gave them the chance to walk away!¡±

    ¡°You warned them? Gave them the opportunity to retreat?¡±

    ¡°Of course I did. Do you think I want to deal with the trouble that¡¯s coming my way? That I have the time? This was supposed to make things easier.¡±

    ¡°If you wanted to make things easier, you could have let the authorities handle it.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I didn¡¯t trust them before I found out that the city guard is scared shitless of the guilds and with good reason since the guilds have some kind of secret alliance going on. If I¡¯d left it to the authorities, Howie would already be out of the city, trapped in some sleepy village that isn¡¯t on any maps, forced to brew for the guilds for months or more before we found him. If we found him. And they could just kill him and cut their losses once the authorities got close. No, I couldn¡¯t take that chance.¡±

    There was that warm feeling again. ¡°Idiot.¡±

    ¡°Hey! I know you think the law is¡ª"

    Alana quieted her by placing a hand over her mouth. ¡°When they took Howie, they became criminals. When they attacked you, they became enemies. Neither is deserving of mercy. Sparing their lives would have been commendable but you aren¡¯t obligated to save your enemies. Feeling guilty about defending yourself and punishing evil is stupid.¡±

    Lou gaped at her as Alana moved her hand. ¡°But¡­I killed people. A lot of people.¡±

    Alana sighed. ¡°Yes. You really need to test a spell before you use it. It¡¯s one thing if it¡¯s stronger than you expect but what if it¡¯s weaker? Imagine how much worse your night would have been if their defenses held and they all charged you.¡±

    ¡°But¡­you got all pissed off when Orphelia killed those people¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t bring that snake into this!¡± Alana snapped. ¡°Like I said, her priority should have been capturing them alive for an investigation. Your priority was getting Howie to safety. She killed them even though they didn¡¯t attack her and without giving them the opportunity to surrender. You gave them the chance to walk away and were defending yourself. It¡¯s completely different. You didn¡¯t do anything wrong, Lou. It was clumsy, amateurish, and an all-around disappointment¡­but you didn¡¯t do anything wrong.¡±

    They lapsed into silence. Then Lou said, ¡°I love you, Alana.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-18-Interlude (Alana)

    Alana left Lou lounging in the bath and hastily dressed before exiting the house. She headed for Kierra¡¯s garden, stopping before the tall trees that marked its boundary. She rubbed her rapidly chilling hands together as she shouted, ¡°I¡¯m here!¡±

    Moments later, a dark figure came bounding over the higher branches. Kierra landed in front of her, posing without a care for her lack of clothing or the cold. She smiled, flashing two unusually sharp canines as she brushed her silver hair out of her face. ¡°You called?¡±

    Alana crossed her arms. ¡°I need to talk to you.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I thought you might.¡±

    ¡°Tonight was a mess. Lou is young and inexperienced. It¡¯d be unfair to expect much better from her but you¡¯re different. Why did you let things get so out of control?¡±

    ¡°Out of control?¡± The elf tilted her head like a curious animal. ¡°I think our ¡®rampage¡¯ was quite tame. Lou wanted little casualties and we abided her desires. I killed one caster. I even let prey escape.¡±

    ¡°You let her kill dozens of hunters.¡±

    ¡°Let her? Was I meant to stop her?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Alana shouted. She took a deep breath to calm her surging emotions. Everyone in Lou¡¯s house had incredible hearing. ¡°You may not care about people dropping like flies but, despite her callous exterior, Lou does. You knew she didn¡¯t want casualties so, as the more experienced fighter, you should have taken the lead rather than let her fumble about.¡±

    ¡°Fumbling about is how hunters learn. The cat slams its nose into the ground a hundred times before it sinks its claws into prey.¡± Kierra chuckled. ¡°You should be happy I did not take the lead. None would have survived.¡±

    ¡°None¡­¡± Alana shook her head. ¡°You are a terrible influence.¡±

    ¡°Oh? It is because of my influence that Lou accepted her desires. So maybe not so terrible, hm?¡± Her smile widened as Alana flushed. ¡°Though, Lou is no elf. There will be things we do not agree on. I cannot understand her guilt for killing those hunters. That is why I left her to you. Her star, who shares her softer desires.¡±

    Alana¡¯s mouth opened, ready to deny being called soft, but she paused. Kierra¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t hold disdain or mockery. She wasn¡¯t using that word as an insult, as it would have been in Victory. Besides, Lou liked how¡­ sweet she was when they were together.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be the soft one,¡± she said with much less heat than she originally intended. ¡°I should have been there to stop her.¡±

    Alana¡¯s fists balled at her sides. ¡°Lou isn¡¯t a bad person but she is flippant and petty. That fool could start a fist fight and end up burning the kingdom to the ground.¡±

    She couldn¡¯t stop herself from chuckling as Kierra laughed. ¡°No, don¡¯t laugh. You and those succubi only encourage her. She needs someone to pull on her ear when she gets out of hand. But I was left behind¡­because I¡¯m too weak.¡±

    ¡°What happened tonight would be a joke compared to what would happen if you came to harm.¡±

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    ¡°I know. So, I have to be stronger. Strong enough that I¡¯ll be there next time to help her think of a better way. Saints, strong enough that I can handle these idiots while Lou plays with her summoning.¡± The summoner had whined the entire time she was in the bath that the recent debacle would take away more time from her projects.

    ¡°You will not be able to stop my conqueror from fighting,¡± Kierra warned. ¡°She is powerful. The powerful are destined for conflict.¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯m stronger than her, I can fight those battles for her.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s eyes widened, lips parting as she stared at Alana¡¯s determined features. They held each other¡¯s gaze for several moments, the elf gauging her determination. Then Kierra covered her eyes with a hand, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

    ¡°You mean to, hah, make a flower, ha ha, out of my conqueror?¡± she squeezed out.

    ¡°A flower?¡±

    After a few deep breaths to calm herself, Kierra lowered her hand. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the future knight. ¡°You want to keep her safely tucked away in your bed, her only worries how best to please you when you return from glorious battle.¡±

    ¡°Wha-wa-wa-wa-what are you saying?!¡± Alana screeched and stuttered. ¡°I don¡¯t, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°No need to be shy.¡± Kierra stalked toward her with swaying hips. ¡°You have sampled her, hm? Having her tied to your bed and at your whims is an attractive offer.¡±

    ¡°I, uh, er, I¡ª¡± Alana squeaked like a startled mouse as Kierra wrapped her arms around her neck. She almost tripped as she was pulled forward, nose buried in the elf¡¯s soft chest. Her whole body flushed with embarrassment but she didn¡¯t find herself eager to escape.

    ¡°What about me?¡± the elf whispered into a red ear. ¡°Will you make a flower of me too? Perhaps you will take all Lou¡¯s women for your own, hm? Would you like that, Alana? Do you have the strength?¡±

    She couldn¡¯t take one more moment of the hot breath tickling her ear without doing something stupid. Alana squirmed in Kierra¡¯s arms until the elf released her, clearing her throat twice before she could speak properly. ¡°That¡¯s not the point.¡±

    ¡°Hm~ You can hide your motivations if you want. I care only what you can do. If your goal is to become strong, then I will help you reach the greatest heights possible. Starting tonight.¡±

    ¡°Tonight?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Strip.¡±

    Alana froze. She stared at the elf in disbelief but with each passing moment the woman¡¯s smile stayed in place, she became more certain of her seriousness. ¡°¡­it¡¯s cold.¡±

    ¡°I promise you will not feel the chill for long.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Lou wouldn¡¯t, um. What I¡¯m trying to say is¡ª¡±

    ¡°I will keep my hands respectful. Otherwise, she will take them.¡± Kierra dropped onto the grass, cross-legged. She waved at the future knight and patted her lap.

    Alana shuffled in place but, eventually, she moved closer. Eyes squeezed shut, she settled onto the elf¡¯s lap. She stifled a yelp as two strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. She bit her lip to hold in her reaction as nimble fingers stripped her. As promised, she didn¡¯t feel the chill for long, her body quickly warming. ¡°Are you going to change me like Lou?¡±

    ¡°Is that what you want?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t say no to more strength and¡­the other stuff.¡± She reflexively lashed out with a fist as the elf¡¯s chuckles sounded too close to Lou¡¯s. She opened her mouth to apologize but a hiss came out instead as sharp teeth nipped the back of her neck. ¡°Ow! Did you bite me?!¡±

    ¡°I always bite.¡±

    ¡°That¡­¡± She trailed off as she felt the discomfort of Kierra¡¯s mana entering her body. ¡°Wait, that¡¯s it? Is that¡­are we already starting?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but it will take time. You will grow stronger. Then we will fight so you may learn your new strength. Again and again, until you are wrestling wyverns.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°Depends. Through my efforts alone, years.¡±

    ¡°Years?¡± Alana would have leapt from her seat if Kierra¡¯s didn¡¯t hold her still. ¡°Lou changed in months!¡±

    ¡°Do you see the enormity of your task? Lou is special. Unrivaled. A pure affinity breaks many of the expectations of this kingdom. Lou spits on those expectations¡¯ shattered remains with utter disdain. Mm, she also had help from the pet. Things would go faster with them.¡±

    ¡°¡­I think I should talk to Lou about that. Those creatures¡­I don¡¯t trust them.¡±

    ¡°As is right. Now, relax and let me do my work.¡±

    Alana shivered as soft lips kissed her neck. ¡°T-that doesn¡¯t have anything to do with this, does it?¡±

    ¡°Mm, but I must entertain myself somehow.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ahh~¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-19

    ¡°Finally, it¡¯s done.¡±

    Last night might not have gone according to plan but there¡¯s no time to dwell on it. I have two elementals to contract in less than two weeks. There¡¯re also the other mundane preparations to be made when traveling any significant distance and the preparations for waging war.

    I thoroughly expect fallout from our ¡°rescue¡± but until someone is trying to break down the door, I¡¯m not going to bother with it. If I¡¯m lucky, the investigation will drag on and I¡¯ll be gone before they can muster the courage to move against me.

    In the meantime, the circle to summon the shuba is complete. The drawing of the Dark Lord has been carved and filled with ink mixed with shards of bone. Placed around the edge of the circle are daggers and knives, some chipped, some broken, some polished to a shine.

    The shuba feed off negative energy. The most abundant source of which are the bad thoughts of sapient creatures but, according to the record of the summoner specializing in their realm, they are also attracted to certain places and objects. Places or things involved in tragedies, the more violent the better.

    The axe of an executioner. The whip of a particularly nasty sadist. The throne of a tyrant.

    None of those things are easy to get my hands on but there are plenty of weapons stained with the blood of men and monsters circulating about. I don¡¯t have a means of gauging how much negative energy is in or attached to them but having them around should be enough to make the circle that much more enticing.

    Hmph. The writer of the record may have claimed that all that is needed is an image of the Dark Lord but I have my pride as a Tome. I once explained to Kierra that contracting an elemental is the same as proposing to a woman and the circle is a summoner¡¯s ring. Just because the shuba are too simple to have good taste doesn¡¯t mean I have the bad taste to propose with trash.

    With the circle complete, it¡¯s time to retrieve my audience. Not necessary for the summoning but, as it isn¡¯t harmful, I have no problem indulging Kierra¡¯s interest and it¡¯s a good chance to introduce Alana to the art.

    Getting to my feet, I take a moment to stretch. Crawling on my hands and knees for hours isn¡¯t enough to make this body hurt but the motions still feel good.

    My ears take me to the backyard. On the grass before the trees that mark the boundary of Kierra¡¯s garden are Alana and Kierra, one sprawled on the ground while the other stands over her with an amused smile.

    Needless to say, Alana is the one on her back, sweating profusely despite the chill and in a general state of disarray. Ah, brings back memories. After we married, that elf had me on my back all the time, in more ways than one.

    Seeing her this way warms my heart. It means Alana is taking her quest for strength seriously, seriously enough to throw aside her reservations about cheating her way to the top. It also means Kierra accepts her. She¡¯s pulling her along so she doesn¡¯t get left behind.

    ¡°Am I interrupting?¡± I ask on approach.

    Kierra isn¡¯t surprised, likely having heard me while I was still in the house, but Alana¡¯s eyes flick to me in surprise. Her lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile but she suppresses it. Does she not want to look too eager to see me? Really, this girl is too cute.

    ¡°Mm, no. She is¡­taking a break.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it like that when we¡¯ve been fighting for an hour,¡± my surly saint grumbles. ¡°Don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m brawling with you. I use a sword.¡±

    ¡°You should know how hard you can swing your fist before how hard you can swing a blade. And it is always prudent to know how to brawl. A sword can be taken from you. You will always have your fists.¡±

    ¡°Those can be taken from you too.¡±

    ¡°If they are, you will not be wielding a sword either, hm?¡±

    I interrupt them with a laugh. I offer Alana a hand and pull her to her feet, plucking a few strands of grass from her hair. ¡°The circle is finished.¡± I grin at their interest. ¡°You both wanted to watch. Let¡¯s discuss a few details and then we can start the show.¡±

    Kierra hums as she walks past us. I loop my arm through Alana¡¯s and pull her towards the house. I ignore her attempts to pull away as I seat us on the couch.

    ¡°I¡¯ll dirty the furniture,¡± she mutters.

    ¡°We have competent servants.¡± Speaking of, Geneva enters the room with a tea tray. I wave her off when she tries to serve me. Nervous flutters in my gut put me off drinking anything. It¡¯s time to share another secret. I know it¡¯s nothing bad, and there¡¯s no reason for Alana to take it badly, but there¡¯s no telling how someone will react to having their world turned upside down. My secret is certainly that momentous.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    I clear my throat to draw their attention once they¡¯ve made themselves comfortable. ¡°So, I¡¯ve explained how summoning works.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Perhaps sensing something in my words, Alana puts down her cup and turns toward me. ¡°You call on a creature using the circle, you discuss terms, and if both sides like what they hear, they take a portion of your mana to stay here and serve you.¡±

    What an optimistic view of contracts. Complete subservience, what I have with Geneva and Bell, is incredibly rare. Usually, the elemental is contracted to do a job and cannot be commanded outside of such. ¡°Essentially. If you remember, I told you that summoners can only contract elementals they share an affinity with. Don¡¯t ask me why, I¡¯m no master who¡¯s dedicated their life to studying mana and the bond formed between a summoner and their elemental.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    I clear my throat, fighting back a wave of nerves. ¡°Anyway, I sat you down to share another secret with you. Or elaborate on one. It¡¯s necessary because the summoning is going to raise questions I know you are too smart not to ask.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she says dryly. ¡°Get on with it, Lou. Whatever it is, I doubt it¡¯s going to top you not being human.¡±

    That does calm me some. ¡°I told you that something happened to me when I was kidnapped. Everyone knows I was taken by a crazy caster. What I don¡¯t spread around is that said crazy caster wanted me for a summoning.¡±

    ¡°What? He wanted you to summon something for him?¡±

    As if. ¡°No. He wanted to use my blood for his circle.¡± She sucks in a sharp breath, body tensing as she readies to strike at a danger long past. Saints, I love her.

    I place a hand on her thigh and squeeze, holding her gaze until she relaxes. ¡°It was barbaric and amateurish but he was successful¡­to some extent.¡± I chuckle. ¡°Bastard summoned something really powerful.¡±

    ¡°When you say powerful¡­¡±

    ¡°I mean a creature that has, at the very least, a celestial affinity and a coefficient of five thousand.¡±

    She pauses, mouth gaping. Perfectly understandable. The celestial affinity is impressive enough on its own but five thousand units of mana? Five hundred is the power of masters, the best of humanity. A being with a coefficient ten times that at minimum? Terrifyingly impressive.

    ¡°This being took an interest in me while I was dying. You know elementals can exist in this realm for a few moments before being yanked back to their homes. He, using that because of personal preference as it doesn¡¯t resemble a person in any way, saved me by, at my best guess, giving me part of himself. Which included six more affinities, for a total of seven.¡±

    Alana continues to stare at me. I wait patiently for her to come to grips with the multiple revelations I¡¯ve dumped in her lap. On the opposite couch, Kierra sips her tea quietly, doing a believable impersonation of air.

    ¡°Horseshit,¡± she finally says.

    I nod, not surprised. I¡¯d react the same way if someone told me they had seven affinities. Probably laugh in their face. Says a lot about her trust in me that her eyes are unsure, weighing her knowledge that I wouldn¡¯t lie about something like this against the sheer impossibility of my claim.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look away,¡± I tell her as I hold out a hand. I haven¡¯t practiced much besides fire, water, and wind but I have practiced basic spells in every affinity I have. Not for this moment exactly, but for moments like it, when I need to prove my claim. Also because it feels amazing being able to use seven affinities.

    ¡°Fire, as you know.¡± A small spark of fire flashes over my palm.

    ¡°Now, water.¡± A small bead of liquid, smaller than a button, appears in the same place as the fire, hovering long enough for Alana¡¯s wide eyes to take it in before I drop my spell and it splashes against my palm. I call for Bell as I wipe my damp hand on my pants.

    There is a loud scrabbling of claws on wood as Bell speeds toward me, sliding to a halt beside the couch. ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel like getting up and going to the backyard just to grab a bit of stone. Conjure me up some.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± [As you wish, Master Lou.] All four eyes glow as loose dirt swirls around her. The earth comes together, pressing tightly until it forms a bland, brown stone that falls at her feet.

    ¡°This is an order. Don¡¯t use any magic on that rock until I¡¯m done with my demonstration.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Then, earth affinity.¡± I raise the rock off the ground, hold it in place long enough to check Alana is seeing it and has convinced herself that no, it is not an elaborate trick, before setting it down.

    ¡°Wind affinity.¡± Her hand smacks her forehead as a light breeze lifts her bangs.

    ¡°Saints blessed asses, Lou.¡± Her lips quiver as she searches for words. ¡°All four basic affinities. That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Not that impressive. There¡¯s already a jester running around with that same level of talent. I¡¯m one of a kind.¡± I hold out my palm to Bell. Cut me.

    The imp is quick to oblige, slicing into my hand deeply with a claw. Blood flows liberally. Good, it¡¯s deep. Otherwise, there¡¯d be no point to this.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    I gently smack away Alana¡¯s reaching hand. ¡°It¡¯s fine. This is the simplest way to show you. Physical.¡± What I use is a spell that uses mana to speed up a body¡¯s natural recovery. With my already impressive regeneration, the cut is closed in moments. I hold my hand out to Bell, repressing a giggle as the imp¡¯s slightly rough tongue licks up the blood.

    Once it¡¯s clean, I show it to Alana, sans cut. ¡°She didn¡¯t heal it.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Alana snaps. ¡°What¡¯d be the point?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Mental.¡± She flinches from the incredibly weak and formless thought I project to her.

    ¡°Last but far from least.¡± A globe of golden light appears in my hand. ¡°Light.¡±

    That makes her jump to her feet. A hand reaches out but pauses before touching the spell, as she likely remembers there¡¯s nothing to grab. ¡°This¡­is it real.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s real. All of it.¡±

    She stares at it, seemingly mesmerized. She¡¯s still staring as she slowly reclaims her seat. Then she buries her face in her hands and lets out a muffled scream.

    ¡°Um¡­¡±

    She lets out a series of inarticulate grunts. I nod and fix myself a cup of tea, leaving her to process. It¡¯s a lot to take in.

    In all recorded history, there¡¯s never been anyone with seven affinities. Not even in the most outlandish songs or stories. The most a legendary hero featured in such might have are two greater affinities and a basic affinity or all the basic affinities. Thinking about it, that¡¯s likely why Mr. Talented is so annoying. Probably think he¡¯s meant to be one of those fictitious heroes, the idiot.

    The point is that even the greatest storyteller¡¯s imagination couldn¡¯t conjure up someone with my talent. Not even the greatest of legends. Seven affinities are so removed from the human range of talent, it''s as inhuman as my oozey self.

    The potential I possess is immeasurable. If I had to compare myself to any creature, only the magical talent of dragons and their pure affinities would suffice.

 ARC 6-Winter War-20

    ¡°This is unbelievable.¡±

    I glance over at Alana as she comes out from behind her hands, sitting up straight. Her clear blue eyes turn to me and I¡¯m glad to see there is nothing worrisome in her gaze. No fear, no disbelief, and no dangerous awe.

    ¡°It¡¯s ridiculous¡­but it¡¯s also right in front of me so there¡¯s no point in denying it.¡± She sighs. ¡°This is what you meant when you said you are more talented than anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Eh. There¡¯s another secret connected to that.¡±

    I chuckle at her exasperation. ¡°There¡¯s more?¡±

    ¡°A little thing. Nothing big. It can wait for another day.¡±

    Her eyes narrow. For a moment, I think she¡¯s going to demand the answer. If she does, I¡¯ll answer. Don¡¯t want her to think I don¡¯t trust her. But she doesn¡¯t. Instead, she drops her head on the back of the couch. ¡°Fine. This summoning. I suppose the creature you want to summon is obviously not fire aligned.¡±

    ¡°Light, actually.¡± Which surprised me. With their feeding habits, I would have guessed mental. It¡¯s also surprising that a light caster would be a summoner. Suppose the affinity wasn¡¯t as venerated then as it is now.

    ¡°Ah. That¡¯s how you plan on getting me a teacher. You want to summon one.¡±

    ¡°For both of us. I have to train too.¡±

    ¡°Yes. You have to train seven affinities.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°A caster with seven affinities. A master with seven affinities. Saints.¡±

    ¡°Aw. You¡¯ve got a lot of faith in me.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t, it¡¯d be insulting to whatever creature gave you that power.¡±

    ¡°I think of him as a second father.¡±

    She gives me a look before turning to Kierra. ¡°Suppose this is why you had to stop yourself from laughing.¡±

    Eh?

    My wife finally joins the conversation. ¡°It is funny, but you must not give up. I am looking forward to seeing you conquer the impossible.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Don¡¯t take a knight of Victory lightly. We¡¯ve been throwing ourselves against the impossible for centuries.¡±

    I¡­am sure I am missing something but Alana seems to be taking everything well, so I¡¯ll let it go. I drain the rest of my tea and set the cup down. ¡°Now that that¡¯s straightened out, are you ready for your first summoning?¡±

    While Alana has taken the news of my affinities well, she isn¡¯t as unaffected as she would like me to believe. She is distracted as we make our way to the spare bedroom I¡¯m using as a summoning room, sneaking glances at my back when she thinks I¡¯m not paying attention. It doesn¡¯t appear to be anything bad so I leave her to her thoughts.

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    Two chairs have been placed against the back wall for my wives, one pending. The succubi wait outside, with strict instructions not to enter or interfere unless there is a threat to one of our lives. The residents of Burning Earth get around. I don¡¯t know what their reputations are like throughout the realms but, knowing their nature, I doubt it¡¯s good. Last thing I need is for Geneva to ruin this by simply being in the room.

    ¡°So, what happens now?¡± Alana asks once they¡¯re seated.

    ¡°Now, I am going to power the circle and ask something to meet with me.¡±

    ¡°¡­that¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°Mm, that¡¯s it.¡±

    Alana crosses her arms and scowls. ¡°But you¡¯re just pushing your mana into a drawing. How does that open a path between realms and allow something to step through?¡±

    ¡°Hey, Alana. How come the sun shines just enough to grow our crops and keep us warm but not enough to kill us?¡±

    ¡°What¡­I don¡¯t know. And what does something that random have to do with this?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why the rules of summoning are what they are either or exactly how they work but that doesn¡¯t stop me understanding them and using them to my advantage. If I had to guess, there is some super all-powerful elemental that is called the Guardian of Dimensions that is facilitating all of this. Do I know that for sure? Do I know how? Do I know why? Nope. Doesn¡¯t matter. All I know and need to know is that if I pour some mana in that circle and call on a creature, it steps through.¡±

    ¡°Using things you don¡¯t understand is dangerous. Or have you already forgotten last night?¡±

    I wince. That hit below the belt.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she mumbles, realizing such herself.

    ¡°No. You aren¡¯t wrong and I understand your hesitance, but this isn¡¯t the same thing. Summoning has been done for centuries. It¡¯s been tried and tested by geniuses and idiots. The rules are foolproof. Everything will be fine.¡±

    My confidence seems to reassure her as her expression eases and she settles into her seat. I check on Kierra but she¡¯s perfectly fine, her eyes telling me to get started already. Satisfied, I turn to my circle.

    Kneeling at the edge of the circle, I put a finger in the ink and push my mana into it, charging the boundary. A shuba has a coefficient of one or lower. The amount of mana I¡¯d need to hold it is so minuscule, I¡¯d need a spell to use that exact amount. Instead, I throw a few units into it casually. The ink gains a faint luminance. Not even enough to make the circle glow with power.

    As I get to my feet, I can feel it. Though there is nothing but air in front of me, I can feel something on the opposite side of it. A presence that can feel me as I feel it. The last time I did this, I was nothing but nerves. There¡¯s a hint of those but my heart is thumping with excitement. ¡°Will you speak with me?¡±

    An orb of darkness appears over the circle. It flows and dips, looking very much as if it is comprised of the ink that fills my circle as it expands, larger and larger until it is twice the size of my head. Then it flattens into a disk, tall enough for a child to walk through, hovering several inches off the ground.

    A small shape comes through. It¡¯s¡­different. Incorporeal beings are always a bit strange, as they don¡¯t need to be concerned about functioning bodies. The shuba is gray and transparent like smoke. Small enough to fit in my palm. It reminds me a little of a cloth thrown over a lamp, narrower at the top and fluttering at the bottom. In the middle of its upper half is a golden circle that makes me think of an eye though I can¡¯t imagine how it sees.

    ¡°Shuba,¡± the creature says in a pleasant whisper.

    I suck in a sharp breath as a pressure fills the room, so strong the air itself seems to become tangible as it weighs on my shoulders. From the corner of my eye, I see Kierra reach for a startled Alana, holding her still. That¡¯s not good. I can¡¯t bring her to more summonings if she can¡¯t keep her cool. Ah, well. She¡¯s a newbie. She¡¯ll grow out of it.

    Behind the shuba, in the middle of the black disk connecting this realm to another, a golden reptilian eye slowly opens, focusing on me. Shubas are creatures with low intelligence. Too low to understand and form contracts with a summoner.

    No, it is their lord that does the negotiating. I haven¡¯t invited that creature to this realm, as I¡¯m not insane, so it cannot enter this realm or use its magic. It¡¯s incredible that its mere attention is enough to affect us. But now that I have its attention, the fun can begin.

 ARC 6-Winter War-21

    ¡°A pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡± I dip my head in a shallow bow. ¡°I am Lourianne. May I have a name to address you by?¡±

    ¡°Shuba.¡± The shuba pauses, freezing in place. After a moment, its lower body continues to flutter. ¡°Shuba¡­regum."

    So, Dark Lord. It communicates through the shubas but its medium isn¡¯t the best conversationalist. Seems I¡¯ll have to keep things simple. ¡°I have called upon you as I wish to form a contract. If this is agreeable to you, please say shuba.¡±

    ¡°Shuba.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. Then, I will start by telling you what I have to offer.¡± Feeling a bit of showmanship, I throw out my arms. ¡°I know you have knowledge of this realm. There are many creatures for your host to feed on and I shall allow them to do so generously.¡±

    The pressure in the room intensifies but there is something else to it. A distinct aura of satisfaction and excitement. In training the mental affinity, I learned that all creatures give off thought projections that mental casters are sensitive too. The higher the intelligence of the creature, the stronger these thought projections. They can also be amplified through magic. Perhaps that is the ¡°pressure¡± I¡¯m feeling?

    ¡°No food is free. I will list my conditions. If you agree to them, please say shuba.¡±

    ¡°Shuba.¡±

    This is an interesting summoning. With the lack of communication, I can¡¯t properly question the creature. I could bring Geneva in here but¡­the problem is this Dark Lord is undoubtedly powerful. It is the sole ruler of an entire realm. Good odds it¡¯s stronger than my circle seven don. I''m not sure how she will fare in a game of wits. I don¡¯t know which would be worse, Geneva¡¯s pride that she keeps well-hidden being injured or the Dark Lord taking offense.

    That leaves me taking shots in the dark. The record is thoroughly unhelpful here, as the summoner didn¡¯t bother to investigate the realm, content to simply use the shubas for his ends. I have no idea what the shubas can provide in return for a realm full of food. It¡¯s definitely worth more than having the weak creatures under my control.

    ¡°The first condition is that every shuba in this realm will abide by my will.¡± My brows furrow as the pressure in the room shifts. I distinctively feel the Dark Lord¡¯s dissatisfaction. ¡°I¡¯m willing to let you eat in my house but you won¡¯t run rampant. Either I am in control or this doesn¡¯t happen.¡± There is a pause, a kind of expectant silence where I can tell the Dark Lord is thinking. Then a shift. A feeling of subservience. No, that¡¯s not quite it. Ugh. Maybe I should get Geneva in here, regardless of the possible consequences.

    Hm. Yes, it¡¯s not subservience, but allegiance. I believe the Dark Lord wants me to become its subordinate if I want the power to command the shubas. ¡°No.¡±

    Now reluctance. Or, perhaps struggle. I believe it¡¯s saying it¡¯s impossible to command the shubas without being a member of the host. I don¡¯t believe that for a moment. Even the previous summoner was able to command the shubas without swearing allegiance to the Dark Lord. Or, maybe not? It wasn¡¯t something one would be eager to place in a record for any to read, no matter the unspoken expectation for summoners to bare all their secrets for their descendants.

    The Dark Lord is not happy with me. The air practically crackles with the powerful creature¡¯s displeasure. Still, I hold my ground. The shubas are convenient but they are hardly my only option. Saints, conquering a piece of the Bleak Peaks alone would be enough to elevate the kingdom¡¯s opinion of summoners and the crown does a fine enough job of ruining its reputation by itself. This is a vanity project, my personal insult to the king who thought it was a good idea to sanction the whole of the summoning community without talking to us. I will make no sacrifices to make this happen.

    Again, if the Dark Lord wants to eat at my dinner table, it and its host will be perfect guests.

    Our wills clash, the powerful being¡¯s displeasure weighing down the room like a physical thing. Alana is suffering but she soldiers through, gritting her teeth while Kierra keeps a sharp eye on her, ready for the first sign of genuine harm. I stare the golden eye down without flinching.

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    Sure, I didn¡¯t expect the Dark Lord to be this terrifying but there is something more powerful behind me; the rules of summoning. I believe in them without doubt.

    Just like the most fanatic believers in the saints who believe they can do what they think is right and humanity¡¯s heroes will descend from a land of eternal peace and prosperity to defend them should any disagree, I have unshakable confidence that the rules of the art will keep the Dark Lord contained to its realm and it cannot harm me. It can posture all it likes but since it can¡¯t do anything and I need nothing from it, I¡¯m unmoved.

    Finally, the harsh aura relents. What replaces it is mild acceptance, tinged with bitterness. I grin, triumphant. ¡°Good. That is simply the rule of engagement. Now, there is the matter of payment.¡±

    Once again, the air becomes tense. I sense anticipation and anger, like an animal waiting for an approaching stranger to make the wrong move so they can lash out. ¡°I have read the methods of harvesting negative energy from a previous summoner. Once the first shuba¡­bursts, they will gather and I will send them back through to your realm.¡±

    Distinct approval. ¡°At that time, you will offer me a treasure of your realm in payment. I warn you, do not attempt to trick me as I am wise to the ways of elementals. Your payment will decide if our cooperation continues. Please me, and I will continue to see you fed for a long time. Offer me trash and those scraps will be all you get.¡±

    If I contract a shuba, I get nothing but another headache if I don¡¯t watch it carefully while the Dark Lord reaps the benefits. Why shouldn¡¯t I get compensated? The summoner whose record I am working from must have become a part of the Dark Lord¡¯s host as payment, whatever that entails, but that is the last thing I want.

    Caution. Hesitant approval. Curiosity. Hm. Do you want to know what I want? ¡°Natural bounties. Affinity stones. Other materials that hold mana well. Powerful weapons.¡± I sigh dramatically. ¡°I suppose precious metals and jewels may suffice if provided in large enough quantities. If you catch me on a good day.¡±

    Precious metals and gems are rather common, if one looks at it a certain way. There is plenty of gold in the world. It only seems scarce because everyone wants as much of it as they can get their hands on. In the world of magic, gold and gems have little use, except as decorations and ingredients for the odd summoning. However, money is always good to have.

    The Dark Lord agrees to my terms from the way the air loses its intensity. Behind me, Alana takes a deep breath.

    ¡°Then it is time to make the contract. I will allow the shuba to enter this realm and allow it to feed under my discretion. In return, the shuba will obey my will in all things. My orders will be followed without question or delay and not just the word of the order, but also the spirit of it. Swear upon these terms to the Guardian of Dimensions.¡±

    ¡°¡­shuba shuba.¡±

    ¡°To seal our contract, I offer you my mana.¡± The shuba slowly floats toward the edge of the circle. A ghostly limb grows from its side and extends into the ink. After a moment it retracts and floats over the boundary of the circle.

    Mm, guess that¡¯s that. The contract wouldn¡¯t have been formed unless the shuba both understood and consented to my conditions under threat of the Guardian.

    Inside the circle, the golden reptilian eye squints in pleasure as the dark portal to another realm retracts. My lips twitch as the Dark Lord¡¯s attention intensifies. It feels as if the being isn¡¯t merely looking at me but is trying to peer inside me. Thoroughly uncomfortable but it only lasts for the moments it takes for the portal to close, leaving behind empty air.

    ¡°Come here,¡± I say to the bobbing incorporeal elemental. It ignores me, moving toward Kierra and Alana, the only two sapients. Ah. So that¡¯s the Dark Lord¡¯s game. Who cares if the creature is meant to obey me if I can¡¯t communicate with it? Tricky. Another good reason to leave Geneva outside. It has no idea as to my resources. Come here.

    The door opens and Geneva walks in, tail swishing. ¡°Congratulations on a successful contract, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. Do you speak shuba?¡±

    ¡°I can communicate with the creature, yes. But the orders will be mine, not yours, even if I invoke your name.¡±

    ¡°Obviously. You¡¯re going to teach me a spell to do it myself. In the meantime, I want you to cast a spell that will translate my spoken words into a command it recognizes.¡±

    ¡°Ah. You think that if you can establish a pattern where it recognizes my mental order as a translation of your words, it will have no choice but to recognize such as your orders. Hopefully it has the intelligence to make such a connection.¡±

    One way to find out. Ready? One, two. ¡°Come here.¡±

    The shuba pauses. Then it turns around and bobs toward me, stopping in front of my chest, the golden circle on its face tilted in the impression it¡¯s meeting my eyes. ¡°Shuba.¡±

    I reach out, fully expecting my hand to phase through. To my surprise, the shuba solidifies and my hand makes contact. I give it a few pats.

    It feels like¡­soft glass? Incredibly, unnaturally smooth for a living thing, but also pliant. Strange. Pleasant, though. I grin as I pet my new elemental. One summoning down, one to go.

 ARC 6-Winter War-22

    ¡°So, that¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± I tell Alana as she pokes the pliant shuba, marveling at the creature I¡¯ve plucked from another realm to serve my whims. ¡°Hashing out the contract is usually the easiest part of a summoning. Powerful creatures always want power so I never doubted I¡¯d have a problem negotiating with the Dark Lord.¡± Though who knows what the thing is going to deliver as payment.

    ¡°The hard part is the preparation. Finding the perfect elemental that suits your purposes, building the perfect circle, sourcing the ingredients. Even then, contracting the elemental means little to nothing. They are, in the least demeaning way to possibly mean this, living tools. They are only as effective as the summoner behind them. Compared to wrangling a creature that could be actively plotting your demise, enduring a little pressure is nothing.¡±

    Alana frowns, no doubt remembering how the attention of the Dark Lord would have sent her crashing to the ground if not for the support of my wife. Her hand leaves the shuba¡¯s head, or what I think is its head. ¡°Is this thing dangerous?¡±

    ¡°The shuba is incredibly simple. While their presence can have harmful effects over a long period of exposure, and by long I mean decades for a single one, it is not inherently evil or even aggressive. It¡¯s, hm. Something like the leeches in the southern wetlands. They suck the blood from their victims but not out of a desire to harm them. It is simply instinct, their nature.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t say the same for that Dark Lord.¡± Her frown deepens. ¡°I felt that thing and there is nothing simple about it. I don¡¯t like the fact that you¡¯re dealing with it.¡±

    Grinning, I step toward her, arms extended. She ignores my attempts to hug her but she doesn¡¯t swat away my limbs as they close around her waist. ¡°Aw, are you worried for me? Thank you, sweetie, but I¡¯ll be fine. If it¡¯s not invited, it can¡¯t cross over.¡±

    ¡°You said that you summon things with the images in the circle. You literally drew the thing.¡±

    ¡°I had to. The shuba¡¯s very existence for living is the Dark Lord. According to the record, it is impossible to reach them without referencing their master in some way and I don¡¯t have time to research it. Having the Dark Lord¡¯s image in my circle doesn¡¯t give it the right to pass through.

    ¡°Summoning is an art of intention. The more clear of an idea I have of what I¡¯m summoning, the less creatures can try and weasel their way in. I knew exactly what I was summoning. More importantly, I sure as saints didn¡¯t want that giant thing to drop so much as an eyelash in this realm. Therefore, it can¡¯t cross through my circle. It¡¯s as simple as that.¡±

    ¡°All because of this Guardian of Dimensions.¡± Alana shakes her head. ¡°This is strange. What is this Guardian? Why is it helping summoners? Saints, how did summoners come across summoning in the first place? I doubt someone stumbled on it by chance.¡±

    I grin. ¡°Actually, the most popular opinion is that it was discovered entirely by chance. The prevalent theory within the Tome family is that the first summoner was an artist. You know how some painters sign their work with mana, hm? Which is completely pointless unless the paints can retain the mana but I digress.

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    ¡°We think some poor bastard, maybe a prophet with no idea of their affinity, dreamed of ¡®imagined¡¯ realms. They drew these realms, and the creatures in them, and signed their work with their mana. While wishing to meet the object of their desire, they unintentionally created the first summoning circle. Then, whatever elemental they summoned taught this artist. It told them about summoning and all they could accomplish by reaching out to the other realms. Probably offered them a crap load of power to convince them.

    ¡°Power draws followers like bees to flowers so in no time, they must have had plenty of people begging to know their secret. Then, no doubt under the request of the elemental they contracted, they spread the knowledge of summoning, permanently opening this realm to the elementals eager for prey. Of course, this is only a theory. There are dozens of others. Like¡ª¡±

    ¡°Eh-hem.¡± I pause, blinking as I take in Alana¡¯s glazed but attentive expression and Kierra¡¯s amused smile as she pokes the shuba. My wife raises a brow. ¡°Perhaps we can have this discussion over a good meal and drink? We must celebrate your success.¡±

    Ah, got a bit carried away. I flash Alana a sheepish smile. ¡°Yeah, we shouldn¡¯t stand around here all night.¡± I turn to the shuba. ¡°Wait in the next room.¡±

    ¡°Shuba.¡± Kierra¡¯s hand phases through the shuba¡¯s body as it floats away, phasing through the wall into the next room. It¡¯s empty and out of the way so I shouldn¡¯t have to worry about anyone having bad dreams because of its effect on sapient creatures.

    ¡°I will prepare the meal,¡± Geneva says, exiting the room before us. Knowing she¡¯ll reject me if I ask her despite enjoying skinship as much as me, I don¡¯t bother asking as I grab Alana¡¯s hand and lead her out of the room. Like I thought, she doesn¡¯t say anything, though she pointedly averts her gaze. So I don¡¯t see her embarrassment, probably.

    ¡°The elemental you want to teach us light magic. Is it going to be like that?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be a terrible idea. For a teacher, you want something that¡¯s friendly. Or can at least be pleasant, like the succubi. Though since this will also be your teacher, I¡¯m aiming for a creature that historically has a good nature. And you¡¯ll also be there to confirm you get along.¡±

    ¡°Then, if I don¡¯t like what you pick¡ª¡±

    ¡°The contract doesn¡¯t happen. These things are permanent. The only known method to cut the bond between a summoner and an elemental is the death of either party. There is no room for doubt.¡±

    I sigh. ¡°I would like to have this settled before we head out, as it would be nice to have extra hands in the north and the trip could give you a chance to bond, but there¡¯s no rush. We¡¯ve got time. This is someone you will potentially know for a very, very long time. You best like them.¡±

    She hangs her head in thought and I leave her to it, guiding her to the dining room. I help her sit before taking my own seat.

    Kierra forgoes a chair in favor of my lap, throwing her legs over my own while wrapping an arm around my neck. A finger trails up from my navel to stroke my chin before drawing me into a kiss.

    ¡°Continue your talk,¡± she whispers before ducking her head. I hum in pleasure as her lips brush against my neck, eyes moving to a blushing Alana. ¡°Did you, hah, want to ask me anything else?¡±

    She tears her gaze from Kierra, clearing her throat. ¡°Ah, yeah. What is our teacher going to be?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a¡­¡± I bite my lip as a hand slips under my shirt. ¡°¡­surprise.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to tell me anything? Like why you want so many people there?¡±

    ¡°Remember I said, ah, said it¡¯s important to find a being whose ideas and beliefs align with ours? For me, someone who admires beauty, good drink, and freedom. For you, someone who puts¡­hah, s-strong values on bonds and detests injustice. Beautiful w-women surrounding me will make the contract negotiations easier.¡±

    ¡°You want another pervert around,¡± she mutters, eyes following the hand that pushes into my pants.

    It takes a moment to answer as Kierra wastes no time entering me with two fingers, the sensations consuming all my attention. ¡°Someone¡­who can¡­ahh, appreciate a¡­pervert, more like.¡±

    ¡°You can still speak.¡± Kierra hums as she crawls off my lap, pushing aside my legs as she settles between them. ¡°I must work harder.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-23

    ¡°¡­what do you mean someone who can appreciate a pervert?¡±

    I pant, delaying my answer as I watch Kierra tug my pants down to my ankles. I look away as she kisses up my leg, preparing myself for when she reaches her goal as I turn to Alana. ¡°Someone like you.¡±

    ¡°What?! What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°You, mm, appreciate me, don¡¯t you? You like watching.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°I can see you squirming.¡± She freezes, her thighs that were rubbing together stopping. I snicker but am cut off by a moan as Kierra nips a particularly sensitive part of my thigh, close enough to her eventual destination I can feel her breath on my lower lips. ¡°That is the, hah, type of being I want. Someone who appreciates sexuality and will be interested by my relationships.¡±

    ¡°So, you don¡¯t want to sleep with them?¡±

    My eyes flutter as Kierra¡¯s lips finally make it to the source of my heat. Short, hot breaths escape my parted lips as I struggle to form words but it¡¯s no use. After her tongue pushes past my folds, the most I can get out is gibbering nonsense.

    My hands move to her hair, one twisting in her silky locks while the other strokes one of her long ears. I buck against her eager mouth as she hums in approval. Saints, she¡¯s so good at this. I struggle to hold out, knowing Alana is watching, but it¡¯s no use. The pleasure mounts rapidly as Kierra senses weakness and intensifies her efforts.

    Then there¡¯s a heavy knocking on the front door.

    I groan as Kierra pauses, taken by surprise. Alana, without our strong hearing, is unaware of the pending interruption and is still watching us with hot eyes, a hand hovering over her crotch. She is still like that when Earl appears in the doorway and lets out an adorable squeak when he speaks.

    ¡°My lady, a Robert Quintana requests to see you.¡±

    ¡­who?

    ¡°Are you seriously pretending you don¡¯t know who that is?¡± In an effort to combat her embarrassment, her blushing face twists into a scowl. ¡°This is ridiculous.¡±

    Your disbelief isn¡¯t helping me remember.

    She sighs deeply. ¡°Mr. Talented.¡±

    Oh! What is a hero doing on my doorstep? Anyway, I don¡¯t care if it was a beautiful woman wrapped in silk and stuffed in a box as a present, this is the worst time for an interruption. ¡°Tell him¡ª¡±

    ¡°Show him in.¡±

    I look down at my grinning wife. Oh, that¡¯s her bloodthirsty smile, the one that tells me to steel my heart as she is about to do something trying. As Earl leaves the room, following her words after not receiving a contradictory order from me, Kierra pulls my chair forward, concealing herself under the table.

    Alana pauses in straightening her appearance, meeting my slightly panicked gaze with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, realizing what my wife is planning. I shiver as I feel her tongue tease my lower lips but clench my jaw, refusing to react. Alana purses her lips, no doubt also trying to control her reaction to my precarious situation.

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    Like that, Mr. Talented enters the room. He looks different from the qualifiers. Some messy stubble has managed to mature his boyish looks some and his eyes, which I always imagine full of an unreasonable grudge directed at myself, are instead cool. Combined with the thin line of his lips, they speak to a stern determination.

    Though that¡¯s all I get to see of him as my wife¡¯s tongue entering me has me bowing my head to hide my reaction. It¡¯s a miracle that I don¡¯t make any sound. Alana similarly struggles beside me, letting out a long, shaky breath.

    ¡°Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Lady Tome,¡± the future hero says with strained courtesy.

    Rallying my strength, I raise my head with a clenched jaw. Saints, I need to get him out of here. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°¡­may I have a seat?¡±

    No, you may not! But before I can offer my refusal, I have to bite my lip to cover a moan.

    ¡°Please do.¡±

    I whip my head to Alana after her invitation. Her averted eyes speak to her guilt but her lips are quirked in a smile. She¡­is she trying to prolong this?

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while. How have you been, Quin?¡±

    She is! Who is this devious woman and what has she done with my future saint?

    There¡¯s a smile in the young man¡¯s voice when he answers. ¡°It¡¯s been a busy few weeks. I¡¯m sure you know there are many acolytes who are preparing to march north to participate in the next campaign through the Bleak Peaks.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Victory has pushed farther than ever with the assistance of third parties. I have to admit, I¡¯m surprised you will be attending. I would think someone with your abilities would have plenty of resources available without risking your life.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the point. My teacher thinks I need more¡­real combat experience.¡±

    ¡°The Bleak Peaks is full of that but I still think it is an extreme option.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, a hero¡¯s journey is never easy. I¡¯ve been preparing by spending time with the guilds, doing jobs with hunters. It¡¯s been good. I¡¯ve learned a lot.¡± He clears his throat. ¡°Which is also why I¡¯m here.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve heard but there was a commotion in Quest last night. Two casters and their trained manabeasts went on a rampage. They tore through the Torchbearers guild hall and killed the guildmaster before slaughtering several more hunters who tried to detain them.

    ¡°Obviously, the hunters are up in arms. The lord of the city has told them to stand down while he investigates but there are several teams of hunters who are determined to bring the perpetrators to their own justice. There are even rumors of bounties going around. Along with a description of the attackers. A dark-skinned woman with dark hair streaked with purple and purple eyes and a green-skinned woman with silver hair.¡±

    There is a pause where he no doubt is looking at me but I can¡¯t raise my head. There is no telling what expression I¡¯m making as I restrain the urge to buck my hips as my climax nears. Kierra¡¯s fingers stroke the head of my gift and I drop my head to the table as the pleasure wracks my body. It¡¯s a miracle that I can still hold in my voice but as the next peak rapidly approaches with my sensitive appendage in her hand, I seriously doubt my ability to do so again.

    ¡°¡­can you not be bothered to look at me?¡±

    My mouth opens wide as a new sensation assaults me. The tongue moving inside me changes, widening and gaining a strange texture. I can feel¡­bumps along it. Little hard nubs that rub my walls, adding a new dimension to the pleasure.

    ¡°You could at least answer me.¡±

    Gathering my strength, I raise my head, finding it hard to concentrate on him with my fluttering eyelids, my eyes instinctively wanting to close. ¡°Y-yeah, that was us.¡±

    ¡°Why? What could possibly motivate you to attack a respected guild and assassinate a master? Are you some embodiment of chaos that pain and death follow in your wake?¡±

    Alana slaps the table sharply. ¡°Enough! If you came here to ask questions, then calm down and listen to the answers.¡±

    ¡°¡­yes. I did come here for answers. Seeing as Lady Tome has no problem slaying those who inconvenience her, I would like to return with an explanation for the hunters so no one else has to die. However, they won¡¯t be satisfied unless there is a good reason. The reputation of the Hall may keep them from kicking down your door but don¡¯t underestimate the bonds between guild hunters. If they aren¡¯t given a satisfactory answer, they¡¯ll hunt you to the ends of the continent.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-24

    ¡°Mm.¡± Mr. Talented¡¯s words fade in and out as my wife¡¯s tongue retreats from my folds and wraps around my protruding gift. Oh saints, those nubs are massaging my sensitive flesh. I can¡¯t¡­can¡¯t¡­

    Under the table, Alana¡¯s hand touches my knee. I blindly flail my hand until I manage to grasp hers. Our fingers lace together as her thumb teases my palm.

    ¡°Allow me to explain,¡± Alana says. ¡°In preparation for the campaign, the hunters sought to negotiate with a talented brewer in the city named Howie. Afraid that they would use force to entangle him in unfavorable terms, Howie asked a friend to provide security for their meeting. That friend was Lou.

    ¡°The meeting did not go favorably for the hunters. Howie refused to work with them, as is his right. However, the hunters did not respect that right. Late in the night, Howie¡¯s barmaid came to Lou, claiming Howie¡¯s bar had been attacked and the brewer kidnapped.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t she go to the city guard?¡±

    I let out a muffled groan as I cum, fucking my wife¡¯s tight throat with small, powerful thrusts of my hips while rhythmically squeezing Alana¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Is that a question deserving of laughter?¡± Mr. Talented sneers.

    ¡°Lou doesn¡¯t think much of the authorities. While I don¡¯t agree, I do admit that time was of the essence. They urged a lack of action while they investigated, as they are doing now. Fearing what the kidnappers would do, Lou decided to take action. She and Kierra searched the city until they found Howie, chained in the basement of the Torchbearers guild hall.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. The Torchbearers have a reputation for being conservative and courteous. I can¡¯t imagine¡ª¡±

    ¡°Whether you can imagine it or not should not blind you to the truth.¡±

    ¡°The truth? Isn¡¯t this just the word of that¡­of Lady Tome? Were you in attendance?¡±

    Alana squeezes my hand as she clicks her tongue but I¡¯m in no condition to follow the conversation. ¡°I wasn¡¯t there but there is the testimony of the barmaid and one of the kidnappers to prove that Howie was indeed taken and Lou returned with the brewer, proving that she found him. With that, it¡¯s more unreasonable to assume she¡¯s lying.¡±

    ¡°¡­fine. That still doesn¡¯t explain the death toll. A guild master and twenty-three other hunters are dead. That doesn¡¯t mention the property damage. Apparently, there was a black creature with her that collapsed several buildings and injured countless hunters. Isn¡¯t that a little extreme?¡±

    ¡°Did those hunters attack the creature?¡±

    ¡°Of course they did! It was a rampaging monster.¡±

    ¡°And of course said monster defended itself. If the victims were civilians who¡¯d dropped to their knees in immediate surrender or tried to reason with it, then the creature would be in the wrong. As they sought to settle their grievances through arms, they can hardly complain about being hurt.¡±

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    ¡°You¡­¡± Robert sighs. ¡°Alright. So I understand this fully, Lady Tome¡¯s friend was kidnapped by hunters. Upset with the guards¡¯ lack of action, Lady Tome decided to find him on her own. This led to the multiple casualties.¡±

    ¡°You understand.¡±

    ¡°Could she not have talked to them?¡±

    ¡°Is it the responsibility of the righteous to converse with villains they are bringing to justice?¡± she sneers. ¡°The advantage goes to the one who deals the first strike. There was no reason to ruin her advantage with conversation when there was clear proof that they were guilty.¡±

    ¡°No reason? What about the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Despite that, she did give them the opportunity to surrender. Before each engagement, she gave her opponents the opportunity to let her pass and take their grievances before the guard. They all refused her, choosing violence. And before you ask, there is no proof. I also doubt the losers are going to admit their injuries are their own fault.¡±

    ¡°I see. You are completely on her side then.¡±

    ¡°Quin, I understand you haven¡¯t had the best experiences with Lou. Quite a bit of that is her own fault, as she isn¡¯t interested in making friends with most people. But as her¡­as someone close to her, I know Lou is not an unfeeling monster. I trust her. And, while the damage is unfortunate, I can¡¯t say I disapprove.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect that kind of attitude from you, Alana.¡±

    ¡°I will act for what I believe is right. Kidnappers get what they deserve. People who stick their nose into someone else¡¯s fight better be willing to suffer the consequences of doing so.¡±

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s hard for me to believe she is anything other than callous when she won¡¯t explain herself. Or look me in the eye. Oi! Do you hear me talking to you?¡±

    ¡°I think you should leave, Quin.¡±

    ¡°Why won¡¯t she look at me? Am I that beneath her notice? Does she think I¡¯m afraid of her?¡±

    ¡°Robert!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of her!¡±

    The clattering of chairs and swearing jostles me from my pleasure induced haze. My bleary eyes narrow and sharpen as I take in Alana slamming Robert against the table, one hand on the back of his neck, the other holding his arm in a painful grip behind his back.

    The young hero doesn¡¯t look good. His gaze is bleary and his pupils are far too wide. Drool leaks from his mouth as he clenches his teeth hard enough it looks like it hurts. Every other moment, he tries to rise but Alana slams him back into the table.

    I try to rise but strong hands hold me in place. My vigilance wavers as my wife continues to suck me dry but I rally my strength to force out some words. ¡°What¡­what¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Alana mutters as she struggles with the struggling young man. ¡°He was agitated coming in and it only got worse and worse until he lost control of himself.¡±

    He looks half mad, practically foaming at the mouth with a heavily flushed face and visibly pounding veins. I know he hates me but that¡¯s not normal. What¡¯s wrong with him?

    [That would be your pheromones, my summoner.]

    What?

    [It is quite common. Females recognize your scent as an enticing mate and it stokes their libidos. Males recognize you as powerful competition and it stokes their aggression. As your pheromones produce a magnified reaction in females, it also produces a magnified response in males. The poor hero appears to be particularly affected.]

    Ah, never expected that. Did you do this on purpose?

    [Of course. It would have taken much more time and mana to develop pheromones with the same potency that don¡¯t affect male members of a species. I didn¡¯t think you would mind, as men are unlikely to be present when your scent is¡­at its strongest.]

    Like when my wife is eagerly sucking me dry like I¡¯m a tall glass of water in the middle of summer.

    ¡°Agh, enough of this!¡±

    My eyes widen as Alana slams Mr. Talented¡¯s head on the table repeatedly until his struggles stop and he slumps in her grip. She drops him carelessly, turning to me as he drops to the floor. Her face is flushed and her pupils are wide but that¡¯s not anger in her gaze.

 ARC 6-Winter War-25

    From the corner of my eye, I notice Bell enter the room, slipping under the table to reach the comatose young man. She grabs him by his shirt and drags him from the room, leaving a thin trail of blood on the floor from the wound on his brow.

    Most of my attention is taken by Alana. She looks ready to leap over the table at me. Instead, she retakes her chair. Her hand reaches out for my own but before I can grasp it, my chair is pushed back.

    I gasp from the shock of air on my fully erect member as my wife¡¯s warm mouth retreats from it for the first time in several minutes. The elf slowly gets to her feet, her tongue peeking out to lick up thin trails of white on her lips and chin. She watches me with amorous eyes as she drops her pants and kicks them aside.

    My hands reach out to grab her waist as she climbs onto my lap. I have a moment to admire her as she rises over me, a dark green flush covering most of her face and her lips parted as she pants.

    In an uncharacteristic move, she lowers herself onto me slowly, taking me inch by inch until I¡¯m buried to the hilt. Then she begins to grind her hips, the complete opposite of her usual wild bouncing when she¡¯s on top.

    ¡°This is what our star wants, hm?¡± she whispers against my lips. My hands move to her ass, gripping it tightly. ¡°Slow. Sweet.¡± She ducks her head, burying her nose into the crook of my neck. ¡°Is she watching?¡±

    Of course she is. She¡¯s moved beyond a hand hovering over the front of her pants. It¡¯s in there, the horny blond not caring for appearances anymore as she watches us intently while seeing to her own pleasure. A probably bad idea strikes me and, mind compromised by lust, the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. ¡°Come here.¡±

    Alana freezes. Then she gets up, walking over on shaking legs to stand next to me. I motion for her to bow her head and consciously think of producing the aphrodisiac concocted with the help of a succubus. The trace amounts in my scent and bodily fluids were enough to drive away her inhibitions. I¡¯m eager to see what the full dose will do.

    I don¡¯t need to speak my request for Alana to know what I want. Her gaze bounces between Kierra¡¯s grinding hips and my hand, a single finger coated with a thin sheen of clear liquid extended from my closed fist.

    She grasps my wrist with parted lips, chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths as she brings the hand closer to her mouth. Her lips tremble as she slowly puts the finger in her mouth. I hum from a combination of her shy expression as she envelopes my finger in her warm mouth and my wife¡¯s ministrations.

    Alana licks and sucks on my finger like it¡¯s coated in honey, even past the point when my excretions are gone. It takes a bit of effort to extract it from her sucking lips and she lets out a little whine that makes the predator in me purr in delight.

    My wet hand tugs on the waist of her pants. ¡°Take them off.¡±

    Lips pursed in a cute pout, Alana slowly pushes them down, pressing her thighs together once she steps out of them. She bows her head, somehow managing to give the appearance of looking up at me shyly despite being the one standing.

    ¡°Touch yourself,¡± I breathe. ¡°I want to see.¡±

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    She bites her lower lip, eyes hesitant, but she follows my direction. A hand settles over her crotch and slowly begins to rub while she makes soft, pitiable sounds.

    ¡°Does it feel good?¡±

    She makes a vague affirmative sound.

    ¡°Mm, but it¡¯s not enough, is it? You don¡¯t want your hand pleasuring you right now. You want me. My fingers. My tongue. My cock.¡±

    She whines louder, hand moving faster.

    ¡°You want to be where she is, don¡¯t you?¡± I deliver the statement with a sharp slap to Kierra¡¯s ass. My wife laughs before increasing her pace. ¡°I want you here too, sweetie. I¡¯ve been dreaming of fucking you since I got this body. But I won¡¯t. Not yet.¡±

    ¡°Noooo.¡± Her hand stops moving so I grab it. ¡°Ahhh!¡± She moans in surprise as I force two of her own fingers into her opening, moving them in and out until she continues on her own. ¡°I¡­I want¡­¡±

    My hands move to Kierra¡¯s waist, pushing. She stands and backs up as I move toward her. When her ass hits the table, I lift her onto it, moving between her legs. She wraps them around my waist as I plant my hands on either side of her. In a rare moment of soft intimacy, I stare into her eyes, more green than gold in the light, as I push inside her. She sighs, her legs pulling me tighter and fighting to hold me in place as I pull out.

    However, she¡¯s taken at least half a dozen of my loads. Her body is warm and pliant, her eyes hazy. The lust has sapped the strength from her body. Her ferocity is still there, unable to be fully extinguished, but its tame as long as she¡¯s getting what she wants. And I give it to her, slowly increasing my speed until our hips are slapping together.

    I want Alana to see why I¡¯m so worried about crossing this line with her. To know what¡¯s waiting for her. But mainly, I want to hear the cute sounds she makes standing in the middle of my dining room pleasuring herself while begging for my attention.

    ¡°Lou¡­hah, ahhh, I¡­I want¡­¡±

    I groan as Kierra¡¯s walls constrict around me as she climaxes, her head banging against the table as she throws it back. It¡¯s enough to set me off as well. I fuck her through our pleasure and it¡¯s soon mounting again as my gift, sensitive after spewing my load inside my wife, sends sharps spikes of pleasure through my body with each thrust.

    ¡°I want it¡­want¡­¡±

    The table bounces and shifts as I ruthlessly fuck the horny elf and she moves against me just as desperately. There is a sharp cracking sound as one of the legs threatens to give way but Kierra slams a hand on the top. A green glow spreads over the wood, repairing and reinforcing it. Her other hand pulls me down until she can wrap an arm around my neck to drag me into a sloppy kiss.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to¡­Lou, I¡­ahhn~¡±

    ¡°Fuuuuuck,¡± I moan, eyes threatening to roll back as Kierra¡¯s tight walls become even tighter and start to move. They milk me, drawing another climax from me without me moving. ¡°What are you doing to me, you crazy elf?¡± I try to mumble but the words are garbled as she sticks her tongue in my mouth. My wife is beyond words. There¡¯s only one thing she wants from me.

    As our coupling gets wilder, the table can¡¯t hold up. After a particularly powerful push of my hips, it snaps in two and we fall to the ground. That¡¯s not even enough for us to pause but Kierra does use the opportunity to roll on top of me. I thrust up into her just as eagerly and she rides my bucking hips, large breasts bouncing enticingly as she fondles my own.

    -

    Sometime later, we rest, not done but content enough to spare a few minutes to catch our breaths. The lustful fog covering my mind recedes, allowing me to think, though my mind drifts in the afterglow. The sun, which was on its way down, is completely gone, replaced by a dark sky.

    A slurping sound interrupts my lazy thoughts. I raise my head, peering down our intertwined bodies to a bobbing blond head. Alana, now naked, is on her hands and knees, head bowed and tongue extended as she licks our combined cum, mostly mine with my enhanced output, off the floor while moaning softly.

    As if feeling my gaze on her, she raises her head, meeting my gaze with hooded eyes as she swallows her most recent taste. Holding my gaze, she gravitates from the floor to my leg, running her tongue over my sweaty skin. Her gaze drops as she focuses on her treat and I¡¯m surprised that she doesn¡¯t discriminate in her meal, running her tongue over any green skin she comes across as she moves up my body.

    Chuckling, I close my eyes, letting her enjoy herself as I prepare myself for round two.

 ARC 6-Winter War-26

    Three days have passed since Howie¡¯s rescue. A very quiet three days, given the damage my household wrought in Quest. No one else has come to question me after Mr. Four Affinities¡¯ poor attempt at an interrogation.

    As for the future hero, the cut on his brow was healed, his system was cleansed of my madness-inducing pheromones, and he was sent on his way after mumbling apologies he didn¡¯t mean, along with vague recollections of what happened.

    I¡¯ve been consumed with building my next circle. It is far more involved than the circle for the shuba. Not only because I have to build it from scratch but also because the creature I hope to contract is known for its species¡¯ individuality. If I want an elemental that will blend well with my household, I have to be incredibly precise with my circle.

    Alana has also been busy. After experiencing the mental-shattering effects of my body¡¯s excretions at full power, she has been training non-stop.

    Morning and night, she is sparing with Kierra. She¡¯s even forsaken seeing the teacher sent by her father, Sir Pucky or whatever his name is. She is determined to become stronger, as fast as possible.

    Any hesitance she¡¯s had about cheating her way to power is gone. She¡¯s even involved the succubi, though they are only allowed to heal and revitalize her. I don¡¯t need to worry about them putting any tricks in her body to be discovered at the most inopportune times.

    She also refuses to speak with me. I¡¯d be worried if I couldn¡¯t smell that she isn¡¯t upset. Far from it. Simply being in the same room as me is enough to have her wet and ready, so she is avoiding me like I have a plague.

    As much as she can. Geneva¡¯s cooking is enough to compel her to share a table with me and I get to enjoy a half hour of her fighting to keep her hands out of her pants while enjoying the succubus¡¯ cooking.

    ¡°Mm. This is certainly more elaborate than the last circle.¡±

    I glance up from my place on the floor to find Kierra leaning in the doorway of the room. Carefully, I navigate my way out of the circle, hyper conscious of smearing any lines. Once free, I hurry to Kierra, falling into her open arms. ¡°Alana let you go?¡±

    ¡°Despite her new rabid desire for growth, she still needs rest.¡± She chuckles. ¡°Be careful, dedia. She is like the cubs of fierce beasts. Soft and cute but their ferocious appetites can kill a mother who doesn¡¯t have enough to eat and leave destitute all but the riches of keepers.¡±

    Yeah, might have created a bit of a monster. The looks she gives me sometimes¡­

    A shiver, half apprehension, half strange excitement, goes down my spine.

    ¡°Tell me about this circle. It is quite¡­active.¡±

    I grin, turning in her arms so I can better point out the details. My second circle is quite full. Compared to the portrait of the shuba circle, this one is more like an epic series of illustrations.

    They tell a story. My story, the most exciting parts on one side, starting from my rebirth and ending with our rampage in Quest. On the other side, the half meant to represent the kind of elemental I hope to contract, are pictures of my eventual adventures. The Bleak Peaks. The world. Other realms.

    Drawn throughout are vague impressions of the creature I hope to summon. Two arms. Two legs. A head and several tails fanned out like the feathers of colorful birds. Four wings extending from its back.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°What is this one called?¡± Kierra asks putting her chin on top of my head.

    ¡°They have many names but the most common one is lueorale. Another ancient tongue. Translations differ but it vaguely means something like dancing light.¡±

    ¡°A dancer?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate them because of their name.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I do not. If you remember, my sister is a dancer. Though she prefers twirling through the forest with the birds and butterflies, she is my mother¡¯s daughter. Dancers are not to be underestimated.¡±

    ¡°Hah¡­well, the reason I¡¯m interested in lueorales is because, despite having a coefficient ranging between 200-250, they are masters of the light affinity. The summoner whose record I read contracted one at the behest of an ancient king to who loved theater. A single one was able to put on a convincing play, creating vivid illusions and supporting them with accurate sounds using the wind affinity.

    ¡°Even more amazing, they are highly creative. Each night, for a thousand nights, the lueorale wove a new story to amuse the king. The king invited nobles and heroes from other countries to show off his amazing jester. The lueorale¡¯s skill was so impressive, it sparked a war for the creature, which eventually led to its death.¡¯¡¯

    ¡°That is impressive¡­if it is true.¡±

    I shake my head and click my tongue. ¡°I don¡¯t doubt a record without good reason.¡± Ugh. Imagine if I had to question every record I ever read. No summoner can investigate every realm. We have to rely on each generation to push our knowledge a little further.

    That¡¯s why record keeping is so sacred. A summoner who falsifies their record¡­I don¡¯t have the words for that. Probably because I¡¯ve never encountered it. I suppose it¡¯s possible but¡­it simply isn¡¯t done.

    ¡°It¡¯s very impressive. However, the lueorale themselves aren¡¯t very popular now because, without question, they refuse to fight. Even in defense of their own lives.¡±

    They will run, they will hide, and they are incredible at both with their affinities, but they will never, under any conditions, harm a thinking or feeling creature.

    There are enough predators in my house. Controlling Geneva¡¯s machinations is more than enough for a lifetime. Having a benign creature¡¯s whose intentions I can trust, as far as I can trust a stranger, will be nice.

    ¡°I do not know if being taught by a flower will be effective.¡±

    ¡°Hey, just because they don¡¯t fight doesn¡¯t mean they don¡¯t know how to fight. The summoner in the record I¡¯m working from talks about some of the plays the lueorale produced and they involved epic scenes of heroes slaying powerful monsters, many using light magic.¡±

    ¡°I see. You are prioritizing knowledge and temperament over power.¡±

    ¡°You get it.¡± I could have gone for a more powerful elemental but that would mean capping my own coefficient further. As convenient as summoning powerful elementals is, I¡¯m my best asset.

    If I learn how to use my seven affinities, I will outclass any elemental I can think of. Therefore, it¡¯s important that I don¡¯t weigh myself done with too many contracts.

    ¡°Another good thing about them is that they are beauty fanatics. Anything beautiful. Women, jewelry, nature, art, anything. They also appreciate luxury items like smooth silk and fine wines. They are the ultimate connoisseurs of culture. They travel through the realms to experience it.¡±

    I grin. ¡°Which means they will bring knowledge of new things to enjoy. The realm with the most beautiful women. The best wines. The finest foods.¡±

    My wife chuckles and nuzzles the top of my head. ¡°I was wondering if my conqueror had been made too soft by her star. Good. Never forget your desires, Lou. Pursuing them will make you strong.¡±

    Hmph. She doesn¡¯t have to remind me. ¡°I¡¯m almost done with the drawing. With my new strength and speed, it won¡¯t take me long to carve.¡± Even if I¡¯m carving into smooth white stone provided by Bell. I¡¯ve had plenty of practice with the shuba circle to adapt to my strength.

    ¡°It¡¯ll take a day at most to arrange the embellishments. I¡¯ll ask you to arrange things with Talia.¡±

    ¡°As you want beautiful things to attract this creature.¡± Kierra cocks her head. ¡°Alana is stirring.¡±

    ¡°Already?¡±

    ¡°She needs sleep but not much. What else would you expect from the pets?¡± Kierra releases me. ¡°I best return before she comes searching for me. It will take several minutes to focus her mind if she catches a whiff of you.¡±

    I grin. ¡°How long, do you think?¡±

    ¡°Mm. If you allow me or the pet to be present, tonight.¡±

    I shake my finger. ¡°Alone.¡±

    ¡°If you want to allow for a little carelessness, then perhaps¡­two months.¡±

    Saints give me the patience. ¡°And if I want to allow for more?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°Can you endure for that long?¡±

    I scowl. ¡°No way.¡±

    ¡°I thought not.¡±

    I close my eyes as I think. ¡°Fine. Compromise. The first time, short and sweet. Afterwards, we¡¯ll see how she feels about company.¡± I¡¯ll lose my mind otherwise.

    My wife licks her lips. ¡°I look forward to it.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-27

    [My summoner, a moment of your attention.]

    I look up from watching Alana squirm over her dinner, annoyed. It must be serious if you haven¡¯t simply dealt with it. At least, it better be. What is it?

    [A mob has gathered before the estate. They are armed and agitated. There seems to be a split in the group. Some are arguing for a surprise assault. Others are attempting to send a representative to the door.]

    What in the saints? Who are these jesters?¡±

    [It appears to be a mix of older acolytes. Forty-three in total. The conservatives outnumber those arguing for violence.]

    Anyone we know?

    [None.]

    That¡¯s a relief. I suppose this is more fallout from our shenanigans in the city. Vengeful relatives? Heroes? They better not be a force assembled by the Hall. I¡¯d be very offended if they think they can detain us forcefully without the presence of several instructors, at the very least.

    Geneva laughs in my mind. [If I sensed hostile intentions from powerful foes, I would inform you well before they arrived, my summoner. They are a combination of the first two. Those with vendettas who are not content to wait for the judgement of the city lord and are upset with the Hall¡¯s lack of action.

    [Ah. It would seem the conservatives have managed to talk down the more aggressive members from immediately executing you. They are now arguing which group they should hand you over to, the hunters or the Hall.]

    Sloppy. Couldn¡¯t they have worked out the details before they got here?

    [Apparently, they had but the ones causing trouble changed their minds with you in their grasp, so to speak.]

    A hand idly rubs my brow as I think on the developing situation. Never when I imagined the consequences of rescuing Howie did I envision this. Sure, I expected people to be angry, especially after the unexpected number of casualties, but I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d drive them to suicide.

    They should know we¡¯re responsible for killing a guildmaster. A man who neutralized Kierra¡¯s strongest blows with ease and casually threw around flames hot enough to melt stone. What can a bunch of acolytes do against that kind of power?

    If I was the homicidal maniac they probably think I am, wouldn¡¯t they just be throwing their lives away?

    [They are moving, my summoner. An advocate is headed for the front door while the others¡­prepare an ambush. At least they¡¯ve prepared to some extent. Archers have taken positions in the garden and are coating their arrows. Two others are preparing to pour combustible potions on and around the house.]

    Hey, don¡¯t sound so casual about that! Do you know how troublesome it would be if the house burned down? Get Gajin to clean up the garden and tell Bell to help him. You handle the others. Non-lethal. I don¡¯t want to force Dunwayne to knock on my door.

    [As you wish, my summoner.]

    With Geneva¡¯s forewarning, I¡¯m not surprised when Earl appears in the doorway, frowning. ¡°My lady, a young man is demanding a meeting. He is rather rude and refuses to give his name.¡±

    ¡°Bring him in.¡±

    ¡°We are so popular lately,¡± Kierra purrs before taking another drink of wine, no doubt fully aware of what¡¯s happening.

    Alana also raises her head, brows furrowed. She doesn¡¯t have our senses but it doesn¡¯t require a strong leap in logic to assume trouble. With our household, it usually is.

    [How interesting.]

    Hm? What¡¯s happening?

    Before Geneva can answer, I hear it for myself. A powerful, howling wind that shakes the windows. It¡¯s so loud even those without my enhanced senses can hear it, the nondescript young man who enters my dining room almost jumping out of his shoes and Alana standing up.

    [It would seem the Hall doesn¡¯t take kindly to acolytes taking justice into their own hands.]

    Outside, the wind continues to howl. I can vaguely hear shouting, voices going back and forth. After several minutes, they stop, and the wind dies. Soon after, my front door is thrown open but there are no footsteps to herald the brazen intruder.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Aurelius enters my dining room, his bald head reflecting the candlelight, wearing his usual silver robe. He scans the room with a stern frown before his gaze lands on my most recent guest. ¡°Mr. Donovan. What brings you to a lady¡¯s house this late at night?¡±

    The acolyte stiffens, looking incredibly nervous as he meets the instructor¡¯s eyes. ¡°Master Aurelius. I came to have a discussion with Miss Tome¡ª¡±

    ¡°I see. Did the forty others lingering outside also plan to participate in this discussion?¡±

    ¡°We¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste my time, Mr. Donovan. The rules of the Hall are clear. There is to be no unsanctioned violence.¡±

    ¡°I understand that, sir, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what justification makes you think you can disregard this rule but I assure you, it is inadequate. If you shut up and return to your room obediently to await judgment, this can end without any more injury.¡±

    Ouch. I¡¯m a little embarrassed on his behalf. Aurelius just scolded him like he¡¯s the poor man¡¯s daddy and there¡¯s nothing the acolyte can do about it. He¡¯s clearly upset but rather than lash out, he bows his head and slips from the room, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

    ¡°Really, people are so rude. Didn¡¯t even bother to say hello,¡± I say flippantly. Alana retakes her seat, seeing the situation has deescalated, but she watches Aurelius carefully.

    ¡°Good evening, Lady Tome. I hope you don¡¯t mind me barging in.¡±

    I shrug my shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t like it but you did clean up the pests infesting my garden so I can overlook it this time.¡± There was a time I felt immense dread when I saw him, as I wondered how I could possibly handle the master caster with an obsessive desire for my wife.

    Now? I feel powerful. Powerful enough that the disdain overwhelms the dread. If I weren¡¯t trying to make any more waves, I¡¯d take the opportunity to crack his skull open right now. He¡¯s nothing more than an annoyance. Oh, how far I¡¯ve come.

    ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to them? I imagine trying to burn me alive warrants more than a slap on the wrist.¡±

    ¡°Then you were aware of them. Here I thought I¡¯d done the work of a hero.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t sell yourself short. You certainly saved those idiots from themselves. I think I have a reputation for ruthlessness.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± The wind caster sighs, smoothing his features. ¡°Allow me to make the Hall¡¯s stance clear, Lady Tome. We will not tolerate any violation of the school¡¯s rules but that is not to be mistaken as approval. Our protection does not extend beyond the boundaries of the Hall.

    ¡°You will have to shoulder the consequences of your actions and they are far-reaching. The Hall will not speak up on your behalf or interfere with the process of the law. If the city guard should come to detain you, we will not intervene.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°Never expected you to.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re arrogant, Lourianne. Perhaps you have good reasons to be but it¡¯s still dangerous. Before the Great War, human kingdoms spanned the world. We were at the peak of our power. Yet, we were still routed and forced to hide away. No matter how great the caster, there is always a dragon above you.¡±

    I eye him with disdain. ¡°I don¡¯t remember giving you permission to address me so casually, Master Aurelius. Thanks for your concern but I don¡¯t need it and I never asked for it.¡± Don¡¯t assume I¡¯m the same as you. You¡¯d be wrong.

    ¡°My concern is more for the people you may drag down with you. Speaking of, Lady James.¡± He turns to Alana. ¡°Sir Polluck is worried by your sudden lack of contact. He asks that you visit him¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi!¡± I slap the table, bringing his attention back to me. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a messenger boy but since you¡¯ve taken it up, here¡¯s one for the good knight. Unless his legs aren¡¯t working, he can bring his self-important ass here if he wants to talk to her.¡±

    Who do these bastards think they are? Sending a master with a demand to see her? At best, he takes advantage of Aurelius¡¯ power and position to help coerce her. At worse, it¡¯s subtle intimidation. Either way, he can fuck right off to the Abyss.

    The bald bastard has been trying to keep a neutral face and tone but his brows twitch at my harsh words. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t involve yourself in family matters.¡±

    ¡°Are you finished?¡± I tense, ready to toss him out if he refuses his cue to leave. Please give me a reason. ¡°As you can see, we¡¯re in the middle of dinner.¡±

    A definite twitch of his brows there. ¡°Of course. Then I bid you a good night, Lady Tome, Lady James. Kierra, you should speak with the instructors before your journey. Many of the crafters give discounts to fellow members of staff.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t respond, watching him with a cold gaze until he leaves the room. I let out an explosive sigh after I hear the strong burst of wind that speaks to his departure. ¡°Seems the Hall is staying out of this.¡± Which is great because that is the one group I don¡¯t think I could handle without fleeing the kingdom.

    ¡°In the future,¡± Alana says, a touch crossly, ¡°I can speak for myself.¡±

    ¡°Mm, sorry. He irks me.¡±

    ¡°¡­they won¡¯t touch you.¡± Didn¡¯t expect her to come down on my side so decisively. She¡¯s so cute when she¡¯s determined. ¡°They may have retreated before a master but they¡¯ll undoubtedly try again. Likely when we leave the city. We¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    ¡°Hm~¡± I lean forward, putting my chin in a palm. ¡°What if it¡¯s the city guard who comes after me? They can still declare I¡¯ve broken the law and attempt to detain me under the authority of the crown. Will you still fight for me then? Because criminal or no, I won¡¯t surrender.¡±

    I watch Alana intensely as her lips press together in a severe frown. This has to be a tough question. I know how much she values law and justice. Her views can be a bit brutal but she respects the ¡°good guys¡±. She wants to be the knight that puts down villains like me.

    But there¡¯s another part of her. A greedy, prideful part that is attracted to me and doesn¡¯t want to follow the rules. It wants to break them and make her own, I think.

    ¡°Yes.¡± That part of her seems to grow stronger every day. I can¡¯t imagine her saying the same the first day we met. ¡°I¡¯d¡­I¡¯d fight for you.¡±

    ¡°Sweetie¡ª¡±

    ¡°But.¡± Her tone is hard as her eyes narrow. ¡°I won¡¯t let you become like those useless bastards who think their power means they can do whatever they want. If you ever step out of line, I¡¯ll bring you to justice myself.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-28

    The morning a week before we leave for the north, I open the door to Miss Talia. She looks the same as usual, her dark hair left to fall straight down her back like a waterfall of darkness, her eyes closed, and wearing her usual dull, gray robe that can¡¯t hide her modest but enticing curves. I check around her, looking for any bags, but there is nothing besides her lovely self.

    ¡°Good morning, Lou,¡± she greets in her magical voice.

    ¡°Morning. Are you not able to stay over?¡±

    ¡°I will stay as long as I am needed.¡±

    ¡°But you have no luggage.¡±

    She tilts her head. ¡°Kierra said she would take care of it. Did she not inform you?¡±

    No, she didn¡¯t, but I¡¯m not surprised. Miss Talia is interested in me yet we have done nothing more than share a few conversations. The dorm mother isn¡¯t used to relationships. We are easing into deeper intimacy. Kierra has taken the lead in accustoming the dorm mother to such things.

    In the elf¡¯s world, there exists ¡°mates¡± that are meant to be conquered, or to conquer her as she would prefer for me, and there are ¡°flowers¡±, beautiful, delicate things that are meant to be protected and admired.

    Miss Talia is her flower. She dotes on her in a way that is both sweet and easily seen as demeaning. It goes beyond pampering. She is truly like a flower, to be moved, watered, and pruned at her gardener¡¯s discretion.

    I¡¯ve seen a similar dynamic between men with vastly younger wives in my home village. Families tend to prefer marrying their daughters of appropriate age to older men with established income and life experience as opposed to indulging the fleeting love and rampant lust of a more youthful partner.

    Of course Kierra would want to take care of her during her stay and if she says to come empty-handed, Miss Talia would trust her implicitly. That is her role as a flower.

    ¡°Come on in.¡±

    I close the door behind her as she steps inside. ¡°You smell nice.¡±

    ¡°Hm? Thanks.¡± It¡¯s not much of an achievement as I literally cannot smell anything besides nice. I suppose I can be covered in something that smells unpleasant but I¡¯m hardly about to dump a chamber pot over my head.

    Miss Talia¡¯s lips turn down the slightest fraction. ¡°Did that not make you happy?¡±

    I smother a laugh. ¡°It did but, hm. It was lacking a bit of power. That sounded like something an awkward boy might say to his childhood crush.¡±

    ¡°Power?¡± she questions.

    ¡°Something like¡­¡± I grab one of her hands, cupping the fingers gently as I flash a charming smile, or at least what I hope is one. ¡°You grow more beautiful each time I see you, Talia. I must wonder if you have a physical affinity as your mere presence heals my heart.¡± I kiss her fingers for good measure before letting go with a chuckle.

    Not that I know much about flirting. I wooed my wife with brawling and shapeshifting. Alana, well, I certainly drowned her in compliments but they had less effect than my brazen confidence delivering them, I think. Or perhaps my attractiveness.

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t worry about it too much.¡± I loop our arms together and lead her to the dining room. ¡°I like you just the way you are.¡±

    ¡°There is always room to improve. To remain the same is to stagnate.¡±

    ¡°If you say so. Have you eaten breakfast?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°And this will be your first time eating my succubus¡¯ cooking. You¡¯re in for a treat.¡±

    Kierra and Alana are already seated, Geneva serving them. My wife perks up as we enter, smiling softly as I guide Miss Talia to a seat next to her before reclaiming my own.

    There¡¯s a long silence as food is served and we dig into it. I pay attention to the dorm mother, eager to see her reaction. Even Geneva¡¯s cooking isn¡¯t enough to melt her stiff features but she does smile noticeably. I suppose that¡¯s a win.

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    I clear my throat after a few minutes, grabbing their attention. ¡°Alright, ladies. You all know why you¡¯re here, besides giving me the pleasure of your company.¡±

    Alana reluctantly puts down her fork. ¡°You want us to be present for your summoning.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Feel free to keep eating, I¡¯m just going to talk for a while.¡± I chuckle as Alana doesn¡¯t hesitate to take me up on that offer. Bell, bring me my notes.

    Moments later, the imp comes scampering into the room, my notes rolled up in her tail. I lift her into my lap, settling her on a thigh as I grab them. ¡°The elemental I am going to summon is called a lueorale. Masters of illusion and theater. Purveyors of culture and all manners of mortal delights.¡±

    ¡°Sounds right up your alley,¡± Alana mutters.

    ¡°Not finished, sweetie.¡± I snicker at her flush. ¡°They are also pacifists who value the bonds between family and friends. They are known for their love of justice and heroes, going as far as to assist and guide those who do good deeds. In short, they¡¯re going to love you.¡±

    She makes a thoughtful humming noise and goes back to her breakfast.

    ¡°They have three affinities, wind, light, and null. Their primary affinity is light and they specialize in illusions. The wind affinity is used to create sound to accompany said illusions and they have a penchant for music. They use the null affinity primarily as a means of escape but are also capable of moving multiple individuals across vast distances instantaneously.¡±

    ¡°I advise you do not mention that to anyone else, Lou,¡± Miss Talia says and I think I can hear the faintest traces of genuine concern in her voice.

    ¡°Teleportation is a highly valued skill but it is far too costly in mana to be a viable means of transportation by either merchants or the army. If this being has a spell that reduces those costs, there are many powerful individuals who will hound you to the ends of the kingdom to obtain it.¡±

    ¡°Of course they would,¡± I grumble.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t they just hire a summoner to contract one for them?¡± Alana asks around a mouthful of sausage. She really does have terrible table manners when she¡¯s not consciously minding them.

    ¡°If this kingdom understood the value of a competent summoner, that would indeed be their best option. Unfortunately, they don¡¯t. Thanks to the Grimoires, summoners are despised by the nobles and the nobles dictate policy.

    ¡°They would be hard pressed to find a summoner with the skill and knowledge to build a proper circle. They¡¯d be harder pressed to find such a person who can also entice the elemental into forming a contract.

    ¡°The lueorale want to have a good time. They aren¡¯t going to want to tie themselves to a stiff-spined worker bowing and scraping at the feet of a noble master who wants to fill his coffers with more gold. They enjoy free spirits and wild adventures. Dashing heroes and charming maidens.¡±

    I point to myself. ¡°Free spirit.¡± The finger moves to Kierra. ¡°Wild adventures.¡± I move on to Alana. ¡°Dashing hero.¡± Finally, Miss Talia. ¡°Charming maiden.¡±

    ¡°We make enticing bait,¡± my wife purrs.

    ¡°Precisely why I chose this elemental. We are the ideal contractors for a lueorale and it is the ideal companion for us. Despite their pacifism, they have knowledge of combat and how to use their affinities, and others, in combat. They are also well-traveled, so they can offer knowledge of other realms and what they can offer. Now.¡±

    I flip through a few of the papers, finding the notes I¡¯m looking for. ¡°The circle was completed last night so all that¡¯s needed is to power it. However, before I do that, we need to make sure we have the environment right. The lueorale wants a good time. So, to entice it, we need to show it a good time. This is where you come in.

    ¡°All I need you to do is enjoy yourselves. The most important thing is to relax. Don¡¯t try and force it, that¡¯s the last thing I want. I¡¯ve provided drinks, snacks, and comfortable chairs. It¡¯d be better if I had a ballroom at my disposable and a few musicians but that would be far too public. Ah, well. We make do with what we have.¡±

    ¡°I can sing if that would help.¡±

    I turn to Miss Talia sharply. ¡°Sing?¡±

    ¡°Mm. The children in the orphanage I grew up in are taught trades and arts. They work to help provide income and those with talents have a better chance at being adopted or receiving patronage. I was praised many times for my voice. Lord Remmings, who became my teacher and patron, insisted my training be continued.¡±

    With her voice, I¡¯m inclined to believe her but I¡¯m too cautious with summoning to take her on her word. ¡°Show me.¡±

    Kierra thoughtfully hands the dorm mother her cup of wine, the elf rarely drinks anything else now that she has a supply of the good stuff, urging Miss Talia to take a deep swallow. Miss Talia clears her throat. Then she sings.

    It¡¯s nothing like the bawdy songs drunken customers sing in taverns or the lyrical and sensitive songs popular at banquets. She doesn¡¯t say a word. She just¡­makes a few sounds.

    A note that rises and dips as she holds it. And yet, it is unquestionably the most beautiful thing I¡¯ve ever heard. I stare at her in slack-jawed surprise. I don¡¯t say anything. I don¡¯t think anything. It¡¯d ruin the moment.

    The rest of the table is in a similar state. Alana has even abandoned her food to listen, watching the dorm mother she¡¯d been subtly ignoring with rapt attention. Kierra watches her with a smile, holding her chin in a hand.

    ¡°Was that acceptable?¡±

    It takes me a moment to regain my senses once she finishes. Her expression remains as blank as ever but I have to swallow back a sudden urge to kiss her.

    I used to wonder why the village girls fawned over the bards that passed through the local tavern despite them being just as poor and generally unattractive as their other choices. Worse options even, given they didn¡¯t have land to inherit or a stable income. I think I get it now. Miss Talia¡¯s voice does something to me but her singing¡­mm. It¡¯s dangerous.

    ¡°Yeah. Do that.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-29

    Sometime after noon, once Miss Talia has had a tour of the house and my wife has finished a long training session with my future saint, I take them to see the circle.

    Alana gasps as I lead them into the spare bedroom where my circle is. I understand her reaction. The room has been completely transformed since she last saw it during the shuba summoning. Then, the room was dark and foreboding, with a disturbing drawing of the Dark Lord on the ground surrounded by bladed weapons, some of them still covered in dried blood.

    The wooden floor has been replaced by white stone, in which are carved fantastical drawings that wouldn¡¯t be out of place in a storybook. The single window in the room has been blocked, both to hide the room from any prying eyes, though I doubt anyone would dare trespass with our reputation, and to safeguard the effect of the colored lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

    With them all lit, it¡¯s almost as if we¡¯ve walked into the Myriad Zone, the strange area of Quest shadowed by the Grand Hall where colors are twisted and inverted.

    Placed around the circle are three tables, specially designed with one stout leg and a circular top. The first has scenes of water monsters and elementals carved into its leg, painted in shades of green and blue, while the top has been covered in dark blue scales, glued to it expertly and worked until they are smooth as glass.

    Atop it are over two dozen glasses. A purchase that made me wince at the price for the first time in a while. They¡¯re a custom order, with clear, thin stems but golden glass for the bowls. On each of them is the outline of an open tome, paying homage to my crest, in dark purple. Something so pointlessly lavish can only be found in the homes of high nobles. I admit, it felt good ordering them.

    I originally planned to set them out with a sweet wine, as the lueorale have a fondness for sweet things. Geneva took it a bit further. She stacked them up, balancing the glasses on each other¡¯s thin rims, to build a pyramid. A very delicate pyramid that she proceeded to pour wine into.

    Miraculously, they stayed in place while being filled and the effect is stunning. Behind them are the less visually stunning tall jugs of milk, water, and juices.

    The next table is made from wood with a wonderful cherry undertone. Its leg has flames carved along its single leg, the motif enhanced with red and yellow paint. Atop it is the warm food. Platters of sausage, on their own, wrapped in buttery blankets of golden bread, and smaller pieces speared on spits with other ingredients.

    Bowls of warm cheese somehow made syrupy sprinkled with spices surrounded by pieces of crunchy bread. Bits of chicken covered in flour and dipped in hot oil until crunchy. Large pieces of beef and pork smothered in savory and spicy sauces.

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    Soups and stews. Even cookies, as they¡¯re best warm. Last, a large bowl of honey, sourced all the way from Rosentheim hives. The lueorale are supposed to be really fond of it.

    The third table, made of black stone and crafted by Bell, contains the food made better with a little chill. Small sandwiches, shaved ice, which I never considered a food, drizzled with fruit juice made into a thick syrup, slices of raw fish, another thing I never thought I¡¯d be eating, drizzled with a variety of sauces, and, my personal favorite, a cold creamy dessert made from milk in varying flavors. In the center of the table is a bowl of ice, to be used at other¡¯s discretion.

    Large, comfy chairs are placed together, a pair facing each other and a group of three arranged in a half circle. Heroic paintings and fine tapestries hang from the walls, with a few smatterings of manabeast skulls.

    They clash with everything else but Kierra smiles seeing them. That¡¯d be reward enough but it¡¯s important to be authentic. This circle, this room, is meant to represent me and what I have to offer. Kierra is very much a part of my life. My future companion needs to know and accept her.

    ¡°This is¡­¡± Alana trails off but her expression says it all. Her eyes linger on the food.

    ¡°How colorful,¡± Kierra says more simply.

    Miss Talia is absorbed in examining the circle. My wife taps her shoulder and she looks at her before turning to me. ¡°The room is very nice, Lou. I can tell you put a lot of effort into decorating.¡±

    Her compliments are so dry, anyone else might think she¡¯s being sarcastic but I know she¡¯s trying her best. Amazing how someone with a face like a block of ice can still be cute. ¡°Thanks. Now, if everyone will make themselves comfortable¡ª¡±

    ¡°A moment, my summoner.¡±

    I turn as Geneva enters the room, followed by Bell in her rarely used virtue from, a woman of black stone with a crown of horns. The don in a guise of a thrall smiles sweetly, tail swinging in amusement. ¡°Such an occasion should be enjoyed to the fullest. I¡¯ve prepared a few outfits to match the extravagance of your circle with the aid of mistress.¡±

    I turn to Kierra, who in turn looks toward Alana and Miss Talia. ¡°A gift to welcome you to the house.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Miss Talia responds softly and immediately. It feels almost reflexive.

    ¡°No need to thank me, lily. I enjoy dressing you.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to dress me too?¡± Alana grumbles. She looks at the food longingly. ¡°Is it necessary?¡±

    ¡°The being my summoner wants to contract admires beautiful things. That includes beautiful clothing. Don¡¯t you want to be as helpful as possible?¡±

    That breaks Alana¡¯s longing stare, her eyes moving away from the tables with a sigh. ¡°I suppose.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re fine the way they are,¡± I say with a frown. Really, I¡¯d be hard-pressed to find better options. Saints, they could be smeared with dirt and dressed in rags and they¡¯d still be unrivaled beauties. Combined with myself and my succubi, well. There¡¯s almost too much to admire.

    ¡°Stop being sappy,¡± Alana says with a flush. ¡°If putting on a dress increases your chances of success, we¡¯ll do it. Besides, I feel underdressed anyway. I¡¯ve attended banquets thrown by my father that don¡¯t feel as lavish as this.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well, if you insist¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve also prepared something for you, my summoner.¡±

    Eh?

 ARC 6-Winter War-30

    The four of us follow Geneva to my bedroom. Laid out on the bed in four distinct piles are clothes of all styles. Dresses dominate but there are also shirts, jackets, trousers, and anything in-between. Quite a selection and they all appear to be of high quality. That doesn¡¯t mention the two tables on either side of the bed holding a variety of accessories. ¡°When did you have time to prepare this?¡±

    ¡°During our adventure the other night, I grabbed and stashed away anything that caught my eye or looked as if it would sell for a good price.¡±

    I stare at her. Do you mean to tell me that while you were wreaking havoc and tracking down one of the hunters that attacked Howie, you also managed to steal from what looks like half the city? ¡°You weren¡¯t carrying anything but our witness when you showed up.¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t do for anyone to spot me with my ill-gotten gains.¡± She giggles. ¡°I stashed the loot and had Bell retrieve it later.¡±

    ¡°But¡­why? We have plenty of money.¡± Well, my wife does. Really, where does she keep getting more? ¡°If there was something you wanted, you could have just asked.¡±

    ¡°Taking it was part of the fun~ It was a whim, Lou, though it has served a purpose. I have begun teaching Anna to sew and intend to assign her projects while we are in the north. It was also good training for Earl, determining the worth of items without context to give hints and quizzing him on how to sell them off if it came to it.¡±

    Why would he need¡­oh, never mind. I suppose it¡¯s good to have all kinds of knowledge.

    ¡°Alright. Pick something you like and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lou, would it not be a tad inappropriate to simply change into such wonderful clothes? Why not take a bath?¡± I once again turn to stare my succubus, who is grinning unrepentantly. ¡°It has already been prepared and I took the liberty of sourcing new soaps, including new ones meant to clean hair.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    Kierra interrupts me with a chuckle. ¡°Come, lily,¡± she says, extending a hand to Miss Talia. ¡°I am quite good at washing another after pampering my Lou.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± I shout at her back, a little embarrassed to have her throw that detail out casually. My eyes flick to a frowning Alana. It¡¯s not her disapproving frown but her uncomfortable frown. The one that says she¡¯s not quite sure how to handle this situation. ¡°Ignore her. You don¡¯t have to join us. There¡¯s a smaller tub for individual use.¡±

    Alana¡¯s frown eases, as she considers her options. She sighs heavily. ¡°If I¡¯m going to do this, then I¡¯m going to do it properly.¡± I¡¯m not quite sure what she means but her eyes are determined as she marches toward the bathroom. Shrugging, I follow her, pulling my shirt over my head as I go.

    Despite her determination, Alana stalls just inside the door. Though it may have less to do with her hesitance and more to do with Kierra pulling Miss Talia¡¯s robe off her shoulders. She¡¯s certainly staring at them hard enough.

    I don¡¯t blame her. My wife¡¯s strong fingers trailing over Miss Talia¡¯s stomach¡¯s before wrapping around her waist, the dorm mother limp and pliant in her grasp, the picture of willing surrender, mm.

    I tear my gaze away and shuck off my pants and underthings, kicking them against a wall. Then I tap Alana on the shoulder, making her jump. ¡°Need some help?¡±

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    ¡°I have it,¡± she grumbles. She practically throws off her clothes, combating her reticence with haste. I leave her to it as I step into the sunken bath. A bit early for it but the hot water feels amazing, the soaps filling the room with pleasant-smelling steam. I close my eyes, immediately relaxing.

    Something entering the water distracts me and I open an eye as Alana sinks into the water beside me. Her shoulders are stiff and her lips are pressed tightly together but it¡¯s already impressive enough that she¡¯s here at all.

    Miss Talia is the opposite. I have to wonder what my wife has been doing with her, as she has zero shame. She has no problem sitting between Kierra¡¯s legs, her head resting on my wife¡¯s shoulder. Mm, if they didn¡¯t look so good together, I might be jealous. It also helps knowing that could be me, in either of their places, any time I want.

    Gentle hands enter my hair, massaging my scalp and lathering in the new soap Geneva spoke of.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Alana says in a strained voice, rejecting Bell who kneels behind her.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it for you when I¡¯m finished,¡± I offer.

    ¡°No one asked you.¡± Hm. That wasn¡¯t a refusal.

    ¡°Soooo¡­¡± I drawl, half in play, half because of the comfort of Geneva¡¯s massage. ¡°¡­anything interesting happen to anyone?¡±

    Wouldn¡¯t it be a shame if we let this wonderful opportunity to bond go to waste? Alana has grown more accustomed to Kierra through their training but she seems wary of Miss Talia and the dorm mother naturally comes off as distant. I¡¯d prefer if everyone got along well.

    ¡°Nothing as interesting as what you get up to,¡± Alana mutters. The bath is doing its work and her shoulders have relaxed, the future saint sinking in the water down to her chin.

    ¡°How¡¯s the training been going?¡±

    Her eyes cut to my wife who flashes her a smile. ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°Just good?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    Okay, then. ¡°Well¡­¡±

    ¡°Lily,¡± Kierra purrs. ¡°Do you have any news?¡±

    ¡°I do not think it relevant.¡±

    ¡°It is relevant because we want to know.¡± She taps the dorm mother¡¯s lips. ¡°Share.¡±

    ¡°I have recently received a letter from my benefactor, Lord Remmings. A personal request for me to return to the capital. He has even offered to send a replacement from the interrogators to take over my duties, despite the unfeasibility of it. It speaks to how much he wants to me accept.¡±

    I have questions. ¡°Who is this Remmings? Why does he want you in the capital? And why are you saying he can¡¯t send a replacement from the interrogators?¡±

    She turns to me. Feeling her focus on me despite her closed eyes used to unnerve me but I¡¯m entirely used to it now. ¡°Remmings is the head of the interrogators. When my affinity and talent were discovered, he took me in as his disciple and an unofficial daughter. I don¡¯t know why he wants me in the capital. It can¡¯t be too serious, or he would have sent someone to fetch me.¡±

    ¡°Fetch you?¡± Kierra growls. ¡°Whoever should dare try will lose their hands.¡±

    Miss Talia is unaffected by the passionate declaration. ¡°It is unfeasible to replace me with a member from the interrogators as they are seen as the hands of the crown. Heirs from many powerful families stay in the Gold Dorm. Families that may not support the crown. The Hall is meant to be neutral in kingdom politics. Allowing a member of the interrogators to watch over their children will be seen as catering to the king.¡±

    ¡°Huh? But you¡¯re this Remmings¡¯ disciple. The crown already has an insider in you. Unless you¡¯re going to tell me they haven¡¯t asked you to pass on information?¡±

    ¡°They have.¡± I knew it. ¡°However, as I¡¯m not a member of the interrogators, there is an illusion of neutrality. Nobles hold their pretenses dear.¡±

    Don¡¯t I know it. I sigh in pleasure as Geneva manipulates the bath water to rinse my hair. ¡°Is he going to be a problem?¡± I¡¯d be very upset if I returned from glorious battle to find my mistress snatched back home by her domineering father. Haha, I sound very much like the hero of a trashy bard song.

    ¡°No. My benefactor puts reason above emotion. It is why he never adopted me, as it would invite the trouble of giving a girl more talented than his own children his family name, despite how he cared for me. He cannot force me to leave and can¡¯t anger the Hall by forcefully removing me.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± Geneva, pass me the hair soap. I take the vial and move closer to Alana.

    ¡°You were serious?¡± she asks as she sits up.

    ¡°Of course.¡± I gently tug on her until she moves between my legs, mirroring the positions of Kierra and Miss Talia. Like that, we enjoy the rest of our bath.

 ARC 6-Winter War-31

    Half an hour later, we¡¯ve returned to the spare room containing my circle, dressed as if we¡¯re about to step before the king.

    As if. Geneva was in charge of our choices. Despite the many options, not a single one of them were ¡°decent¡± by average standards.

    Alana chose a simple combination of a shirt and pants. However, the tight leather pants cling to her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination.

    The shirt is worse. There are deep necklines and then there is a nonexistent one. If it weren¡¯t for her wraps, most of her chest would be on display. As it is, I can still see the top swell of her breasts. She grumbled as she put the clothes on but in the end, her choice is the most modest.

    Kierra dressed Miss Talia. Being the deviant she is, she delighted in the clothes and had no problems dressing the normally plain, at least in the clothing department, dorm mother in them.

    Miss Talia is wearing a dress, in the loosest term of the word. After all, it shows more than it covers. Two strips of black, tied at the back her neck, go over her breast, just managing to cover her nipples, before crossing underneath her breasts. They cross again over her flat, smooth stomach before flowing into the bottom half of the dress.

    Which is a skirt. An incredibly short one. I¡¯m sure if she bends down too far, I¡¯ll see everything. It¡¯s beyond scandalous. Combined with her perfectly calm expression, as if nothing is amiss, mm.

    Never one to be outdone, Kierra is far worse. She abandoned clothes all together. Instead, she¡¯s tastefully covered herself in a handful of dark green wyvern scales. As expected of my wife.

    As for myself, well, Geneva did prepare something special for me. To my surprise, it isn¡¯t something raunchy like everyone else. The opposite. From my polished boots, fitted shirt and pants that tell me Geneva has my measurements, expensive jacket that hangs past my waist, and the copious amount of jewelry on my person, I look every bit the rich lady entertaining her wives.

    Though with time to think, it isn¡¯t that surprising. The clothes are a statement. She¡¯s dressed Alana, Miss Talia, and Kierra up to be admired. I¡¯m in more stately clothing because I am to be respected.

    I didn¡¯t plan for such overt displays of authority for this summoning as that¡¯s not how I want to define my relationship with this elemental. Unlike the succubi, they value and prefer friendship.

    This little runaround is Geneva¡¯s way of expressing her disapproval of such an attitude, I suppose. I do understand her intentions. Being friendly is great but I am the summoner and this is my potential elemental. The creature is here by my will, to progress my agendas and serve my whims. I can be as nice as I want after our roles are established.

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    I clap my hands. ¡°Ladies, it¡¯s time. Grab a bite, take a seat, and relax. Let¡¯s get comfortable.¡±

    I sigh as no one makes a move. Moving quickly, I grab the most nervous looking of the lot, Alana of course, and drag her over to the food table.

    A good whiff is all she needs. The hand I¡¯m holding immediately reaches for the closest morsel as soon as I let it go. In moments, she is audibly enjoying herself as she stuffs her face.

    Chuckling, Kierra moves to the wineglasses, grabbing a drink.

    ¡°Miss Talia.¡± She approaches after I wave her over and I lead her over to a chair. I quickly grab us both a drink, handing her a glass. ¡°Do you know happy songs? Something upbeat.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Sad? Melancholy? Relaxing?¡±

    ¡°I am well trained in all forms of music.¡±

    ¡°Alright, great. Then, surprise me. Sing what you like but don¡¯t keep the mood down for too long.¡± I drop into the chair beside her as she sings the first note, filling the room with wonderful music.

    And that¡¯s how we spend several minutes. Alana stops eating to grab a drink, becoming far chattier while under the influence. She moves around the room chatting up everyone, including Geneva and Bell who linger about, and sampling more food and drink.

    Miss Talia keeps the music coming, every song as beautiful as last. She pauses when Kierra comes to refresh her drink and deliver small bits of food, taking the break to stroke her hair and gently kiss her.

    She really does treat the dorm mother like a delicate flower. Which is completely hilarious as she¡¯s strong enough to be considered the unofficial heir to the head interrogator, the strongest mental caster in the kingdom.

    We dance. With Alana, that amounts to slightly coordinated stumbling, as she is terrible. Kierra is much better but also far worse, as we can¡¯t keep our hands off each other long enough to complete a dance.

    She pulls me against her and that¡¯s enough to spark a kiss and that rapidly devolves into something¡­messier. We manage to keep from fucking on the floor, thankfully. I¡¯m determined to see this summoning through.

    When the mood is at its peak, I move over to the circle and kneel at its edge. Touching a finger to the smooth line, I channel my mana into the stone, powering it while keeping in mind the elemental I want to summon. When I remove my hand, I can feel a presence both within the circle and outside this realm. ¡°Come join us,¡± I offer.

    A pale blue rift appears over the circle. I catch the faintest glimpse of a grassy hill beyond it before an iridescent ball of light the size of my head floats through and it snaps shut. The ball of light zips about the circle erratically, practically radiating excitement. I chuckle at the sight. It seems my new friend likes what it sees.

    ¡°You can join us as soon as we have a little talk.¡±

    The ball of light stops before moving in front of me. Its glow dims, revealing the figure at its center. I can call it humanoid as it has a vaguely recognizable shape of a head, two arms, and two legs. All similarities end there.

    Where its face should be is an ever-shifting riot of colors, the rapidly changing vision dizzying to watch. Its hands have three fingers and its feet have two toes. Sprouting from its back are four clear wings, thin, golden veins visible throughout.

    At its waist is a thick, feathery tail but as it hovers before me, the tail spreads, displaying the individual feathers that each have their own unique pattern.

    It giggles, its body shifting from white to pink. The lueorale¡¯s skin changes color according to its mood. Shades of red are iffy. According to the record, red represents passion or anger. So, either its very enamored with us or pissed off. I¡¯m hoping for the former.

    ¡°hElLo!¡± it sings, a dozen voices speaking in perfect harmony, sounding both beautiful and unnervingly strange. ¡°dO yOU WaNt tO bE My fRieNd?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-32

    I wince, the strange voice both beautiful and incredibly unpleasant. It feels like my brain is being tickled while my ears are being stabbed. ¡°I¡¯d very much like to be your friend but we can¡¯t talk like this. Can you speak with less¡­¡± I don¡¯t quite know how to say it.

    Thankfully, the lueorale understands me. ¡°oH!¡± Its wings vibrate, moving fast enough to become a blur as it turns a bright yellow. I believe that color represents embarrassment. Or an apology. They communicate visually as well as verbally. ¡°Better?¡±

    I sigh at the voice that reminds me of wind chimes. ¡°Much better. Thank you, little friend.¡±

    ¡°Welcome, big friend!¡± Yellow to pink. ¡°Now, now!¡± A chair materializes beneath the lueorale, a small golden throne with red cushioning. It sits with its legs crossed, folding its tail feathers and tucking its wings against its back. Pink to blue now. The color that represents calm. ¡°Shall we begin, summoner?¡±

    The unbridled cheer is gone, replaced by placid rationale. It seems I¡¯ve made a good impression but emotion will not sway my prospective companion¡¯s judgment. A relief, really. It¡¯d be a problem if a few embellishments and a good spread was enough to trick it. Geneva, bring me one of the chairs.

    My succubus obeys, setting the chair in front of the circle before retreating without a word. I¡¯ve already ordered her not to get involved. The others are doing their best to ignore us and continue enjoying themselves. A contract is between a summoner and an elemental. There is no room for third parties.

    ¡°We shall. My name is Lourianne but most call me Lou.¡±

    ¡°Lou~ My traveling name is Rolling Hills Beneath a Sky of Dreams That Rains Water of the Heart.¡± It giggles at my expression. ¡°I have the shortest name in my family, hehe.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­do you want me to call you that¡­every time?¡±

    ¡°Hehe, no, no. My name is the title of the story that is myself. Titles can be translated, as I have done for you to understand me, and they can be abbreviated. I leave it to you.¡±

    I¡¯m suddenly faced with an expectant gaze. Is this some sort of test? Ah, I¡¯m not the greatest at naming things. ¡°How about Rolly?¡±

    ¡°Roooolly.¡± The lueorale stares at me for a long moment. Then it shrugs. Actually shrugs. ¡°Refreshingly simple. My last summoner heaped all manners of titles upon my head. Which can be fun but it gets boring after a few journeys.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m assuming you mean journeys to other realms.¡±

    ¡°Mm!¡±

    ¡°Have you been on many?¡±

    Rolly kicks its legs like a child. ¡°I¡¯m the youngest and I¡¯ve only started my journeys recently. Only have seventy under my wings.¡±

    Many etiquette classes and practices with my father allow me to keep my expression neutral. Seventy, it says, like that¡¯s a little. This creature has first-hand experience of seventy-different realms and speaks of it as if it¡¯s nothing. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got a lot of journeying left in you.¡±

    ¡°Mm! Which brings me to the contract.¡±

    Oh, good. I was a little worried that Rolly would make small talk for the rest of the night.

    ¡°I¡¯ve visited this realm before so I know about humans. You don¡¯t smell like them.¡±

    I smile ruefully. ¡°I¡¯m not human, no.¡±

    ¡°Mm, you smell like you¡¯re going to live a long time.¡±

    Eh? What does a long life smell like?

    ¡°That means I¡¯d be stuck with you for a long time.¡± More kicking. ¡°So you have to make sure it¡¯s worth it! I don¡¯t want to be stuck with a bore for years and years.¡±

    I try not to be offended. ¡°I like to think I¡¯m not a bore. Besides, I have plans.¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°What if I told you you could travel the realms without forming another contract?¡±

    Rolly freezes. Then the creature bolts up, flying towards me. Its outstretched hands hit an invisible barrier at the edge of the circle, the air shimmering where it touches and its wings beating so fast they make an audible hum. ¡°Are you serious?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re willing to wait.¡± Once I¡¯ve explored this world, seeing the other realms is the next logical step. ¡°It may take those years and years.¡±

    Rolly laughs, switching to a bright yellow while twirling back to its chair. Not sure what that color means but the elemental is clearly excited. ¡°We¡¯ve got nothing but time! A realm traveler who wants to journey without the Guardian¡¯s blessing. Interesting, very interesting! It¡¯ll make a good story. But¡­it¡¯s not enough.¡±

    I stand up and grab one of the wineglasses. Rolly obligingly moves toward the opposite end of the circle, giving me plenty of space to set down the wine. Once I¡¯ve retracted my hand from the circle, Rolly approaches and drops into the glass, treating the drink like a bath. The creature trills, yellow skin shifting to a deep brown.

    ¡°Good stuff?¡±

    ¡°Yeeeeahhh.¡±

    ¡°The food is just as good.¡±

    One of Rolly¡¯s closed eyes opens a fraction. ¡°And what will you ask of me for all this bounty?¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°I ask for your company and your loyalty.¡±

    ¡°Sounds simple but details? From the looks of this circle, I can tell you know enough about my kind to know I won¡¯t fight for you. And I¡¯d rather not be a jester again. I love theater as much as anyone else but entertaining people night after night gets a little exhausting.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to fight. I may ask you to put on a performance every now and again, within reason. Mainly, I want you for your knowledge. I and my companion need training. I¡¯d also like your opinion on a few matters I¡¯m researching, including other summons.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quite greedy for elementals. Are you one of those? The kind that can¡¯t get along with their own race and makes friends with anything that¡¯ll have them? I¡¯m not judging. It¡¯s all fine as long as you aren¡¯t having conversations with things that don¡¯t talk back.¡±

    ¡°I get along with humans just fine. There¡¯s two behind us.¡±

    ¡°Are there? Oh, yes. Very nice.¡±

    I preen as if I¡¯m the one being complimented. ¡°You have an appreciation for female beauty, huh?¡± As expected of my circle. Drew a perfect companion. ¡°We should compare notes.¡±

    ¡°Eh, you need a little more experience. I like ¡®em with at least six arms.¡±

    Wow. What would that even¡­a conversation for later. ¡°You can show me some time. Over a few very strong drinks.¡±

    ¡°Hehe. So? Equal partnership?¡±

    The casual question holds a hint of a demand. I want to oblige but I can¡¯t. Suppose it¡¯s time to be a little unfriendly. ¡°Subordinate contract.¡±

    ¡°Lou, you meanie. I thought you said you wanted to be my friend.¡±

    ¡°I do¡­as long as I¡¯m in charge.¡±

    ¡°Hm? Are you one of those? A top? Like to crack the whip and make people squirm? You should keep that stuff in the bedroom.¡±

    I swallow a laugh. ¡°More of the opposite. Well, suppose it depends on the mood? Either way, the bedroom¡¯s got nothing to do with this. Come on. Be my subordinate. I¡¯ll treat you well.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what they all say.¡±

    ¡°Say your conditions. I¡¯m not unreasonable.¡±

    ¡°Hm. No ordering me to harm myself or others.¡±

    I frown. ¡°I know that you can¡¯t trust every summoner but I want you to know that I¡¯m the kind of person who¡¯s offended you had to say that out loud. Of course I won¡¯t. Next.¡±

    The brown gains traces of silver. That wasn¡¯t in the record. ¡°You must care for me. Food, drink, lodging, and protection.¡±

    ¡°Nope on the protection. You¡¯re more than capable of protecting yourself.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d let a delicate maiden like me brave this harsh world alone?¡±

    Oh, she¡¯s a girl. Or at least claiming to be one. I¡¯m not sure how to tell. ¡°You won¡¯t. I¡¯ll protect you but I¡¯m not making it a condition of the contract. The last thing I want is to be rendered to ash by the Guardian because you injured yourself flying into a tree.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°Just an example.¡± I have the distinct feeling she¡¯s pouting despite her face being nothing more than swirling colors. Still hard to look at without feeling dizzy. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°No keeping me locked up. I journey to explore and see new things. I don¡¯t want to be chained to your side.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit of a problem¡­how about a vacation? One month every year you can do what you want. I get to say when.¡±

    ¡°Ehhh? What¡¯s the point if I can¡¯t choose myself? What if something interesting is happening and I miss it?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m not unreasonable. If I don¡¯t need you, I¡¯ll let you run off. You don¡¯t even have to take the full month off in one go. But, if I need you, I need you. I can¡¯t compromise on that. Otherwise, I wouldn¡¯t be forming a contract with an elemental.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. You need to work on your trust issues.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that from you.¡±

    ¡°Stingy summoner.¡±

    ¡°Any more conditions?¡±

    ¡°I want to record this journey! Everything about you! And I want to tell the story.¡±

    That could be problematic. ¡°Record what you want but no telling the story until I say.¡±

    ¡°What? What if you never give me permission?¡±

    ¡°I will but not now. It¡¯d be problematic if too many people learned my secrets.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Fine, but you can¡¯t let anyone else tell your story.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I can stop them¡­¡±

    ¡°Just members of my race. And those¡ª" I wince at the sound Rolly makes. ¡°Boring bastards. Most of their stories are stolen from us, you know. I¡¯ve ten siblings they¡¯ve stolen from.¡±

    ¡°I can do that.¡±

    ¡°¡­you promise you¡¯re going to other realms?¡±

    ¡°Eventually.¡±

    ¡°¡­mm. Then, this is too good an opportunity to waste! You¡¯ve got yourself a contract, Lou.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-33

    ¡°One thing first. Alana.¡± I turn and gesture for her to approach. She does so nervously, but I only can tell because I can read her stern expressions. There¡¯s no hesitance in her steps as she comes to my side.

    ¡°Rolly, this is Alana James, someone I hope for you to guide in the use of the light affinity. Alana, this is¡­¡± I consider using Rolly¡¯s full name but quickly discard that idea. ¡°This is Rolly.¡±

    ¡°Hello, hello! You smell a bit like kin. Some light in you?¡±

    After a quick look to me for reassurance, Alana clears her throat and answers. ¡°If you mean my magic, then yes, I have the light affinity.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Then? What¡¯s your story? A misunderstood mercenary who values justice more than gold? Mm, you¡¯re a bit too young for that. A young disavowed noble, fighting to reclaim the honor of her house? Maybe a rebellious daughter happy to flit from one adventure to the next? Huh, what is it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a bit¡­excitable.¡±

    Rolly becomes silver. ¡°Of course I¡¯m excited! Stories are my reason for living. To see, record, inspire, and mayhap live through the next exciting journey is worth everything. Do you understand that? Do you know what it feels like to be doing exactly what you¡¯re meant to be doing?¡±

    ¡°I¡­maybe.¡± She bites her lip, hesitating.

    My hand on her shoulder draws her attention to me. ¡°Remember, you could be together for a long time. Best to be honest. If you¡¯re worried about saying something embarrassing to a stranger, there¡¯s a good chance you¡¯ll never see her again.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Don¡¯t set up such an ending!¡±

    With a heavy sigh, Alana drops to the ground, crossing her ankles. Sensing her mood, Rolly calms down, slowly drifting until she is floating at eye-level with the future saint, still a bright silver. I wonder if it¡¯d be rude to outright ask what all the colors mean? But I also think it might be fun to figure it out myself.

    ¡°For a long time, I thought I had no use at all. Then I thought I had found my purpose. It¡¯s still something I want to do, something I need to do, but it¡­doesn¡¯t hold the same weight it used to.¡±

    She sighs again. ¡°I certainly don¡¯t see myself giving my life for it. Or for him.¡± The last part is grumbled under her breath but she¡¯s kidding herself if she thinks no one heard her.

    ¡°Then a sword seeking a cause. Mm, mm. We can work with this.¡±

    ¡°¡­what does my story have to do with teaching me magic?¡±

    ¡°Everything! Characters in different stories have different skills! The unstoppable soldier with a sword of blinding light, the unseen assassin, the concubine who weaves beguiling illusions.¡±

    ¡°¡­is there a reason I can¡¯t learn it all?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d take years and you do smell human.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s got time,¡± I state vaguely, dodging Alana¡¯s questioning gaze.

    ¡°Hmm. Then, I suppose you can but it¡¯s good to have a focus. Have you learned a trade? Or an art?¡±

    ¡°I practice the sword.¡±

    ¡°Okay! So, by learning a role, you learn skills that complement each other in an order that makes sense. For a sword, you learn to chop, block, then counter. Trying to learn multiple roles would be like learning how to chop, yodel, then breed fish.¡±

    Alana blinks. ¡°Breed fish?¡±

    ¡°Water world stuff. I¡¯ve seen stranger things. Anyway! It¡¯s not just about the skills. It¡¯s about using them. There¡¯s no point in teaching you to hide yourself if you¡¯re the type who likes to run headfirst into danger. No point teaching you illusions if you lack imagination. The same goes for fighting styles. Clothes. Speeches.¡±

    ¡°What do clothes and speeches have to do with it?!¡±

    ¡°A hero needs a proper image!¡±

    ¡°¡­when did I say I¡¯d be a hero?¡±

    ¡°Eh, you¡¯ve got that look about you. Although, your companions do raise a few questions.¡± Rolly pointedly looks past us to where Kierra has Miss Talia seated in her lap and is shamelessly fondling her. ¡°Is that it? The only righteous voice in a band of degenerates? An interesting take on the usual story.¡±

    ¡°Are you including me in the degenerates?¡± I ask. She¡¯s not wrong but I want to know what she¡¯s basing it off, seeing as I haven¡¯t had the opportunity to oust myself.

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve got that smell about you.¡±

    What are you smelling? And what are you using to smell it with?

    ¡°Pfft.¡±

    What are you laughing about? You¡¯re the one stuck with the degenerates. I should be laughing as I¡¯ve finally got you in my clutches.

    ¡°Lou¡­I think that¡¯s enough.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Have I met your standards? This humble traveler is honored! I will repay your grace by transforming you into the greatest light this world has ever seen¡­probably.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Alana turns toward me, her previous tension replaced by a small smile. ¡°She loves the sound of her own voice¡ª¡±

    ¡°Guilty!¡±

    ¡°¡ªand I think I¡¯m developing a headache but¡­I¡¯ve got a good feeling. Actually, she, uh¡­¡± She pauses, pointedly looking away from me. ¡°Kind of reminds me of you.¡±

    Aww, can she be any cuter?

    Rolly flashes yellow. ¡°Ehehe, I¡¯ve got a good feeling about you too, young hero. But you should thank the summoner. A good circle brings two like-minded travelers together. The invitation was irresistible.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it like? The¡­invitation. Did you see this room from your realm? Or¡­¡±

    Rolly crosses her arms over her chest. Her very flat chest. How is she a she? She doesn¡¯t even have anything down there, it¡¯s as smooth as her chest.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see the room. The most we get are impressions. I could feel the good cheer, smell the goodies on the tables, and I heard the faintest traces of a beautiful voice. All of that was wrapped up in an impression of the summoner.¡±

    Her featureless face turns to me. ¡°An unbridled personality steeped in mystery promising adventure. It was more than enough to make me curious.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Lou, do you also get these impressions?¡±

    ¡°Nothing of the sort. I have to trust in the circle. It¡¯s why it¡¯s so important. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve summoned until it¡¯s standing in front of you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, summoners are all crazy. If they accidentally summon something too strong for their circle, they¡¯re dead. Then there¡¯s always the chance a lurker will hijack the summoning and kill everything in sight. Nasty creatures.¡±

    I freeze. ¡°What in the Abyss is a lurker?¡± Did she just say it can intrude on a summoning? Any summoning?!

    ¡°Ah, I can answer all your questions once the contract is done. I¡¯m hungry, you know? And that honey smells wonderful. Come on, Lou. Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    If she were a lot bigger and not so flat, those words might have done something for me.

    ¡°Hey, you just thought something rude, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re imagining things.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the little details. Come on, you¡¯ve got an oath to swear.¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡± Rolly¡¯s wings hum as she flies up. She raises her arms and looks toward the ceiling. ¡°Great Guardian of Dimensions, once more your follower seeks your blessing as I swear an oath in your name. I seek a contract with this summoner. I swear to be a loyal and faithful companion, to obey her will with the exceptions we have mentioned. I do so willing, knowing that going against this vow will cost me everything that I am. Bless this contract and may our journey be a story passed down through the generations.¡±

    Undoubtedly a creature with a love for theater. ¡°I accept your vow. Take my mana as your own and we will be bound henceforth.¡±

    The lueorale slowly floats to the edge of the circle and places her feet on the edge. The mana in the white stone dims as it enters her body. The moment the bond between us is formed, Rolly disappears.

    My head snaps around to find her suddenly hovering over the bowl of honey. She dips her hand into it, groaning as she samples it. ¡°Oh, yes. Did they feed these bees **** ambrosia? This can rival the ***. Doesn¡¯t hold a light to the **** though. Ah, but maybe with a bit of instruction¡­hey, Lou! Ever thought of raising bees?¡±

    ¡°No, but feel free to.¡± She just spoke in at least three different languages that sound nothing like words. A part of me is interested but most of me is thinking what a pain it would be to try and learn them. Can I even make those sounds? I don¡¯t think so.

    ¡°I might, I might. I¡¯ve got a cousin who¡¯s into that. Best mounts in the realm.¡±

    Mounts? Ah, she is small. But not small enough to ride a bee. Unless¡­how big are the bees she¡¯s talking about?

    While my new companion is engaged in the honey, she doesn¡¯t notice Kierra and Miss Talia walking up to her. Miss Talia¡¯s expression gives nothing away but her interest is clear from her open eyes, a rare sight, as she examines the creature. My wife stands at her shoulder, smiling softly.

    Eventually, Rolly looks up from the honey, jumping as she sees Miss Talia. ¡°Oh! Huh. Are those *****? Er, the closest translation would be, hm, mana sight, I think. First time seeing those on a human.¡±

    ¡°It is also my first time seeing a creature like you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard our kind looks funny to those eyes. You should turn them off before you make yourself sick.¡±

    The dorm mother freezes. The whole room freezes, in fact. Even the succubi.

    Rolly looks between our stunned faces. At least, her face turns toward each of us in turn. ¡°Hm? Hmmm? Oh, surely you knew you could turn them off? You¡¯re not one of those starchilds swimming in the primordial soup of creation. The sight is supposed to be a boon. One could hardly call it that if it blinds you to the material world.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Miss Talia asks with the most emotion I¡¯ve heard from her to date. Saints, she almost sounds¡­normal.

    ¡°Eh? You really¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rolly.¡± The lueorale turns to me and I give a sharp shake of my head. This may seem silly to her but this a life-changing moment for Miss Talia.

    ¡°Oh, fine. It¡¯s simple. Just channel your mana through your eyes. You¡¯re not expending the mana so it doesn¡¯t take anything more than concentration. Hah. You should have learned this as a child. By now, you wouldn¡¯t even have to think about it.¡±

    Miss Talia ignores the elemental¡¯s criticisms, closing her eyes. We all wait in tense silence for several minutes until she opens her eyes again. They look the same but I can tell something is different. The way she looks about the room, lips slightly parted and eyes wide, says it all. Then something amazing happens.

    She smiles. A full smile, showing teeth and wrinkling the skin at the ends of her mouth. It even reaches her eyes, their ends crinkling too. It¡¯s a perfectly average smile, nothing special about it, but somehow, it¡¯s almost blinding. I reflexively squint as I stare at her. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d swear she has the light affinity.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°As quiet as ever lily. What an auspicious start to our journey together, little lightfly. May you continue to bring prosperity to our clan.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-34

    Three days until we leave for the north.

    Things are a bit hectic around the estate as we finish the last of our preparations. A lot has to be considered. Clothes, foodstuffs, weapons, and transportation all have to be seen to. If we were a part of a group, we would have an easier time as they have people who do this kind of thing, allowing the fighters to solely focus on fighting.

    As it is, we are entirely reliant on our own selves for survival. We don¡¯t even have the cushion of buying anything we forget. According to Alana, Fort Victory is not exactly overflowing with commodities on a good day. As they are about to undertake a massive militaristic endeavor, things are likely to be scarce.

    Thankfully, my household is full of competent people. Between the succubi and Kierra, we won¡¯t lack for food, water, shelter, or weapons. Thanks to my deal with Howie, we¡¯ll also have plenty of drink, and with Rolly, there¡¯ll be plenty of entertainment outside the fighting. However, that isn¡¯t the extent of my preparations.

    After all, I¡¯m not marching into the Bleak Peaks to play soldier. I¡¯m going there to make my mark. To do what no other has been able to do before.

    I want to create a foothold in the Peaks. Build a fortified outpost that will serve as a staging ground for future campaigns. The first step in conquering the unconquerable land.

    While I am quite confident in our chances, no one else will be. Perhaps I might convince them if I revealed all my secrets but that¡¯s the last thing I want to do. Unfortunately, with no chance of others investing in my plans, I have to source all the resources for this outpost myself.

    Bell can rival, and likely outperform, any earth caster in the kingdom, but even she has her limits. Creating a whole building that is sturdy enough to withstand harsh weather and harsher monsters from nothing is asking too much. Especially if we have to defend ourselves while doing so.

    Bringing the materials should makes things easier on my virtue posing as an imp but it brings its own complications. Rather than a single carriage, I¡¯ll be traveling with a whole caravan worth of wagons.

    That¡¯s a lot to be dragging around and protecting. Not to mention all the beast power needed to move heavy building materials. Regular old horses aren¡¯t going to do the trick once we¡¯re past the mountains. I need special beasts of burden that are strong enough to walk through the snow, won¡¯t be bothered by the cold, and won¡¯t startle with something nipping on their heels.

    All troublesome, but not impossible. The Guiness sisters were more than happy to empty their warehouse for my needs. Cloud managed a small miracle getting me enough horses to pull my small caravan. She¡¯ll join me on the journey to Fort Victory and see them back.

    Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t convince the Sanctuary to give us mounts capable of surviving the cold. Too few of the beasties, I suppose, as no amount of gold could sway them, even amounts we¡¯d need years to pay off. I¡¯m hoping there¡¯s some to spare in Victory.

    Cloud has agreed to stay long enough to help me select proper beasts, being more knowledgeable of such things. She plays it off as being curious about the famous fort but I can tell she¡¯s worried.

    Then of course are the preparations for the house. Mainly the gardens, their care and protection.

    My servants are quite capable but too many have convinced themselves that Kierra is growing alchemical gold. Whether she is or isn¡¯t, with the dragon away, some greedy bastard is going to raid her stash for treasure.

    Earl is good, disturbing so, but he can¡¯t fight off a coordinated assault from multiple casters. I don¡¯t want to expose him or Anna to that kind of danger anyway.

    Thankfully, Miss Talia has agreed to stay at the house. To my astonishment, she¡¯s asked to be released from her role as a dorm mother. Just like that, she¡¯s cutting ties to the Hall, the interrogators, her mentor, and the crown to become¡­our flower.

    I almost can¡¯t believe it. At most, I expected to steal her away on the odd weekend, perhaps a few evenings. She had a whole life before us and a bright future with a wealth of options.

    I also have no illusions as to her feelings for me. Rather, her lack of them. I¡¯m confident enough to say she doesn¡¯t detest my company, and on an arrogant day, I¡¯d go so far as to say she enjoys it. Nothing more. I have my doubts she can feel more, though that seems discourteous.

    Despite that, she gave everything up with a decisiveness that left me speechless. The bridges haven¡¯t been burned. I¡¯m sure if she asked to rejoin the staff, Dunwayne would be quick to accept her. Her previous mentor would probably be quicker to welcome her into the interrogators.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    It is still a monumental choice. I guess regaining her sight blew away any hesitance she might have had about my household. Another secret we¡¯re keeping. Haha, I¡¯m sure Miss Talia is having fun observing people who think she¡¯s blind. There¡¯s no telling what people have been doing that¡¯s now going to be exposed.

    As for maintaining the garden, with the help of the succubi, an artifact will make sure the plants survive the cold. The crisscrossing arches of black stone are certainly eye-catching, the red fire affinity stones socketed into them even more so, but it¡¯s not worth enough for people to risk stealing them, I think. Not with our reputations. They¡¯d also be pissing off the Guiness family, who we¡¯re renting them from.

    One of the first things I¡¯m going to do once I return is investigate Geneva¡¯s idea of trading through different realms for rare materials.

    The Guiness¡¯ favor toward my wife only extends so far. A merchant values nothing over profit. As such, we paid full price for those stones. The only reason we aren¡¯t destitute is because we didn¡¯t try to buy them outright.

    The succubi know how to create artifacts but paying for the materials for anything useful will kill us, financially. As always, summoning is the answer.

    There¡¯re also the winter assignments. Geneva won¡¯t be around to continue the servant¡¯s educations. I was fine giving them a break but the succubus doesn¡¯t believe in such. I did talk her into going easy on them.

    Their assignments are more leisure activities than anything else. Sewing for Anna, reading for Earl, and preparing useful plants from the garden for Gajin. Nomad¡­he¡¯s fine.

    I¡¯m looking over the wagons gathered in the back when I hear rapid footsteps approaching. A glance over my shoulder reveals Anna rushing toward me, several golden balls of fluff trailing her.

    During the qualifiers, I picked up a strange manabeast called a flockett. Small creature, smaller than my hand. Nearly as round as a ball with soft golden fur and big eyes.

    The one I picked up happened to be carrying a full litter of young in its belly. On a whim, I brought it home. Little girls and cute animals suit each other so I passed the fluffy bundle to Anna to take care of. A nuisance out of my hair and a friend for the girl who is woefully lacking in beings to socialize with.

    They¡¯ve been getting on well, especially since Cloud started teaching her. Some might think it irresponsible to deliver the girl into the hands of a woman who practically worships monsters and genuinely wants to become one, but Cloud is a good, honest person, no matter her peculiarities.

    Besides, Anna was well on that path without any help. At least now she has a guide.

    She skids to stop in front of me, her open jacket billowing behind her before settling down. Hm. She¡¯s a bit too active to be in full uniform like those in the house. The jacket is already filthy. Perhaps I can have something easier to move in made. Anna is hardly going to settle down.

    ¡°Good morning, Lady Lou.¡±

    I reflexively smile. ¡°Morning. I see you¡¯ve been practicing your greetings.¡±

    ¡°Mm! Good?¡±

    ¡°Very good, very good.¡± I ruffle the haystack atop her head. ¡°You had a message for me?¡±

    ¡°Visitors. Two men. Arty and Bert.¡±

    Arty and Bert? Hm, the first is probably Arthur. I can¡¯t imagine anyone else whose name could be shortened such a way and would be visiting me. Who in the Abyss is Bert? I know I¡¯m terrible with names but I could swear I¡¯ve never met anyone like that.

    ¡°I suppose I can take a break. Has Earl prepared tea?¡±

    She nods her head.

    ¡°Alright. Remind Gajin he has until tomorrow to finish packing the herbs and edible plants from the garden.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    I give her head one more ruffle before heading into the house, stepping around crates and barrels. We retrieved Howie¡¯s stash of drinks yesterday and the wagons are arriving tomorrow. Until then, the house is a little crowded.

    Geneva¡¯s been using the clutter as a make-shift obstacle course for the children with assistance from Rolly. Really, that succubus knows how to turn anything to her favor.

    Kierra loved the idea and now Alana runs through the house with the sadistic elf chasing her at least once every hour. It¡¯s more than a little amusing.

    Two young men are seated in my living room. One of them I would reluctantly call a friend, though even I have to admit, he¡¯s much easier to be around after his ¡°fun time¡± with Geneva.

    Arthur is no longer the crude, scruffy, perverted pirate-son he used to be. Instead, he is a cold, morose, sharp-eyed bastard. The disgusting smile that used to come so easily to him hasn¡¯t graced his lips once since he willingly let Geneva toy with his mind.

    Poor idiot thought he was going to have some freaky sex. Instead, she tortured him for ten years inside a false reality.

    A part of me feels guilty. I warned him, several times. Far too many times. I gave her rules so she didn¡¯t utterly destroy him. I even made sure he wasn¡¯t injured. He emerged from his ordeal without so much as a scratch.

    But whatever he went through, I only have the barest details, it left its mark. He¡¯s matured. Very, very fast and not through positive learning experiences. Pain matured him. The last time I saw him, he was lost, incredibly so. Combined with his new quiet countenance and my lingering guilt, I¡¯m not as opposed to his company as usual.

    The other one is very much unwelcome yet he seems to come around more than my supposed friends. Once again, Mr. Four Affinities has graced my house with his presence. Not too far from the suppressed agitation during his last visit, he looks distinctly uncomfortable.

    Bad memories, perhaps? Geneva assures me he remembers only faint impressions of his episode when he reacted to my pheromones but maybe something in him is reacting.

    His survival instincts? He¡¯s certainly putting himself in danger. For some reason, unfortunate things tend to happen to the future Harvest Hero in my presence. Mainly brought on by himself.

    They turn to me as I enter the room. Mr. Talented gets to his feet. ¡°Lady Tome, thank you for seeing me.¡±

    Arthur simply nods.

    ¡°Afternoon.¡± I take a seat across from them, waving for the future hero to relax. ¡°What can I do for you today?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-35

    Mr. Talented turns to Arthur but the pirate-son doesn¡¯t bother to acknowledge the glance, maintaining his slight frown and furrowed brows. The future hero clears his throat self-consciously before turning back to me. ¡°The Squires asked me to check on your preparations. You may not be an official member of our group but as fellow acolytes, it¡¯s only right that we look out for one another.¡±

    ¡°¡­the who?¡±

    He looks at me in disbelief. ¡°The Grand Squires. It¡¯s what we call ourselves. You know, after the old practice of knights training individual disciples before the orders? It¡¯s on all our invitations.¡± At my continuing incomprehension, he sighs. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I was sent to check on you. Are your preparations going well?¡±

    ¡°Why are these squid people interested?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± He pauses to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. ¡°They are concerned whether you have made adequate preparations. This is your first campaign and the Bleak Peaks are very dangerous. If you are not prepared, you can die within a day.¡±

    ¡°Speaking from experience, are you?¡±

    ¡°This is also my first experience but there are senior acolytes amongst the squires and we are being advised by one of the foundation instructors.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Well, I don¡¯t have an instructor looking over my work but I¡¯m confident in my preparations, thank you.¡±

    ¡°I have with me a checklist. If you like, I can go over your supplies with you¡ª¡±

    ¡°No need.¡±

    He pauses. ¡°The Squires have also extended an invitation for you to travel with us.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Sure about that? I¡¯m anticipating at least one or two groups to try and take my head. Your squids can get caught up in the danger.¡±

    ¡°I explained that to the commander. He agreed that with us escorting you, the hunters are less likely to make an attempt.¡± The future hero glares at me. ¡°He agrees that there shouldn¡¯t be any more deaths.¡±

    Wow. What kind of idiot calls himself commander when leading a bunch of baby acolytes? But, hm. This has potential.

    While I don¡¯t relish spending weeks in Mr. Talented¡¯s company, having him and his friends as meatshields should the hunters try their luck is appealing. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll tag along. But I have to warn you, I¡¯m bringing a little more than a single wagon.¡±

    ¡°¡­how many are you bringing?¡±

    Geneva, what was the count for the wagons?

    [Sixteen.]

    ¡°Sixteen.¡±

    ¡°Six¡ª" I chuckle as he swears. ¡°By the saints, what do you need sixteen wagons for?¡±

    ¡°Waging a war takes resources.¡±

    ¡°Not that many!¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re planning to survive, sure, you can pack all you need in one wagon, maybe two. But you see, Mr. Legend, I¡¯m not preparing to survive. I¡¯m preparing to win.¡±

    ¡°What¡­what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. Since we¡¯re traveling together, we need to coordinate our schedules.¡±

    ¡°¡­we plan to move out on Restday, sixth bell.

    I¡¯ve gained an extra day then. ¡°Where should we meet up?¡±

    ¡°In the Grand Market, by the lifts. We plan to do final checks before we leave and a few of the instructors want to say a few words.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll see you then.¡±

    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll, uh, see myself out.¡± Mr. Talented leaves the living room with a slightly perplexed look on his face. I wonder if it¡¯s because we just had a cordial meeting. It¡¯s a first and I admit, thoroughly unexpected.

    He didn¡¯t spout any uncalled-for insults or make any disparaging insinuations, got to the point, and left before he overstayed his meagre welcome. Saints, if the boy is this reasonable in the future, we might become benign acquaintances. Who¡¯d have thought?

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    As the front door closes, I fix myself a cup of tea. It¡¯s lukewarm but a quick spell fixes that. ¡°And? Are you going to say something?¡±

    Arthur glances at me. ¡°That boy despises you. I can see it every time he looks your way.¡±

    ¡°As long as he controls himself, I can control myself. I tolerated you, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    He grunts in acknowledgement. ¡°My father wants me to head east but I can¡¯t waste an entire season.¡± His eyes glow. ¡°What your creature did¡­in many ways, it was horrifying and painful, but it kept true to your words. For everything I suffered, I also gained. Yet, that is also torture. To know what it means to be strong and then be returned to this pitiful state.¡±

    He clenches a hand into a tight fist before relaxing. ¡°I want to reclaim that strength, for real this time. I¡¯m not going to get there sitting on my ass, wallowing in self-pity. One thing holds true after my ordeal. I still think my best bet is to throw in with you.¡± He smirks. ¡°Permission to come aboard, captain?¡±

    I eye him. It¡¯s Arthur. I should laugh in his face and throw him out on his ear. But I can¡¯t deny that he¡¯s changed. He¡¯s cleaned himself up, robbed some manners, and, saints witness, I dare say he¡¯s treating me with respect.

    Real respect, not the begrudging acknowledgment that he better watch his mouth or I¡¯ll bludgeon him.

    It is a lot of wagons. Having an extra pair of eyes I can relatively trust on them couldn¡¯t hurt. And his situation is partially my fault. ¡°What was it you were muttering about? Being the king of the west?¡±

    I swear there¡¯s a gleam in his eyes. ¡°Are you opposed?¡±

    ¡°Saints, no. You want the coast, you can have it. Sounds absolutely horrible anyway.¡± What do I care about a beach when I¡¯ve got my eyes on other worlds? ¡°Just as long as you understand you¡¯re still my lackey, crown or no crown.¡±

    He laughs. ¡°Already used to that. If it¡¯s one thing that creature taught me, it¡¯s that there¡¯s always a bigger fish in the sea. I¡¯m happy as long as I have my share.¡±

    ¡°I want to go on about how I expect you to clean yourself up and act with at least a bit of decorum¡­but that¡¯s not really necessary, is it?¡±

    ¡°I outgrew that kind of behavior long ago.¡± He frowns. ¡°Cheh. That never gets less annoying. What I mean is that the creature showed me the folly of my behavior. Behaving like an animal is not a testament of freedom or power, but a show of stupidity. A good image is as useful as a fearsome reputation.¡±

    What is this strange feeling? It reminds me of watching the young boys in the village practice ridiculous attempts at sword skills with wooden sticks, whooping and cheering when one of their fellows gets it right. Or watching a dog perform a trick.

    It¡¯s amusement mixed liberally with indulgence and¡­maybe a hint of pride. Saints.

    ¡°And? What are you carrying you don¡¯t want Mr. Upright to know about and is it dangerous? And do you mind bringing out something other than tea? Never took a liking to it.¡±

    Bell, bring a bottle and two glasses. I¡¯m not insensitive enough to flaunt Geneva in front of him. ¡°What makes you think there¡¯s anything in the wagons?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not reckless, Lou. There¡¯s no reason to turn down advice from those more experienced, especially when it comes to something as dangerous as the campaigns. You don¡¯t like him but you don¡¯t hate him. Certainly not enough to turn down help. Only thing I can think of is you¡¯re bringing something you don¡¯t want him, or his squiddies, to know about.¡±

    He looks away as Bell enters with a tray. He takes it from the imp and pours us both a glass of Herbanacle. ¡°Ah. In my¡­false life, after I imprisoned you, I guzzled down your stash and couldn¡¯t get my hands on another bottle.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t go to Howie?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s whoever is responsible for its creation? Hm. I don¡¯t remember clearly. Many of the less important memories are fading. Anyway, are you going to tell me what you¡¯re taking to the north?¡±

    ¡°Nothing nefarious.¡±

    ¡°Valuable?¡±

    ¡°Depends on the person. I¡¯m planning on dragging along enough drink to get an entire army drunk, so that¡¯s valuable. The rest¡­eh. I suppose but it¡¯d be a pain if someone stole it. Besides, I don¡¯t think, eh, Bert and his band of merry men are going to rob me. I just don¡¯t want them poking their noses into my business.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡°I told him, didn¡¯t I? I¡¯m going there to win.¡±

    Arthur sips his drink and pours a refill. ¡°To win¡­you think you can push back the armies of the winter lords and claim land beyond the Bleak Peaks. Then those wagons are building materials.¡±

    I let my smile answer him.

    ¡°You¡¯re insane. Then again, I already knew that. You¡¯d have to be to go around with that horrible creature.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not so bad when she¡¯s magically sworn to obey your every order and cannot harm you.¡±

    ¡°Stars and seas. Maybe I should learn summoning.¡±

    I lean forward excitedly. ¡°Are you interested? I know plenty of interesting water elementals.¡±

    ¡°Close your sails, woman. I said maybe.¡±

    ¡°Cheh.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot to cover with a handful of people. Have you thought of hiring some help?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± It¡¯s common sense for caravans to be escorted by large armed forces, whether they be a trading house¡¯s personal forces, knights, or hunters. ¡°But for every pair of extra hands, that¡¯s another mouth to feed, a body to shelter, and a coin purse expecting to be filled. My house will guard the most valuable stuff. The rest of it, eh. It¡¯d be very annoying to lose any cargo but it¡¯s far from irreplaceable. Besides, it¡¯ll only happen once.¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯ll make a horrible example out of anyone who does attack you.¡±

    ¡°And no one will have the daring to do it again. My wife is looking forward to it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve signed yourself up for a world of trouble with that one.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll learn the joys of marriage one of these days. Ah, wait. Didn¡¯t you say something about being married?¡±

    Instead of answering, he downs the rest of his glass and stands up. ¡°See you Restday.¡±

    I¡¯m not so boorish as to force an answer from him. ¡°See to your own supplies. If you¡¯re lacking in money, tell Earl.¡±

    ¡°Generous.¡±

    ¡°Try to take anything you don¡¯t need and I¡¯ll recoup my losses in blood.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-36

    ¡°We have a problem, Lady Tome.¡±

    I have several problems. Not least of which is the presence of Aurelius in my house once again. However, it¡¯d make things more complicated if I kicked him out. I¡¯m not afraid of a confrontation. On the contrary, I¡¯d welcome one and wouldn¡¯t hesitate if he were the only concern. Unfortunately, the instructor didn¡¯t come alone.

    Seated beside him on one of my couches is a stern looking man dressed in a neatly buttoned blue jacket with white trim. His dark hair is combed back and his shoes are polished to a shine. A fitting appearance for the messenger of a city lord.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem,¡± I say after a long drink of my tea, enjoying making them wait. They don¡¯t have their own beverages to preoccupy their idling hands as I have no intention of showing hospitality to the bald bastard or the lackey sent to trouble me.

    ¡°Allow me to make things plain, then.¡± Aurelius struggles to keep his features blank but I have too low of an opinion of the man to imagine he isn¡¯t enjoying this.

    ¡°The lord is investigating the matter involving the guilds carefully. There is evidence to suggest a struggle at the bar owned by the man known as Howie. It lends credit to your claim that you were attempting to rescue your acquaintance. However, there is still the question about appropriate force.¡±

    ¡°If Mr. Howie was a member of your house or a recorded servant,¡± the messenger continues, ¡°there would be little question of you taking personal action to ensure his safety. He is neither of these things. Essentially, he is an acquaintance.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying I can¡¯t care about him because he isn¡¯t related to me closely enough?¡± I ask in disbelief.

    The messenger frowns. ¡°The world is full of misfortune. It is commendable to abhor injustice but we cannot have casters dispensing justice as they see fit. Otherwise, what is the point of the law?

    ¡°Asking someone to refrain when their family is in danger is asking for too much, especially from those of ability. We¡¯ve learned to be¡­understanding about such things. This was not family or someone under your protection. This was the man who poured your drinks and you killed a guildmaster.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°He was under my protection. I made it very clear that if they attacked Howie, they would answer to me so they can¡¯t pretend they didn¡¯t know they would be involving me. I¡¯d go as far as to say they were targeting me.¡±

    ¡°Lady Tome, please be reasonable.¡±

    ¡°Reasonable?¡± I set down my cup and lean forward. ¡°Let mebe clear about something. I only had to resort to such extreme action because of the incompetence of the city guard, the lord¡¯s men. Howie¡¯s barmaid went to them first and they were very reluctant to act.

    ¡°Even when the hunters tried to dispense some of their own justice outside the Torchbearers¡¯ guild hall, the city guard retreated rather than quell the rioting hunters. How am I supposed to trust in the law when it balks at the slightest sign of trouble?¡±

    The messenger narrows his eyes at the insults I¡¯m slinging at the city guards and, by extension, his master. ¡°I would warn you about treating this matter lightly. Several people have died. A guildmaster is dead. You are responsible for these deaths. If the lord is not satisfied by your reasoning, you can be imprisoned or executed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. But of course, he would have to find men brave enough to try.¡±

    ¡°The hunters would be more than willing to undertake the task. If you think your status as an acolyte of the Hall will protect you, you¡¯re sadly mistaken.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already explained the Hall¡¯s position,¡± Aurelius adds.

    ¡°Yes, the Hall will not stand in your way but they certainly won¡¯t help. Unless that¡¯s changed?¡±

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    The instructor¡¯s narrowed eyes tells me he wishes it had. ¡°Correct. The Hall does not involve itself in Quest¡¯s matters and vice versa.¡±

    ¡°Looks like this is between me and you, messenger boy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡ª¡±

    ¡°When you return to your master, make sure you express my displeasure with him for wasting my time. I expected you came here to continue your investigation and welcomed you in like a good citizen of the crown. Instead, you sit there¡­actually, what are you doing? You¡¯ve said a whole lot of nothing and I¡¯m more than ready for you to get to the point.¡±

    The messenger bristles. ¡°I am here to warn you against leaving the Hall. Trying to flee can be taken as a sign of guilt.¡±

    ¡°Or it could be taken as an innocent person being too busy to waste her time while you all chase your tails. You have my statement. You don¡¯t need me here.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to be here to defend yourself?¡±

    ¡°Why should I need to defend myself? The truth will do that for me.¡±

    ¡°¡­there is no distance great enough to escape the king¡¯s law.¡±

    There really is. I doubt anyone¡¯s going to chase me down to another continent. ¡°If you think I¡¯m running, I¡¯m not. I¡¯ll return by mid-winter, spring at the latest. Straight to Quest. Hopefully by then, you¡¯ll have reached a decision.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we will have.¡±

    The messenger¡¯s tone is vaguely threatening but I ignore it. I haven¡¯t met this lord but I know he¡¯s a coward. Otherwise, the hunters wouldn¡¯t have disparaged the city guard so openly. There is no chance he will bar me from leaving.

    There is a chance the lord deems me guilty. After all, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s under significant pressure from the guilds to do so. Not to mention, no noble wants a dangerous caster they can¡¯t control in their territory.

    He won¡¯t even have to risk his men detaining me if he waits until I leave. If he declares me a fugitive, a bounty can be put on my head. Knights and hunters from across the kingdom will try their hand at taking me down. If I prove too much of a nuisance, the crown could get involved.

    Which I¡¯m not concerned about in the least. If he really tries something so cowardly, I will simply have the decision appealed by the crown. I want to see them detain a war hero.

    ¡­on the off chance the king loses his mind, there¡¯s always the elven continent.

    ¡°If that¡¯s all?¡± The most polite dismissal I can muster.

    In response, the messenger rises stiffly, Aurelius following him. ¡°We won¡¯t take up any more of your time, Lady Tome.¡±

    ¡°My steward will see you out,¡± I say dismissively as Earl appears in the doorway.

    As they make their way out of the room, Geneva enters. ¡°A good meeting, my summoner?¡±

    ¡°Useless posturing. The lord is trying to gauge my intent, I think. Sending a messenger to blow hot air in my face to see if I jump. Really. If he wanted to scare me, he should have dragged me from the house in chains.¡± That¡¯s what I would have done.

    ¡°You are not bound by mortal considerations or laws.¡±

    ¡°There you go again with dangerous talk.¡± Dangerous talk that may be working. I can¡¯t deny that my first response to the messenger showing up on my door was annoyance mixed with disdain. Not for a moment was I worried or respectful of Quest¡¯s lord or his authority.

    ¡°It¡¯s true. The stronger you become, the less such a flimsy thing as the law matters. You knew as much before you gained power.¡±

    ¡°True.¡± I rise from my seat. ¡°Are my wives done with their fun for the day?¡±

    ¡°They will be done soon.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I¡¯ll run a bath then. Be sure to mention that to Alana.¡± I know exactly how harsh Kierra¡¯s attentions can be. Have to keep the future saint properly motivated. ¡°Where¡¯s Rolly?¡±

    Geneva chuckles. ¡°She is busy teaching Gajin how to properly embody his role.¡±

    ¡°I see. And his role is¡­¡±

    ¡°A creepy hermit who imparts valuable knowledge and renders unexpected aid.¡±

    ¡°Huh? How can he be a hermit when he lives on an estate with an entire household?¡±

    ¡°Rolly constantly asserts it is the spirit of the actor that matters most to the performance.¡±

    ¡°¡­as long as she¡¯s happy, I suppose. How is the menu for the journey?¡±

    ¡°Quite well. We are not spoiled for choice as I can keep the food from degrading. I think we will be the envy of the camp.¡±

    I chuckle imagining the face of the other acolytes once we stop for the night and they break out their dry rations while the scent of Geneva¡¯s cooking spreads through their midst. ¡°Make sure to add extra stock. Since we¡¯ll be traveling with a large group, our pace will probably be slowed.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Not going to tell me that you¡¯ve already handled it?¡± I imagine she has.

    ¡°That would be a waste. It is important for you to consider these things. As amusing as having a puppet for a summoner would be, we are destined for more than that.¡± She grins viciously. ¡°I would like to be assured of your ability to fend for yourself should the day come when you need me to act for you in another place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about the mess in the capital. We can talk about it in detail later but have the succubi evacuated?¡±

    ¡°All material wealth has been removed, along with the key members of the Mason family.¡±

    ¡°Mm. And if I asked you to provide political pressure on the king in case this stupid lord tries to cause trouble?¡±

    Her smile widens. ¡°The king will not be an obstacle.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-37

    ¡°Mm. A good day to travel.¡±

    Contrary to my peaceful contemplation of the gloomy sky, the house is a scene of controlled chaos. The bulk of the supplies have been loaded. Everything being added now are last minute requests.

    There¡¯s also the hassle of harnessing and keeping control of the many beasts needed to pull the wagons. Cloud has it well under control with assistance from Anna and Kierra, but they are still making quite a racket.

    Earl and Gajin are checking the wagons are secure. The succubi are ¡°cleaning house¡±, even though the house is always spotless. The air is full of movement and excitement.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    I turn at Alana¡¯s call. Her face is set in a stern mask, speaking to her nerves. My wife, pending, is not eager to return to her home. Less eager to see her father. I¡¯m convinced it won¡¯t be a happy reunion.

    How unhappy it is depends on the good Duke James. For his sake, I hope his heart suddenly swells with fatherly love and he reconciles with his daughter because there is no question whose side I will be on and how far I will go for her.

    ¡°Ready to go?¡±

    ¡°Mm. So are the others. It¡¯s time to get moving.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    I follow her through the house and out the front door, smiling wistfully as I close it behind us. I haven¡¯t spent much time here yet but it holds many of my fondest memories. ¡°I¡¯m going to miss this place,¡± I mumble but it¡¯s loud enough Alana hears me.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be back in a few months.¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡± Who knows what fate has in store.

    ¡°Stop it. That¡¯s inviting bad luck.¡±

    ¡°Unexpected doesn¡¯t necessarily mean bad. Anyway, let¡¯s get going.¡± I hold out a hand. Alana ignores me, stomping past me toward our carriage.

    Cloud and Kierra are there, my wife leaning against the carriage while the tamer whispers to the horses. Earl and Anna wait by the side, my youngest servant looking distinctively unhappy. I move to ruffle her hair but pause when something under my hand squeaks. A flockett jumps out, catching the shoulder of her jacket and hiding at the base of her neck.

    ¡°Hey, why the long face?¡±

    Anna pouts. ¡°Lady Lou¡­are you leaving us?¡±

    Gah. Those eyes. ¡°Just for a while.¡±

    The little girl¡¯s pout deepens. ¡°Can¡¯t we come?¡±

    ¡°Anna, don¡¯t bother the lady,¡± her brother scolds her gently. ¡°We have a duty here.¡±

    ¡°Your brother is right.¡± I crouch down and meet her eyes. ¡°The two of you have to watch the house while we¡¯re gone. And you have to look after your friends.¡± I eye the flockett cowering against her collar. ¡°They won¡¯t do good in the cold. I know you want to help me but I need you to protect the rest of the family.¡±

    ¡°Family¡­¡± Anna slowly nods her head. She wipes eyes with her sleeve before looking up with determination. ¡°Watch the house.¡±

    Aw. I can¡¯t resist the urge to pick her up under her shoulders, the way I¡¯ve seen some parents do for their children, chuckling at her wide eyes. ¡°How about this? I¡¯ll bring you a souvenir from the north. Would you like that?¡±

    ¡°Souu¡­¡±

    ¡°A gift. Is there anything you¡¯d like?¡±

    Her eyes sparkle. ¡°Bones!¡±

    Eh?

    ¡°There is no need to make that face, honored sister.¡± I turn to Cloud as she approaches, dressed in the same sleeveless black shirt and brown skirt she usually wears.

    Hm. I think I can see a faint amount of hair, or I suppose it would be fur, peeking above the neckline. Sigh. Really hope she doesn¡¯t take this whole transformation too far. Though if I say that aloud, I¡¯d get reprimanded for sticking my opinions where they¡¯re not wanted.

    I may not have any say about what she does with her body, and that¡¯s fine, but no one can fault me for being disappointed.

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    ¡°The flocketts of your household seem to have a liking for bones. She is asking you to bring back treats.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Here I thought the girl had picked up strange tastes from my wife. ¡°Bones it is.¡± I set Anna down and ruffle her hair. ¡°Look forward to it.¡±

    ¡°Mm!¡±

    ¡°And you?¡± The stoic older brother jumps a little as I turn to him. Did he think I would leave him out? He is mature beyond his years and very dependable, but he¡¯s still a kid. He¡¯s looks after my house but I still feel responsible for him. Besides, I don¡¯t think he¡¯s ever gotten a gift from the look he¡¯s giving me.

    ¡°Me, my lady?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you. There¡¯s got to be something you want.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m wholly content with my life.¡±

    This boy. ¡°This is an order. Tell me something that would make you happy.¡±

    His features scrunch up as he struggles to unearth his selfishness because of my order. ¡°If you insist¡­¡±

    ¡°I do. It would be unseemly to force me to repeat an order.¡±

    His shoulders sag. ¡°Then¡­I suppose I would ask for decorations for our room.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Is your pay not enough for a few paintings?¡±

    The boy blushes. Huh. Didn¡¯t think he was still capable of that. ¡°Our pay is more than acceptable. The problem is that I have no confidence in my taste. I would be very grateful if my lady could assist us.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. If that¡¯s what you want.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, my lady.¡±

    ¡°My summoner.¡± Geneva walks up to us with Bell in her arms. ¡°Everything is prepared.¡±

    ¡°It is time,¡± Kierra adds. Alana doesn¡¯t join in on the comments, opening the door to the carriage and climbing inside. Not one for sentimentality, my future saint. At least, not in public when she¡¯s sober.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be off.¡±

    ¡°Good luck, my lady. May you crush your enemies and come back heavy with riches.¡±

    ¡°Luck!¡±

    I flash the kids one more smile before following Kierra into the carriage. On to glory.

    -

    Before glory, there is the tedium that is travel. Our first stop of the day is the Grand Market. My caravan of sixteen wagons garners quite the attention as we settle in open area next to the lifts where several carriages are parked. More than usual and the reason why loiters around them, acolytes dressed in colorful robes and uniform armor.

    I know they¡¯re the group I¡¯m looking for as I spot Mr. Talented amongst them while stepping off the carriage. Alana follows but Kierra stretches out on the bench. ¡°Not coming?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Mm. Best not if we want to leave without issue.¡± She waves for us to leave.

    I shrug and close the door. As I¡¯ve spotted him, Mr. Legend has also noticed us. He breaks away from a conversation he¡¯s having and walks toward us with another man in tow.

    Another acolyte, from the silver robe he wears over his clothes. He has a friendly if completely ordinary face, smiling easily as he approaches us. At a nudge from Alana, I mirror the expression as best as I can despite my dread of the coming conversation.

    ¡°Greetings, you must be Lady Lourianne Tome.¡± The man holds out a hand. ¡°Willowmere¡¯s the name. Most people call me Will. Fifth-year acolyte specializing in messenger magic. I¡¯ll be guiding the acolytes attending the campaign past the Bleak Peaks.¡±

    I take the offered hand, using the opportunity to examine him more closely. His dark hair, dark eyes, and fair complexion are common near the capital but there¡¯s a barely detectable drawl that says he didn¡¯t grow up there. Likely from one of the surrounding villages.

    Is he one of those? A young talent meant to be the hope of his village? His parents and neighbors all contributing to his education in hopes he will pay back his debt of gratitude ten times over?

    ¡°Good to meet you. This is Alana James.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of you. The foundation instructors were all disappointed not to be guiding you next year.¡±

    He extends his hand to her and she gives it a firm shake. ¡°I appreciate the interest but I already have plans for my future.¡±

    ¡°Haha, that so? One of the great things about the Hall, that there. Everyone has their own path. Now.¡± He claps his hands and I fight the urge to frown. I remember my tutors doing the same thing when I was young. Is he treating me like a child? No, no. I shouldn¡¯t hold a common enough gesture against him on our first meeting. I¡¯m not that petty.

    ¡°Quin has already told me that you plan to do your own thing. While I¡¯m not happy about it, I have no right to stand in your way. I hope you won¡¯t hold it against me if I try to change your mind on the long road to the north, haha.¡±

    My lips twitch with the urge to return the smile. I think I understand why he¡¯s in charge. He certainly doesn¡¯t look strong, with his trim build and weak chin, and I doubt someone who specializes in passing messages through magic is going to decimate the monsters past the Bleak Peaks.

    What he does have is a good nature. It practically oozes off him. I stepped off the carriage with the intention of hating him but a few words and I already will admit he doesn¡¯t seem that bad. Maybe even likeable.

    ¡°In the meantime, feel free to ask me or any of the others anything. This will be my third campaign since coming to the Hall. It¡¯s a lot of money in a short amount of time. Dangerous, very dangerous, but a good option for people to make enough for another year¡¯s tuition. There¡¯s no way to truly prepare for the Peaks but I can tell you stories, give you an idea what you¡¯re riding into.¡±

    ¡°I may take you up on that offer.¡±

    ¡°Great! So, a few of the instructors are going to speak to us in a few minutes. Afterwards, there¡¯ll be a last call for anyone to grab anything they¡¯ve forgotten. We should be on our way in two hours at most.¡±

    I grimace. Saints, I knew traveling with these people would slow me down but I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s already happened on the first day. Ugh.

    Before I can climb back into the carriage, Alana catches my arm. When I raise a brow, she mumbles, ¡°I spotted Sir Polluck earlier.¡±

    I¡¯m not the only one who hears her. ¡°You know Sir Polluck?¡± Will asks happily. ¡°A remarkable man. He¡¯s from one of Victory¡¯s most famous orders, as I¡¯m sure you know, Lady James. He¡¯ll be traveling with us. With luck, he¡¯ll also be joining the campaign. I¡¯d feel relieved to have a man of his caliber with us but we¡¯re lucky enough that he¡¯s chosen to address us.¡±

    Hm. ¡°Alright.¡± I shake free of Alana¡¯s grip and grab her arm instead, pulling her toward the driver¡¯s bench of our carriage. I put myself between her and Cloud, who is reclining with her eyes closed, chewing a stalk of grass.

    Let¡¯s see what the man chosen by Alana¡¯s father has to say.

 ARC 6-Winter War-38

    The noisy area quiets down as the acolytes stop their conversations, all their gazes drawn to the three older men who come to a stop before them. Two of them are dressed in light armor, the uniform leather interrupted by metal chest pieces and gauntlets. The third man is dressed in a crimson robe with black embroidery in the design of birds.

    They¡¯re too old to be mistaken as anything other than instructors but one catches my attention. Only because he is looking our way.

    I definitely wouldn¡¯t have taken notice of him if not for his intense stare. The man is simply unremarkable. He has common enough brown hair, cut close to his head, and stern brown eyes. He¡¯s short and stout, with broad shoulders that I bet makes him shell out a few extra crowns to his armorer. I suppose he has a strong presence but no more than anyone else assured of their strength. After facing down Kierra, he¡¯s not in the least bit intimidating.

    Mr. Talented and his commander, pfft, seem suitably impressed, paying rapt attention as one of the men steps forward, preparing to address us.

    Alana leans toward me. Her slight frown speaks to her nerves. ¡°I¡¯m guessing the one who keeps looking this way is your wannabe teacher?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s Sir Polluck. Knight of the Burning Embers Order and an accomplished light caster.¡±

    ¡°Hm. What¡¯s his specialties?¡±

    She blinks. ¡°Specialties?¡±

    ¡°How does he fight?¡±

    ¡°Lou¡­you¡¯re not thinking of fighting him, are you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t intend to, no, but fate rarely cares about my intentions.¡± From his heavy stare, I think the good knight does not approve of my associating with Alana. Seeing as he¡¯s her father¡¯s man, there¡¯s good reason to believe the duke will feel the same. Should he decide to convince Alana to tow his agenda with physical force, there is a good chance he will use Sir Pucky there as his sword to sever our relationship. So, it won¡¯t hurt to know what he can do.

    Alana sighs heavily. ¡°Polluck is known for disorientation tactics. I took my own style of covering my blade in light from him. It both blinds my opponent and makes the blade harder to track. He can do the same but on a much larger scale. He can blind a whole army or he can hide an army. When he fights, he covers his sword in light and creates several others as decoys.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. Obviously, the sword in his hand is the real one.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but light can burn. It¡¯s not safe to ignore them.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°¡­there¡¯s one spell he¡¯s famous for. He can¡­become light.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    Alana shakes her head. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me how. I bet it¡¯s a master level spell and no one leaks details on their trump cards. But I saw a demonstration during one of the fort¡¯s tournaments. He cloaks his whole body in light and then he¡­moves forward. Too fast to see. For anyone to see. It¡¯s said that he becomes as fast as light itself. It¡¯s an amazing technique and it¡¯s rumored no one can defend against it.¡±

    Geneva.

    [A conceptual use of his affinity I would say. Interesting. I had doubted your warriors capable of such advanced magic. Simply put, there are spells in which a caster can embody their affinity, though the spell is complicated and the cost is enormous, no matter how efficient the variables.]

    You¡¯re telling me he can really become light?

    [Yes. With all the benefits and limitations that entails.]

    Explain.

    [There are few things faster than light, though I doubt the knight can truly achieve that level of speed. It would tear him apart. He would certainly be fast. Combined with a sharp sword, it is a very deadly combination.

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    [But, he also gains the conceptual weakness of light. Mainly, that speed would be constrained to a straight line, making his path easy to predict. I imagine he drops the spell just as he strikes with his blade but before then, he could easily be ¡®deflected¡¯, like any other ray of light. Anyway, he is no threat to us.]

    Oh? I feel the same way but why are you so confident?

    [We are the worst opponents for Polluck. Your eyes will neutralize his attempts at disorientation. Perhaps his light could burn through you but such attacks are made more effective when concentrated. As you are significantly stronger than him, the knight is unable to pin you down, which he would need to do if he wished to burn through your skin.

    [Finally, his trump card is useless. Supposing he is able to use it without us properly defending, it allows him to deliver a single attack. A single lethal blow isn¡¯t enough to stop you, let alone harm you. Your wives would be in a more precarious situation but I am capable of saving them from anything short of utter annihilation. The knight, on the other hand, will likely have drained his core to the point of no longer being able to function to pull off his ability, especially in the middle of a fight.]

    I nod absently, having come to the same obvious conclusions. However, that spell is interesting. Could I do the same?

    [I would advise building a solid foundation first. Without a coefficient in the thousands, such a spell could only be maintained for a second, perhaps less.]

    I see. Does the same apply to you?

    [Indeed. Efficiency has its limits.]

    Never thought I¡¯d hear you admitting you have limits. She tries very hard to craft an infallible persona which is quite easy to believe in.

    [It would be problematic if you ordered me into a compromising position because I misrepresented my abilities.]

    ¡°That technique is impressive but it¡¯s hardly something to be concerned about.¡±

    ¡°¡­if anyone else said that, I¡¯d think they were either posturing or idiots but if might really not be a problem for you, huh?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You don¡¯t need him to learn that technique, though Geneva says it¡¯s useless without a coefficient in the thousands.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t too bothered about not learning it. Even if I had accepted instruction from Sir Polluck, I doubt he¡¯d teach it to me. He already has a student that¡¯s considered his inheritor. It¡¯d be in bad taste to pass the technique on to someone else, even if I¡¯m the daughter of the duke.¡±

    Hm. If the master is ordered to fight us, what¡¯s the chances his prized pupil doesn¡¯t get involved? Not high. ¡°You know this inheritor?¡±

    She makes a funny expression. ¡°I¡¯ve met him. It¡­well¡­¡±

    ¡°Problem?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the opposite. He used to oversee the training of the talents selected by my father sometimes. Unlike most, he never looked down on me and was encouraging. Brought us treats sometimes, gave extra instruction to anyone who was lagging behind, never had a bad word to say to anyone.¡±

    ¡°Did he also rescue cats from trees and help grandmas in the market?¡±

    ¡°You jest but you¡¯re not wrong. He has a stellar reputation. Maybe even better than my father¡¯s and the knights of Victory worship my father.¡±

    I look at her in disbelief. ¡°If he¡¯s so great, why do you look so uncomfortable talking about him?¡± He sounds right up her alley. ¡°Is he hiding some dark secret?¡± It wouldn¡¯t be the first time someone put on a mask to gain the favor of others.

    ¡°No, and that¡¯s the problem. He is genuinely a great person. And I¡¯m¡­¡± She shakes her head. ¡°No matter what you think of me, I¡¯m no saint. Could never pretend to be. Back then, I was¡­really bitter. About everything. Being around someone with such a good heart was both relaxing and¡­very uncomfortable.¡±

    I frown, trying to understand what she¡¯s saying. She notices my confusion and sighs. ¡°It¡¯s like a farmer¡¯s son going out for a night in the city with a group of noble sons. They could all be the best of friends¡ª"

    ¡°Fat chance.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a metaphor, Lou.¡± A metaphor that would never happen but I wave for her to continue. ¡°As I was saying, they could all be the best of friends but the commoner would be uncomfortable. He¡¯s going to be very aware of his status as they throw out gold crowns like they¡¯re trash. Even if they try to include him, even if they say they don¡¯t care, everything they do and say will make the division of their class that much more obvious.¡±

    I think I get it. ¡°So, this guy is so good, he makes you feel bad for not being as good?¡± Alana is a virtuous person. She hates the strong that bully the weak and will step forward to personally thwart injustice that crosses her path. But it isn¡¯t necessarily done out of the goodness of her heart. She¡¯s kind, though she pretends she isn¡¯t, but her actions stem more from disgust at those types of action than empathy for the victims, I think.

    She looks away. ¡°You need to learn subtly¡­but yes. It¡¯s suffocating.¡±

    Mm. If she liked that kind of personality, she would have turned her nose up at me long ago. Our wants are different but at the core is the same selfishness. ¡°Is he going to be a problem?¡±

    ¡°Not by himself but if his master asks him to fight¡­¡±

    ¡°So? Is he the same as Pucky?¡±

    ¡°Pucky¡ªyou¡¯re doing it on purpose, aren¡¯t you? He¡¯s less skilled than his master in magic but is the better swordsman. They call him a genius when it comes to blades.¡±

    ¡°I think they¡¯re ready to start,¡± Will announces loudly, drawing my attention back to the three men ready to address the acolytes heading for what could easily be their deaths.

 ARC 6-Winter War-39

    ¡°Gather up!¡± the instructor wearing light armor shouts unnecessarily, as the acolytes had already crowded in front of the three men, eagerly awaiting their words. He looks them over with a deep frown that suggests disapproval, which sparks some interest in me for his words.

    ¡°I¡¯ve made no secret what I think about our acolytes joining these campaigns. The Bleak Peaks have devoured men far stronger and smarter than you, than me, for generations. It is not a place to train. It is not a place to gain experience. Some would say it¡¯s no place for men at all.¡±

    He looks over the crowd and nods, seemingly pleased that their enthusiasm has been banked. ¡°However, I won¡¯t try to dissuade anyone here from turning back. The Peaks¡¯ reputation is well known. If you¡¯ve decided to challenge the harsh lands despite that, then you must have your reasons. The Hall¡¯s role is to guide so I am here to offer you advice. If you don¡¯t want to die, I suggest you remember it.¡±

    He raises his voice. ¡°Keep your eyes peeled! Danger can come from any place. Not every enemy will wait until you are ready and attack you head-on. They will hide beneath the snow. They attack your camps in the middle of the night. They¡¯ll pretend to be dead and wait for you to come close. Remember. As long as you are in enemy territory, you are not safe. Stay vigilant.

    ¡°Second, supplies! The Bleak Peaks have the harshest weather conditions on the continent. The storms are mildest in winter but that still means winds that can easily pull weakly secured tents from the ground, cold that can kill a man in hours, snow up to your knees and ice where you least expect it. There is no food besides the monsters and some of them aren¡¯t edible. If you aren¡¯t prepared, you¡¯ll be a drain on your comrades, weakening the whole of the campaign.

    ¡°There¡¯s also the possibility of getting separated from your comrades. It happens more than you think so don¡¯t make the mistake of thinking it won¡¯t happen to you. When you are preparing your bags, ask yourself if you have everything you need to survive the Bleak Peaks alone if you had to. Ultimately, your survival is in your hands.

    ¡°Third, listen to your commanders! You¡¯re rookies. There are a handful of you for whom this will be your first journey past those unforgiving mountains. For others, you¡¯ll have been doing this for a few years.

    ¡°That¡¯s nothing compared to the knights who have been fighting the armies of the winter lords for decades, their fathers decades before them, and their fathers¡¯ fathers decades before them. Don¡¯t ignore your own judgment and instincts, but the last thing you want to do is ignore the experts. And if they tell you to drop, for saints¡¯ sake, drop.

    ¡°And finally, I want to remind you of the goal for this campaign. Does anyone want to tell me what your goal is? The condition for victory?¡±

    He stares at the acolytes until one of them offers a hesitant response. ¡°Pushing back the monsters?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°The goal is to clear and claim land past the Bleak Peaks,¡± another offers.

    ¡°NO!¡± the instructor shouts again. ¡°I can see from the stupid looks on your faces that many of you are also confused. Let me tell you something obvious. Your goal is to make it back alive.

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    ¡°You¡¯re not soldiers following orders. You aren¡¯t knights serving the fort who¡¯ve been chasing an impossible dream for generations. You¡¯re acolytes of the Grand Hall. Perhaps one day you¡¯ll join one of Victory¡¯s orders but today, your priority is your growth. You can¡¯t grow if you¡¯re dead. So, make it back alive. Even if it means the campaign fails. Even if it means running home with your tails tucked between your legs. As long as you¡¯re alive, you win.¡±

    He pauses, letting his words seep in. I don¡¯t know what he sees but after a few moments, he nods in satisfaction. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough from me. Good luck, may the saints protect you all.¡±

    The acolytes clap as he steps back, making the older man snort. The red-robed instructor grins wryly as he steps forward and the applause dies down. ¡°What I have to share with you all isn¡¯t quite as serious as my fellow,¡± he starts in a much calmer tone than the foundation instructor, ¡°but I hope it will prove just as useful.

    ¡°Risking your lives shouldn¡¯t come with no reward. Fort Victory pays its contractors according to contribution. As relatively weak acolytes who will mainly be protected, what you can contribute is little and your pay will reflect such. However, if you know what to look for, there are plenty of treasures to be found past the Peaks.

    ¡°Your commander has a list of manabeast parts and other valuable things that can be found in the north. You can sell them in Victory or bring them back to Quest for a significant payday. Make sure to familiarize yourself with the list on the journey. It¡¯d be a shame if you let crowns slip through your fingers through ignorance. My advice to you acolytes is that danger and opportunity go hand in hand. Good luck and may you come back with a fortune.¡±

    The clapping after his speech is short and subdued, the acolytes more preoccupied whispering to themselves about the fortune they are going to make. They quickly quiet themselves as Sir Pucky steps forward. Clearing his throat is enough to invoke silence.

    ¡°I am Sir Polluck, a knight of Victory. I will be joining this campaign and marching with you past the mountains.¡± His proclamation is met with a few cheers but he waves them off. ¡°But I¡¯m not here to talk about the campaign. There will be plenty of people to explain what is expected of you and what you need to do to keep your head. What I want to share with you is information on Victory.

    ¡°The fort is different from any city. The people and¡­traditions are different. Victory doesn¡¯t take kindly to scoundrels. Even if you don¡¯t break the king¡¯s law, you can find yourself facing a knight¡¯s blade. Be respectful of the people and they will return it. Cause trouble¡­well, we solve trouble with swords. Also keep in mind, these are the people who will be fighting beside you in that land of death. You¡¯re depending on them to keep you safe. It¡¯s a good idea to keep from pissing them off.¡±

    Once again, his gaze moves to me but it¡¯s so brief, I doubt anyone noticed. Except Alana. From the way her hands ball into fists, she noticed and she¡¯s not happy. I grab one of her tense hands, massaging it until it relaxes.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be worried about,¡± I mutter as the knight continues his speech about the supposed ¡°rules¡± of the fort. ¡°We¡¯re going to make him eat his words. All of them.¡±

    She nods stiffly. ¡°I haven¡¯t been training for nothing.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that going? Is Kii being nice?¡±

    She lets out a bark of a laugh. ¡°Is she ever?¡±

    ¡°Depends on your definition of nice.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve made progress. That¡¯s what I care about. You¡¯re not going to leave me behind this time.¡±

    Our eyes meet. This is where I want to reassure her that I won¡¯t but the truth is, if things get dangerous, I¡¯ll have Geneva take her and run. I understand her rush, I feel it too, maybe for different reasons, but we have time. I won¡¯t recklessly risk her life.

    ¡°Do your best to keep up.¡±

    She glares at me but the heat in her gaze isn¡¯t anger.

    ¡°That¡¯s my cue,¡± Will says suddenly, running forward. He steps in front of the acolytes as Sir Pucky steps back. ¡°This is the last call for supplies. If there¡¯s anything you¡¯ve forgotten, now¡¯s the time. If you¡¯re skimping to save money, don¡¯t. Your life is more important. We move out in one hour!¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-40

    Normally, reaching Fort Victory from Quest would take about two weeks with simple horses. With the amount of ¡°luggage¡± we¡¯re taking with us, that would have been extended to three but, thanks to Cloud sourcing horse-like manabeasts that are so big they look like they eat one of their non-magical counterparts for every meal and the general hardiness of my household, we could have shaved the time down to a week and a half, maybe less.

    Traveling with the Squiddies, with their average beasts of burden and much less stamina, means we have added time to our schedule instead. They only have three wagons, loaded with their supplies. The poor acolytes are walking beside them, forcing those of us who are riding in carriages to keep pace with their slow march.

    Combined with rest breaks, meal breaks, and their need to stop at sunset to make camp, it feels like we¡¯ve barely gone anywhere. Saints, I can still see Quest in the distance if I lower my magnifying ¡®film¡¯.

    ¡°What¡¯s up with that look?¡± Alana asks, clearly amused as we sit on a stone bench created by Bell. In front of us, Geneva is arranging ingredients for dinner. ¡°It¡¯s only the first night. We¡¯ve got a long way to go.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± I grumble. ¡°I¡¯m considering just sleeping through this nonsense.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t. What if something happens?¡±

    ¡°Who or what is going to attack our group? We¡¯ve got four master casters, there¡¯s nothing here that can challenge us.¡±

    ¡°Four?¡±

    ¡°My wife, my elementals, and the great Sir Plucky.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re definitely doing that on purpose. His name¡¯s not even that hard to remember.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°How are your elementals master casters? Thralls have coefficients around three hundred, right? And imps are weaker.¡±

    I look at her, brows furrowed. Didn¡¯t I tell her about them?

    [No~]

    Huh. ¡°I know I¡¯ve told you all succubi have the mental and physical affinities.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, so?¡±

    ¡°Well, that means they are all capable of shapeshifting. While they have recognizable forms, there¡¯s nothing stopping a weaker succubus posing as a stronger one. Or, say, a very strong succubus posing as a weaker one.¡±

    Alana stares at me. Then she turns to stare at Geneva, who is cheerfully adding ingredients to a pot. ¡°¡­how strong is the thing cooking us dinner?¡±

    ¡°Four affinities, a coefficient of a thousand.¡±

    Silence. Heavy silence. After a few moments, she nods her head stiffly. ¡°And Bell?¡±

    ¡°Three, coefficient something around six hundred or so. She was originally contracted to the previous head of the Grimoire family and controlled all the succubi in the family.¡±

    The future saint rubs her forehead. ¡°Honestly, at this point, there¡¯s nothing you can say that will surprise me. Wait, why are they serving you? What did you have to give¡­saints, creatures stronger than master casters?¡±

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    ¡°Succubi feed on mana. The rarer the affinity, the more they want it.¡±

    Her eyes widen with understanding. ¡°And you¡­¡± She stops, giving our surroundings a suspicious look. ¡°That explains it.¡±

    I look over my shoulder at the sound of footsteps. Cloud flashes a smile with teeth that are too big to go unnoticed as she takes a seat beside me. ¡°The brethren have been settled for the night.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for your hard work. Did you have to put a pen around them?¡± That would have been a pain. I¡¯ll have to do something nice for her after this is over.

    ¡°They would not appreciate being caged. Our wagons contain their feed. They will stick close. Better, they will alert us if any approach.¡±

    ¡°Convenient.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Before settling in the Sanctuary, the Temple was nomadic. We are experts in long journeys.¡± She closes her eyes and sniffs the air. ¡°I always enjoy a chance to travel but your thrall¡¯s cooking makes the journey especially enjoyable.¡±

    ¡°If a little food is all you want, I¡¯m still getting a deal.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not all I want.¡±

    I grin at the look she gives me but the moment is ruined by the soft pressure of Alana driving her elbow into my side. I lean toward her, lowering my voice. ¡°No?¡±

    She doesn¡¯t say anything, face conflicted.

    ¡°Do not worry, sister.¡± Cloud flashes a cocky smirk. ¡°I¡¯m sure I can convince your mate to share you.¡±

    Alana scoffs but her disapproval is superficial. We¡¯ve already talked about it and her dislike of Cloud stemmed from seeing the tamer as competition. Now that our relationship has been settled, she has no reason to be jealous. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll get along better now, once she breaks the habit of quarreling with her.

    ¡°Oh? What this?¡± A small ball of light appears over us, zipping around our heads in a small circle. ¡°A new character in the story? Hoho, interesting. I see¡­a bit of the cute mascot, a bit of the best friend, and a bit of the rival in love.¡±

    ¡°I never know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± I tell Rolly as the lueorale shows herself, dropping onto Alana¡¯s shoulder. Seeing Cloud¡¯s heavy stare, I clear my throat and make introductions. ¡°Cloud, my new companion, R-oh, actually, I think she may appreciate the full version.¡±

    ¡°Rolling Hills Beneath a Sky of Dreams That Rains Water of the Heart,¡± the small creature pronounces grandly.

    ¡°A beautiful name,¡± Cloud says. From her tone and expression, I know she is not being polite and means the compliment. ¡°I am Cloudy Blood Moon.¡±

    ¡°Hm. A small name but you are at the beginning of your story.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Rolly is going to teach Alana how to wield her light affinity,¡± I add.

    ¡°And dazzle crowds!¡±

    ¡°Like I¡¯ve been saying, I don¡¯t need to dazzle them.¡±

    ¡°Of course you do! Perception is half the battle.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡­¡±

    ¡°Interesting. I have no doubt you will become as fearsome as the saints the men of the kingdom worship.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Give me a few years and they¡¯ll be singing songs about Alana the Brilliant in every corner of this kingdom!¡±

    ¡°Saints, no. Anything but that.¡±

    ¡°The Shining Knight?¡± Rolly offers.

    ¡°Burning Justice?¡± I snicker taking a page out of Kierra¡¯s book.

    ¡°The Beast of the North?¡± Cloud offers with a wide smile.

    Alana makes several rude gestures with her hands in answer, getting to her feet and walking off to us calling out more titles. She soon returns when Geneva announces that the food is ready, enduring our continued teasing in exchange for the delicious meal.

    Kierra ends her vigil of the caravan to join us. I told her she didn¡¯t have to do it, Bell being more than enough to keep an eye on the wagons, but she insisted. I think she wants to be the first to pounce on the fool stupid enough to attack us so she spends idle time slinking between the shadows of the wagons, like a cat waiting in tall blades of grass.

    After serving the food, Geneva pours several mugs of Herbanacle, of which I have copious amounts of after buying out Howie¡¯s supply of booze. Rolly adds to the merry mood by playing music, something light and fast that wouldn¡¯t be out of place at a festival. Several colorful lights that float around our camp complete the picture of a party.

    While the acolytes around us grapple with their anxiety after committing themselves to fighting what seems to be an unwinnable war, my household spends the first day laughing through the night.

 ARC 6-Winter War-41

    ¡°Lady Tome¡­give me a break.¡±

    It¡¯s the fifth night after setting off from Quest. Once again, we¡¯ve made camp. Cloud is still settling the beasts but Alana is beside me as Geneva prepares dinner. Rolly is off by the wagons, amusing herself by conjuring illusions of colorful birds, likely having some connection to whatever story she plans to tell tonight.

    A peaceful scene ruined by the presence of Will, the commander of the acolytes, flanked by Mr. Talented and someone I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t want to know him. From the sneer on his face, he clearly doesn¡¯t have good intentions.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see what the problem is,¡± I huff, holding out my mug for Alana to refill from the bottle of Herbanacle we¡¯re sharing. ¡°As we¡¯re not doing any harm, I don¡¯t know why you all are taking offense to my group¡¯s actions.¡±

    ¡°Not doing any harm!¡± the stranger shouts. ¡°You¡¯ve been playing music and throwing around lights well into the night! The men can¡¯t sleep and you¡¯re practically begging something to attack us!¡±

    ¡°Has there been any attacks?¡± I ask dryly, already knowing the answer. If there was something brave or strong enough to challenge a group this large, Kierra would have been all over it before it even got in sight of the acolytes.

    ¡°No, but¡ª"

    ¡°No attacks, good. Then it would seem we aren¡¯t putting you in danger. As for the lights and music, I know none of you can hear it.¡± I made sure to tell Rolly to keep the sound contained to our wagons. ¡°The lights aren¡¯t a problem if you¡¯re in your tents or bedrolls.¡±

    I grin at his grit teeth. ¡°Be honest. You¡¯re really here because the others want me to share, am I right?¡±

    I may have Rolly keeping the noise contained but it¡¯s obvious that there¡¯s a party going on just a few steps away. Besides that, there are also attractive women and delicious smelling food. More than once, an acolyte has tried to beg and barter their way into my camp but they¡¯ve been unilaterally refused. Even the one lady that tried, flashing a poor attempt at a seductive smile.

    Really, how bad is my reputation in the Hall that they thought anyone with breasts would be enough to sway me?

    Will sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. ¡°Then you do understand. I don¡¯t fault you for refusing to share. We all had the opportunity to prepare whatever we wanted for the journey, including items of leisure. However, please see it from my perspective. It¡¯s rather demoralizing for the others to eat dry rations and sleep on the hard ground next to¡­¡± He makes vague gestures at our camp and carriage.

    ¡°I understand, Will, I do. Now see it from my perspective. Who would willing suffer just to make a bunch of strangers feel better?¡±

    ¡°Strangers? Those are your future comrades,¡± the stranger snarls. ¡°A march like this is already hard but it becomes ten times more difficult when we¡¯re forced to endure the hardships of travel while watching you flaunt your wealth. You could easily keep it contained to your camp but you literally plaster it over the sky. Is it no wonder that the men feel resentful?¡±

    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re blaming me for their lack of discipline. Common soldiers march alongside noble commanders all the time. Do their commanders eating better food and riding on carriages give them the right to revolt? Pretty sure they¡¯d be detained for insubordination.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Really, why are you three here? To tell me to stop having such a good time? To force me to share my hard-earned and valuable resources with everyone else because they really, really want them? Does this not sound ridiculous to anyone else beside me?¡±

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°We¡¯re not asking for you to give up your resources,¡± Mr. Talented says slowly. ¡°We¡¯re asking you to show a little consideration. As the Squires showed you when inviting you to travel with us.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± the stranger echoes. ¡°Quit being selfish. You can do whatever you want, just don¡¯t throw it in everyone¡¯s faces. If not showing off is too hard for you, then you can travel on your own. It¡¯s not like the Squires are eager to defend you.¡±

    I consider it. There¡¯s been no sign of the hunters and these people are turning out to be a pain. We could cover much more distance if we broke away. Hm.

    ¡°Calm down, George,¡± Will snaps. ¡°Our invitation to Lady Tome was not an act of charity.¡± He glares at the taller man. ¡°We are not the lady¡¯s shields, but deterrents. Both for her sake and the sake of the hunters that might be tempted to attack her thinking her an easy target while traveling.¡±

    Despite being smaller, Will wins the contest of wills. George turns his gaze with scoff, crossing his arms. What are you, a child?

    ¡°However, Lady Tome, I don¡¯t think a little consideration is asking for too much. Particularly because I don¡¯t believe we are asking you to invest much effort.¡± His dark eyes are wide and honest as he faces me. ¡°You may have the strength to forge your own path but do you really want to do so alone?¡±

    I stare at him as I mull over his words. Alone? I wouldn¡¯t be alone. I would have Kii, Alana, and my elementals. My servants and even my family. As a noble, I know the value in cultivating allies. But as someone with the potential to live a very long time and with sights that extend beyond the Harvest kingdom, I don¡¯t have to scramble for every scrap of influence I can get my hands on.

    These acolytes I have angered, what does their goodwill amount to? In the Bleak Peaks, I wouldn¡¯t entrust my safety to them. I could shower them in gold but that wouldn¡¯t make them anymore likely to risk their lives for me.

    Beyond that? There is the slightest chance that, in a couple dozen years, they¡¯ll all be masters. However, in a couple dozen years, I can¡¯t imagine how powerful my house will be. Saints, I bet my gardener will have more power and influence than all of them put together.

    So, really, what am I giving up by telling them to fuck off?

    Before I can open my mouth to give a response, perhaps sensing what I¡¯m going to say, a hand covers my lips. Alana gives me a look that makes my teeth click shut as she stands from the stone bench and faces our complaining traveling companions.

    ¡°Lou has a point that these complaints are a sign of poor discipline amongst your ranks. It¡¯s beyond sad that they are whining to their leaders about their jealousies.¡± She raises a hand to stop the retort from the red-faced, uh, George, who¡¯s been looking for a fight from the start.

    ¡°However, it is also our fault to contributing to that lack of discipline. The biggest complaint is the light show, right? Fine. No more shows in the sky. However, we won¡¯t be doing anything about the smell of dinner. That is a useless expense of power and it would never fly in the army or an order. Tell them to get over it or cook their own dinner if they can¡¯t stomach dry rations.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­fair,¡± Will says. I think he¡¯s happy to get anything at all.

    ¡°Thank you, Alana,¡± Mr. Talented says with a soft smile. What is that expression? Why are you acting like she did you a personal favor? Bastard¡¯s taking her kindness as favor.

    The third one stays silent.

    ¡°We won¡¯t take up any more of your time. Goodnight, ladies.¡± Will motions for the others to follow as he walks off, heading for their own camp.

    I wait until they are definitely out of hearing range before turning to her. ¡°What was th¡ªmmph?¡±

    She cuts me off in the most effective way. That is, pressing our lips together. Continuing my indignant response means ending the kiss, which I¡¯m completely unwilling to do.

    She does so after several minutes, red-faced and slightly panting. She slides down the bench a little before picking up her mug and taking a long drink. ¡°They just asked us to turn down the lights,¡± she says when she finishes the drink. ¡°Relax.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point,¡± I mutter around the rim of my own mug. We¡¯re being told to not have such a good time. How is that reasonable? If they¡¯re going to make ridiculous requests like that, I have no obligation to listen.

    ¡°They think they¡¯re marching to their deaths. That¡¯s a lot of fear and anger with nowhere to go for three long weeks. You¡¯re a convenient target.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Just think of it as doing it for me.¡±

    I throw up my hands, some of the Herbanacle sloshing over the side of my cup. ¡°Then what are we supposed to do for the rest of the journey? I like watching Rolly¡¯s performances.¡±

    She averts her gaze. ¡°We can think of something¡­¡±

    Why is she looking like¡­oh.

    Ooooh.

    Heh. Maybe there¡¯s something to this consideration thing.

 ARC 6-Winter War-42

    On the tenth day, we run into our first spot of trouble. Or, it runs into us.

    What alerts me to the problem is the sound of a tremendous crash ahead of us. If that wasn¡¯t enough of a giveaway, the screaming and curses that follow would have been. I throw open the door to my carriage, nearly falling out as we come to a sudden halt.

    Kierra lands beside me as I get my feet underneath me. Despite the chance of imminent danger, her features are placid. Bored. My estimation of the threat plummets. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Small creatures harassing the poor acolytes.¡±

    Punctuating her statement is Bell, who comes sprinting around the back of the wagon with the corpse of a¡­thing in her mouth. [A midday snack, Master Lou. They went for the wagons but we¡¯ve stopped them.]

    Mm, thanks.

    Kierra sighs, rather dramatically. ¡°They are hardly a threat. The damage was caused by one of the acolytes striking a wagon while trying to dispatch one of the beasties. It tipped over, dragging the horses with it.¡±

    ¡°Can you describe them?¡± Alana asks, jumping out of the carriage, sword in hand. She quickly ties the scabbard to her waist before pulling the blade.

    ¡°Stripes, tufts of white hair on their heads and tails.¡± She points to Bell who shakes her¡­midday snack.

    ¡°Ah. Snowcats.¡± She looks conflicted for a moment before sheathing her blade. ¡°They¡¯re more pests than anything else. The females hibernate through winter so the males go in a frenzy gathering food leading up to then. They¡¯re normally wary of people but right before winter, they get a lot more daring. They¡¯ll raid kitchens and cellars with no concern for their lives.¡±

    ¡°Are they a threat?¡±

    ¡°Not really. Their bites hurt but they aren¡¯t strong enough to get through tough leather. Like I said, they¡¯re pests. The acolytes should have just been startled.¡±

    ¡°¡­are they going to be alright?¡± If slightly large pests are enough to make them panic, how are they going to handle a supposed army of vicious manabeasts under harsh weather conditions?

    ¡°Mm. Probably¡­¡±

    ¡°Well, this is nothing to do with us.¡±

    ¡°I agree. I also think I will take a break from my watch.¡± I yelp as Kierra grabs me about the waist but settle down quickly as I realize she¡¯s carrying me back to the carriage. Alana shuffles in place a bit before following us.

    -

    The commotion with the snowcats means our caravan is brought to a halt. Replacing the wheel shot off by a hasty spell and organizing the contents of the tipped over wagon is projected to take over an hour by Will, who comes to inform us about the situation. As it is already late in the day, he decides to make camp early and put the jumpy acolytes through a little training to burn off their excess energy.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    I was invited but quickly decline. Despite his many assertions that we are future comrades, I have no intention of fighting alongside these people. Not just to hide my secrets but also because I think I¡¯ll be putting myself in more danger doing so. Rather than waste my time, I decide to go fishing with Alana and Bell for dinner. There¡¯s a large creek not too far from our camp. It would be a waste to ignore the opportunity.

    However, our plans to secure delicious ingredients is interrupted by spotting a figure at the creek. Well, I spot it, holding out an arm to stop Alana as I drop a ¡®film¡¯. The blurry figure resolves into a person.

    A very short person or a child. A commoner given their clothes. Or rather, the formless, dirty cloth that hangs off their body. Someone with no standards could call the thing a dress but I¡¯m not confident in declaring the child a girl. Their hair is cropped short, a rare thing for daughters, poor or not, and I can¡¯t see their face because of their bowed head.

    As I watch, the child, I¡¯m guessing, cups their hands in the water of the creek and brings a drink to their mouth. The movements allow me to see the bloody bandages over their arm.

    Hm. What to do? Obviously, this child is in distress but they aren¡¯t in immediate danger. Who knows what I¡¯m inviting if I involve myself? It could be as simple as escorting the poor child home or as arduous as saving a whole village. I¡¯m hesitating because it¡¯s not like I can give up in the middle. That¡¯d be worse than doing nothing at all, I think. Besides, Alana wouldn¡¯t allow it.

    Without question, if she sees this dirty runt, she¡¯ll go to the ends of the kingdom to right whatever wrong has befallen them. And there goes our schedule to reach Victory. Ah, but she¡¯d be upset if I keep it from her¡ª

    ¡°And what is your name, little one?¡±

    While I¡¯m wrestling with my thoughts, Rolly appears beside the child, who jumps with fright as a ball of shimmering light suddenly speaks to them. What? Was she always following us? I didn¡¯t¡­suppose I wouldn¡¯t hear a thing if a master of the wind of affinity wants to sneak up on me. How do I detect enemies like that?

    No, now¡¯s not the time to think of this. Shaking my head, I drop my arm and motion Alana to follow me. ¡°Looks like there¡¯s someone in trouble.¡±

    ¡°Trouble?¡± The future knight¡¯s countenance sharpens and her eyes narrow in focus. As always, her response to possible danger is admirable. She is right beside me as we walk toward the child, who watches our approach with wide eyes.

    They are on the other side of the creek but it¡¯s a simple matter to leap across the water. Alana also manages but she stumbles a little on her landing, which Rolly chides her for. Apparently, heroes don¡¯t stumble, heh.

    While they bicker, I turn to the child who is watching me with wide eyes. Still hard to determine if it¡¯s a boy or a girl. Despite their current appearance, their face has a youthful roundness that makes it hard to tell from and they¡¯re too young for their body to give any clues.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I say, perhaps a touch awkwardly. Never been great with children. ¡°Do you need help?¡±

    Their face scrunches up. I can practically feel the distrust coming off them. Mm, I¡¯d be suspicious too if two strangers and a ball of light suddenly appeared while I was getting something to drink to offer help. It probably seems too good to be true. I bet if the child had any other options, they¡¯d take off running rather than take the chance.

    Yet, they clearly don¡¯t have any other options as their head dips in a nod. But that¡¯s it. Seconds tick by as I wait for the child to spill whatever horrors has led to them crouching at this creek with a bloody bandage over their arm but the shortie just continues staring at me.

    Alana comes to my rescue. Pulling me back by the shoulder, she crouches in front of the child and smiles. It¡¯s¡­that¡¯s a new expression. Guessing she¡¯s good with children. It¡¯s not aimed at me and but I feel my shoulders relaxing. I¡¯d call it magic if I didn¡¯t know better.

    ¡°Tell us what happened,¡± she says in a tone that makes me want to spill all my secrets.

    The child is just as affected. Their features scrunch up further as tears gather in the corner of their eyes. ¡°Please save my daddy!¡± they ask in a sorrowful voice that warbles at the end.

 ARC 6-Winter War-43

    The child is given the enviable position of Alana¡¯s lap as she coaxes them into spilling their story. The telling is a disjointed barrage of detail but I manage to piece together the plot.

    Two neighboring villages get along extremely well. Neither have an abundance of resources but they compensate for each other¡¯s deficiencies. One village has good fields and herds beasts. They have food aplenty, but few craftsmen and other resources.

    The second village is a mining village. The mine provides plenty of iron and there are many craftsmen who can work it. Selling ore and tools makes them plenty of money, which they use to buy food from their neighbors.

    Tragedy strikes. The first village that normally has an abundance of food has a poor harvest, due to a wave of monsters destroying their fields. They don¡¯t have any excess to trade if they want to keep their people fed through the long winter, so they reject their neighbors¡¯ attempts to buy food.

    While their decision is understandable, village two still needs to eat. It is particularly terrible timing as, due to the campaign, I¡¯m sure food prices in the north must be sky high, if there¡¯s anything to buy at all. Village two is relying on their usual trade with village one. They aren¡¯t going to be understanding about unfortunate happenstance when they¡¯re facing starvation.

    As these things do, it turns to violence. Village two, having an abundance of iron, has far more weapons. They marched into village one and took the food they needed at sword point but did not harm anyone aside from the only man who tried to stop them.

    Hypocritical benevolence. After all, without food, the people in village one will die anyway. If anything, the thieves sentenced them to a far more pitiful fate. One the victims aren¡¯t going to take lying down.

    The men from village one decided to raid village two, armed with farming tools and desperation. Included in that group is Wenry¡¯s, the girl sobbing into Alana¡¯s chest, father. Apparently, she left in the middle of the night to chase after him and bring him home. Brave girl but terrible navigator. She admits to being lost. It¡¯s a good thing we found her. I don¡¯t think she could have made it another night.

    The story concludes with the expected tears, Anna cradling the little girl bawling her eyes out. I stand a little to the side, planning. I¡¯ve brought a lot of supplies but not enough to feed a village full of people through the winter. Perhaps, with Kierra¡¯s and Geneva¡¯s help, we can hunt and dry enough meat. It¡¯ll cost us nothing but a few days, assuming there¡¯s enough prey to go around.

    There¡¯s also the much quicker bloody solution but I only consider it long enough to acknowledge it. I may not be the most empathetic person but I can¡¯t murder a village of innocent people who took drastic action to save their lives and the lives of their families. Physically, it¡¯d be disturbingly easy, but mentally, it¡¯s an impossible hurdle. I imagine it¡¯s the same for Alana. I don¡¯t dare bring it up to her.

    Suppose I should send Rolly back to tell the others that we¡¯ll be deviating from the schedule a bit. Saints, at their speed, we¡¯ll probably catch up to the acolytes before we reach Victory. In the meantime, Alana can take Wenry back to her village and I¡¯ll track down the men before they start a bloodbath.

    ¡°Alana¡ª"

    ¡°Lou¡ª"

    We stop, having both started speaking at the same time. I wave for her to go ahead of me but she frowns, shaking her head. After a brief staring contest, I continue. ¡°I was going to suggest you take your new friend home while I track down her father and stop the menfolk from hurting themselves.¡±

    Her frown deepens. She slowly rises to her feet, keeping hold of Wenry. ¡°Lou, what do you want to do?¡±

    My brows furrow as I stare into her stern eyes. ¡°What do I want to do? Isn¡¯t that obvious? I¡¯m going to chase down the brat¡¯s father and stop them from hurting themselves or anyone else. As for the food¡­¡± I trail off as I notice her expression isn¡¯t getting better. ¡°Why are you giving me that look?¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Gently, she sets Wenry down. ¡°I need to talk to my friend for a little while.¡± She waits until the little girl nods before leading me away with a hand on my shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I know there¡¯s no way you can leave this alone. It won¡¯t take too long and we can still make it to Victory by¡ª"

    ¡°Lou, stop.¡± A hand on my stomach brings me to a stop. The future saint¡¯s expression is conflicted. ¡°This¡­isn¡¯t something we should get involved in.¡±

    I stare at her, stunned. ¡°What do¡­you want to just ignore them?¡±

    ¡°No. I want to take Wenry home and sort something out for the village. Give them some supplies, maybe drop in on their governing lord, who should be the one handling the problem. But as for the men¡­they¡¯ve made their choice.¡±

    I¡¯m not sure I believe what I¡¯m hearing. ¡°You want them to slaughter each other?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want them to kill each other, no, but they¡¯re the ones who decided to handle the situation through violence. The men who took the food by force had to know they risked retaliation and the attackers know they are putting their lives on the lines. Despite that, this is what they chose. Let them reap what they sow.¡±

    I call Alana a future saint because, in my eyes, she is kind and honest, two traits that have been a rarity in my life. However, as we grow closer, it becomes increasingly clear to me that she is not a hero, nor does she strive to be one.

    Her kindness does not extend to all and is tempered by the ruthlessness of someone who has seen too many bad things. I know she isn¡¯t a bleeding heart who will be moved by every tragedy and she warned Mr. Talented about reckless intervention.

    Still, this is a bit unexpected. Even I am moved having a dirty, injured child pleading to save her father. Despite our turned backs, I know she¡¯s watching us with subdued hope, perhaps praying to the saints for a miracle.

    I know my future wife isn¡¯t completely unaffected. She may not be naive enough to think she can save everyone but I have no doubt that she could if she would. What is bothering me is that we can help these people. The minimum amount, stopping the men and leaving them some supplies, wouldn¡¯t even take that much effort.

    ¡°Do you¡­really want to do nothing?¡±

    Her lips twist in a scowl. ¡°I thought you would be the last person to look down on my stance.¡±

    It¡¯s my turn to be displeased, but I contain my reaction to a small frown. ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°You were hesitant to approach Wenry, weren¡¯t you? You didn¡¯t want to get involved.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. I wanted to walk away while I still could. Because I could only walk away when I didn¡¯t know.¡± I may imagine there¡¯s a tragic story behind the injured child crouching beside a creek but as long as I don¡¯t know, I can pretend it¡¯s something innocuous, like a stroll gone wrong. Better, I can imagine it¡¯s a story with a happy ending.

    Had I walked away without meeting her, I could have told myself that Wenry would make her way home and forget all about her nasty scare in the woods within the comforting arms of her mother.

    If I walk away now, I know I will be leaving several people to die. Wenry won¡¯t be returning to a comforting mother but a grieving widow if her father doesn¡¯t make it back from this supposed raid on the neighboring village.

    And if he should? How changed will he be after bludgeoning their previous neighbors with a plow? Could they really be happy? What will happen to them when the governing lord makes inquiries about the mess? It would be a sick twist of fate if the men who killed to save their families were put to death by the law.

    To let that happen when it would take a few days effort to stop it¡­it¡¯s a bit distasteful.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on, sweetie?¡± I ask, trying to meet her eyes as she averts her gaze. ¡°I would have thought you¡¯d already be charging off by now. Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a bit weird that I¡¯m the one arguing to take action?¡±

    ¡°¡­are you disappointed?¡±

    ¡°What? Of course not!¡± My hands flex but I stop myself from reaching out to her. Then I remember that I don¡¯t have to restrain those urges anymore and pull her into a hug. ¡°I want to make sure that you¡¯re not doing this for some ridiculous reason like you¡¯re worried about bothering me.¡±

    Alana sighs deeply as she leans against my chest. ¡°No. It¡¯s¡­I¡¯ve been thinking about home. If this was Victory, if they decided to settle things through martial means, they¡¯d be left to it. The orders would sweep in afterwards to ensure no petty vengeances extended the conflict and that the innocents were taken care of, but the men would be left to it.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t Victory. You don¡¯t have to do things the way they would. What do you want to do?¡±

    She¡¯s silent for several moments. I let her think, a hand idly rising to massage her waist. It slowly migrates to her backside, as my touches become more intentional. With a soft scoff, Alana steps out of my arms before I can go much farther, but she¡¯s smiling. ¡°Not the time. Come on, grab Wenry. We need to move if we¡¯re going to catch up to the men before the fighting starts.¡±

    ¡°Your first debut!¡±

    We both jump as Rolly appears over us, her shout accompanied by trilling music. The ball of light, the form she usually takes around strangers, bobs excitedly back and forth. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s too soon for a performance but the stage waits for no one! Remember your lessons. Half the battle is appearance.¡±

    Alana smiles thinly. ¡°For this, you may be right.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-44

    Wenry isn¡¯t happy being carried by me, much preferring Alana¡¯s effortless care to my awkward empathy, but she doesn¡¯t have much of a choice. For us to move at our quickest pace, I have to carry the small child with her small legs that have no hope of keeping up.

    In that regard, I¡¯m surprised by how quickly we¡¯re moving. It¡¯s not the speed of my ¡°rampage¡± through Quest but it¡¯s definitely faster than the average sprint. More impressively, Alana is maintaining the pace. I see her training with my wife has been going well, though I imagine most of her ability is a result of her previous years of effort. They haven¡¯t been training together that long. This much growth would be impossible without an already strong foundation.

    We lose a little time, what with Wenry being lost, but she¡¯s able to remember enough to get us in the right area. Luckily, over two dozen men with no experience hiding their tracks leave an obvious trail. Once we find the first hints, it¡¯s a simple matter to run after them. Despite their lead, it only takes two hours to catch up. We slow down as we hear arguing ahead of us.

    Wenry perks up in my arms, squirming once we are close enough for her to hear the voices as well. Once she realizes she¡¯s not going to escape my hold, she finally whispers, ¡°That¡¯s daddy.¡±

    Good, then we didn¡¯t happen upon a completely unrelated group traipsing through the woods. I grin as Alana waves for me to let her take the lead. I watch with interest as her features set in a stern expression and she marches forward with tense shoulders.

    The would-be raiders are in a sorrier state than I imagined. They look like average commoners, dressed in simple clothes that are well-worn and mended in several places. A few wear heavy coats and thick gloves. Those that don¡¯t shiver intermittently in the chill. Each of them holds what I assume is meant to be a weapon. Plows, spades, and pitchforks make up the most of their arms. There are also many knives tied to their waists. One man has a whip, though I highly doubt he¡¯s skilled enough to fend off armed combatants with it.

    It doesn¡¯t take long before the men notice us, ceasing their argument to stare. ¡°Wenry?¡± a thin man with the girl¡¯s brown hair shouts, stepping forward. The wiggling of the child in my arms gains strength. This time, I set her down and she wastes no time running toward him. It¡¯s heartening to see that he drops his overly large fork in favor of scooping up his daughter.

    ¡°Wenry! What are you doing here? Your mother must be worried to death.¡±

    ¡°I had to come and find you!¡± she retorts. ¡°Mommy cried when you left and kept crying through the whole night. Come back, daddy.¡±

    Her father¡¯s face twists with his internal struggle. It is another man that answers, a younger one who is wearing a fairly nice coat and expensive-looking gloves. He is also the only one with actual weapons, a shortsword strapped across his chest and a spear in hand. I didn¡¯t seem him before as the others obscured his rather short stature, but he steps forward at Wenry¡¯s plea.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid your father can¡¯t go home yet,¡± the well-armed man says. His dark eyes are full of repressed anger. ¡°We have to get back what was taken from us. Isn¡¯t that right?¡± The other men holler disjointed war cries at his question but it doesn¡¯t make the apparent leader smile. It doesn¡¯t seem he¡¯s enjoying this business, despite spearheading it.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just leave her alone,¡± the worried father protests.

    ¡°No. But perhaps the two women who brought her here would be good enough to take her home.¡± The leader turns to us, who stand at the edge of the crowd. ¡°You two, do you know what¡¯s happening here?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Alana says, and I let her take the lead. She takes several steps forward, holding the leader¡¯s gaze as she shortens the distance between them to an armlength. ¡°You are about to commit a violent act against the king¡¯s law.¡±

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    ¡°It may not be lawful but no one can say it isn¡¯t right. Those bastards walked into our village, held our wives and children to the blade, and walked away with our food. If it was just humiliation, I could bear it. I would take it gracefully for our struggling neighbors. But if we don¡¯t retrieve that food, none of us will see spring.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing this to save yourselves. The men who stole from you did so to save themselves. Neither side will be willing to back down so it will come to a fight. You¡¯ll die anyway.¡±

    The leader frowns. ¡°Just because those bastards have good swords doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re good fighters. We can take them, especially if we surprise them.¡±

    ¡°But can you pull off a flawless victory? You have no armor, no healers. Even if you win, some of you will die. How many of you are resolved to pay the price?¡±

    She turns away from the leader to sweep her gaze over the crowd. ¡°Who wants to be the one to disappear into the Abyss while your comrades return to their families? Can all of you keep your nerves when your hands are covered in blood and you see your friends fall?¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± the leader shouts, sensing the hesitation invoked by her words. ¡°We may not be soldiers but we will do what needs to be done.¡± He spears the men with a glare until they nod in agreement. ¡°This has nothing to do with you, woman. Stay out of our business.¡±

    ¡°It became my business when a young, injured girl asked for my help and I agreed.¡± Wenry shrinks in her father¡¯s arms, not understanding why a few piercing glares land on her. ¡°Tell me this. What are your plans for the men of the other village? You can¡¯t simply leave them or it¡¯ll be their turn to march on you. And they won¡¯t be merciful a second time.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll teach them a lesson that¡¯ll make them think twice.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t have to think. Like you said, this is a matter of life and death. Even if you achieve an outstanding victory with no casualties, they¡¯ll march on you.¡±

    ¡°What does that¡ª"

    ¡°There¡¯s only one way to make sure that you end this once and for all,¡± she says over them. ¡°Kill them.¡±

    Silence reigns as the leader gapes at her. ¡°What are you saying?¡± he asks with wide eyes.

    ¡°You heard me. Kill every single man in that village. If you really want to be safe, you¡¯d kill the wives and children too, else they will come back to trouble you in a few years.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re mad!¡±

    ¡°Why? Are you afraid of being punished? They stole from you first so you can make a decent argument. It¡¯ll be much easier to do so without anyone to argue against you.¡±

    ¡°Be quiet!¡± the leader snaps. His hand rises and I have the feeling he wants to slap her, but he thinks better of it after his eyes flick to the sword at her waist. ¡°We aren¡¯t animals. I don¡¯t want to know what kind of sick house produced you but we would never raise a blade against children, for saints¡¯ sake.¡±

    ¡°Oh? You won¡¯t cut them down but it¡¯s perfectly alright leaving them to starve to death?¡±

    The bluster leaves the man like a candle being blown out. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the same fate. If you would condemn them to death, then have the resolve to do it with your own hand, coward. Blaming your crime on the circumstances, saying things like it couldn¡¯t be helped. There is nothing more despicable.¡±

    ¡°Then what are we supposed to do?¡± someone shouts while the leader stands with grit teeth.

    ¡°Are we meant to lay down and wait for death? Not even dogs could do it,¡± shouts another, agreement echoed by those around him.

    ¡°No. You do what you¡¯re doing now. You pull together and you fight but you do so against the real enemy.¡±

    ¡°Real enemy?¡±

    ¡°The lack of food.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± The leader regains his confidence. ¡°Do you think we didn¡¯t already try to come up with a hundred ways to solve this without arms? There is no other way.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s really true, why are you hesitating when you hear the consequences of your actions? If there is no room for other solutions, there should be no room for doubt.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not listening to anymore of your nonsense.¡± The leader spits to the side as if tasting something foul. ¡°Men, we¡¯re wasting daylight. Fred, hand your daughter over. If the women know what¡¯s good for them, they¡¯ll take Wenry home and stay out of things that don¡¯t concern them.¡±

    ¡°When reasoning fails, you turn to vague threats. If you put this little effort into thinking your way out of this situation, I¡¯m not surprised you¡¯re all shivering while plotting to skewer your neighbors on pitchforks.¡±

    She brushes past him, knocking him aside with a shoulder. She holds out her hands for Wenry but her father hesitates to hand her over. ¡°Do you want her to watch as you slaughter another village?¡± He flinches but slowly hands his daughter over. Wenry, cowled by the yelling, goes without a fuss. ¡°She¡¯ll be safer with us. Come on, Lou.¡±

    The men watch us with heavy gazes as we walk away. Once we¡¯re far enough, an argument starts, the leader trying to refocus the men whose motives have been questioned. ¡°Are you going to leave it at that?¡± I ask.

    ¡°No,¡± Alana responds immediately. ¡°We¡¯ll circle around them and reach this mining village first.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-45

    Wenry tells us that the villages are a day¡¯s ride from one another. Walking, the men won¡¯t arrive until tomorrow afternoon, giving them plenty of time to prepare for their nightly assault. We, however, moving at a much quicker pace, manage to make it to the mining village by sunset.

    The village is incredibly small, with only a handful of buildings to support it, none of them constructed with the occupants¡¯ comfort in mind. There are three long buildings near the village well that, from the lines of laundry hung near it and the few children playing about the entrances, house the residents.

    Communal housing. The thought makes me shiver but it is often done in new villages constructed near natural resources as temporary housing for the workers. From the number of patchwork repairs on the roofs, they¡¯ve been around far longer than intended.

    The best-looking buildings are the row of forges. I imagine the builders took more care with them, as an improperly built forge can kill. Or, more likely, the lord financing this village passed out a few extra crowns as iron ore and metalwork are where he gets his money.

    Alongside them are a few other buildings I imagine are other workshops. North of them is a lumberyard where several logs are present and beside it is a small stable.

    In the middle of the village, dividing the two groupings of buildings but closer to the residences, is the only building with multiple floors. It is a mix between a manor and an administrative building. Built of sturdy but drab gray stone no noble would want to come home to, only the highest floor is painted white, the color fading and dirty. The elegant sloping roof is made of wood and its highest floor has windows of glass, an unnecessary expense for a purely utilitarian building.

    It¡¯s not uncommon for a building in a small village to serve multiple purposes but this is the first time I¡¯ve seen it displayed so prominently. Frankly, I think it looks a bit ridiculous. If I had to guess, whichever little man put in place to run the village by the governing lord wanted a fancy house but wasn¡¯t given the budget for a private residence. Hence, the architectural monstrosity before me.

    The whole of the village is surrounded by a fence made of wooden spikes and rope. Honestly, no good for keeping out anything other than pests. It only comes up to my waist. Even before my transformation, I¡¯d have no problem climbing over it. If I couldn¡¯t be bothered to saw through the ropes.

    The man standing at the entrance might be more of a deterrent. I say might because he¡¯s not too intimidating, despite the spear in his hand. He looks far too nervous, tossing his gaze about the surroundings every so often. The look of a guilty man. I suppose they aren¡¯t so stupid as to believe Wenry¡¯s village will take the theft of their food lightly.

    He sees us right away and tenses. The hand on the shaft of his spear tightens but he makes no threatening motions. I suppose two women carrying a child don¡¯t come off as a threat, even if one of them is visibly armed.

    ¡°Halt!¡± he shouts once we¡¯re in range of the average person to hear. He even raises a hand to emphasize the order. ¡°State your business.¡±

    ¡°Bring me to whoever¡¯s in charge,¡± Alana snaps without slowing. The poor sentry attempts to stand in her way and gets knocked aside with an outstretched arm. He gapes at us as we pass into the village, likely wondering how a girl just brushed him aside so easily. To be fair, he isn¡¯t that much taller than her and is on the lanky side. He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over.

    It doesn¡¯t take him long to regain his senses and he runs after us. ¡°Hey! Stop! I¡¯m telling you to stop or¡ª"

    Alana turns on her heels, making the man stumble as he tries not to run into her. ¡°Or what? This is your chance to detain me, if you think you¡¯re up to it.¡±

    He shrinks back in the face of her confidence but only for a moment. Then his features harden and a hand reaches for her. ¡°I¡¯m not going to hit you. Just come with me.¡±

    She punches him.

    The poor man¡¯s head snaps to the side as he stumbles. A hand hovers over his bleeding lip as he stares at her with wide eyes. ¡°Saints, what¡¯d you hit me for?!¡±

    ¡°You were attempting to detain me and I decided I didn¡¯t want to go. Isn¡¯t that how this village settles problems? With force?¡±

    He stiffens, his gaze turning wary. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    She ignores his question and heads for the most prominent building in the center of the village. The sentry smartly doesn¡¯t try to stop her again, keeping pace with us while shooting cautious glances at Alana. He rushes ahead of us to open the door to the main building, holding it open as we pass.

    It looks like¡­a meeting hall? There is a table with two benches sat before it, a perfect design for holding court. But it seems to also double as a guardhouse. I only say that because there is a rack of five spears against one wall. The weapons are usually kept near the people meant to be using them.

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    Only one person is present, a gruff middle-aged man seated at the table at the back of the room smoking a pipe. He looks up as the door opens, furrowing heavy brows. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he rasps. ¡°You showing off to your girlfriends, brat?¡±

    Before I have time to express my disgust or the sentry can get over his embarrassment to correct his likely superior, Alana raises her voice. ¡°Are you in charge of this village?¡±

    The man huffs. ¡°For now.¡±

    ¡°What does for now mean? Are you or are you not the head of the village?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s my turn to ask a question, little lady. Who are you and why shouldn¡¯t I throw you out of this village on your ass?¡±

    ¡°¡­my name is Alana James. I¡¯ve been asked to intercede in a certain matter. I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t have to tell you which one.¡±

    The man sits up straighter. ¡°Saints¡¯ blessed asses, I didn¡¯t think that little weasel was telling the truth.¡±

    ¡°The truth?¡±

    ¡°Our village head said he was going to Victory to see if he could buy enough food for the winter. I thought he was just slipping off and leaving us to deal with the mess ourselves but lo and behold, a James in our humble little village. I suppose I should be honored.¡±

    Despite his words, the man doesn¡¯t seem too impressed with Alana. The feeling is mutual. I can tell from her frown that he isn¡¯t making the best impression.

    ¡°You¡¯ve yet to introduce yourself.¡±

    ¡°Oh, pardon. My ma would tan my ass if she saw me forgetting such basic manners. Borick, the leader of the village militia, which is usually one man.¡±

    ¡°Then, Borick.¡± Alana comes to a stop. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not here on behalf of the village head. I am here on behalf of Wenry.¡±

    ¡°Wenry?¡±

    ¡°A girl from the neighboring village you robbed.¡±

    Unlike the sentry, Borick doesn¡¯t show a guilty expression when faced with his crime. Instead, he lets out a heavy sigh that moves his shoulders and sets down his pipe. ¡°Suppose you¡¯re here to right wrongs and punish villains.¡±

    ¡°Then there¡¯s no need to explain.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You Victory bastards are all the same.¡± He scratches his thick beard. ¡°Is there any chance you could walk away, girl? I don¡¯t want any problems with your family but we won¡¯t be giving up that food. I feel bad for our neighbors but my responsibility is to my people.¡±

    ¡°No chance at all. There is a chance to settle this peacefully. Stand down and tell your men to assemble all the food you stole.¡±

    ¡°Seems we¡¯re at an impasse.¡±

    There¡¯s a beat of tense silence.

    I step back as he rushes forward, keeping an eye on the sentry. Alana raises her fists and weaves out of the way of the blow, countering with a punch to his side. He grunts but it isn¡¯t enough to stop him. He swings at her again, stronger and faster. Guess he was holding back but one hit was enough to convince him he doesn¡¯t have the luxury.

    It¡¯s a struggle not to get involved as I watch Alana get surprised by a kick. What allows me to keep myself in check is the knowledge that she isn¡¯t really in danger. I doubt the lucky shot will even bruise and she follows up with a punch that sends the bigger man stumbling backwards. From the beginning, she¡¯s been taking charge. Clearly, she wants to handle the situation so I¡¯ll let her have her moment.

    After a minute of exchanging blows, Borick, face bloodied by a busted nose and lip, charges at Alana sloppily with outstretched hands, likely hoping to use his size against her. Alana calmly grabs one of his arms and smoothly flips him over her shoulder, the sound of him hitting the floor making the wide-eyed sentry beside me wince.

    He stays down but Alana doesn¡¯t end it there. Her sword leaves its sheathe with a sharp ring of metal on metal. She places the blade against his neck, looking down at him with stern eyes. ¡°You just assaulted me. I have every right to kill you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± He coughs and spits a bloody wad to the side. ¡°Trespassing. Makes you a criminal.¡±

    ¡°A thief calling me a criminal. Hilarious.¡± The sword is so close, the tiniest bit more will cut his skin. She holds it there for a long breath before lifting it and sheathing the blade. ¡°Thank the saints I have no intention of killing anyone today. Now, tell your man there to gather the food you stole.¡±

    The beaten man grunts. ¡°You heard her.¡±

    When the wide-eyed sentry just continues staring, I prod him by poking his shoulder. ¡°That means you.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Oh, right, right! I¡¯ll do that!¡± He rushes from the building, likely imagining his own chances against my wife, pending.

    Alana holds out a hand to her beaten opponent. When he ignores it in favor of struggling, she grabs him under his arm and hauls him to his feet, marching him to the table and throwing him into the seat he previously occupied. With another grunt of pain, he takes up his pipe.

    We¡¯re back where we started. Honestly, the man could have saved himself some pain if he listened.

    Seeing him settled, Alana comes over to me. I reach out and wipe away a spot of blood on her cheek. ¡°You alright?¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± She holds out her hands for Wenry and I pass along the girl with starstruck eyes. ¡°When the food gets here, bring it up. I¡¯m guessing the top floor of the building is the residence of the village head. We¡¯ll stay here for tonight while we wait for the others to arrive.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the boss.¡±

    Her lips briefly curl in a smile before smoothing out. ¡°Since the man in charge of this village has seen fit to abandon his responsibilities, I believe we can assume he¡¯s also abandoned his possessions. I doubt it¡¯ll measure up to your thrall¡¯s cooking but I¡¯m sure he has something decent secreted away.¡±

    I¡¯m feeling a little weak in the knees. Who is this daring woman that¡¯s wearing the face of my stern knight? Can she stay? ¡°I think we can come up with something. What are you going to do with the food once we have it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to make a point. Do you mind keeping an eye on things through the night? They may be foolish enough to try and assault us in our sleep.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think they won¡¯t try and attack us now?¡±

    ¡°Because they¡¯re cowards. They had superior arms but decided to hold women and children hostage. That tells me they¡¯re not confident in their prowess, even against farmers. I¡¯d assume Borick is the strongest they have to offer. After seeing me take him down bare-handed, I doubt that sentry or any of his friends are going to be eager to take me on. At least in a direct confrontation.¡±

    ¡°Which is why you¡¯re worried about dirty tricks at night. Alright, Alana. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-46

    ¡°Don¡¯t pout.¡±

    ¡°This is not a pout. This is an expression of disgust.¡± I push aside the expensive-looking bottle of wine, apparently made from grapes grown outside Rosentheim, wow. ¡°Am I the only one who¡¯s embarrassed that a half-gob can brew better than anyone in Harvest?¡±

    ¡°Winemaking is not an essential skill. What does it matter to you anyhow? You can¡¯t get drunk on the stuff.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t get drunk off a few weak mushrooms. Besides, it¡¯s about the feeling. He can make a wine as sweet as fruit that burns like liquid fire, warming you from head to toe. It¡¯s nice.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± She refills her glass. Once she sets the bottle down, a small hand reaches for it but the knight is quick to knock it aside. ¡°Hey. None for you. You have plenty of juice.¡±

    Wenry retracts her smacked hand wearing an actual pout. There¡¯s no way I made that face. ¡°Just wanted to try it,¡± she mumbles.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of time to try it when you¡¯re older.¡±

    ¡°Eh, do you think she can afford it? Terrible as it is, I bet this is pretty pricey stuff.¡±

    ¡°I fully expect the locals to raid this place once we¡¯ve gone, consequences or no.¡±

    ¡°Not that there¡¯s much to pillage.¡± I stare at our dinner spread with disappointment. There was nothing fresh in the residence of the village head. All we could find was a quarter bag of flour, a stale loaf of bread, a corner of cheese, and a bag of salty jerky. Sadly, the wine was the best of our haul.

    The rest of the house was cleared out in a similar manner, the floors having no rugs and the walls bare of any paintings. The glasses and plates we found were cracked and so, far less valuable. The furniture is of decent quality but too large for someone trying to make a quick getaway.

    Someone with intentions on returning doesn¡¯t abscond with as much wealth as they can stuff into their carriage. Seems Borick was right to assume that the village¡¯s leader had abandoned them in their time of need.

    I understand. If he¡¯s out of his depth, the last thing he wants is to be held to account by a group of starving people. Still, disgraceful. These people were counting on him and he just abandons them. It always amazes me how people like that end up in positions of power. If you don¡¯t want the responsibility, leave it to someone who does.

    ¡°Should have had Rolly bring back a meal,¡± I grumble while taking another bite of the salty meat. The lueorale was sent back to inform the others about our situation and, if needed, keep an eye on the caravan throughout the night.

    Tomorrow at the latest, she¡¯ll return to assist Alana with whatever the scheming blond has planned for the two villages. ¡°If there was just one decent tasting thing, it could make the rest of this bearable. Something sweet would be nice.¡±

    At the other end of the table, Alana pauses. Before I can ask her what¡¯s wrong, she pushes out her chair. ¡°Come on,¡± she says to Wenry, scooping up the child. ¡°Time for bed.¡±

    ¡°A few more minutes?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    The girl lays her head on Alana¡¯s head and stares at me while being carried into another room. She never warmed up to me but clearly thinks the world of Alana. I hope her little heart isn¡¯t broken. I have no idea how my future saint plans on handling this and, given her performance in the woods, there¡¯s a chance the heroic image the girl has cultivated will be shattered.

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    Alana returns a few minutes later, childless. To my surprise, she doesn¡¯t go for her chair but circles around the back of mine. Two arms slide over my shoulders and loop around my neck as she bends over. ¡°Hey,¡± she says softly, breath tickling my ear.

    ¡°Mm?¡±

    ¡°When you said that something, er, sweet would make dinner better¡­ah, um¡­saints, what am I saying?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop now.¡± I want to see her face but think better of it. She¡¯s probably talking at the back of my head for a reason.

    I smother a laugh as she sighs. ¡°¡­does that something sweet include me?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes.¡± With one hand, I pull the tray we¡¯ve laid out the subpar food on closer. The other hand I slide into her hair to keep her from escaping as I face her. An unnecessary gesture. She¡¯s eager when she sees my approach and moans softly when our lips touch.

    I waste no time pushing my tongue into her mouth to play with hers. Though it¡¯s more bullying as she practically melts against me, slumping against my shoulder as she lets me do as I please.

    After a few moments, I pull away, smirking at the deep breath she takes while reaching for a piece of jerky. It still tastes terrible but I smile wider and whisper, ¡°Delicious.¡±

    I get the expected blush as Alana tugs on my shirt until I stand up. ¡°What?¡± I ask as she grabs the tray. ¡°Going to feed me now?¡±

    ¡°No¡­¡± Her blush deepens. ¡°You didn¡¯t, ah, want any more of this, did you?¡±

    ¡°Not really.¡±

    ¡°Good. That¡¯s good. Could you¡­¡± She tugs at my waist.

    Brows raised, I follow her silent direction and drop my pants, kicking them aside. Turning her eyes away, she tugs at my underwear. More than a little intrigued, I kick them off and aside as well.

    The blond shuffles behind me, urging me to turn and face the closest chair. Then her hand grabs the tray from the table and places it on the seat. An idea, an incredibly outrageous and unbelievably exciting idea, comes to mind. ¡°Are¡ª"

    ¡°Shh.¡± Her whisper is hot and breathy. She urges me a little closer to the chair before both hands move between my legs. Her hands roam over my thighs, her touch slowly becoming more deliberate. I jump as she brushes the head of my gift. In response, her arms hold me tighter. Soft lips brush my neck. There¡¯s a moment of hesitance. Then a tongue licks the same spot, trailing up to my chin.

    ¡°You taste so good,¡± she mutters. I can only manage a grunt in response, more preoccupied with her hands. Soon, she is stroking my full length, exploring what makes me jump and moan. Which makes it very hard to stay still and let her do as she pleases. I somehow manage to grit my teeth and bear it, unwilling to break whatever erotic trance my future saint has fallen into to brazenly fondle me like this.

    I can¡¯t hold back a soft cry as one of her hands leaves my shaft to probe my other source of pleasure, two fingers briefly tracing my lower lips before pushing inside.

    ¡°No, no, no,¡± she mumbles. ¡°Quiet. Don¡¯t wake the little girl.¡±

    Quiet? How does she expect me to be quiet with what she¡¯s doing to me? ¡°You¡­fingers¡­oh, fuck¡­too strong¡­¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± she whispers hotly. ¡°I¡¯ve got it.¡±

    I decide to trust she knows what she¡¯s doing and focus on keeping my voice down, biting my lower lip to muffle the sounds I can¡¯t stop from leaking. A familiar pressure begins to build. Just as I¡¯m about to deliver another warning, Alana¡¯s fingers slip from inside me, both hands pumping my gift while she grinds against my ass.

    ¡°You¡¯re close, right?¡± I nod. ¡°Kierra told me how to tell. You¡­right before, you breathe really fast. And¡­your eyes flutter. Looks a little strange because of all the lids you have.¡±

    My climax isn¡¯t the most intense I¡¯ve experienced but I still have to bite down hard to keep quiet. Alana pulls me against her as I twitch and shiver, her hands stopping their motions as ropes of cum shoot from my cock. She bends me over, guiding the white goo onto the dinner tray.

    By time I¡¯m finished, with my incredible output, everything is coated, liberally. Alana steps away from me and I grab the table with one hand, needing the extra support with my shaky legs. I half-stumble to an empty chair as Alana picks up the tray, putting it in her laps as she sits down.

    Her whole face is flushed as she slowly grabs a piece of jerky. My heart pounds in my chest as fast as her lips tremble as she brings it to her mouth. A small moan slips from my lips as she meets my gaze, mouth opening to accept the cum-covered meat.

    This isn¡¯t the first time she¡¯s shown a liking for my fluids. Before, she literally licked it off the floor after Kierra and I rested from a vigorous fuck. But then she was in a lustful haze induced by my pheromones.

    This? She¡¯s doing this with a clear mind. Saints, she thought of it and made it happen. And that¡­that is a different kind of turn-on from seeing her lose herself to desire. One no less powerful that leaves me hard and aching as I watch her eat with far more relish than earlier.

 ARC 6-Winter War-47

    After watching Alana eat her meal, shiny eyes looking away from me as if she might cry from embarrassment while raising the next bite to her lips, I had to get out of the room before I forgot why I¡¯m holding back with her. Don¡¯t even pause long enough to grab my pants.

    I start with making a lap around the village, both to clear my head and to make sure the villagers aren¡¯t plotting. Unfortunately, they are. Several men are gathered in one of the long communal houses, in an area that seems to have been converted into a make-shift tavern. They sit at several tables with spears laid over the tabletops and mugs of something in their hands.

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious those wenches are mercenaries hired by Shortcreek.¡± Ah, so that¡¯s the name of Wenry¡¯s village. Never bothered to ask. ¡°I bet the one calling herself a James is lying. What would a high noble be doing in these parts? Especially with the campaign coming.¡±

    A few men mutter their agreement but Borick shouts over them. ¡°We aren¡¯t too far from the King¡¯s Road. If she was traveling up from Quest rather than down from the fort, it would make some sense.¡±

    ¡°A guildie? No, no James would leave the fort to go slay monsters. Then the Hall?¡±

    ¡°Eh? Then she¡¯s just a caster in training! We can take her!¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± the sentry from earlier speaks up hesitantly. ¡°We can¡¯t attack her. She¡¯s a James. Her father could raze this village to the ground. We should just give them the food.¡±

    ¡°Then what are we supposed to do over the winter? Eat our boots?¡± The man who responds scoffs. ¡°I¡¯m not saying we hurt the girlie. Just kick her out of the village. Her father might give us a reward for setting her straight. A girlie like that has no business sticking her nose where it¡¯s not wanted.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Borick announces before anyone has the chance to voice another disagreement. Rising from his seat, he drains his mug and slams it down. ¡°But she¡¯s strong. As a James, I have no doubt she knows how to use that sword she carries and if she really has come from the Hall, there¡¯s a good chance she has some magic. We may not be able to force her out of the village, those Victory bastards can be stubborn.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°We won¡¯t kill her! But peacefully or not, she has to leave this village tonight.¡±

    The men roar in agreement while I frown outside the building.

    ¡°And so the climax approaches.¡±

    I jump as Rolly¡¯s voice appears at my shoulder. Sure enough, when I turn, the lueorale is floating beside me, fully visible, colorful tail plume extended. She shakes her head as her body turns blue. ¡°I hope all the villains of this realm aren¡¯t so lacking. Where is the overwhelming strength that inspires dread in small children? Where are the dastardly schemes that makes our poor hero feel as if they¡¯re fighting against fate itself?¡± She sighs.

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    ¡°I prefer my villains weak and simple, thank you,¡± I mutter.

    ¡°Will you run off to inform Alana? Mm, I can see it now. As the crowd of angry villagers surrounds her home, she strides from the doorway, slowly pulling her sword as a thick beam of moonlight strikes her. A gentle heroine ready to deliver hard justice, standing against a small army to protect a little girl she has come to love as her own.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°You have to take a few liberties with the details to make a good story, Lou.¡± She flashes orange. ¡°A legend has to start somewhere.¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°It does sound rather good but the last part may be a problem. We¡¯re not taking Wenry with us. She has a family waiting for her.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Our heroine is torn once she delivers the girl to her parents. Though it pains her to separate, she must, as the path she travels is too dangerous for a weak child. With a heavy heart, she leaves the girl a small token to remember her by and wades into the turbulent waters of fate alone.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re taking a lot of liberties.¡±

    ¡°Thank you! But you should get going before someone sees your less than dignified appearance.¡±

    I glance down at my bare legs, unbothered. ¡°No, she asked me to take care of it.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Then allow me to assist you, my summoner!¡±

    ¡°Assist?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Just walk in and start talking. I¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡±

    -

    Once Rolly tells me she¡¯s ready, I kick in the wall in front of me. Not very considerate to knock down the wall with winter ready to settle in but I don¡¯t take them plotting against us kindly. They¡¯re lucky to get away with shattered wood as opposed to shattered bones.

    As expected, the men startle, over a dozen gazes turning to me. I expect surprise and wariness. I¡¯m not ready for heart-stopping shock and screaming fear. One man literally falls out of his chair screaming. At me. Objectively, a very attractive woman without her pants. What in the Abyss?

    ¡°That¡¯s not what they¡¯re seeing~¡± Rolly singsongs. I assume I¡¯m the only one who can see her. Oh, well.

    I turn to Borick, who flinches. A big man like him who looks like he wrestled draconids in his youth flinches away from me like a scared boy. ¡°You think we haven¡¯t been keeping an eye on you? Of course men willing to sink to pointing blades at women and children would assault us at night. Were you going to sneak in while we were sleeping? Grab the girl and see if your methods work twice?¡±

    ¡°¡­what do you want?¡± Borick asks.

    ¡°What I want is for you to put those weapons down.¡± The men still holding onto their weapons drop them immediately. Two make a run for it, one of them abandoned by the other when he trips and falls. The clumsy man glances back at me and whimpers, putting his arms over his head and curling into a ball.

    ¡­okay.

    ¡°Then I want you to do what you were told. Gather the food you stole and deliver it to us.¡±

    ¡°Alright. We can do that. We won¡¯t make any trouble.¡±

    ¡°For your own sake, I hope that¡¯s the truth.¡± I turn to leave. Pretty sure I don¡¯t have to threaten them further.

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    I look over my shoulder at Borick, who backpedals. I can clearly see the hesitance on his face but he manages to speak up. ¡°What are you doing here? I can just believe a young James happened to find herself in this mess but you¡­¡± He swallows. ¡°What I mean is, is there any way we can convince you not to get involved?¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°Not even the saints could. That James girl is my intended. I¡¯d do anything for her. So, I suggest you don¡¯t give me a reason to get any more involved than this.¡±

    I give him the chance to say something else but he keeps his peace and I walk out the way I came. Once I¡¯m far enough away, Rolly appears beside me again, giggling. ¡°What did you show them?¡± I ask, rather curious after that display.

    ¡°A shadow of what you could become, easily dispelled by the morning sun.¡±

    ¡°¡­do you ever get tired of being vague and mysterious?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-48

    I continue watching the villagers as morning dawns. My little talk with the men was enough to dissuade them from the very bad idea of disobeying Alana. They reluctantly brought all the food to the guardhouse. Bags of grain, crates of pickled vegetables, and several pounds of dried and salted meat. Definitely a large amount of food but I have my doubts it¡¯s enough to feed a village for the whole of winter.

    If this was all they could find, then it seems Wenry¡¯s village was telling the truth about not having enough to trade with their neighbors. These things are more complicated than right or wrong, but what little sympathy I feel lies with the little girl and her family. The misfortune of a bad harvest, the pain of having to reject their friends to preserve their own lives, the fear and anger as they were robbed, and now the uncertainty of having to spill blood to survive. The sorry bastards. Winter has barely started and its already given them a thrashing they¡¯ll be recovering from for years.

    I avoid the village head¡¯s house, as I still don¡¯t trust my ability to restrain myself around Alana. Instead, I waste some time peeking in on the residents, gauging their moods.

    Unsurprisingly, they aren¡¯t happy. By now, the events of yesterday have spread to every ear. The men are quietly worried about the supposed monster accompanying the blonde, which I suppose refers to me, and ashamed having their actions brought to light.

    The women are worried for the safety of their families and panicking at the thought of the future should the food be confiscated. A very tense and morose air. If I¡¯d brought the shuba along, it would have had a wonderful meal.

    Shortly after the sun reaches its zenith, I spot a man crouched in the treeline near the village. The first of the attackers, scouting enemy territory. Not a very good one, as he takes no notice of me as I creep up on him. Doesn¡¯t realize I¡¯m there until I tap him on the shoulder, jumping and screeching like a monster¡¯s grabbed hold of him.

    His fear turns to indignation and confusion a moment after he meets my gaze. ¡°It¡¯s you! What are you doing here? ¡­and why aren¡¯t you wearing pants?¡±

    ¡°Never mind that,¡± I tell him. ¡°Are the others close?¡±

    He immediately becomes suspicious. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re working for those bastards?¡± He spits to the side. ¡°Did they buy you off?¡± His hand flexes as it moves closer to the knife on his hip.

    Is he planning to stab me if I give the wrong answer? Perhaps if I were an ordinary noblewoman, the subtle threat would scare me. As I have no concern about his ability to harm me, I can casually observe my would-be attacker. His trembling fingers and hesitant eyes destroy the menacing image he¡¯s trying to portray.

    I reach forward to snatch the knife from his belt. Surprisingly, he notices and tries to stop me, his hand ineffectively grabbing my wrist. I wasn¡¯t exactly moving fast but the man has good reflexes. Perhaps their decision to attack their attackers wasn¡¯t just a desperate measure. Might there be some decent fighters mixed in with the farmers and ranchers?

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    I still manage to take his weapon with ease. With my other hand, I grab him by the scruff of his neck, as if he¡¯s a disobedient pet. Funnily, he freezes the same way an animal might. Perhaps something about my grip tells him how close to death he is. I could snap his neck with the same ease I used to snap twigs with. ¡°Come on. I need to talk with your friends.¡±

    We march through the trees for half an hour, my escort/hostage struggling to keep up with the pace I set. The men from Wenry¡¯s village look worse for wear. At a quick glance, I¡¯d say there wasn¡¯t enough bedrolls to go around and they had a less than satisfying breakfast.

    Frowns and scowls abound. If they weren¡¯t completely sold on the idea of attacking their neighbors yesterday, they certainly are now. Their expressions scream of potential violence, ready to be unleashed.

    Seeing the two of us doesn¡¯t change that. Wenry¡¯s father shows the slightest hesitation, likely concerned about his daughter who he left in our care, but the leader of their not-so-merry band looks ready to impale me. He stomps up to us and I toss my escort aside. ¡°You! What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s my daughter?¡± Wenry¡¯s father asks. ¡°Did you¡­don¡¯t tell me you took her to that village?¡±

    ¡°Are you working with those bastards?¡± the leader of the mob shouts and the hostility I sense is suddenly directed at me.

    I turn to the worried father. ¡°Your daughter is in the village¡ª" I frown at the indignant roars that drown out my voice. ¡°But we aren¡¯t working with them. My wife has taken offense at this situation and has decided to intervene. For your sakes, I suggest you follow me quietly and submit yourselves to her judgment willingly.¡±

    ¡°Who do you think you are?¡± the leader spits. He takes two steps back and raises his spear. ¡°I gave you the option of walking away but you¡¯re practically begging for trouble! Tell us where Wenry is or saints as my witness, I¡¯ll kill you!¡±

    ¡°¡­put that thing down before you hurt yourself.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think I won¡¯t strike down a woman!¡±

    Shaking my head, I hit the shaft of the spear. There is a loud crack as the thick wood splinters, the iron spearhead disappearing into the nearby brush. The owner of the weapon stares at it in wide-eyed disbelief, slowly bringing the shattered end closer, as if trying to see through a trick.

    ¡°Like I said, if you don¡¯t want to be hurt, put down your weapons and follow me,¡± I say, eying the men who look ready to attack. ¡°If anyone else attacks me, I¡¯ll break you instead of your weapon. You don¡¯t need arms to walk.¡±

    -

    Lucky for them, they listened. The leader¡¯s rage cooled after my display and he calmed down the others. It took a lot of screaming for them to call off their assault but he managed to convince them. After all, their plan centered on catching the other village by surprise. They still thought they could take me but since I likely alerted their targets to the impending attack, their assault was doomed to failure even if they silenced me.

    As no one was willing to turn back without results, he convinced them they may as well see what outside mediators could do. And so, the anxious mob, looking rather deflated with its violent purpose taken away, follows behind me like a line of baby birds. They follow me into the village, stiffening under the glares of its inhabitants as I guide them to the central building.

    As we arrive, Alana steps out, Wenry and Borick trailing her. The father lets out a sharp cry of his daughter¡¯s name, half reprimand, half sigh of relief. In response, she rushes toward him. Cue another emotional reunion. While he is busy trying to determine her safety, she can¡¯t stop trying to tell him about the ¡°lady knight¡± that had saved her and ¡°beat up the bad guys¡±.

    Saint that she is, Alana gives them a few moments, turning her attention to Borick. ¡°Gather your men. Tell them to bring their weapons. It¡¯s time to settle this.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-49

    On one side, there stands the men of the mining village, no name. They are a new village, having only been in the area for three years. They have fewer numbers, with more strong young men than women and children. They have no armor to speak of but plenty of weapons. Each man is holding a spear and knife. Saints, there¡¯s even a few shields.

    Opposite of them are the men from Shortcreek. Family men. They have similar numbers but most of them are middle-aged. As those who labor for a living, they have good physiques, but they are showing signs of exhaustion. Spite is keeping them going more than anything else. Their weapons are also a joke. Even their attitudes have taken a severe blow after meeting their enemies in the open. The murderous mob is now shuffling their collective feet. They are thinking less about revenge and more about survival.

    Before them are Alana and I, myself fully clothed and standing in my future wife¡¯s shadow as she stares them down. She let the silence drag on, her glare and the awkward air snuffing out the last of their tempers. I wish she would get on with it but I hold my tongue. Not my moment.

    ¡°Rolly,¡± she whispers under her breath. In response, a weak breeze tickles the tops of my ears. I imagine the lueorale has also made herself known to Alana because the future saint continues whispering. ¡°Don¡¯t let them interrupt me. I¡¯ll leave the lightwork to you.¡±

    ¡°Lightwork?¡± I mutter.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± my wife says. Straightening her shoulders, she marches forward. All eyes are on her as she clears her throat and raises her voice.

    As she opens her mouth, the sky dims, giving the impression of a coming storm. ¡°Your villages have committed many sins. Sins against your neighbors, sins against the kingdom, and sins against the saints that dedicated their lives to the prosperity of humanity.¡±

    ¡°Us?¡± one of the men from Wenry¡¯s village shouts. ¡°They¡¯re¡ª"

    ¡°SILENCE!¡±

    Alana¡¯s voice cracks like thunder, the sky darkening further. I can¡¯t blame the weak-hearted for the way they jump and stumble away in fear. Even I flinch at the unexpected volume. Rolly definitely had something to do with that. I could feel her shout in my bones.

    ¡°You,¡± Alana continues, looking at the men from the mining village, ¡°acted against your neighbors. You knew they had nothing to spare but selfishly took from them, using their families to force their compliance.¡±

    She focuses on Borick, who opens his mouth only to think better of speaking. ¡°Do you think you should be commended for not harming them? Your actions doomed them to slower and far more painful deaths. In my eyes, what you¡¯ve done is no different than stabbing a man and leaving him to die.¡±

    ¡°And you.¡± It¡¯s the Shortcreek men¡¯s time to face her judgmental eyes. ¡°You are victims of a horrible crime but you are not innocent. Perhaps you didn¡¯t have much but you abandoned your neighbors all the same. The same as the men who robbed you, you knew your actions would doom them to agonizing deaths. Instead of coming together, you decided to save yourselves, no matter the cost.

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak. I can see what you want to say in your eyes. It¡¯s not your obligation to save another. To risk your life to preserve the life of your neighbors.¡± Her lips twist in disgust. ¡°If that¡¯s what you truly believe, then I will walk away now, as you aren¡¯t worth saving. You can snap and tear away at each other like animals and to the victor goes the spoils.¡±

    She stared them down, waiting for someone to take her up on her offer. Obviously, they weren¡¯t interested, turning their heads to avoid her stern eyes. When it¡¯s clear no one will step forward, she scoffs.

    ¡°During the Great War, humanity only survived because we came together. If the strong only cared about themselves, we¡¯d be a shadow of who we are. The only reason you are standing here today is because heroes, the greatest of humanity, laid down their lives to protect everyone. In the eyes of the saints, you are all failures. A part of me believes it would be better to let the Abyss take you. Luckily for you, I believe in what I speak. Despite your shameful displays, I will not abandon you. But you will face punishment.¡±

    Everyone leans toward her as she pauses, including me. It¡¯s like waiting for the finale of a play. I¡¯m eager to see the conclusion.

    ¡°My judgment¡­is that neither village will have the food.¡±

    Despite her demand for silence, several exclamations answer her declaration. Both groups are equally offended. A few faces look ready to take their chances in a confrontation. They¡¯re interrupted by the rumble of the sky but there is no accompanying flash of light.

    ¡°What is the true problem you face?¡± she asks in the silence. ¡°Is the lack of food? The onset of winter? The lack of support from your lord? No! It is the division between neighbors. I ask you, what happens if you receive the food and your neighbors starve? Do you think this matter ends there? You know it doesn¡¯t. Blood will be spilled. Not just between you. Blood begets blood. Your villages will hold grudges that will send generation after generation against one another, everyone involved ready to take vengeance for their ancestors. Over and over until they forget their reason for fighting and the conflict claims more lives than a single season ever could.

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    ¡°Victory has faced many harsh winters. There have been days where I¡¯ve only had a single bowl of watery soup, going to sleep with an empty stomach. Many times, it seemed there would never be enough. But we survived because the people came together.

    ¡°Instead of marching on one another, you should be marching through the forest, looking for plants to forage. Instead of pointing blades at your friends, you could be hunting, stockpiling meat and hides. And not only will you save yourselves today, the next time a crisis strikes your villages, you will come together to solve it again. Your children will have reliable allies as opposed to bitter enemies.¡±

    The dark sky brightens, a ray of light falling on Alana. I¡¯m not the only one who gasps taking in the sight of her confident stance amongst a crowd of irate villagers, short blond hair gleaming and blue eyes clear as the small creek we found Wenry crouched beside.

    ¡°Hear me. Only by working together will you survive. However, you have the choice of where you will direct your efforts. Will you fight against winter? Or¡­will you fight me?¡±

    She pulls her sword from its sheath. Then she tosses it aside. I¡¯m not the only one whose mouth gapes at the action. Does she not see all the pointy weapons in these people¡¯s hands? She¡¯s good but what is she going to do if they surround her?

    ¡°It¡¯s embarrassing to say but I¡¯m too unskilled to guarantee your safety while fighting with blades. If you lay down your weapons, I won¡¯t take anyone¡¯s life. Come. All of you were so eager for a fight. Here¡¯s your chance. Your life is guaranteed and no one will interfere.¡±

    She looks to me as she says that. I grit my teeth and try hard to communicate with my eyes that there¡¯s a limit to that request. Neither Kierra nor Geneva are here. There¡¯s real danger in this challenge. If they surround her with those spears¡­

    ¡°What are you all hesitating for? You were ready to slaughter each other for the food earlier. All you need to do is take me down. One woman. Come on!¡±

    At her provocation, one of the men from Shortcreek drops his pitchfork and runs at Alana with yell. She¡¯s unfazed. Her expression doesn¡¯t change as she turns to face him. Weaving out of the way of his clumsy punch, her fist snaps his head back with an uppercut and a cross sends him to the ground.

    That¡¯s the que for the brawl to start. The rest of the men from Shortcreek drop their weapons and run at her. If it were Kierra or myself, it wouldn¡¯t be a fight. It¡¯d be a slaughter. Their numbers would mean nothing. If they tried to encircle me, I¡¯d pick the closest one up in throw him at his friends. Jump over their heads and rush them from behind. Saints, I could just ignore them. Common weapons wielded by laborers can¡¯t harm me.

    Alana doesn¡¯t have that luxury. They may be unskilled but they can hurt her if they get in a lucky blow. As such, she has to continue moving. Each step is calculated, every strike carefully weighed. In the whirling, chaotic tumble caused by the men anxious to take her down, she is like a snake, slipping between them with ease and knocking them down with decisive blows.

    Kierra¡¯s training is not about technique. She taught me to be aggressive, to be comfortable in my body, and to leverage my gifts. She fights much the same, less a martial artist and more a natural disaster in a woman¡¯s skin.

    Alana is different. She has technique. Every action flows seamlessly into the next, whether it¡¯s another attack, a block, or a dodge. Not a single motion is wasted. She accurately keeps track of multiple opponents, revealing a true talent for combat. Despite that, she doesn¡¯t get out unscathed. The odd blow manages to reach her but she doesn¡¯t retreat a single step. Slowly, one by one, she knocks them down. Even the men from the mining village who drop their spears to join the brawl.

    Several minutes later, most of the men are on the ground. Alana stands in the middle of them. Her hair is tousled, she¡¯s covered in dirt from rolling on the ground, and a cut on her brow is bleeding but she¡¯s victorious.

    ¡°Go home to your families,¡± she says between panting breaths. ¡°Hug your loved ones and be grateful for the opportunity because, if I were like you, all of you would be dead now. Thank the saints you¡¯re all alive and ask yourselves how you¡¯re going to stay that way.¡±

    She steps over them, heading toward me. ¡°Load the supplies onto a wagon and let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lady,¡± I respond, feeling a silly smile curl up my lips.

    -

    ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± I ask while jogging through the woods, pulling a wagon behind me. The ground is uneven and the trees are a nuisance but without having to carry a child, we¡¯re making much better time.

    Alana, seated on one of the crates and holding onto the side of the wagon tightly, yells over the rushing wind. ¡°Like I said, the biggest problem isn¡¯t the lack of resources, but the villages¡¯ animosity. Without the food to squabble over and with a common enemy to hate, they won¡¯t try to kill each other. It opens the door for cooperation but even if they don¡¯t work together, at least they won¡¯t have to worry about their neighbors raiding them at night.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re both in trouble now, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Of course. The difference is, they¡¯ll have to focus on acquiring food now. They¡¯ll scramble like mad hens to procure food, any food. The will to survive is strong. They¡¯ll find something. And when we return what we¡¯ve taken, it¡¯ll be enough for them to survive the winter.¡±

    I chance a look back at her, heart thumping at her smug smile. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t think I was actually going to steal food from starving people, did you?¡±

    Well, I am pulling a wagon full of stolen goods.

    ¡°Once we reach Victory, I¡¯ll send someone back with the food and anymore we can obtain. I¡¯ll also investigate the lord of this territory. The village head of the mining village should have alerted him to the problem. Given that he fled, we can conclude that the lord was less than helpful or concerned. I¡¯ll help them but, in the meantime, they can reflect on their actions and perhaps learn a valuable lesson.¡±

    Heh. That¡¯s my future saint.

 ARC 6-Winter War-50

    As expected, the caravan is safe and sound, every brick and beam of wood accounted for. The Squiddies¡¯ goodwill did not extend to delaying their schedule for an indefinite amount of time, they couldn¡¯t have known we¡¯d only be gone for one night, and so they have departed. A welcome surprise.

    After over a week with no incidents, I¡¯m beginning to seriously doubt the hunters of Quest will make a move. If not, there¡¯s no reason to travel with a bunch of jealous acolytes who actually complained to their leader that I was having fun and didn¡¯t invite them.

    Alana and I load the supplies into one of the covered wagons. Food is a bit too precious to simply hitch to the back of the caravan. Nothing has been brave enough to attack us yet, but if we leave food at the end of our wagon train like bait at the end of a string, something is bound to bite. The empty wagon is put at the end. No sense in wasting it.

    Grabbing Alana¡¯s hand, I grin as I lead her to the carriage. She can¡¯t hear what¡¯s going on inside but I can. Seems my wife took my absence well. I expected nothing less.

    As the door swings open, I practically drown in the heavy musk of sex that rolls out. Even Alana, with her duller senses, is affected. Or perhaps it¡¯s what¡¯s inside that makes her suppress a surprised yelp and squeeze my hand.

    Seated on one of the benches is Kierra, completely naked and utterly relaxed as she sips from a bottle of Herbanacle, from the smell. The sunlight illuminates her body, her summer green skin glowing under the golden light, but doesn¡¯t reach her narrowed eyes, giving her a dangerous air. It¡¯s not helped by her smile that flashes her overly sharp canines.

    On the opposite bench is a scene that would have shocked the me before marrying my deviant of a wife. My lovely imp has reverted to her virtue form, a woman carved from living stone, dark as a moonless night besides the twin pools of lava that are her eyes, a crown of curved horns across her brow. Seated in her lap is Cloud, also naked, a mix of toned bronze skin and dark brown fur. One of her hands grasps a horn while the other is pressed against the wall in front of her.

    She doesn¡¯t seem aware of our presence as she raises herself high, exposing the thick black cock attached to the succubus that was previously sheathed inside her. Then she slams back down, letting out a deep groan.

    Bell¡¯s eyes glow as she channels her magic. Her mouth opens and a slimy black tongue, thick and long, rolls out. Saints, that thing is farlonger than mine. It¡¯s more like a tail. I don¡¯t know how she plans on fitting that back in her mouth but she clearly has no intentions of doing so soon as she runs it over every bit of skin she can reach. It eventually comes back to Cloud¡¯s neck and wraps around it, cutting off her moans.

    While the tamer gasps for breath, Bell grasps her under the arms, lifting her up before slamming her down, thrusting her hips to meet her. Faster and faster, Cloud¡¯s choked off moans growing breathier and coming more rapidly.

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    ¡°Lou!¡± my wife greets cheerfully, completely unconcerned about the young woman getting brutally fucked by a succubus an arm length away from her. Or perhaps that¡¯s the reason for her good mood. No telling with this elf.

    I grin as I pull a slightly hesitant Alana into the carriage, settling her beside me as I sit beside Kierra. She pulls me into a hug and I naturally bury my nose between her breasts. Mm, never get tired of this. ¡°I missed you.¡±

    ¡°After only one night?¡± she asks with a chuckle. A hand moves through my hair. ¡°My Lou is so spoiled. Alana. You¡¯re injured.¡± Her words are laced with a question and a hint of danger. She may think of Alana as my ¡°flower¡± but she is a part of our house. My wife won¡¯t take kindly to anything threatening her.

    ¡°Hm?¡± I don¡¯t need to turn to know the future saint was too absorbed in the show producing the wet smacking sounds throughout the carriage to be paying proper attention.

    ¡°Your wounds.¡±

    ¡°Oh. They¡¯re just scratches.¡± I¡¯m forced backward as my wife leans toward her. I can guess she¡¯s healing the scratches and bruises, as there is no reason to leave them. Alana¡¯s quiet thanks confirms my theory.

    ¡°What injured you?¡±

    ¡°A small disagreement.¡±

    Oh no, she doesn¡¯t. ¡°She fought a whole village of men,¡± I brag for her, raising my head from my wife¡¯s chest. ¡°Kicked all of their asses while managing not to hurt them.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s eyes practically sparkle and Alana¡¯s turns her head as the elf¡¯s smile widens. ¡°Battle wounds?¡±

    ¡°It was hardly a battle. I was fighting farmers and miners. It¡¯s better described as knocking sense into squabbling children.¡±

    ¡°Children wielding spears and knives.¡±

    ¡°They dropped their weapons!¡±

    ¡°Only because they were scared of you.¡±

    ¡°A victory is a victory,¡± Kierra interrupts, her tone brokering no argument. ¡°And victories must be celebrated, lest you invite misfortune in your next battle.¡± She passes over the bottle of Herbanacle. After a moment of grumbling, Alana takes it with a roll of her eyes. Distracted, she is not at all prepared for my wife to grab her. I deftly move aside as she is settled on Kierra¡¯s lap.

    ¡°Hey! You¡ª" Her protest are cut off by Kierra¡¯s kiss. Unsurprisingly, she doesn¡¯t try to complain for long. Away from prying eyes, Sweet Alana makes an appearance, the confident knight who scolded an entire village turning into a shy maiden as Kierra pulls her closer.

    A flash of light catches my eye and I turn to a corner of the carriage. Rolly hovers there, a faint pink, lounging in the air. She waves a small hand at me before winking out of sight.

    Chuckling, I scoot to the end of the bench and stick my head out of the carriage, mentally calling for the last member of our group. In moments, she rounds the back of the carriage, white dress billowing from a sudden breeze. ¡°You called, my summoner?¡± she asks sweetly, pink eyes reminding me of the peeping elemental in my carriage.

    ¡°Can you get us moving?¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? It would make certain¡­celebrations a bit harder, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°That just makes it more fun, hehe.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Honestly? I¡¯m sick of traveling. More than ready for this trip to be over with.¡±

    ¡°I take it we will not be rejoining the Grand Squires?¡±

    ¡°Saints, no! Skirt around those idiots and get us to Victory.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, my summoner.¡±

    On a whim, I shift to my hand to my elemental form and hold out a finger. She¡¯s as eager as ever to bite off a piece of me, tail whipping fast enough to stir up a small breeze as she walks off. Chuckling, I shift back and close the carriage door. The moans surrounding me grow louder, echoing faintly.

    Mm. I have a feeling the journey will be a lot more fun from now on.

 ARC 6-Winter War-51

    Harvest wasn¡¯t always the safe and relatively peaceful kingdom it is today. When humanity arrived on the continent we call home, it was a wild place. Vicious manabeasts who had called the land home for years did not take kindly to the sudden intrusion nor could they be reasoned with.

    Not to mention the goblinoid hordes at the settlers¡¯ back and, though no texts make reference of it, whatever civilization they found here. If we¡¯ve built an entire kingdom on this land, it stands to reason that another race could have done the same. Maybe humanity was truly the first sentient race to find this land but if we weren¡¯t¡­those weren¡¯t peaceful times.

    Now, after the manabeasts have been pacified, the treacherous woods thinned to build cities, and the fields filled with crops, it¡¯s easy to forget our bloody origins. Especially while in the colorful capital of Summer Spire or the bustling city of Quest. The same doesn¡¯t apply to Fort Victory.

    The fort, a massive, unattractive construction of gray stone against a gloomy sky is a frank reminder that we fought for every piece of land we claim as ours. No, that we continue to fight for it, though the threats may not be obvious.

    There¡¯s Aggro, the elemental who claimed the city of Fortitude to the east. Graywatch¡¯s endless battle against the sea to the west. The south seems peaceful but saints help us all should the elves decide to cross the Enchanted Forest, either for conquest or a bit of fun.

    To the north, past the dark mountains that loom in the distance, lies, according to the fanatic knights of Victory, the greatest threat of all. The Lords of Winter, supposedly intelligent manabeasts and their monster armies.

    Creatures strong enough to live in the land of hostile cold year-round. Year after year, for centuries, Victory has warred against them, yet there are always more to fight. Thousands and thousands of powerful monsters led by an intelligent commander. It¡¯s not hard to see why they are fearful of the north.

    I have seen many things since the day Crowley Cain grabbed me from the King¡¯s Road and I met the elemental that changed my life. My standards, in many regards, have been drastically altered. It takes much more to awe me these days but my first glimpse of the Victory manages it. ¡°It¡¯s bigger than I expected,¡± I mumble as I look out of the window.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that big,¡± Alana mutters. She is far from eager to be returning home. The opposite. Since the fort came into sight, she¡¯s been pensive, her frown deepening with each passing moment. ¡°The fort itself. It blocks the widest path through the mountains. Since it¡¯s elevated, it looks bigger than it really is.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I can also see¡­a village?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been centuries since Victory was built. The campaigns¡­well, they aren¡¯t as intense as they once were. The knights used to swear vows that they would come back victorious or not at all. Whole armies disappeared at a time. Now, their dedication isn¡¯t quite as¡­suicidal. The knights retreat. More survivors mean the population of Victory became too big to house in the fort.¡±

    ¡°Hence the sprawl.¡± The smattering of buildings seems rather disjointed. And the styles are too varied. I can¡¯t make out much, even with my eyes, but I can tell that the buildings are divided into groups. Some are tall and skinny. Some are squat with slanting roofs. Others are more artistic, with arches and curves as opposed to harsh corners.

    ¡°The fort is home to the James family and the Order of the Bleak Moon, the order sponsored by us. There is also a contingent of the royal army always stationed here to man the walls but it¡¯s a token gesture from the crown. If there was an attack, fifty odd men won¡¯t make a difference. Especially as Victory is considered a punishment posting, given to the unruly or disgraced. Combined with the craftsmen sponsored by the family, the servants, and associated family members, the fort is full to bursting.

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    ¡°Originally, the other orders only built their training halls outside the fort. However, as the population grew, they also built housing for their students. For convenience, their own craftsmen and servants came, requiring more houses. More students came, old knights retired. Eventually, it became the mess you see.¡±

    ¡°Then each of the different buildings represents a different order?¡±

    ¡°And the people associated with them.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°They may live very close but they might as well be separate kingdoms. The orders have carved out territory and govern it like lords. It¡¯s¡­I don¡¯t mean to make it sound sinister but it¡¯s just how things are.¡±

    ¡°Sort of like the guilds in Quest.¡±

    ¡°The big difference is that the James family is unquestioned here. My father has the final say in all things but he respects the independence of the different orders.¡±

    That sounds incredibly messy. Yet, it represents Harvest as a whole. The king is ultimately in charge but delegates his authority to the nobles beneath him. He gives us land and must respect our ability to rule it. The same as the duke trusts the orders¡¯ ability to raise soldiers and keep the peace. In that regard, I would say the arrangement works much better in Victory. From the sound of it, the duke can rely on the orders while the capital has those like the Masons, formerly the Grimoires, sinisterly spreading their influence.

    I settle back in my seat and close the wooden shutters. ¡°We should make it to the fort in a couple of hours.¡± It¡¯d be sooner but we¡¯ve decided to slow our pace. No need to startle a very large village, which honestly looks more like a disjointed town, full of armed and well-trained individuals by barreling through their midst. ¡°If there¡¯s anything you want to say, now is the time.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think I have something to say?¡±

    ¡°Sweetie, you look like you¡¯re riding to your execution.¡±

    Her lips twitch at the pet name but it¡¯s not that easy to remove her frown. ¡°Maybe we are. You¡¯re¡­we¡¯re¡­¡± She takes a deep breath, fighting a blush. ¡°Our house is strong, incredibly so, but you really are underestimating the Peaks. There was a time when the force assaulting that land was an army of masters, trained in a time of war. They still failed to claim so much as a league of land. Couldn¡¯t erect so much as a temporary shelter to return to the next campaign.¡±

    I sigh. ¡°Maybe.¡± When I try to temper my expectations about our success in the Peaks, I imagine the cold wasteland is home to a remote clan of elves. Those maniacs, at least the elves of Dusk, would probably happily settle in such a place. Saints, they might consider it a vacation.

    Or, if not elves, some other race. During the Great War, many races were forced from their homes. Who is to say the winter lords aren¡¯t a sentient race that fled the rampaging draconids and found a home in Harvest? That would be far worse than an intelligent monster.

    Or, saints protect us, what if it¡¯s a race of sentient draconids? They were also forced to flee their homes. While most used their natural strength to steal new ones, it¡¯s possible some merely found an empty place to rest their scales.

    I can think of horrible scenarios all day long but it won¡¯t help. Better to be confident in our ability than fearful of the enemies. How am I supposed to win if I think victory is impossible? ¡°I¡¯ll keep it in mind but this isn¡¯t about the Peaks, is it?¡± She¡¯s never flinched in face of a fight. ¡°This is about that fort and who¡¯s inside it.¡±

    She hangs her head. ¡°It¡¯s stupid. I already made my decision but¡­¡±

    It¡¯s my turn to frown as I contemplate what to say. What someone could have told me to give me the confidence to escape my mundane life and go after my, at the time, modest dreams. My mind remains blank as the words refuse to appear.

    I settle for throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her closer. Reminding her I¡¯m here. That she has my support and, if she wants, we can forget this whole thing.

    I wouldn¡¯t mind spending my winter somewhere warmer. I could take her to the Dusk Province. Visit my mother in-law and maybe the rest of my wife¡¯s family. Plenty of fighting to be done, if we want, and far more fun to be found.

    She closes her eyes and rests her head on my shoulder. The silence is comforting rather than tense as we complete the last leg of a long journey.

 ARC 6-Winter War-52

    We come to a stop well before I expect. Given I intended to ride straight into the fort, and hopefully secure a room there, coming to a stop before entering the village brings a small frown to my face. I gently shift Alana off my shoulder but my efforts not to wake her amount to nothing. She blearily wipes her eyes while asking, ¡°Are we there?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Something¡¯s¡ª" I¡¯m interrupted by a knock on the door. I open it and Kierra appears in the doorway. Oh no. She¡¯s wearing her bloodthirsty smile.

    ¡°A few cubs are demanding to speak to our leader. That would be you, dedia.¡±

    ¡°Bandits?¡±

    ¡°Victory doesn¡¯t have bandits,¡± Alana says with a touch of offense, the subject matter making her alert. ¡°Describe them.¡±

    ¡°Five young men wearing brown cloaks lined with black fur. Armed.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like the Order of the Waking Beast.¡±

    ¡°Waking Beast?¡± I ask.

    ¡°They¡¯re¡­¡± She rubs her brow. ¡°Honestly, they¡¯re a bit of problem. The Beast Order, as it¡¯s usually called, believe that killing a creature and eating its meat gives the one who does a fraction of its power. As a result, they hunt down anything that moves. They are also incredibly aggressive. Fighting is like breathing to them and they don¡¯t care about the consequences. I heard one of their knights killed one of his fellows because he didn¡¯t like the other man¡¯s haircut.¡±

    ¡°Sounds¡­annoying. I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s a good reason why they¡¯re blocking the road?¡±

    ¡°No official one. Even if an official force was established to keep the peace and monitor the people entering the village, no one in their right mind would use the Beasts to do it.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Alright, let¡¯s see this done.¡±

    Kierra chuckles as she jumps out of the doorway. Alana and I follow. Cloud waves to me from her place on the driver¡¯s bench, looking completely relaxed despite the interruption. The five men in front of our carriage look just as relaxed, wearing identical smug smiles.

    The thin layer of snow crunches underneath my boots as I step in front of them, my wives, one pending, flanking me. ¡°Good afternoon, gents. I am Lourianne Tome, an acolyte from the Hall here to assist in the next campaign. You needed to speak to me?¡±

    ¡°Heh. You¡¯re the boss, huh?¡± The man in the lead sniffs the air like a dog. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. The green one smells much more dangerous.¡±

    I¡¯m quite curious what that means. I also doubt he¡¯s going to make any sense. Something tells me the Beast Order is not filled with intellectuals. ¡°Nevertheless, I am in charge. Now, are you going to tell me why you¡¯ve interrupted us? I would like to reach the fort before nightfall.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Then we¡¯ll make this quick. We¡¯re the Order of the Waking Beast, the best order in Victory.¡± The others let out loud whoops and jostle each other. ¡°Every campaign, we¡¯re at the front of the battle, taking down dozens of those winter bastards. But to keep the fight going, we need¡­supplies.¡±

    He greedily eyes my many wagons. ¡°So, visitors like you are charged a small amount to support the war effort. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I do.¡± You¡¯re robbing me. ¡°But I would think as I also intend to participate in the campaign, I should be exempt from your¡­toll. For the war effort, you understand.¡±

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    The speaker doesn¡¯t like that. He spits to the side. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much you think you¡¯re going to contribute with four people. All you outsiders think this is a game. You should leave the fighting to the people who know what they¡¯re doing and go somewhere warm.¡±

    ¡°Tempting, but no.¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Fine, but you¡¯re not passing through this village without giving us what¡¯s due. Let¡¯s say¡­three wagons?¡±

    ¡°Three?¡± If they had asked for a few coins, I might, might, have considered paying to avoid trouble and keep in good standing with the orders. I can¡¯t go making enemies everywhere. Probably wouldn¡¯t have but I would have thought about it.

    This? They¡¯re not even pretending this is anything but extortion.

    ¡°We¡¯re being generous as we¡¯re future comrades.¡± One of the men snickers until a punch to his shoulder shuts him up. ¡°You¡¯ve got plenty. Sure you can spare that much for comrades.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m carrying.¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s essential for the war effort.¡±

    ¡°And if I refuse?¡±

    One of the men pulls a large sword off his back. Saints, it¡¯s nearly as tall as he is. His thick arms don¡¯t show any strain as he gives it a demonstrative swing. An outstretched hand from the speaker stops him from doing anything else. ¡°Like I said, you¡¯re not going any further unless you pay your due. Don¡¯t make this hard on yourself. Think about the¡­ladies with you.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re the one who should be considering my companions.¡± I turn to Alana and raise my brows.

    There is no trace of her earlier hesitance as she steps forward. One hand goes to her waist, fingers twitching as they don¡¯t meet the expected hilt of her sword. No, she didn¡¯t travel armed. Guess she didn¡¯t expect a fight outside her house.

    ¡°I am Alana James, second daughter of Erenhart James, the reigning duke of Victory. I am sure my father will be very interested to learn that the orders are harassing allies come to assist us in our war against the Peaks.¡±

    The men falter at her declaration, turning hesitant and confused eyes on each other. They talk in low tones, obviously intending for it to be a private conversation, but they may as well be screaming to me.

    ¡°Daughter? Why would the duke¡¯s daughter be out of Victory?¡±

    ¡°And her name¡¯s Yulianna, not Alana.¡±

    ¡°You sure you remember it right? They¡¯re kinda similar¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m sure idiot! It¡¯s the James family. The daughter¡¯s name is Yulianna and she married that Devil bastard. There is no Alana. She¡¯s lying! She doesn¡¯t even have their dark hair!¡±

    ¡°Ah, wait. I think I remember something about a blonde girl training with the Moons. Yeah, I might have sparred against her when we did our cross-training.¡±

    ¡°That just means she was taken in because she has some talent. Just another dreamer who thinks the James family adopted her. Come on!¡±

    This is¡­offensive. I know Alana is a bastard and was only acknowledged by her father after many years of living in obscurity. However, I was under the impression that afterwards, she was welcomed into the family. For these people to not recognize her name and doubt her very existence. That is¡­very telling of my future wife¡¯s relationship with her father.

    They turn back to us, the speaker frowning. ¡°Nice try, girlie, but we¡¯re not falling for such a stupid trick. Leave the wagons or this gets ugly.¡±

    Alana flinches. Just the slightest bit. She doesn¡¯t want to show how much their disregard of her identity bothers her but I was waiting for it. It¡¯s my time to frown.

    I truly can¡¯t stand anyone insulting her. Even unintentionally.

    ¡°A counter-offer, gents. Leave now and we can forget this ever happened. No grudges will be carried past those mountains. What do you say?¡±

    ¡°Oi, are you crazy?¡±

    ¡°If you knew who you were threatening, you¡¯d be asking yourself that question.¡±

    He glances at Kierra. Maybe he really can smell danger. Too bad he can¡¯t sniff out the hidden succubi just waiting for my order. ¡°¡­even if you can take us down, the Beasts will remember you. Don¡¯t think you¡¯ll leave Victory in one piece.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m willing to take my chances.¡±

    The speaker snorts. With one more glance at Kierra, he waves for the others to clear the road. They make noises that sound suspiciously like growls. Shockingly, Cloud answers them with a growl of her own, a deep and ominous sound that doesn¡¯t seem like it could come from a woman her size. They look at her with no small amount of shock and pick up their paces.

    ¡°Smart choice.¡± With a wave to our almost robbers and future comrades, we climb back onto the carriage. Cloud needs no prompting to get us moving.

    ¡°We¡¯ll remember you, Tome!¡± the speaker shouts as we pass, yelling over the noise of our passing.

    I¡¯ll remember you as well.

 ARC 6-Winter War-53

    Shortly after we leave behind the aggressive knights, in the loosest sense of the word, we are brought to a stop. This one is expected and the ones doing the stopping are no thieves. They are true knights, the stern frowns they¡¯re undoubtedly wearing obscured by their helms as they watch us step down from our carriage and go about inspecting my cargo.

    I stare up, and up, at the towering wall of the fort. It¡¯s not my first time seeing a wall. The capital has plenty and one surrounds Quest. They are walls meant to keep out wild manabeasts and theoretical armies, as there has never been an actual war in the history of the Harvest kingdom. The conflict with Aggro doesn¡¯t count. Rather than a war, that was a one-sided siege we realized we couldn¡¯t win.

    This wall¡­I don¡¯t know what it is meant to keep out but it must be titanic. It truly towers over me. If I hadn¡¯t enhanced myself beyond all human capabilities, I¡¯d imagine I¡¯d hurt my neck with how much I have to crane it to see the top. It¡¯s also thick. Thick enough that I can make out men walking along the top of it.

    The twin towers at either end are even taller. I bet they can see the whole of their ramshackle town and well beyond from there. No chance any force sneaks up on them. Also very good for taking down aerial threats. There aren¡¯t many dangerous flying manabeasts in Harvest, that I know of, but maybe it¡¯s different in the north. Who knows what comes out of those mountains?

    As impressive as the wall is, I can only stare at the bleak stone for so long. My attention moves to the knights rummaging through my things and blocking us from continuing. They have the usual full-plate armor, painted dark blue. Where most armors are polished to a shine, theirs seems to¡­turn it away. Makes it seem darker than it is.

    They don¡¯t have the half capes knights in the capital favor. Fur sticks out from the joints of the metal. I have to smother a chuckle at the thought that it makes them look fluffy. Their helmets, with fur along the sides and the top, don¡¯t help the impression.

    I¡¯m deeply curious but there is a solemness in the air that keeps me from voicing my questions. Something about the fort is¡­heavy. It would be easy to act against the mood but I¡¯m a bit wary of making a fool of myself. This is Alana¡¯s home. The thought of making things more complicated for her makes me hesitant.

    ¡°Sir!¡± One of the knights comes jogging from the back of the caravan, coming to a stop before the knight blocking us from proceeding. My eyes move to the crescent moon painted on the back of his breastplate. Moon. Ah, these must be members of the Order of the Bleak Moon. The order sponsored by the James family. According to some people, and the oldest traditions, the only true knights of the Victory. My curiosity deepens but I hold my tongue.

    The jogging knight comes to a stop, pounding a hand to his chest twice before continuing his report. ¡°We found nothing unusual.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Back to your post.¡±

    ¡°Sir!¡±

    The leader turns his gaze to us, his helm throwing a menacing shadow over his hard brown eyes. Kierra and Geneva are unaffected. Alana stiffens. I smile, hoping to take a little weight off the air. It doesn¡¯t work.

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    ¡°Listen here, hunters. You are here to fight our enemies and, for as long as that remains, that makes you allies. That does not make you one of us and Victory does not take kindly to outsiders. The lot of you are being housed on the north side. You can¡¯t miss the bunks. Give your mounts to one of the servant boys and he¡¯ll see them to the stable. Keep your heads down, your noses out of places they don¡¯t belong, and respect our ways, no matter if you agree with them or not. Do that, and you¡¯ll be just fine. Don¡¯t, and you won¡¯t last long enough for the monsters on the other side of the gate to tear you apart. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Perfectly.¡± Once again, Alana, the daughter of the ruling lord, is not acknowledged. Once again, she is not even recognized. While incredibly insulting, I¡¯m not surprised after our run in with the borderline bandits from earlier. However, I am surprised that Alana doesn¡¯t slap them with her title. Why is she taking this?

    ¡°Good.¡± The man turns his back on us, showing a quarter moon painted on the back of his breastplate. In his hands, he holds a simple spear. He turns it so the end¡¯s out. He lowers into a stance, body tense as he stands before the gate. I can almost feel his concentration. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he strikes, the end of the spear hitting one of the metal bands reinforcing the wooden gate.

    I wince at the sharp clang that rings out. From how loud that was¡­if that was a regular door, it¡¯d be splinters now. Maybe dust. One thing I know for certain is that this man is strong. Physically. There was no sign of any magic being used. Can he use magic too? Saints. Using the knights I¡¯m most familiar with as reference, the doorman for this place is probably ten times stronger than the Ironcast brothers.

    There is a loud creaking as the gate is slowly raised. The gatekeeper turns back to us. ¡°Welcome to Victory. May your swords stay sharp and your hearts keep warm.¡±

    ¡°Victory or death,¡± Alana says suddenly.

    His gaze turns to her and the look in his eyes changes. I wouldn¡¯t say he softens. It¡¯s¡­yes, I see it. He hadn¡¯t really been looking at us. We were just another group of outsiders. Nuisances to be endured for the sake of the war effort.

    But once she says those words, he looks at us, properly. Then he nods, apparently approving of what he finds. ¡°Victory or death, sister,¡± he replies, before stepping out of the way. Two other knights standing on either side of the gate knock on their breastplates twice. Alana gives them both nods of acknowledgment before turning on her heel and climbing onto the carriage. I follow her with furrowed brows and wait until we¡¯re moving before asking my question. ¡°Victory or death?¡±

    ¡°Those are the only options,¡± she says absently.

    For the first time, a bad feeling twists my guts and I doubt my decision to come here. People warned me about the physical dangers, the cold and the monsters. My body can easily handle those. However, no one warned me about the attitudes. The hostility. The unnerving conviction. Not even a day in this place and I have the distinct feeling that something is wrong here. That disturbing saying is enough to make me nervous. What kind of place is this where ¡°Victory or death¡± replaces a simple goodbye?

    On the opposite bench, Kierra hums happily. ¡°What a wonderful place.¡± She closes her eyes. ¡°The smell of blood and fear. The clashing of weapons. The tension, the excitement.¡± Her eyes open. ¡°It has been too long since I have indulged in war.¡±

    Indulge, she says. Like it¡¯s a hobby.

    ¡°Are we still going straight to the house?¡± I ask. The gatekeeper told us to keep going north, to an area that seems to have been set aside for the hunters. It¡¯s rather obvious that the duke isn¡¯t expecting her and that promises to be an awkward reunion. More importantly, Alana has gone from looking tense to two moments from hurling. The least I can do is offer her a way out but knowing her, she won¡¯t take it.

    ¡°No.¡± She straightens her features. ¡°We go to the house. I am a James daughter and you¡¯re my guests. We won¡¯t be sleeping in the bunkhouses with the outsiders and servants.¡±

    Thank the saints. I was getting worried but there¡¯s that stiff spine and cool confidence I love. Something tells me she¡¯s going to need every speck of courage and daring she can muster if we¡¯re going to survive this place, let alone make our marks.

 ARC 6-Winter War-54

    Unsurprisingly, I am glued to the window as we enter the fort. And saints, is it a sight to see.

    A light snow falls from the gloomy gray sky. Not enough to be a problem but more than enough to justify thicker clothing and cloaks. Packed away in my luggage is a simple cloak. Completely unnecessary in keeping me warm but something to blend in. It seems like an unnecessary precaution as the first people I see are bare-chested and barefoot. Young men running in neat lines while an older man, also bare-chested and barefoot, runs beside them, shouting expletives.

    That isn¡¯t the only point of activity. In fact, the whole area is bursting with activity. Carriages move back and forth, pulled by massive¡­donkeys? It¡¯s hard to tell with the thick, shaggy hair covering their bodies but they are shorter than horses and stout. Despite that, they move at a quick pace. So fast it¡¯s rather amazing there are no accidents. If there are any roads or markings to direct people, they¡¯re covered by a layer of snow. Despite that, no one seems to have any problem getting where they need to go.

    It¡¯s not simply restricted to the ground. There is plenty of activity in the air. Like the men running in lines on the ground, another group, this one dressed in full armor, flies in formation overhead, dipping, rising, separating, and coming back together when the corresponding order is shouted at them.

    Once we¡¯ve rode for several minutes, I see a very interesting sight. A circular field. At least, I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s a field from its flatness. Stakes have been driven into the ground around its edge and rope tied between them. Thoroughly unremarkable if not for the seating arranged around it.

    Long, curved benches made from what looks like compacted earth. Most likely the work of an earth caster. It takes eight benches, long enough to seat ten people, to encompass the whole of the circle. They are arranged in rows of six, each one raised higher than the one before it, ensuring every member of the crowd will have no problem seeing the festivities. For some reason, I don¡¯t think they invite jesters and musicians to play for them.

    We take a right at the field and I feel a small twinge of nostalgia as we ride past several fields. It reminds me of being on the Foundation Fields at the Hall, though the training I¡¯m witnessing is far more intense.

    On the first field of those closest to us stand a line of heavily armored combatants, enough metal and fur covering them to make them thick as trolls, holding shields tall enough to shield even their impressive bulk. Before them, is a giant creature with white fur, powerful limbs as thick as logs, long teeth that jut out of its mouth, and angry eyes. More impressive is the bare-chested man holding the creature with one hand, fingers twisted in its first.

    I watch as the man lets it go and it runs forward, throwing its formidable bulk at the knights with all its might. The ones in its path brace but it makes a quick turn, aiming for another part of the line. It finds its new targets just as prepared. Their shields come together as they brace for the impact. The poor monster doesn¡¯t stand a chance, bouncing off the metal wall with a pained yowl. As it struggles to its feet, its handler grabs it by its fur and drags it backward.

    The next field is more tame. Men in armor doing drills, one half swinging their swords while the other jabs out with spears. I suppose it¡¯s impressive how they are so coordinated. There is no variance or hesitance in their motions, as if they are being controlled by one mind rather than shouted orders.

    The last of the fields is hardly worth mentioning in comparison. A gathering of boys and girls of varying ages, none of them having reached adulthood, doing their best to imitate those on the field in front of them. They are dressed but not enough for a sane person. The young ones shiver, red-faced, as they practice their swings but the older trainees endure the low temperature with bland looks.

    That must be the group Alana talked about. Youths with talent that the duke sponsors, training them up to join the Bleak Moons. The group Alana joined once her father acknowledged her existence. Saints, did she endure the same thing? No wonder she¡¯s so fearless. As a girl, she learned how to swing a sword while watching men push back massive monsters, knowing if they failed, the thing could tear her apart in seconds.

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    Off to the side are a few buildings with deeply slanted roofs, including a stable that houses more of the shaggy-haired donkeys. And, finally, I get my first glimpse of the James manor.

    I don¡¯t know what I expected. A smaller fort made of gray bricks, short, blocky, and as unattractive as it is sturdy. A tall, iron gate with monster heads mounted all along it, birds pecking out their eyes. Many other blurry visions of imposing might and effortless intimidation.

    Instead, a simple estate is revealed. Sure, it has a few oddities. There is a gate, though it is made of ice of all things. The sloped overhang over the entrance and the roof are both made of grooved metal sheets from what I can see, something I¡¯ve never seen and no doubt incredibly expensive. Then of course there are the swords buried in the yard. I suppose it¡¯s too cold for a garden but there had to be a better option than stabbing several dozen blades into the ground. It¡¯s not very welcoming.

    With dark blue and white paint that reminds me of the knights from earlier, the gloomy picture that is the James¡¯ family home is complete. I find it hard to picture anyone having a happy childhood here.

    My poor saint reinforces that opinion with her stiff frown as she prods me into dismounting the carriage. She waves for us to stop before the overhang over the front door. What the¡ªis she not even allowed to walk up to her own home!? This is getting ridiculous.

    Nevertheless, I wait beside her, getting snowed on, as we wait for someone to notice us. Thankfully, that happens relatively quickly. A sharply dressed manservant steps with silver hair, deep wrinkles, and a hard stare steps out, leaving the door open and pausing at the end of the overhang.

    Alana places a hand over her heart. ¡°The daughter of the north has returned sword in hand, ready to strike down our enemies.¡±

    ¡°Alana.¡± Despite his age, the servant¡¯s voice is deep and powerful. ¡°The howling winds of the north call your blood to battle once again. You fight against overwhelming numbers and impossible odds but, as a James, you must lead the brave into the worse of winter. Do you accept your duties, knowing all it entails, including its consequences? No one will judge you if you turn away now.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± she returns solemnly.

    He bows at the waist. ¡°Then welcome back, young Lady James. May your swords be sharp and your heart stay warm. Victory or death.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Bulliard.¡±

    I follow Alana as she steps into the house. The first thing that greets us is a wave of warmth. An unnatural one. My eyes flick about, searching for the source. Eventually, I look up and spot the gleaming red of a fire affinity stone embedded in the ceiling. An enchantment then.

    After ascertaining that, I glance at the welcoming room. One of the more important rooms in a noble estate, a proper one. It gives visitors a sense of their host and their values. From the large hearth, mounted heads of manabeasts, and copious number of furs lain over the floor and thrown over the furniture, the values off the north can¡¯t be mistaken.

    ¡°My lady.¡± Bulliard bows his head beside us. ¡°Your father gave word that he wanted to see you upon your arrival. I will show your guests to their rooms.¡±

    Again! It¡¯s more subtle but the disrespect is obvious to anyone accustomed to the ways of nobility. Never, and I do mean ever, does a servant tell their master what they are going to do. He was very close to telling her what to do!

    This is¡­unthinkable. The Tome family are basically beggars compared to the nobles of the capital but our servants, the few of them we had over the years, never dared to speak to my father that way, nor me.

    ¡°They will be put in the room besides mine.¡±

    The servant furrows his brows. ¡°My lady¡ª"

    ¡°It is necessary. Kierra.¡± She looks over at my wife. ¡°Make yourself comfortable while I have a chat with my father.¡±

    At least Alana isn¡¯t letting it faze her. If anything, she¡¯s getting angry. So angry she just gave Kierra an order, haha. Is she preparing to lash out? That¡¯d be a sight to see.

    Or maybe she¡¯s thickening her hide in preparation of a worse emotional beating.

    Luckily, my elf can read the room and doesn¡¯t complicate matters. She reaches for the manservant. He instinctively attempts to dodge her grasping hand. She moves faster, grabbing him by the shoulder and surprising him, from his wide eyes. ¡°Come, old soldier. Take me to where I shall sleep.¡±

    ¡°¡­right away. Young Lady James, your father is waiting in the training room.¡± With my wife¡¯s strong grip on his shoulder, the manservant bows his head once more before walking off, Kierra right behind him.

    Left alone, I reach for Alana¡¯s hand. I take it as a good sign that her hand clasps my fingers tightly rather than pull away. ¡°Ready?¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°I should be asking you that. I have no idea how he¡¯s going to react.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell him about us right away.¡± I have a feeling it¡¯d go over much easier after we return victorious, heh, from the Bleak Peaks.

    ¡°My father does not take well to anyone hiding anything from him. And I think us sleeping in the same bed will raise questions.¡±

    I grin. Thought we¡¯d be separated since we have our own room. ¡°If that¡¯s what you want, I¡¯m all for it.¡± She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. ¡°Say the word and we¡¯ll leave this house. We never have to come back.¡±

    She snorts. ¡°You¡¯re wrong, Lou. I¡¯ll always come back. Victory or death. There¡¯s no other choice.¡± With those ominous words, she squeezes my hand and pulls me deeper into the house.

 ARC 6-Winter War-55

    Belatedly, Alana directs me into taking off my shoes. We store them in a tall cabinet against one of the walls, exchanging them for slimmer shoes with no heels that are plush, lined with fur, and sinfully comfortable. They are also snug and warm. I swear I¡¯m going to have a pair made if I don¡¯t outright take them.

    Afterwards, she guides me through the house. After going down a long hall, we enter a trophy room. By trophies, I mean the natural ones. The hunters and nobles who wish to look fearsome of the capital are content with putting heads on their walls. Even my wife is only interested in skulls.

    Not so for the lord of Victory. He has whole corpses on display. A large fox with two tails. An enormous bird with wings long enough to cover the entirety of a wall. A stag with a single, spiraling horn that looks to be made of blue crystal. All manners of creatures populate the room, crouched as if ready to pounce on those passing by or posed as if the subject of a master painter. Their hides are brushed to a sheen and in place of their eyes are precious gems that catch the light coming through the windows.

    What interests me is that every creature here has a light coat. White, gray, silver, very faint blue, and black dominate their coloring. If the theme holds for the whole of the north, then our enemies are going to be hard to spot. I have a bad feeling the campaign will be suffering many ambushes.

    ¡°Beast artists are popular in Victory.¡±

    I come back from my thoughts at Alana¡¯s voice. She steps up to a large bear looking creature with¡­fins? Very long fins instead of hind legs and a long, flat tail. ¡°Their methods differ. Almost all of them start by cleaning the skeleton. The best artists create a stone model that encases the skeleton, then stretch the skin over it but that takes a master earth caster and sculptor. Preferably both in one but that¡¯s incredibly rare as most of our casters are combat oriented.

    ¡°It¡¯s far more common to pose the skeleton with wood and string then stuff it, though there¡¯s a lot of variances there as well. Children or beginners without the crowns for good materials might use snow, which works fairly well if they keep their creations cold. The more common filling is rocks, crushed to gravel. The better ones use wool or cotton for stuffing, which is absurdly expensive but you know how powerful people are. Nothing but the best.¡±

    I shake my head. People waste good gold stuffing dead animals for decorations. If the evidence didn¡¯t surround me, I¡¯d never believe it. ¡°And the gems?¡±

    ¡°Ah. I hear the eyes are the hardest part. No, gems aren¡¯t the norm. The better artists use glass. Don¡¯t ask me how they make the pieces so small. Or color them.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    ¡°Come on.¡± She tugs on our joined hands. ¡°We don¡¯t want to make Father wait too long.¡±

    I let her continue guiding me. As she opens the opposite door of the trophy room, I¡¯m forced to squint from a sudden glare. A quick drop of a ¡®film¡¯ later and the painful light abates and I take in the sight with interest.

    Alana guides me down a long, narrow corridor with another door at its end. On either side, the wall is divided into two parts. The lower half is drab gray stone, nothing surprisingly. The upper half is clear glass, stretching from one end of the wall to the other. It¡¯s occasionally broken by slender metal rods. I¡¯m guessing frames to hold the glass in place. Still, quite impressive. Especially the view.

    On either side is a spotless field of white snow, the small amount falling from the sky too gentle to disrupt the tranquility of the moment. Here, sheltered from the cold and strangely warm, it¡¯s rather¡­pretty. I wonder if the residents of Victory would hang me for thinking such.

    Alana pauses as we reach the opposite door. After a strong squeeze, she lets go of my hand. I look toward her but she ignores my gaze, staring straight forward. ¡°Lou, whatever happens in there, don¡¯t interfere,¡± she says in a grave tone.

    ¡°What¡¯s about to happen, Alana?¡± For her to say something like that, it¡¯s clearly something I¡¯m going to disagree with and that makes me very nervous.

    ¡°I am about to be welcomed home, the James way.¡± She lets out a deep breath before looking at me. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡­we¡¯re going to raise all kinds of trouble before this is over but this moment¡­not now. This is for me to handle.¡±

    She turns and pushes open the double doors in front of us, not giving me the chance to respond. I have no choice but to follow her into the room or be left behind. The doors close behind us with an ominous thud.

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    There is nothing pretty about this room. The long wooden floors would remind me of a ballroom if not for the racks of weapons, bladed on one side, wooden on the other. Near the top of the gray walls are long rectangular slits, impractical for seeing through but enough to let in copious amounts of light. Several sets of armor in different styles stand along the back wall, posed with a fist against their chest. And the front¡­

    At the front of the room is a small stone altar. Seated on its top is a small bowl, a tall candle on either side of it. A banner with a brilliant full moon held in the jaws of a vague but fearsome beast on it hangs on the wall, two mounted longswords crossed over it.

    Seated in front of the altar is a man. All I can see of him are his dark hair streaked with silver, his broad shoulders, and his calloused feet, but Alana¡¯s reaction is enough to make a guess as to his identity.

    She holds out an arm, telling me to stay back. Then she kicks off her shoes and steps into the middle of the room, standing with her arms against her lower back. ¡°I have returned, Father.¡±

    The man doesn¡¯t react to the words immediately. The silence drags on and on, until my feet shuffle with the urge to leave the overbearing tension.

    It feels like a small eternity but I wager only a few minutes have passed. An incredibly long time to acknowledge someone¡¯s greeting but Alana told me to stay out of whatever happens. I imagine that extends to the continuing trend of disrespect toward my future wife.

    With the pace of a glacier and the grace of a dancer, as much as hate to admit it, the man rises. His arms move before he bows toward the banner. Only then does he turn around.

    The resemblance to my future saint is immediately recognizable. That brow, that chin, that nose. She¡¯s practically a copy of him, albeit a softer one. She certainly inherited her steely gaze from him. His blue eyes might as well be ice for how cold they are as he looks at her.

    ¡°Alana.¡± Despite his age, his voice is deep and powerful. ¡°Pay your respects.¡±

    She promptly hits her chest with a fist, pounding it against her breast after each sentence she shouts loud enough to echo off the high ceiling. ¡°Glory to the ancestors! Glory to the warriors of Victory! Glory to the James family!¡±

    ¡°I hope your time in the sun hasn¡¯t thawed your ability, daughter. Pick your weapon.¡±

    She briskly walks toward the rack holding wooden weapons, grabbing a replica of her sword before returning to the center of the room. Rather than her usual stance of holding the sword behind her, she holds it upright in front of her, her hands holding the hilt tightly.

    Her father leisurely closes the distance between them. I can only describe it as leisurely but it¡¯s the nonchalance of an apex predator sauntering through its territory. He stops at a dueling distance, arms at his side, his expression not changing by a twitch. ¡°Come.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t hesitate to attack, stepping forward and bringing her sword down in a vicious chop. There¡¯s a brief flash of green mana as her father deflects the blow. She recovers instantly and launches into a series of attacks but he blocks them with contemptuous ease. He¡¯s swatting away her attacks like she¡¯s an annoying fly.

    The exchange ends with one of the deflections causing her to stumble. As if she knows what¡¯s coming, she hurriedly tries to guard with her free hand but she isn¡¯t fast enough. The loud clap of an open palm hitting skin makes me wince as he tosses her aside. Behind my back, one hand grabs the opposite wrist, the motions helping me remain in place.

    Don¡¯t, Lou. She asked me not to interfere. Not now. Hold it in. He¡¯ll get what¡¯s coming to him. Soon. Sooner than he thinks.

    ¡°You held onto your weapon,¡± her uncaring brute of a father says as she climbs to her feet. ¡°And you¡¯ve grown stronger. Sending you to the Hall wasn¡¯t a waste of time. Ready yourself.¡±

    Licking her bleeding lip, she returns to her starting position, retaking her stance without a word of complaint.

    ¡°Come.¡±

    The one-sided beating lasts for several minutes. She swings and he deflects. Waiting for a mistake to knock her down. Staring at her apathetically as she struggles back to her feet and presents herself for the next blow. I stand to the side, tense as a drawn bowstring as I struggle not to intervene.

    I don¡¯t know why it upsets me so much. It isn¡¯t any more brutal than Kierra¡¯s training. Saints, she¡¯s far worse. It¡¯s something about his demeanor. My elf may break bones but she restores them lovingly and holds you while you cry bitter tears of regret before restarting the torture. This man. He is¡­dismissive. Somehow, that makes him far crueler in my eyes.

    As I watch him abuse the woman I love, and I can use no other word no matter how I try to frame it in my mind, my dislike for the man morphs into disdain and edges close to hatred.

    Finally, the disgusting show comes to an end. Not by Alana. She¡¯s far too stubborn. Huffing in pain and no doubt covered in fresh bruises, she struggles to her feet for the fifteenth time. She retakes her starting position and holds her weapon with grit teeth. Anyone can see she¡¯s in no condition to continue but she still doesn¡¯t offer a word of complaint.

    ¡°Enough.¡± At least her father isn¡¯t a complete bastard who enjoys inflicting pain on his daughter. Seeing she can¡¯t continue, he calls the beating to an end. His eyes remain emotionless as she collapses, sitting on the floor with her head bowed as she takes deep breaths. ¡°Your stamina has improved as well. Enough to keep up on the next campaign. You¡¯ve done well, Alana.¡±

    She raises her head, face carefully blank. My heart sinks. Because, though she likes to think she¡¯s a stone wall when she wants to be, I¡¯ve gotten fairly good at reading her. It helps being able to see the tiniest twitch of her lips as they move into the beginnings of a smile before she manages to smother it. Saints damn it all, she¡¯s happy. ¡°Thank you, Father.¡±

    ¡°We will discuss your training until the departure at dinner.¡± For the first time, his eyes move to me. His brows furrow the tiniest amount as I meet his gaze head-on. Perceptive bastard, this man. ¡°Who are you?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-56

    ¡°Lourianne Tome, your grace,¡± I declare, hoping my tone communicates how terrible of a first impression he¡¯s made.

    ¡°Tome. What is a summoner from the capital doing in the north?¡±

    I had all manner of subtle insults prepared but his recognition brings them all to a stop. Saints, I¡¯m always shocked when someone recognizes my family name. ¡°You¡­know my family?¡±

    ¡°Many come to Victory in hopes of proving themselves, either to themselves or their families. We have employed many weapons in our war against the creatures of the north, summoning amongst them. There are records of a Tome attempting to replicate the feat of your ancestors by speaking with the lords of winter during the reign of my grandfather. He never returned but he left several pages of theories. Summoners are fond of writing.¡±

    If Alana weren¡¯t still seated on the floor, carefully controlling her breathing, I might have forgotten my swift disdain of the man and amended it to a much more favorable opinion. As it is, I smother my excitement at the revelation. ¡°Yes, well, I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t need to speak on the value of tradition to the duke of Victory.¡±

    ¡°No. Alana, why have you brought a summoner?¡±

    Alana freezes. Then she climbs to her feet. Again, I know her well of enough to see the apprehension behind her blank mask. ¡°She is my bannerwoman.¡±

    Her father shows the most emotion he has so far, heavy brows furrowing. ¡°You would give that honor to a girl you have known for less than a year?¡±

    This man is truly trying my patience.

    ¡°In less than a year, I have come to know her¡­intimately.¡± Heh. Only a small smile touches my lips. ¡°There is no one I would rather entrust with the duty.¡±

    They stare at each other. Alana is the first to break, dropping her head.

    ¡°There is a chance any child of the James family may lead Victory in the future. Being a leader means making decisions with confidence and accepting the consequences, whether they be good or ill. So be it. Lourianne Tome will be your bannerwoman. The keeper will record it in the Book of Banners tonight.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Father. I would also request access to the records pertaining to all summoners who¡¯ve visited Victory.¡±

    ¡°Some of those records are sensitive documents. Why should you and your bannerwoman be granted access to them?¡±

    ¡°It will aid the war effort. Lou is the best summoner in the kingdom. If anyone can build on the feat of her ancestors, it¡¯s her.¡±

    The smile on my lips stretches a little further. Even I am not so bold as to confidently declare myself the best summoner in the kingdom. Certainly the most accomplished. I doubt any contracted elemental can match Geneva¡¯s prowess. Geneva, Bell, and Rolly? If someone has secured a contract that measures up to half of their combined potential, power, and knowledge, especially as they¡¯d have done so without my seven affinities, I¡¯d have no choice but to acknowledge them as a unparalleled master of the craft.

    ¡°Very well. I will have them sent to your rooms.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Father.¡±

    ¡°I do not need thanks, Alana. Only results. I will you see you at dinner. I suggest you take the opportunity to educate your bannerwoman on a few of Victory¡¯s customs.¡±

    Alana flinches but says nothing. I step away from the door as the duke walks toward me, not even sparing me a glance as he walks from the building. I wait for the doors to close behind him before hurrying over to her. ¡°What in the soul-sucking Abyss was that?¡± I snarl as I wrap an arm around her waist. With my support, she stops pretending to be strong and sags against me.

    ¡°A warm welcome,¡± she says sarcastically. ¡°While the James heirs are all expected to participate in the campaigns, Father wouldn¡¯t send me to my death. Normally, the test is carried out by a servant or a member of the Moons. I suppose it¡¯s an honor he decided to do it himself.¡±

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    ¡°How is smacking you to the ground repeatedly a test?¡±

    ¡°You saw it. He had to use magic to deflect my sword.¡± She grins proudly. ¡°Before, he batted it aside like it was nothing. If it had an edge, I doubt he could dare to block it with his bare hands. If my blade is enough to threaten my Father, it¡¯s enough to cut down the weaker beasts of the north. Which means I won¡¯t be dead weight at the beginning and can protect myself deeper in the Peaks.¡±

    I push down my reflexive want to argue the point, recalling my many days of training with Kierra. Compared to the elves, the duke smacking around his daughter a little to test her growth is practically coddling her.

    We put back on our shoes and exit the small building that seems to be a space dedicated to training. ¡°What did he mean, teach me a few of Victory¡¯s customs?¡±

    Alana winces and catches my arm, bringing me to a stop. When I turn to look at her, her head is bowed. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± She sighs. ¡°I¡­when he asked about you¡­a part of me wanted to declare our¡­relationship¡­but¡­¡± She sighs again.

    I wrap an arm around her neck and pull her toward me, pushing her face into my chest. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Alana.¡± Seeing the man in person, I understand her hesitance. Am I thrilled? No. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s out of line to be a little nervous that she lost some courage staring her father down but I believe in her. She could have called me her lackey but instead she called me her¡­actually, what did she call me? ¡°So, what is a bannerwoman? I imagine that¡¯s what he meant.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­come on.¡±

    Once more, she guides me through the house. I take it as a good sign that she reaches for my hand on her own, the few worries in my heart from the meeting with her father dissipating. Once we are in the trophy room, she moves to the large bird taking up one wall, ducking beneath one of its great wings.

    Behind it, is an inconspicuous door that seamlessly blends into the wall. I only realize it¡¯s a door when Alana pushes on the stone and it gives way. She shivers as she pulls me through the thin opening. I can easily see in the darkness but she fumbles for a torch mounted on the wall just inside the room. She vaguely holds it toward me and I oblige her silent request by lighting it with a weak spell.

    I expected the soft torchlight to reveal a room full of treasures, more of the gems embedded in the eyes of the animals outside, maybe some corpses plated in gold. Perhaps an armory. Instead, this secret room within the most well-guarded residence in the kingdom, I suspect, holds¡­paintings.

    Portraits of men and women. All wonderful pieces held in ornately carved frame of soft wood or gilded in gold. Both men and women are displayed but there¡¯s a common theme amongst them. Each and every one seems to be a warrior, posed wearing varying amounts of armor, holding a weapon, or sometimes both. Many of them have the dark hair and square jaw of the duke but there are variances, especially in the portraits on the second wall.

    That is where Alana pulls me, holding up the torch. This wall isn¡¯t entirely covered in portraits. Compared with the wall next to it, it seems like a row and a half have yet to be filled. I quickly recognize one of the portraits as a younger version of the duke.

    ¡°Every member of the James family has their portrait done before their first campaign.¡± The in case they don¡¯t return doesn¡¯t need to be said aloud. She points out her father. ¡°That is my father, Erenhart Thanaren James. The boys of the family take the names of their fathers as their middle name, the girls their mother.¡±

    ¡°Then yours is¡­¡±

    She frowns and turns her head. ¡°Beside him are my aunts, Anastasia and Faith.¡± I guess that¡¯s a question she doesn¡¯t want to answer. I follow her finger has she points out a dark-haired woman with plain features but severe eyes. ¡°Aunt Anastasia was gored through the stomach during a campaign. They managed to save her life but she lost the ability to have children. She retired from active duty.¡±

    Her finger moves to the portrait on the other side of her father, a young woman with her hair cut to her ears and a big, infectious smile, leaning against a sword taller than she is. ¡°That¡¯s Faith. She died.¡±

    ¡°Ah. My condolences.¡±

    ¡°It happened when Father was young. I never had the chance to know her.¡± Her finger moves on, landing on the portrait following Faith, starting a new row. It shows a young man in formal clothes with a thin blade on his hip, his hair unusually long for a man and a thin, confident smile on his lips. ¡°That is Erenson James, Father¡¯s first son.¡±

    Wow. Erenson Erenhart James. No one would ever guess he was named after his father.

    ¡°He had a simple wind affinity but was incredibly talented. Had a gift for cultivating his mana core and was considered a genius by his tutors. Completed his first campaign at thirteen. Father¡­he was the first son between him and his first wife. They also say he knew Eren was special from the day he was born. It was a given that he would be the next duke and people said he might be the man to finally beat back the winter lords.¡±

    ¡°Would?¡± I ask, noticing she talked about him in the past tense.

    ¡°He died seven years ago during another campaign. No one¡¯s sure what happened exactly. There weren¡¯t many survivors.¡± Her lips press into a thin frown. ¡°It was right before my I was tested and my affinity discovered. Some days¡­I think the grief is the only reason Father softened his attitude toward me. He had to have known about me before and there are plenty of James bastards running around. Losing Eren¡­¡± She shakes her head. ¡°He was cold before but he smiled, occasionally. The servants say they never saw him grieve but everyone knows it destroyed him.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-57

    ¡°Saints.¡± It¡¯s hard not to feel bad for the man. Goes a long way to explaining his attitude. I haven¡¯t forgiven him but my anger toward him has subsided. A little.

    The next portrait is a big change from the rest as it shows a handsome man with bronze skin and dark brown eyes. His hair is wavier compared to the other men of the James family, cut short on the sides and combed backwards on top. Four gold hoops hang from his ears as he smiles for the artist.

    ¡°Before you ask, he has a different mother. Kalise of the Broken Wing Tribe. A fighter from the south.¡± She sighs. ¡°Barbarian, really.¡±

    ¡°Like our elf?¡±

    She snorts. ¡°No. Kierra is¡­she has¡­¡± Her fingers make interesting gestures as she attempts to describe my wife. Or rather, describe her without complimenting her and admitting that she¡¯s attracted to her, heh. ¡°Kalise is a rude, nasty brute. Father married her because she¡¯s a master caster. It¡¯s¡­kind of an unspoken tradition. One wife for status, one for power, one for pleasure.¡±

    I gape at her. ¡°Are you telling me it¡¯s normal for every duke to have three wives?¡± I knew there had to be some kind of compensation for staying in this cold wasteland.

    Alana quirks her lips. ¡°Didn¡¯t you ever wonder why I never got upset about you pursuing multiple women? Sleeping with them right in front of me.¡±

    ¡°I just thought, well¡­¡± It¡¯s very obvious that it excites her.

    Her face colors as she clears her throat. ¡°Yes, well, that too. Anyway! Father married Kalise for strong heirs. That¡¯s their first son, Easton. He died the year after Eren. They say he pushed too deep into the Peaks, trying to prove himself. I think¡­I think I talked to him once, when Father introduced me to my siblings for the first time. He called me a replacement.¡±

    Oof. He doesn¡¯t sound like a charming man but that means the duke lost two sons, one right after the other.

    ¡°Beside him is their second son, Deverou.¡± Another handsome man, though his looks are somewhat ruined by his father¡¯s strong nose. ¡°He died two years after Easton.¡±

    Saints bless this family, three?

    ¡°Beside him is Zachariah, or Zach.¡± Next to the third dead son is a young man with broad shoulders, cropped dark hair, and hard gray eyes. In his portrait, he stands tall, one hand holding the end of a war hammer, the head resting on the ground, a large white fur draped over his shoulders.

    ¡°Water affinity, much loved in Victory, even over fire. Excellent fighter and commander but not one for the more mundane aspects of ruling despite being the apparent heir. Luckily, he has competent men under him who can help with the administrative aspects of managing the fort.¡±

    I let out a sigh of relief. A part of me was dreading she would announce he had died as well. I still don¡¯t like the duke of the north but my anger toward him has been thoroughly quashed under the weight of his loss. If he has no emotions, it¡¯s because grief has viciously ripped them from his chest.

    ¡°Beside him is Thanazen, named after our grandfather, Thanaren, as he shared the same dual affinities of fire and water.¡±

    My gut tightens. There it is again, the past tense. Don¡¯t tell me¡­

    ¡°Loads of potential but Thanazen wasn¡¯t¡­¡± She sighs. ¡°If he were born anywhere else, I don¡¯t think he would have ever learned to swing a sword. As it was, he had lots of expectations on his shoulders. He had a cooler head than Zach, so some favored him as the heir, but this is Victory where your worth is proportional to how much enemy blood you spill. He could do nothing without proving himself beyond those mountains.¡±

    Four. The duke has lost four sons. And his younger sister, now that I think about it. Not to mention all the friends and subordinates he must have buried. If he was born with an ounce of compassion, rather than fault him for being cold, I suppose I should applaud him for not going mad.

    Or¡­perhaps this is the norm. He and his family can keep going because they expect nothing else. Maybe those three wives aren¡¯t an indulgence of dukes long past but a necessity to ensure there are enough heirs that one lives long enough to succeed the family.

    Also, I am no longer surprised that the James are unquestioned here. Most times, the nobles send the peasants they govern to do the dangerous and dirty things. It is a rare thing to find a noble clearing out monster nests, dungeons, or hunting down bandits. They are in positions of leadership but rarely raise their hands.

    This family has suffered the same losses as any other. Mayhap more. I don¡¯t think it would be an exaggeration to say the north has been watered with their blood.

    Next to the dead brother is another bronze skinned man, though his face is obscured by a dark hood. Unlike his brothers before him, his weapons are quite subtle, two daggers tied to his belt. While the others are painted in heroic poses, his portrait is gloomy and dark. As if the artist wants the copious amount of shadows in the room to swallow the man whole.

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    Alana has a complicated look on her face as she moves her pointing finger to him. ¡°That is Khan, the youngest son of Kalise.¡±

    ¡°Why is he so¡­¡±

    She winces. ¡°Brother Khan has an¡­interesting idea of how to conquer the Peaks. Rather than pushing into the area with pure strength, he thinks we need to put more resources into scouting.¡±

    ¡°A sound idea, I think.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it sounds good on paper. The problem is that it can¡¯t be done. Large scouting parties will be ambushed. Small groups may go unnoticed for a while but once they are noticed, they¡¯re doomed. Scouts don¡¯t return from the north. Rather than waste the time and resources, better to train another soldier to stand in the shield line so the campaign can push deeper.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­¡±

    ¡°Except Khan is an exception. He has a water affinity but his real affinity is for sneaking. The man can stand right beside you and you wouldn¡¯t know. It¡¯s eerie. Luckily, that also applies to monsters. He is the only man who has gone beyond the Peaks alone multiple times and come back to tell the tale. Saints, he spends most of his time there. He only returns for a few days to rest and restock.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like an incredible person.¡± Not someone who deserves the obvious disfavor shown by the portrait.

    ¡°Remember, your worth is directly proportional to the amount of enemy blood spilled. A scout is not a fighter. He refuses to participate directly in any of the campaigns. Some see his work as cowardice, running away from combat. It doesn¡¯t help that he renounced his right to inherit. He is the only son beside Zach but has made it clear that even if his brother dies, he won¡¯t be the next duke. He also loudly declared his refusal to father any sons.¡±

    I grimace. Victory may seem like a different world but some things are universal. The only thing a noble house cares about more than power is its heirs. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that didn¡¯t go over well with your father.¡±

    ¡°If it were anyone else, Khan would have been declared a coward and driven from Victory. Maybe even executed. But Father is a rational man. Khan¡¯s maps are important. However, he can¡¯t show favor to a coward. So¡­¡± She gestures toward the portrait.

    ¡°¡­is your brother here?¡± I very much want to talk to the man with the most extensive maps of the Bleak Peaks.

    ¡°No. We¡¯d have to be incredibly lucky to run into Khan.¡± She sighs heavily as her eyes move to the last portrait. I purse my lips as I take in the beautiful woman with a heart-shaped face, big blue eyes, charming smile, and long, glossy black hair. If she¡¯s half as beautiful as the artist has portrayed her, I¡¯m sure she¡¯s set the hearts in this cold land aflame. Interestingly, she is the first person I¡¯ve seen painted without a scrap of armor on. Instead, she wears a lovely blue gown that matches her eyes wonderfully. However, there is a bow leaning against the legs of her chair.

    Normally, I¡¯d be very interested in meeting such a woman but from her narrowed eyes and tense jaw, my future saint does not like whoever this is. Not at all.

    ¡°Finally, the last of the ¡®official¡¯ children. The beautiful rose blooming in the frost of the north. The balm to every wounded warrior¡¯s heart. The oh so lovable Yulianna James, my only sister.¡±

    There¡¯s so much repressed scorn in her tone that I¡¯m scared to ask for details but Alana needs no prompting.

    ¡°As I spent the first twelve years of my life as a servant, she was the duke¡¯s only daughter for a long time. No talent for gritty combat. Far too soft and fragile. But that¡¯s okay. She¡¯s just so wonderful and pretty, there¡¯s no need for her to wield a sword like everyone else. There are plenty of knights willing to fight for her honor. All she need do is stay home and be lavished upon.¡±

    I¡¯m really hesitant to dive into this obvious pit of snakes but I¡¯m curious. ¡°And your father has no problem with that?¡±

    She hisses. ¡°There is more than one way for a daughter to do her duty. She did one campaign, the bare minimum to be accepted as a member of this family, and got her war wounds. Right after, she retired from active duty and married the Northern Devil. They¡¯ve already had their first son.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯ve deviated from the reason I brought you here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Good to have the background on my in-laws.¡±

    The frown from talking about her sister eases. ¡°My father¡¯s older sister was permanently crippled and his younger sister died. Half of his children are also dead. What I mean to say is, the north is dangerous, even for the James family.

    ¡°A bannerman or woman in this case, is the most trusted companion of a knight, or any fighter who chooses to name one. They fight alongside the knight and, should the knight fall, the bannerman carries out their last will. Returns their body, if able, and takes care of any unfinished business the knight may have had, including caring for their families.

    ¡°It is especially significant for members of important families. That is because, to carry out their duty, the bannerman is given control of all the fallen knight¡¯s assets. They can¡¯t claim a single crown for themselves but their words are final, an extension of the fallen knight¡¯s will.¡±

    I suck in a sharp breath. There are¡­so many ways that can be exploited.

    ¡°While they are carrying out the fallen knight¡¯s will, the bannerman¡¯s actions are the actions of the knight they are representing. Their good deeds or bad deeds reflect on that knight or that knight¡¯s family.¡±

    Saints. ¡°Not that it would ever happen but are you telling me that if you were to¡­¡± I have to force the word out. ¡°If you were to die, as your bannerwoman, I could march into Victory with a claim on everything you own and use it as I see fit with the authority of a James?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m telling you. Which doesn¡¯t mean much for someone like me but Zach¡¯s bannerman? Khan¡¯s? My father¡¯s? Yes, it¡¯s a very important position. There are going to be a lot of eyes on you, Lou. Everything you do and say will reflect on me and, to a lesser extent, the whole of the James family.¡±

    Her blue eyes freeze me in place. Never have I seen her so serious. ¡°Which is why I want you to be exactly who you are. I¡¯m here to impress them. You? You¡¯re here to utterly crush them. Embarrass them. Make them¡­¡± She lets out a sharp breath. ¡°Make them feel as small as they made me feel.¡±

    I recover from my temporary stasis with a shiver going down my spine. Under the stern eyes of her ancestors, I gently grab Alana¡¯s chin, tilting her face up and laying a quick kiss on her lips. Heh. There were a few times in our burgeoning relationship where I wondered if my¡­nature would turn her away. In the end, that nature is what she wants, in more than one way.

    ¡°Anything for you, sweetie.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-58

    ¡°You¡¯ve certainly made yourself comfortable.¡±

    We exit the portrait room to a sarcastic voice. A young man, maybe a few years older than me, with heavy stubble and short dark hair stands in the middle of the trophy room, a frown on his face. What I notice about him most is the dagger strapped to his waist. Who walks around the house armed? Suppose it¡¯s another quirk of the fort.

    ¡°Lou, meet Lucas Branwell, probationary knight of the Order of the Bleak Moon,¡± Alana says in a drab tone.

    A cruel smile curls the corners of his lips. ¡°What? No more Brother Lucas?¡±

    ¡°We used to train together. Back when I was young and naive, I thought the older trainees had useful information to pass on and gave them the respect I thought owed to my seniors. Lucas was the one to show me that anyone can be full of shit no matter how old they are or where they¡¯re from. A valuable lesson.¡±

    ¡°I see your time at the Hall hasn¡¯t taught you any manners.¡± His eyes move to me. ¡°And? Who¡¯s the stranger you¡¯re bringing to places you shouldn¡¯t be in?¡±

    ¡°You forget yourself,¡± Alana seethes. ¡°You may be a member of the Moons but I am a James. You don¡¯t get to tell me what I can and cannot do in my family¡¯s home.¡±

    Under the weight of her glare, the knight raises his palms. ¡°Forgive me, young lady James,¡± he says sarcastically. ¡°This insolent knight forgot his place. I merely wish to express my concern. You know how Lord Zachariah is about these things.¡±

    ¡°My brother has more important things to contemplate than my movements. I¡¯m sure you do too. Shouldn¡¯t you be training?¡±

    ¡°With the many strangers about the Fort, Lord Zachariah decided that the lord¡¯s daughters should have protection. I¡¯ve been asked to look after you.¡±

    Alana stiffens. To me, this sounds perfectly normal. Young ladies are escorted all the time. In Summer Spire, Maxine was escorted by her family¡¯s knights. At first glance, this appears like nothing more than brotherly concern.

    I have to remind myself that this is Victory. A place that values personal might above all else. I think of Alana¡¯s desire to prove herself and what being assigned a guard must mean, in light of that. Is her brother saying he doesn¡¯t trust her to protect herself? In Victory, isn¡¯t he calling her useless? So, if I¡¯m right, this is an incredible insult. May as well have slapped her across her face.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your protection,¡± Alana snarls. ¡°Leave.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t be stubborn, my lady.¡± Despite his use of the title and more polite speech, there is no respect in this man¡¯s tone. ¡°Your brother¡¯s concern for you is genuine. While allowing hunters and whoever else to help with the campaign has bolstered our numbers, those beyond our walls can¡¯t be trusted.¡± His eyes briefly flick to me. ¡°This isn¡¯t an insult to your abilities. Lady Yulianna has also received a guard.¡±

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    ¡°The true insult is the fact that you¡¯re still standing before me when I¡¯ve told you to leave.¡± I grin as Alana looks at him with pure disdain. To think she never threw around her title at the Hall. Well, she certainly isn¡¯t afraid to do so now. ¡°Are your ears decorations? Or do you have no respect for the James family?¡±

    ¡°I have nothing but respect for your family. As such, I cannot disobey an order from Lord Zachariah.¡±

    ¡°My brother may be the heir but he is not the duke. His orders have no superiority to my own. The fact that you continue to ignore me is your own bias.¡± She sneers. ¡°You¡¯re looking down on me, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    I think this is a good time for me to be me. ¡°Where I¡¯m from, if a servant doesn¡¯t want to listen to a lady of the house, they¡¯re thrown out on their ass,¡± I say lazily. ¡°You¡¯d think a knight from an order sponsored by the family would know to shut up and do what he¡¯s told.¡±

    I easily grab the knight¡¯s attention. ¡°And who are you?¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome, Alana¡¯s bannerwoman. It¡¯s your honor to meet me.¡±

    ¡°Bannerwoman!¡± He loses all pretense of respect as he straightens. For some reason, I imagine him as a cat, hair sticking up and tail standing straight. ¡°You chose a bannerwoman from beyond Victory? Did too much sun melt your mind!?¡±

    ¡°Alana, how does your family treat servants that don¡¯t know their place?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Her eyes are cold. ¡°They tend to disappear and never be heard from again.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Then you don¡¯t mind if I teach him some manners?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    The knight regains his senses. With the veil of civility ripped away, he sneers at me. ¡°For the sake of your lady, you should rethink your actions. I doubt it would look good if her bannerwoman is sent to the healers before the fighting¡¯s began.¡±

    I casually walk over to him, purposely moving at a glacial pace as I reach for his throat. Giving him plenty of time to try and stop me. He does try, a hand grabbing my wrist in a tight grip that I completely ignore. His eyes bulge with surprise as I ignore his attempt to pull my hand aside and grab him by the throat, lifting him until he¡¯s forced to stand on his toes.

    ¡°Now, I may be new to Victory but I do know a few things. Firstly, the James are the governing family of this land. Their word is law. As their servant, you don¡¯t make decisions. You don¡¯t think. If you are confused, you let your betters direct you. Run your ass to the duke himself, if you must. You certainly don¡¯t raise your voice to a lady of the house and speak to her as if you¡¯re her equal.¡± I squeeze his neck. ¡°You certainly don¡¯t think you¡¯re her equal¡­do you?¡±

    He gags and shakes his head. I hold on until the hand on my wrist turns to clawing fingers. Then I drop him. He stumbles but manages to stay on his feet, one hand hovering over his throat as he coughs. He looks up with red and watery eyes.

    To his credit, there is no fear in his gaze. Only the calm evaluation of a threat.

    ¡°You can tell her older brother who is so worried about her safety that she has me to look after her. Seeing the gap between our abilities, I don¡¯t think he will have any complaints.¡±

    ¡°¡­of course.¡± Lucas straightens and smacks a fist to his chest. ¡°It is heartening to see the bannerwoman of the young lady is so capable. Then, if I have your leave, I will return to report this to Lord Zachariah.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s been wasting time lingering,¡± Alana says dismissively.

    ¡°Thank you, my lady.¡±

    He turns and swiftly marches from the room, as quickly as decorum allows. I scoff as he disappears. ¡°What was that supposed to be?¡±

    ¡°The first exchange of a long battle. Victory may be united in the war effort but that doesn¡¯t mean there are no internal struggles. And, unlike the rest of Harvest, it¡¯s not so rare for women to be in charge.¡± Her eyes practically gleam with the light of ambition. ¡°If I prove myself, I inherit. Lucas was my brother gauging my attitude, I think. Seeing if I am still as¡­meek as the girl who left.¡±

    ¡°So what does us sending his pet knight scurrying off with his tail between his legs say to the great Lord Zachariah?¡± I could hear the genuflection in Lucas¡¯ tone when he spoke of the favored heir.

    ¡°It says he better be prepared for a fight.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-59

    Thankfully, no one else ambushes us as Alana guides me to her room. With her treatment so far, I half-expected her to show me to a closet next to the servant quarters. It seems that would be too much as she has a proper room. Nothing as grand as the manor given to my wife but it¡¯s nice, if a bit cluttered. I would say it¡¯s a bit small but that could simply be because of the general lack of space. If this were any other duke, the whole of Fort Victory would be their estate, filled with statues, gardens, and other testaments of their wealth. The James manor takes up only a corner of the fort, which makes space a limited commodity.

    A decent sized bed with dark blue coverings is pushed into one corner of the room, tucked away as to give the appearance of more space. At its foot is a wooden dresser with a small mirror atop it, a thin rectangular slit above letting in a decent amount of light. Beside it is the same banner that hung in the training building, a full moon held in the jaws of a shadowy beast.

    The rest of the space seems to be a training area. A wooden dummy stands in the center of the room. Around it, the floors are scuffed, evidence of the effort Alana has put in over the years. Two wooden swords are leaned against the side wall, a real blade mounted on the wall above them.

    ¡°This is¡­¡± Alana clears her throat. Huh. Is she embarrassed? ¡°This is my room.¡± A hand idly scratches the back of her neck. ¡°It isn¡¯t much. My father doesn¡¯t believe in frivolous things like decorations and I was too preoccupied with training to think about it. It wasn¡¯t like I had many visitors.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with it.¡± I take a seat on the bed. Harder than I¡¯m used to but not uncomfortable. I flop down and pat the spot beside me.

    She obliges, kicking off her shoes and lying on the bed. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, she moves closer, tucking herself against my side and laying her head on my chest. I grin and pretend I don¡¯t hear the deep sniff she takes of me. It isn¡¯t that strange. I smell good, even after several days on the road. ¡°The room you¡¯re supposed to be in is just down the hall,¡± she mumbles.

    ¡°Mm.¡± I turn toward her, putting my chin on her hair. ¡°So, when you said you want me to embarrass them, how far do you want me to go?¡± Am I rattling the James house or bringing it all crashing down? ¡°And if there¡¯s any boundaries I should be wary of, now¡¯s the time to tell me.¡±

    She hums in thought. ¡°My father¡­I still hold a grudge but one day, I¡¯m going to settle it with my own hands. As long as I¡¯m good for the family, he won¡¯t get in the way. If I show I¡¯m a contender for inheritance, he may even support me. Truly, not just on the face of it.¡±

    So, don¡¯t lay a hand on the duke.

    ¡°Khan isn¡¯t interested in inheriting. Really, he isn¡¯t interested in anything but his maps. I actually like him, though we¡¯ve barely shared two words. His mother is the same. All she cares about is fighting and¡­making more children.¡±

    My wife really doesn¡¯t need to meet this woman. Either they¡¯ll fight to the death or get into all kinds of trouble.

    ¡°Yulianna¡­¡± I rub her back to calm her mounting anger. It works, her tense shoulders quickly relaxing. ¡°I dislike her but, ugh.¡± She sighs. ¡°She doesn¡¯t deserve¡­you.¡± Oi. ¡°It¡¯d be like kicking an annoying puppy.¡±

    Gentle rebukes for the beauty. That¡¯s good. I don¡¯t know if I could be truly cruel to someone who looks like that, especially if she really is another saint.

    ¡°The only real problem is Zach and his mother, Eleanor. She¡¯s the daughter of Jorun the Behemoth. Famous knight of the Bleak Moons. Traditionalist to the core. Thinks Victory should be closed off to outsiders and more resources should be funneled into the campaigns. Worse, she¡¯s part of the group that thinks that Victory isn¡¯t beholden to the king. They don¡¯t shout it from the top of the walls but they believe that once the Peaks are conquered, Victory will form another kingdom with the James family as the new royals.¡±

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    ¡°And she wants that royalty to be her descendants, I¡¯m guessing.¡±

    I feel her nod. ¡°She used to cater to Eren but once he died, she shifted her focus to Zach and is determined to see him inherit. She spearheaded the rumors about Khan and is the reason I¡­well, she didn¡¯t make life here easy.¡±

    I see. One target identified. No mercy for the mother.

    ¡°Zach isn¡¯t as bad as his mother. He¡¯s an arrogant bastard but he has Victory¡¯s best interests at heart. I always thought he¡¯d make a great duke.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯d make a better duchess.¡±

    An arm wraps around my waist. ¡°That¡¯s¡­I¡¯m not sure if I want that title. But I will make everyone beg me to take it. If Zach does become the next duke of Victory, I want everyone to know if was only because I allowedit.¡±

    Hm. This isn¡¯t about putting my boot on her family¡¯s neck. That what she wants for herself. This is about peacocking in front of them. I¡¯m sure beating people will be a part of it, this is Victory after all, but that¡¯s not the goal. I need less violence and more¡­magnificence. With a direction chosen, many ideas come to mind. Yes, this can work.

    And first off¡­

    ¡°Zach is a musclehead but unfortunately, so is all of Victory. I won¡¯t be getting anything into his thick skull unless I beat it in. It¡¯s only a matter of time but it won¡¯t be easy to surpass him. He¡¯s¡ª"

    A yelp of surprise interrupts her words as I push her on her back and roll on top of her. Her wide eyes quickly narrow. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Helping you relax,¡± I whisper, channeling Kierra¡¯s sexy purr.

    ¡°I guarantee there are at least half a dozen servants actively spying on everyone in the house for at least one of my siblings. Double for Eleanor. All of them for my father. The door isn¡¯t even closed!¡±

    I look over my shoulder at the open door before turning back to her. What was it Kierra once told me? Oh, yes. ¡°It isn¡¯t my first time working in front of an audience.¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡± she hisses.

    ¡°It¡¯s all a part of the plan.¡± I lean down and whisper into a red ear. ¡°Just imagine how it¡¯ll look. Everyone is tense and worried about this campaign while you¡¯re indulging in me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll look sloppy and stupid,¡± she grumbles, doing a poor job of hiding her interest.

    ¡°It¡¯ll make you look confident,¡± I return. ¡°Besides, I know you want to.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you have enough on the way here?¡±

    Both of my brows go up. ¡°Did you?¡±

    She doesn¡¯t answer but one of her hands touches my lower back. Grinning, I follow the weak pull of her arm, bringing our lips together.

    [My summoner, forgive the interruption, but you and Alana should come to the stables. A few knights are attempting to cause trouble.]

    I really don¡¯t want to move. From the way she¡¯s softening under me, I doubt Alana does either. Hm. Geneva, ask Kierra to handle it. If she doesn¡¯t want to, I leave it to you. Dazzle and intimidate but don¡¯t hurt anyone unless you are defending yourself, Cloud, or my things.

    [Of course~]

    Alana wants the people of Victory to feel small. A succubus is certainly the creature for the job. They poor knights better hope Kierra feels like taking a walk or they are going to have a very bad day.

    A familiar laugh comes from the doorway. I look over my shoulder to see my favorite elf leaning in the doorway, watching us with clear amusement. ¡°Sending me to handle the annoyances so you can play?¡±

    ¡°Can you blame me?¡±

    ¡°Hm. Yes.¡±

    My eyes widen as she steps into the room, closing the door behind her. She stalks forward, stripping her clothes as she goes. ¡°You are so confident lately, my little conqueror. Shall we put it to the test? I do believe it is my turn.¡±

    Oh, no. ¡°Hold on, Kii! We¡¯re in hostile territory. You shouldn¡¯t be using too much power.¡±

    She puts a knee on the bed. ¡°You are right, dedia. Which is why you will not struggle, hm? Be a good girl for me.¡±

    I swallow thickly as she reaches for me. Ah, saints damn it. It is her turn.

    She puts a hand on my chin and I obediently let her turn my head so I¡¯m facing Alana and her wide, excited eyes. She really does like watching, huh. Well, she¡¯s about to get quite the show. My wife has less concerns about being watched than I do. There is no hesitation in the strong hands that position me over Alana, spreading my legs and tracing my lower lips.

    ¡°Or should we let the star have a turn?¡±

    Eh?

    In a blink, my position is swapped with Alana. She¡¯s equally stunned, squeaking in surprise as Kierra cups her breasts and pulls her close. ¡°How about it? Do you want to feel the pleasure of breeding a woman? Our Lou is quite special in that regard as well.¡± In her typical fashion, the savage elf runs her tongue over Alana throat, laying a gentle kiss on a rapidly pounding vein. ¡°I can help you.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I¡­¡±

    Alana looks down at me. I can easily read her need for reassurance. This is kind of going out of order but I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t excited. ¡°Go on, Lady James. This is your bed. Do what you want.¡±

    She lets out an explosive breath. Her lips tremble as she struggles to say the words. In the end, she simply nods.

 ARC 6-Winter War-60

    As a child, I thought people were simple. I took what people showed me at face value. Gordon, my childhood bully, was a chubby, red-headed bundle of evil. My father a cold and distant man lest baited with the allure of summoning. The servants and peasants simple creatures that couldn¡¯t break free from their routines.

    After growing up, a combination of my tutors and sneaking into the local tavern taught me how complicated people can be. How they show different faces to different people in different situations. For nobles, the many aspects of socializing are tools to pry away those masks and reveal the vulnerable self most people protect with confidence and indifference.

    One of the many things I love about Alana, a delightful surprise I¡¯ve only truly had the chance to appreciate after her confession, is how readily she reveals that vulnerable side to me. Earlier, facing down the disrespectful and demeaning Lucas, she was cold as winter, an impenetrable fortress. In our normal interactions, she¡¯s less stern but still hard as stone. It takes a discerning eye or knowledge of her character to know the soft center.

    However, when the doors are closed and the clothes come off, she drops her masks. Her vulnerable self and fragile desires are bared to me, the person she trusts to handle them with care.

    Held in Kierra¡¯s arms, her eyes are fixed on me, her usual hard stare softening with a silent plea. They flick to the wall, no doubt wondering which member of her house is listening in on this moment and questioning if she can continue despite that, but without fail, they always come back to me. A helpless attraction.

    She moans as a green hand, covered in the glow of physical mana, slides down her stomach and pushes between her thighs. Without prompting, she spreads them further, head lolling forward as Kierra¡¯s fingers move.

    ¡°You should know your allure,¡± the elf whispers as the glow of her magic moves from her hand to Alana¡¯s waist. ¡°Not just to our Lou but to all who will be drawn to your light. Perhaps after tasting a new pleasure, you will be more open to changing, hm?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk. You look¡ªhaaahhh!¡±

    A breathy moan interrupts her words. My wife, so considerate to make what could be a strange experience pleasurable. Or perhaps doing a little more to sway the saint into ¡®improving¡¯ herself as I did. I open my eyes once her moans turn to panting breaths, taking in the view.

    A common rule of magic is that it is much harder to create than to change. I don¡¯t doubt my elf, with her nonsensical pure affinity, could create a new organ, in perfect working order, with no problem. However, doing so while buffing Alana with enough strength and endurance to use it might drain a little too much mana. Despite her decision to indulge, she is aware that we are in hostile territory and is preserving her strength.

    From the reddish-pink color of Alana¡¯s new rod, I imagine she decided to change the pleasure button above her lower lips, giving it the length and girth needed to do the job. Though she might not have done the future saint any favors. My gift is similar and it¡¯s much more sensitive than a man¡¯s tool. The poor future saint is already drooling, her gaze distant and hazy. That girlcock combined with my body and the effects of my bodily fluids¡­mm. Hope we don¡¯t break her.

    It¡¯s rather¡­modest. I hesitate to think the word small. Wouldn¡¯t want anyone to feel insulted. My gift isn¡¯t as large as the troll tool I used to employ to please my wife but it was modeled with that size in mind. Kierra obviously likes things big and that is reflected during her ¡®turns¡¯. Saints, even Bell, my lustful imp who likes impaling women on her rock, prefers a bigger size, though that¡¯s more for the thrill of dominating her partners rather than pleasure for either party, I think.

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    Compared to that¡­I can¡¯t help it. She¡¯s small. Not in a bad way. It¡¯s¡­cute. Fits her.

    ¡°How does it feel?¡± Kierra purrs.

    Alana squeals and bucks her hips as green fingers close over her new member. She fucks my elf¡¯s hand as she¡¯s jerked off, brows furrowed as low, whimpering noises fall from her lips.

    As the noises reach a crescendo, Kierra stops. Alana lets out a plaintive little whine after being denied satisfaction. The elf ignores her as she pushes the future saint on top of me. I wrap my arms around Alana¡¯s neck, pulling her into my kiss as I spread my legs. With my wife¡¯s hands guiding her, she easily pushes into me, groaning into my mouth.

    Mm. She doesn¡¯t have the size I¡¯m used to but I can feel her. I move my hips, squeezing around her. She lets out the most pathetic whine and comes undone, shivering as she buries her nose in the crook of my neck. Was that¡­wow, she really came from that? I wasn¡¯t sure as it wasn¡¯t accompanied by the usual result. Guess Kierra skipped on a few functions.

    ¡°Surely you have more stamina than that.¡± The devious elf slaps Alana¡¯s ass with a mana-covered hand. The blonde squeaks as she perks up in more than one way. I sigh in pleasure. ¡°Go on. She is waiting.¡±

    Alana looks at me with wide, desire-filled eyes. ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetie,¡± I encourage and I practically see her melt. She really is weak to reassurance, huh. ¡°I¡¯m all yours.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t, um¡ª"

    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± I pull her down, dropping a playful kiss on her nose. ¡°Do what you want.¡±

    She hesitantly pulls out before just as slowly pushing back in. I continue to whisper reassurances to her and she picks up the pace. There¡¯s no technique, no variance, just the clumsy, desperate jackhammering of a woman who¡¯s lost her mind to a new world of pleasure. I can¡¯t hold back the urge to laugh watching her hump her hips as fast as she can, tongue hanging from her mouth like a thirsty dog and eyes fluttering.

    ¡°Lou! LOU! Oh saints, I¡­hah, hahhh¡­¡±

    Her hands grab my shoulders with the tightest grip she can muster, which is barely a pinch. I pull her head down so she doesn¡¯t see my smile as she groans my name.

    She¡¯s¡­Kierra made it so I don¡¯t have to worry about hurting her and it feels good but¡­I¡¯m nowhere near close. Far too used to my barbarian of a wife fucking me till she breaks the bed. I think I¡¯ve found the first flaw to this form. Alana, on the other hand, is a drooling, moaning mess.

    ¡°Lou¡­¡±

    ¡°Mm?¡±

    ¡°Lou¡­you¡¯re so tight¡­and warm¡­¡±

    I meet Kierra¡¯s gaze over her shoulder. She is wearing a full smile, equally amused. I snicker softly as I wrap my legs around Alana¡¯s waist. I wonder if it¡¯s mean that we¡¯re enjoying this for entirely different reasons than the rutting blond. I may not be getting off but my chest is full of warmth and affection. ¡°Just for you, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°Feels¡­so good¡­¡±

    ¡°It feels good for me too. I love having you inside me. I want it all the time.¡± I may be exaggerating a little but she¡¯s so adorable, I can¡¯t help it. Besides, I know the power of dirty words. ¡°Don¡¯t stop, honey. My sweet girl. You¡¯re going to give it to me good, aren¡¯t you? Fuck me till I can¡¯t walk?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes!¡± The green glow of Kierra¡¯s magic intensifies. I grunt as her thrusting hips gain more power. Another look to my elf shows her smile is showing more teeth. Evil woman.

    The next time she climaxes, Alana throws her head back and screams, clearly no longer caring about being overheard. Her limbs shaking as she comes down from the high, I flip her onto her back. Suppose if I want anything out of this, in a more physical sense, I¡¯m going to have to take matters into my own hands.

    Huh. Rarely get to be in this position. When I try with Kierra, she puts me on my stomach in no time. It¡¯s¡­interesting, feeling her inside me while she gazes up at me with lust and adoration.

    Suppose I should do my part to demonstrate the benefits of a generous application of the physical affinity, heh.

 ARC 6-Winter War-61-Interlude (Geneva)

    As effective immortals, succubi planned in the long-term. Geneva had the luxury to make careful, calculated moves for centuries if that¡¯s what it took to achieve her goals. The patience as well. Piling stone after stone until she had built an insurmountable mountain.

    However, she also knew there were times when being careful could mean missing an opportunity and that the progress that could be achieved from a metaphorical kick in the rear end was not to be underestimated.

    Her summoner, Lourianne Tome, had the most potential of any creature Geneva had ever encountered. Unfortunately, she did not have similarly sized ambition. The girl, who had lived a life of emotional deprivation, was more than content to lounge in the arms and overflowing affection of her lovers. At this rate, it would take years before Lou had the capacity to want something besides beautiful women fawning over her.

    Oh, she was invested in other things. Summoning and personal growth most of all. Yet those things took a very distant second and third seat to her romantic pursuits. That was clear from her summoner¡¯s relaxed approach to her studies. Seven affinities. With proper training, she could turn the world inside out, yet Lou groaned and moaned over studying a few magical theories.

    Geneva couldn¡¯t force her to learn, not just because of the conditions of her contract. She was still in the middle of gaining Lou¡¯s trust. The summoner remained cautious but her suspicions waned as her confidence grew. The silly girl seemed to think that she had cowled the succubi. Geneva was forced to be a little more careful but she was far from beaten.

    However, this trip to the north provided an opportunity. If there was one thing that could motivate Lou, it was her ¡®wives¡¯. If Alana prompted her, her summoner would burn down the whole of Victory and rebuild it with solid gold for the blond to lord over.

    Lou was also weak to power. Currently, her aversion to responsibility and the pomp of ruling kept her from making a ploy for political power. She also believed that might was all she needed to make her way in the world.

    Not a wholly untrue belief but there were certain things that needed social influence to accomplish. Certain things Geneva needed social influence for. Her leeway to move in the capital was good start but her restrictions meant it would take two generations before she had unquestioned control of the kingdom. With Lou¡¯s cooperation, she could have Harvest eating out of her dainty hands in five years, even using less bloody means her summoner preferred. Maybe less.

    She had a strong feeling that once Lou had a taste of ruling, in her own way, she¡¯d be hooked. Or, if not, she would feel too responsible to her little kingdom to leave them to their own devices and would shuck the unwanted trouble to her elementals, as she usually did. To Geneva.

    Victory presented a prime opportunity. It was full of strong individuals, relative to the rest of the kingdom, already susceptible to mental influences and accustomed to venerating others. Rather than shape their loyalty, all that was needed was transferring the generational loyalty to the James to her summoner. Even better, there was already a very easy way to do so.

    The orders of Victory believed in the James family because they trusted them to lead the war against the north. By that same measure, whoever led the war had their devotion. Lou wanted to make a mark but she needed to go all the way. If Geneva could convince her to wage the war in earnest, and win, Lou would have Victory. Better, she¡¯d have the whole of the north, a kingdom in itself with a little work.

    Once they had the north, it would all be a matter of time before they had the rest of the kingdom. It didn¡¯t take her sources in the capital to know the royal family had longed feared the day Victory tired of their impossible war and turned their soldiers to the south. If they ever achieved their namesake, the crown would undoubtedly be frightened into trying to subdue them.

    It wouldn¡¯t take much to incite another war. The capital would be anxious for it. If it came to violence, they¡¯d want to strike before the north had time to recover. They¡¯d bare their fangs, thinking they could corner weakened prey, only to find a hungry predator waiting with its jaws open, ready to swallow the continent whole.

    But first, Victory. Alana¡¯s grudge against her family ran deep but ultimately, was harmless. She wanted their acknowledgment, not to grind their mangled corpses into the ground. The elf loved conquest but cared little for ruling. That eliminated exciting Lou through her women. That left only one avenue of rousing the summoner¡¯s interest, a challenge.

    Specifically, a copious amount of insults from the right party. Whether it was influence from the elf, the trauma of her childhood, or a natural facet of her personality unleashed by her sudden rise in power, Lourianne Tome could not tolerate insults.

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    Even her inability to tolerate insults against her wives was an extension of her vehement defense of her own ego. The noblewoman had yet to throw away the morals that kept her from beheading anyone who said a wrong word but she certainly held it against them.

    All it would take was for the residents of Victory to deliver an unparalleled insult to her summoner. Then, Lou would retaliate. This wasn¡¯t Quest, where the lord was a coward unused to conflict. The duke would have no choice but to move against Lou, to preserve his authority.

    Alana would be a calming influence but the elf would be the opposite. She didn¡¯t do half measures. If there was war, she would make sure the James were exterminated to the last child if she had her way. Between the two of them, Lou would thoroughly subjugate them, making way for a new ruler.

    ¡°Miss, you¡¯re not listening to me.¡± A little aways from her, an annoyed stable hand faced down a slightly smirking Cloud. ¡°We don¡¯t have room for those many beasts. You may as well try your luck in the village as they¡¯re not coming into my stalls.¡±

    ¡°The sky does not set aside the waters that will flow over the banks of the river.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°This is a stable. It is meant to house the brethren. Therefore, it will house them. Lest you wish to open your own home, you have no right to kick them from their shelter.¡±

    ¡°No right?! Miss, my family has been running the James stables for generations. Of course I have the right and I¡¯m telling you to get the hell out of my stables before I throw you out!¡±

    ¡°Then we will settle this with the rule of earth.¡±

    ¡°For the love of the sun, speak plain Common, you madwoman!¡±

    The tamer grinned. ¡°The first to kiss the earth leaves.¡±

    ¡°You little¡­¡±

    Oh, she did love how the simple minds of humanity accommodated her manipulative desires so readily. Opportunity abounded if only one was willing to seize it. The bare bones of a plan came together but for it to work, she needed someone other than a simple stable hand. Someone with authority. As for how best to bring them? Well, what did the weak do when scared out of their minds? The took shelter behind the backs of the strong.

    ¡°What is going on here?¡± she did, her tone eighty percent sharp reprimand and twenty-percent bloodlust. It carried the implied authority those of Victory were weak to. Before he registered her presence, the stable hand straightened reflexively, subconsciously recognizing a superior. His attention slackened to confusion when his eyes found her, brows furrowing.

    ¡°What the¡ª"

    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question,¡± Geneva snapped. ¡°I asked what¡¯s going on here? It looks like a servant of the James stable is harassing the driver hired by Lady Alana James and preventing us from completing our orders but that certainly couldn¡¯t be the case. It¡¯d be so disgraceful, I couldn¡¯t even laugh at it as a joke.¡±

    The stable hand flinched. ¡°Wait a minute. No one said anything about Lady James.¡±

    ¡°Do you not have eyes or ears? We didn¡¯t arrive in the dead of night on ethereal steeds that never touched the ground. Did you bother to ask? Or did you see an outsider and immediately assume we weren¡¯t worth your time?¡±

    The stable hand looked anxious. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t do much of anything, which is my problem. You can solve it by putting away the beasts. Quickly, boy. I have other things to see to.¡±

    Anxiousness turned to hesitance. ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°THEN FIND ME SOMEONE WHO CAN, IMBECILE!¡± she shouted, oozing bloodlust. Primitive instincts sent the young man scurrying into the building, the weak seeking the strong.

    Beside her, Cloud stretched, cracking her neck. ¡°I hope you do not mean to make me fight the keeper of this den and his pack alone, ash moon.¡±

    Geneva smiled. She rather liked the nickname given to her by the tamer. Ash for her skin and moon for her ever changing appearance but constant nature. The woman proved insightful and poetic. ¡°No need to worry. Lou wouldn¡¯t want you to come to harm and this requires a particular¡­touch.¡±

    The smile melted from her face, replaced by a deep scowl. A moment later, the door to the room was kicked in. A bigger, burlier, older version of the young stable hand stomped into the room, axe in hand. He grasped the handled with both hands, his eyes searching the room and landing on Cloud. ¡°You! You think you can¡ª"

    The rest of his words were cut off by the sharp clap of Geneva¡¯s tail slapping him across the face. He grunted in pain and stumbled to the side. Two drops of blood fell from his busted lip before he recovered enough from his shock to raise his head. His dark eyes were complicated as he looked at the sneering succubus.

    ¡°I told him to bring back someone with some sense, not a howling dog,¡± she snapped. ¡°I can see now that everyone in this place is useless. Cloud, get the animals situated. If there really isn¡¯t any room, kill the old and weak ones. I¡¯m sure the soldiers could do with the extra rations.¡±

    It was an empty threat. Cloud would sooner sleep outside in the cold and snow herself than mindlessly slaughter innocent animals but the two wide-eyed men didn¡¯t know that. And the tamer was wise enough to the games of men that she knew not to tell them. ¡°The new moon graces the sky tonight it seems.¡±

    With a shake of her head, Cloud left the room to see to her animals.

    ¡°As for you two bumbling fools, you can run up to the main house and fetch a few servants. Lady James has brought many supplies and they all need to be put away. Or perhaps you want to try using that ax? I warn you, if you dare, the least I¡¯ll take from you in turn are the hands you would raise against a servant of the James household.¡±

    The silence after her words was heavy with tension. Finally, the older man lowered his ax. Turning to the stable hand, he nodded and the young man ran off. Geneva grinned as the older man turned to her with eyes full of repressed anger.

    All according to plan.

 ARC 6-Winter War-62

    Surprisingly, the dress code for dinner at the James manor is rather strict. I admit, I expected sweaty men and women to plop down in the chairs fresh from training and drink their soups straight from their bowls. Alana¡¯s manners when she¡¯s enjoying a meal and doesn¡¯t have to be concerned about appearances are rather atrocious. More than once, I¡¯ve spied her eating with her hands.

    The reality is the opposite of my imagination. A servant gives us an hour¡¯s notice and two steaming buckets of water are brought in by servants for us to wash. Alana is directing me into my good threads. Even some of the jewelry pinched by my succubus during her rampage through Quest, including a gaudy necklace with a thick golden chain and an obnoxiously large sapphire. A bit much, as my appearance is more than enough to garner an ample amount of attention, but I¡¯m meant to be showing off.

    ¡°Remember,¡± Alana says while doing up the buttons of my vest. ¡°I want you to push their buttons, not rip them off. Subtle insults and backhanded compliments won¡¯t work. Everyone here, their first reaction is violence. Their second reaction is more violence. Their third reaction is a duel to the death. They aren¡¯t as bad as Kierra but given your position as my bannerwoman, they¡¯ll all be looking for any excuse to test you. Any excuse.¡±

    ¡°No directly insulting anyone, no problem,¡± I mutter as she runs her hands over the smooth material. She goes for a second pass, her fingers linger over my chest before pulling at the ends of it. My lips turn up in a smirk but I don¡¯t say anything. ¡°Anything else I need to know?¡±

    ¡°Leave my father alone, he¡¯s mine. Try not to look disgusted at the food, it¡¯s not going to be anywhere near what we usually eat.¡± I grimace. Already spoiled by that succubus. ¡°And, finally, if there is a fight¡ª"

    ¡°I thought you just told me not to fight.¡±

    She rolls her eyes. The unexpected and juvenile action is incredibly adorable. So much so that I kiss her out of reflex, pouting as she pushes me away before it gets really good. ¡°This is Victory. A fight is never out of the question. So, if it does happen, and this is very important. If it happens, do not kill a James. You can kill their spouses. Their bannermen. Saints, their pets. Anyone and everything but a James.¡±

    One rule. She doesn¡¯t need to elaborate. I can imagine a dozen reasons why it would be a bad idea and it¡¯s simple enough to comply with. ¡°No James. Understood.¡± I reach out and grab her chin with two fingers. ¡°Then, can I tell you my rule for tonight?¡±

    Her eyes are both hesitant and amused. ¡°I¡¯m a little afraid to ask.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t take anyone¡¯s shit. No one¡¯s. If you let loose, I¡¯ll hold back.¡± I duck my head to whisper against her lips. ¡°It feels good to let loose, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    I swear she flushes down to her fingertips, no doubt recalling our afternoon of fun. Seeing her surrendering to our whims, wholly under the sway of the pleasures being given, inflicted, uncaring for appearances or anything else, mm. Reminds me of my time in that tree that served as Kierra¡¯s home within her lonely prison. My deepest desires dragged to the forefront and thrown in my face, I left that tree a changed woman. That doesn¡¯t bode well for Alana. Or, maybe it does, heh.

    She shivers as my tongue darts out to lick her lower lip teasingly but I leave it there, having been pushed away once. We don¡¯t have time for indulgence. ¡°Wicked woman,¡± she mutters.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°There goes your terrible habit of hearing compliments when none were uttered.¡±

    I huff, dropping her chin and stepping away. ¡°If you want me to feel insulted, you should try saying that without devouring me with your eyes.¡± I hold out an arm for her. She ignores it and marches past me, her smile flattening into a stern mask. Grinning, I follow behind her.

    -

    The dinner table is as cold as the snow surrounding the estate. We enter the dining room before the hour is up but we¡¯re one of the last to arrive. Erenheart James, the Duke of Victory, is already seated at the head of the table, the thin robe like garment he wore during our first meeting replaced a thick, white shirt and dark pants. A heavy silver chain hangs around his neck, the medallion at the end showing off the family crest of a creature swallowing a full moon.

    Interestingly, the duke breaks familiar seating arrangements traditions by having someone at his side. A thin woman with light blond hair, green eyes, and a skittish demeanor. Despite being seated at the head of the table, a position of power, her head is bowed. The few times she does look up, her eyes are solely for the duke, shining with affection.

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    To the duke¡¯s right is a frowning middle-aged woman with severe features and dark hair pulled into a tight bun behind her head. Her spine is so straight that mine aches in sympathy, her hands folded in her lap.

    A shame, as she is beautiful in the same way a falcon or an eagle is beautiful. She¡¯s aged gracefully, the little gray in her hair and the deep wrinkles in her face giving her an air of maturity and wisdom. If she would relax a tiny fraction, she¡¯d be mesmerizing but as things are, it¡¯d take a strong will to brave meeting her narrowed eyes.

    Beside her is someone I do recognize. The favored heir himself, Zachariah James, looking just as displeased as the woman I assume is his mother. He is the first to acknowledge us, his eyes flicking to me then Alana before turning with a huff and a great shrug of his broad shoulders. I am both impressed and amazed that the giant warhammer he was painted with is by his side, having no trouble standing upright on its head. Things I can only see in Victory, I suppose.

    On the duke¡¯s other side is his second wife, the southern barbarian. She lives up to that title. While the others are dressed primly and seated with straight backs, she is barely dressed and slumped in her seat with a large wineskin in hand. The leather¡­thing holding up her breasts does nothing to subdue the swell of them and shows off her sharply defined abs, their definition almost enough to rival my lovely elf¡¯s. She¡¯s preoccupied with drinking from her skin as we come in and belches loudly when she finishes, showing her many years in the north has done little for her manners.

    Beside her is an empty chair. Where Khan is meant to sit but he¡¯s rarely home to claim his spot. However, it is always left free. A custom of his mother¡¯s people. They¡¯ve even put out a place setting for him.

    Our position is a little awkward. Alana has no mother to sit alongside. When she was younger, she had to choose between the two women, one who clearly despises her, the other that couldn¡¯t be bothered to shelter her. She originally tried cozying up to Eleanor, the daughter of a famous knight and a powerful woman in her own right. The stern woman had no time for a bastard child, one more body with a claim to the title.

    Realizing she wasn¡¯t wanted, Alana slipped to the other side of the table. At the time, she was forced to the end of the table by three sons. Even when two of them died and one refused to come home, she still saw that as her place, finding a physical way to represent the isolation she felt.

    Not this time.

    With me by her side, Alana drops into the chair beside Khan¡¯s empty seat. Directly across from Zachariah, whose eyes widen at her daring. I take my place beside her and Kierra sits beside me, nearly matching the duke¡¯s second wife in slovenliness. As I¡¯m here to impress them, Kierra is here to show them they mean so little they¡¯re not worth the effort of trying to impress.

    Once we¡¯ve taken our seats, the duke grabs his knife and slams the butt of it on the table three times. Once all eyes are on him, he speaks. ¡°A prayer to our brave ancestors, who fought for us to be here today. A prayer to our restless ancestors, who will turn in their graves until we fulfill our purpose. A prayer to our glorious ancestors, so that they will lend us our strength. For the glory of the James and Victory.¡±

    ¡°Victory or death,¡± the table answers in response.

    The duke hits the table again and servants began to lay out the food. It is ignored as the duke turns to us. ¡°Alana. Introduce your companions.¡±

    Another interesting quirk of dinner with the James. No one actually cares about dinner. Meals are more strategic gatherings where the members of the family coordinate their schedules and give reports on important events. The food is eaten in-between speaking. From Alana¡¯s words, it¡¯s closer to an advisory meeting than a family gathering.

    As shown by Alana ignoring the plate in front of her to stand. ¡°Family, let me introduce my bannerwoman, Lourianne Tome, a fellow acolyte of the Grand Hall and an accomplished summoner. Beside her is her wife, Kierra D¡¯Atainna, an elf from the Violet Dusk province, an exceptional healer, and a greater combatant.¡±

    ¡°Hah?¡± Kalise, the barbarian, finally looks at us. ¡°Ah, feck. Thought it was the drink but she¡¯s really fecking green. What¡¯s an elf doing here?¡±

    ¡°A good question.¡± Zachariah viciously bites off the end of a roll. ¡°I understand the hunters and the acolytes. Gold and glory motivate them on the surface, but underneath it is the solidarity of humans coming together to fight off the monsters threatening their peace and stability. What has that got to do with another race?¡±

    ¡°She is here on my behalf,¡± Alana says coolly. ¡°That is all that is necessary but I will cede my voice so she may speak on her own behalf.¡±

    Giving someone permission to talk may seem disgustingly arrogant but it¡¯s the way things are done here. We are Alana¡¯s people. Having brought us here and claimed us, she is responsible for all our actions, even the words we speak. Ceding her voice is her way of saying as much. Of course, there¡¯s nothing stopping us from talking on our own but that would imply she can¡¯t control us, which wouldn¡¯t look good at all.

    ¡°I permit Kierra D¡¯Atainna to speak at our table.¡± The duke adds to the arrogance. Kierra needs his permission as well. It may be Alana¡¯s ¡°voice¡± she¡¯s going to use but it is the duke¡¯s table. ¡°As a caster possessing a pure affinity and the slayer of a guildmaster, she is more than qualified to speak amongst the knights of Victory.¡±

    ¡­no one is surprised. No one. Not so much as a jump or a hiked brow. They already knew, didn¡¯t they? They knew about her and her affinity. The duke knew about me. Haha, this is strange. I¡¯m so used to people underestimating my house, it¡¯s hard to fathom someone taking us seriously. This family is definitely on another level.

    My wife lazily gets to her feet, eyes hooded and smile smug. Alana explained what she wanted and Kierra agreed to play our game. However, she refused to elaborate on how she would do so. The look on her face¡­that¡¯s the look she wore when she set the dogs loose on the initiates. Saints protect us all.

    The drama is about to begin.

 ARC 6-Winter War-63

    Kierra sweeps her gaze over the table, her smile stretching wider. ¡°I give thanks for inviting me to your table and your battle. I understand the sacredness of a blood feud and what it means to allow others to interfere. I will repay your trusts with a mountain of corpses.¡±

    ¡°Haha, that¡¯s the spirit!¡± Kalise shouts around a mouthful of food. ¡°If all elves are like you, I should have gone south.¡± She swallows a full cup of wine and a servant moves quickly to pour a refill.

    ¡°Depends. The provinces are full of fighters, if that¡¯s what you mean. As for how many measure up to me¡­more than you¡¯d think but far too few are committed to martial pursuits. I am afraid you would find my home uninteresting.¡±

    It takes effort not to gape at her. Kierra can be deceptive, even manipulative, but rarely does she outright lie like she just did. Far too few are committed to martial pursuits? Don¡¯t make me laugh! Dusk may be the most violent of the provinces but all elves worship strength. If her tale of the Great Spirit that supposedly elevated them is true, then the thirst for strength is practically woven into their very being.

    ¡°While having a master caster wielding a pure affinity amongst our forces is heartening, I have concerns, Father,¡± Zachariah continues. ¡°The hunters of Quest arrived four days ago.¡± What? With our speed, they must have left well before us. ¡°Killing a guildmaster may be a great accomplishment but it also brings many complications. They knew that Alana¡¯s bannerwoman and the elf would be coming to Victory. They¡¯ve made it clear that if these two are allowed to stay, none of them will participate in the campaign.¡±

    Beside him, his mother sets down her cutlery and wipes her already clean lips. She turns her sharp gaze to Kierra. ¡°You are unquestionably strong. A pure physical affinity can also be the difference between life and death. But, in the end, you are but one woman with a limited coefficient. The question is are you and¡­Alana¡¯s bannerwoman worth more one-hundred eighty-nine soldiers in a battle of endurance where numbers are crucial.¡±

    The implied you aren¡¯t doesn¡¯t need to be voiced. Several eyes, including the barbarian I thought too sloppy to devote any attention to this conversation, watch us intensely. The duke is a statue. I have no doubt that if we do not justify ourselves, we will be dismissed from Victory.

    If Kierra feels the pressure they are trying to inflict, she doesn¡¯t show it. ¡°Do I think that an experienced commander who has led soldiers to hunt manabeasts many times before and can kill one of your little master casters in minutes is worth more than nearly two-hundred children throwing a tantrum because they started a fight without thinking of the consequences?¡± She chuckles. ¡°Yes. That is speaking of me alone. My clan is worth far more.¡±

    ¡°Your clan?¡± Zachariah asks.

    She doesn¡¯t deign to answer. ¡°If you wish to test my abilities for yourself, I am eager for a duel. Though I will warn you that I only duel to the death. It is the way of my people.¡±

    That¡­that is a blatant lie. She is more than capable of beating someone within an inch of death and bringing them back to the peak of health a moment later. What is she planning?

    ¡°Control is also a strength,¡± Eleanor said.

    ¡°Yes, but there is no point in a duel to determine my abilities where I am forced to hold back.¡±

    ¡°Ah, what a pain!¡± the favored heir complains. ¡°You¡¯re doing this on purpose. Obviously, anyone who is capable enough to test your abilities is too valuable to die in a stupid duel. You¡¯re trying to slip out of this. Father¡ª"

    ¡°There exists another way,¡± Kierra says, smile widening. ¡°My people have come across similar situations, needing to test a warrior¡¯s strength but unwilling to allow the death of valuable fighters. We have a tradition, if you are willing to listen.¡±

    ¡°This is¡ª"

    ¡°Let her speak,¡± the duke commands and his son quickly shuts up.

    ¡°It is simple. I would compare my strength to any doubters in a duel of another kind. A test of physical prowess that brings pleasure rather than the pain of death.¡±

    I suddenly have a really bad feeling.

    ¡°Get to the point,¡± Zach grumbles.

    ¡°In the Dusk province, our warriors are praised for both their prowess in bed as well as the battlefield.¡±

    The room freezes, along with my heart. Didn¡¯t know this body was still capable of such a response but I suppose keeping Geneva out of my mind means I¡¯m vulnerable to subconscious responses. Especially when taken off guard like I just was. Anyone would be. Everyone is. Her wild lie, at least I think it¡¯s a lie, even managed to break the duke¡¯s calm facade, his brows furrowing as he turns to her.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°What in the freezing pits of the Peaks are you talking about?¡± Zach curses. ¡°What does fucking have to do with your value to a war effort?¡±

    ¡°If you cannot draw the obvious parallels, I feel sorry for your lovers.¡±

    Alana¡¯s shoulders stiffen as she smothers a laugh. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. The favored heir¡¯s parents are not amused but the barbarian laughs, spilling some of her wine.

    ¡°I can see it,¡± Kalise says, setting down her cup. ¡°A good lay needs strength, endurance, and technique, just like a fighter. Haha, that¡¯s fecking gold!¡±

    ¡°It also requires communication and trust, two things a commander needs,¡± Kierra continues. Her easy tone and placid features don¡¯t suit the ridiculous words coming out of her mouth. It takes immense effort not to gape at her.

    ¡°True, true. Zachy boy, get that stupid look off your face. She may be green but she¡¯s prettier than all those servant girls who wipe your sweat after training. If this was the south, whole tribes would be slaughtered as the warlords fought for a night with her and she¡¯s offering herself in a basket.¡±

    Some of the offense in Zach¡¯s face eases as he takes a second, long look at my wife. My control is strained but I manage not to react. It¡¯s fine. He won¡¯t lay a hand on her, I know that.

    ¡°The boy does not interest me.¡± And Zach¡¯s frown returns. ¡°I am married to a woman.¡± Her smile turns sly as her eyes move to Eleanor.

    ¡°Disgusting,¡± the stern woman spits. ¡°Enough of your games.¡±

    ¡°It is not polite to insult another culture¡¯s traditions. But I do not expect you to understand. I suppose you will simply have to trust my estimation of my ability.¡±

    ¡°Now hold on a moment.¡± The barbarian leans forward. ¡°This is interesting. Very, very interesting.¡±

    ¡°Kalise,¡± the duke says, far more calmly than I think most men would be in his shoes.

    ¡°Is that jealously, my husband?¡± she teases. ¡°I thought this place had finally frozen your heart but there is something left of the lion I married, it seems.¡± She drains her cup, wiping the few droplets that wet her chin. ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited, old cat. I take vows seriously. I¡¯m just too curious. Oi! Greenie! How does this duel work?¡±

    ¡°Simple. I take the wives of my doubters to bed. If I manage to make them scream my name louder than they have every screamed for their husbands, no one would dare question my abilities.¡±

    The barbarian¡¯s laugh echoes in a silent dining room. I can¡¯t¡­process this. A part of me wants to believe this is a dream because it cannot be reality. Kierra is not trying to cuck a duke. Or, saints, the whole fort? All the hunters? What¡­this is a joke, right? It has to be a joke.

    ¡°You, haha, crazy woman! Aren¡¯t you afraid the men would kill you for such an insult?¡±

    ¡°A leader also needs daring.¡±

    The duke bangs the end of his knife against the table and his wife softens her wild laughter to quiet snickers. ¡°We do not need those of weak commitment. It was my decision to allow more outsiders to bolster our numbers, but this is Victory¡¯s war. We do not negotiate. We do not acquiescence.¡±

    He sweeps his gaze over the table but no one dares question him. ¡°That said, your presence will disrupt discipline in the ranks if you are near the hunters. That interferes with the deployment plans. Alana, you will give a recommendation for your deployment tomorrow. Should your answer prove inadequate, your position will be chosen for you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Father.¡±

    ¡°Zach, you have been placed in charge of the hunters. Their conduct is your responsibility. Whatever decision you make, you will accept the consequences. Decide by tonight and give your sister your answer before noon.¡±

    ¡°Understood, Father.¡±

    A subtle touch to Kierra¡¯s leg prompts the elf to sit down and Alana stands again. ¡°I would like to discuss resource allocation and distribution. Specifically, of what I¡¯ve brought.¡±

    ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d bring up the dozen wagons you came here with. The servants barely found room for it all.¡± Zachariah eyes her speculatively. ¡°That better not all be garbage.¡±

    ¡°All of it is valuable. And it is all for me. I exempt myself from the counting.¡± She explained this one to me before we came to dinner. Normally, before a campaign, all the resources procured by the different orders are counted, catalogued, and distributed to where they¡¯re needed most. Victory¡¯s heir is chosen through merit. Sourcing resources is a common and easy way to accumulate said merit. For Alana to refuse to donate her supplies is both surprising and relatively unheard of.

    ¡°Accepted.¡± Yet the duke doesn¡¯t question her decision at all. I guess he is very serious about letting his children make their own choices. ¡°I remind you that personal supplies are your responsibility to transport.¡±

    ¡°Good luck finding beasts to pull that many wagons,¡± Zachariah snarks. ¡°I¡¯m not lending you any, dear sister.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need you to,¡± she snaps. ¡°That concludes my concerns.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Are we not going to hear from your bannerwoman? She is rather infamous amongst the hunters.¡± The favored heir turns his gaze to me. ¡°Nothing to say for yourself, Lady Tome?¡±

    ¡°My people aren¡¯t your concern. Save your breath speaking of relevant issues or our food will be cold before we finish.¡±

    Her brother smirks at the rebuke. Like a bear amused at the little kitten hissing at it. He really doesn¡¯t view her as competition for the title, does he? ¡°Suppose you have a point, dear sister,¡± he grumbles, getting to his feet. ¡°There¡¯s been a few disagreements with the orders. Especially Waking Beasts. Don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll let me disband those lunatics?¡±

    ¡°All who fight are worthy,¡± is his father¡¯s response.

    ¡°That¡¯s all they do.¡±

    ¡°Find a way to pacify them. A weapon¡¯s worth is determined by the hand that wields it.¡±

    The favored heir clicks his tongue but doesn¡¯t offer any argument. ¡°Suppose I should get the next fruitless request out of the way. Kalise, are you going to part with my brother¡¯s maps?¡±

    She waves her cup at him. ¡°Not on your life, young cat. My boy left them in my care. Don¡¯t know why you want them. The only ones I¡¯ve got are his surveys of the mountains. Nothing beyond them.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think eliminating the monster nests on the mountains before we begin the march would be useful?¡±

    ¡°Ha! If it was so easy, those mountains would have been conquered generations ago. It¡¯d be a waste of men. Better I keep the maps than a rash little cub gets himself killed trying to sink his claws in prey he can¡¯t handle.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-64

    ¡°That went well,¡± Alana says as we enter her bedroom.

    ¡°Did it?¡± I ask. I was expecting sparks to fly but after Kierra¡¯s rather outrageous intro, dinner became rather dull. I paid attention, as everything said was quite relevant to our impending war effort, but I¡¯d be lying if I said it wasn¡¯t a struggle. They didn¡¯t stray from topics of battle for one moment.

    I thought my family was cold but we had moments where we bonded. Usually while discussing summoning or cursing the Masons. There is no warmth in this house. None. It¡¯s rather stifling.

    Except for maybe Kalise. That barbarian has no tact and livened up the room every time she opened her mouth. When she was allowed to speak. The duke controlled her with nothing more than a few utterings of her name. His wives¡­like the dinner table, I felt little warmth there. Not even for the shy woman who sat beside the duke, Aliza James, the wife he married for pleasure. Obligation and duty waft from the man so strongly, I swear I can smell it.

    ¡°It went very well.¡± Alana beams as kicks off the soft shoes the family wears indoors and drops onto her bed. ¡°Father called on me to speak first. He acknowledged that my accomplishments were superior to Zach¡¯s.¡± She laughs evilly. ¡°I bet he wasn¡¯t happy. Probably why he brought up the hunters, to try and lessen my contribution. Should have known better.¡±

    ¡°So, we weren¡¯t in danger of being thrown out of the fort?¡± I ask, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as I follow her in kicking off my footwear.

    ¡°Of course not. You heard my father. This is Victory¡¯s war. Outsiders are invited. They don¡¯t get to make the rules. They don¡¯t get to make demands, not unless they have a mountain¡¯s worth to contribute. Zach only embarrassed himself by whining. Maybe even diminished his standing by appearing to be pressured by them.¡±

    I missed all those undercurrents. Zach¡¯s bad intentions were obvious but the rest of it was impossible to discern under their stern masks. But I guess this means we¡¯ve made a good start?

    The door opens and Kierra steps in, humming to herself. ¡°Where¡¯d you wander off to?¡± I ask. She slipped off after dinner without a word.

    ¡°A discussion with the sell-sword from the south,¡± she mutters coming toward me. She pushes between my legs and lays her hands on my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. ¡°I have secured an invitation to Kalise¡¯s room to share a bottle of Herbanacle, though it comes with the warning that should it not reach her expectations, I will be leaving through the window.¡±

    My stomach clenches as she chuckles. ¡°Kii, my love, you wouldn¡¯t be seriously trying to sleep with the duke¡¯s wife, would you?¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t,¡± Alana adds, sitting up on her elbows.

    ¡°Two rejections. A shame for her.¡± One of her hands plays with the ends of my hair. ¡°I will keep my hands to myself, hm? We will drink and exchange war stories. Perhaps brag about our families. And if she is so drunk and happy that she brags about her clever son who makes very interesting maps, with visual aids, then that will simply be the natural course of things.¡±

    I grin at her. ¡°That¡¯s my devious wife.¡± She accepts my soft kiss with another little hum.

    ¡°Why do you want them?¡± Alana asks. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t think it¡¯d be a great idea to get a peek at them if you can, but if they only show the mountains, they¡¯re useless for the campaign.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Kierra places her chin on my head as she looks at Alana. ¡°While I am confident, this frozen land has gone unconquered for centuries. There must be a reason why. There is confidence and there is arrogance. Should the land beyond the mountains prove too treacherous, a second hunting ground would be valuable.¡±

    Our goal isn¡¯t to necessarily conquer the north. It¡¯s to acquire acclaim. While making significant contributions to the campaign may be the best way of doing so, eliminating dangerous monsters is a good second.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°And should the threat be grossly exaggerated, a second hunt will ease my disappointment.¡±

    ¡°What was that about not being arrogant?¡± I tease, poking her in the stomach. The feeling of her tight muscles clenching reflexively draws my fingers back and I enjoy the simple pleasure of caressing her smooth skin.

    ¡°Easy, dedia. You will make it difficult to control myself.¡±

    I reluctantly drop my hand as she steps out of my reach, moving around the bed. Her hands reach for Alana, who turns her head bashfully as the elf kisses her cheek. ¡°No need to wait for me. Remember the walls are thin.¡±

    The flustered future saint pushes her away and the elf practically skips from the room. I climb further onto the bed and pull Alana down to lay with me. ¡°The two of you are getting along well.¡±

    Her eyes flick over my face, likely trying to determine if I¡¯m upset. I reassure her with a smile that she returns. ¡°It¡¯s rather difficult not to. At first I thought, well¡­watching you two together¡­¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s very different with you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s a little difficult to remain indifferent when someone¡­like her shows interest.¡±

    ¡°You can just say that strong and

    beautiful women are your weakness.¡±

    ¡°Or you could not say that,¡± she grumbles.

    I chuckle and pull her closer. Contrary to the first night we shared a bed together, she immediately settles in, pushing her face into my chest. I swear, this girl becomes more and more perverted every day. I love it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too comfortable,¡± I grumble. ¡°We haven¡¯t taken a bath or changed.¡±

    ¡°S¡¯fine,¡± she mutters. ¡°You never smell bad anyway.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you uncomfortable in that?¡±

    In answer, she strips to her unmentionables, throwing her clothes away haphazardly. ¡°There,¡± she grumbles, wrapping her arms around me. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day. Go to sleep, Lou.¡±

    It''s hard to argue with her clinging to me and looking so comfortable. With a shrug, I kick off my pants and settle in.

    -

    My eyes snap open as the door creaks open, the sound as loud as a screeching rooster to my sensitive ears. While awake, I block out most unimportant noises, but when I¡¯m asleep and vulnerable, I become more alert. A side-effect from Kierra¡¯s training. I¡¯m a light sleeper after too many nights of fingers in my nose that escalated to knives stabbed into my pillow where my head used to be. Very annoying and slightly terrifying events but my ¡®rewards¡¯ that followed made my heart race for very different reasons.

    I initially expect the visitor is Kierra but my next breath brings an unfamiliar scent and the footsteps are wrong. They are light but still audible. Like someone doing a poor job of sneaking. If Kierra wanted to go unnoticed, I wouldn¡¯t hear a thing. It all leads to one thing.

    A very brave intruder is sneaking into Alana¡¯s room.

    A film comes down, revealing the form of the likely assassin¡­and I immediately revise my assumption of the intruder¡¯s purpose. There is no way this is a killer. Putting aside the infeasibility of a hired killer sneaking into the home of Duke James, this woman doesn¡¯t seem like she could harm a fly.

    I immediately recognize the dark hair and bright blue eyes, as pretty faces stick in my memory far better than the names of annoying aspiring heroes. The young woman¡¯s full pink lips are turned up in a mischievous smile as she does her best to creep across the room, her eyes full of laughter. Saints, please let there be some hope of reconciliation between these sisters. Because there is no way I can hate someone this cute.

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of unseemly to sneak into someone¡¯s room at this time of night, Lady James.¡±

    She jumps, a hand shooting up to smother her startled yelp. Alana stirs but doesn¡¯t wake.

    ¡°My apologies,¡± she whispers. Her eyes are wide as she stares at me, likely due to the effect of my film. The one that gives me nightvision makes my own eyes luminous. It must make quite a sight, seeing two glowing violet orbs in a sea of darkness. ¡°I didn¡¯t, uh, expect, um¡­¡± She smothers a few giggles. ¡°Pardon. This is¡­unexpected.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Really, really hope these two can get along. ¡°Maybe you should light a candle? No point trying to sneak since you¡¯ve already been discovered.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes! No!¡± She clears her throat. ¡°Are you sure? I could come back in the morning. Walking in on¡­I didn¡¯t mean to intrude¡­are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Yulianna, I¡¯m quite sure.¡± Having a hard time staying polite with her. ¡°Do you mind if I call you that?¡±

    ¡°Not at all, ah¡­¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome but introductions would be much easier if we could see each other.¡±

    ¡°Right, yes. A candle.¡±

    Seeing her turn her head in confusion, I sigh and slip from the bed. Moving from Alana¡¯s arms draws out a few murmurs of discontent from the slumbering future knight on the edge of waking, drawing a few more giggles from her sister. I move over to the dresser beside the bed where two candles sit, lighting them with a quick spell as I remove my film. A soft glow envelops the room as I turn to the sneaky sister. She smiles as our eyes meet.

    ¡°You seem to know me already but allow me to introduce myself.¡± One hand is placed on her heart as she gracefully drops into a curtesy. ¡°I am Yulianna Eleanor James, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Victory.¡± She raises her head and flashes a charming smile. ¡°Something tells me it will be a true pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Tome.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-65

    Saints, I understand now why this woman has a title as outrageous as the rose blooming in frost or some such. She¡¯s even cuter bathed in candlelight. Someone could get lost in those eyes of hers, happily. They¡¯re far less intense than those of the man who sired her. Even less than my future saint, who is a chip off the old block.

    Everything about her just seems soft and comfortable. Like¡­a small animal. A puppy. No, softer. A bunny?

    I don¡¯t have much time to admire her. Discovered, Yulianna doesn¡¯t bother whispering anymore and Alana stirs more vigorously. Her eyes slowly open, squinting in confusion at the light. She sits up, rubbing at an eye. ¡°Lou?¡± she mumbles sleepily. ¡°Why are you up? Something wrong?¡±

    ¡°We have a visitor.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Allie.¡±

    Alana¡¯s head snaps up, her cooler blue eyes pinning her sister in place. Yulianna smiles sheepishly and shuffles in place. Her charm has no effect on my future saint, who frowns deeply. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°I heard you were back and was really excited to see you. Thought I could surprise you like old times.¡± Her grin turns sly. ¡°But I got caught.¡±

    Alana sighs. ¡°If I didn¡¯t like it back then, why would I appreciate you sneaking into my room in the middle of the night now?¡±

    The elder sister¡¯s smile weakens. ¡°I¡ª"

    ¡°I would have thought you¡¯d grown out of this, being married and a mother. Not everyone is so enamored by you that they¡¯ll forgive your stupid antics. You can talk to me in the morning, when I¡¯m not trying to sleep.¡±

    Alana, stop. What are you doing? You¡¯re making the bunny sad. Look at those eyes. ¡°Sorry, Allie. We can¡­we can talk later.¡± Saints, this is as bad as kicking a puppy.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Alana drops her head. ¡°Goodbye, Yulianna. Lou, blow out those candles and come back to bed.¡±

    Once again, I lock eyes with the sneaky sister. Her soft and slightly pained smile says everything she can¡¯t. It can¡¯t be helped. I would have liked to stay longer but I don¡¯t want to make things more awkward. See you again.

    The bunny turns tail and dejectedly hops from the room, closing the door softly behind her. Shaking my head, I blow out the recently lit candles and climb back into bed, resuming my previous cuddle with my tense lover. Under the hands that massage her shoulders, she slowly relaxes. ¡°So, that was your sister.¡±

    The body that had started to relax tenses again. What is the problem between the two of them that it affects her this much? Honestly, I¡¯m having a hard time imagining that sweet woman doing anything nefarious.

    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s something, isn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°It certainly takes a personality to sneak into anyone¡¯s room in the middle of the night, even a sister¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Yulianna was never one to let something like boundaries stand in her way.¡±

    Her voice is becoming increasingly more strained. This conversation isn¡¯t going to lead anywhere good so I decide to terminate it. Wrapping her in my arms, I kiss her forehead. ¡°Goodnight, sweetie.¡±

    She relaxes again and snuggles into me. ¡°Mm.¡±

    -

    Breakfast is just as strange as dinner. And just as impersonal. I expected another strategic meeting. Instead, I get a table of food with no one to serve it and no one seated at it. Alana explains that with the differences in training schedules, there was no point in the family attempting to sit down for a morning meal. The food was prepared and left for people to take at their leisure.

    While we are fixing our plates, Yulianna enters the room. She brightens when she sees us but Alana darkens.

    ¡°Allie!¡±

    ¡°Yulianna.¡±

    ¡°Can we¡ª"

    ¡°I have work to do,¡± Alana says quickly and decisively. ¡°Lou?¡±

    ¡°Gonna check in with Cloud. After I find that elf. Maybe you can give me a tour of the fort. Show me the sights.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°There isn¡¯t much to see beyond snow and ice.¡± Purposely avoiding looking at her sister, Alana stomps from the dining room.

    Once her footsteps become soft, Yulianna sighs. I hand her a plate and that brightens her expression a little. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± Really, I just handed you a plate. There¡¯s no need to look at me like I¡¯m your hero. No wonder people adore her if she looks at everyone like that. ¡°Alana really hates you.¡±

    She winces. ¡°Mm. We don¡¯t get along as much as I¡¯d like.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    She shakes her head sadly. ¡°I wish someone could tell me¡­is what I want to say but I¡¯m not blind. Do you mind a little walk? I don¡¯t like eating in this room.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to¡­¡±

    ¡°Not hungry.¡± I am spoiled by my succubus and would rather wait for her to fix a meal than choke down this, if I¡¯m being honest, garbage. Because of their weird habits, none of the food is hot and is easily eaten on the move, like bread, strips of dried meat, and a tiny amount of fruit. Travel rations. I didn¡¯t eat that even when I was traveling. ¡°Lead the way.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    I follow her through the house, back to the hallway that leads to the training building. At the base of one of the windows a small table and chair have been set up. A single white flower in a thin glass vase sits in the center of the white cloth covering it.

    A much better place to eat breakfast. If all of this was set up without instruction, then the servants must know Yulianna well. And adore her. I can¡¯t imagine the servants at my home doing something so thoughtful for me.

    Ah. Maybe Earl would. Anna would probably help. Gajin would select a whole bouquet, let alone a single bloom. Nomad¡­well, he wouldn¡¯t do much more than slump in a corner of the room while they worked unless given a specific task but he¡¯d be there.

    Thinking of my servants makes me smile and the tiniest twinge of longing pinches my heart. To think they all used to be hopeless bandits. Those fools better be taking care of the house.

    ¡°Oh! I¡¯ll call someone to bring another chair.¡±

    ¡°No need. I¡¯m fine standing.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure¡­¡±

    ¡°Eat before your food gets cold. Colder.¡±

    Yulianna takes the single chair as I lean against one of the windows. She flashes me one more worried look before turning her attention to the bloom decorating her table. A dainty finger touches one of the plump petals, stroking it softly. I turn my eyes away from the oddly suggestive sight. I really have turned into a degenerate, haven¡¯t I?

    ¡°Very few plants grow in the north and all that do are special. The Snow Aikeledi is parasitic. Its seeds are carried by the wind, skipping over the snow until the sharp barbs latch onto a creature. Those barbs grow into roots that sink into the skin, drawing strength from the blood of its host.¡±

    Saints.

    ¡°Yet, the flower is not solely a burden. It numbs its host to pain, so they do not notice the roots growing into them. It makes manabeasts infected terrors to fight, as they ignore anything but fatal wounds. It also releases a sweet smell that draws creatures. For prey, it is a death sentence, but for predators, it provides a steady stream of food.¡±

    Her smile is sad but sweet. ¡°The alchemists of the fort grow them, harvesting the seeds and planting them on manabeasts they raise and capture. They¡¯re used to make creature lures that are invaluable for the campaigns. The Waning Stars, the female order attached to the Bleak Moons, uses this as their crest. A life-sucking killer is beloved because it is useful. Distasteful, but a fitting symbol for my home.¡±

    She drops her hand and takes a few small bites of her food. Her features remain placid. Heh. Even someone used to the sorry meal isn¡¯t happy about it. ¡°Has Alana talked to you about her mother?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. Best I leave that for her to explain. I will simply say that, when she came to our house, it was a big surprise. I think she wanted a family. Instead, she got a commander and fellow soldiers. It didn¡¯t help that she was behind in her martial studies, having only picked up a stick to swing for fun until then. She was nothing until she proved herself. She wasn¡¯t even allowed to stay in the house.¡±

    She holds her chin in one hand as she chews of a strip of dried meat. ¡°Looking back, I can see where I went wrong but you have to understand, Lady Tome¡ª"

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen me without pants. No point calling me Lady Tome.¡±

    She grins. ¡°Then, may I call you Lou?¡± Her smile widens after I nod. ¡°You must call me Yulia.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡°Good, good. You¡¯re wonderfully easy to talk to Lou. If only¡­¡± She shakes her head. ¡°As I was saying, I went about approaching Allie all wrong. I grew up in the James household. I didn¡¯t see the endless training as proving myself, it was just what we had to do, like the children of the servants had chores around the house. Besides that, my father always was a little more lenient on me. Oh, he never said anything or carried me on his shoulders, but he didn¡¯t mind that I never fought as hard. Mother says it¡¯s because I resemble Aunt Faith.¡±

    ¡°His sister that died.¡±

    Yulianna¡¯s eyes widen. ¡°How do¡­did Allie show you the Remembrance Room?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re talking about the room with all the portraits of your family members, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Her face flushes the faintest pink. ¡°Your, um, relationship with my sister is closer than I thought.¡±

    ¡°All because she showed me some paintings?¡±

    ¡°So, you don¡¯t know.¡± The mischievous smile from last night returns. ¡°The Remembrance Room is usually shown to our spouses on the eve of our weddings, to show the weight of the burden they want to carry and to ask for the blessing of our ancestors.¡± Her eyes twinkle with amusement. ¡°If you were a man, it¡¯d be as good as a proposal.¡±

    My future saint is getting devious, not sharing that information. I¡¯ll have to give her a good reward later. ¡°Why do I have to be a man for it to be a proposal?¡± I ask, my turn to be amused as her mind visibly blanks with confusion.

    ¡°Um, because men marry women?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m married to a woman though.¡±

    ¡°You¡­are?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Her confused eyes widen and a deeper flush comes to her face as she likely sees our meeting in a new light. ¡°Oh! Oh, my.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem too surprised.¡±

    She giggles nervously. ¡°Do you know of the tradition of female knights in Victory?¡±

    ¡°Do you mean how they swear off marriage and children while active members of the order?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that. The more traditional orders take it to an extreme, forbidding their members from having relations with men of any kind. Certain, um, practices are common amongst them, especially the trainees.¡±

    I¡¯m nowhere close to being dense enough to miss the subtle implication. Whole orders of women who sleep with other women? Please introduce me. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have personal experience.¡±

    She laughs. ¡°Haha, no, no. When I did my one campaign, I was with the Stars, under Aunt Anastasia. None of them would dare make such a proposal to a James daughter. I would say no one in Victory has the daring. You must be rather brave.¡±

    Brave? I don¡¯t know. Rather than brave, I think it¡¯d be better to say I¡¯ve grown accustomed to risks and dangerous situations being with Kierra. One can only be scared for so long before it becomes routine. ¡°Thanks, but can you go back to why your relationship with Alana is so bad?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± She points at me dramatically. ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯ve escaped. I still have questions for you, young lady. I want to know who¡¯s courting my sister.¡± I nod in agreement and she settles. ¡°Yes, where was I?¡±

    ¡°Discussing how you approached her the wrong way.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I didn¡¯t understand how desperate she was back then. Mother isn¡¯t¡­she isn¡¯t the warmest of women. Kalise was always nice but she was still fighting in the campaigns back then. Aliza is a doll but Father hadn¡¯t married her yet so she wasn¡¯t in the house often. When I heard I had a little sister near my own age, after twelve years surrounded by knights and brothers who wanted to be knights, I was ecstatic.

    ¡°I wanted to do sister things. Pick flowers from corpses. Braid each other¡¯s hair. Help her pick out clothes instead of armor.¡± She sighs. ¡°I wanted her to stop training so hard and play with me. To talk to me about anything other than fighting and our father. Eventually, she told me off. I was so upset. James children are taught to be tough, to swallow the pain and keep going, but Allie¡­I wanted us to get along so badly¡­¡±

    She hides her eyes with one hand. ¡°I¡¯m embarrassed about it to this day but I cried. I¡¯m¡­blessed to be loved by many people. I knew I¡¯d never be the best fighter so I turned my efforts to what I can do. Comforting those who do fight. Offering a smile and a kind word. My many friends¡­they saw what happened in the worst light. Her fellow trainees thought she had hurt me out of jealously. They made life¡­difficult.¡±

    ¡°One moment. Would one of those people who made her life difficult be named Ler¡­Ly¡­Lucas?¡±

    She winces. ¡°He was one of the most enthusiastic, stemming from his infatuation with me. It got especially bad when I rejected him. Something that did not help my attempts to reconcile with Allie.¡±

    There is a dead man walking around Victory. His heart still beats and he still draws breath, unaware that his life won¡¯t last much longer.

    ¡°It got to the point that Father determined it was interfering with their training. So, he sent Allie off to the Hall. I think it was also to temper her will. To see if she would give up on the north after witnessing some place warmer with less judgment. If I wanted to be sentimental, I¡¯d say he hoped she did. He may not show it but losing so many children has to cut deep.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-66

    Yulianna smiles. ¡°A decision that seems to have turned out for the best. Here you are.¡±

    ¡°So confident. You don¡¯t know anything about me.¡±

    She finishes her food and laces her fingers. ¡°Mm, I need to make a small confession. I may know a little about you.¡±

    My eyes narrow. Sneaky sister has been being sneaky, hm? ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°My husband is one of the field commanders for the Bleak Moons. That means he¡¯ll be leading one of the armies in the campaign. He may not be in charge of the hunters, but he¡¯s interested in them, to ¡®make sure they stay out of the way¡¯. The Moons have been keeping an eye on them and they keep grumbling about a noblewoman with the violet hair.¡± One of her fingers points at my distinctive locks. ¡°It¡¯s a given he¡¯d want to know about the group that killed a guildmaster.¡±

    She holds out her hands. ¡°Of course, all he managed to gather is rumors. For as much as they hate you, the hunters knew next to nothing about you besides you being an acolyte. I wasn¡¯t sure you were the person from the rumors until I re-read the reports this morning.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one who killed the guildmaster. That was my wife.¡±

    She suddenly leans forward. ¡°Would that be the green-skinned woman they mentioned. Is it right that she¡¯s an actual elf? Seriously?¡±

    ¡°She is.¡±

    ¡°Wow. Do you think I could meet her?¡±

    ¡°Depends. I was going to find her right now.¡± She should still be in the house but there is the slightest chance that she went on a happy stroll past the mountains for a little ¡°entertainment¡±. Really small. Practically nonexistent. Sigh. Bet I¡¯m the only one in Victory who has these kinds of worries. Or maybe not.

    ¡°Oh! Will you allow me to accompany you?¡±

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    She hastily wipes her mouth, an unnecessary gesture that reminds me of her mother, before standing. ¡°I am now.¡±

    Her grin and general excitement remind me of a child asking to go to the market. I am very confused by Yulianna James. She presents as nothing more than a cuddly woman who wants to spread hugs and sunshine to as many people as she can. Beneath that is a James daughter, shown by her knowledge about me.

    Perhaps she¡¯s a blade wrapped in so many layers of fluff, you forget there¡¯s a dangerous weapon underneath. Or maybe that blade is made of wood, easily mistaken as a deadly instrument at a glance but something completely different up close.

    The problem. If those are the only options, it doesn¡¯t explain Alana¡¯s dislike of her sister. Maybe I¡¯m overestimating my future saint, emotions can be fickle things and she would have been a child at the time, but I can¡¯t see her utterly rejecting her sister because of others¡¯ actions.

    She ignored every rumor about me and judged me by my actions. Bullying? She almost had to fight acolytes because I started a fight with a noble and she still didn¡¯t blame me. She was ready to stand against a prince for saints¡¯ sake. I can¡¯t see it.

    No. If I know my future saint, whatever Yulianna did, it had to be deliberate, inexcusable, and very personal. Yet, the sneaky sister has made no mention of such an event. Wants to paint their strained relationship as the result of many unfortunate happenings outside of her control.

    I¡¯m having a hard time judging her sincerity. From what she¡¯s shown me, there¡¯s a real chance she could have done something horrible without realizing it.

    If that¡¯s the case, do I intervene? Just because they can have a better relationship, doesn¡¯t mean Alana wants one. I want what Alana wants. If that means kicking the poor, hapless, misunderstood bunny to the side, I won¡¯t feel good about it but it is what it is.

    ¡°Do you know the way to Kalise¡¯s bedroom?¡±

    -

    Uproarious laughter spills out from the room as we come to a stop outside the heavy wooden door. A woman dressed in full plate, painted a dark blue, stands to the side of it. She gives me a disapproving look before bowing her head to the bunny escorting me. ¡°Lady Yulianna.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here to visit Kalise¡­but it sounds as if she¡¯s busy.¡±

    ¡°She is entertaining the elf.¡±

    ¡°She spent the night?¡± My darling deviant, you better have kept your promise.

    The female knight sighs deeply. ¡°They¡¯ve been talking all night.¡±

    Aw, Kii made a friend.

    ¡°Announce us, please,¡± Yulianna half-asks, half-orders.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°No need,¡± I assure her, hearing the laughter cut off. I hear my wife¡¯s footsteps moments before the door is opened.

    Kierra, her clothes exchanged for a long white cloth that hangs between her legs and a fluffy, brown pelt that hangs over her shoulders just long enough to cover her breasts, leans in the doorway. Her eyes are hooded as she licks her lips. My stomach does a rare flip as she smiles, my eyes raking over her perfectly sculpted body. Mm. Normally, when the clothes come off, I don¡¯t have much time to simply admire her. A rare treat.

    ¡°Lou,¡± she purrs, her voice making me melt. ¡°A sample of southern clothing. Not too different from Twilight. You like?¡±

    I let out a rumble of approval, fearing the river of drool that might escape if I open my mouth to respond.

    ¡°Oh my,¡± Yulia mutters, cheeks flushed.

    Kierra saunters forward, putting her arms around my shoulders. My hands slide down her back to grab her ass as she forces me to walk backward until I hit the wall. Then she ducks her head to kiss me.

    I¡¯ve long passed the point of being embarrassed by public affection. I return her eager kiss. My abnormally long tongue dominates the kiss, pushing past her soft lips. She responds by sucking on it oh so gently. Damn woman. She knows that always gets me going.

    ¡°Oi! Get back ¡®ere, Greenie! Wha, ah. Don¡¯t be wrangling bulls in the fecking halls. You owe me more drink.¡±

    Kierra ignores the grumbling barbarian but I don¡¯t. Pulling away from her hungry mouth, I shift my lips to her neck, brushing them against her smooth skin as I whisper, ¡°How many of my barrels have you guzzled?¡±

    ¡°Three. Ahhn~¡±

    She has the audacity to moan, fingers pushing into my hair to pull me closer as my kiss turns into a bite. Three whole barrels in a night?! That much liquor could drown seven grown men. And she¡¯s planning on drinking more! Doesn¡¯t make a dent in my supply but at this rate, it¡¯ll be gone by the end of the week.

    She licks my ear and nibbles on it. ¡°Have I been bad, Lou?¡± she asks, not a single trace of contriteness in her tone. ¡°Are you going to make me pay?¡±

    It is my turn next. ¡°For every drop.¡±

    ¡°Then I better drink my fill.¡±

    She steps back and I drop my arms. With her warm body no longer distracting me, I take note of my surroundings. The bleary-eyed, bronze skinned barbarian holding onto the doorway to stay standing who doesn¡¯t look like she can drink another cup let alone a whole barrel, the female knight guarding the door who is watching us with a stern frown whose stoicism is ruined by the faint flush to her cheeks, and the bunny covering her face with her hands, an eye peeking at us through two spread fingers. ¡°Who¡¯s been delivering the barrels?¡±

    ¡°The little pet.¡±

    Bell, huh. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll send another by.¡±

    Kierra gives me one final kiss. ¡°I will see you later, my love,¡± she proclaims a touch louder than she needs to, the showoff. She turns back to Kalise, pushing her back into the room.

    ¡°Sure you dun wanna invite yer moon sister in? Wouldn¡¯t mind a show with the next cup, bwahahaha!¡±

    Their laughter is muffled by the door swinging shut. Leaving the rest of us in a tense atmosphere. Well, the other two. I¡¯m perfectly comfortable. ¡°So, that¡¯s my wife, Kierra Atainna.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s, uh.¡± Yulia lowers her hands, revealing her smile. ¡°She¡¯s certainly something.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°You must tell me how the two of you met.¡±

    I nod to the watchwoman before walking back the way we came. Yulia hastily jogs to catch up, falling in step behind me. ¡°Sure. I think you¡¯ll love it. Could have come straight from a fairy tale.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t wait.¡± She hesitates for a moment before asking in a tentative voice, ¡°Is Alana meant to be your second wife? Or is your relationship¡­less committed?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to look so worried. It¡¯s not exactly an offensive question.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure. Marrying multiple partners is not the norm outside of Victory.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to pry but¡­I¡¯m concerned about Alana. Frankly, I can¡¯t imagine her casually sharing intimacy. The few times I tried to touch her before things got¡­really bad, she froze like a pillar of ice. I¡¯ve never seen her so much as hug anyone aside from her mother. It¡¯s clear you and your wife love each other. I don¡¯t mean to offend but I¡¯m worried, hm, where Alana stands.¡±

    ¡°I love her. That¡¯s where she stands.¡±

    Yulia ducks her head. ¡°I¡¯ve overstepped. I apologize.¡±

    I guess a little annoyance managed to slip into my tone. ¡°I¡¯m not mad at you. My temper flares a little every time you speak of Alana¡¯s past.¡± And maybe I was a touch agitated by her insinuating I might abandon her, even if that¡¯s not what she meant. ¡°It¡¯s not pleasant to hear about the way she was treated.¡±

    Her smile returns. ¡°No, I suppose it wouldn¡¯t be.¡±

    ¡°You should know what I¡¯m talking about. You¡¯re married, after all. With a child. It¡¯s very late but congratulations.¡±

    Her smile becomes curious. I like to think I¡¯m good at reading people but there¡¯s so much there, it¡¯s hard to pick apart. ¡°Thank you. Do you like kids? I was worried about being a mother. I¡¯ve lost four brothers and many more friends. I¡­hate to think of the day my son¡­¡± She lets out a shaky breath. ¡°But I love my little butterball.¡±

    ¡°Butterball?¡±

    She giggles. ¡°He¡¯s so round and cute. You¡¯ll see. It definitely fits.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question. About liking kids. I understand your wife has a pure physical affinity¡ª"

    ¡°Who told you that?¡± The hunters wouldn¡¯t have known. ¡°Time for another confession?¡± I drawl.

    ¡°Nothing so serious. I talked with my brother this morning. As I am no competition to his inheritance, he likes to air his frustrations to me.¡±

    ¡°Hm. As for your question, I don¡¯t feel one way or the other about children.¡± I smile as I remember my bet with Kierra. ¡°But I do plan on having my own. Kierra is especially keen on ¡®expanding the clan¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Alana as a mother. It¡¯s a little hard to imagine.¡±

    My lips twitch as I hold back a frown. Was that an insult? ¡°I think she¡¯d be great.¡±

    ¡°Oh, me too. It¡¯s just, I always saw her as the next head of the Waning Stars, taking over from Aunt Anastasia. It just¡­breaks my expectations to think of her putting down her sword to raise a family.¡±

    ¡°Is there any reason she can¡¯t do both?¡±

    ¡°Maybe she can but speaking from my own experience, I couldn¡¯t bear to risk my life in some frozen wasteland and miss spending time with my boy. There is a reason the female knights have their traditions.¡±

    ¡°Well, she doesn¡¯t have to stop fighting anytime soon. Better, if we conquer the north, there¡¯d be no need to choose.¡±

    She looks at me from the corner of her eye. ¡°Do you think you can? End this war?¡±

    ¡°Now? I don¡¯t know, but if that¡¯s what Alana wants, I will. One day.¡±

    Yulia giggles. ¡°My husband said something similar. When I lamented the fate of all like me, who aren¡¯t meant for this war, and the future of my children, he swore that he would conquer the north before the next generation are grown enough to march. That¡¯s when I decided to marry him.¡±

    ¡°Do you think he can keep that promise?¡±

    ¡°I know he¡¯ll do everything he can. More importantly, I know he loves me and our family. That¡¯s enough.¡±

    Sigh. This woman is really hard to hate.

 ARC 6-Winter War-67

    I find Cloud and Geneva in the room I was meant to be sleeping in, beside Alana¡¯s room. The tamer is sprawled on the bed face down, dressed in nothing but a towel over the back of her waist. My succubus in the guise of a thrall is hunched over her back, dainty hooves digging into the sheets while her fingers dig into Cloud¡¯s shoulders. If I didn¡¯t have my eyes on them, the sounds they¡¯re making would paint a very different picture.

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell comes rocketing toward me, leaping at my chest. I snatch her out of the air and cuddle her close. Ah, I remember when I was so weak carrying the creature of living stone around made my arms go numb.

    ¡°Hello, my precious imp.¡± I nuzzle her smooth head, luxuriating in the heat of her skin. Only extreme temperatures can affect this body but I can still feel, and appreciate, smaller changes. Come to think of it, for a place in perpetual winter, this house is comfortable heat wise. I wonder what the trick is? ¡°What have you been doing?¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡± [We have been spying on members of the household to give you a tactical advantage, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Is that so? Thank you~¡±

    I cuddle her closer as I take a seat on the bed. ¡°I hope you two haven¡¯t been causing problems.¡± Like letting a certain elf drink all my liquor. She¡¯s going to need another barrel soon.

    ¡°No at all, my summoner, but it would seem a few members of the James household want to cause problems for us.¡± Cloud lets out a muffled groan as Geneva¡¯s fingers move lower. ¡°Servants attempted to eavesdrop on your room four times last night and we have faced multiple attempts to investigate our wares. They have also made things difficult for the beasts of burden.¡±

    ¡°They mean to oust my brethren,¡± Cloud mumbles comfortably.

    ¡°While the argument that the surplus is a strain on the relatively small personal stable of the family is true, they are being rather obstinate about simple matters,¡± Geneva says, smiling as she elicits a particularly ambiguous sound. ¡°The servants avoid this room. They don¡¯t even inform us of mealtimes. Even if their thoughts weren¡¯t so loud, it is obvious that Alana is being sabotaged, if not outright despised.¡±

    ¡°Yes, her standing in her family isn¡¯t great. If someone¡¯s sabotaging her, it would be her brother.¡±

    ¡°Zachariah.¡± Not surprised she knows his name. ¡°He was on their minds. Particularly how Alana does not measure up to him. The servants are taking sides. When the heir takes power, it is not uncommon to remove unwanted servants. They hope to stay in the house by displaying their loyalty now.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Well, Alana has asked us to leave her family alone but that didn¡¯t include the servants. Keep them under control. Did you gather anything else?¡±

    ¡°Of course. To the outside, Victory may seem united but they have their problems like any other organization. The people have grown discontent with the duke, as he has not shown his face in the campaigns for years. They think he is weak and weakness is not appreciated. He will have to step down soon but the duke doesn¡¯t think his son is ready. Too focused on glory instead of prosperity.¡±

    How long have we been here? This woman is seriously scary. It amazes me that the Masons have summoned dozens and dozens of succubi without a care. I wonder if their inflated egos actually blinded them to how close they all were to disaster.

    ¡°Which leads to the problem of succession. Zachariah is seen as the best option of the duke¡¯s children and he has tradition on his side. The problem is the Northern Devil. Yulianna may not be her brother¡¯s equal but her husband is. Better, he already has his first heir while Zachariah resists marriage.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess. The servants and the house support Zach, while the knights support Yulia¡¯s husband.¡±

    ¡°The knights are split, torn between their preference and tradition. The Northern Devil is serious about conquering the north. The knights think he has a chance, or at least a better chance than Zachariah. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if most of the favored heir¡¯s bluster is rooted in a sense of insecurity.¡±

    ¡°Is there going to be a rebellion?¡±

    ¡°This environment isn¡¯t conducive to one. Assassination would be better. It would fail anyway. The Bleak Moons are loyal to Zachariah, despite the Devil being one of them, due to his mother. The servants work for the boy but they are terrified of her.¡±

    ¡°The true power behind the wannabe patriarch. Not an uncommon story. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Rumors, most of them irrelevant. There is one you may be interested in. Many of the servants are anticipating the arrival of Alana¡¯s betrothed.¡±

    I reflexively squeeze Bell hard enough to kill a less sturdy creature. ¡°Her what?¡±

    Geneva grins. ¡°They are expecting the arrival a young man they believe she will be marrying in the near future. A fellow light caster. A classic case of breeding.¡±

    That¡¯s all I can stomach before I¡¯m on my feet and stomping from the room.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    -

    Alana is curled up on her bed when I throw open the door. Her features are scrunched in concentration but they slacken in surprise as she takes in my visage. I don¡¯t know the face I¡¯m making but it can¡¯t be pretty, despite my efforts to control my expression.

    ¡°I heard an interesting rumor today,¡± I say evenly while closing the door. ¡°A rumor that you¡¯re engaged.¡±

    Her brows furrow. That¡¯s her confused-serious face. Good, she wasn¡¯t hiding it. That would have¡­that would have hurt. A hand comes up to massage her brow as she sighs. ¡°I think I know what this is about. First, I¡¯m not engaged so calm down.¡±

    That¡¯s what I needed to hear. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before approaching. Alana cleans up the papers spread over the bed to make room for me to sit down. I ignore her intention, guiding her to lie back and moving on top of her.

    ¡°We can¡¯t mess around right now,¡± she whispers, our noses almost touching.

    ¡°I won¡¯t. Just want to be close. Okay?¡± I grin as she nods. ¡°Good. Now tell me who I¡¯m murdering.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t. It¡¯s not his fault.¡±

    My eyes narrow. ¡°You know this bastard?¡±

    ¡°Remember I told you about the one genuine good person I know?¡±

    ¡°The reason you don¡¯t think I should call you a saint?¡± I groan in annoyance as she nods. ¡°Really?¡±

    She sighs. ¡°It¡¯s so tiring but it¡¯s very hard to hate him.¡±

    ¡°Kind of like your sister.¡±

    She scowls. ¡°What does that mean? No, let me guess. I¡¯m sure she stole you for the morning and the two of you had a lovely talk. She made big eyes and lamented the fact that there¡¯s one person in this saints damned place that doesn¡¯t worship the ground she walks on. What a tragedy. She just wants to be close with her poor, distraught, lonely sister.¡±

    ¡°¡­something along those lines.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet she told you it wasn¡¯t her fault. That it was all a misunderstanding.¡±

    ¡°Wait, this conversation was supposed to be about your supposed husband.¡±

    In a surprising move, she flips me. Wow, that training with Kierra is really showing. ¡°This is about something else now,¡± she bites out, eyes boring into me. ¡°Let me tell you about my sister, Lou, before you get too infatuated. Yulianna is perfectly lovely, as long as she gets what she wants. And she will do anything to get what she wants.

    ¡°Sure, she was the only one to approach me when Father finally acknowledged my existence, but she didn¡¯t do that for me. She wanted a sister to play with. I was no different from a walking, talking doll. If she wanted to help me, she could have helped with my training. Defended me from her mother. Did something about¡ª¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°She didn¡¯t want to help me. She wanted me to amuse her. And when she didn¡¯t get what she wanted, she pouted and cried, making herself look pitiful. Knowing someone would swoop in to coddle her.

    ¡°Every time one of the trainees broke my things and injured me in spars on purpose, she always apologized. Swore she didn¡¯t mean for it to happen. Made it seem like there was nothing she could do. She¡¯s a saints damned James! All she had to do was snap her fingers and she could have had them all in line! But she loved it. Them getting angry on their behalf. Bringing her gifts. Beating each other into the snow out of jealously.¡±

    If anger gave off light, her eyes would be glowing brighter than the sun. She is furious, chest heaving and teeth grit when she pauses in her rant. ¡°Worse, I think she was waiting for me to break. Hoping I¡¯d either beg for her help so she could bludgeon me with gratitude or that too many blows to my head would make me see someone else as the enemy. She may have a pretty face but she is a disgusting narcissist. Yulianna is incapable of caring about anything other than herself. Remember that the next time she bats her lashes at you.¡±

    It¡¯s my time to furrow my brows. ¡°Isn¡¯t that bit much? She¡¯s married with a child. I¡¯ve seen her talk about them. Saying she doesn¡¯t love anyone¡ª"

    Alana scoffs. Then her features suddenly soften. ¡°Oh, Lou,¡± she whispers, one hand touching my cheek. ¡°You¡¯re, mm. Whatever else anyone else says about you, your¡­heart is pure.¡±

    ¡°Thank you?¡±

    The hand on my cheek moves to pinch my nose. ¡°Your emotions are genuine. If you hate someone, you hate them. If you love someone, you love them. It¡¯s wonderfully uncomplicated.¡±

    ¡°¡­thank you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m complimenting you. You probably can¡¯t even understand a creature like my sister. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s convinced you she loves her family. She truly might, in the only way she¡¯s capable of it. Her husband, the Northern Devil, challenged and killed three other suitors. Where do you think he got his name?¡±

    ¡°Saints¡­¡±

    ¡°As for her son, children overflow with love for their parents. Of course she loves her son more than anything. He¡¯s everything she wants. We¡¯ll see how she feels about her darling boy if he grows up and tries to ignore her.¡±

    ¡°Alana, you do know what you¡¯re suggesting, don¡¯t you?¡± If she¡¯s right, her sister is¡­

    Alana laughs. ¡°I know, Lou. Oh, do I know. Her fans did not react well to me revealing her nature to them.¡± She drops her head to my chest. ¡°¡­but you believe me¡­right?¡±

    My arms go around her back and hug her gently. ¡°I guess but it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    She raises her head just enough to peek at me. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You know I¡¯d do anything for you. It doesn¡¯t matter if your sister is a reincarnated saint sent down from Paradise to bring salvation to all of humanity, if you don¡¯t want me to have anything to do with her, I won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± After a few moments of silence, she laughs softly. ¡°That¡¯s my Lou.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    ¡°¡­I admit, I was worried. You¡¯re weak to a pretty face.¡±

    ¡°True, but I don¡¯t know why you were worried. You¡¯re the prettier sister.¡±

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    ¡°By far.¡±

    A weak fist hits me in the side. ¡°You don¡¯t have to lie to make me feel better.¡±

    She yelps as I flip us over again. I grab her chin with two fingers and force her to meet my gaze. ¡°What did I say about insulting yourself?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not an insult,¡± she grumbles shyly. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­objectively¡ª"

    I quiet her with a kiss.

    ¡°You can¡¯t¡ª"

    I kiss her again.

    ¡°I¡ª"

    This time, my tongue pushes past her lips, filling her mouth with my taste. By the time I pull away, her cheeks are flushed and she¡¯s panting for breath. ¡°Sorry, you were saying something?¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m the prettier sister.¡±

    ¡°The most beautiful woman in the north.¡±

    ¡°Even more than Kierra?¡± She squeaks, turning her face to dodge my lips. ¡°Fine, fine. Enough! Or I really won¡¯t be able to focus.¡±

    Her hands push against my stomach but I don¡¯t move. ¡°We didn¡¯t finish talking about your betrothed.¡±

    She groans. ¡°We¡¯re not engaged. You saw my father. He lets his children make their own decisions but every decision is measured. Our partners are judged heavily. Back then, I was so desperate to please my father, I only thought of marriage in terms of merit. Marrying another light caster would have been very meritorious. It was a given that I¡¯d do it.¡± She smiles softly. ¡°Might have if I hadn¡¯t met you.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± I grudgingly climb off her, leaning against her shoulder once she sits up. ¡°Show me what you¡¯re working on.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-68

    After a rousing discussion, trying to follow along as Alana talked at me about troop deployment for the campaign and optimal positioning, I convince her to give me a tour of the house. Not even the James are exempt from noble pride. Their home still has places of extravagance and leisure.

    Like every noble worth their title, the James have a library, though theirs is focused on military history, tactics, and the heroes of Victory. Their armory is also impressive, though incredibly utilitarian. There¡¯s stone, there¡¯s metal, and not much else. The only decoration is a single banner. However, the house does have one interesting feature. The basement.

    Specifically, the key feature of any estate in the north, the home furnace, a large cylindrical structure of stone with one thick pipe sprouting from its top and disappearing into the ceiling. It¡¯s separated into two parts. The bottom is kept heated by burning strange black stones apparently mined throughout the region. The larger, upper part is for the snow and ice cleared from around the fort.

    The snow and ice are heated in the furnace and turned into steam. Apparently, the stone pipe at the top of it branches into dozens of smaller pipes that run throughout the house. The circulating steam keeps the building warm. And all without magic.

    I asked why they didn¡¯t use artifacts for the job, like the one over the door, and the answer is that the war consumes too many resources. They refuse to use something as valuable as affinity stones on something as frivolous as staying warm. Only in Victory.

    However, there is a cost to the non-magical solution. That would be the servants that live underground. Four of them, three young boys and a girl, live in rooms barely large enough to be called closets on the opposite side of the room as the boiler. Orphans with no family to support them, working for bread and shelter. They keep the hissing beast functioning at all hours, splitting the day into two shifts. They aren¡¯t allowed into the main house for any reason, having a separate entrance to the surface. That they reach by squeezing through a tunnel, like rodents.

    It was a thoroughly miserable sight I could have gone without ever seeing. Alana wasn¡¯t thrilled witnessing it either, standing on the stairs leading to the basement and averting her eyes. The poor kids looked similarly uncomfortable being observed. The way they hunched their shoulders and edged closer to shadows gave the impression of rats, though I felt guilty for making that comparison, even in my mind.

    My tour revealed another, uglier side of Victory. When nobles of the capital speak of Victory, it¡¯s with disdain and vague concern. They don¡¯t understand the uncompromising zeal of the northern warriors but are more than willing to indulge them as long as they keep their swords pointed in the right direction.

    When the commoners speak of Victory, their words hold awe and admiration. A society where worth is determined by merit, where anyone can be recognized, sounds incredible, despite the danger. Some are even drawn to the danger and the opportunity to train, either as knights or casters.

    No one thinks about those without merit. Those who cannot brew potions, shape armor, forge weapons, or fight monsters. The completely ordinary who die in droves trying to prove themselves or worse, the untalented. The poor bastards who just can¡¯t manage to do most things well.

    In our village, even the slow-witted and disabled can make a living doing honest work. They aren¡¯t consigned to the darkness. Thankfully, heat stoking is one of the worse jobs and only taken by the desperate but servants aren¡¯t treated well in this fort. Not at all.

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    The more I learn about this place, the better I understand Alana¡¯s past, and the more I don¡¯t like it. Yet, I want to know more. It¡¯s insatiable, my desire for her, even her unhappy memories.

    I love her for indulging me, despite the subject making her uncomfortable. Nothing gets under her skin like her family and Victory. I can¡¯t imagine how much they hurt her¡­and yet, she can¡¯t pull away from them. As if the constant snow and cold people weren¡¯t enough to make me dislike this place.

    After witnessing the depressing reality of servants in the north, I desperately need something to cheer me up. We have a couple of hours to kill before dinner so Alana recommends taking a stroll through the rest of the fort. Options for entertainment include watching drills, watching exhibition fights in the arena at the center of the fort, and visiting a real knight order. I take her up on her offer, as I also want to drum up interest in my wares. I brought a lot of liquor with me and I can¡¯t drink it all. Well, I could, but it would be a waste when it could save lives. And make money.

    I also want to inquire about the monsters past the Peaks. The books in the James¡¯ family library contain a fair bit of information, which is why Geneva is currently reading through them. I want to ask experienced knights about their personal encounters. Nothing goes together better than stories and a good drink.

    Alana and I leave the estate with one sword, three glass bottles, half a dozen cups in a small bag, and an imp riding on my shoulders. A shouted, ¡°Wait!¡± stops us at the door.

    We both pause in putting on our shoes to look up. Yulia is hurrying toward us, as much as decorum and her heavy dress will allow. A fur-lined cloak is in one arm. She¡¯s clearly planning on going somewhere. Did she mean to come with us? I don¡¯t think Alana will approve.

    My guess is proved right immediately as my future wife hastens to put on her boots. In response, Yulia quickens her pace. I can¡¯t help thinking they¡¯re both being a little ridiculous.

    The sneaky sister reaches us before we can slip out the door. ¡°Allie. Lou.¡± Is it wrong that I¡¯m a little delighted when Alana scowls at the casual use of my name? ¡°What fortuitous timing. I was just about to head home. Perhaps we can walk together?¡±

    Her eyes are wide and hopeful as she looks at me. I can practically hear her begging for me to help her. To be the bridge between the two sisters and help mend the broken relationship.

    I ignore her silent request, turning my head.

    ¡°We aren¡¯t headed for the bunkhouses,¡± Alana bites out.

    ¡°A shame but we can go for as long as we¡¯re together. Perhaps I can help with your assignment from father? I¡¯m not too good at these things but you know my husband.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the offer but I don¡¯t need pillow-talk expertise.¡±

    I wince but hold my tongue. Yulia doesn¡¯t make any more attempts at conversation but she does follow us as we leave the house. What I hoped to be a fun jaunt through the fort is instead a terse walk filled with tension as Alana tries to leave her sister behind and Yulia stubbornly keeps pace. In no time, we pass the garden of swords and exit the gate formed of ice.

    A group of five hunters are waiting a short distance away. I know they¡¯re hunters because there is no fur in their outfits. Everyone wears fur in the north. It¡¯s weak evidence but I would have been comfortable with my assumption.

    What seals it in stone is their manner. They are huddled together in a small circle, hands tucked under their arms or in front of their faces as they blow on them. All of them shiver intermittently. They look cold. Natives of Victory prance around shirtless in this weather. Obvious outsiders.

    At first, I think they¡¯re simply admiring the duke¡¯s estate, the usual gawking people with wealth and power have to endure. My opinion changes when one of them sees us and quickly gestures to the others. Eyes narrow, nostrils flare, and the five hunters come stomping toward us.

    ¡°You!¡± the one in the lead, a tall man with a face flushed by the cold and ill-fitting gloves on his hands, sneers at me. ¡°Are you Lourianne Tome?¡±

    Before I get the chance to respond, one of the men behind him interjects. ¡°Oi, who else is walking around with that kind of hair? It¡¯s her.¡±

    ¡°Look at her face,¡± a third says, though I have no idea what he means by that.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± The leader cracks his knuckles. ¡°I been waiting for this. With the mountains as my witness, I declare that you have wronged me and mine beyond reconciliation. Our grudge can only be settled by blood. I challenge you to combat, knowing and accepting all consequences of my words.¡± He sneers. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you can do without your monsters to protect you, little noble.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-69

    I stare at the man, brows furrowed and lips pursed. I understand the intent clearly enough. He¡¯s come looking for revenge. What gives me pause is that speech. It sounded very deliberate. He spoke slowly, as if checking his words before he said them. The better tell is the sharp breath Alana takes beside me.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening right now?¡± I ask, leaning toward her.

    ¡°Allow me to explain.¡± Oh, the bunny does not look happy. Her displeasure isn¡¯t the slightest bit threatening. ¡°I¡¯m sure you know how Victory handles disputes. When there is a grudge between two residents of the north that cannot be settled through mediation, the offended party is able to level a challenge to the offender.¡±

    She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. ¡°This is no ordinary challenge and it is not like your duels in the south. It is always to the death. But it is not only their lives they wager. They wager their house. Their honor. They¡­there is nothing I can compare it to. The challenge cannot be rescinded and it cannot be avoided. Anyone who dares is exiled from the north, their names struck from any records and family registries. That still wouldn¡¯t erase the shame it would bring on their house and order.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Alana is downright seething. Her hands ball into fists at her sides. ¡°Who taught you those words?¡±

    I look to Yulia for an explanation. She obliges.

    ¡°So none may misconstrue a regular spar for a challenge, the wording is very precise. It must be said correctly and in its entirety. The words are also not written down. Only a native of Victory is taught what a challenge means and only when they are old enough and wise enough to understand what they are risking.¡±

    ¡°Someone taught them knowing you couldn¡¯t refuse,¡± Alana bites out.

    Because I¡¯ll be kicked from Victory. Ah, wait. Yulia said something about how declining the challenge will bring shame to a person¡¯s family. I don¡¯t have family here but I am Alana¡¯s bannerwoman. She told me that she¡¯s responsible for all my actions. Does that include this challenge? If I refuse, would that tarnish her reputation here beyond repair?

    ¡°Coo!¡± [You are correct, Master Lou. Also, the one to teach them this method was one of the servants loyal to Zachariah.]

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, does it? Either fight me or run away with your tail between your legs again, coward.¡±

    Run? These idiots think I ran from the guildhouse because I was scared of them? I saved your lives! They don¡¯t understand that Kierra and Geneva would have painted the streets of Quest red with their blood if I didn¡¯t insist on limiting casualties.

    This. This is why I didn¡¯t stop that night and explain my actions. Why I didn¡¯t entertain anyone trying to question me. I wanted my position to be untenable so they didn¡¯t dream of challenging me, as that was the only way to save lives and limit the damage. Despite my efforts, these idiots have convinced themselves they can bring me down. Which has led to this.

    Before I can respond, Alana grabs my arm and tugs me backward. I let her drag me away and she forces my head down to whisper in my ear.

    ¡°You cannot understand what this challenge means,¡± she hisses. ¡°Not really. Neither do those fools. It doesn¡¯t matter. All you need to know is that you can never refuse and it is to the death. Always. Even if they beg. Even if they cry. No one is allowed to help you. Your elementals might be allowed but I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t risk it. Unless you¡¯re fighting a master caster, leave them out of it.¡±

    ¡°And how am I supposed to know I¡¯m fighting a master caster?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m being serious, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright.¡±

    She stares into my eyes for several moments before nodding and dragging me back. With her little push on my back to prompt me, I step forward to face the leader. ¡°Why are you doing this? You do know you¡¯re going to die, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky. We know it was that elf that killed Emeritus.¡±

    ¡°Since you mentioned her, what are you going to do about my wife? In the unfeasible future you manage to kill me, you do know she¡¯s going to kill you all, challenge or not.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s strong but she can¡¯t take us all.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d argue against that. So, what? You plan to kill her too?¡±

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    ¡°Of course. And your monsters.¡± His eyes move to Bell, who hisses at him. ¡°No one messes with the guilds.¡±

    These complete idiots. In the completely unfeasible, unbelievable, incomprehensible future the hunters manage to kill me and Kierra¡­Harvest burns. My mother-in-law marches across the continent with an army, no. With her children alone and kills everyone. Maybe, maybe, the nobles manage to push them back. Then she returns with her elder sister, the queen of an elven province, and then she brings an army.

    I have to win. Not just to save myself and Alana¡¯s reputation, but also to save the kingdom. Saints. ¡°Fine. How do we do this?¡±

    ¡°A challenge requires three witnesses for each side or one James,¡± Alana replies, voice cold as ice. ¡°We do this right here, right now. Though if you don¡¯t want my father to take issue with your friends, you¡¯ll keep off the estate.¡±

    ¡°Fine with me,¡± the leader sneers.

    ¡°Dueling distance. Do you need that explained to you?¡±

    He doesn¡¯t bother answering, walking away. His friends follow him until he¡¯s an appropriate distance from me, then they move off to the side.

    ¡°Lou,¡± Yulia says softly, likely to keep the hunters from hearing. ¡°If you have any doubts, it¡¯s better to refuse. No amount of pride is worth your life.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine,¡± my future wife snaps, holding out her arms toward Bell.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Their plan is to challenge you one by one until you collapse. Whether it takes these five, fifty, or a hundred. I doubt their resolve will last that long but it is strong. I suspect it might take at least a couple dozen before they lose their nerve.]

    That is¡­such a terrible idea. If I stick to my physical abilities, I can go all day and night.

    I quickly hand my bottles and cups to Alana before facing the hunter ready to kill me. He pulls a knife from his belt as his eyes glow. I tense, prepared to sprint. A caster¡¯s biggest weakness is close-quarters combat. Get close and hit them before they can work a spell and all that mana is useless. Clearly, he¡¯s trying to show he won¡¯t be an easy target with that blade but he couldn¡¯t hurt me with that if I lied still and told him where to aim.

    ¡°The challenge begins on my mark,¡± Yulia shouts. ¡°There is no need for any more words.¡± Her voice hardens. ¡°Victory or death.¡±

    It is disturbing how many situations their harrowing motto fits.

    ¡°Begin.¡±

    As I sprint forward, six more daggers come out from the hunter¡¯s coat. Metal caster then. Means there is likely armor under his clothes but his head is unprotected.

    I throw myself forward, dodging the blades and rolling to my feet smoothly. From the corner of my eye, I see the blades turn, tracking me, but I¡¯m faster. I¡¯ll reach him before they reach me. He smirks as he sees my approach. My slow approach, by my standards. No need to reveal all my skills when I¡¯ll be fighting the on-lookers next.

    Slow enough I see him smile. When I¡¯m two steps from striking distance, metal flows around him like grey water, encasing his head. Then spikes, sharp and needle-thin burst from his chest.

    If I were anyone else, those spikes would either spear me as I run into them stupidly or, more likely, force me to retreat and rethink my strategy. Either way, his blades have enough time to reach me and finish the job. If I were anyone else, I¡¯d be forced to dodge his weapons until he runs out of mana. It¡¯d be a contest of stamina and mana pool, which is probably why he¡¯s limiting himself to six projectiles.

    Unfortunately for him, I am not normal people.

    I ignore the needles that bend without breaking my skin and punch the idiot¡¯s metal head, putting my back into it. His head is armored now but the protection is thin. Might as well be nonexistent.

    Metal dents and there is a sickening crunch as his head is caved in while being torn from his body. It lands in the snow several steps away, coloring it red. The daggers coming for me hit my back uselessly before falling along with their owner.

    ¡°Saints¡­¡± one of the hunters whispers.

    ¡°Our people said she only has a fire affinity,¡± whispered another.

    ¡°Must be melded. She¡¯s a bigger threat than we thought but the plan is the same. Wear them down and take them out.¡±

    The brave speaker steps forward, face obscured by a hood. He ignores the body of his friend, standing beside the decapitated man and raising his shield. That¡¯s cold, even for this place. ¡°Are you going to make me recite the words?¡±

    I shake gore from my hand. He doesn¡¯t flinch. The onlookers on both sides remain stoic. Saints, I¡¯m not going embarrass myself by being the only one losing my nerve over this casual and completely unnecessary murder. ¡°Why are you going this far? Torchbearers are fire casters, aren¡¯t they? He wasn¡¯t part of their guild and I doubt you are.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± The shield-wielder rolls his shoulders. ¡°I wasn¡¯t even meant to be here and plan to leave as soon as this business is handled. The guilds always repay their debts, for good or ill. Did you really think we would back down because you¡¯re strong?¡±

    ¡°Truly? Yes.¡± Like any intelligent person would.

    ¡°If you¡¯re done stalling.¡±

    ¡°One moment.¡± All eyes move to Yulia. I¡¯m surprised she isn¡¯t gagging or vomiting into the snow. She is handling all of this with a grim frown, no trace of her bubbly smile anywhere. ¡°Lourianne Tome has the right of rest between challenges. She may request a rest of six hours.¡±

    Six hours? Doesn¡¯t that make their plan a complete waste of time?

    [You may rest six hours every three days,] Bell clarifies. [She has not mentioned that restriction because she hopes they will lose their nerve¡­and also because she wants you to take the break so she may speak with her father.]

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t need it,¡± Alana says. To anyone else, it sounds like the harsh demand of a superior, pushing for results. To me, I hear the confidence of my future wife who has a much better understanding of my abilities than anyone else here. Yulia is appalled, frowning heavily at her sister. Alana doesn¡¯t even look at her, eyes focused on me.

    I flash her a smile before returning my gaze to my opponent. ¡°You heard her.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s any condolence, I regret it coming to this. You would have made a fine hunter or knight. Your death is a loss to the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°And yours isn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°There are hundreds of my caliber in Quest alone. Many of them have come here. You¡¯ll die in one of these challenges or you¡¯ll run and we¡¯ll hunt you down. Your fate was sealed the moment you left the Hall.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-70

    ¡°You want me to believe that dozens of hunters came here just to kill my family?¡± I ask slowly, disbelief evident in every word. I refuse to believe it. Not even nobles would go so far. The Tomes hated the Grimoires, and they us, but neither family would mindlessly throw themselves onto swords for their vengeance.

    ¡°Do you know how manabeasts are fought?¡± the hunter says, a distinct note of superiority in his voice. ¡°The true threats, not the snowcats in the odd cellar or the boulder hawks that snatch lambs and pigs. The real monsters, the dangerous ones. The ones who can tear apart cities. Or the unknown threats, the ones who kill anyone who comes across them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no hunter.¡±

    ¡°No. You¡¯re a spoiled noblewoman born with too many advantages,¡± he sneers. ¡°Let me tell you how it¡¯s done. A few brave souls accompanied by a spotter engage the creature. They most likely die. The spotter returns to the guilds with new information on the monster. Another team is assembled and they attempt to hunt it. If they fail, the spotter makes a report, a new team is formed, and the process repeats over and over until the threat is put down.

    ¡°Measures that aren¡¯t needed so much in these peaceful times but that is the tradition the guilds are built on. When the kingdom was founded and the human armies began to fight each other to determine who would wear the crown, it was the first guilds that beat back the monsters and claimed the land. We¡¯ve shed more blood than any knight order. We do whatever it takes to rid our home of threats. And you, Lourianne Tome, are a threat.¡±

    ¡°You¡­you do understand that this all started with two hunters kidnapping an innocent man for daring to refuse them, don¡¯t you? It¡¯s a little hard to come off as righteous when you¡¯re about to lay down your life for a group of petty criminals.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect someone like you to understand,¡± he scoffs. ¡°And truly, there aren¡¯t many that hold true loyalty to their guilds. Most of my fellows are little more than mercenaries, exchanging duty for honor and gold. They¡¯ll kill you because they¡¯ve been paid to, simple as.¡±

    Ah. That makes a lot more sense. I can even respect that.

    ¡°One last question, before we begin. How much is my head worth?¡±

    ¡°Seven thousand gold crowns along with one medium favor.¡±

    I whistle. That is a lot of money. Now I believe there are dozens of casters here to kill me. Saints, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if there¡¯s more than hunters here. Anyone who heard of such a bounty would jump on this wagon.

    ¡°No more stalling.¡± The hunter raises his shield. ¡°Ready yourself.¡±

    ¡°ENOUGH!¡±

    The thundering voice precedes something slamming into the ground between us, throwing up a thick wave of snow. When the flurry settles, it reveals a furious Kalise and a much more sedate Kierra. She smiles at me before turning narrowed eyes to the hunter.

    The bronze barbarian looks between all of us, her sneer worsening. ¡°All of you are disgraces. You!¡± One of her thick fingers points to the shield-bearing hunter. ¡°You take a sacred tradition and try to twist it for petty vengeance. We welcome you into our home, into our battle, and you shit all over us.¡±

    I snicker but cut it off when she whirls on me. ¡°And you? What is this?¡± She waves toward the headless corpse in the snow. ¡°You think you can drop bodies wherever you please? Did it not occur to you that there is a proper place for this?¡±

    ¡°Well¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you had any plans to clean this mess up either, did ya? You were gonna walk off and leave it to the rest of us to clean up your mess, huh?!¡±

    ¡°Kalise.¡± Alana steps forward, ready to defend me. ¡°They leveled a challenge. We couldn¡¯t refuse.¡±

    ¡°You think I don¡¯t know that, you little reckless kitten? Only reason I haven¡¯t knocked your head into the ice.¡±

    ¡°Stay out of this,¡± the hunter says. ¡°Our business is with¡ª"

    I see her eyes glow. When she raises her hand, I know she is about to unleash some spell or other. The hunter notices the same, readying his shield and setting his feet.

    Neither of us are prepared for the brilliant flash of light and deafening sound of her attack. It happens so fast, I don¡¯t have the chance to put down a film. A strange smell fills my nose as I blink dark spots from my vision.

    When they clear, I see a cold-faced Kalise staring at the prone body of the hunter. Steam fills the air as the snow between them and around the hunter has been melted. Beneath the strange smell is also the smell of cooked meat. I can¡¯t hear my would-be opponent¡¯s heat beat.

    What in the name of the saints just happened?

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    ¡°You bastards want a fight? Good!¡± She turns to the remaining three hunters, still reeling from that horrific spell the barbarian unleashed. ¡°Run back to your band and tell them to ready their arms. You¡¯ll get your fight. And don¡¯t you dare try to run or I¡¯ll set the Beasts on you.¡±

    She snarls as they stare at her stupidly. ¡°Well? What are you idiots doing?! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!¡±

    They hurriedly scramble away from her. She scoffs at the display before turning back to Alana. ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready because both of you stupid kittens are going to take responsibility for this embarrassment.¡±

    -

    The air is tense in our room. Alana is tense as a drawn bowstring after cutting our tour short so she can strategize how to handle the conversation with her family. Mainly, how to pin the blame on her brother.

    While she grumbles to herself about Victory politics, I decide to collect some information. Rather than send Bell to scour minds, not just because the hunters may actually be prepared for such, I have her send a message instead. Time to reap a seed previously sown.

    I sneak from the house and slip around to the back of the nearby stables. I lean against the sturdy wall, occasionally brushing off snow from my head and shoulders, until someone comes jogging toward me. I straighten up as I recognize the pirate-son, despite most of him being covered against the snow. ¡°Took you long enough.¡±

    ¡°Did you know they make the outsiders sleep right in front of the north gate? We¡¯re the first ones that get hit if the monsters get through.¡± He rubs his gloved hands together. ¡°Besides, I had to slip away without being conspicuous. Unless we¡¯re done playing pretend?¡±

    Several days before I left, Arthur came to, I¡¯m not quite sure. Swear fealty? Become my minion? Essentially, he wants to make himself useful in return for my favor, in hopes he can turn the glory of his false life into a reality.

    While struggling to come up with something for the pirate-son to do, Geneva gave me a lovely idea. My succubi are masters at gathering information but they are severely limited by the restraint that is my desire for them to remain near me. There are things they miss until circumstances, or enemies, are right on top of me. A weakness that could be eliminated by having someone dedicated to the role.

    Arthur didn¡¯t have anything else to do and wanted to make himself useful, so he got the job. I sent him into the city with some gold to buy a few hunters some drinks in hopes they¡¯d spill their woes and their plans. When he found out some of the more vocally angry of the lot were headed north, I told him to tag along. He was meant to be an extra layer of defense, as Geneva would have sensed him if his group tried to ambush us.

    If nothing happened, we would collect him before we marched past the Peaks. But something did happen.

    ¡°So, how come you didn¡¯t feel the need to tell me that the hunters were planning to kill me?¡± I ask, doing nothing to hide how annoyed I am.

    ¡°I was getting more information.¡± He moves to lean against the wall beside me. ¡°All the outsiders are placed together. First night, someone comes around and invites us to have a drink. Hosted by some bloater fish looking bastard named Emberton from the Shadow Wolves. He made sure everyone knew who you were and that you were coming. Might has well have been throwing meat to sharks.

    ¡°He hosts his little welcoming parties every night, making sure everyone is good and angry with you. The original plan was to give the James an ultimatum to drive you out of Victory. They¡¯ve got people waiting on the road.¡±

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t they attack me on the way here?¡±

    ¡°Cause that¡¯s when you¡¯d be expecting it.¡± Crafty bastards. It wouldn¡¯t have worked. If Kierra didn¡¯t sniff them out, Geneva would have. A good tactic though, if a bit simple. Am I¡­disappointed? Yeah, I think I am. I expect more from seasoned manabeast hunters.

    ¡°I only found out about this last night when this Emberton tells all the hunters gathered about it. They¡¯re not happy with the duke and his family, heh.¡±

    ¡°Is that supposed to be a joke?¡± I scoff. ¡°What are they going to do in the seat of his power? I dare one of them to say one wrong word about that family.¡± Knowing the fanatics in this place, they¡¯d probably be dead before their mouths could close. Okay, that might be too much. But I can see a random knight breaking their jaw for the offense.

    ¡°Anyway, when we¡¯re all good and drunk, some leatherback looking bastard comes stomping into the camp with a crew of blue armors. Emberton does his best impression of a sucker fish on this guy¡¯s ass so I assume he¡¯s important. He is. Zachariah Erenheart James. The next duke of Victory apparently.¡±

    ¡°Baseless rumor. Don¡¯t go spreading that horseshit.¡±

    He glances at me sideways. ¡°Aye. Anyway, the not-so-little lord insults all the hunters back three generations. Tells them they¡¯re a bunch of cowards and he thinks they¡¯re worthless. That he¡¯d rather take the girl they¡¯re so afraid of.

    ¡°Our friends are very excited about that. Practically foaming at the mouth. One of the idiots even attacked him. Didn¡¯t end well. Emberton all but says he¡¯d kill you if given the chance so the lord gives him one. Little duke laughs and walks away. But then one of his people teaches us how to challenge someone, Victory¡¯s style. If we say them, you can¡¯t refuse a fight. Then he tells us to handle our grudges before the campaign or Victory will kick all our asses.

    ¡°So, now we have a way to force you to fight but it¡¯s a one-on-one duel. The hunters are little fish, swimming together. You killed a bunch of hunters. You¡¯re a summoner. None of them like their chances in a fair fight. Then this Emberton comes up with something crazy. Gets some of the most extreme guys to volunteer to fight you first and learn your abilities. The cowards get to watch and report back to the strongest hunters and a few mercenaries in it for the bounty he put on your head. It¡¯s pretty good.¡±

    ¡°At least I¡¯m worth some good gold.¡±

    ¡°Eh. I¡¯ve seen bigger bounties.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a competition.¡±

    ¡°It is in Graywatch, captain.¡±

    ¡°Do you have anything else to tell me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the names of the hunters they¡¯re expecting to finish you off. I was trying to find who Emberton was trying to rope into taking on that elf but it¡¯s a touchy subject. They know about her pure affinity and it¡¯s common knowledge she¡¯s the one who killed the guildmaster. They¡¯re not eager for that kind of fight, even for seven thousand crowns.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Alright, you haven¡¯t been completely useless.¡± I clap him on the shoulder. ¡°Good work.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain. Got any Herbanacle to spare? It¡¯ll go a long way to keeping me in the know.¡±

    ¡°You want to stay?¡±

    He scoffs. ¡°Not like I¡¯m in any danger. No one¡¯s going to connect me to you, especially not with what I got between my legs.¡± He chuckles. ¡°Sides, the quicker you stomp these idiots, the quicker I get in a room with decent heat and food. Travel rations are disgusting.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Better get back to it. I¡¯ll send Bell with some supplies,¡± I call over my shoulder as I walk off. ¡°Give her the names.¡±

    ¡°Aye.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-71

    I thought the dinner table was tense before but it can¡¯t be compared to the heavy air weighing down the room as Alana and I take our seats. Two more places are filled. Yulia has joined us but she doesn¡¯t look happy about it, lovely face slightly pale as she sits with her shoulders hunched and her hands in her lap beside her brother. She doesn¡¯t look up as we walk in.

    The second new face is somewhat recognizable. Not his features. The wide nose, short blonde hair, thick lips, and dark eyes don¡¯t spark any recognition but his manner does. His finery and his perfectly crafted smile are very familiar. This is a man comfortable in the realm of politicking. He anticipates a war of words and likes his chances. Unlike the rest of the table, he does look up as the three of us enter. His smile remains in place but it doesn¡¯t reach his eyes.

    The sound of the servants serving dinner somehow brings to mind sharp-eyed brigands sharpening swords. Everyone ignores the small bowls of soup before them as Kalise stands. From the muted surprise on Eleanor¡¯s face, I take it this is not a usual occurrence.

    ¡°Alright, listen up, all ya! Some of you have been playing games. I don¡¯t know what was slipped into the water to make heirs of Victory suddenly go simple but since you two¡ª" She pauses to point her cup of wine at Zachariah and Alana in turn, ¡°¡ªwant to act like squabbling children, I¡¯ll play mama cat and shovel your shit.¡±

    She takes a long drink of her wine before slamming the cup down. ¡°Ancestors, this stuff tastes like rotten garbage now. To the point. You!¡± She points to me. ¡°You killed a man on my grass. Er, snow. Abyss cursed snow. Sit down!¡±

    Alana flinches at the shout and reverses her attempt to stand.

    ¡°What sunshine kitten wants to yowl about is the fact that the corpse coloring the snow with his blood challenged her bannerwoman. Which gave you every right to knock his head off. But just because you have the right, doesn¡¯t mean you have to shower blood wherever you please. We built a killing field, just for this. You couldn¡¯t walk a few strides and do the thing properly? Huh? Are you the children of an ancestors blessed high noble or feckin animals?!¡±

    Alana doesn¡¯t hang her head despite the scolding. She maintains a stoic frown as she tonelessly says, ¡°I understand my failing. It won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Damn right it won¡¯t. Because we¡¯re about to get this all settled. Starting with you.¡± Her dark eyes move to Zachariah. ¡°Someone taught those outsiders a sacred tradition. Don¡¯t insult yourself and this family by making me ask. Stand and explain yourself.¡±

    The favored heir stands, appearing unbothered by being called upon. ¡°The hunters threatened to leave lest we exile Alana¡¯s bannerwoman. The elf declared her house worth more than all of them. I decided to let them prove the validity of those words. If they won the challenges, they are of greater worth to Victory and I would have dismissed the hunters. If they lost, the problem would have solved itself. I personally hoped for the hunters to realize how stupid they were being after a couple of deaths. The campaign needs as many bodies as it can get.¡±

    Kalise tsked then looked to her husband. The whole table looks toward the duke, slowly spooning soup. After two swallows, he speaks. ¡°Accepted.¡± He turns his cold blue eyes to his son. ¡°Yet sloppy. You are not a simple knight of Victory. You may be its leader one day. Appearance matters as much as results. Reflect.¡±

    ¡°You get that, you reckless, stoneheaded fool?¡±

    Zachariah grits his teeth.

    ¡°Zachariah,¡± his mother says tersely.

    The tension in his features relaxes. ¡°I see my failing.¡±

    ¡°Do you?¡± his father asks. But before his son can answer, he commands, ¡°Sit.¡± Once he does, he nods toward Kalise, a silent command to continue.

    ¡°Your word¡¯s not worth much here but you¡¯re here to make sure there¡¯s no confusion. Go on. Tell your side.¡±

    The pudgy, well-dressed man who reeks of capital hobnobbing hesitates, clearly unused to the blunt way of discussion in the James family, but takes his cue to stand quick enough. He clears his throat. ¡°Thank you for inviting me into your home, Your Grace.¡± He bows his head toward the duke. ¡°I apologize if we have offended you or your house in any way. Unfortunately, circumstances¡ª"

    ¡°We gave you the right to speak at our table,¡± Eleanor interrupts, her voice softer than his own but cutting through the man¡¯s words like a sword through soft flesh. ¡°Not waste our time.¡±

    He pauses, gauging the room. Then his next words come twice as fast. ¡°Lourianne Tome and her family have committed unforgivable acts against the guilds. They have been labeled a threat. We do not stop until threats are put down.¡±

    Kalise snorts. ¡°Don¡¯t joke. Quest doesn¡¯t have vows of blood. This is your last chance. Can the guilds only be pacified with death?¡±

    The man stiffens. Then slowly, almost reluctantly, he says, ¡°Conflicts have also been settled through appropriate compensation but I cannot fathom what a low noble could offer to erase the loss of a guildmaster and multiple hunters.¡±

    ¡°Well you won¡¯t know without asking, will you?¡± The barbarian shakes her head. ¡°There you have it, Greenie. You and that cocky cat. Last chance. You can handle this without blood.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Kierra¡¯s chuckle is soft and filled with dark humor. ¡°Oh, but I enjoy bloodshed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not paying a bunch of petty criminals a crown,¡± I add.

    The man, the representative of the hunters, opens his mouth to respond but Kalise slaps a thigh and speaks over him. ¡°Good! I would have been ruffled if you stoneheads made all this fuss then stepped back like a bunch of cowards. What started in blood ends in blood.¡± She looks to the duke and he nods. She smiles big and wide.

    ¡°Then there¡¯s only one way to settle this. A March.¡±

    ¡°Kalise!¡± Alana shouts, jumping to her feet. ¡°You cannot be serious!¡±

    ¡°Sit down.¡±

    Alana stiffens under her father¡¯s command. Her face is full of confliction but she sits, hands balled into fists.

    ¡°Explain what a March is to your bannerwoman.¡±

    I take a deep breath as Alana turns toward me and remind myself that her family is off-limits. ¡°A March to the Ancestors is¡­another form of the right of challenge. It encompasses entire houses or orders rather than individuals. The same rules apply. It is war, to the last man. The winner claims everything of the loser. There is no retreat. There is no mercy.¡±

    There is a small lapse in conversation as another course is served. The barbarian continues to ignore her food. ¡°The challengers are the hunters of Quest!¡± Kalise says, her voice rising with excitement. ¡°The defenders are the Tome clan. This is how this is going to work. In three days, your groups will meet each other in the killing field¡ª"

    ¡°Please call it by its proper name,¡± Eleanor interrupts.

    ¡°Fecking¡­your groups will meet at the Witness Circle. You will fight, drowning rules. For all of you that don¡¯t know what that means, I¡¯ll explain. Each side picks a champion. They fight. The loser is tossed from the field and their clan picks a new champion. The winner decides if they want to fight again or elects another fighter from their clan to take their place. Again and again, until only one clan remains.¡± Her smile turns feral. ¡°Until one side is drowned in death.¡±

    The representative from the hunters looks disturbed but quickly says, ¡°We are happy to oblige these rules.¡± And why wouldn¡¯t he be? They have over a hundred potential fighters. If half of them commit to this slog, they¡¯ll have ten times our number, even if I count Bell and Geneva as separate fighters. The bastard has the audacity to smile at me.

    Alana looks ready to explode. I¡¯m amazed she manages to speak with an even tone. ¡°This is ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°This is the path your bannerwoman and her clan has chosen,¡± Kalise counters.

    ¡°Well, they aren¡¯t getting much choice, are they?¡±

    ¡°Alana.¡±

    ¡°No, Father.¡± I smother a smile as she gets to her feet. ¡°This is utterly ridiculous. My brother manipulates the laws of Victory to smother my forces and you reward this by making my people fight an army? At the very least, concessions need to be made or this is no challenge, but an execution.¡±

    ¡°You speak out of turn,¡± Eleanor says.

    Alana¡¯s smooth features scrunch up in an impressive sneer. ¡°Fuck you.¡±

    I almost applaud. Or laugh. Eleanor¡¯s muted surprise and her son¡¯s much more obvious shock are hilarious. Yulia, who has been doing her best to go unnoticed, looks up, mouth gaping. Kierra doesn¡¯t hold back, snickering quietly. Kalise is even less reserved, guffawing loudly. She holds the back of her chair to keep upright as she doubles over with laughter.

    ¡°Your stance has been made,¡± Duke James says, showing no sign that her outburst upset him. ¡°There will be no concessions. Your bannerwoman did not have to fight. You could have petitioned me to judge the validity of the challenge. Instead, you spilled blood. Blood demands blood. You will see your decision through to the end or you will accept the consequences if you don¡¯t.¡±

    Alana looks ready to stab someone but she sits down. I grab her hand and massage her palm. Her vicious frown eases a fraction but it doesn¡¯t disappear.

    Kalise wipes her teary eyes with a finger. ¡°Looks like the Hall sharpened the youngest kitten¡¯s claws.¡± Her smile fades. ¡°But no, there will be no concessions. The risk is great but so is the reward, like all things. Wait to hear the rest before you throw a fit.¡±

    My future saint is far from mollified but she relaxes, indicating that she¡¯s listening.

    ¡°Since both groups used our tradition without bothering to understand it, let me make what¡¯s going to happen as clear as a creek.¡± She points at the hunter. ¡°When someone pledges to a banner, they renounce their family to join the family under their bannerlord, or in this case, bannerlady. That means the rest of the Tomes aren¡¯t involved in this. If you win, the guilds are entitled to everything she owns and this will be enforced by Victory. Ah, don¡¯t get any ideas about Greenie over there. She married into the Tome family so you have no claim on her previous clan.¡±

    ¡°It would have been delightful to watch you try,¡± Kierra adds.

    The hunter is too proper to scoff but I can tell he wants to. ¡°We aren¡¯t interested in her possessions, only in justice.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I should point out something obvious. You don¡¯t have any claim on the James¡¯ assets, despite the Tome girl being pledged to her, but Alana does wager all of her personal wealth. Can¡¯t have James losing their lives on random challenges. That is what you get if you win.

    ¡°Should the Tome clan win, then the opposite applies. Your guild is your clan. Therefore, if any fighter from a guild participates, the Tome clan will own everything of that guild.¡±

    The hunter sputters. I can¡¯t blame him. I¡¯m just as surprised. ¡°What?! That is¡­you cannot be serious!¡±

    It¡¯s Kalise¡¯s turn to sneer. ¡°Did you think those words you spoke were a joke? You are the ones who thoughtlessly used traditions you don¡¯t understand. You wagered everything you are. This mess is all because of the bond between a hunter and a guild. You¡¯ve made it clear that one of you is all of you. So, you wagered your guild. We will enforce the resolution of the challenge, with force.¡±

    If I understand this right, if we fight all these hunters and win, we are entitled to everything owned by any guild that participates. Not only that, Victory will enforce this. She¡¯s saying they will march on Quest. Saints protect us, I foresee that causing so many catastrophic problems, the thought is a little sickening. And so very exciting. At the very least, that is a lot of wealth.

    ¡°I¡­I cannot agree to this.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter? You outnumber them fifty to one and you¡¯re scared?¡±

    ¡°This has nothing to do with fear! I can¡¯t accept a bargain like this, for any reason. I don¡¯t have the authority.¡±

    ¡°Too bad, because you already have. Teach you to feck around with sacred rites. The challenge has been issued. Either you follow through and drown your enemies in blood, theirs or yours heh, or you run away and the guilds will forever be banned from Victory.¡± Her eyes move to me. ¡°Same to you. You can run but you can never come back. Three days. Make your choice.¡±

    Though her voice has no room for argument, she is not the lord of Victory. All eyes turn to the duke. There is desperation, disbelief, resignation, and anticipation in our many gazes. None of it is reflected in his blank expression. There is a heavy beat of silence before he seals the fate of hundreds of people. ¡°Accepted.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-72

    ¡°Your family is insane.¡±

    The rest of dinner passes quickly. The hunters¡¯ representative, who I learn is the fabled Emberton, spends several minutes trying to dissuade the duke and his wife from their decision. He may as well be talking to blocks of ice. They don¡¯t bend, they don¡¯t break, and they certainly don¡¯t compromise.

    Afterwards, the meal finishes quickly. There has to be other things to discuss but they lose importance in the face of the dragon of a decision spearheaded by the barbarian.

    Alana¡¯s expression has not improved since dinner. Since returning to her room, she has done nothing but stand before her mounted sword, brooding. Kierra and I are the opposite of her tense form, sprawled out on her bed. That doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re not taking this seriously. Well, I am. My savage of a wife is positively thrilled, her excitement for the coming slaughter plain as day.

    After several minutes staring at the mounted weapon, Alana turns to us, her gaze imminently serious. ¡°Send your succubi to make sure no one is listening in on us.¡±

    A thought is all it takes.

    ¡°Rolly, show yourself. No games.¡±

    With a flash of light, the lueorale appears, gently floating down until she is standing on my stomach. She flashes a bright silver. From observation, I recognize the color as representing seriousness, or perhaps sincerity. It¡¯s often donned during conversations of importance.

    ¡°This is not the time for exaggeration or bragging. Stuff your ego in a box, both of you, and tell me honestly¡­do you think you can win?¡±

    An honest answer? ¡°If we go all out¡­yes.¡±

    She turns to Kierra, who chuckles. ¡°My little conqueror speaks the truth though she is loathed to expose her secrets.¡±

    Alana nods. ¡°Then you need to tell me whatever it is you¡¯re holding back because seven affinities is not enough to make you, or anyone else, that confident against so many opponents of unknown ability.¡±

    I stiffen as her eyes bore into me. Just like that? ¡°I, uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Lou. We¡¯ve been through this. Unless you are doing something horrific like sacrificing infants to the elementals you consort with, it doesn¡¯t matter to me. I love you. You love me. Get to it.¡±

    She has gotten so much more comfortable with us. Or maybe her brazenness is being fueled by the desperation she¡¯s trying to pretend she doesn¡¯t feel. I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then, I relax.

    My fleshly form reverts to my normal oozey self. Rolly lets out an undignified squawk, flying up and off me. ¡°What in the seven heavens is this?!¡± she yells, flashing a bright yellow. ¡°You¡­you¡­¡±

    Opposite to her outburst, Alana is quiet. Very quiet. ¡°What does this mean?¡±

    ¡°Lou cannot speak for herself like this so allow me.¡± Kierra sits up, pulling a good bit of me into her lap and stroking my surface. ¡°When she lay dying as a result of the man who kidnapped her, the elemental he summoned saved her life. In order to do so, it used a piece of itself.¡±

    ¡°A piece? So, Lou is half human, half¡­whatever that is?¡±

    I form a limb of ooze and bob it up and down in a semblance of a nod. That¡¯s my best guess, though now, I¡¯d debate the half and half. There¡¯s more ooze than woman, I think.

    ¡°And¡­what is it?¡±

    ¡°We do not know. Part of the reason we are interested in the Hall is to delve the records of their Summoning Hall to see if we can find any clues.¡±

    ¡°What do you know?¡±

    ¡°We know she has gained six affinities and suspect her body may hold the other two.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°We also know that her form facilitates the changing of the body. She can transform without a spell, through simple instinct. If there was a pure affinity specifically for the art of shapeshifting, I would describe it as such.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Also, whenever she transforms into a new state, it is a pristine version of that state. It allows her to heal from any injury and physical exhaustion instantaneously.¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°All of this is done using her ooze, as she likes to call it. It appears to fuel her shapeshifting ability. We are still investigating it but the pets have described it as solidified mana. As long as she has ooze, she can transform without pause or complication. She can also condense her ooze. If she were to expand completely, I imagine she¡¯d take up all the empty space in this house. Perhaps that would not be enough.¡±

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Her ooze is also magic resistant.¡±

    ¡°Oh, for the love of¡ª" Alana catches herself. ¡°No, later. Continue.¡±

    ¡°Throughout the initiate year, I have been purchasing multiple manabeasts from the Guiness Company. While she has not practiced with them, Lou has a vast array of forms to draw upon. One to counter any type of magic, I am sure. Though such a display would raise a lot of questions.¡±

    ¡°Anything else?¡± Alana asks after a long pause.

    ¡°Oh, one final thing. The forms she uses functions as shells, as opposed to replacing her true body. Quite a mystery. The important thing is that no damage to the shell can kill her. Not having her heart pierced, her head smashed, or her whole body shredded. We have no idea what can permanently harm her besides consuming too much of her ooze.¡±

    Alana nods once, sharply. ¡°If all that is true¡­¡± For the first time, her frown eases. Her smile is devious and heart-stopping. ¡°No wonder you two are so relaxed. Saints witness, we have a chance¡­no. We have an overwhelming advantage. An unstoppable, unkillable fighter with the physical prowess to rival a master caster.¡±

    I revert to my prime form and have a good stretch. Kierra continues stroking me, trading ooze for smooth skin. ¡°The problem is, if we do this, people are going to want answers. The capital lost its mind over the vague possibilities of what Kierra can offer.¡±

    Her foreignness and lack of tangible proof of profit kept them on their leashes, their attention limited to probes for more information. ¡°If I demonstrate the ability to demolish two hundred hunters, people are going to have questions. And they¡¯ll ask them. Aggressively.¡±

    ¡°Victory is tight. Information doesn¡¯t leave the fort easily. Zachariah may think to screw us over by sharing secrets, maybe. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯d compromise a valuable asset to the war for personal gain. That is, if you¡¯re comfortable taking the risk.¡±

    Her enthusiasm wanes as she gauges how comfortable I am exposing my secrets. I¡¯d be lying if I said I didn¡¯t care. Somewhere deep inside, there is still the shadow of the old Lou, a no-name noblewoman with small prospects and smaller expectations. Who grew up being constantly reminded how much better every other noble house was. Who learned to fear those in power, as all it would take was annoying the Grimoires to end the Tome bloodline.

    But I¡­I¡¯ve changed. I would dare say I¡¯ve grown. Perhaps grown beyond confidence into the realm of arrogance because I don¡¯t have that fear anymore.

    Hearing Kierra¡¯s summation then talking about fighting two-hundred hunters and concluding it¡¯s not only possible but trivial, I have a new appreciation for my abilities. Geneva¡¯s been worming her way into the capital. I have Kierra¡¯s family behind me. I¡­can trust that. Just like a contracted elemental, all my advantages are nothing if I am too afraid to use them.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it. For you. For us.¡±

    And her smile returns.

    ¡°The succubi should be guarding us at all times. Therefore, Rolly. I need you to gather information on the opposition.¡±

    ¡°If we stick together, Geneva can protect us both. She should work together with Bell.¡±

    Alana scowls. ¡°There¡¯ll be no time to sleep. My brother wouldn¡¯t sink so low as to sabotage us but I can see him allowing opportunities for the hunters to do so. She and Bell should work in shifts.¡±

    Isn¡¯t that the same thing? ¡°Geneva doesn¡¯t need sleep.¡±

    ¡°¡­right. Not a thrall.¡±

    ¡°A thrall could stay up all night and day if needed too. Their vaguely human forms are a misconception. They are not human. They don¡¯t have our weaknesses.¡±

    ¡°¡­do they have any weaknesses?¡±

    ¡°Their summoners.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Which isn¡¯t a weakness at all with you. I¡¯m beginning to think summoning isn¡¯t fair.¡±

    ¡°Well, usually people with my talent don¡¯t go looking for help in another realm. I inherited strength but stuck to what I know. You¡¯re not going to find someone like Mr. Talented drawing summoning circles.¡±

    ¡°I see your point. This works out very well for us. With Geneva and Bell to provide support, I don¡¯t see anyone as your equal.¡±

    ¡°They will not be the only ones fighting.¡± I yelp as Kierra pokes a ticklish spot. ¡°I will be very upset if you leave no prey for me.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±

    ¡°Everything the guilds own¡­¡± I don¡¯t think Alana is greedy but even she is salivating at the thought of such a hoard. ¡°It will rain shit and chaos if Victory marches on Quest but my father will do it. And Zach, who started all this with his reckless behavior, is going to get the blame for losing the hunters for the foreseeable future and for igniting a war. He¡¯ll be lucky if he isn¡¯t forced to live past the Peaks until he can bring back the head of a winter lord.¡±

    ¡°Why did he do it?¡± I ask, squirming away from Kierra¡¯s wandering hands. ¡°I¡­I guess I expect more from your father¡¯s apparent heir.¡±

    My future wife looks at me like I¡¯m simple. ¡°Lou, he had a good plan. Normally, two hundred hunters are always worth more than a caster and a summoner.¡± She nods toward Kierra. ¡°How could he expect someone to brazenly stand up and declare otherwise? He couldn¡¯t even refute the claim as Kierra leveraged her ¡®culture¡¯ to prevent a duel.¡±

    I chuckle as I recall her so-called traditions¡­still might not be a joke.

    ¡°He could have left it there but what if Kierra really could deliver on her bravado? I imagine I made him uneasy with my brazen attitude and there were the rumors of what happened in Quest, no doubt greatly exaggerated. He needed a way to test our ability but he couldn¡¯t do it directly.

    ¡°So, he tells the hunters about the right of challenge, knowing you can¡¯t refuse.¡± She sighs. ¡°I might have¡­reacted hastily, urging to fight. Father is right. They were outsiders. I knew something was wrong. I could have gone to him, asked him to intervene. But there are people who would have taken that for weakness. He certainly would have presented it that way.

    ¡°For the longest time, I¡¯ve hated the idea of being seen as inferior to the other children. My legitimate siblings.¡± She clicks her tongue. ¡°I think he anticipated that I would jump at any fight and no matter how it goes, he gets some benefit. If you¡¯re weak, the hunters get rid of you. If you¡¯re strong, he knows what you can do. It¡¯s a win-win.¡±

    ¡°But if backfired with this March thing.¡±

    ¡°Did it? I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he anticipated something like this too. At least, with his mother behind him. Neither he nor Eleanor reacted when they heard Kalise¡¯s idea. He didn¡¯t object. He always reacts when he¡¯s upset but when he¡¯s pleased, he tries to hide it.

    ¡°You don¡¯t grasp it because you¡¯re you, but for anyone else, this is a death sentence. Zach thinks this is a death sentence. He, no. No one can fathom the possibility that we are going to win. Kalise¡­I think she has an inkling how capable Kierra is but she¡¯s just anticipating a good show, not for us to win. I didn¡¯t think we could win. Your abilities are¡­incomprehensible. Especially what you¡¯ve revealed today.¡±

    She smiles sweetly. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see Zach¡¯s face when he realizes just how badly he¡¯s screwed.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-73

    ¡°My lord.¡±

    Inside the training building attached to the main house, Zachariah paused in his morning practice, lowering his wooden sword. His preferred weapon was a large warhammer that he used his prodigious strength, aided by the best melders in the north, to swing around with the same ease a child swung a stick, but the sword was the nobleman¡¯s weapon. It had history and tradition behind it. Victory valued tradition.

    He bowed to his family¡¯s banner before turning toward the door. Jude, his first bannerman and childhood friend, stood with his mouth pressed into a grim frown. He never was an attractive man. His small eyes didn¡¯t complement his wide nose and his lips were too pale. The multitude of scars he¡¯d accumulated from a lifetime of campaigns and boisterous weekends in the Witness Circle, didn¡¯t help. He had a face made for giving bad news, which is why his bannermen sent Jude to deliver it.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Ollivan has concerns.¡± Ollie was Zach¡¯s second bannerman. When he had grown out of the teenage zeal of wanting to conquer the north, like every other Victory man, he accepted he¡¯d need people with brains as well as brawn if he wanted to guide Victory to a better future. Ollie wasn¡¯t the best fighter but he had a head for tactics and numbers. ¡°The March is tomorrow and things aren¡¯t going as planned.¡±

    ¡°The hunters do a runner?¡±

    ¡°No. As expected, running from two women and their pets is too much for their pride. Not to mention the money. Emberton has doubled the bounty, promising to pay it directly if his guild doesn¡¯t honor it.¡±

    ¡°How did the investigation into their abilities go?¡±

    ¡°We got a message from Quest.¡± Jude stepped forward. He handed over a rolled piece of paper. ¡°Lourianne Tome is a summoner with two contracted succubi, a thrall and an incompetent imp. She also has one confirmed affinity, fire.¡±

    ¡°So her strength is the result of her wife.¡±

    ¡°If she does have a physical affinity, it is well hidden. Marquis Guiness sponsored her to the Hall and all he mentioned was a fire affinity.¡±

    ¡°Ancestors know he would have investigated thoroughly. If all he found was fire, then that means everyone in that woman¡¯s family is a vault to keep such a thing secret or they don¡¯t know at all and Lourianne Tome was a master schemer from about the age of five.¡±

    Jude scoffed. ¡°We know how few men can keep a secret under real pressure. Besides, southerners are all about showing off. Her family would have held her up for all to see, singing her praises.¡±

    ¡°And the girl doesn¡¯t seem the scheming type,¡± Zach continued. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d say she¡¯s rather simple. From what the servants say, Alana doesn¡¯t value her bannerwoman for her mind.¡± His youngest sister had certainly grown bold. Perhaps reckless, a word he¡¯d never thought he would ever apply to the serious girl who walked lightly around their father. ¡°It¡¯s safe to conclude she has a fire affinity and a highly melded body. I see we didn¡¯t get any further into that.¡±

    ¡°The elf appears to have done all the work herself. Didn¡¯t consult a single melder.¡±

    ¡°The question is, did she need to?¡± The elf was by far the most complicated factor. Zach had no idea about her origins, ideology, or abilities. Scouring the oldest records in his family¡¯s library, a scant few containing accounts from the Great War, revealed what a pure affinity was but not the extent of its capabilities. That seemed to be the point. There was nothing they couldn¡¯t do, within the realm of the affinity.

    Jude grunted. ¡°Assume the worst, fight for better.¡±

    ¡°Assuming the worst, how far do think a pure affinity could meld someone in a year?¡±

    ¡°Leaning toward the extreme, I¡¯d wager she¡¯s as strong as you.¡±

    Zach wanted to scoff but held himself back. It was hard to imagine that a woman could match his strength, as he had been guided by the best melder in Victory since he was a boy, sculpting him to the peak of human physicality, but this was a pure affinity. They were the subject of legends and myths for a reason. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, she can take the average hunter with nothing more than her bare hands and has a fair bit of stamina. But she¡¯s only an acolyte.¡±

    ¡°No one had anything to say about her casting. From the rumors, she spent her time at the Hall playing with women.¡±

    Zach frowned. His efforts to discredit and break down Alana was nothing personal. He didn¡¯t see her as real competition. He couldn¡¯t, not when every time he saw her face he remembered the skinny brat when she was first welcomed into the house, dirty and shaking before the rest of the James. But, if she was sullying their house entertaining a silly, hedonistic southern noble¡­well, it would become personal.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°The true threat is the elementals. She appears to be a competent summoner. The abilities of succubi are noted here.¡±

    ¡°¡­ancestors. Every one of these things have the mental affinity. Get the Moons to hand out a couple artifacts.¡±

    ¡°Already thought to. The Devil is having none of it. I hear he¡¯s standing in front of their armory, glaring at anyone who enters and searching those who leave.¡±

    Zach swore. ¡°Damn my sister. She pretends she doesn¡¯t care about the title and then she does something like this.¡±

    ¡°Yulia¡¯s always had a soft spot for Alana.¡±

    Zach didn¡¯t stop himself from scoffing at that misguided comment. His sister was a snake. Most reptiles couldn¡¯t survive the cold but she wore the skin of a warm-hearted bunny to survive. It was the perfect disguise. No one was ever prepared for her fangs.

    ¡°Yulia acts for Yulia. If she really cared for Alana, she would convince her to leave. Victory has never been the place for her.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a James.¡±

    ¡°The James are leaders, the best of the best,¡± Zach snapped. ¡°My mother is a former knight, from a line of famous knights. Kalise may be an animal but she is powerful. The James are sired from the best, trained by the best, and given the best resources. Alana is my father¡¯s bastard with a common whore.

    ¡°While we were training, she was shoveling blackrock and sweeping trash. She doesn¡¯t have any talent. Father threw her with the commoners, but instead of getting the message, she latched onto his momentary lapse of judgment and refused to leave. Eren¡¯s death made Father soft so he brought a lost dog with a shiny affinity into the house but no, she is not a James.¡±

    Jude grunted. ¡°You¡¯re a mountain of kindness, my lord.¡±

    ¡°If she needs warmth, she should stay out of the north.¡± Zach forced himself to take a deep breath, calming his emotions. His quick temper was one of his biggest flaws. Rational decisions needed a cool head. ¡°The mental affinity is weak against enemies stronger than the caster. Make sure the guilds know not to bother with anyone whose coefficient is under three hundred. Or at the very least, make sure they know they¡¯re fodder. How is the war of the heart going?¡±

    A battle was more than how many soldiers could be fielded, the state of their equipment, or knowledge of the terrain. All those things were important but completely irrelevant without heart. If a man wasn¡¯t ready to fight, if he didn¡¯t believe in victory, he may as well lie down and wait to die. The result would be the same.

    ¡°¡­we are losing ground.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Zach looked at his bannerman harshly. ¡°Are you telling me we can¡¯t frighten a couple women who¡¯ve never seen the horrors beyond those mountains? What are you doing man?¡±

    Jude grimaced, looking uncomfortable. ¡°We¡¯ve tried, my lord. We¡¯ve tried poisoning the food but it doesn¡¯t take. People sent to mess up the room are always caught. People sent to investigate their supplies are always caught. The servants we asked to deliver ¡®friendly warnings¡¯ are mocked in the halls.¡±

    ¡°¡­they¡¯re prepared then.¡±

    ¡°It gets worse. They¡¯ve been launching their own heart attacks. The bannerwoman delivered three large casks of liquor to the hunters today, saying their final drink should be something decent. The elf has been spotted around the fort singing about fleshing and hanging skulls. The thrall has been going around, recording names, to ¡®make collecting the winnings¡¯ easier.¡±

    Zach couldn¡¯t help his smile. ¡°Hah! A shame. If only they hadn¡¯t sworn themselves to a waste.¡± Confidence like that couldn¡¯t be faked. Against all the odds, Lourianne Tome and her wife thought they could win. If they managed to put a shadow of death over their opponents, they could.

    It was the kind of slightly insane mentality that produced the best knights, the ones who survived campaign after campaign and managed to retire. ¡°I take it the hunters are shitting themselves?¡±

    ¡°They are uneasy at the thought of single combat. Most hunters fight in teams. And the tale of the bannerwoman knocking a man¡¯s head off is making the rounds.¡±

    Zach didn¡¯t understand. They had come to the north to fight in a war that had lasted for generations and claimed thousands. The monsters could do far worse than take a man¡¯s head off. ¡°How bad is it?¡±

    ¡°Only the weak have been scared off. The stronger fighters have too much experience to be affected by tactics. Not a great loss but that means there is less fodder to tire them out. Emberton has managed to rally plenty. This is no longer about money. The guild¡¯s honor is on the line and we know what men will do for honor.¡±

    ¡°Final count?¡±

    ¡°Fifty-six hunters are going to fight and they¡¯ve managed to secure two mercenaries as last-ditch efforts.¡±

    ¡°Strength?¡±

    ¡°Guild ranks their members with metals. Copper is fodder. Bronze is about the same as our basic trainees. Silver is a weaker knight. Gold is a decent knight. Beyond that, they are known individually. They have fifteen bronze, twenty-four silver, seven gold, and ten named hunters.¡±

    ¡°More than I expected.¡±

    ¡°The bronzes and silvers are older hunters that¡¯ve reached their peaks and are willing to die for a tidy sum to their families. The golds are in it for the bounties and think it¡¯ll be easy once it gets to them. The named hunters committed as Emberton made it clear he¡¯d spread the fact if they refused. It wouldn¡¯t do much for their reputations if it was known they ran from a fight with overwhelming odds in their favor.¡±

    ¡°Then everything is in hand. Suppose I should have a talk with Alana.¡± While this March would silence any whispers of the youngest member of the family being considered as a successor, he would much prefer she simply run away, never to return. It would be one less thing for him to worry about and Alana would still have a chance at happiness, if the servants had the right of her relationship with her bannerwoman. But Alana remained stubborn as always. ¡°Think she¡¯ll see me?¡±

    ¡°Not a chance in the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°Heh. Get the fighters something good to eat. And make sure our guest is comfortable.¡± The night his father decreed the March, Emberton had sent a message to Quest via an aptly named messenger hawk, a manabeast bred and trained because of its speed.

    Amazingly, someone had managed to reach Victory with a reply earlier that day. Someone had wanted to make sure their message was delivered. Zach hadn¡¯t expected it but was glad that he left instructions for all outsiders to be detained. He didn¡¯t know what message the runner carried but he couldn¡¯t have the hunters pulling out because the guilds lost their nerve.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be done, my lord.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-74

    The morning of the March, Alana, Kierra, Rolly, my succubi, and myself are seated on Alana¡¯s bed, ready to discuss our strategy for the last time. The average person in our circumstances would probably have their shoulders hunched with tension and deep frowns on their faces. The air isn¡¯t exactly cheery, there¡¯s an undercurrent of tension, but there¡¯s far more excitement. This isn¡¯t a trial so much as it is a demonstration. A show.

    ¡°Are the walls safe?¡± Alana asks.

    Geneva grins. ¡°No one is listening.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then let¡¯s discuss the plan one more time.¡± She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. ¡°Last night, the final count of the enemy was fifty-eight, fifty-six hunters and two independent mercenaries. Their members are spread across three guilds; the Torchbearers, the Shadow Wolves, and One For All. The first two have an obvious grudge. The third is represented by the bronze and copper fodder fighters. I doubt they have any true idea what they¡¯re getting their guild into but that¡¯s a debt for Father to settle.

    ¡°At the moment, their plan is to use the weaker fighters to test our abilities and tire us out. We¡¯re going to counter this by ensuring the no one wants to fight us. If their champions refuse to fight, their numbers become meaningless. Even better, it¡¯ll degrade the mentality of the stronger fighters.¡±

    She pauses and looks toward me. ¡°Lou doesn¡¯t want to be involved in this part.¡± I wince and she grabs my hand, squeezing it quickly to remind me that her words aren¡¯t meant to cause offense. It should be obvious that not wanting to torture a man to horrify a crowd of on-lookers isn¡¯t something to be ashamed of but it¡¯s a little difficult to remember when you¡¯re surrounded by people of a different opinion.

    Even Alana is disturbingly accepting of the strategy. She wouldn¡¯t want to do it herself but she didn¡¯t bat an eye when it was suggested by my smiling succubus. Seriously, there is something really wrong with this place.

    ¡°Therefore, Kierra will be taking the first duel.¡±

    My wife smiles, the harsh sound as she sharpens a small knife on black claws incredibly ominous. ¡°I will show them a fate that will make them slit their own throats rather than face me.¡±

    ¡°¡­great.¡± Ha! Alana isn¡¯t as unaffected as she would want me to believe. ¡°The goal is to force them to submit. If we were fighting soldiers from Victory, surrender wouldn¡¯t be an option but these hunters are going along with this out of a sense of camaraderie. They¡¯re angry and willing to kill but few are willing to die. Especially the named hunters. They were reluctant to agree.¡±

    Strong people that have survived too many battles to think this March an easy battle. They see Kierra as an unknown and their careers fighting manabeasts have taught them that the unknown is far more dangerous than the strong. If it weren¡¯t for the extra money promised to them and the incredibly high stakes, they wouldn¡¯t be bothered. The bronze and silver hunters have already signed on. If they are the only ones to fight, the three guilds they represent are as good as mine.

    ¡°If they surrender, they can escape the worst outcome. Our victory is practically guaranteed but Lou is right that if her true capabilities are revealed, we won¡¯t have an easy life in Harvest. They¡¯d never leave you alone. Ever.¡±

    I sigh. I¡¯m glad to finally have someone understand my worry. Kierra thinks spies and assassins galore is a good time. Geneva is indifferent. Alana can relate to the desire to hang on to a few strands of mediocrity. To be able to walk down the street without every eye widening in recognition, accompanied by either fear or awe.

    ¡°In the likely event that this doesn¡¯t end in two or three fights, the strategy for the rest of the fights is simple. The two of you will alternate. Kierra takes one, Lou takes the other and draws out the fight until Kierra has fully recovered her mana.¡±

    The last words are accompanied by a glare in the direction of the elf who laughingly said she could take on all the hunters without rest. Thanks to the succubi, we have some idea of all their capabilities but no idea as to how capable they are. Kierra has a pure affinity and the experience to support it but her coefficient is limited. Especially in this March, that forces her to confront all her opponents directly, that limit could be her downfall if she gets too cocky.

    The rule of the March is that the duel doesn¡¯t end until one of the fighters is dead. That means, I can cripple my opponent and let him bleed for hours to give Kierra time to recover. Normally, this kind of thing is countered by the physical limits of the fighters. After all, there are no breaks for food or sleep.

    Drag the march out for three days and your champions are also sleeping on the snow without a bite to eat for three days. Again, not so much a problem for us but for normal knights, it would be a race to finish the March as their fighters¡¯ conditions constantly deteriorate.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°But the fight is the least important part. What matters most is what happens after the March. Time will be of the essence.¡± Alana¡¯s smile is sharp and sinister. ¡°Zach will try to elect himself as the executor of the March, to ensure the rite is upheld. If he does, it would alleviate some of the monumental embarrassment he has brought upon himself. Not to mention, he could skimp us on what¡¯s due. As he is still the favored heir, Father might even allow it.

    ¡°We cannot let this happen. He can and will screw us. Zach doesn¡¯t speak. If he so much as opens his mouth, stop him. Even if you have to go through his bannermen. As long as he doesn¡¯t die, I don¡¯t care.¡±

    ¡°Geneva, that means you.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my summoner.¡± Her tail whips in amusement.

    ¡°After I declare that we will handle the collection of our spoils personally, I¡¯m going to make a request to be put in charge of the hunters. That¡¯ll really annoy my brother and compound his loss a hundred times. As soon as Father agrees¡ª"

    ¡°What if he doesn¡¯t?¡± I ask.

    She sneers. ¡°I¡¯ve said it, haven¡¯t I? Here, your worth is proportional to the blood you shed or the size of your victories. After dominating a March, I could ask for half the Moon¡¯s armory and get it. He¡¯ll give me what I ask.

    ¡°When he does, we have to grab every single hunter. Don¡¯t worry about playing rough. The James family is the law. Every hunter is to be assembled. If we get the ones currently here marching to the right rhythm, it will make things much easier when the rest arrive. We still have two and a half weeks until the campaign. Many more hunters are going to arrive by then. We also need to control the rumors coming in and out. Used effectively, they¡¯ll make claiming our winnings much easier.¡±

    She pauses, looking between us to make sure we are following along. Or taking her seriously. I think I¡¯ve unearthed a rare failing in my elven bride. When it comes to martial matters, it is difficult for her to take circumstances into consideration. She is so entranced by the hunt, the particulars of the situation can be neglected. Some might call it a narrow focus. Either way, dangerous to a plan. We¡¯ve extracted a promise from her so it should be fine¡­I hope.

    ¡°And that should be the end of it. Afterwards, we can focus our attention on the campaign. I¡¯d say it should be clear skies from then on but we seem to attract trouble. Does everyone understand?¡±

    There are murmurs of agreement.

    Alana nods and slips off the bed. ¡°Good. Then I¡¯m going to do the last part and meet with my siblings. If I¡¯m bitter enough, they may think I¡¯m being stubborn rather than confident. The less they expect, the better.¡±

    With a small wave over her shoulder, she leaves the room. I hold my smile until the door closes behind her. Then it fades as a worry that has been growing stronger over the last three days becomes too big to ignore. ¡°Geneva.¡±

    The don in the guise of a thrall turns to me, eyes wide with innocence. I know she knows what I¡¯m about to ask and she doesn¡¯t look the slightest bit worried. That means nothing, as she is a phenomenal actor. ¡°Yes, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Is this your fault?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Did you do anything to encourage this event?¡±

    She smiles prettily. ¡°No.¡±

    Hm. Maybe I¡¯m being too paranoid. My orders are pretty thorough.

    ¡°¡­did you have any plans to gain some manner of influence over Victory? Either through me, you, Kii¡­or anyone else.¡±

    Her smile falters. Then it stretches unnaturally wide. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Saints. It would have been that easy to drop my guard. I was so close to¡­I don¡¯t know but it undoubtedly would have led somewhere horrible. ¡°What was your plan? The whole of it, step by step.¡±

    ¡°I have been making unnecessarily stressful demands on the servants, especially in regard to Cloud and her animals. Eventually, when they were at the breaking point, I would leak the contents of your cargo to them. They would take it to Zach. Knowing him, he¡¯d organize them to be sabotaged. I¡¯d cripple the saboteurs horrifically. Then, I would stoke the anger of the servants. As they are already angry with Cloud, she would become the natural target of that anger.

    ¡°She would defend herself. Zach would create an issue of it to try and discredit Alana. More than likely, he would attempt to use Victory¡¯s way of settling trouble with a duel to kill her to demoralize Alana. There is no way you would stand for it. Alana would keep you from retreating. The duke would grant the duel. You would intervene. For going against the ways of Victory, you would make yourself an enemy of Victory.

    ¡°What happens next depends on Alana. I believe she would walk away with you from Victory. In which case, another rejection would turn her desperation for approval into bitterness. Her hatred would guide you to lay ruin to Victory within three years. Perhaps less.

    ¡°In the less likely event that she chose her father over you, your grief would lead you to lay waste to the fort within months, if not immediately. You would leave the political side of things to me and I would have Victory as an unassailable stronghold in short order. That was the basic plan, allowing for bumps and curves along the way.¡±

    ¡°You¡­don¡¯t you think the crown would get involved with that level of upheaval?¡±

    ¡°The succubi in the capital could cause more than enough trouble to distract the king. And he would happily be distracted. The nobles of this kingdom are accustomed to ignoring Victory and would be more than happy to be rid of the James.¡±

    ¡°How close were you to enacting this plan?¡±

    ¡°A day, maybe two. Things were derailed by this March.¡±

    ¡°Saints¡­Geneva.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my summoner?¡±

    ¡°Stop all plans regarding conquering Victory. Alana is in control of what happens to this place.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°No plans that will drive a wedge between me and my wives.¡±

    Her tail whips faster. ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°¡­and before you try to conquer some place, tell me.¡± Really. Problems only a summoner can understand. If I were a little saner, a little more cautious, or a little more capable, I¡¯d kill this creature rather than risk her ruining my life. But all power comes with some risk. I can still manage this risk.

    I think.

    Kierra chuckles as she puts down a dangerously sharp dagger and grabs another, sharpening it against black claws.

 ARC 6-Winter War-75

    The world should announce the grim event about to take place with booming thunder and bright flashes of lightning. Instead, the sky is calm, scant snowflakes falling softly. Without the knights conducting exercises on the field outside the estate nor the rampant foot traffic I saw before, the stroll is quiet and, though I¡¯m hesitant to ever think such in this place, peaceful.

    A large procession exits the James manor, headed for the Witness Circle. At the head is the duke himself, wearing a heavy, dark blue cloak lined with white fur and a helm done in the vague likeness of a wolf. A sword hangs at his waist, the pommel a gleaming silver and the sheath as white as the surrounding snow.

    Flanking him are two of his three wives. On the right, Kalise, dressed in a similar cloak but her head bare. Resting on her shoulder is a short, thick blade that looks like it would be just as well suited to chopping logs as well as men. Another is sheathed across her back, the handle just peeking out from the edge of her cloak. She takes advantage of the rare lack of winds to whistle a soft but jaunty tune.

    To his left is the stern Eleanor, of whom I¡¯ve seen little and heard much. She is dressed the same as her husband, his greater height the only thing that separates them from behind. In her hand, she carries a simple spear, the shaft a dull gray, the tip a dark metal I¡¯ve never seen. Even marching, she has impeccable poise if not the grace of a southern noblewoman. Difficult to be graceful while moving through ankle-high snow, I suppose.

    The poor hunters truly had no idea what beast they poked when they invoked the traditions of Victory. The challenge, this March. They mean something to the people of the north. Something that goes beyond blood, honor, and death. Something so important, the lord himself has come to enforce and defend it. If anyone reneges on their word and makes mockery of their tradition, they will answer to the oldest generation of the James family, warriors to rival the fort¡¯s most formidable knights.

    Behind them is Zachariah and Jude, his bannerman, similarly armed and armored. From Alana¡¯s words, should anyone disrespect or break the rules of the March, they will also be answering to the heir apparent. They¡¯d be faced with the whole of his wrath since, as the instigator of this mess, it is his responsibility and any infringements against the March are a mark on his honor.

    Behind them is my clan, as Kierra refers to us. Alana, wearing many layers, black leather gloves, and a brown cloak bought before our departure from Quest. Once again, her distance from her family is made apparent. Even Zach¡¯s bannerman has the signature dark blue cloak and that strange helm. The insults never stop with these people.

    The most incredible thing is that Alana doesn¡¯t recognize it as insults or, at the very least, she doesn¡¯t take offense. I don¡¯t even think they mean offense. It is simply the way things are done. Luckily, for my waning patience, their attitude toward her is changing.

    After today, no one will ever look down on her again.

    Kierra and I are right behind her, both dressed in loose shirts and pants. Her for ease in shapeshifting, I bet. Me because this is likely to get messy and I wouldn¡¯t want to dirty one of my good shirts.

    Behind us are Geneva and Bell, Cloud walking between them, bundled up in a heavy coat made of thick brown fur and a matching hat. She is eager to get back home. Neither she nor her ¡°brethren¡± are fans of the weather in the north. However, her interest in the March is enough to extend her to stay for another few days.

    Poor woman. Doesn¡¯t know she came this close to being used by a scheming succubus. I haven¡¯t told her, no need to frighten her unnecessarily, but I do plan to do something nice for her once this is all over. Maybe organize another night of fun. We¡¯ll probably have to stay in. I doubt we¡¯ll be able to prance around the city like last time with my recent troubles. Or maybe we will. I might own half of it by then.

    Our procession is not unusual. Many bodies are going the same way. Those before us give way, the knights and fighters thumping their chest twice while the rest bow their heads respectfully.

    The benches of the Witness Circle are full but it doesn¡¯t stop there. Towering pillars of stone have been pulled from beneath the snow, armored knights seated at their tops. A few more linger in the air, watching from on high. At a glance, there are hundreds of witnesses. I¡¯m starting to understand the very appropriate name.

    As we approach, a soft pounding starts. It steadily grows louder. A quick glance reveals the sound is coming from the crowd stomping, booted feet hitting the stone beneath them in time. Those seated outside the circle add to the noise, some by banging their weapons, some by mimicking the rumble of thunder through magic. It reaches deafening levels quickly.

    In the center of the field, Emberton, dressed in the robes of a caster beneath his thick cloak, looks unnerved. His nervous eyes flick around the circle. I see doubt, maybe even fear, as he realizes how little he understands these people. But it¡¯s too late for doubts. He¡¯s stuck his hand in the beast¡¯s maw. Struggle all he might, it¡¯s gone.

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    As we reach the field, Kalise, Eleanor, Zach, his bannerman Jude

    , Cloud, and Alana stay behind as the rest of us continue forward. Alana went over the formalities of the event exhaustively. Because of that, my group is nonplussed as we stop behind the duke in the middle of the field. The representative for the hunters, on the other hand, is sweating despite the cold.

    Duke James raises his hand and the noise stops, the resulting silence sharp and poignant. I grin at Emberton and he swallows heavily.

    ¡°The ancestors are watching.¡± The lord of the north speaks in a normal tone but his words are heavy. ¡°Do not disgrace your blood. Do not disgrace this sacred tradition. Fight knowing you carry the burden of all that you are. Two enter, only one has the right to leave. Choose your champions.¡±

    Emberton is frozen, the weight of the moment holding him captive. No such thing applies to my wife.

    ¡°I will be fighting for our clan,¡± she announces with clear amusement. Emberton¡¯s eyes snap to her, taking in the multitude of blades she¡¯s carrying, a dozen small knives with blades barely longer than a finger. When I asked why she hadn¡¯t opted for her bow, she laughed and told me that it had been too long since she¡¯d thrown knives and thought it would be fun since there were so many willing targets. She isn¡¯t taking this seriously at all.

    The duke turns to Emberton who jumps under his gaze. He tries to cover it by clearing his throat. ¡°First to fight for the guilds is Jellings.¡± He yells the man¡¯s name and he jumps down from one of benches in the first row, jogging across the field.

    Jellings is a grim-faced, middle-aged man with silver creeping into his hair. Fighting monsters is a young man¡¯s occupation. Someone of his age should be looking to retire, at least from the front lines. It fits our information that Emberton has recruited many less than ordinary hunters to wear us down and expose our abilities in exchange for a tidy sum to their families.

    His grip on his spear is tight and his gait is stiff. Huh. I¡¯ve never seen a man walking toward his death before but he doesn¡¯t fit what my imagination might conjure. I¡¯d expect more fear. More hesitance. Instead, there is nothing but resolution about him as he stops beside Emberton. Doesn¡¯t look like an easy nut to crack. I wonder how Kierra is going to break someone¡¯s who has already prepared themselves for the worst.

    ¡°Victory or death,¡± the duke says gravely before turning away.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± I whisper, patting her shoulder.

    ¡°Watch closely, my little conqueror,¡± she whispers. ¡°Watch and learn.¡±

    We retreat back to the entrance of the field, where the rest of our group is waiting. Cloud shuffles over to me, leaning against me as she shivers. ¡°Those of flesh are not meant to tread in lands of harsh wind.¡±

    I smile at her ridiculous speech. ¡°You could just say you don¡¯t like the cold.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t, sister.¡± She jerks her head toward the circle. ¡°Are you worried?¡±

    ¡°Not in the least. You don¡¯t have to be either.¡±

    On the other side of the field, Emberton reaches the opposite entrance. No one calls the match. The moment the field is clear of all but the champions, no one is allowed to intervene. They can come to blows any moment they choose. Yet, there is no action for several heartbeats. The hunter stands there, spine straight and stiff as he awaits the executioner¡¯s ax. Kierra watches him, relaxed and amused.

    ¡°Will you not attack?¡± she asks finally. ¡°We are meant to be killing each other.¡±

    The hunter grunts. ¡°You the one that killed the guildmaster, right? No point.¡±

    ¡°Is this the agreement you had with your employer, hm? You are meant to be testing me. Pushing me to my limits.¡± Please don¡¯t sound so excited about that.

    ¡°Lady, I¡¯m tired and it¡¯s cold as Abyss out here. Just get it over with.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps a token resistance? Lest your clan be left with nothing for your sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°So you know about that? Heh. Don¡¯t worry. We get paid a base rate for fighting, with bonuses for lasting longer or prying out a secret. My family¡¯ll get what they need.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then, turn and kneel, little lamb. Submit yourself to your fate.¡±

    Despite his words, the hunter hesitates. However, after a few heartbeats, he throws down his spear and follows her instructions. I can hear Emberton yelling curses but two men hold him back with hands on his shoulders, keeping him from stepping onto the field and earning the duke¡¯s wrath. Suppose surrendering is very much not what Emberton expects of his fodder fighters.

    Kierra approaches the kneeling hunter and places her hand on the man¡¯s hair. ¡°A lesson it is too late to learn. Surrendering does not entitle you to mercy. Only a fool leaves their fate to their enemy.¡±

    She pushes him forward, face first into the snow. I expect him to jump to his feet and lunge at her. After all, she¡¯s given away her hand. But he doesn¡¯t. Instead, he starts scratching at his face, furiously. ¡°What did you do to me?¡± he yells as his hands gravitate to the rest of his body. ¡°Why am I so, fuck, itchy?¡±

    My wife doesn¡¯t answer. Instead, she slaps the back of his head with a faintly glowing hand. The hunter¡¯s scratching intensifies. He swears as he rips off his gloves and coat. He peels off his shirt and his undershirt, leaving him bare chested. Shivering, his nails rake over every piece of exposed skin they can reach. His cursing intensifies as he attempts to reach his back and fails.

    He eventually gives up in favor of shucking off his boots and pants. His stream of curses are broken by chattering teeth as he continues to scratch. Harder and harder until he breaks the skin but he doesn¡¯t stop. He scratches at the bleeding wounds, opening them further. His voice becomes desperate as he continues to scratch.

    What follows is the saddest death I¡¯ve ever witnessed. The poor hunter scratches and scratches until he is bleeding from a thousand self-inflicted wounds. What finally kills him is scratching too long and too hard at his throat. The blood really starts to flow then. He falls on his side, drowning in his own blood, his hands still scratching his abused skin. It takes an agonizing amount of time for him to stop gurgling.

    A quick drop of a film shows that the hunters are properly horrified. I watch as Emberton straightens up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

    A job well done, I suppose.

 ARC 6-Winter War-76

    The hunters are, understandably, panicking. It¡¯s one thing to die for a cause. They can take a sword if it means providing for their families and defending the reputation of the guilds.

    Watching one of their compatriots claw himself to death after being tapped on the head two times has firmly driven home the reality of their circumstances. This is not an impossible challenge with a king¡¯s ransom waiting for anyone who manages to rise against fate. They won¡¯t be laying down their lives after a valiant struggle, going out in a blaze of glory rather than slinking into retirement with lackluster stories and even more lackluster coin purses.

    This is a death sentence. They will die and they will die horribly. Painfully. Slowly. There will be no mercy. The glorious struggle they imagine amounts to a game to the foreign woman watching them with a manic smile. The moment they enter the Witness Circle, they will become her toys, their lives worth less than worms.

    The hunters are not happy.

    Emberton is even less so. His fodder soldiers are rather important to his strategy. After all, the stronger hunters, those who aren¡¯t desperate for money and can make their way in the world just fine without a guild behind them, agreed to participate under the premise that they wouldn¡¯t be fighting blind. A guildmaster was killed. Reputations be damned, they don¡¯t want to be next.

    The representative is still shouting them down when the duke¡¯s voice booms across the silent Witness Circle. ¡°Choose your next champion.¡±

    Emberton jumps and his voice grows louder as he shouts at the reluctant men. They don¡¯t seem to be moved. Is that it? Have we broken them? I can¡¯t believe it, that was easier than I¡ª

    ¡°I will take a break.¡± Kierra raises her voice for all to hear. Still smiling, she walks toward us. On the other end of the circle, Emberton¡¯s voice gains strength and the hunters¡¯ voices weaken. They are not nearly as afraid of the recently promoted initiate. Saints damn this woman. I should have made her promise to do this efficiently. Of course, if she has her way, this will be dragged on forever.

    Once she nears, I move toward her, my succubi behind me. ¡°Thanks,¡± I whisper dryly as we pass one another.

    ¡°Make them weep,¡± she returns, chuckling at my annoyance.

    ¡°A good idea, my summoner,¡± Geneva murmurs. ¡°There is little as demoralizing to a man as watching another man cry broken tears.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited. We already agreed that I¡¯m the one fighting,¡± I return. It was a decision we came to while strewn across Alana¡¯s bed. Thankfully, my future saint leans more toward holding back a blade to strike at the most opportune moment rather than cowling foes with overwhelming force. She understands the value of keeping secrets. To that end, having my succubi fight will expose many secrets.

    As of now, no one has connected the rampaging beasts to them. It seems like idiocy at first glance. Succubi are shapeshifters. To me, it makes sense to assume that the beasts accompanying me were them. It makes more sense than assuming I suddenly tamed two previously unknown manabeasts. My view may be a result of being too close because none of the hunters have made the connection.

    It¡¯s not entirely their fault. For one, no living hunter witnessed the succubi transforming into their forms. Alana brought up the point that Zach wasn¡¯t stupid but had doomed himself because he cannot fathom the extent of my abilities. I¡¯ve also thought that no one would ever believe that I have seven affinities without being shown the proof.

    In same way, human understanding of shapeshifting stops the hunters from assuming my succubi are the beasts that rampaged through the city. It simply isn¡¯t something they would ever guess a physical affinity could do. Make a man as strong as a team of oxen? Sure. Turn a plain woman into a beauty men would kill to woo? Absolutely. Heal the unmendable and tear a man apart from the inside? Expected.

    Transform into a completely different creature? No. Never.

    What is also holding them back are their false assumptions based on their research. Geneva has taken the guise of a thrall and Bell an incompetent imp. Neither should have the strength of a master caster, the bare minimum it would take for them to be able to accept skill of that caliber.

    To hold onto those secrets a little longer, it¡¯s better they don¡¯t fight directly. This body¡¯s prowess has already been exposed along with my questionable casting abilities. As scary as I am, I am still only an extension of my wife¡¯s abilities.

    Their trepidation about my physical abilities is nothing to what the nobles of the kingdom would feel if they knew I had contracted not one, but two master level elementals. That is scary enough on its own but having two by my side would lead any sensible person to assume that I can contract more.

    That would make me a threat that cannot be ignored.

    My elementals almost weren¡¯t allowed to fight with me. Duels are one on one, no interference. The night before the March, Zach tried to screw us by arguing that elementals are separate individuals, therefore they shouldn¡¯t be allowed to fight with me. Alana countered with the fact that they are bound to my mana, making them a part of me.

    They went back and forth for a bit before I interrupted with the bold declaration that elementals were a summoner¡¯s weapons, the same as a sword or a dagger. Followed up with that as the son of a duke he should understand that subordinates could be extensions of a ruler¡¯s will. That was enough for the duke to come down on our side.

    Alana also revealed Rolly to her father in private. Can¡¯t have the young lord spreading our secrets but it wouldn¡¯t be good if the duke thought someone unrelated was interfering if I need Rolly for anything.

    As I reach the center of the field, the hunters find their resolve. Or at least, one more of the fodder hunters does. He is the opposite of the poor bastard with the misfortune to face Kierra; tall, nervous, and painfully young.

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    The bulk of his coat isn¡¯t enough to hide that he is frightfully skinny. His head jerks and twitches as he shuffles forward, his lips slightly moving as he mutters to himself. He¡¯s not even saying anything, just a soft gurgle of nonsensical sounds. His eyes are glowing. Guess he has no intention of surrendering like his predecessor.

    Suddenly, his movements become glacial. While the world appears to have suddenly slowed to a crawl, I have experienced this enough times to recognize Geneva¡¯s touch. It¡¯s my thoughts that are faster. What¡¯s wrong?

    [The boy has alchemical weapons under his coat. Several flasks of a strange liquid.]

    Strange liquid? You don¡¯t know what it is?

    [I¡¯ve told you it is dangerous to assume I know everything, my summoner. However, it is easy to find out.]

    For obvious reasons to anyone that knows her kind, one of my very first orders to the succubus was that she not use her abilities on me or on innocents, lest in defense of me or mine. As he has yet to attack us and whatever concoction he¡¯s carrying isn¡¯t truly a threat, she must think the situation too ambiguous to act on her own. Or maybe this is her way of kissing ass after I uncovered her plot. Showing she¡¯s still the good, obedient pet and there¡¯s no need to grow any more suspicious of her motives.

    Go on.

    Our conversation started with my opponent mid-step. I give my order for her to search his mind as he finally manages to put his foot down. He doesn¡¯t have time to raise the other before I have the answer.

    [He is not knowledgeable of the concoction¡¯s ingredients. Once heat is applied to the mixture, it expands rapidly and the gas is toxic. He hopes to create a cloud of poison. Poisons are a standard tactic against particularly sturdy creatures or powerful regenerators.]

    And how does he plan to escape his cloud of death?

    [He doesn¡¯t.]

    Ah. He¡¯s heating up this poison right now?

    [Indeed. He plans to throw them down. He imagines it¡¯ll take three breaths before the gas covers most of the field.]

    I can reach him before then. Sap the heat from this mixture. Will that be enough to stop it?

    [Yes. Is there anything else you could do?]

    I mentally frown at the question. The current strategy is good enough, isn¡¯t it?

    [Perhaps. The cold environ should make the spell to disperse the heat fairly easy. Though you¡¯d either have to target the whole of the person or each of the flasks individually. But there are other possibilities, are there not?]

    Are you¡­trying to instruct me right now?

    [I wouldn¡¯t want you to think I¡¯m neglecting your education.]

    She is seriously kissing ass. I¡¯m not angry about her scheming. It would be the same as being angry at a storm cloud for pouring rain. It is simply doing what it is meant to do.

    [While I am always eager to demonstrate my value, my summoner, this remains a valuable opportunity. We have tried all manner of instruction except one. One already proven effective. Hands-on application. Humor me. We have time before he reaches his place and the duel begins.]

    I take in the glacial pace of the young hunter. His foot is halfway in the air and poised to move forward. Fine, I¡¯ll humor you. But isn¡¯t my way the best way?

    [Is it?]

    I suppose I could drain the heat from those flasks from a distance. Ugh, dimension variables. Less mana intensive than distance variables but far more complicated. Oh! I suppose I could throw him backward and light him up. Let him breathe in the poison on his own.

    [A more effective tactic for a group but valid. Is that all?]

    Hm¡­

    [Would you like a hint?]

    I¡¯ve got it. Saints damn succubus. Excuse me for not thinking at the same rate as an immortal being that¡¯s been plotting the downfall of creatures big and small for centuries, if not more.

    [Very well. No rush.]

    Hmm¡­Maybe¡­no, I don¡¯t want to expose those secrets. At the end of the day, it boils down to stopping the mixture or knocking him aside, no matter what means I choose to do it with. Right? That¡¯s it. There¡¯s no other answer.

    [If your goal was merely to win. But is that your goal?]

    ¡­no.

    [Then what is your goal?]

    To stall for time while Kierra recovers her mana. Oh, and to make the hunters despair so they¡¯ll surrender before they¡¯re all slaughtered. Can¡¯t believe I¡¯m the only person trying to save these people. When did I become the most soft-hearted of the group? Not even Cloud urged restraint when she heard about the March, simply wishing us luck in battle.

    [I believe I should allow another to weigh in.]

    {Hm?} Rolly¡¯s chiming voice echoes in my mind. {What is¡­oh? Oh hoh! I did not know you capable of a mind table!}

    A mind table?

    {A translation, of course. Its name is far more elegant in my own tongue. You should consider altering the range of your senses and voice. With your current body, there are many things you will miss and several creatures you could never converse with. Most are wary of mind-to-mind contact.}

    Ah. Something to think about but the mind table thing. You make it sound like it¡¯s more than speeding up thoughts.

    {Oh, my poor, young summoner. So little you have seen. So little you know. This isn¡¯t merely altering how you feel time. She has connected to the whole of your perceptions. Close your eyes and she could take you anywhere. It is a journey of a lifetime that can be taken in stolen moments. A wondrous and much valued skill¡­in the right hands.}

    ¡­but why call it a mind table?

    {That is all you have to ask?} The lueorale¡¯s voice is tinged with exasperation. {Again, it is a translation. The descriptor is changed based on the magnitude of the spell. Between two or three minds, it¡¯s a table. A dozen? A mind¡­room, I guess. A couple dozen? A mind manor. So on and so forth. There are species that exist only in their thoughts, normally the strongest of them creating a mind world that can connect millions of minds.}

    [If you are done with story time, shall we continue with the education of our summoner? I wouldn¡¯t want this to go on so long Lou forgets what we¡¯re doing here.]

    {Ah, yes. There is danger in cutting yourself from the flow of time. Then? What are we doing?}

    [Her opponent is about to sacrifice himself to kill her. On his body are mixtures that he will heat with a spell and throw towards her. The gas will rapidly spread to cover the entirety of the field. How would you achieve victory?]

    {Assuming I don¡¯t have our summoner¡¯s ridiculous body?}

    [Restricting yourself to the fire and wind affinity.]

    {Ha! Drain the heat from the area and put an arrow of flame through his head. No flasks there. Throw him away and let him explode on his own. Wait for him to throw the poison and jump. Even if you don¡¯t fly, you can stay up there long enough for your opponent to die and to maintain fairness, the duke will have the poison cleared. Wind could be fast enough to take off his head and stop his spell if it¡¯s channeled. Shatter the flasks with a burst of wind. Doubt he¡¯s targeting the mixture itself rather than its container with his spell.}

    Ah, she basically said the same things as me. Except for the air thing. Didn¡¯t think to simply run. And why would I? I don¡¯t need to run from much of anything.

    [Then, how would you inflict fear in the other hunters?]

    {Too easy. Nothing.}

    Nothing?

    {Think of it. A desperate man steps before the villain, ready to lay down his life for victory. His weapon, a poison that will kill him just the same as his hated enemy. He uses his diabolical mixture, roaring in pained victory even as it eats him from the inside out, because it is all worth it so long as he takes you with him. The hunters avert their eyes, saying a prayer for their fallen comrade. The cloud of death clears. Their friend lies dead. And you? You stand there, slightly puzzled and completely unharmed. Utterly flabbergasted how an insect thought it could possibly harm you. Exasperated by the knowledge that the fool has wasted your time so completely.}

    The creature giggles. {You balk from inflicting terror and horror. Then assault them with apathy. Make them realize that though they may be willing to sacrifice everything, even their lives, it is all pointless. You are the end. The indomitable. The inevitable. Take away their hope and their purpose and who could muster any strength to raise arms? Of course, it¡¯s not as simple as standing there looking serious. Allow me to show you how to be a proper villain, my summoner.}

 ARC 6-Winter War-77

    Geneva¡¯s influence on my mind wanes and time resumes its natural flow. The hunter moving at a glacial pace moves faster. He is not as stern in the face of death as his predecessor but seems just as determined. Despite trembling, he doesn¡¯t hesitate for a moment.  He runs toward me as he opens his coat, revealing the flasks in question.

    Half a dozen glass bottles with round bottoms and long necks hang from his waist. He rips off the belt holding them as the mixtures begin to bubble and pale green smoke fills the bottles. He cocks his arm and throws them toward me as he squeals, ¡°Die!¡±

    As he dramatically sacrifices himself to bring me down, I carefully maintain a bored expression.

    As the belt hits the ground before me, the bottles shatter. The smoke inside rapidly spreads, quickly engulfing me. I see the silhouette of the hunter as he drops to his knees, resigned to the end. One that doesn¡¯t come.

    The fog stops abruptly, corralled by an invisible Rolly. This is treading the line of what the pacifist is comfortable with. She only agreed to this plan becomes it is nonviolent and more a performance than a tactic. I was prepared for her to say no. A summoner has to exert control over their elementals but purposely antagonizing them does me no favors.

    The lueorale whips the wind into action, pushing on the cloud. Condensing the smoke into a swirling ball that shrinks until it is smaller than a fist. Then she moves it closer to me.

    I channel mana. I have no intention of casting a spell but the people watching don¡¯t know that. Better to reveal a second common affinity, something I will eventually end up showing anyway, than Rolly.

    I may not be building a spell but I am shifting my body. Specifically, turning my throat and part of my torso into ooze.

    I hold out a hand and make a beckoning motion to the ball of gas. Useless theatrics while Rolly directs it toward my open mouth and down my throat. Into the ooze filling my gut. Once it¡¯s there, I wrap my ooze around it, not leaving the slightest gap. Good to go.

    Geneva mentally informs me as she relays my condition to Rolly. Then she informs me when the lueorale releases her spell. I wait a moment but the poison doesn¡¯t spread through my body. Hah! I knew it would work. And Geneva says I have no creativity. Forget standing in a cloud of poison. I ate the damn cloud!

    The hunter seems suitably impressed. And by impressed, I mean utterly dumbfounded. He¡¯s doing a wonderful impression of a fish with his wide eyes and dropped jaw.

    ¡°Good stuff,¡± I say nonchalantly. Rolly wants me to take on a more domineering persona but hearing the lueorale replicate my voice but pitched deeper, speaking in less short, clipped sentences for extra impact, I knew that wasn¡¯t for me. I am not cold and threatening. Nor do I think I can channel the dismissive arrogance of people like Gordon Grimoire Sr.

    What I can do is jolly and flippant. I can¡¯t imagine anything more annoying than trying to kill someone and being ignored. To be so inconsequential, my target doesn¡¯t see me as a threat. There is no pain like the pain of being irrelevant. I would know.

    ¡°You¡­¡± The hunter finally snaps out of his stupor. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°Hm? Oh, that little snack was nothing.¡± The young man hurries to his feet. He reaches behind his back, drawing a shortsword, slashing at me wildly as I approach him. I easily dodge his clumsy strikes and throw an arm over his shoulders.

    ¡°My wife, the elf standing over there, she loves to play tricks on me. Thinks poisoning someone is a harmless prank. Gets creative about it, uses some real nasty stuff.¡± She doesn¡¯t but I can imagine it. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten a taste for it now. That one was good. Fruity.¡± Haha, his face. ¡°What¡¯s the name?¡±

    He tries to stab me in the side but I catch his wrist. In response, his eyes start to glow.

    ¡°Oh, magic now? Better put your back into it. Won¡¯t do a thing to me of course but we could use some heat. It¡¯s cold out here. Mind your variables, we¡¯re close enough for you to hurt yourself if you¡¯re not careful.¡±

    The hunter looks at me like I¡¯m crazy. I don¡¯t know what he¡¯ll do. He already to die with me through poison. It¡¯s not unreasonable to think he would try to burn us together.

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    But he doesn¡¯t. After several beats of silence, his eyes lose their glow and his shoulders slump. ¡°Just kill me.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you learn anything from the last fight? It¡¯s dangerous putting your life in anyone¡¯s hands, especially an enemy.¡±

    He stiffens. Then he reverses his grip on his weapon and stabs himself. Or, he tries. I¡¯m far too strong and stop him before the blade can pierce his throat. A small squeeze is all it takes to make him drop the blade.

    ¡°None of that.¡± Bell scampers over and grabs the blade, holding it up to me. I drop his hand to grab it, waving it before his face. ¡°Look. The saints know you¡¯re going to die. You knew that before you stepped onto this field. Only one of us can survive. It¡¯s going to be me. Yeah?¡±

    Without the escape of a quick death, the hunter¡¯s courage crumples. His trembling returns as the shadow of death looms over him. Or maybe he¡¯s missing the coat he carelessly threw aside earlier, expecting to be dead before he noticed its absence.

    ¡°Cheer up. You¡¯re one of the lucky ones. I mean, you got me. Imagine if you tried that against my wife. She doesn¡¯t eat poison. She bathes in it. Swims in pools of it. She would have laughed at your smoke.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± the hunter mumbles. He chances a glance at me before quickly turning away. ¡°I¡­targeted you. For the bounty. Emberton said poison wouldn¡¯t work on a pure physical affinity.¡±

    ¡°Too right. Smart choice to go after me. I mean, how could you know it¡¯d be completely useless? Everyone always underestimates what I can do. All of you think I¡¯m nothing compared to my wife. She wouldn¡¯t have married me if I was useless.¡±

    I sigh. ¡°Too bad all your thinking and all your planning means nothing. Readied yourself to face death for gold and glory and all you managed to do was feed a bored noblewoman an unexpected snack. Not a good way to be remembered. Think of the songs the bards will sing.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± he whimpers, failing to keep his mounting anxiety out of his tone. ¡°I¡­I was useless anyway. At least¡­at least when I die, my siblings will get something.¡±

    ¡°Will they?¡±

    ¡°¡­what do you mean?¡±

    Rolly, make sure the hunters hear the next part. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember the terms of this March? I don¡¯t blame you for getting confused. Northern traditions are strange. You see, the winners get everything. Everything, do you understand? That includes the bounty on my head if by some miracle you manage to kill me or my wife. Also includes the money Emberton has promised to your families or favored mistresses or whoever else you all plan to throw your lives away for. Hey!¡±

    I hold the hunter up as his knees buckle. ¡°You can¡¯t do that,¡± he whispers. Then he shouts it. ¡°You can¡¯t do that!¡±

    ¡°Of course I can. And I¡¯m going to. I like to think I¡¯m agreeable but not so agreeable that I¡¯d support the families of men trying to kill me. Besides, I like crowns as much as the next person. Plenty of ways I could spend that kind of money.¡±

    With a poor attempt at a battle cry, the hunter wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes. I don¡¯t react, keeping a smile on my face. Not a difficult task. His wasted efforts are a little sad to watch, knowing he¡¯s doing his best for his family, but it¡¯s also amusing. I focus on the amusing.

    ¡°Trying to warm yourself up with a little exercise? You¡¯d be better off running around for a bit. This isn¡¯t going to get you very far.¡±

    His fingers are tense as he puts all his strength into throttling me. I let him do as he pleases until he tires, his arms falling limply to his sides. Tears pool in his eyes. ¡°They have to get the money,¡± he mutters. ¡°If they don¡¯t¡­I¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you wondering what the point is?¡± I ask. ¡°There isn¡¯t one. None. None at all. You are throwing your life away for nothing. You aren¡¯t helping anyone. Your death accomplishes nothing. You¡¯ll die in this freezing wasteland for someone else¡¯s revenge. As a tool in someone else¡¯s dick measuring contest.¡±

    ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m lying? Why would I? You¡¯re going to die. As soon as my wife gives the signal that she¡¯s recovered her mana, she¡¯s going to torture another one of your friends to death. Shame you won¡¯t get to see that. It¡¯s not everyday you get to see men killed in ways you could never imagine.

    ¡°Those are the kind of stories that would make a man popular in Paradise. Can you imagine describing to a saint how you watched a man claw his own skin off? Ah. Wait. Someone who kills others for money with horrific poisons won¡¯t be welcome by the saints. Suppose it¡¯s to the Abyss then. You¡¯ll be nothing in death too.¡±

    This time, when his legs give out, I let him fall into the snow and pat his head condescendingly.

    In the seats, the hunters cause an uproar.

    ¡°Oi! Emberton! Is she right?¡±

    ¡°Our families are getting paid, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Are you telling us we¡¯re dying for nothing?!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her!¡± Emberton shouts back at them. ¡°She¡¯s trying to subvert your will! They know they can¡¯t fight us all so they want us to surrender.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you pig bastard! You didn¡¯t answer the question! Is she right? If they win, do our families get nothing? And don¡¯t you dare try to lie.¡±

    ¡°Of course not¡ª"

    ¡°She speaks truth,¡± a native of Victory, sitting on a higher bench calls down. The hunters all turn to the armored man wearing a similar helm to the duke in dark blue. ¡°The winner of the March takes everything. Your money and your debts. It would be their choice whether to pay them.¡±

    The hunters don¡¯t take kindly to that. They are incensed and take their anger out on Emberton, cursing him and all his ancestors. The fodder makes the most noise. The strong hunters are quiet, re-evaluating their commitment in the face of the many men threatening to leave.

    ¡°Calm down! All of that only applies if they win. Do you really think two women can kill all of us?¡±

    ¡°How many did they kill in Quest?¡± a hunter shouts.

    On and on it goes, the hunters¡¯ wills shaken.

 ARC 6-Winter War-78

    Magic is not equal.

    It is a discipline that is heavily dependent on natural talent and that talent is not distributed equally. There are nine affinities, four basic and five greater. There is a good reason for that distinction. Manipulating the elements is impressive and useful, but, at the end of the day, limited.

    The guildmaster Kierra slew was a master fire caster. The epitome of his affinity. Defending himself from my wife¡¯s assault was incredible but beyond that¡­he threw fire. Powerful fire but fire all the same. The same as an initiate throwing a basic flame arrow.

    The same applies to the other elements. There are those who find innovative ways to use their affinities. Notably, the famous rain callers of Rosentheim who viciously guard the spells that keep the city overflowing with greenery. There are builders who shape earth to help erect buildings, inspiring stories of casters who can erect whole cities with a wave of their hand. Informants who use the wind affinity to be everywhere, all the time. Yet that pales in comparison to what the greater affinities can do.

    Geneva is a prime example. I¡¯ve seen her demonstrate spells using both basic and greater affinities. She taught me a spell using fire and wind that can rival the power of a master without their years of experience. That is power any noble house or faction would covet.

    That is nothing when examined beside her night of fun with Arthur. In the course of a few hours, she made him live a false life of ten years. She taught him and traumatized him. Changed him irrevocably and the impact he will have on the world. Compared to that, throwing around a little fire seems inconsequential.

    Affinities are not the only way a caster¡¯s talent is measured. There is also the mana core. Some are born with weak cores that take exceedingly long to grow. They can work all their lives and never reach a coefficient greater than two hundred.

    There are also those born with powerful cores that grow several times faster than average. They can practice haphazardly and still have a coefficient of five hundred before their fifth decade. And just as it is unheard of for people to change their affinities, it is similarly ¡°impossible¡± for someone to change the quality of their core.

    My wife does not have many things I would call a flaw or a weakness. I¡¯ve discovered another. Truly, it isn¡¯t much of a weakness as it is a point of¡­normality. In this regard she is perfectly average. I¡¯m simply unaccustomed to associating her with the word average.

    It took her a small but noticeable amount of mana to inflict a horrible death on her first opponent. She¡¯s not so adept at reading her expenditures to give percentages like the succubi. The best she can say is ¡°barely an effort¡±. Despite that, it still takes her about two hours to recover the mana.

    It reminds me that my wife is not invulnerable. She may be a terror with her magic but her mana can be exhausted and without it¡­well, she may not be weak but she would be a manageable threat. Weak enough to be threatened by a single troll, as her past shows.

    When Geneva tells me she¡¯s ready, I snap my opponent¡¯s neck. No fuss, no mess. Just a little force on the man¡¯s fragile bones and he falls face-first into the snow without so much as a whimper. I don¡¯t even look at the poor bastard, instead choosing to stare at the hunters as I do the deed.

    There is no yelling. The time for angry outbursts has passed. Now the hunters need to make a decision. The air is heavy around the many tense bodies and bowed heads. Emberton stands before the first row of seats, looking between them with a grim frown and anxious eyes.

    ¡°Choose your next champion,¡± the duke demands, his words echoing across the empty field.

    A hunter rises from his seat and makes for the exit. Emberton tries to grab his shoulder as he passes the pudgy representative but the limb is shaken off and the man keeps walking. ¡°It¡¯s not worth it!¡± I hear him shout before he breaks into a run. No one else tries to stop him. Other hunters are also rising, preparing to leave. The scene is wiped away in a sudden, blinding light accompanied by a powerful clap of sound.

    I recognize Kalise¡¯s spell and remain still. Once I blink the dark spots out of my eyes, I drop a ¡°film¡±. The hunter that was about to make his escape is lying beyond the exit, the back of his cloak scorched. Odds are he¡¯s dead.

    The others that meant to follow him are still, frozen by fear or caution. There are a stream of curses and whispered questions as they try to understand the unexpected turn of events.

    ¡°You outsiders have been given lenience as a little ignorance can be forgiven,¡± the duke of Victory says, drawing their attention. ¡°But your situation was made clear. One side wins, the other dies. Victory or death. Choose your champion.¡±

    I gape at the duke with a dropped jaw. They can¡¯t surrender? What in the Abyss was the point of our strategy?! Geneva!

    [It seems there¡¯s been a misunderstanding. Do you want me to delve deeper?]

    No, dammit! But you should have said something about this misunderstanding earlier.

    [What was there to say? You are letting Alana take the lead in all matters regarding Victory and you disapprove of me interfering with your relationships.]

    You better have a better excuse than that.

    She giggles. I know it is designed to assuage my anger but it¡¯s still effective. Why does she have to be so cute? Maybe I should tell her to be less attractive¡­no. [Do you not trust Alana has a strategy? Or are you finally disgusted with the James and their absurd traditions?]

    Saints cursed scheming¡­if we were anywhere else, on behalf on anyone else, this might have swayed me into doing something reckless. Even if that is only walking away from this whole mess. But I can¡¯t walk away. This is Alana¡¯s home. Her family. Her dream. I promised her.

    [How passive you are, my summoner. Are you so frightened of rejection? So frightened that you would leave your lover to stress about the particulars alone? Perhaps she didn¡¯t discuss the March in detail because she thought you couldn¡¯t handle it.]

    That¡¯s ridiculous! And I told you not to tell me her thoughts.

    [I¡¯m not telling you her thoughts. Merely speaking on a hypothetical. She may not be alone, physically, but you heaped all of the responsibility of dealing with the her family, the source of all her traumas, onto her shoulders. Did you think you were doing her a favor? No one is infallible. Not me and certainly not your love and inexperienced lover. Has it not been shown that her judgment has been compromised when it comes to her family?]

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Quiet. I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re being helpful or playing another game and this is not the time for this.

    I walk toward Kierra and the others. My eyes move to Alana. She wears the same grim frown as her brother who stands behind her. Grim, but not surprised. Not bothered. So, why am I?

    The hunters started this. They challenged me. They want to kill me and will do so without a moment¡¯s hesitation if given the opportunity. When Kalise mentioned the March, they could have walked away. Gotten more information. Instead, they pounced on what they thought was easy prey. I don¡¯t normally spare a thought for people who wish me ill.

    Maybe¡­maybe because I know they have no chance, because I know they cannot kill me or Kierra, it doesn¡¯t affect me the way it normally would. Maybe it¡¯s because I watched a man tear his own throat out and know that anyone else my wife gets her hands on will suffer a similar, if not worse, fate.

    They¡¯re¡­pathetic. Heart strainingly, tear inducingly, pathetic. Especially the poor hunter currently making his way to the middle of the Witness Circle, an unwillingly sacrifice pushed forward by his cold comrades. Ignored by them as they continue to argue about their looming deaths.

    It irks me.

    [Perhaps¡ª]

    Don¡¯t. I can chew over this another time. The last thing I need is to feel more pity for these bastards.

    ¡°Enough.¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡±

    Across the field, one of the hunters is making a fuss. Dropping a ¡°film¡±, I make out his finer clothes. There isn¡¯t much room for style in this weather but the fine scarlet fur wrapped around his shoulders makes a statement. He screams money and for a hunter, that means he¡¯s strong.

    ¡°No, I¡¯ve had enough. I came to earn some gold and pay off a debt but no favor is worth my life!¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡± A woman, at least I guess as much from the sound of her voice as she¡¯s covered in gray armor from head to toe, stands. ¡°I was asked to watch this farce with the understanding that I wouldn¡¯t fight. Now, we¡¯re being forced to either fight these madwomen or face the wrath of the duke? Ridiculous.¡±

    A man in a fur-lined cloak over a dark blue robe is the next to stand. ¡°The same for me. Emberton. What have you gotten us into?¡±

    The pudgy representative of the hunters flinches under the harsh tone. ¡°What¡¯s the problem? It¡¯s a couple women. Put them down and it¡¯s all over.¡±

    ¡°A couple of women?¡± the woman in the full plate scoffs. ¡°Leaving your opinion of the opposite sex aside, the noblewoman dragged out her fight when she could have ended it at any time.¡±

    ¡°To let the elf recover her mana,¡± the man in blue added.

    ¡°No, a demonstration. Was the threat not clear? There are physical spells that can nourish others. Incredibly costly spells that aren¡¯t worth the time for most masters. A spell we don¡¯t have but I assume the elf with the pure affinity does. If we are not allowed to leave, they can starve us out. Our numbers become useless then.

    She turns to Emberton, who flinches again. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t believe we can fight off a master physical caster with unknown abilities after multiple days without food or proper rest.¡±

    ¡°I¡­well, what other choice is there?!¡± Emberton shouts. ¡°If we don¡¯t win, the whole of the north will march on Quest. Do you think the guilds are going to give up everything they own? No, they won¡¯t! Right now, we are the only ones who can stop the first war in the history of the kingdom!¡±

    ¡°Why does it have to be us?!¡± the hunter with the scarlet fur shouts. ¡°You¡¯re the one who made this mess by hopping in bed with the James boy. I¡¯m not dying for this!¡±

    The representative sneers. ¡°I think the duke has made it clear you don¡¯t have much of a choice.¡±

    ¡°My lord.¡± To my surprise, Eleanor suddenly speaks up. ¡°I think it is time for an intervention.¡±

    ¡°Stay out of this, ice woman,¡± Kalise snarls. ¡°If your boy can¡¯t wipe his own ass by now, best to let nature set him right.¡±

    ¡°My son will speak on his own behalf,¡± the duke says, ending the argument before it can begin. ¡°If he dares.¡±

    The implication is obvious. Zach can dig himself a deeper hole if he isn¡¯t careful. A fact he knows as well from his hesitant expression. But it only lasts for a moment. Then his features relax and he steps forward. ¡°By my name, Zachariah Erenhart James, I request an intervention,¡± he yells.

    ¡°You have no right,¡± Kalise growls.

    ¡°My lord has given his permission,¡± Eleanor snaps. ¡°And my son, your future lord, speaks.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Not the way he¡¯s going.¡±

    Zach¡¯s hands ball at his sides. ¡°I want to make a proposition to the Tome clan.¡±

    ¡°If it isn¡¯t to surrender, you can shut up,¡± Alana says at the same time Kierra says, ¡°Speak.¡±

    My future saint looks at the elf with disbelief. I imagine my expression is the same. She grins viciously. ¡°Speak your proposition, foolish cub.¡±

    ¡°Kii!¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Her eyes narrow as she turns toward me. ¡°I want this.¡±

    What?! This is not the time. ¡°No.¡±

    She moves toward me. After remaking myself, she doesn¡¯t tower over me, but she still has the height advantage. Something I usually like but is incredibly annoying now. ¡°I believe it is time for another challenge.¡±

    Wait¡­she can¡¯t mean¡­oh, not now, for the love of the saints!

    ¡°Speak quickly, boy,¡± my wife says, looking over her shoulder.

    Zach seizes the opportunity. ¡°All your enemies will fight you at once. Are you confident?¡±

    ¡°NO!¡± I shout alongside Alana.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Kierra replies, ¡°but if the stakes have been raised, so must the reward. What will you offer?¡±

    His thick brows are furrowed as he thinks. I grab my wife by the collar, drawing her attention back to me, ready to¡­I don¡¯t know. Saints, why does she insist on making this more difficult than it needs to be?

    Before I can find the words, she grabs me about the waist and pulls me close, lowering her head to whisper in my ear. ¡°Have I not been good, dedia? I think I¡¯ve been very good.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been great but that has nothing to do with¡ª¡±

    She pulls me tighter against her and lowers her voice to a volume only someone with our ridiculous hearing could pick up. ¡°Good mates deserve rewards lest they think it better to be bad.¡±

    ¡°You¡­alright. Fine. A reward. No problem. Anything you want, after we finish¡ª¡±

    ¡°I want this,¡± she hisses.

    ¡°Saints blessed asses, Kii¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why are you so against this, my conqueror? Do you still not realize your power? Why deny me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about that.¡± Is it? ¡°I¡­this is Alana¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Her hand grabs my chin, stopping my next words. ¡°Are you not the head of this family? Perhaps you want to be a flower as well.¡±

    I glare at her. Just because I don¡¯t like taking risks and senseless slaughter does not make me soft. I won¡¯t be goaded into thinking this is some kind of game!

    I shake off her grip and push her away. ¡°This is not the time.¡±

    ¡°I say it is.¡±

    I close m eyes in exasperation. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we can settle this with calm words and rationale.¡±

    She growls. It¡¯s not her sexy, beast in bed growl but her best impression of a hungry predator one second from extreme violence.

    I had to marry the savage. Couldn¡¯t find myself someone like her sister who spends her days dancing with butterflies or one of the Twilight elves who would have been content as long as they had free access to my body. Had to choose the former warrior with a troll fetish and a problematic battle lust.

    ¡°You¡¯re about to have what promises to be the biggest fight of your life in less than a month,¡± I grumble.

    ¡°I want it now.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve come to a decision¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡± I shout at the stupid heir that is the root of my current problems. Am I going to have to fight her? To stop her from fighting the hunters? Just so I can kill them all anyway? No, it¡¯s the principle of the thing. ¡°This is all your fault so stay out of it!¡±

    I turn away from the shocked heir. ¡°No. We¡¯re not doing this today. I am the head of this family and I¡¯m telling you to put the claws away and calm down.¡±

    To spite me, her nails blacken and lengthen to actual claws. ¡°Make me.¡±

    ¡°Hey! You two¡ª¡±

    ¡°I said shut it!¡± I roar at Zachariah.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    I turn to Alana. ¡°One moment.¡±

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    Hearing the change in her tone, I turn to her. Her eyes plead with me to calm down and I just manage. She flashes me the tiniest of smiles before erasing it and turning toward her brother. ¡°There¡¯s only one proposition we will accept.¡±

    ¡°Half!¡± His outrage lasts for only a moment. ¡°¡­if my interests are on the line, they should be defended by one of my own. One of my bannermen will join the side of the hunters. And I request a period of time to address the hunters. Half an hour.¡±

    My future saint smiles prettily. ¡°A quarter of an hour and you have a deal.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-79

    How did things come to this?

    ¡°Ahhhh!¡±

    ¡°Fucking bitch!¡± A hunter wielding twin short swords leaps at Kierra, four more swords hovering behind him. My wife throws away the hunter currently in her grasp to dodge the flurry of attacks. The barrage is interrupted by a spike of earth pushing through the attacker¡¯s heel. Kierra uses the opening to leap at him, clawed hands reaching for his throat. She tackles them to the ground and both are engulfed by fire¡ª

    ¡°Oof!¡± The air is knocked out of me as something slams into my chest. A man, wearing a helm that exposes his scarred face, wielding the bastard child of a warhammer and a mace. I catch a quick glance of his sneer as I tumble backwards, cursing the stupid turn of events that led to me being pummeled by multiple hunters.

    Damn my savage elf of a wife that couldn¡¯t take the easy victory. And my future saint who is too cold and vindictive when it comes to her family. And her absolute idiot of her brother who doubles down when given the chance to retreat. Who in their right mind would continue this farce in this situation?

    Ah, wait. Of course he did. He¡¯s a man of Victory, the son of the James. All they know is how to fight losing¡ª

    Hot air rushes over me the moment I come to a stop. I tear off my scorched undershirt, the skin underneath unharmed. As I try to get to my feet, they slide on ice that appears beneath me and I am helped to the ground by the sneering hunter with a powerful blow to my back.

    I roll as the mace-hammer lands where my head would have been, kicking out at the man¡¯s leg. He screams as the bone is snapped. It¡¯s not enough to distract him, a large blow of fire exploding my face and throwing me away.

    Again, I try to get to my feet but am foiled by two spells accurately hitting me behind the knees. A hunter with a spear dashes toward me. They jab at me, intending to spear me through the heart. I catch the shaft, landing on my back while channeling a spell. My attacker leans out of the way of the flame arrow aimed at their face but fails to pull their spear out of my grip. I yank on it, sending them stumbling toward me. He lands on top of me with a grunt and I don¡¯t give him a moment to react before I grab his head and headbutt him, denting his helm.

    Saints damn it all, this would be so much easier if I could have a moment to catch my breath! The bastards are keeping me on the ground, where I can¡¯t leverage my full strength against them. Geneva! What are you doing while these bastards harass your summoner?

    [I am engaged defending your sun.] Because when challenged, of course Alana jumped into the fight. On one hand, I¡¯m glad she trusts us enough to keep her safe in the middle of this but on the other hand, she¡¯s a point of vulnerability that limits what my succubi can do. [Would you prefer I stop?]

    I almost look in her direction but stop myself. Done that enough times in this fight to realize distractions cost. No, keep on her, but this is annoying.

    [Then do something about it. Or grit your teeth and bear it until we¡¯ve finished with the others.] Her words are punctuated by a loud explosion, a wave of heat turning the snow around me into slurry.

    Suddenly, the dead hunter is pulled off me, dragged through the snow by his ankle. I jump to my feet, channeling a spell. Expecting something to knock me off my feet in seconds, a burst of wind extends from me. It¡¯s just strong enough to disperse most of the force of the fireball aimed at me and gives me a moment, a single moment, to take in my surroundings.

    I¡¯m surrounded. The fodder fighters are dead, lost in the initial chaos of the all-out brawl. All that¡¯s left is the competent ones, the weaker hunters held together by the named hunters directing them. Half a dozen of their eyes glow, preparing to launch spells as someone in full plate carrying a large shield rushes me.

    I can last. I can bear it. Take the beating until the others finish off the rest. It might be the smarter move, as it¡¯d allow me to keep my secrets.

    There¡¯s one problem. I¡¯m angry. There¡¯s only so many times I can have my nose ground into the dirt, literally, before my patience is thinned. This wasn¡¯t part of the plan but I think I¡¯m the only one who cares about that. Kierra¡­saints, I don¡¯t know what she cares about right now. Alana is focused on winning. Not to mention, the longer this goes on, the larger the chance that a mistake is made or something unexpected puts Alana in danger.

    So I make a decision.

    I run toward the shield wielder but before we collide, I leap over them. Something they expect as they throw out their hand and a thick, black chain wraps around my ankle. They don¡¯t expect my solid leg to turn to purple ooze and slip from its hold before reforming to flesh.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    I land in the snow. One moment before someone else tries something to knock me down. I need to break their formation. If they¡¯re not systematically controlling my movements, I can take them out easily.

    Touching the part of my mind that allows me to change my form with ease, I search for the biggest one available. I smile as the form comes to mind and mentally will myself to take its shape.

    But there¡¯s resistance. Something new. Instinctively, I know that it¡¯s too big. I don¡¯t have enough ooze to complete the transformation. I don¡¯t have time to search for something new so I take a part of it. That¡¯s acceptable and in a breath, the transformation is complete.

    ¡°Ahh! AHHH!¡±

    ¡°What the fuck?!¡±

    ¡°Saints protect¡ª¡±

    That¡¯s all they have time to say before the tentacle large enough to stretch the length of the capital it seems sprouts from my back, sweeps across the field, crushing the hunters like a palm squashing insects. The next moment it¡¯s gone. I couldn¡¯t move with such a heavy weight unbalancing me. For the moment I had it, the limb was unbearably heavy. The full creature must be ginormous.

    But that¡¯s something to think about later. The shield wielder, stunned by the sudden transformation and the loss of their comrades, is unprepared for me. They aren¡¯t meant to take me down, just keep me contained while the others launch their spells.

    Without those spells, without others behind them, they¡¯re just a metal target.

    I slam into them. Amazingly, they bear the brunt of my attack without flinching. Or not so surprising. They wouldn¡¯t have been chosen for this role if they couldn¡¯t do so.

    [Hold your breath, my summoner.]

    The ground rumbles as a chain wraps around my throat, pulling my head back. That¡¯s all it can manage against my strength. From the corner of my eyes, I see a wave of dirt and ice rising above the circle, tall us to cover us all. Kierra is fighting on the crest of the wave, grappling with another hunter.

    Looking down at my opponent, I instinctively change my insides, turning everything below my neck to ooze. A passage forms from my gut and the poisonous cloud I swallowed earlier is spewed forth. My opponent¡¯s armor does nothing to stop it. The poor woman, I realize from her voice, has a moment to scream but she quickly begins to gurgle. The chain around my neck slackens as a wave of earth buries us and the small cloud of gas.

    I easily manage to hold my breath until the earth settles. Then, nails transformed to the claws of a mamaroon, I claw my way to the surface¡ª

    My body goes numb as my vision twists. I was just looking at the sky and now I¡¯m on my side, eyes parallel with the ground. There¡¯s something sticking out of it. A long neck that ends in a clean cut, exposing bloody meat and a hint of white bone. Is that¡­

    ¡°Fucking finally,¡± a voice says.

    ¡°I thought she¡¯d never die. Why did you take so long?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that. She wouldn¡¯t be dead at all if not for me. Fire doesn¡¯t burn her, nothing can pierce her skin, our strongest fighter couldn¡¯t crush her. On top of all that, the space around her is weird. That spell consumed way too much mana. I had to get it right.¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯ve got enough for the elf. She¡¯s just as impossible to put down.¡±

    With a thought, I relax. My awareness shifts from my severed head back to my body as I revert to ooze. My fatal wound is transformed into a small inconvenience, as my head reverts to a small piece of me.

    ¡°Oi. Oi oi oi, what the fuck?¡±

    This is a secret that wasn¡¯t meant to be shared. At least not to this extent. Who would have expected that they had a null caster? I pull myself out of the earth and move toward my severed piece. It¡¯s a simple matter who reabsorb it. Then I transform into my prime form.

    A sharp intake of breath draws my attention to two hunters. The man in the blue robe and a hunter with a sword in his hand. The one with the sword squeals when he notices my attention and turns to run. An instinctive reaction. After all, there¡¯s nowhere he can go. But, since he¡¯s not an issue, I turn to the null caster. I¡¯m too used to the Hall. His blue robe led me to believe he was a water caster.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he mutters. Then a knife goes through his skull.

    I turn to see Kierra walking toward me, clothes torn, covered in blood, and holding two hunters in an extra pair of hands. She tosses the corpses away and the arms retract with a disturbing show of rippling flesh. She palms one of her knives, tossing it up and down. The smile on her face is beatific and endlessly aggravating.

    ¡°Good, my love? The blue one got in a nice hit.¡±

    ¡°You mean taking my head off?¡± I snap. Her smile stays in place which only aggravates me further so I turn away, scanning the rest of the battlefield.

    It seems everything¡¯s over. Only one enemy is on their feet. Well, their knees. The man Zachariah called upon to defend his shredded reputation is on his knees. Geneva stands behind him, holding his arms to his sides and his head back with her tail wrapped around his forehead.

    Alana stands before him, dirty and scraped but whole, with her radiant sword pressed against his neck. At her feet sits Bell, who is showing signs of exhaustion, head drooping but eyes alert.

    ¡°It¡¯s over?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Kierra moves toward me but I edge away. ¡°All that¡¯s left is the final blow.¡±

    The moment drags on before the man scoffs. Despite his many injuries, the tall man doesn¡¯t so much as grimace show and his voice is calm despite his impending death. ¡°You¡¯ve brought some real monsters here, girl.¡±

    ¡°Are those your final words?¡± she asks.

    ¡°No. Don¡¯t war with your brother. With both of you, Victory will be stronger than ever.¡±

    ¡°After he just tried to have me killed?¡±

    ¡°You were supposed to reject that condition.¡±

    ¡°And allow his strategist to guide the hunters into battle?¡±

    ¡°Would it have made a difference?¡±

    ¡°No but Ollie is a much greater lost than you.¡¯

    He chuckles. ¡°To think anyone ever said you aren¡¯t a James¡­he won¡¯t forgive you for this.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take responsibility for my actions. Just like you both must take responsibility for yours.¡±

    She swings her sword and decapitates him in one smooth stroke. Unfortunately, Zach¡¯s man isn¡¯t me. He can¡¯t just shrug off the fatal wound. His corpse falls to the earth and it doesn¡¯t get back up.

 ARC 6-Winter War-80

    There should be chaos. Over fifty people were just killed in an explosion of magic and violence. They saw me, who is only meant to have a fire affinity, transform multiple times with a speed and ease that not even a pure affinity can explain satisfactorily. They watched me recover from having my head removed. Bell rearranged the field and there¡¯s no telling what other secrets the succubi revealed.

    There should be chaos.

    Instead, there is only silence. The crowd, unharmed despite the spells being thrown about, though I suppose the Victory knights are more than capable of defending themselves, may as well be statues. They are still and quiet despite the momentous conclusion of the March. They don¡¯t even rise from their seats to get a better look at the carnage.

    A few people have tight expressions or their hands over their mouths. Other hunters, those not committed to the March, I imagine. But they limit their reactions to frowns, furrowed brows, and a few dropped jaws. Forced to restrain themselves by the heavy air and quiet expectations of the moment.

    It¡¯s hard to tell the duke¡¯s reaction under his helm. Despite her heavy cloak, I can tell Eleanor is tense, with good reason, and Kalise has let a few excited curses slip, but the lord of the north is unreadable as he steps into the middle of the Witness Circle.

    ¡°The March is concluded,¡± he announces. ¡°The Tome clan is victorious, the fallen never to rise again. Yet, the war is not over after the blood is spilled. The dead must be collected and the spoils must be reaped. They may be outsiders but the hunters of Quest are not exempt from our traditions. A debt must always be paid. And Victory never forgets its debts.¡±

    I would have thought the fight would cowl the eldest James son. That he wouldn¡¯t have the audacity to draw more attention to himself. But he does. With my eyes on Alana while thinking tumultuous thoughts, I notice him as he takes a step forward and inhales deeply. This useless, stubborn, contemptuous idiot has the guts to speak up after this mess?

    I¡¯m too astonished to do anything but gape at him. Luckily, the members of my household haven¡¯t completely abandoned our initial plan as before he can utter a word, Geneva is there, cutting him off with a hand on the back of his throat. Eleanor turns but she is stopped by Kalise extending her short sword. ¡°I told you to stop trying to interfere.¡±

    ¡°Move, you animal,¡± the other woman snaps.

    ¡°Calm your frigid tits, ice princess. This is between the kittens. Look, the creature isn¡¯t even hurting your boy. Just helping him keep his mouth shut, something you should have done.¡±

    ¡°I would watch my tone if I were you, swamp creature. With your children grown and gone, there is nothing stopping me from drowning you in whatever bog your people slithered out from.¡±

    ¡°Fecking ancestors, don¡¯t get me excited mama cat. You know how long I¡¯ve been wanting you to try? Or are you oiling me up for tonight? Getting adventurous in your later years? Our husband might collapse, bwahaha!¡±

    ¡°You disgust me.¡±

    ¡°Father.¡± Alana¡¯s voice distracts me from the bickering wives. She isn¡¯t smiling, she never smiles in the presence of her family and this tense situation wouldn¡¯t be the exception, but there is an energy about her. An excitement. The glow of victory, made all the sweeter because of who she¡¯s won against. She¡¯s been waiting for this moment all her life.

    I want to be happy for her. Really, I should be celebrating with her. I¡¯ve earned more than she has today. Yet, for some reason, and for the first time, seeing her bright blue eyes is annoying me. ¡°The Tome clan wishes to see to the collection of their spoils with me as overseer.¡±

    ¡°Then so be it. Know you have Victory behind you and bear the weight of the James name with your every action.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    The duke dips his head in a solemn nod. ¡°The fighting is done for today but the war continues. The blood of the fallen pleases the ancestors. Their blessing will be the strongest it¡¯s been in years. We will push further than we ever have and we will make the hordes of the north fear us. Victory or death.¡±

    As one, the spectators, minus the stunned hunters, stand and slam their fists to their chests twice. The duke turns and walks toward the entrance from whence we came. Pushing aside Kalise, Eleanor falls in right behind him, the chuckling barbarian jogging to catch up to her. After sparing a poisonous glance at the body of his bannerman, Zach, released from Geneva¡¯s grip, swallows and follows them.

    Then the chaos hits.

    The knights leap down from their seats. A small group goes about cleaning, piling bodies and smoothing the field. The rest converge on us, the winners. The knights who crowd Kierra offer congratulations swiftly followed by inquiries about her abilities as a melder. Those around Geneva remark on the accuracy of her spells and ask about variables. The group around Alana are more polite and ask about her plans to collect her due.

    Of course, I¡¯m not exempt from the attention. Men and women in armor and fur surround me, offering congratulations. Asking me questions about my abilities. Questioning what spell allowed me to sprout the titanic limb that decimated several competent hunters instantly. Wondering about my affinities when it was rumored I only had one. Invitations to visit and outright join several orders.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Past their bulk and numbers, I meet Alana¡¯s gaze. Her features are set in their usual stern mask but she offers me a small smile when she notices my attention. It quickly wilts as I turn away.

    I push through the crowd of knights who thankfully have enough experience with powerful people and their tempers not to get in my way. With a few angry stomps, I leave the March, the madness, and my lovers behind.

    -

    ¡°Lou?¡±

    Sometime later, Alana finds me lying on her bed, brooding. Kierra enters behind her, stepping past the hesitant blond to lie on the bed. I roll off as she climbs onto the sheets. A slim brow rises at my action. ¡°How rare for you to refuse a bed with me, dedia.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t dedia me,¡± I hiss. I look between her and Alana, who is watching me warily as she leans against the door. Geneva and Bell aren¡¯t here but I soon come to the conclusion that they¡¯re out corralling the hunters. Letting them know that they¡¯ve fallen under Alana¡¯s purview, a privilege won with the blood of their comrades.

    Thinking of her furthering her agendas while I lied in bed, angrily fretting over the repercussions of today, makes my lip curl. I almost bring my elementals back but no. I don¡¯t want to hinder Alana but we are going to have a talk.

    ¡°You said they could surrender,¡± I say, deciding to start with my future wife. I¡¯m sure if I want to express my grievances to Kierra, words are not going to be used much. ¡°You said if they surrendered, they would live.¡±

    ¡°They were supposed to,¡± she says quickly. ¡°If we broke their will to fight, Zach would have to intervene, I knew that. He could have asked for a symbolic end. A representative of the hunters would have needed to die to satisfy the ancestors and the others would have needed to swear oaths of fealty, to you, something we could have chosen not to enforce. That¡¯s what he should have done. We win, earn a few favors, and Zach salvages a little of his reputation by cutting his losses.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what happened,¡± I bite out.

    ¡°How was I to know he would push forward like an idiot?! Both of you had already demonstrated your strength. He had to know victory wasn¡¯t assured, even before you showed your secrets, and the hunters were already demoralized. He was supposed to retreat.¡±

    ¡°Because Victory has a history of making rational decisions and retreating in the face of overwhelming odds,¡± I say sarcastically. She scowls. Normally, I¡¯d be quick to soothe her but my temper has hold of me.

    ¡°I was just as shocked as you, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Really? I couldn¡¯t tell with you pushing right along with the fight.¡±

    ¡°He was the only one that could have stopped it! If I did, it would have made me look weak¡ª"

    ¡°Weak?! Kierra made a man claw his own skin off. We have plans to be the first to conquer a piece of the north. In a month, this whole place will worship the ground you walk on and you¡¯re telling me you went ahead with that bullshit because you thought you¡¯d look weak?!¡±

    She flinches from my words and some of my anger cools. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand, Alana. What happened to kicking down doors and punishing villains? Righting wrongs, regardless of the consequences? Are you going to tell me you don¡¯t think what happened today wasn¡¯t wrong? Or do the rules not apply when it comes to your family?¡±

    ¡°Why does this bother you so?¡± While Alana¡¯s mouth moves without making sound, Kierra is the one who answers me. ¡°Do not tell me you care for those fools. They made themselves prey. I know you were hesitant to reveal your claws but it is done now. And all shall see you for the glorious conqueror you are.¡±

    My jaw flexes as I try to find the words that will break through the muscles on her brain. ¡°Maybe wanting to keep my secrets was childish and unnecessary. Just like my previous fear of royals. Just like how I clung to my human form for so long, how I still cling to it when I could become exponentially stronger without it.¡± According to my succubi, at least. ¡°But saints witness, for good or ill, they were mine. And you had no right to take them from me!¡±

    The elf sits up, eyes narrowing. Good, it seems she understands how upset I am. ¡°Why this, my love? I have always pushed you. We have fought but we have never warred. What about these prey has angered you so?¡±

    I want to scream that it should be obvious. But, as her glare pins me in place, I calm down. I did a lot of thinking when I was on my own, also wondering why this event in particular bothers me so much. I take a deep breath before I start talking, feeling a faint twinge in my chest.

    ¡°For a long time, I was pathetic. Useless. I never thought I would accomplish anything. I would tell myself that it was because there was no point. If I had any talent, if I tried my best and did something of note, the Grimoires would have been there to smack me down. Grind my ambitions to dust. For most of my life, the best I could aspire to was popping out a few brats to carry on the Tome line and instilling in them the proper humility to ensure they survived without being eaten alive by the nobles of the kingdom.

    ¡°I¡¯d given up by the time I found myself on the King¡¯s Road that fateful day. But before that, when I was still young enough to believe in stories and heroes, I wished someone would save me. Would rescue me from my drab and dour life. I didn¡¯t want to be spirited away into a lap of luxury. Even as a girl, I knew too much of the world to expect that. What I wanted was a chance. For someone to see something more in me. To give the slightest bit of a damn. That¡¯s all.

    ¡°Then I became the powerful. I became the person whose words could decide fates. The one with the strength to walk wherever I please and do whatever I want. And those hunters? They¡¯re me. The old, pathetic, pitiful me. I¡¯m not a hero. Saints, not even I¡¯m shameless enough to call myself a good person. But I wanted to be better. I wanted to be the one who gave the slightest bit of a damn and you, both of you, denied me that.

    ¡°You got what you wanted. And I love making you both happy. Live for it, really. I¡¯m a begging, simpering puppy when it comes to you both and am very comfortable with that. But¡­dammit, you knew I was uncomfortable with this! You both knew it and you didn¡¯t give a damn about me! Just like the rest of them!¡±

    If I was my old self, I¡¯d be panting for breath at the end of my rant. This body doesn¡¯t strain itself so easily but my shoulders are tense and my face flushed with heat. The lingering silence grows heavier by the moment. Suddenly, I feel more exposed than I ever have, despite walking around without a stitch of clothing on multiple occasions. Their eyes are too much.

    ¡°I have to go.¡±

    ¡°Lou¡ª"

    ¡°Let her go, little star.¡± Alana looks to Kierra. I can¡¯t see the look they share but from how Alana¡¯s expression rapidly shifts, it must be profound, a whole conversation spoken without words. Alana shifts to the side. The next moment, I am through the door, quickly stomping through the James manor.

 ARC 6-Winter War-81-Alana

    ¡°Why did you stop me?¡± Alana snapped at the elf lounging on her bed.

    ¡°Because your next words to her should not be spoken lightly.¡± Kierra shifted onto her side, holding her head in a palm as she closed her eyes. Despite the lingering tension, the older woman looked unbothered. Alana didn¡¯t know if she was really unaffected or if she was just a phenomenal actor who didn¡¯t want to show her distress. Alana didn¡¯t have any hope of hiding how she felt. Her heart was in distress and it felt like someone was tying her stomach in knots.

    Her whole life, the James family meant everything to her. As a child, she admired them, like every other child of Victory. As a young girl, once she was old enough to do the thankless work of a servant, her admiration turned to sour longing as her mother whispered of her suspect parentage. As a young adult, her sour longing turned to bitter determination, all her strength and focus turned to carving out a place for herself amongst the titans of the north.

    Even being dismissed to the Grand Hall served the purpose of proving herself to her family. She saw it as a single step on her journey of conquering the Peaks. Every spell she learned, every contact she made, all of it was meant for her glorious future as a knight of Victory.

    What had drawn her to Lou was the noblewoman¡¯s freedom. Her absolute abhorrence to constraints of any kind, rather they be for good or ill. She¡¯d reject the crown itself to escape any responsibility to the kingdom and its people.

    At the beginning, Alana found it annoying. It was frustrating to see someone flutter about without a single concern in her head, committing one thoughtless action after another without repercussions. Even more frustrating to watch the same woman grow in power with the voracity of a well-nourished weed.

    Yet, Alana couldn¡¯t leave her alone. Not when Lou seemed so¡­unprepared for the trials of life. She was married to an elf with a pure affinity, a resource that could be levied to win her a duchy if she cared to play the games of nobles, and yet she panicked when a little noble started to cause problems and nearly fainted under the attention of a prince. She was strong, physically stronger than anyone Alana knew, with enough talent to shame the next Harvest Hero, but also weak in many ways. Unassumingly competent yet harmfully unambitious. Incredibly bold and incredibly cautious.

    Lou stoked Alana¡¯s protective nature and satisfied her inner princess that wanted a dashing hero, though Lou didn¡¯t quite fit that role, to save her. That didn¡¯t mention that Lou was attractive. Very attractive. And the sex. That was¡­

    That alone would have been enough for Alana. Enough, maybe, to make her forget about Victory and the seemingly impossible task of winning her father¡¯s approval. She had thought of it many times before. Dreamed of leaving behind the cold and expectations.

    But then Lou had offered to make her dreams reality. To help her not only claw her way into her family but to destroy their attitudes toward her. To grind the whole of Victory under her heel under the same suffocating pressure she¡¯d toiled under for years. The idea was intoxicating.

    She could think of nothing else. She¡¯d thrown away her reservations and her caution, done things she could never imagine doing before. Because she believed in Lou. Believed her when she said that she would give her everything.

    With her eyes so focused on Victory, she¡¯d lost sight of the one giving her her dreams. She¡¯d forgotten Lou. No, she¡¯d never forgotten her but she had put her considerations to the side. Blatantly ignored them. Taken for granted her selflessness when it came to the women she loved.

    She¡¯d never considered the Lou who gave so freely could be hurt. No, that sounded ridiculous when she thought it. Of course she could be hurt. But Alana hadn¡¯t cared as long as she finally won. An empty victory. All the joy of embarrassing her brother had been ripped away and replaced with ice when Lou stormed out of the room.

    ¡°I have to go after her.¡± She couldn¡¯t let Lou think she didn¡¯t care. She cared. So much, she¡¯d refused to admit how she felt for months because her feelings had surprised her. As if she¡¯d do half the things they¡¯d gotten up to with someone she didn¡¯t love. Someone she didn¡¯t trust implicitly, at least with herself.

    Victory would always be there. The Bleak Peaks, the Lords of Winter. They¡¯d be waiting whenever Alana decided she wanted to walk the same path as a hundred James before her. But there was only one Lou.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    She wasn¡¯t very experienced in love but she didn¡¯t need to be to know that what she had was special. Lou was special. It might sound shallow or naive but she felt there would never be another like the noblewoman. No one who made her feel the same way, that could offer what she offered. Saints, Geneva¡¯s cooking alone was a hurdle Alana couldn¡¯t imagine any other overcoming.

    The thought that Lou may be thinking of ending their relationship made Alana anxious enough that she could barely hold herself back from tearing the door to her room off its hinges in her haste to find her. Her feet shuffled with the desire to move. What kept her still was Kierra¡¯s warning. ¡°You¡­you think I¡¯m going to say something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Not wrong, little star,¡± the elf mumbled, clearly distracted. ¡°What you say next is important and cannot be taken back. So, you should be sure of what you want to say.¡±

    ¡°I know what I want to say.¡±

    ¡°Do you? Then, are you sure what you are prepared to do? What if our Lou demands you leave Victory tonight and never return? What if she demands your family¡¯s heads on pikes? Will you acquiesce? Or will you hesitate? I should tell you, hesitation will be taken as its own answer. If you do not want unspoken words to make a decision for you, you should know exactly what you want to say before you seek her out.¡±

    Alana frowned deeply. It should¡¯ve been easy. She loved Lou. She might not be able to say it without getting embarrassed and looking away but they both knew it.

    She wanted Lou much more than she wanted the cold and unforgiving Victory. But when she thought about abandoning her home, despite knowing on one level there was no contest between her two choices, there was unmistakable reluctance there. It was annoying. Since when was she so indecisive? ¡°Do you know what you want to say?¡¯

    ¡°No. That is why I am here thinking rather than running after her.¡±

    Hoping for answers to her own doubts, she asked, ¡°What are you thinking about?¡±

    ¡°I am thinking about my conqueror. I am thinking about what she has shown and what she has hidden. What she has said and what she hasn¡¯t. The differences between my kind and humans¡­and our similarities. I am thinking about our future.¡±

    ¡°Are you¡­are you thinking about leaving?¡±

    The elf¡¯s eyes snapped open, narrowed in a glare. ¡°No.¡±

    The word was hissed with a fierceness that made Alana flinch. ¡°I was¡ªI didn¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°Just because we are a little different does not mean I do not love her.¡±

    ¡°Of course¡ª"

    ¡°We are unified. Till death. I made an oath. She is mine. Do you think one disagreement is enough to destroy everything we are? If so, you underestimate me, her, and what it means to love.¡±

    Alana bobbed her head and nearly held up her hands in surrender. Kierra wasn¡¯t nearly as unaffected by Lou¡¯s outburst as her placid features would suggest. ¡°Okay. I didn¡¯t mean to suggest¡­¡± She trailed off, letting out a deep breath.

    ¡°Perhaps it is your own fears you speak of.¡±

    Alana flinched again. ¡°I¡­¡±

    ¡°She will not leave over a single argument. Lou is loyal. Like a hound. It is amusing she made the same comparison. Perhaps she is more self-aware than I thought. Or maybe this mess has been a cause for reflection.¡± Eyes more green than gold speared Alana. ¡°Perhaps you also need time for reflection.¡±

    Alana hesitated until Kierra tapped the bed beside her. She laid down as Kierra turned, putting them face to face. ¡°Can¡¯t you just tell me how to handle this?¡± she grumbled. ¡°You¡¯re the oldest and it sounds like you have experience. How old are you anyway?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re avoiding the question. Guess some things transcend race.¡±

    ¡°What things?¡±

    ¡°A woman being uncomfortable about her age.¡± It had been one of the few things that annoyed Eleanor. Not that Alana was brave enough to annoy her on a frequent basis.

    ¡°Hm. I suppose I am¡­conscience of my age but not in the way you think. In the provinces, the older a fighter, the greater their assumed strength. Rather than being too old, I do not like speaking my age because I am too young.¡±

    ¡°How young is too young?¡±

    ¡°You are focusing on unimportant things.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s helping.¡±

    Kierra huffed. ¡°Eighty-seven years.¡±

    Alana gaped at her. She¡¯d always known that the elf was older than them but she¡¯d always imagined it was by a few years. A decade maybe but no more than two. Kierra was several decades older than them. She was older than her father. It was difficult to imagine. She didn¡¯t quite know what it meant, if it meant anything, and she certainly didn¡¯t know how to respond to the revelation, or if she should respond. So she settled for, ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°I am rather young. My kind naturally live longer than humans. Without any rejuvenation, we can live for two centuries before our bodies begin to show signs of decline. The strong are treasured. The talented are rejuvenated, their lifespans extended far longer. There are many in Dusk who fought and lived through your Great War.¡±

    ¡°Wow.¡± That was something to think about. ¡°Guess you would feel young compared to them.¡±

    ¡°What do you want, little sun?¡±

    It seemed the time for distractions had passed. ¡°Lou.¡±

    ¡°Just Lou?¡±

    ¡°Well, no. Uh, you too.¡± She cleared her throat, face flushed. ¡°Our house, or clan. Our future. All the things she¡¯s promised.¡± And a few things Alana had yet to speak on, too embarrassed.

    ¡°Do you want it more than you want Victory?¡±

    Alana swallowed. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°What are you willing to sacrifice for it?¡±

    That was the question. In place of an answer, she asked, ¡°What are you?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-82

    Unfortunately, my short tour of the James estate didn¡¯t include any good places to disappear from loved ones for a few hours. My verbal explosion leaves me feeling relieved, drained, and incredibly embarrassed. It¡¯s obvious I¡¯m going to have to talk to them, if only because I hate the thought of finding another place to sleep tonight, but I need a place of quiet until the thought stops making me feel nauseous.

    In the end, I settle for the back of the estate, plopping down in the snow with my back against the thick ice that comprises the gate circling the house. I figure it¡¯s late and cold enough that no one will chance upon me. The night sky, full of stars slightly obscured by fluffy clouds, is also a good backdrop to my currently dramatic life.

    Saints, what was I thinking? I wasn¡¯t wrong but that could have been handled better. I keep seeing Alana¡¯s face before I ran out. The outward shock and the subdued fear. I didn¡¯t look at Kierra. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d feel better or worse if she wore a similar expression.

    My breath fogs as I sigh heavily. With time and distance, I have a better grasp of my feelings. For one, I hate this place. I haven¡¯t seen all it has to offer but I¡¯m confident in my summation that Victory is horrible. A few careless words and fifty people were locked into a deathmatch, the fate of hundreds more on the line. All because they were led astray by one of the leaders of the fort, the favored heir himself.

    And what were the residents¡¯ response to a bloodbath and a boggling use of magic? A slap on the back and invitations to join them for a bigger slaughter.

    Victory is a morbid, dour, bloodthirsty place. It¡¯s too cold and too gray. The people here are all mentally damaged. Worse, it¡¯s infectious. Alana seems to be slowly losing herself the longer we¡¯re here. Saints know what she¡¯ll become by the time the campaign is finished. Ah, maybe that¡¯s a bit unfair. She made no secret of how she felt about her home. I just didn¡¯t think it¡¯d have such a powerful sway over her.

    And my wife. That damn elf. She¡¯s made even less of a secret of her nature but never has it annoyed me as much as it did today. She has the worst timing. Or maybe that was the point. She chose the worst possible time to inflict the most stress.

    It worked. Better than she might have wanted. I¡¯m not certain how I feel about it. A part of me is angry and another is resigned, having accepted her and her role in my life. But both parts can agree on one thing. Never again. Not like that. I¡¯m determined. Not sure what shape such a conversation will take but it¡¯s going to happen.

    The sound of a door opening interrupts my thoughts. I would have ignored if it wasn¡¯t accompanied by the soft crunch of a foot stepping onto snow, moving in my direction. Against all expectation, someone is about to wander upon me. Or maybe this meeting isn¡¯t so accidental. Is it¡­no. A quick sniff tells me it¡¯s neither of my lovers or my elementals. Though Rolly is probably around, watching the show with immense pleasure.

    I don¡¯t bother investigating further. I¡¯m in no mood to entertain whoever it is and will soon send them on their way. There¡¯s plenty on my mind without holding a polite smile while someone cheers on some of the most pointless death I¡¯ve ever witnessed, let alone had the displeasure to be a part of. To think this all started from a simple favor to a friend.

    ¡°You are strong but it is unwise to challenge the prowess of the wind.¡±

    I startle, eyes snapping open to find the duke himself standing over me. He¡¯s still wearing his heavy blue cloak lined with white fur but his helm is missing. With snow liberally covering his head and speckled on his beard, he looks as if he belongs more to winter than men. His cold blue eyes, so similar yet so different from Alana¡¯s, look down on me impassively.

    If this were the old me, his presence and sense of power would have prodded me to stand, head bowed and feet shuffling as I frantically wondered how to navigate this conversation without losing my head. These days, I¡¯m confident enough in my own power not to fear for my life but I am still uncomfortable as I look up at him. ¡°I don¡¯t even feel the cold.¡±

    His broad shoulders rise and fall as he lets out a deep breath. ¡°I have known warriors that have done the same. They had the melders make it so they felt no cold but it meant they also couldn¡¯t feel the warmth of the hearth. They felt no pain but they also couldn¡¯t feel their wives¡¯ touch. Soon, they felt nothing at all. It drove them all mad, without exception.¡±

    ¡­okay? ¡°My melder is better than that. I can feel the cold. Just not bothered by it¡­your grace.¡±

    ¡°Do not bother with pleasantries. One of the many lessons I have learned is that there is no point in standing on ceremony with someone who can kill you.¡±

    I stiffen.

    ¡°Calm yourself. That was not a threat nor do I feel threatened by you. It is simply best we know where we stand.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re that confident in my abilities?¡±

    ¡°A null caster took off your head and your reaction was annoyance.¡±

    I wince at the reminder of my exposed secrets. Not that surprised the duke has come seeking me out. I would want answers too. ¡°I¡¯m not telling you anything and my wife¡¯s not available, not even to you. So we know where we stand.¡±

    ¡°Then it is good I have not come for your secrets or your wife.¡±

    I frown as I stare up at him. ¡°Then what are you here for?¡±

    The duke slowly crouches so I no longer have to stare up at him. He¡¯s putting us on equal footing. No, he¡¯s been doing so from the beginning. This isn¡¯t a lord talking to a visitor to his realm. But what is it? One fighter speaking to another? A father speaking to the woman brought home by his daughter?

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°You are an asset to Victory and humanity. No mere knight, but a champion that comes along once in many generations. The equivalent of the first saint, not the imitations that came after. But you are not resolved. The March unnerved you.¡±

    I don¡¯t bother to hold back my scowl. ¡°Yes. How terrible of me for not glorifying that nonsense.¡±

    ¡°You are upset because you are lost. You don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°What is there to understand? Your son didn¡¯t like Alana coming back with some sharp teeth and a cocky swagger so he tried to slap her down and failed spectacularly. The hunters, his chosen weapon, suffered the consequences.¡±

    ¡°They are not without blame.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. They¡¯re idiots. But a lot of people are idiots. That¡¯s why there are lords and kings. You¡¯re supposed to stop them from tearing each other apart. When the rulers are plotting their demise, then the poor bastards really don¡¯t stand a chance, do they?¡±

    ¡°I suppose they do not.¡±

    We lapse into silence. It¡¯s strangely comfortable. While the duke has a strong presence, it isn¡¯t demanding or overbearing. At least, for me. I have no desire to prove myself to him so I¡¯m content to lounge against the gate.

    ¡°The leader of Victory must be three things.¡±

    I glance over at the duke. He is still crouched but his gaze is turned to the sky. ¡°Do you know what they are?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Humor me.¡±

    I don¡¯t want to but the novelty of the situation is compelling. I doubt I will be having many heart-to-hearts with him in the future, even after I marry his daughter. With a shrug, I give the first answer that comes to mind. ¡°Strong, stubborn, and stern.¡±

    ¡°You did not say wise. Or fair. Or just.¡±

    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t see any of that today.¡±

    ¡°Because those are not needed. Desired, yes, but not needed. Strength and will are paramount. That is what I have taught my son. That is why he could not retreat. But this will serve as a good lesson. That charging in recklessly has consequences.¡±

    I don¡¯t believe this bastard! ¡°So all those lives were needed to teach your son a lesson?¡± A spanking could have accomplished the same thing in a fraction of the time for a fraction of the pain.

    ¡°Better he lose fifty than thousands.¡±

    That¡­that wasn¡¯t a bad point. It annoys me that I think that.

    ¡°Zach has led forces on the campaigns but in name only, a smaller contingent a part of a larger force under the command of a more experienced commander. Before he takes responsibility for the lives of Victory¡¯s knights, truly, he needs restraint. To learn to look twice before charging head. To march against death, not because he can¡¯t fathom losing, but because he knows the fear of death but has the will to march against it anyways.¡±

    ¡°And I suppose Alana and I should be thankful we could assist you in raising your heir.¡±

    ¡°It was a lesson for Alana as well.¡±

    I perk up, far more engaged in the conversation. ¡°What?¡±

    The duke¡¯s gaze turns back to me. ¡°I gave her the opportunity. And she exploited it, crushing her opponent without mercy. She proved herself a James¡­and a worthy candidate to lead Victory. Even without that, her connection to you and your wife would be enough. Your clan will cut a swath through the north. The knights will worship her for that. If she has the wherewithal to lead as well? They will follow her to the Abyss itself and they will be unstoppable.¡±

    I scowl, hating the way he talks of her. ¡°What if she doesn¡¯t want this place? What if she chooses something different?¡±

    ¡°She is a James. She will always choose Victory.¡±

    ¡°How convenient. She¡¯s your daughter now that she has some value.¡±

    His eyes are cold as ice, his expression unmoved. ¡°If she did not prove herself strong, it would be a mercy to send her away. I gave her the choice. She came back. And so, she will live with the consequences of her actions.¡±

    I click my tongue. There¡¯s no point in talking with this fanatic.

    ¡°It was the same for me, my father, and my father¡¯s father. So it will be until the north is conquered. It can be no other way.¡±

    Something about the conviction in his voice draws my attention. Or¡­ah. That¡¯s not conviction. It¡¯s resignation. Maybe even anger. Mixed in with his stout belief and pride, of course. He speaks as if the James family¡¯s obligation to Victory is a chain. A comfortable chain but chain nonetheless.

    ¡°There are old ways that have been forgotten. In the time of the ancestors, vows and oaths meant more than words. As a summoner, you understand bonds can be formed of magic and intent. The James family will conquer the north or die trying. It is as certain as the mountains we march past every winter.

    ¡°Alana is drawn to Victory. To walk away would destroy her. To walk toward it will fulfill her in a way nothing else can. I had to be sure of it, that the blood was strong enough. I should have known better than to second guess. The James blood is always strong.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me to get out of the way?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you that you can still be happy.¡±

    I blink slowly, trying to control my shock as the cold man¡­softens. It¡¯s the only word I can use to describe the change in his demeanor. It¡¯s nothing physical. His features are still flat, his broad shoulders tense, but his presence¡­shrinks. It¡¯s difficult to describe but I can feel it, instinctually. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°A James is their duty. They cannot escape it. It is a hard life but it need not be an unhappy one. In my youth I had my passions, of which Alana is the result. When I grew older, and the fighting slowed, I had my wives. A hobby or two.¡±

    Saints, I can¡¯t imagine this man with any hobbies.

    ¡°In my old age, if I don¡¯t die to some beast, I will watch my children build their own legacies. Grandchildren. I¡¯ve heard the older knights enjoy them very much. Yulianna keeps her son out of my reach. She fears for his future but there is no running from your blood.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± I finally ask, very weirded out by this unexpected conversation.

    ¡°You make Alana happy.¡±

    Ah. ¡°¡­you approve?¡±

    ¡°Happiness is rare. It is to be grabbed, no matter its form. Truly, our lives are too short for anything else.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­¡±

    ¡°Do not let duty get in the way of happiness. She cannot give up Victory. But give her that and she will give you anything else.¡±

    Oh sweet saints. Is the duke of Victory¡­giving me love advice? It¡¯s so ridiculous I can¡¯t help smiling.

    ¡°My wives¡ª"

    ¡°Please stop.¡± I hold up my hands to forestall his next words. ¡°This is¡­interesting but I can¡¯t do it.¡± I sigh. ¡°Honestly? Since you¡¯re all about making sure everyone knows where they stand, I can¡¯t help thinking you¡¯re trying to foist your daughter onto me to further Victory¡¯s war.¡±

    He huffs. ¡°If you think Alana needs you to wage war on the winter lords, you do not know her at all.¡±

    This bastard. ¡°Hmph.¡±

    ¡°My family is so focused on the war there is no question as to what is to be done once it¡¯s won. What will we do if the James who stands at the top of the Peaks is as cold as the north inside? It will be a hollow Victory that follows.¡±

    He stands from his crouch. ¡°If your fate lies in the north, that is your fate. But do not dismiss a future because you are unsure how to walk the path.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean I have your blessing to marry her?¡±

    This whole time, I couldn¡¯t decide if the duke was speaking as a lord or as a father. My comment makes it clear. His brows twitch. That¡¯s it. If I weren¡¯t used to interpreting the muted expressions of Miss Talia, I¡¯d think nothing of it but it¡¯s made more significant by the fact that¡¯s it¡¯s the only change in his expression I¡¯ve ever seen. Even after the display we put on in the Witness Circle.

    Saints damn it all. There¡¯s a worried father underneath all that metal, fur, and stoicism.

    With a large huff, the duke rises lumbers back toward the estate, like a beast returning to its lair. Leaving me with more to think about.

 ARC 6-Winter War-83

    A part of me wishes I could linger in the snow forever. I¡¯ve gotten adept at compressing the white fluff into solid shapes. I figure I can make myself a little bed and a nice pillow. Not like sleeping in the cold will do me any harm.

    The plan has one flaw. I won¡¯t be alone for long. I¡¯m surprised Kierra hasn¡¯t already tracked me down. She¡¯s not one to leave a conflict unsettled. Sooner or later, she¡¯ll find me and¡­something will happen. I¡¯d rather it be later so I abandon my honestly uncomfortable seat in the snow and walk the fort in search of my elementals.

    I¡¯ve had my doubts but the residents of Victory are still human. The fort is a hive of activity during the day but activity has slowed to a crawl at night. My footsteps are the only ones I hear as I stomp through the snow. Only a few buildings show signs of life. There are torches lit by the stable and I make a note to visit Cloud tomorrow. Saints know how she took my performance earlier.

    The Witness Circle is quiet, all the seats empty and the grounds around it returned to normal. It¡¯s¡­comforting. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d think if I saw a group of knights gathered around, sharing drinks and swapping their thoughts on the day¡¯s festivities. The quiet gloom is fitting.

    From there, I follow my ears north. There may not be a buzz of activity but the fort is hardly sleeping. Murmurs of discontent and drunken revelry draw me to a tall building, made with the distinctive gray stone and slanted roof that are common in Victory. It¡¯s bigger than the James¡¯ estate but in this instance, bigger isn¡¯t better. It¡¯s an unattractive building, with its drab color, boxy appearance, and small, thin windows.

    From Alana¡¯s descriptions of the fort, this must be one of the bunkhouses. When the fort was founded, this was where the contingent of soldiers dispatched by the crown stayed, back when the war against the winter lords involved the whole of the kingdom. Later, when the capital divested itself of Victory¡¯s grudge, the bunkhouses hosted the overflow of knights from the many orders. After the creation of the village, the two bunkhouses sat empty for a while, used mainly for storage, until the current duke allowed more outsiders to join the yearly campaigns for a share of the spoils.

    Faint amounts of light spill from the shuttered windows. Mostly from the lowest ones. There is a constant chatter coming from the bottom floor. It¡¯s hard to pick out individual words, as all the voices blend together. The slurring and swearing, due to alcohol and anger, don¡¯t help. I stand still, trying to parse the words.

    ¡°¡ªridiculous¡ª"

    ¡°¡ªsee what she¡ª"

    ¡°¡ªelves¡ª"

    ¡°¡ªfucking idiots¡ª"

    ¡°¡ªthere¡¯s a war¡ª"

    ¡°¡ªno part of¡ª"

    ¡°¡ªcursed cowards!¡±

    [If you wish to know the minds of the hunters, you may simply ask me, my summoner.]

    Geneva whispers into my mind with the voice of a charming maiden, high and sweet. It conjures words like innocent and lovely. Completely unsuited for the treacherous schemer that she is. Or perhaps very suited. Everything about the succubus is a deception. Some days, I wonder if I understand anything about her at all¡­and if I want to.

    If I truly understood the depths of her plans for the human kingdom, and this world, I doubt I could keep her at my side. She is far too useful to let something like reason or rational caution drive her away. So, I dance on a knife¡¯s edge. Hoping she never pushes me too far. Knowing she will.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    How goes your task, my servant?

    [Very well. Once the March ended, I had a quiet word with the leaders of the hunters. Emberton was a mouthpiece for their agenda against you but had little to do with the organization of the campaign. Those leaders proved much more reasonable. All it took was a stern warning to earn their cooperation. They eagerly await your address in the morning.]

    As effective as always.

    [Is there any other way I can assist you?]

    I know what she¡¯s offering. It¡¯s disappointing that my first reflex is excitement but I stamp it down.

    [I can make it better~]

    I know you can and it¡¯s very tempting. But that way lies the end. If I let you alter my mind and the minds of those important to me just to make my life easier, I may as well lie down and live in a perfectly crafted fantasy for the rest of my life.

    [Would that be so bad? I can promise it¡¯d be enjoyable.]

    Oh, I don¡¯t doubt it. And if it were the old me, I might have taken you up on that offer. I doubt anything I could have accomplished then would have compared. Now? I have far more options available to me. And not even you can compare to the vastness of the many realms.

    [Perhaps.]

    Would you like me to ask you that question under order?

    [Would you trust my opinion?]

    Ha! A good point you make. Is there anything for me to gain by going inside?

    [There is nothing that could give you a plausible excuse for avoiding your wives.]

    ¡­right. I suppose I should face them before the beast slips its leash and mauls me.

    [A bit morose, my summoner. May I offer a piece of advice?]

    That depends. Is this advice a part of another scheme? Answer honestly.

    [Everything I do is a part of a scheme, Lou. This particular advice is a part of a scheme meant to deepen our bond. As I wish for you to think well of me, it will benefit you with no consequences you would disapprove of, to the best of my ability to predict.]

    Huh. I suppose you can share it then.

    [Be honest. It is worrying, exposing yourself to another. It makes you vulnerable. That is why deception is so prevalent amongst intelligent species across dozens of realms. Normally, showing your true self is a foolish choice. But if you want them to see you, then you must take the risk.]

    ¡­that¡¯s it?

    [Yes.]

    You¡¯re not going to tell me a line or two guaranteed to make any woman fall for me? Teach me to sing a ballad that will soothe the tension between us? Illustrate a few new positions for the bedroom for the inevitable reconciliatory sex?

    [You don¡¯t need any of those things.]

    I suppose I should be comforted by that. Keep an eye on the hunters. Send Bell back to the estate. I doubt anyone will be brave enough to challenge us again after today but I also doubted they would be stupid enough to take their grudge all the way to the north. Saints, I doubted they¡¯d be stupid enough to go along with Zach¡¯s obvious manipulation but they proved me wrong on both accounts. I have no confidence in the hunters¡¯ common sense or survival instincts.

    [You may speak with your lovers without worry. None shall disturb you.]

    After another moment of eavesdropping on the stressed hunters, I turn back, contemplating Geneva¡¯s advice. Expose myself, huh? If only she meant that in a literal way. Well, that might be one way to make sure the conversation has a positive result. Too bad it won¡¯t solve our problems.

    That¡¯s the crux of it, isn¡¯t it? There¡¯s a problem. As happy as I am with Kierra and Alana, we aren¡¯t perfect. Might be silly of me, but I couldn¡¯t imagine a relationship with two incredible women could have problems. After all, I forgive a lot when it comes to those two. But, despite our overwhelming power, potential, and magnificent destinies, we¡¯re just like everyone else in some regards.

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    I heard the crunch of snow signaling someone else is close by but didn¡¯t bother raising my head. No reason to assume whoever is wandering around at this time of night would be of any interest and I have a lot on my mind. I certainly didn¡¯t expect them to call out to me.

    I look up to see a bunny making her way toward me, everything but her face covered by a familiar dark blue cloak lined with white fur. She smiles, flashing teeth white as the constantly falling snow. She comes to a stop and raises her hands, breath fogging as she blows on them. ¡°Outsiders who come to Victory wear nice, warm gloves. I¡¯ve thought of getting a pair but I¡¯d be a laughingstock if I dared, haha.¡±

    My brows furrow as I stare at her. While a cute, friendly face is nice, I don¡¯t need to risk Alana¡¯s wrath right now. ¡°What are you doing out here, Yulia?¡±

    Her smile fades, going from bright to mysterious. ¡°I was on my way home but this must be fate. I was hoping we could talk¡­¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-84

    Out of consideration for the much more fragile bunny asking for a bit of my time, we move, standing under one of the arched entrances to the Witness Circle. It does nothing for the cold of course, but snow is no longer gently raining onto her head and that must count for something. I get a grateful smile for the effort but there¡¯s no way to tell if she¡¯s just being polite.

    ¡°Then? What was it you wanted to say?¡± Being close to where the slaughter took place and in unapproved company makes me anxious. Almost anxious enough to shuffle my feet.

    ¡°I wanted to talk about today.¡± Her blue eyes, like her father¡¯s, so similar but so different from the gaze I fell in love with, and her pursed lips speak of sympathy but I don¡¯t understand why she¡¯d turn such a look on me. I¡¯m not the one she needs to be concerned about. ¡°In Victory, they are only concerned about winning and losing. The victors are celebrated. The losers are forgotten. That is all. But I¡­ know it is not so simple. That victory does not equate to happiness. That there is a price to be paid, even by the victors.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°Look at me, rambling. There¡¯s only one thing I wanted to ask. Are you okay?¡±

    I stare at her, waiting for the real question. Or the trick. But as she holds my stare, I realize that she¡¯s serious. That¡¯s her question. And it baffles me. ¡°Yes? I¡¯m perfectly fine.¡± A hand waves at my body. ¡°No injuries.¡±

    ¡°Not physically, Lou. I know you¡¯re strong. I meant your heart. War wounds more than the body. Is your heart okay?¡±

    ¡°What¡­¡±

    A hand touches my shoulder. I freeze under her touch but she seems unbothered, her fingers trailing down arm before grabbing my own. ¡°Warm. You really are a marvel,¡± she mutters. ¡°But all the strength in the world can¡¯t protect us from the horror of death. You witnessed it. You took part in it. Death touched you and its touch is always unsettling. It can rattle the toughest knights, even after years of campaigns.¡±

    She squeezes my fingers. Her hand is cold but not uncomfortable. I still pull away. She doesn¡¯t seem at all bothered, her expression full of sympathy. ¡°I noticed you were upset. Earlier, after the battle. Before the battle too. You¡­you didn¡¯t want to kill them, did you? But my¡­family didn¡¯t give you much choice.¡±

    ¡°Your brother is a stupid selfish donkey,¡± I hiss.

    ¡°He is what Victory has forged him to be. It may not make sense to you now but there was no way he could have retreated. Maybe he could have chosen a different direction at the start but the moment he decided to challenge Alana, he could no more change his direction than a charging bull. The same goes for my sister.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t compare her to him,¡± I snap reflexively.

    ¡°Is she so different? She could have bargained for the hunters¡¯ lives. She could have stopped what could be a war with Quest, a conflict that could blossom into a war with the crown. All it would have cost her was her reputation. Hundreds, maybe thousands of lives in exchange for losing a bit of Father¡¯s favor. But she didn¡¯t do it.¡±

    Yulia raises her hands. ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand. Truly, she had as much choice as my brother. After all, she is a James as well. She only did what was natural. What she was raised for. What she was trained for.¡±

    ¡°Then why mention it?¡±

    She hesitates. I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s truly reticent or if she¡¯s purposely building the tension of the moment. I don¡¯t know what she wants or why she¡¯s here. I¡¯m this close to simply walking away but I really can¡¯t stand anyone insulting Alana. I¡¯m forced to stay and defend her, despite not quite knowing what I¡¯m defending her from. Or if I can. Or if I should. The eldest James daughter hasn¡¯t exactly spoken any lies.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°I just want you to understand. Many people come to Victory with a dream. Dreams built on stories and songs and what they imagine this place is. Those dreams are always crushed by the reality. I won¡¯t wait for you to ask me why. The answer is because the stories and the songs say that those dreams lie beyond the Peaks, in the blood of the Lords of Winter. But they don¡¯t. Our happiness is here. With our families. Working together to make the north a better place.¡±

    She sighs heavily, breath fogging. ¡°We can be more than what we¡¯ve been. And maybe, if we focused on ourselves, we would finally be in a position of strength to conquer the Peaks. There are so many other things we can be doing. Securing new mines. Establishing more villages. Forging alliances with other houses. But because of tradition, we throw ourselves at the Peaks year after year. Wasting countless resources and lives. My brother would have us do the same. So would Alana.¡±

    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± I ask. ¡°Why do you think I care?¡±

    ¡°You obviously care. Though I don¡¯t think you enjoy me pointing that out. I suppose that¡¯s enough. It¡¯s getting late and my husband will be wondering where I am. Goodnight, Lou. Please, don¡¯t hesitate to call on me if you need help. Or if you just want to talk.¡±

    I stare at her as if I¡¯m watching a strange beast as she leaves the safety of the arch, stepping out into the cold night with confidence.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    She looks over her shoulder at me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what she is,¡± I shout. ¡°I don¡¯t care if she¡¯s the worst of the lot. I¡¯ll still follow her.¡± I¡¯m not stupid and her bunny-like facade doesn¡¯t fool me. She might be hard to read but I know a recruitment offer when I hear one. I showed what I can do and now the enemy is trying to poach me.

    Her response is a gentle smile. ¡°That makes me happy to hear. I¡¯m glad she met you.¡±

    It¡¯s words like that which make me doubt my opinions of her. Is Yulia just a gentle soul in a rough land? A loving but misunderstood sister? A competent and exceptionally well disguised schemer? Or is she all the above? There¡¯s nothing to say she couldn¡¯t be a peaceful soul who wants the best for her family and is willing to scheme for the benefit of all.

    I don¡¯t like using my succubi unnecessarily. Flagrant use of the mental affinity is offensive. Worse, it reminds me of the Grimoires and I refuse to be anything like them. Hopefully, Geneva won¡¯t need to probe her mind to figure her out. Understanding Yulia grows more important by the day. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t trust Alana but experience has shown that her judgment is compromised when it comes to her family.

    Shaking my head, I head back to the estate. A young servant is waiting by the front door to let me in, giving me a sharp nod as I pass. Given the mentality of the James family, I¡¯m surprised there aren¡¯t more guards. You¡¯d think they¡¯d have armed men and women patrolling every hall but the only sign of force I¡¯ve seen is the guard on Kalise¡¯s door. Huh, wonder why she¡¯s the only one with protection.

    It¡¯s funny. Ever since I stormed out of Alana¡¯s room, I¡¯ve been dreading talking to my loved ones. Yet the closer I get, the faster my feet carry me. Awkward air or not, I still long to be near them. I can handle what promises to be an uncomfortable talk as long as I don¡¯t sleep alone.

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    Standing sentry to the side of the door is an adorable imp. I reach down and briefly nuzzle Bell. ¡°How about it? Am I walking into a monster den?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [There is no need to worry, Master Lou.]

    ¡°Mm.¡± I set the succubus down, leaving her to resume her guard duties, and face the door. I almost knock but that¡¯s not the impression I want to give. I have to take a stand here or the next time, it won¡¯t be something I can forgive. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.

    A single candle lights the room. Sprawled on the bed is Kierra, beautiful as always and completely relaxed. Though¡­maybe a bit forlorn. It¡¯s nothing overt but I notice how her fingers idly trace the space beside her. Not used to being alone, huh? Guess I wasn¡¯t the only one dreading the thought of me not coming back.

    Alana is the exact opposite. She is standing in front of her mounted sword, brooding. A familiar sight that doesn¡¯t surprise me in the least. She¡¯s always been the worrier.

    She¡¯s the first of the two to react to my entrance, even though I know Kierra had to have heard me coming. I¡¯m immediately distracted by the sight of my future¡¯s saint red eyes. Has she been crying?!

    Regret. Endless regret. Not about what I said but there had to be a better way to say it.

    I don¡¯t think about the words still unsaid as I quickly cross the room and pull her into a hug. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± And I mean it. Things need to be said and changes have to be made but it¡¯s nothing to fear. I wouldn¡¯t hurt her. I could never.

    As always, Alana melts at the first sign of affection. Her arms go around my waist as she lays her head on my shoulder. ¡°Lou¡­¡± She trails off, holding me tighter.

    There¡¯s a rustling and I turn my head to see Kierra sitting up. I didn¡¯t expect any signs of tears, I¡¯ve never seen her cry outside of that single time in the Enchanted Forest, but her gaze is intense.

    ¡°Once again, we must offer our hearts to one another, my love,¡± Kierra whispers.

 ARC 6-Winter War-85

    Still holding onto Alana who isn¡¯t keen to let go of me, I take a seat on the corner of the bed. There¡¯s no point in circling the burning bush and my wife has always been a fan of directness. Her eyes hold expectations. I steel myself. ¡°You went too far today.¡±

    ¡°I know. Forgive me, my love.¡±

    I freeze, physically and mentally. That¡­that was too easy. Far too easy. Where¡¯s the loud proclamation that strength justifies all? The violent struggle to subdue her before she stops to listen to me? What¡­she doesn¡¯t just admit she¡¯s wrong. And the look she¡¯s giving me. The upturned eyes, the hunched shoulders. All of it says submission. The exact opposite of how she normally is.

    ¡°I have been thinking about your words.¡± Kierra averts her eyes and lowers her head. I¡¯d almost say she looks guilty. ¡°There is¡­a large difference in my culture and yours. When I first came to this kingdom, I was¡­unimpressed. With your father, his territory, his people. Your capital and your leaders were similarly unimpressive. Humanity¡­is weakness. I thought it would be better to stamp out the humanity.¡± She hums. ¡°If I am honest, a part of me still believes this. I know you are hurt¡­but I do not understand.¡±

    A raised hand stops me from responding. ¡°I may not understand but I do not need to.¡± She looks back at me and smiles softly. ¡°When we met, you accepted me. You did not understand but you embraced me. Then I shall do the same.¡± She shakes her head, lips quirking in a smile. ¡°I will embrace you as you are. My¡­gentle conqueror.¡±

    I bow my head, heart painfully pounding in my chest under an onslaught of turbulent emotions. Saints. She¡¯s irresistible as a savage beast. Soft and understanding Kierra is simply unfair. How am I supposed to be angry with her like this?

    She sighs. ¡°I cannot lie and say that I will not push you. I must. There is no other way I can live. I will learn your boundaries but there is a chance I may push beyond them again before I do. Be patient with me¡­please.¡±

    Stop it. My heart might melt out of my chest at this rate. It feels more like warm goop than flesh. Our eyes meet as she raises her head and I smile helplessly. No, no. I can¡¯t be foiled by pretty eyes and sweet words. What happened to my determination before I walked into this room?

    ¡°Just¡­listen. We don¡¯t always have to talk with our fists. Sometimes, I just want to talk about things. Before the bloodshed.¡±

    The look she gives me. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d think I¡¯d started speaking another language. She nods her head with obvious reluctance. ¡°Words. Mm.¡±

    ¡°Kii. Promise me.¡±

    She hums with a little more conviction. ¡°I will listen, dedia.¡±

    Good. Okay. Um, well. Honestly didn¡¯t expect this to go so well. There¡¯s a lot of¡­I don¡¯t know. A lot of energy that I don¡¯t know what to do with. It¡¯s like I ran full force at a wall, intending to barrel through it, but someone moved the wall before the collision. It¡¯s great not having to ram my head against a tough barrier but it¡¯s a little disorientating having my expectations undermined.

    Tightening arms draw my attention down to the woman clinging to me. Like Kierra, she doesn¡¯t want to look at me. I didn¡¯t come prepared for a fight with her but unfortunately, that doesn¡¯t mean speaking with her is any easier. In a way, it¡¯s more nerve-wracking than talking with Kierra. At least with her, I knew what to expect. Or at least, thought I knew. With Alana, it¡¯s new territory.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Still, after the rousing success of my first emotional confrontation, I¡¯m feeling a little confident. I raise Alana¡¯s chin, offering her a comforting smile. ¡°Going to hide from me all night?¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡± Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she sits up straight and faces me. She forces her features into a stern mask but it¡¯s riddled with cracks. Too many emotions to perfectly smooth over but I don¡¯t ruin her efforts by pointing them out. ¡°I should start with an apology.¡±

    It might sound ungenerous but I don¡¯t know if she knows what she¡¯s apologizing for. I can¡¯t let go of that thought and I end up asking, ¡°For what?¡±

    She frowns. ¡°For pushing you into an uncomfortable position. I¡­I knew you didn¡¯t want to kill the hunters. I also didn¡¯t but when I¡­when I was faced with the choice between their lives and advancing my goals, I didn¡¯t care. And I knew if I pushed, you would support me. I¡­took advantage of your feelings. I hurt you. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Did they plan this? Did they scheme to weaken me with coordinated attacks of sincerity? I could believe that far easier than both of them independently deciding to be so open and honest. It¡¯s incredibly effective. Looking in her teary eyes, the last of my anger is quietly strangled.

    ¡°We can go.¡±

    ¡°Alana¡­¡±

    She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and steels her features. ¡°We can leave Victory. We¡­I don¡¯t need this place. I don¡¯t want you to think that I would sacrifice you for my family. I¡­I love you. And if we have to leave to¡ª"

    ¡°No.¡±

    She stops, lips parting as she gapes at me. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not leaving.¡± I smile at her warmly. ¡°I know like you know that this place and the north is too important to you.¡± I didn¡¯t like the way her father spoke of the James connection to the north. As heartwarming as it is to know that she¡¯s willing to abandon Victory for me and as much as I would love to believe I¡¯d be enough, the truth is, I have my doubts. We could run but the shadow of her home would always be there. Worse, she could come to resent me. No, I can¡¯t risk that. ¡°We stay. But there¡¯s going to be a change in how we do things.¡±

    Her expression falls. ¡°Right. You can¡¯t trust me.¡±

    ¡°Of course I trust you, sweetie,¡± I say quickly. ¡°Saints, I¡¯d trust you more than I¡¯d trust myself¡­on most things. But not this. And that¡¯s okay! It just means we have to have a bit more discussion and I¡¯m going to need a few more details before agreeing to any more plans.¡±

    She nods, still looking quite unhappy. So I kiss her. It wipes the small frown from her face but there¡¯s still a sadness in her eyes. It¡¯s still there as I wrap my arms around her and drag her with me to lie down. A green arm goes around us as Kierra presses against my back, putting her chin on the top of my head.

    I bask in the moment of closeness but it¡¯s not right. There¡¯s an underlying tension I don¡¯t know how to fix. I don¡¯t know what to say. Maybe there¡¯s nothing I can say. Instead, I offer a distraction. ¡°I had some interesting conversations when I went for a walk.¡±

    Kierra hums, telling me to continue. Alana shifts but says nothing.

    ¡°You two should guess. I bet you won¡¯t get it.¡±

    ¡°Yulianna,¡± my sad saint mumbles into my chest.

    ¡°Uh¡­yes. How¡¯d you know?¡±

    ¡°She smelled blood and pounced. It¡¯s what she does.¡±

    ¡°What do¡ª"

    A scoff cuts me off. ¡°Are you saying she didn¡¯t try to recruit you? I won¡¯t believe you.¡±

    I keep silent. Maybe Alana¡¯s judgment isn¡¯t completely compromised when it comes to her family. ¡°I¡¯m sure there was a recruitment somewhere in there but most of it was concern.¡±

    She stiffens in my arms. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you fell for that nonsense.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t fall for anything. Come on, there¡¯s still another encounter you have to guess. I know you won¡¯t get this one.¡±

    ¡°Zach,¡± she says immediately.

    ¡°What? That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°All of this would be worth it if he could recruit you.¡±

    ¡°¡­there¡¯s no way he¡¯s that shameless.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d have to be at least that daring to be the favored heir.¡±

    ¡°Wow. And you¡¯re wrong.¡±

    ¡°Kalise?¡± Kierra guesses. ¡°She is interested in us. If she has not found us yet, she will soon.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t her.¡±

    They throw out a few more guesses that I knock down one by one. After savoring Alana¡¯s rising confusion, I finally give her the answer. ¡°Your father came out of the house to speak with me.¡± If I wasn¡¯t as strong as I am, she¡¯d have leapt out of my arms.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Relax. It was a pleasant conversation.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ªbut¡ªyou¡ª"

    ¡°He asked me to make you happy.¡±

    Her mutterings turn into unintelligible squawks and screeches. I chuckle as the last remnants of tension in the room disappear.

 ARC 6-Winter War-86-Interlude (Slaid)

    Slaid was not having a good day.

    It would be better to say the entire month had been terrible. The misfortune he found himself mired in, through no fault of his own, was astonishing. To a degree that would be unbelievable if he weren¡¯t living through the events as they transpired, assuring him it was no nightmare or horror story.

    The trail of misfortune didn¡¯t begin with the deaths of nearly two dozen hunters in the city of Quest, though that was the point where things took a turn for the worst. It started with a small house in a cold land where the youngest son born of two servants dreamed of a better life. Everyone around him thought the only way to that life was through the sword but after watching three brothers disappear beyond the looming mountains, he decided to try a different path. He went south to the city of Quest and joined One For All.

    For many years, Slaid was just another hunter. He traveled around the kingdom, slaying not-so-fearsome beasts and helping the odd villager. When he had a little more experience under his belt, he took to administrative work, organizing other hunters.

    While he was doing that work, he was asked to advise hunters attending Victory¡¯s campaigns. Under the current Duke James, the involvement of outsiders grew more and more. Rather than a few trusted individuals with connections to the north, anyone one with a weapon and a death wish could try their luck.

    Forces numbering more than a hundred were being assembled and that many armed individuals caused problems, logistical and social, in far more easy-going places. As one of the few people with knowledge of the fort and its traditions, he had been instrumental to the success of hunters involved in the campaigns. Since the north was filled with plenty of treasures if you were strong enough to bring them back, the number of hunters flocking to Victory grew year by year.

    Normally, he enjoyed his job but it had a tendency to drag him into many annoying situations. Though everyone had been dragged into the debacle involving the brewer. The noblewoman and the elf that had come to the halfling¡¯s rescue inflicted a horrific amount of damage on the guilds. The injuries weren¡¯t the worst of it. Hunters faced death every day and still got up in the morning to do it again. The loss of Guildmaster Emeritus was a terrible loss but he was an old man on the verge of retiring his position.

    The true damage was to the psyches of the hunters. Harvest was, overall, a peaceful place. Hunters weren¡¯t heroes, willing to give their lives for the weak and innocent. Not for the most part. They were adrenaline seekers. Those who chose to make their living through an exciting, though still fairly routine, job.

    People died but if one was diligent and cautious, they could make enough money to retire early with the wealth of a merchant and enough interesting stories to ensure they received free drinks for the rest of their days. That was the dream.

    They didn¡¯t join guilds to fight crazy women in the streets and watch their friends be bent and broken by creatures they couldn¡¯t identify, even with the combined records of every guild. The suddenness and brutality of the attack had stunned them. It left them feeling raw.

    Slaid knew the men felt vulnerable. Like the knights that had been on one too many campaigns and couldn¡¯t leave their houses without looking at the looming mountains, if they left their houses at all. It only got worse the longer the lord stalled in judging the killers.

    Fear made men stupid. A dangerous thing when said men and women were trained with weapons and magic. And, because that wasn¡¯t enough, an enterprising asshole attempted to make the situation worse.

    Emberton. The grandnephew of Emeritus who had the typical Harvest attitude of claiming respect due to a more powerful family member simply because they shared blood. A very average man with above average ambitions and a slick tongue.

    He was always searching for a platform. The death of the guildmaster was exactly what he needed to get people¡¯s attention and he used it to whip them into a frenzy.

    He urged the guilds to take action against the city lord. An impossible ask. To go against the lord was to go against the king. For as little respect they showed the lord, the guilds were under no illusion that they were genuinely independent. They were strong but they couldn¡¯t go against the royal army.

    Emberton knew the same, of course. The ridiculous suggestion was just a cover. He knew it would be rejected and the hunters would only grow more frustrated. Then he directed that frustration to a new target, the Hall. They were sheltering the killers and the Hall seemed a more acceptable target than the whole of Harvest.

    The smarter members of the guild had been horrified, Slaid included. The idiots thought it was a good idea to challenge Dunwayne. The Harvest Hero might not be the fighter he was in his prime but he was still regarded as the strongest master caster in the kingdom for good reason. Even if a guildmaster or three could stop him, there was an entire school behind him, consisting of several master casters and hundreds of other casters of varying skill.

    Slaid had been quick to intervene. Using a few of his connections, he managed to pressure Emberton into joining Victory¡¯s upcoming campaign. Far enough away that his poisonous words could do no harm. He hoped the cold would cool the hothead down. Maybe a small part of him hoped the problem would disappear. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time the snow swallowed a foolish hunter hoping to make a name for himself.

    Yet, somehow, the unthinkable happened. Emberton managed to make more of a mess in Victory than he ever could have in Quest. He¡¯d roped them all into a March to the Ancestors.

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    Slaid had good reason to be astounded by the development. He understood Victory and how they viewed outsiders. Only the powerful weren¡¯t outright ignored and those who proved themselves were accepted, never welcome. There is no way a visitor could stumble across such a specific tradition and anyone who was taught it would know not to use it flippantly.

    For the whole of his seventeen years in Victory, Slaid had witnessed dozens of duels but only one March. It happened when one family suspected their rival¡¯s eldest son of stabbing their heir in the back during a campaign. They demanded justice but had no proof. The suspected heir was also a once in a generation talent his family was loathed to lose. No peace could be found. It could only be settled in blood.

    Even for the northerners accustomed to blood and death, whole families slaughtering one another to the last adult was hard. Seeing children with no family behind them consigned to servitude for the rest of their lives to avoid an early grave was especially hard. That¡¯s what a March meant. Everything to the victors. The losers were wiped from history. Not even the wars recorded in ancient history were so brutal.

    Without a doubt, Slaid knew Emberton didn¡¯t understand what he was doing when he invoked the ancient tradition. If he understood what was at stake, he wouldn¡¯t have risked it, even if there was no way he could lose.

    The best-case scenario would mean he won and the noblewoman¡¯s household was massacred. Depending on the words used, perhaps the whole of the Tome clan. Innocent people who would have no idea why knights in dark blue armor and helms in the guise of beasts were knocking on their doors, daggers in hand. That wasn¡¯t what the guilds stood for. It would be a mark on their collective honor in the eyes of every other power besides the James family and that wasn¡¯t good for business.

    The worst-case scenario was that Emberton bit off more than he could chew and lost the March. If such an insane situation came to pass, Victory would not hesitate to march on Quest to collect from any guild whose members had participated. Even if it meant war with the kingdom. Even if it meant they had to kill every living creature in the city. The honorable knights wouldn¡¯t enjoy the job but vows meant more in the north than they did anywhere else. They would see the March upheld, no matter the price.

    The worst part of it was that there was a way for large organizations like the guilds, or the knight orders the rule was made for, to exempt themselves from the ¡°everything you are¡± a fighter in a March wagered. Without that provision, there would be no orders. However, it wasn¡¯t a procedure that could be done through a scribbled note. The representative for the guilds had to speak for them in the Witness Circle. A condition that normally never caused problems as only a native of Victory would be invoking a northern tradition.

    When the message reached him, there were two days left of the three-day deadline. He spent most of the day running around, screaming at people who couldn¡¯t understand that a few words spoken by a rogue idiot could doom them all if they didn¡¯t act. He didn¡¯t sleep a wink and the next day was spent on a storm roc¡¯s back, a rare hybrid between a roc and a sky serpent. It was the only creature capable of making such a long journey in one day and it had taken many favors from people more important than him to gain access to it. With good reason. He nearly killed the beast, forcing it to it fly from dawn to deep into the night to make it to Victory in time. And he did make it. It just wasn¡¯t enough.

    Some people thought that the Bleak Peaks hosted the souls of fallen knights of Victory. That the howling wind was their war cries in the afterlife, their spirits forever trapped in their memories of battle, unable to pass until the Lords of Winter were put in the ground. A March called on the ancestors to bear witness. Many said the bloodthirsty spirits invited misfortune. It was a deep suspicion which also prompted the residents of the north to be careful when invoking duels of honor. A March drew their attention and their powerful anger destined fighters to a future of bloodshed. Some thought it a blessing, others a curse.

    Slaid thought it was ridiculous but he was starting to believe. A curse was the only reason he could think of that fate would work against him upon arriving at Victory. He had to land, as flying over Victory without permission was a good way to get blasted out of the sky. Then, of all the guilds that could have been patrolling the road leading to the gate, he¡¯d run into the Order of the Waking Beast.

    His status as a ¡°deserter¡± of the fort didn¡¯t win him any favors with northerners but his blood was enough to keep most of them civil. The Beasts were the exception. They were always looking for a fight and his desertion was more than good enough of a reason to whip them into a frenzy.

    Normally, a few good hits would drive them off but he was too tired to throw a punch and too exhausted to form a spell. After they roughed him up, they dragged him back to their order and left him bleeding on the floor. Still, he struggled not to pass out and managed to get them to bring someone in charge. The higher-ups tended to be a little more sensible. Enough to understand the gravity of his situation.

    An older knight with an impressive sneer came and listened to his story. He even went off to inform someone more important. Slaid thought he had finally succeeded. He couldn¡¯t believe his eyes when the same man returned and told the two members watching him, as if a man on the verge of passing out needed watching, to get him some food and water but not to let him leave the room.

    He was being detained. Someone knew that he was there to stop a war and they¡¯d had him detained. Which meant it wasn¡¯t just a March. It was a March that involved powerful people. The leaders of Victory. The head of a knight order, maybe. He prayed to the saints it wasn¡¯t a James. If those madmen were involved, there¡¯d be no stopping the bloodshed.

    Unable to hold on, he passed out. The next time he woke, the sun was on the horizon, his body hurt, and he had a massive headache. Still, he demanded to be let out. He hoped, if he could plead his case to the duke before the March¡¯s end, he might be able to salvage the situation. The leader of Victory was not unreasonable, no matter how it seemed.

    They let him go with no trouble. It was suspicious but he wasn¡¯t the type to turn away a gift. Turned out it was more of a joke. The March was over. Against overwhelming odds, Lourianne Tome had won. That meant that she and her wife were far stronger than the guilds assumed. Come spring, she would be marching on Quest with Victory behind her.

    If the previous month had been stressful, the coming ones would be hellish. He would have to run the gauntlet and try to squeeze the locals for information, most important of which being which guilds had participated. Then he would have to tell those guilds that everything they owned would be seized by some of the strongest knights in Harvest.

    When they inevitably reacted with anger and disbelief, he would have to impress upon them that if they didn¡¯t react properly, Harvest would be turned on its ass. And then he would have to quietly escape with his family before they either tried to pin their salvation on him or blame him for the growing shitstorm that would undoubtedly sweep them away.

 ARC 6-Winter War-87- Interlude-Geneva

    Geneva hummed as she walked past the Witness Circle, easily dodging the fast-moving carriages, the shirtless fighters in the midst of training, workers moving at a quick pace, and faster moving servants that resembled rodents with their demeanors. Many looked at her but few did so for more than a moment. An aftereffect of their little display during the March but she paid it no mind, her thoughts directed to more important things.

    It seemed her summoner was still wary of her, as the foiling of her plot proved. The new order was also an impediment, rendering several possible plans to lure Lou into establishing a true power base unfeasible. However, while she had the right attitude, Lou was still naive. It wasn¡¯t enough. Not nearly.

    The only way someone of Lou¡¯s mental ability could control her would be to restrict her down to her very thoughts. Turn her into a mindless creature who could only carry out the words of her orders. But, if she were to do that, then Geneva would lose all her appeal. So, her summoner compromised. She tried to make her chain long enough to be useful but short enough to protect her. A common trap of arrogance. Individuals believing they had far more control of their circumstances than they did.

    Luckily for Lou, Geneva had more use for her contractor alive and well, so she wouldn¡¯t maliciously exploit the gaps in her commands. She didn¡¯t even take offense at the growing restrictions. They simply gave her more motivation to get¡­creative.

    Outside the unappealing and sadly named bunkhouse, she paused and cast a simple spell. The indistinct murmurs of thought leaking from the intelligent minds in the building sharpened, becoming words and impressions. There was a lot of confusion. The hunters inside didn¡¯t know what came next.

    It was good that she did.

    Having a good understanding of the room, Geneva pushed inside. The first room of the bunkhouse seemed to be a mess hall. There were three doors. At the back of the room, the door led to the kitchens and the servants¡¯ quarters beyond that. Three long tables had been set up in front of it. Servants stood behind them, serving food and drink.

    The rest of the room was filled with benches and tables. Dozens of hunters sat at them, enjoying a late breakfast or an early lunch. The room was a pleasant temperature, courtesy of a fire caster in the corner, and the conversation was lively. Nothing gave away the turmoil of their minds.

    ¡°Stop.¡±

    She laced her word with a mental compulsion that swept through the room. Nothing intrusive, as that would go against her orders. She had simply strengthened the natural projection of her thought until it was loud enough for the nearly-deaf, mentally speaking, hunters to here.

    As one, the room froze, none of them understanding why. In the moment of stillness, Geneva drew their attention as she walked down the center of the room. All eyes were on her as she stopped in front of the tables.

    ¡°Hello, everyone.¡± She flashed a charming smile, amused how quickly the crowd¡¯s confusion and suspicion were waylaid by attraction. She loved such beings. They were intelligent enough to believe they could control her but always susceptible to their instincts. Who needed to fear contracts under such conditions?

    ¡°If you do not recognize me, I am Geo, the contracted thrall of Lourianne Tome. You may recall me as I participated in the March two days ago.¡±

    Arousal was overtaken by caution and suppressed fear. Geneva didn¡¯t give them a chance to get distracted. ¡°As a result of the March, Alana James will be giving you your orders in the upcoming campaign.¡±

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    ¡°Alana?¡± a hunter asked. ¡°Never heard of her.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a James,¡± another interrupted. ¡°Be quiet. This could be important.¡±

    Geneva flashed the second hunter a brighter smile. He returned it, his suspicion waning. It waned in several others in the room, superseded by jealously. They were willing to listen to whatever she said for a chance of receiving the same attention. ¡°This is very important. If you decide to move beyond those walls, you will be putting your life in her hands. She will in turn be putting the fate of Victory in yours. It is an honor¡­one she is not entirely sure you deserve.¡±

    The room bristled, their pride ruffled. ¡°Oi!¡± a man called. ¡°What do you mean we don¡¯t deserve it? Who deserves to fight monsters in this ass-freezing cold? You should be begging us to fight with you.¡±

    A few others mumbled agreement.

    Geneva affected a sympathetic look. ¡°Zachariah, the one originally meant to organize you, is a man who values brute force and numbers. He wants to push as far as he can as quickly as he can and doesn¡¯t care how many of you die to do it.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡±

    ¡°Saints, see if I stay for this. I¡¯m not throwing my life away for a bit of gold.¡±

    ¡°As you shouldn¡¯t,¡± Geneva said, projecting her voice. ¡°You aren¡¯t here to die for a goal that has nothing to do with you. You¡¯re here for gold and glory. And those can only be enjoyed when one is alive. Which is why, all of you are in great luck. Alana is not her brother. She believes in quality over quantity. She also has a plan to go further than anyone has gone before. Unfortunately, this plan doesn¡¯t require everyone. We only need a hundred individuals. As such, I have been asked to run drills with everyone here to determine those who best suit our needs. The rest will return to the command of Zachariah James.¡±

    Her words caused an immediate uproar.

    ¡°Hey, no way!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t say he doesn¡¯t care if we die and then send us back to him!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not working for someone like that.¡±

    ¡°Silence.¡± The room quieted without the hunters realizing it. ¡°I understand your concerns. Unfortunately, the plan requires a small group. We cannot afford more but we can take less. Ability is imperative. There can be no compromises. If you are interested, the drills will take place in the afternoon, behind this building. Thank you for your attention. Please, continue with your morning.¡±

    She swept from the room with the same suddenness that she entered, amused. She hadn¡¯t lied. Alana did have a plan for the hunters and it called for a limited number of them, well-conditioned to follow orders. The rest she would return to Zachariah.

    While snatching the hunters from him was good for her reputation, it was an unnecessary burden. Better to take the victory and shift the work back to her brother. It would throw him off guard, which was good in any war, and it would keep him preoccupied.

    The chances that the favored heir would recoup the damage to his reputation through the hunters was non-existent. For one, no matter what he did, their accomplishments would loom over him like the Bleak Peaks over Victory.

    Beyond that, he would have a horrible time trying to control the hunters. She had already established the foundation that Zach didn¡¯t care about their lives. As they competed with one another to secure better positions, they would come to admire Alana and despise her brother. By the time the campaign started, they would be a malcontent force unwilling to take any orders. They wouldn¡¯t be worth the resources needed to control them. Zach would be better off leaving them in the fort but there was no way he could do so. She doubted he would have an easy time.

    That would be enough to satisfy Alana and satisfying Alana would satisfy Lou. Having already thwarted one plot already, she doubted Lou would be expecting another. Or at least, not deeply enough to pry into her actions. The young summoner wouldn¡¯t think too long when she requested to use the mental affinity to increase the effectiveness of the drills. She wouldn¡¯t have any reason to suspect Geneva of planting a few suggestions in their minds.

    She had been ordered to inform Lou of any plans of conquest. There was nothing preventing her from capitalizing on the chaos the March would cause in Quest. If her actions so happened to result in the removal of the city lord and the crippling of the guilds, that would be an unfortunate coincidence. One that would create a sizable vacuum of power in the city and the kingdom at large. Perhaps by then, Geneva could tempt her summoner with the benefits that came with ruling.

 ARC 6-Winter War-88

    It¡¯s been three days since the March. A busy three days, though not physically.

    In the wake of our talk, my contrite lovers proved clingy. Their arms held me prisoner in Alana¡¯s room, mostly atop her bed, but their need for physical intimacy couldn¡¯t stop the flow of time. With the campaign drawing ever closer and the consequences of the March to sort out, there is much to do.

    The hunters have been handled. Alana wanted to give them all back to her brother. We don¡¯t plan on conducting our siege on the north in a conventional manner and have no need of a large force that would probably stab us in the back. Returning them to her brother would also occupy him, stalling any attempts at revenge.

    However, Geneva countered that plan with one argument. If no one sees it, it didn¡¯t happen.

    We are here for glory. The plan is to build an outpost in the north, the first of its kind. Something permanent that the knights of Victory can occupy for years to come. It would also serve as proof of our conquest, as there are only so many bodies I¡¯m prepared to haul through the snow.

    The problem with that is people lie. And because people lie, they are also filled with distrust. Our accomplishments will be obvious but someone will deny them. Claim that it was this order or the duke himself that is responsible.

    Or they¡¯ll downplay our accomplishment. Make it seem like it¡¯s much easier than everyone thinks. The people of Victory will understand but they¡¯re not the ones who I¡¯m trying to impress. It¡¯s the rest of the kingdom and the crown. They¡¯ll take anything coming out of the north as rumors.

    What is much harder to ignore is several eyewitnesses sharing drunken stories in a tavern. We may not need the extra manpower but that doesn¡¯t mean there are no uses for it.

    Geneva also offered to solve the biggest problem of bringing them along. Namely, controlling them. Her plan is to make them covet their place by limiting the number of hunters we take with us. It¡¯s not hard. Those who accompany us have the chance to be a part of history and, likely more important to them, have a much better chance at survival. There¡¯s been so much death, they¡¯re scared and jumpy. Desperate for a modicum safety. If we make them fight for it, they¡¯ll treasure it. It¡¯s the next best thing to loyalty, according to my succubus.

    Either way, she¡¯s confident and is looking to get in my good graces, so we sent the succubus off to corral the hunters. There is also work for us to do. Alana needs to coordinate with her family and the orders. She eventually left the bed to prepare for a large meeting between all the leaders of the campaign.

    If it were before the March, she¡¯d be a nervous wreck, anxious to make sure she leaves a good impression, but our argument has cooled her eagerness regarding her family. Her determination is still present and she goes over previous campaign notes with the focus of a predator stalking prey but her pure belief in her last name has been marred.

    I have my own preparations to handle. First of which is seeing Cloud off. She¡¯s lingered because of the excitement but it¡¯s time for her and her beasties to return to the Sanctuary. She did me a big favor in getting my supplies here, though I dare say she enjoyed the journey. I¡¯ll have to find a proper way to thank her but the least I can do is see her off.

    I find her in the stables beside the estate, taking a brush to the beasties. I don¡¯t see the point as their lustrous coats will soon be dirtied by the road but she spoils her animals. I won¡¯t be the one to tell her to do otherwise.

    The monstrous horse¡¯s ear flicks on my approach. She pauses and turns, a small frown transforming into a large smile as she recognizes me. ¡°Sister.¡± She shrugs off the hood of her thick cloak as I approach. ¡°Come to set the wind to my back?¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°Going to miss puzzling out everything you say. Sure you want to head back?¡±

    ¡°I must. The brethren are anxious in foreign territory. I am the same.¡± She goes back to brushing. ¡°To each their pasture. I am no fan of snow. Or war.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Then you can wait for the good news.¡±

    ¡°I expect nothing else.¡± She pauses. Her eyes flick up to me nervously, an emotion I have never seen from her before her gaze drops to the ground. ¡°Would you come closer, sister?¡±

    I approach with caution, wary of anything that makes her wary. She motions me closer until our shoulders are pressed together tightly. Then she lowers her voice further. ¡°I would ask you of your¡­abilities but I do not wish to tread dangerous water.¡±

    ¡°Hey, we¡¯re friends. You can ask though I may not answer.¡±

    She nods. ¡°In the circle¡­you changed into many forms. Can you do that with any creature?¡±

    I shut my eyes, debating on how much to reveal. Or if I should reveal anything at all. Hm. It¡¯s Cloud. She wouldn¡¯t bring this up frivolously. And this is the first time she has asked me for anything. I have no doubt this is setup for a favor. It must be pretty important too. Cloud has made it very clear that she is not one of my lovers. I think she ties that into accepting favors fro me because she has yet to take advantage of my generosity to any degree.

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    ¡°I can but I need enough of the creature to¡­study.¡±

    She sucks in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. ¡°There is a need for that kind of ability in the Sanctuary. A great need. For the breeders.¡± Her eyes look at me hesitantly. ¡°For the elusive brethren, it is difficult to find¡­mating pairs.¡±

    Wait. Is she asking¡­ ¡°No. Absolutely not.¡±

    ¡°It would not require direct intimacy. The breeders are skilled at milking the males.¡±

    ¡°That does not make this any more uncomfortable.¡±

    Cloud chuckles. ¡°My brethren would not forgive me if I did not ask. Do not think of it anymore, sister. Lest you ever need a favor from the Sanctuary or a little more gold.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t. Saints.¡±

    With that disturbing thought in my head, I help Cloud prepare her beasties for the long journey ahead. They are not receptive to my attention, prancing in place anxiously and tossing their heads at my approach. What I lack in animal graces I make up with brute strength. I force them to hold still as I examine their feet, brush out the snags in their coats, and feed them snacks of dried fruit.

    Cloud hitches four of the beasts to one of my wagons, loaded down with feed. The few stable boys hanging around aren¡¯t happy with that, giving us nasty glares from a safe distance. Whether it be from my performance at the Witness Circle or Geneva¡¯s previous meddling, they don¡¯t dare speak their misgivings. We leave the stable unharried.

    I imagine the procession of nearly three dozen manabeasts makes quite a sight. The locals certainly give way, which is a first. Another effect of my new reputation? I won¡¯t complain. The front gate is also lifted without any questions.

    As for why I¡¯m still on the bench beside Cloud, I think it¡¯s best I see her past the village. It¡¯d be a shame if those clowns from Waking Beast give her any trouble. As aggressive as the mana enhanced horses are, they aren¡¯t strong enough to defend themselves from rowdy knights.

    The same with Cloud. She¡¯s strong, but not that strong. I¡¯d wager she¡¯s about even with Alana, because of her regeneration, in pure ability. Alana is the better fighter and I wouldn¡¯t trust her to fight her way through the village. Thankfully, the tamer isn¡¯t bothered by the escort.

    It seems an unnecessary precaution. The knights of Waking Beast aren¡¯t standing on the road as we put the village behind us. Instead, three men dressed in white armor and white capes with dark blue suns on the back block the way. Each of them wears swords at their sides and shields on their back. They don¡¯t move as we approach, forcing us to ease to a stop.

    The knight in the middle walks toward us with a bright smile. If I step outside of my bias and appraise him, he¡¯s handsome. Uncommonly so. Thick blond hair, bright hazel eyes, tanned, tall, fit, strong chin, and a brilliant smile. He¡¯s someone perfect depiction of a hero, I bet. The kind the ladies of the capital would faint in the presence of when he kissed the back of their hands at a ball.

    Better, he simply has that air about him. A¡­kindness. I¡¯m surprised with myself for daring to think such an absurd thing but there¡¯s something about him that could quiet crying babies and tame savage strays.

    ¡°Good afternoon, ladies.¡± Saints blessed asses, even his voice is perfect. Rich and mellow. If a woman had that voice, well. It would do things to me. Seeing who it¡¯s attached to, it¡¯s merely pleasant on the ears. ¡°My apologies for holding you up but there are rules. I must inspect your cargo but I will try to make it quick and painless.¡±

    ¡°You could at least introduce yourself before pawing through our things,¡± I say.

    My voice is purposely aggressive. Something about his demeanor is irking. I want to put a crack in his polite features. He¡¯s unruffled by my tone, lips quirking in a small smile.

    ¡°Lancecain Polluck. No need to introduce yourself, Lady Lourianne Tome. I¡¯m sure everyone in the north knows your name by now.¡±

    Hm. There¡¯s something about his name that¡¯s familiar¡­

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the name of your fair companion.¡±

    ¡°Cloudy Blood Moon.¡±

    ¡°Charmed, fair lady. Pardon me for any rudeness but I must do my duties. If I have your leave?¡±

    ¡°Anytime,¡± Cloud practically purrs.

    I give her a look as he waves one of the other knights forward. The look she gives me in turn is unapologetic. She makes her feelings even more blatant by turning toward the knight and licking her lips, eying him up and down.

    To his credit, Lancecain takes the attention with unprecedented grace, showing neither a sign of appreciation nor rejection. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to leave Victory so soon, Lady Tome.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. Just escorting Cloud to the road.¡±

    ¡°Admirable.¡±

    ¡°And you? What¡¯s a man of good character like yourself doing waylaying hapless maidens?¡±

    He chuckles. ¡°You have a profound sense of humor to describe yourself as hapless. Duty finds me on this road, though not the formal one of my comrades. My mentor should be arriving soon. I thought it would be good if I was here to meet him. As it is the Duelists turn to provide security, I intruded on their watch.¡±

    ¡°Duelists?¡±

    ¡°The Order of the Polar Duelists. Knights of Victory who specialize in duels or fighting singular opponents. In campaigns, we stay in the middle of a formation until a particularly nasty foe rears its head.¡±

    ¡°Showing off?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. As I understand it, Alana will be one of the more prominent commanders of the campaign. It wouldn¡¯t be a terrible idea to bolster your hunter forces with a few knights. I simply wanted to make you aware of your choices. The Duelists always perform admirably.¡±

    The knight alongside the wagon finishes his inspection and returns to his place. ¡°It seems all is well.¡± Lancecain nods as he steps aside. ¡°I won¡¯t hold you up any longer.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    Cloud doesn¡¯t hesitate to get the wagon moving. I face forward, the short conversation with the heroic young man lingering. Something nags me about him. It¡¯s only after several minutes of riding that it comes to me. Polluck. While I do struggle to remember irrelevant people, I¡¯m not nearly as bad with names as I pretend. And that¡¯s the name of Alana¡¯s would-be teacher.

    That leaves two options. One, that¡¯s the good knight¡¯s son. Problem with that is he looks nothing like him. Quite the opposite. While it¡¯s possible he takes exceedingly after his mother or his grandparents or someone else, I doubt it. That leaves the second option.

    It¡¯s normal for teachers to give their names to their students. Particularly, their inheritors, the ones they pass on their legacies too. If this is another example of the tradition, that would make him Polluck¡¯s inheritor. For that to have any meaning, he would also have to have a light affinity.

    Seems I¡¯ve met quite the important character.

 ARC 6-Winter War-89

    Once I return to the James estate, it is time for a treat. What I have been looking forward to most about our journey to the north, though I never considered it to be an option when we discussed our plans.

    A long time ago, a Tome marched with the knights of Victory to face the Lords of Winter. Accustomed to negotiating with beings of supreme power, they hoped a summoner¡¯s expertise would allow them to broker peace, or at least some measure of understanding. My ancestor returned to the south without success and no Tome has taken up the task again.

    Amazingly, I¡¯ve just learned of this legendary feat recently. And, more importantly, as summoners tend to do, the summoner made a record of it. A record the duke has offered to let me see.

    I hum as I follow a nervous blonde woman through the halls of the estate, feeling an urge to skip but smothering it. I recognize my guide as the third of the duke¡¯s wives but can¡¯t recall her name. It doesn¡¯t seem important as she hasn¡¯t made any attempts at conversation, though she does glance at me now and again when she thinks I don¡¯t see.

    I¡¯m quite excited. This has all kinds of implications. Did they involve a Tome as a simple negotiator? Or do the Lords have something to do with another realm? Are they elementals? I¡¯d dismiss the idea as ridiculous before but Geneva has enlightened me to the knowledge that there are ways for elementals to stay in realms beside their own without a contract. Or maybe they have a contractor, one who¡¯s lived for nearly five centuries.

    If the north is held by powerful elementals, it¡¯s no wonder the residents of Victory are having so much trouble in their conquest. They are fighting what they believe to be powerful and perhaps unnaturally intelligent manabeasts when the true threat can be something else entirely. Something incomprehensible.

    Saints save us all if there¡¯s another creature like Geneva waiting on the other side of the snow.

    ¡°Here.¡±

    The quiet word takes me out of my thoughts. We¡¯re standing before two large wooden doors with thick, brass handles. I recognize them from Alana¡¯s tour. The James¡¯ family library. Both an obvious and underwhelming place for such valuable writing. I suppose I can¡¯t expect others to appreciate my family¡¯s work the way I do.

    Seeing the third wife¡¯s skinny arms, I quickly step forward, encountering a brief snag as I try to open the doors before pushing them instead. The library is plain and functional, which seems to be the trend in the north. Interestingly, the books rest on shelves carved out of the stone walls as opposed to sitting on wooden bookcases, rising from the floor to the ceiling.

    In the middle of the room is a plain table and a single basic chair. It certainly doesn¡¯t inspire one to curl up on a cold night with a warm story. This is a place of work and purpose. It almost rejects the cozy atmosphere most other reading spaces attempt to capture. As expected of the James.

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    The third wife moves across the room, crouching to grab a wooden box from the lowest shelf on the far wall. I follow her as she sets it on the table, removing a key from a well-hidden pocket on her dress. She turns the lock and opens it, before stepping aside. I eagerly take her place.

    ¡°You want the journal at the bottom,¡± a quiet voice advises me. ¡°Careful. The papers are old and fragile. Don¡¯t remove their coverings, please.¡±

    I mumble understanding, well used to handling delicate summoning records. I move with the gentleness of a lover as I move aside the ancient writings until my fingers find the hard binding of a book. I carefully remove it from the box, marveling at the crumbling but still intact leather. A quick look at the pages shows browning at the edges but they¡¯re in good condition and I have no problem opening it to the first blank page.

    ¡°Please do not take it from this room.¡±

    A sudden spike of anger makes me frown. ¡°This is my ancestor¡¯s work.¡± This should have been given to my family. They certainly have no use or appreciation for it, keeping it locked away in a box. Who are they to tell me what to do with it?

    ¡°Your ancestor¡¯s work on behalf of the north and the duke of the time.¡± Despite arguing, her voice is void of aggression and she hangs her head, shoulders hunching like a scared animal.

    I let out a deep breath, the anger having already faded. Of course, I understand I don¡¯t have a real right to snatch this journal. It¡¯s not like it¡¯s a priceless heirloom. I didn¡¯t even know about it a month ago. I just get a bit emotional when it comes to summoning.

    ¡°I understand.¡± I circle around the table and sit in the chair. As I¡¯m about to delve into the journal, I notice Ariza is still standing in the same place. She¡¯s relaxed a little but is still tense. ¡°¡­is there something else?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Um¡­I was wondering¡­if you would be interested in a banquet?¡±

    My brows jump up at the suggestion. ¡°I didn¡¯t take Victory as the type of place to hosts banquets.¡±

    ¡°Mm. They aren¡¯t common, normally held in honor of great battles. As¡­unusual as it was, your March would qualify. You would be the guest of honor so¡­I thought I¡¯d ask.¡±

    ¡°Considerate.¡± I lean back against the stiff chair and sigh. ¡°Truthfully, I¡¯m not fond of banquets. I also don¡¯t see the point. We have so much to do.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d take care of the details if you want,¡± the quiet wife says quickly. ¡°It¡¯d be good for you. And Alana. As a commander, she¡¯ll have to interact with the other field commanders. Better if she meets them socially before then. Same for you.¡±

    You can take the knights out of the capital but you can¡¯t take the capital out of the knights, I suppose. Court follows the powerful wherever they go, even the supposed saint-forsaken north. I have no illusions I¡¯ll enjoy hobnobbing with the elites of the fort but if it¡¯ll help Alana¡­ ¡°Have you asked Alana?¡±

    She turns her head. ¡°I was hoping you would. We don¡¯t have the best relationship.¡±

    ¡°Is it so bad that you can¡¯t ask her a simple question? I¡¯m not doing it if she isn¡¯t.¡±

    The woman nods. ¡°I suppose¡­I will ask her.¡± After a few moments of silence and my quiet stare, she jumps. ¡°Ah. I will leave you to it.¡±

    She scurries from the room, opening one of the doors and closing it softly behind her. I shake my head. What a strange woman. I¡¯d never imagine a noblewoman with her title, a literal duchess, having the spine of a mouse. More strange that a hard man like the duke would be interested in that type of woman, given he could have anyone in the north. To each their own, I suppose. There are those that¡¯d be horrified by Kierra¡¯s affections.

    Putting the thoughts of wives out of my mind, I turn to the journal, gently flipping through the rough pages.

 ARC 6-Winter War-90

    Several hours later, I close the journal, thoughts racing.

    I have to wonder if anyone in Victory has taken the time to read this work. I doubt it. This is not a bed of scholars. There is also the problem that the work is not in Common, the language used in the kingdom, but is written in one of the ancient languages. Thankfully, one known to the imp in my lap who has served as my translator.

    From my short conversation with the duke upon our first meeting, the understanding of the inhabitants of Victory is that my ancestor, who unfortunately doesn¡¯t name themselves but I can at least guess they are an older man, failed. The war continued, the knights constantly venturing into the north to beat back the monsters that would overwhelm them if left alone for so much as a year.

    It¡¯s offensive how far this is from the truth. According to this journal, there are two factions in the north. The monsters led by the Lords of the Peaks, who are powerful manabeasts that have made their lairs at the top of the looming mountains. They are the threat who once overran Victory and marched armies into the kingdom, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

    The other faction is the Lords of Winter. From my ancestor¡¯s description of them, intelligent beings who live deep in the north. Civilized beings who live at the base of another mountain referred to as the Heart of Ice in buildings built of compacted snow, simple dwellings that hide the true civilization under the earth.

    To my annoyance, my ancestor doesn¡¯t describe the Lords of Winter. He does ponder about their origins, wondering if they could be from another realm because of their strangeness, but apparently didn¡¯t have the guts to make real inquiries. To be fair, he was under the pressure of war. People were dying in droves from the assault of the Lords of the Peaks. He didn¡¯t have time to indulge in curiosity.

    However, he did prove successful in his task. The Lords of Winter wanted nothing to do with the war and, more importantly, they didn¡¯t want humanity in the north. My ancestor convinced them that if they did not intervene, humanity would come in droves. They would use all means available and the Lords of Winter would be lumped into the conflict.

    It was enough. Somehow, the Lords of Winter convinced the Lords of the Peaks to withdraw their armies and both parties swore an oath. The monstrous hordes of the north would stay beyond the Bleak Peaks and the humans would before it. So long as both kept to their end of the bargain, there would be peace.

    My ancestor also swore a personal oath that our family would not unleash some flesh-eating rabid monstrosity that would decimate both sides. It wasn¡¯t that my ancestor left in disgrace. The commander of the northern forces at the time offered him a permanent position but he left to keep his end of the bargain.

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    His last act was to warn them that while a bargain had been struck, there would be the few manabeasts that were too simple or too accustomed to blood to obey the will of the Lords of the Peaks. One of his last entries in the journal speaks about the plans to build a fort to block the largest path through the mountains, where the monsters had poured out of before. Winterwall. The original name of Victory, before its commander was given the noble title of James and governance of its surrounding territory.

    This¡­has a lot of implications.

    First, damn this kingdom to the Abyss. My family stopped a full-out war with the Lords, a war the kingdom was losing, and we still were beaten and thrust into obscurity. What does it take to earn a little respect? What is the point of stupid things like honor and debts of gratitude? Is there any meaning in service? In reputation? Why bother doing great deeds if they are buried in two or three generations? It¡¯s sickening.

    My emotions aside, the second and more important implication is I almost screwed over the entirety of Harvest. If this journal is right, establishing an outpost in the north will re-ignite the war between the Lords of the Peaks and Harvest. If the Lords of Winter think humanity has gone back on their oath and plan to unleash monstrosities from a thousand realms, they¡¯ll likely get involved. The journal makes no mention of their strength but if they are strong enough to convince the Lords of the Peaks, their abilities can¡¯t be simple. Meaning, it would be worse than the war that prompted the ceasefire. The kingdom is not the predator it was in those days, grown fat and lazy from peace. It would be a slaughter.

    What a mess.

    ¡°Bell?¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    ¡°What are my chances of convincing Victory to stop their assaults on the north?¡±

    ¡°Cooo.¡± [Impossible, Master Lou. The entirety of their culture and their economy is centered around their war with the north. They will say that the journal is one, uncollaborated source. There is no way to know if it is the truth. You will do nothing but make enemies.]

    ¡°About what I expected.¡± I slump in my chair with a heavy sigh. ¡°They don¡¯t have to change though? They just need to keep doing what they¡¯re doing. Go in, kill some manabeasts, get out.¡±

    ¡°Coo coo!¡± [They fight for victory. While it would be no different from the status quo, they would first have to concede any possibility of winning.]

    ¡°I¡¯d be better off asking them to throw themselves on their swords.¡± I sigh again before standing. Carefully, I place the journal back into its box and close it. Scooping Bell into my arms, I walk back to Alana¡¯s room.

    I have a lot of questions about what I¡¯ve just read and the north in general but two things are clear. One, I¡¯m going to have to scrap my plans. That¡¯s a lot of gold and effort out the window. Alana isn¡¯t going to be happy, hearing that her family has been leading the charge to Harvest¡¯s destruction for generations. I wonder if she¡¯ll even believe me. No, she has no choice. I have to convince her because the plan has to change.

    Which brings me to the second thing I¡¯m sure of. I have to find the Lords of Winter. Not to bring back one of their skulls for Kierra to mount on our wall but on a mission of peace. I need proof that what the journal says is true. That¡¯s the only way I¡¯ll ever convince the duke and his knightly orders. There¡¯s no telling if they¡¯ll be willing to listen but that is a road to cross once I reach it.

 ARC 6-Winter War-91

    The room is empty when I arrive. A good thing. Gives me time to plan what I want to say as opposed to verbally vomiting out my discoveries. Lounging on the bed, I play with my adorable imp¡¯s feet as I ponder the best way to explain to my wife-to-be that her family¡¯s single-minded crusade will doom us all if they somehow succeed.

    I stiffen as the door opens only to relax when I spot summer green skin and silver hair. Kierra¡¯s usual leathers are accentuated by a pristine white fur of some unfortunate creature with a long snout and four stubby arms. She smiles as she sees me, slinking into the room with fluid grace. ¡°There you are, dedia. You missed dinner.¡±

    Did I? It didn¡¯t feel that long. ¡°I doubt I missed anything good.¡±

    ¡°The cooks of this house cannot compare to the pet, no. I reckon Kalise will lose the last of her restraint if we introduce her to one more delight.¡±

    ¡°Suppose that¡¯s where you got that poor creature.¡±

    She pets her new fur with a chuckle. ¡°She is desperate to get her hands on more of Howie¡¯s creations. She offered me a selection of her best furs, claiming she has no occurrence to wear them anymore. It is quite remarkable how the duke manages to keep three women when he only gives one a modicum of attention.¡±

    ¡°I suppose elves wouldn¡¯t stay in a loveless marriage.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°Eleanor is the first wife. If she were from Dusk, she would either have killed Kalise or the duke if she did not approve. The flower might have survived her wrath. She understands her place and does not desire to move beyond it.¡±

    Kierra takes a seat on the end of the bed. I move closer and she doesn¡¯t hesitate to lie down. I follow and our arms go around each other. ¡°It is amusing how scholarly you become when your family is involved. Anything interesting?¡±

    ¡°Very interesting. And very troubling.¡± I sigh, lifting a hand to trace her cheek with a finger. She smiles as I gaze into her eyes, more green than gold in this light. ¡°Alana isn¡¯t going to be happy. Her father even less.¡±

    ¡°That does sound interesting. Share.¡±

    ¡°The journal. It says that if we follow through with our plans, and humanity establishes a presence in the north, it reignites the war with the Lord of the Peaks, powerful manabeasts that live at the top of the Bleak Peaks. All-out war. Armies of manabeasts charging Victory¡¯s walls and pouring into the kingdom.¡±

    As expected, her first reaction is excitement. Curling lips and bright eyes at the thought of a large-scale battle. But, then her expression collapses, lips pressing into a firm line. ¡°This is not good.¡± Her tone has a hint of question, as she remembers my aversion to unnecessary death. It makes me lean forward and kiss her. That returns her smile but the excitement is gone. ¡°Do you mean to say that Victory¡¯s war will lead to its destruction if they ever win?¡±

    ¡°Theirs and everyone else¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Then, you wish to convince them to stop.¡±

    ¡°Ideally.¡±

    ¡°It will not happen.¡±

    I wince. I think the same but it¡¯s unsettling to hear my thoughts reflected with her conviction. Makes the future seem that much grimmer. ¡°Yeah, I was thinking the same. There is no way this ends well.¡±

    ¡°Is there nothing you can do?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s plenty I can do. The real question is, does it matter? Right now, I have an uncorroborated account of an ancestor saying that all of Victory is wrong. I can take it to the duke. It might be the first thing to get a laugh out of him. Doubt it¡¯s going to accomplish much else.

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    ¡°I could follow Geneva¡¯s advice and conquer the whole of Victory. Be a benevolent tyrant, saving them from themselves. This crazy place might even appreciate it. Might. Or they fight me to the last man. Which would defeat the point of trying to save them.

    ¡°Then of course there¡¯s the heroic way. Me and my merry band of misfits journey across the great white expanse of the north in search of the elusive Lords of Winter. After dueling their greatest fighter and undertaking a quest to win the respect of their stern king, I will finally get engaged to his only and incredibly beautiful daughter. He will send a messenger with undeniable proof of the ancient pact struck by my ancestor only for the residents of Victory to deny it anyway. Then I will be torn between the kingdom and my new bride, forced to choose the destruction of one side to save the other.¡±

    Kierra eyes me, confusion evident. ¡°¡­I see? That is very¡­specific.¡±

    Rolly appears above us in a flash of light. ¡°I think it¡¯s inspired! Very traditional storytelling but one can never go wrong with the classics.¡±

    ¡°Where¡­do you just hang on and wait for opportune moments to make appearances?¡±

    ¡°Well, what else am I supposed to do, my summoner? Your life is rather boring. I must say, I expected a lot more orgies.¡±

    I gape at her. My life? Boring? ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous! How is my life boring? It hasn¡¯t even been a week since I was involved in a giant battle that killed over three dozen hunters and is almost guaranteed to start a war between the crown and Victory! Is that boring?¡±

    The elemental shifts bright blue. ¡°Yeah? You also spent the whole day reading an old journal. A whole day.¡±

    ¡°Well, what was I supposed to do? It was important.¡±

    ¡°The imp could have read it in minutes and summarized it.¡±

    At the end of the bed, Bell smirks and gives and agreeing ¡°Coo.¡±

    ¡°Admit it. You liked reading some old, dusty journal. About history. The man didn¡¯t even have the decency to exaggerate or add a few events that never happened. Boring.¡±

    ¡°You¡­you¡­¡± I chew on her accusation. Then I turn desperate eyes to my wife. ¡°I¡¯m not boring, am I?¡±

    Her smile is comforting. I wince. Kierra is only soft when she thinks I can¡¯t take another blow. ¡°You are plenty interesting, my love.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I have never had so many surprises in a partner.¡±

    I grumble my assent, choosing to accept her words. I glare at Rolly, who disappears with a laugh. ¡°Exciting or not, this is serious. While my first instinct is to prove my ancestor correct, that could also violate the agreement. Just showing my face to the Lords could doom the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°There is another possibility. The armies you are concerned about are controlled by the Lords of the Peaks, yes? They are the commanders. Kill them and the threat is halved. The little knights could even defend the walls themselves if there is no intelligence guiding their enemies. Hopefully.¡±

    She really has no respect for humanity¡¯s fighters. Still, her levity eases my growing apprehension of the whole situation. I roll closer and her arm goes around my waist. ¡°What a mess.¡±

    ¡°If you are unsure, you should consult the duke. He is the leader of these people.¡±

    ¡°The leader of these people who didn¡¯t bother to learn the truth.¡±

    ¡°One truth. We do not know what the duke knows. Which is why I suggest you have a conversation with him. And our star. She is going to have, mm, an opinion.¡±

    She¡¯s right. There¡¯s also the matter of the expedition taken by the ancestor mentioned by the duke. Perhaps that will offer some more enlightenment. Or it¡¯ll be completely useless. I groan. ¡°You¡¯re telling me.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we should follow the little lightfly¡¯s advice and drag the James into an orgy. They would be much more willing to listen to you then, I would think.¡±

    I pull a face as she laughs. ¡°Be serious.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Quite. The women of this clan are not united. It may cause more problems than it solves.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­not exactly the problem I was thinking about. More like I don¡¯t think the duke would appreciate us sleeping with his wives and there is no way it¡¯s happening with him involved.¡±

    ¡°Then perhaps only the women of the younger generation? Sharing a partner is how I worked out my problems with my sister.¡±

    I pull back and gape at her. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You have not noticed Alana¡¯s problems with Yulianna?¡±

    ¡°Not that! The thing with you and your sister. I need more details. For, uh, understanding elven culture. Yeah.¡±

    She raises a brow. ¡°This is the first you have taken such an interest in our culture.¡± I turn to avoid her knowing glance. ¡°The short version of the story is that I needed to show her I was as much a lover as I am fighter. As a dancer, she did not respect my prowess with blades. So I showed her a different strength.¡±

    ¡°Wait¡­you didn¡¯t steal your sister¡¯s lover just to prove your superiority, did you?¡± Please tell me you didn¡¯t. Even though that sounds exactly like something you¡¯d do.

    ¡°There was no stealing. It was a fair contest with clearly stated rules.¡±

    ¡°¡­you competed with your sister by fucking her lover and that fixed your relationship?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We bonded when I taught her some of the¡­tricks, I used. Hm.¡±

    Elves are insane. All of them. Saints, I love her.

 ARC 6-Winter War-92

    Alana enters the room before I can wheedle the rest of the story from my wife. She looks stressed, brows heavily furrowed and thin lips pressed tight. Ah. Suppose I did leave her to fend off her family alone. Doubtful that Kierra would be very helpful lest the tension finally escalated to blows but the James are all too controlled to throw forks across the table. I offer a hesitant smile as her tired blue eyes find me.

    ¡°Hey. I asked the servants to prepare a bath. They¡¯ll be here in a few minutes so don¡¯t do anything you wouldn¡¯t want to be caught doing.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it like that. This one might take it as a challenge.¡±

    Kierra grins but doesn¡¯t refute the words. Alana shakes her head as she starts to strip. ¡°Ariza mentioned that she¡¯d shown you the writings from your ancestor? Did you find anything interesting?¡±

    ¡°What all did she say?¡±

    She pauses in pulling off her shirt, looking at me over her shoulder. ¡°Is there a problem?¡±

    ¡°Depends on how much your family knows. Your father mentioned that someone from my family showed up here following the footsteps of another ancestor. She directed me to a journal written by the older visitor. One that happens to be in a language other than Common. One I imagine few, if anyone, can read and no one has the confidence to translate with accuracy.¡±

    I scowl. ¡°The question is, did she give me that to stump me or to see if I could read it?¡± Neither option is beyond belief. It wouldn¡¯t be unreasonable to think that the Tomes had passed down the language used by their ancestors. Failing that, summoners tended to be scholarly individuals by nature, the craft involving much research and theory-crafting in pursuit of contracting powerful elementals.

    If I had a journal written by the only person to meet my greatest enemy and survive, I¡¯d be very interested in having it translated. It costs them nothing. What I really want to know is if the duke has any inkling of this oath. I would think something this important would be passed down to every child. Clearly, the opposite has happened, every resident of Victory instilled with the fanatical drive to conquer the north. How did things become like this? I might have to read up on the fort¡¯s history if I want any hope of saving these people.

    ¡°Ariza isn¡¯t a schemer,¡± Alana mutters, tossing her shirt aside. ¡°If there is something deeper to her actions, someone else is behind. Either Kalise or Eleanor, my father doesn¡¯t scheme either. While I don¡¯t doubt either one or both could be plotting something, baiting you with ancient texts doesn¡¯t seem their style. What does it matter? It¡¯s ancient history. They were probably curious. Unless there was something important written there¡­¡±

    She trails off, giving me a look. I sigh under her expectant gaze. ¡°Yeah, there was something important written there. We have a problem. Well, two problems.¡±

    A hand slowly climbs to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose. ¡°Are they relevant right now? This very moment?¡±

    ¡°I guess not?¡±

    ¡°Then I want my bath first,¡± she grumbles. ¡°It¡¯s been¡­a day. I kept waiting for Zach to say something snide about my plans for the hunters but he kept his mouth shut. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s waiting for me to make a fool of myself or if his mother has pulled on his ear. Don¡¯t know which one is worse.¡±

    ¡°About those plans. They¡¯re probably going to have to change.¡±

    The look she gives me is a mix of shock, anger, and frustration. I understand. She¡¯s been working hard to coordinate our plans for the hunters under our control with the other forces of the campaign. It¡¯s also her first time in command so she¡¯s been extra critical of herself, leading to longer hours of work compounded by many more hours of second-guessing herself. I offered to lend her my succubi but, within all expectations, she refused, wanting to prove herself with her own strength.

    I¡¯ve just told her that all that hard work is meaningless. Worse, she might have to do it all again. To her credit, she doesn¡¯t direct that frustration at me for long, dropping her head and pushing down her pants. I¡¯m understandably distracted by the view as she continues to strip. She isn¡¯t trying to be sexy and she doesn¡¯t have the curves of my elf, but my eyes rake over her slender form, hard and soft in all the right places.

    There is a knock on the door just before she takes off the cloth binding her chest. I glare at the door as Alana yells for the interruption to come in. A young girl dressed in a simple dress and apron stands in the doorway and asks if she¡¯s ready for her bath. Alana gives her consent and the girl departs, soon returning with two older girls, each holding one end of a wooden tub, the handles on either end coated in brass. They set it against a wall and one of them kneels, opening a small round opening in the floor I hadn¡¯t noticed until now.

    One of the girl¡¯s eyes glows with channeled mana as she holds her hand over the opening. In a matter of moments, she stands, a trail of clear water following the fingers. The stream of water is directed to the tub and quickly fills it up. The second girl is the next to cast. Once the tub is three-fourths full, she puts a finger in the water. In a moment, the water is steaming.

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    ¡°Your bath is prepared is, my lady,¡± they say together. They wait for Alana¡¯s dismissing hum before slipping from the room, shutting the door softly behind them.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid of a splinter in an uncomfortable place?¡± I ask as she finishes stripping.

    ¡°The wood is specially treated not to splinter or absorb water,¡± she mutters while grabbing a cloth and what I assume is a small bottle of liquid soap from her dresser. Standing by the tub, she dips the cloth in the water, squirts a little of the soap on it, and begins to wipe herself down. A strong citrus scent mixed with a mellow spice fills my nose. ¡°It¡¯s also supposed to make the bath water better for the skin but I think that¡¯s just an excuse. Wood is rare this far north, so it¡¯s a status symbol. Besides, stone is far too heavy to have the servants lugging through the house every night.¡±

    She finishes with the cloth, setting it on the edge of the tub before climbing in. She sighs as she sinks into the warm water, the suds on her body moving to its surface to obscure my view. I amuse myself watching her content expression while Kierra amuses herself wrestling with Bell. It takes several minutes before her eyes open and she looks at me. ¡°Okay. Tell me.¡±

    ¡°Sure? You look comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Which is why this is the best time.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Do you want the big issue or the small issue first?¡±

    ¡°The small.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Most would say big. Handle the most important thing first.¡±

    ¡°Bigger does not always mean more urgent. You¡¯ve already told me it¡¯s nothing that needs to be handled tonight. Gives me time to hear the smaller issue and properly think about it. Otherwise, it may be neglected because of the bigger one.¡± She waves her hand. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m boring?¡±

    She blinks slowly. ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°Boring. Me. What say you?¡±

    ¡°¡­is this a joke?¡±¡¯

    I frown. ¡°Rolly claims I¡¯m boring. I thought it was ridiculous until I remembered that I spent the whole day happily reading an ancient journal. I have my doubts. So?¡±

    ¡°Lou, you¡¯re married to an elf, you¡¯re effectively immortal, you may as well be a living embodiment of sexual appetite, and you¡¯re at the center of what could be the first war of the kingdom. You had your head cut off a few days ago and it meant less than someone else getting a paper cut. How in the Abyss are you boring?!¡±

    There¡¯s a flash of light as Rolly appears over her head. ¡°Meh,¡± she says dismissively before disappearing again.

    I point at where she was. ¡°See?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s baiting you,¡± Alana sighs.

    ¡°But does she have a point?¡±

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    I raise my hands to fend off the sharp exasperation in that one word. ¡°Fine. The real problem. Before I tell you what I found, I need to ask a question. What do you know about any summoners that have come to Victory?¡±

    ¡°Only what my father said to you. Beyond that, I had no idea.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Another question¡ª"

    ¡°Louuuu.¡±

    ¡°No, this is important, I swear. Why is Victory so intent on conquering the north?¡±

    She scowls. ¡°There is an army of monsters on the other side of our walls. At any moment, they could rally and storm the kingdom. Victory has the best fighters in Harvest and we can¡¯t subdue them. How do you think the rest of humanity will fare? Either we get them or they get us.¡±

    ¡°Will they? It¡¯s been centuries. When was the last time the monsters assaulted Victory? Not one, or two, or ten. I mean the army you¡¯re talking about. A hundred beasts. Two. Three. When was the last time the fort fought off a serious siege?¡±

    Her eyes narrow. ¡°That doesn¡¯t happen because the campaigns cull their numbers.¡±

    ¡°How is that enough? Apparently, no matter how many you kill, there¡¯s plenty more.¡±

    ¡°There are a dozen theories about that. Some manabeasts mature rapidly. It¡¯s possible that the adults lay their offspring in autumn, fight us winter, and the new horde is ready by spring, with plenty of time to start the cycle anew. There are those who think that us pushing deep into the north causes infighting, as the monsters battle over the newly emptied domains close to the largest concentration of food. Some think our walls intimidate them, reminding them of the peaks where they know the strongest manabeasts make their nests. What does it matter?¡±

    I can feel her growing agitated. ¡°One more question. What would it take for Victory to give up on conquering the north?¡±

    She looks at me like I just asked how to suck all the mana from the world. Or the best recipe for dragon skewers.

    ¡°Humor me.¡±

    She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. ¡°This question is¡­ridiculous. But you asked me to humor you. Let¡¯s forget the many vows, oaths, and pledges every family in the north has made to kill the Lords of Winter. Let¡¯s forget the threat they pose. Let¡¯s assume this is a world of pretend and somehow all the knights of Victory are willing to¡­give up. They can¡¯t.

    ¡°Victory has developed around its war with the north. At a rough guess, seventy percent of all adult males are soldiers. Just about all their sons are soldiers. They don¡¯t have any other skills. They don¡¯t have any desire to learn a trade. They fight. That¡¯s all. The kingdom has more than enough hunters. Do you know what it would mean if those hot-blooded men, and women, lose their cause? People who crave contest? Strong opponents? Violence and blood? Bad things.

    ¡°Not to mention the campaigns are essential for the fort¡¯s economy. You¡¯d think we¡¯d be rich with all the mines we have but all that iron goes to arming the knights. The gold we make from the campaigns buys grain, cloth, potions, saints, everything! The meat keeps the fort fed. The furs and hides keep people warm. I¡­¡±

    She shakes her head and relaxes in her bath. ¡°Like I said, the thought is ridiculous. Victory needs the campaigns. No one ever talks about what happens when we finally win. As soon as the celebration ends, some awkward questions will need to be asked. More than one scholar has hoped that our ¡®endless war¡¯ continues until the end of time. The equivalent of blasphemy, but I think it¡¯s better than the fanatics who think the James family will become northern royalty and the crazies who think upon slaying the Lords of Winter, the people of Victory will absorb their power and become something more.¡±

    ¡°Funny you said that. It¡¯s a perfect lead-in to what I want to say¡­¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-93

    I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I am about to turn a significant part of her world upside down and prepare myself for the inevitable backlash.

    ¡°The journal I read was written by an ancestor who was called upon to negotiate with the Lords of Winter. I don¡¯t know what they teach you about the original war with the north but from what I read, it was a mess. Forget Victory, that existed as an army under the control of a great general or something at the time. All of Harvest was getting its ass kicked. The First King was busy solidifying the kingdom. He didn¡¯t have the troops to spare to subdue the north without sacrificing a more integral part of the prospective kingdom.

    ¡°They were desperate. So desperate, they decided to put their fate in an art that was just starting to build a reputation. My ancestor was quite excited about proving the value of summoning. He undertook the incredibly dangerous task in hopes of being given his own territory, a land of summoners and elementals. Can you imagine? A whole territory dedicated to exploring different realms. Apparently, there was a whole kingdom like that though Bell couldn¡¯t properly translate the name. They had stable rifts, dammit! Permanent doors to benevolent realms that they used to trade with elementals. He was going to replicate that here, in Harvest! Yet for some saints forsaken reason, the Tome family are restricted to two estates and a lousy village. When we¡ª"

    ¡°Lou.¡± I stop my rant to look at Alana. ¡°Is this what you wanted to tell me?¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡± I¡¯ll be sure to investigate the travesty of what happened to my family and the legacy of all summoners but the situation in the north is more urgent. ¡°To make a long journal short, there are two separate factions in the north.¡± Alana sits up, her slightly bored expression sharpening into intense focus. ¡°There are the monstrous hordes that you all are accustomed to fighting led by the Lords of the Peaks, powerful manabeasts of limited intelligence who live at the top of the Peaks. The Lords of Winter are a separate faction, an intelligent, I¡¯m assuming sapient, civilization in the far north.¡±

    ¡°Stop.¡± Alana holds out a hand. I can almost see the thoughts swirling behind her eyes and give her plenty of time to think. ¡°Two factions. That¡­can be good news. But I should let you continue before I get too excited. I¡¯m assuming this gets worse.¡±

    ¡°Depends. My ancestor naturally chose to speak with the sapient faction. From what he wrote, the Lords of Winter don¡¯t care about Harvest but they want humans to stay out of the north. On this side of the Peaks, to be precise. My ancestor made them a deal. As long as we stay on our side, the beasts would stay on their side. If we violate that agreement, they will go with their backup plan, and eradicate humanity. Which means reigniting the ancient war. All the monsters in the north, along with the Lords of the Peaks and the Lords of Winter, charging Victory together.¡±

    I smile hesitantly at her flat expression. ¡°See? Depends.¡±

    Alana climbs out of the tub. Combining my wind and fire affinities, I send a warm gust of air her way, drying her before she can go for a towel. My little favor does nothing to improve her mood. She fishes out a nightgown from her dresser and shimmies into it. Then she climbs onto the bed, beside me. Only once she¡¯s settled comfortably does she speak. ¡°To be honest, that is much worse than I was expecting but not that bad.¡±

    I stare at her like she¡¯s a madwoman. Her words certainly suggest such. ¡°Not that bad? I just said your family¡¯s lifelong ambition is going to get all of us killed. How is that not that bad?¡±

    She covers her eyes with a hand. ¡°Assuming all of this is true, which it might not be. You put way too much faith in a single journal.¡±

    ¡°Summoners don¡¯t write lies.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re just people too.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like how the people of Victory don¡¯t give up on the campaign.¡±

    ¡°There are people who leave never to return every day.¡±

    ¡°But not the majority. If we grabbed one random boy from Victory, it¡¯d be stranger to assume he¡¯d grow up to leave than grow up to be a future knight. It¡¯s worse for summoners. A boy leaving Victory harms no one. Might embarrass him and his family, at most. If a summoner puts incorrect information in a record? The whole realm is at risk. The whole realm, Alana. No one would do that unless they are insane. And someone like that would be spotted and their records burned.¡±

    Her opposite hand waves off my objections. ¡°Assuming the journal is full of wholly truthful, unbiased information¡ª" Her sarcasm is plain as day. ¡°Everything is fine, isn¡¯t it? As long as we don¡¯t establish a presence in the north, we don¡¯t anger the Lords, there¡¯s no war. The knights kill a few monsters, get pushed back, swear vengeance next year, and everyone lives happily ever after.¡±

    ¡°I had the same thought but do you really think your family will agree to permanently give up on conquering the north?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. That¡¯s why we¡¯re not going to tell them.¡±

    Eh? ¡°What do you mean we¡¯re not going to tell them about the ancient agreement that protects the kingdom and everyone in it?¡±

    ¡°Exactly what I just said. We¡¯re not going to tell them anything about it.¡±

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    I stare at her in mute disbelief. This is ridiculous. The whole of the north is constantly and aggressively attempting to conquer it and if they ever succeed, even the slightest amount, Harvest burns. Despite that, she thinks we should just¡­not mention it? That would be incredibly risky, irresponsible, insane, and just maybe foolish.

    We can¡¯t not mention it.

    ¡­can we?

    ¡°Victory hasn¡¯t managed to take a so much as a corner of the north in five centuries. We were going to change that. Now, we aren¡¯t. Things will be as they¡¯ve always been.¡± She sighs. ¡°Thankfully, we haven¡¯t gone around announcing our plans. I¡¯m sure a few have taken guesses but since we didn¡¯t make any promises, there won¡¯t be any damage to our reputations. I imagine my family will be a bit disappointed. They¡¯re excited to see what we can do.¡±

    Where is saintly intervention when its needed? Someone please interject and argue her down because the more she talks in that flat tone, as if she¡¯s talking about the weather as opposed to the fate of humanity, the more reasonable she sounds. She makes good points but it doesn¡¯t matter¡­does it? There¡¯s no way we can keep what¡¯s in that journal to ourselves. Bell! Maybe you can convince her.

    The imp wiggles out of Kierra¡¯s arms and settles on my stomach, four red eyes looking down at me. ¡°Coo~¡± [The girl has a point. The most efficient option for preserving this kingdom would be to say nothing and secretly sabotage their efforts.]

    I shift the imp to the bed, ignoring her disappointed coo, and turn to a smirking Kierra. ¡°Tell me you don¡¯t agree with her.¡±

    ¡°You want me to lie to you, my love?¡±

    I groan. ¡°Come on! This is not a good idea!¡±

    ¡°What will telling the James of this accomplish? You mean to question their faith. The core of their identity. They will question you, ask for more proof, if they stop long enough to listen. You will have accomplished nothing. If you tell Victory at large? You will become a pariah. They would attempt to drive us away and they will continue with their war. You will have accomplished nothing.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell says smugly.

    ¡°These people have the right to know that they are seeking their own deaths. We can¡¯t be everywhere at once. What if they manage to set up their own outpost?¡±

    ¡°Five centuries, Lou. If they had any confidence in changing the state of things, everyone would know. They¡¯d be shouting it from the rooftops.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± [You can still boost your reputation by slaying a few monsters. Then Lady Geneva and I can sweep the north to make the sure the other members of the campaign have not made any progress. They are required to submit their positions and plans. It will be a simple matter, Master Lou.]

    Faced with the assault of three people whose opinions I respect, I am forced to confront the ridiculous thought that they may have a point. Telling the James will only cause problems. If I want a chance in the Abyss of them listening to me, then I need proof. Preferably a friendly Lord of Winter bearing gifts by my side to confirm what the journal says and soothe their fears.

    ¡°Okay. We don¡¯t tell your family until we have the chance to speak to the Lords of Winter.¡±

    ¡°About that¡­I don¡¯t think we should do that either.¡± Alana puts a hand on my cheek. ¡°Hear me out. We don¡¯t know anything about these¡­people besides they are smart and they want humans to stay out of the north. You, the strongest human alive, or so it appears at first glance, appear before them, asking questions. There are two ways this goes.¡±

    ¡°They try real hard to keep the peace or they lose their minds,¡± I say, showing I¡¯ve already thought of this. ¡°Seeing as they backed the peace we have now, my bet is that they give me the answers.¡±

    ¡°They were peaceful five hundred years ago. A lot can change in that time.¡±

    ¡°For you, perhaps,¡± Kierra interjects. ¡°Humans are¡­fragile. They live short lives. They are flames, starting as embers, raging to life with the right fuel, and quickly burning themselves out, becoming nothing but ash. The longer-lived races are like stone. Born strong and unblemished. Life carves into our surface, shaping us. The more brittle stones can be shattered or worn away, but most endure the test of time. Like the mountains, we are also slow to change. If they are like you, then there is no telling what they are now. If they are like me, then it is likely they are exactly the same.¡±

    Alana seems slightly perplexed and annoyed by her words. I understand. For some reason, I feel a little insulted too but Kierra¡¯s words make sense. ¡°Does your journal say which one it is?¡±

    ¡°No¡­my ancestor didn¡¯t stay long enough to learn much about them. What time he did spend with them was in an underground holding, under guard at all times when he wasn¡¯t speaking to one of their leaders. There wasn¡¯t enough goodwill for a cultural exchange.¡±

    ¡°Then we have no way of knowing. So, better to be cautious. We know these creatures are hostile to our presence in the north. You seeking them out could reignite the war too.¡±

    ¡°You want to ignore a whole civilization? Nope. That¡¯s asking too much. I¡¯m not going to pretend they aren¡¯t there.¡± There¡¯s an unknown race sharing our continent with us. Who wouldn¡¯t be curious?

    Alana sighs. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous but¡­I think I understand. But!¡± She raises a chastising finger to emphasize her point. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we have to do it now. We can take precautions. If our presence does reignite the war¡­then why not take out a few of their forces first?¡±

    She sits up. ¡°This is what I¡¯m proposing. We spend a few winters thinning the northern hordes and taking out the Lords of the Peaks. Cripple their army first. Then visit them. That way, no matter how they react, we¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    I raise a hand. ¡°Counter argument. What if slaughtering the Lords of the Peaks is seen as an act of war and they decide to kill us before we can kill them?¡±

    My future wife bites her lower lip. It¡¯s very distracting but I push down my amorous thoughts in favor of the vital conversation we¡¯re having. ¡°Was there any mention of that in this supposed oath?¡±

    ¡°My ancestor didn¡¯t write anything but what would you do if someone started systematically dismantling your army? Who sits back and lets that happen?¡±

    ¡°You have a point¡­¡±

    ¡°A question, dedia. Does this oath preclude humans or all agents of humanity?¡±

    I turn to stare at my wife, liking her devious tone. ¡°What are you thinking?¡±

    ¡°If humans are barred from the north, then send someone who is not human.¡±

    I scowl. ¡°You can¡¯t go alone, Kii. We don¡¯t know their strength. I trust you but sending you on your own against a whole civilization clearly invested in keeping their secrets is asking for too much.¡±

    ¡°Then the pets.¡±

    I look at her aghast. ¡°You want me to send Geneva?¡± There are a thousand ways that can go wrong.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Bell, you¡¯re adorable, but you¡¯re not fooling me.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡±

    I wait, but Rolly doesn¡¯t volunteer. Perhaps for the best. I can see that going terribly in a variety of ways too.

    ¡°It is not something that has to be decided tonight.¡± I yelp as Kierra pulls me against her. She dramatically sniffs me, burying her nose against my neck. ¡°Mm. Shall we skip the bath and get right to the fun?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-94-Interlude-Robert

    His first impression of the giant walls of Victory was a deep, stomach-twisting dread.

    The scale of it was beyond anything he had ever seen, which was especially impactful as Robert Quintana liked to think he had seen more than most. As the son of a simple guard, he had seen life from the perspective of a commoner and developed a strong desire for more. As the apprentice and heir of a renowned, if only in the right circles, knight, he had seen the perspective of a soldier, knowing the value of hard work and honor.

    His time as an initiate had given him another perspective. He learned that there was more to the world than swords, spells, and nobles. More he could do with his gifts than fight, as he dreamed. He¡¯d also learned that his great gifts did not immediately equate to greatness. That not everyone gifted with great power would naturally use such with the discretion and care he would assume.

    Perhaps his most valuable experiences came during his short time as a hunter. The Grand Hall was a place of learning but it could not be called a warm place. It was a place where the best casters in the world gathered to further humanity¡¯s understanding of magic and all its related fields. They took in the young talents of the kingdom and raised them to be great casters. The Hall prided itself on being the ideal nurturing ground. They did not pride themselves on being saints.

    The training received at the Grand Hall was purely transactional. The masters gave out their knowledge in return for support from the Hall to further their own objectives. Not even one¡¯s presence in the hallowed halls was free, a place among the students requiring more gold than some families would see in their lifetimes. True apprenticeships and friendships could be formed between the staff and their students but it was a rare event.

    The guilds took a wholly different approach to educating new hunters. They took the willing under their wings and treated them well. They shared their techniques and came to their aid. What did they ask for in return? Loyalty and goodwill. They asked their hunters to do good. That was all.

    Robert didn¡¯t understand it at first. He aspired to be a hero but he understood that his was a rare goal. Many aspired to be strong. Many more to be admired. They hungered for the benefits that came with such positions. Few wanted the responsibilities and the chains of honor that came with being a true hero. To be the first one to stand between the kingdom and all that would threaten it. To put the safety and prosperity of others before themselves. His teacher had told him many times that heroes were rare.

    The hunters were not heroes but the guilds seemed to have been built by them. People who brought people together. Gave them the means to protect themselves and others then sent them out to protect the world and give the same chances to others. Perhaps villains could be found in the guilds, as they could be found in all places, but the spirit behind Quest was a good one, he was sure of it.

    They had taken him under their wings too. While his teacher had much more theoretical knowledge when it came to spells and more power, the hunters did not lack for experience and expressed themselves with a frankness that had been grating but good for him in the end.

    They were no royal knights but they knew their trade. Nothing short of an army dedicated to his safety would make him feel safe during the campaign but he felt a lot better about the ordeal than he had when his teacher first suggested it knowing they¡¯d be accompanying him.

    Yet, as they rode closer to the enormous walls, his confidence waned. The many rumors surrounding the campaigns, especially their high death rates, circled in his mind until he found himself dragging his feet.

    A sudden slap to his back sent him stumbling forward. ¡°Look sharp, kid!¡± a deep voice shouted as four hunters passed him. He frowned at the man¡¯s rebuke but it was enough to bring him out of his thoughts. He swept his surroundings to distract himself further.

    Thirteen days into their journey, a group from One For All had caught up to them. Naturally, the two groups combined. With more numbers, they were less concerned about their safety and their pace increased. They covered more distance during the day and their nights were lively as the hunters invited the acolytes to their fires. A far cry from the surly tension they had traveled under before. Something many of them attributed to the callous disregard of Lourianne Tome.

    Owing to his new, wider perspective, Robert knew their group¡¯s animosity toward the noblewoman was undeserved, born of envy. Many of the rumors they whispered were highly exaggerated, if not blatant lies.

    It didn¡¯t escape anyone¡¯s notice that she hadn¡¯t ever caught up and the group from One For All didn¡¯t mention seeing another group on the road. Lourianne had left them behind, spitting on Will¡¯s good intentions. Again, not a crime, but the noblewoman wasn¡¯t doing herself any favors. When the time came, he couldn¡¯t imagine any of the acolytes taking a blow for her and he couldn¡¯t blame them.

    With the hunters, it was a foregone conclusion. She¡¯d be lucky if none of them slipped a knife in her back. Better for everyone if she stayed clear and the harmonious atmosphere of the group remained intact. Too bad none of them had any say in where they ended up. That lay solely in the hands of the commanders of Victory.

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    As the sun set, orders were shouted from the front, bringing them all to a halt. Robert stepped on top of a nearby wagon, waving off a few shouted warnings to be careful, to get a better look. Before the tall wall of the fort was a town. At first glance, it looked very large but looking closer, there weren¡¯t that many buildings. They were simply spaced far enough apart that it gave the impression of being more than they were. They were also grouped together, differentiated by their styles and colors. It was certainly the strangest settlement he¡¯d ever seen.

    He didn¡¯t have long to admire it before another order was shouted down the line and they continued into the fort itself.

    -

    He had heard all kinds of rumors about the knights of Victory. The hunters hadn¡¯t been shy with their stories. Mainly the stories focused on their strength and the extreme lengths they¡¯d traverse to preserve their honor. Those of the north did not suffer insults lightly and never turned away from a challenge. They idolized strength. Their children underwent training that could make grown men weep. Robert expected eccentricity. He expected unusual.

    He did not expect to see several dozen men standing in front of the building they were meant to be staying in viciously beating one another. They weren¡¯t even residents of the north.

    He had seen the famed knights in their distinctive dark blue armor as they marched through the fort. These men were dressed in the mismatched gear he attributed to hunters, men and women who started with nothing and spent years saving enough to buy the high-quality full plate armor standard for most knight orders.

    Robert winced as one man knocked another to the ground with a vicious blow from a mace. He was shocked to see the man prepare to brain his victim again but a ball of snow hit him in the face, snapping him out of his aggression. The apparent winner of the bout staggered off toward the building.

    There, tables were set up, stacked with barrels with attached spouts. Someone standing nearby grabbed a mug from a crate behind a table and filled it with the contents of one of the barrels before handing it to the winner, who dropped to the snow to enjoy his drink.

    ¡°Alright, everyone!¡±

    Robert turned to face the shouting Will, standing atop a wagon so that all the acolytes could see him. The hunters smiled at the young leader but went about their business. ¡°This is the bunkhouse, where we will be staying before the campaign. Take a minute and rest while I figure out our rooms. If you want, you can go explore but remember what your seniors have said. Alright, that¡¯s all.¡±

    He jumped down from the wagons. Robert hurried over to him. ¡°Commander,¡± he called, inwardly chuckling as the other man reflexively smiled. He had the feeling that the acolyte enjoyed being in a position of power. Not for the usual reasons but because he enjoyed being depended on. ¡°Are you going to ask what¡­¡± He waved toward the bouts that hadn¡¯t lost any steam. ¡°That is all about?

    ¡°I am. Victory can be a¡­wild place sometimes but this is a bit much. Not to the point I¡¯m concerned but I would like to understand what¡¯s happening before walking into it.¡±

    ¡°Mind if I join you?¡±

    ¡°Not in the slightest. Come on.¡±

    The two young men skirted the violence, making their way to one of the tables. The hunters around it gave them sideways glares but didn¡¯t stop them from advancing. The man behind the table, standing protectively beside a half-empty crate of mugs, eyed them a little harder. Will took his attention as an invitation, pasting a smile to his face as he walked up to him. ¡°Hello there. Could you tell me what¡¯s happening? Seems a bit late for such intense training.¡±

    ¡°Never too late for anything in Victory,¡± the hunter grumbled. ¡°But yeah, these are special circumstances. They¡¯re fighting to see who gets to join the monsters.¡±

    ¡°Monsters?¡±

    ¡°Guessing this was your first stop since arriving or you wouldn¡¯t be asking that. Monsters are the monsters that killed fifty hunters like it was nothing. Some of them named.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Poor bastards walked into the wrong monster¡¯s den and got mauled to death. It happens. Thing is, those same monsters are heading a force of one hundred. Being led by a group of immortals is obviously good for someone¡¯s continued existence so we¡¯re fighting for the honor. Sides, we get to drink some decent fire juice. Warms you right through.¡±

    ¡°Wait. I¡¯m sorry, you¡¯ve lost me. Immortals? Who are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°The noblewoman and the elf that caused that mess in the city. They¡¯re working for the youngest James girl.¡±

    Robert stiffened. A noblewoman and an elf. That could only mean one person, right? ¡°A woman with purple eyes?¡±

    The hunter¡¯s gaze became more suspicious. ¡°You know her then?¡±

    ¡°There aren¡¯t many that don¡¯t know of Lourianne Tome at the Grand Hall.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see. You aren¡¯t guildies.¡±

    ¡°No, but can you please explain what Lady Tome and her household have to do with all this?¡± Will said, his tone thick with disbelief.

    The hunter shrugged. ¡°Like I said, they work for the youngest James¡ª"

    ¡°Alana?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the name. They work for her and we want to work for them so we¡¯re beating each other half to death for the privilege. The pretty thing running this madness keeps everyone alive though so I guess it¡¯s pretty harmless in the end.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I got that part, but why?¡±

    The hunter turned his head. ¡°Like I said, they¡¯re immortal. If anyone¡¯s going to survive this place, it¡¯ll be them.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re avoiding the question,¡± Robert said, ignoring the look Will shot him. ¡°What happened? Why are all these men so desperate to win that, no, Alana¡¯s approval? What makes you think you have a better chance with them than experienced commanders?¡±

    ¡°Look, I¡¯m not ruining my chances by running my mouth,¡± the hunter snapped. ¡°You want to know? Go ask the creature.¡±

    ¡°Yes~¡±

    A cute voice drew their attention. The hunters around them shuffled away. The man they¡¯d been speaking to bowed his head and hunched his shoulders. Will glanced between them, not understanding their reaction. Robert was unaware, his attention wholly occupied by the creature walking towards them.

    Despite the cold and snow, she was dressed in only a thin white dress and didn¡¯t seem the least bit uncomfortable. The reason most likely lay in her inhumanness. Despite her gray skin, small dainty horns, whip-like tail, and hooves, she was still one of the most beautiful women Robert had ever seen. If he knew nothing of the creature, he might have been taken by the fresh-faced innocence of her doll-like features. But when he looked at her, all he saw was the creature holding down his former teammate, cackling as she had her way with the girl.

    Lourianne Tome¡¯s pet stopped in front of them, smiling broadly while her tail whipped back and forth. ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask me, little hero~¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-95-Interlude-Robert

    ¡°You! You¡¯re Lourianne Tome¡¯s pet, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The creature put a hand over her chest and bowed, her tail wrapping around her waist. ¡°I am Geo, her contracted thrall.¡± She straightened up, smile turning bashful. ¡°A shame you didn¡¯t remember. I had hoped I left a better impression.¡±

    Robert resisted the urge to scoff. She had definitely left an impression.

    ¡°The two of you are familiar with each other?¡± Will asked, looking between the two of them.

    Robert hesitated. His first instinct was to denounce any such relationship and warn the man away from the creature. However, he was not blind to the fact that it, and by extension Lourianne, had gained some matter of influence over the hunters in the fort. It was never good to talk bad about a noble in their seat of power.

    His hesitation gave the succubus room to speak. ¡°Oh, we are quite familiar with one another. The young hero has seen more of me than most.¡± She flashed him a charming smile. For some reason, an unpleasant shiver ran down his spine. ¡°I didn¡¯t have the time to tell you before but all is forgiven. Not even a hero is absent of desire. Especially a young man like yourself.¡±

    ¡°Oh hoh.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t listen to that¡ª" Robert grimaced, swallowing his harsh words. ¡°I have no idea what she¡¯s talking about.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± The succubus¡¯ tail whipped faster. ¡°You must be experienced indeed to so casually forget two attractive women engaged in an act of passion.¡±

    Will shook his head with a chuckle and a slight blush. ¡°Suppose that¡¯s what talent¡ªhm?¡± He faced Robert with furrowed brows and a slight frown. ¡°Hey now. What did you do that requires forgiveness?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s talking about!¡± He scowled as Will¡¯s suspicion continued. ¡°Really!¡±

    ¡°Shall I refresh your memory?¡±

    ¡°You be quiet!¡±

    She ignored him. ¡°I don¡¯t blame the young hero for being flustered. Peeking in on a private moment between lovers isn¡¯t an accomplishment one is keen to share with his peers. But there is no need to be embarrassed. I understand the fierce desires that can cloud the mind and suppress good sense. A small allowance, owed to the future lives you¡¯ll save.¡±

    Her words sounded like they were meant to absolve him of his transgression but they were no help. Will¡¯s mild suspicion turned to strong disapproval. ¡°I¡ª" Robert instinctively glanced around. His heart sank as he noticed several other men who had been eavesdropping on the conversation judging him. ¡°It wasn¡¯t like that.¡±

    ¡°So, you didn¡¯t peep on two ladies?¡± Will asked.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Robert considered lying but he¡¯d never been good at it. Especially when he was already so flustered. Not to mention the thrall. She seemed to be enjoying his discomfort. Denying it would only drag out this horrid situation and he had no doubt she would be happy for every extra second he suffered. He wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she were doing it on orders from Lourianne herself. It seemed like something the sadistic noblewoman would plan and was the only reason he could think of for why the creature sought him out. ¡°I can explain.¡±

    Will sighed. ¡°Robert¡­I understand the temptation but that¡¯s¡ª"

    ¡°No! It¡¯s not like I was hiding in a closet like a creep. They were doing that stuff out in the open.¡±

    Robert felt vindicated as Will turned to the thrall. He didn¡¯t look at her with the same recrimination. His expression was quite hard to read. He seemed at a loss of words.

    ¡°Bobby is quite right. We got a little carried away and couldn¡¯t wait to get back to a room.¡±

    ¡°See?¡± Robert said. He could hardly be blamed for watching if they had no concern for privacy.

    ¡°Oh my. I wouldn¡¯t want the future hero¡¯s morals eroded too far. Do remember, Bobby, there was nothing forcing you to watch. A gentleman would have closed his eyes and walked away. But you aren¡¯t a gentleman, are you?¡±

    He sputtered, struggling to form a proper response.

    ¡°No. You¡¯re a horny boy with a dirty mind. Admit it. You liked what you saw, didn¡¯t you? That¡¯s why you didn¡¯t turn away. Why you watched until the end. All that talent but you¡¯re still just a useless pervert in the end. Useless because you can¡¯t do anything about it, can you? All you can do is watch with your hand down your pants¡ª"

    Will cleared his throat. ¡°Eh-hem. Perhaps you two can have this personal conversation in a more¡­personal place? I don¡¯t mean to be rude but my people are waiting for word and it¡¯s far too cold to stand around outside for long.¡±

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    ¡°I imagine the children playing soldier lack the discipline to wait. Very well. Will, was it? Please ask whatever questions you want.¡±

    Features funny from the insult directed at the other acolytes, Will still managed to keep his tone pleasant and his words polite. ¡°Can you explain what¡¯s going on with these men?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rather simple. Alana was given the authority to take command of the hunters. However, she has her own goals for this campaign. Goals that require a hundred hunters, no more. It was a bit of a problem when every hunter in the north volunteered so I have been put in charge of selecting her forces. This is another step in the selection process and not the last.¡±

    ¡°No offense meant but what is so good about this offer that these men are willing to beat each other senseless for the opportunity?¡±

    What he left unsaid was how unbelievable it was. Robert agreed. He respected Alana, though he questioned her ability to judge someone¡¯s character, at least when blinded by romance. However, he wouldn¡¯t choose to follow her over the more experienced commanders of Victory. He couldn¡¯t imagine why men who should have experienced the campaigns would choose to do so.

    ¡°Are you unaware of our house¡¯s abilities? My summoner is a being of peak physical prowess. Strong enough to bend an iron rod, sturdy enough to deflect blades, and more stamina than a team of draft horses. Her wife is an elf with a high coefficient and a pure physical affinity. If you don¡¯t know what that means, a man could have his heart torn from his chest and his throat ripped out but she could still save his life. Then there is me.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°I am a skilled caster in my own right and have enough experience to guide Alana in any matters she is lacking. That doesn¡¯t mention all the many other resources at our disposal.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It isn¡¯t hard to see why the men are desperate to be chosen. People do enjoy being on the winning side.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see.¡±

    ¡°Feel free to bring the little kiddies through, no one will hurt them. Let me save you a little time. None of you are up for consideration. Ah, except for you, Bobby. I wouldn¡¯t dare turn away someone of your abilities.¡±

    ¡°No¡ª"

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so quick to refuse~¡± The thrall¡¯s tone remained pleasant and soft but Robert couldn¡¯t bring himself to speak over her. ¡°Go on. Have a drink. Let the men tell you what you want to turn down.¡± She turned to meet the eyes of the hunter behind the table and he nodded cautiously. ¡°Unfortunately, I can¡¯t stand around chatting all day. It was good seeing you, Bobby. Don¡¯t be a stranger~¡±

    With another laugh, the thrall walked away, tail swinging lightly.

    ¡°Well,¡± Will said once he was sure she was out of earshot. ¡°She is certainly¡­interesting. Hard to imagine she¡¯s not human but the evidence is plain as day, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Over here boys,¡± the hunter behind the table called out. He beckoned them with a hand until they wandered over then grabbed two mugs from the crate at his feet. He shook the snow off them before filling them both from one of the barrels. ¡°Drink¡¯s too good to refuse. Go on.¡± He held out the mugs until they took them. ¡°Sip on it though. This Herbanacle stuff is strong enough to knock a dragon on its ass.¡±

    ¡°What was she talking about?¡± Robert asked. Under the hunter¡¯s stern eyes, he took a sip from the mug. The moment the liquid touched his tongue, he recoiled at the strong, earthly flavor. It was like drinking liquid dirt¡­but then it wasn¡¯t. He reflexively swallowed and a trail of fire burned its way to his gut, negating the chill. He hesitantly took another sip.

    The hunter nodded in approval. ¡°Told you. The monsters took out fifty hunters. At the same time. Then they walked away like they¡¯d fought pests instead of named hunters. One of them even had her head taken off. Stood up the next moment like someone had just clipped her hair.¡±

    Another hunter laughed. ¡°Hah! I¡¯ve seen haircuts more damaging than that. Nothing happened, you bastard. We blinked and it was like nothing had happened.¡±

    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t that simple. She turned into some weird purple slime creature first, then turned back into a woman. Must have been a creature with multiple brains. Only way she could have survived.¡±

    ¡°Slimes don¡¯t have brains. Just like you, idiot.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Robert shouted, almost dropping his mug in surprise. He had latched onto two words. Purple slime. It was ridiculous. But in the wake of the qualifiers, he¡¯d made inquiries about the purple slime that had swallowed his mount. What he considered the starting point for all the terrible events that followed.

    Lanston had thought it to be a unique evolution of a slime. No one else had been able to offer a better explanation. No one else had ever heard of such a creature.

    There was a theory he had briefly considered. If there were no records of the creature, it could be because it was not of their world. There had been a summoner relatively close by. However, he had quickly dismissed the thought. The world was a big place. There were corners of the continent humanity had yet to discover. Manabeasts evolved and mutated every day. Beyond that, he hadn¡¯t met Lourianne Tome yet. There was no reason for her to target him.

    Yet, here a purple slime was being mentioned and she was involved. ¡°Do you mean the elf had her head taken off?¡±

    ¡°No, the Tome woman.¡±

    ¡°And¡­she turned into a purple slime?¡±

    ¡°Before turning back into a woman, head reattached.¡± The hunter shook his head. ¡°Craziest thing I¡¯ve ever seen. We figure she¡¯s got a physical affinity she¡¯s been hiding. Two master healers of that skill? Of course everyone¡¯s clamoring to ride their capes. Those monsters are going to carve through those other monsters and anyone who goes with them is going to make a whole lot of coin.¡±

    The hunters surrounding them cheered. Will continued to ask questions about the fight but Robert couldn¡¯t hear him over the buzzing in his ears. He didn¡¯t know if it was the powerful drink he¡¯d taken a large swallow of or his rising temper. It wasn¡¯t the immature anger of before. This was a colder rage. One that allowed him to seek answers over immediate satisfaction.

    He knew he couldn¡¯t hope for Lourianne to answer him out of decency. The only thing the brute seemed to respect was power. He was too weak to get the answers he wanted. Too weak for her to take him seriously. But he wouldn¡¯t be weak forever.

    One day, he¡¯d be the next Harvest Hero. One day, he¡¯d have the strength to bring villains like Lourianne Tome the justice she so richly deserved.

    Then he¡¯d confront her.

 ARC 6-Winter War-96

    Tomorrow is the fated day. In the morning, when the permanently cloudy sky brightens from black to the light gray, thousands of Victory¡¯s knights and hundreds of hunters will march through the north gate. Their purpose, to conquer everything their eyes can see. Failing that, slaying a lot of monsters and claiming a little slice of land as their own. Something no one has managed in close to five hundred years. That hasn¡¯t dampened their zeal for the cause.

    Most people find it difficult to continue something they fail at horribly once. The people of the north have gotten their asses handed to them neatly hundreds of times over and still go back for more. It is as insane as it is admirable.

    A part of me regrets that I have to sincerely wish for their failure. The poor knights of the north have no idea that completing their quest will re-ignite a horrific war that will engulf the kingdom. Until I know the extent of the threat the forces beyond the mountains pose, I cannot allow Victory to succeed. Even if it means I have to sabotage them from the inside.

    Again, the thoughts feel¡­scummy. Especially while standing before the forces we, or really Alana, will be leading.

    We originally decided on a hundred hunters. Large enough to protect themselves from the northern hordes, small enough to be easily managed. After reading my ancestor¡¯s journal, our original plan to be the first to establish an outpost in the north has to be put aside. Now, we will pad our reputations the traditional way, through blood. We¡¯re going to spill a lot of it. Better, we¡¯re going to make sure the hunters spill a lot of it, earn plenty of crowns, and go home singing our praises without a single casualty. Hopefully.

    Unfortunately, nothing ever goes according to plan. Our original hundred has grown to a whopping three hundred.

    How? Simple. Scheming from the many factions within the fort. As much as they like to pretend they are a separate species, the people of the north are still people. They are still power hungry and dastardly in their attempts to seize more of it. They are still petty and ruthless in the pursuit of revenge. They are still desperately searching for love.

    All three motives are present this time, and maybe a few more I¡¯m unaware of. The first group that joined were sent by, of all people, Alana¡¯s father, as her escort.

    At first, I thought it was the same as every other dismissive act committed by her family but this is a real tradition. Every James child is given an honor guard on their first campaign. They are not there to fight, merely to advise and report back to the duke on the heir¡¯s ability. In the worse case, they¡¯ll save an heir who¡¯s about to die but Alana says it¡¯s such an embarrassment, most James would rather die than suffer such dishonor. When I asked her if she felt the same, she wouldn¡¯t meet my eyes when she said no.

    I really hate this place.

    This is the smallest addition to our forces at only five. Standing in front of the one hundred hunters in ten columns of ten are five lady knights from the Waning Stars, the female counterpart to the Order of the Bleak Moon. Unexpected additions but they didn¡¯t seem like they would be a problem. They might even be helpful.

    I don¡¯t know if the same can be said for the next group. They certainly have the potential to be useful. In fact, I¡¯m sure the group of one hundred and fifty knights from the Bleak Moons outclass the hunters beside them by several magnitudes. The question is, are they here to be useful? I really hope they are because we can¡¯t get rid of them without causing trouble, apparently.

    The large group of knights is a ¡°gift¡± from a certain rabbit. Yulia supposedly convinced her husband, this Devil character, to send his men to bolster Alana¡¯s forces. Her official reasoning is that she doesn¡¯t trust the hunters not to drag her into trouble, which was the best thing she could have said to get her way.

    She didn¡¯t insult Alana¡¯s ability and made herself out to be a model big sister. Beyond that, it¡¯s a good gift. The problem is, I don¡¯t know whether Yulia did it to attach her husband to our success and make herself look better or because she¡¯s genuinely worried for her sister.

    In a rare turn of events, not even my succubi are able to shed light on the subject. I hate wanton reading of minds but sending an armed force as a ¡°gift¡± is enough to trump my hesitance to abuse the power of my elementals. They both tell me the strongest emotion motivating Yulia is concern, proving she does care about what happens to Alana, but just because that is a strong motivator, doesn¡¯t mean she isn¡¯t also plotting. It¡¯s too suspicious that her concern always seems to benefit her in some way.

    They couldn¡¯t tell me anything more without using an intrusive spell, which is something I don¡¯t want to risk. Alana tells me that since there are creatures beyond the mountain that can enthrall fighters, mental affinity artifacts are more common in the north than anywhere else. Not worth the risk.

    The most unexpected group we got saddled with is the acolytes. I¡¯m still not sure how. The usual method is to break them up into small groups and distribute them amongst the different armies. About five acolytes were assigned to every fifty soldiers. Spread the burden out so it¡¯s less noticeable.

    This year, there appears to be some grand strategy in the works. Something that they don¡¯t want outsiders to even know about, let alone have the opportunity to ruin. Experienced hunters are barely tolerable but bumbling children with only two or three spells under their belts? No.

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    Surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t Zach or his mother who screwed us, but the friendly barbarian, Kalise. Or, not so friendly. She¡¯s been a little hostile since Kierra cut her off from the good stuff. I don¡¯t know what she wants stringing that woman along like she is but we had to pay a small price.

    It didn¡¯t take but a moment for the mother-son duo to support the proposition. Yulia stayed silent. Alana gave it a decent effort but the duke came down on their side. And so, we are stuck with twenty-seven acolytes.

    The last of the numbers are made of representatives from the other knight orders. All six that inhabit the village outside Victory. Alana¡¯s reasoning was that since she¡¯d been saddled with more bodies than she originally intended, she might as well bring on two or three dozen more to pad her reputation.

    They make quite the sight, lined up together. Very colorful. As I¡¯m not in charge of this show, I¡¯m free to sweep my eyes over the assembled fighters and gawk at my leisure. Bell seems disinterested, four eyes hooded as she lounges in my arms. Kierra is much the same, leaning against me while laying her cheek on my head. I imagine we don¡¯t strike impressive figures at the moment. Thankfully, our reputations are strong enough that we can afford a sloppy public appearance or two.

    Alana, as the official commander of this lot, is taking the meeting much more seriously. She cuts quite the dashing figure in her dark blue armor and matching cape lined with white fur. A silver helm in the shape of a wolf¡¯s head is held under one arm and her usual sword hangs at her waist. Her short blonde hair is held in place by a silver clip in the shape of a bird with its wings spread wide and a pair of black gloves hangs from a new belt with several pouches.

    All gifts from her family. Rather than well-deserved acknowledgement, I see it more as physical manifestations of their high expectations. She was happy to receive them anyway so I held back my opinion.

    Beside her is Geneva. The don in the guise of a thrall looks a little out of place in her simple white dress but thankfully, she has quite the reputation too. I heard a few mutterings as we took our places in front of the crowd. Seems she takes after my wife when it comes to training and tests. The hell she put them through means the hunters wouldn¡¯t look down on her even if she came in nothing but her unmentionables and did handstands.

    I settle my curiosity as Alana takes a deep breath, preparing to speak.

    ¡°The ancestors watch over us,¡± she says, an invisible Rolly amplifying her voice. ¡°Long ago, when this fort was founded, they swore an oath. No matter how long it took, no matter how many need give their lives, we will conquer the north.¡±

    The knights give a short cry of approval, startling the hunters and acolytes, a few of which shake their heads and mutter about crazy northerners. I focus on trying to keep my expression neutral. I suppose conquering the north isn¡¯t entirely off the table but it certainly isn¡¯t as simple as these people are imagining.

    ¡°This will be my first campaign. My first time fighting the monstrous hordes. I am not too ambitious. I won¡¯t make any grand promises to take the heads of the Lords of Winter. There is only one goal for myself and my warriors. Kill!

    ¡°Tomorrow, we will go beyond those mountains and we will kill every monster that crosses our path. We¡¯ll kill them until we reek so deeply of their kin¡¯s blood, none dare approach us. Then we¡¯ll track them to their nests and their dens and we¡¯ll kill more. We don¡¯t stop until we¡¯ve spilled enough blood to drench every fighter here from head to toe and collect enough gold to send everyone back with heavy pockets!¡±

    This time, the hunters cheer, their voices merging with the war cry of the knights. They also drag on and Alana raises her hand for silence. Undisciplined as they are, they don¡¯t recognize the silent command. It takes a sharp, piercing whistle from Rolly to cut through the noise and focus them.

    ¡°Orders have been given to your respective leaders. Our strategy is simple but that doesn¡¯t excuse complacency. We have many advantages, including two powerful healers. That isn¡¯t enough to save idiots. I won¡¯t waste my time trying. And if you endanger my people doing stupid things like disobeying orders or going off on your own, you better hope the monsters kill you cause if they don¡¯t, I¡¯m handing you over to the elf. If you don¡¯t know why you should be horrified by that fate, ask around.

    ¡°This is your last chance for preparations. Make sure your blades are sharp and your armor fits well. We will be bringing supplies but it always makes sense to pack your own. It¡¯s cold. A sleeping roll might not be enough. Talk to your seniors if you don¡¯t know the kinds of beasts we¡¯ll be facing. And, most importantly, write your dying words. No one thinks they¡¯ll be the unlucky bastard who gets buried beneath the snow. It¡¯ll be too late for regrets then.¡±

    What a terrible note to end a speech on. The hunters and acolytes certainly think so, unnerved by the ending to what should have been a rousing speech. It¡¯s perfect for Victory as the knights give the loudest war cry so far before dispersing. I hurry to follow Alana, slipping out of Kierra¡¯s arms. The elf doesn¡¯t even stumble as she sleepily trails behind us.

    ¡°That was pretty good. I think I might have fallen for you again.¡±

    Alana gives me a quick glance before turning away, face a little pink. It could just be the cold but I¡¯ll take the win anyway. ¡°You think? I didn¡¯t look nervous?¡±

    ¡°Not at all.¡± Maybe a little grim but certainly not nervous.

    She lets out a little breath of relief. ¡°Good. I didn¡¯t want to bother but it¡¯s tradition. It¡¯s not like I told them anything they didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Weird tradition.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. Apparently, because the commanders of the previous campaigns died so often, an army could march without knowing the face of their commander. Therefore, before anyone takes command of a group, they have to make a speech, so the knights recognize who¡¯s in charge.¡±

    Wow. That¡¯s dark. ¡°That¡¯s, uh, practical?¡±

    She huffs out a little laugh. ¡°Are you ready for tonight?¡±

    Another tradition. Before any campaign, a large feast is held throughout the fort. A night of good eating and fun memories to prepare them for the nightmare ahead. The commanders of the different armies are invited to the James estate to dine with the duke himself. It¡¯s an informal dinner but these things always come with some pomp. It¡¯ll certainly be interesting having so many people at one table.

    ¡°Mm. I don¡¯t have to do anything but eat my fill.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. They¡¯ll try to bait you into boasting. Making difficult promises. Our position is unassailable. The only way we can take damage is if we sabotage ourselves.¡± After a moment of hesitation, she grabs my hand. ¡°Just try to have fun. It¡¯s our last night. Things get difficult from here, even for us.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t go getting her hopes up.¡± I point a finger at the bored elf, pushed to the limits of her patience. I have to commend her for not running off already. She really does try to fight her nature, the lovable woman. No one has perfect control all the time but she tries.

    ¡°Trust me, Lou. At the risk of cursing our comrades, if the north doesn¡¯t give the two of you a challenge, she won¡¯t be the only one who¡¯s disappointed.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-97

    This really isn¡¯t my idea of a party.

    When people started throwing around the word banquet, I got my hopes up. I should have known better than to expect anything from this dour place. Honestly, I feel stupid. As if they¡¯re going to have music and dancing. I doubt they¡¯d waste the wood to make a lyre let alone allow someone to practice it. There are no fanciful decorations, which is probably a blessing as they consider stuffed corpses fashionable. No performers, ridiculously expensive finery, or dramatics.

    The only change from dinner any other night is the number of people at the long dining table. A bunch of old men have taken up almost all the empty seats. Sigh. That¡¯s ungenerous to them. We have quite a distinguished group and even a few pretty faces. The female commanders are as common as the males. Interesting. Power is the great equalizer but tradition is a stubborn bastard. It¡¯s a rare sight to see daughters running anything in the capital. I suppose Victory has moved beyond that practice.

    A few interesting faces make up for the lack of pomp. Seated next to the duke, even before Eleanor, is a woman that looks incredibly similar to him, down to his perfectly blank expression. Alana¡¯s explanation of her family leaves me to believe this is Aunt Anastasia, the duke¡¯s elder sister and the current head of the Order of the Waning Stars.

    She¡¯s as cold as her brother, if not colder. It¡¯s not hard to imagine why. The left side of her face is covered by a black half-mask, held in place by a diagonal strap that goes over her eye. Alana tells me that Victory has some of the best healers in the kingdom. That says something about the extent of her injuries if she still has to wear that mask.

    Another interesting character is the man sitting beside the bunny. I¡¯ve heard many things about the man known as the Northern Devil. Except his name. No one has ever mentioned his name, which seems to be purposeful. I¡¯ve known people who¡¯ve done worse things to cultivate a reputation.

    He¡¯s not what I imagined when I thought of Yulia¡¯s partner. Somehow, despite all the rumors that make him out to be a beast, I could only imagine a prince-like man with the woman with beauty worthy of a princess. The Devil isn¡¯t an ugly man, speaking objectively, but he wouldn¡¯t turn heads on the streets of the capital. He is rather plain, being of average height and looks. His body is strong, his arms straining the fabric of his shirt, with short, dark hair that has been teased into standing up, like a small sea of thorns. I say teased into that shape because I refuse to believe that is natural.

    The most remarkable thing about the man is his eyes. The black irises are unique enough but they are also in a permanent squint, it seems. It gives the impression that he is always glaring. No wonder he has the reputation he does. I can see people misconstruing a lot of his words from his looks, dragging him into a lot of fights. It¡¯s the kind of life that creates a Devil, especially in a place like Victory.

    There are two more interesting faces, because of how unexpected they are. Though thinking of it, it¡¯s not that surprising. Alana did mention that Sir Pucky was a friend of her father¡¯s. Lancecain, the heroic looking young man I met while escorting Cloud out of Victory, shares his last name so they must be close. It makes sense that they can claim two seats at the duke¡¯s table.

    As usual, an oppressive silence hangs over the table as the first course is brought out. The duke is the first to break it. ¡°The ancestors are always with us but they are closest on the eve of battle. Once more, we march against the north¡¯s enemies. Always, we march for Victory. Fight well. If it is your time to meet the ancestors, make sure you can speak on your last moments with pride.¡±

    He ends his speech by spooning a bit of his soup, which is the cue for the rest of us to eat. Some do it with more gusto than others. A man with a head full of silver hair picks his bowl up and slurps it down loudly.

    ¡°Disgusting.¡± Anastasia has a voice as cold as her ice blue eye. She spears the man with a glare. ¡°You¡¯ve been invited to the duke¡¯s table. The least you can do is show decent manners.¡±

    ¡°Pah!¡± The man is unaffected by her reproach. ¡°I¡¯m seeking death with this campaign.¡± He certainly is a little old to be fighting a war. Despite that, his words sound almost cheerful. ¡°How about you forgive me this one time? It¡¯s my dying wish.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been making dying wishes for four years, Thomas,¡± the Devil grouches. His deep voice doesn¡¯t match his stature. ¡°A dog has more shame.¡±

    ¡°Darling.¡± Yulia places a hand on his arm and flashes a big smile his way. He visibly melts. ¡°This is a banquet. It¡¯s fine if he relaxes a little, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say, snowflake.¡± His voice is soft and doting. I try not to stare as they share a brief kiss, the Devil settling in his seat with a satisfied smile after. Here I thought my lovers had me whipped. This bastard is completely beholden to the little bunny and seems very happy about it.

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    ¡°You should listen to your wife more,¡± the old man says. ¡°Perhaps some of her good reputation will rub off on you.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps her husband will rub off on her,¡± Anastasia counters. Her glare moves to the eldest James daughter. Yulia doesn¡¯t shrug it off, hanging her head under the pressure exerted by the older woman. ¡°One campaign is a disgrace.¡±

    Yulia winces but holds her tongue. It¡¯s her mother that comes to her defense.

    ¡°One is enough. She has chosen her path. A mother contributes to Victory the same as a warrior.¡±

    ¡°Yes. The next generation of the James. Or the Jamesuns. Unless my brother has made a decision about his successor?¡±

    While everyone turns to the duke, I lean toward Alana. ¡°Jamesuns?¡±

    ¡°The James that aren¡¯t the main family,¡± Alana mutters. ¡°According to tradition, they aren¡¯t allowed to use the James name and none of their children may inherit the name.¡±

    I pull back, chewing on that knowledge. It¡¯s nothing strange. Many noble families have similar traditions. This one isn¡¯t even the harshest. I¡¯ve heard of families where all the branch families¡¯ children are forcefully sterilized. Some are just killed. Asking them to take another name is pretty tame in my opinion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t start,¡± Eleanor chides.

    ¡°I see you aren¡¯t excited to hear my evaluation of your children,¡± Anastasia mocks. I think it¡¯s clear the two of them don¡¯t get along. ¡°Very well.¡± I stiffen as her eyes move to Alana. ¡°What about the youngest? Is this your first and only campaign?¡±

    Alana handles the attention much better than her sister. She meets her aunt¡¯s gaze without flinching. ¡°No.¡±

    For the first time, her aunt¡¯s severe expression softens. The tiniest amount. I think. ¡°Good. You made me wonder. I would have thought you¡¯d have joined the Stars by now. I was prepared to make an exception for your studies.¡±

    ¡°I am learning plenty from my current teachers.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the Grand Hall can provide adequate instruction. It might be better this way. No unnecessary agendas involved.¡± I follow her gaze to Sir Pucky, who looks almost as uncomfortable under her glare as Yulia did. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Polluck? You¡¯re normally so eager to run your mouth in front of my brother. Nothing to say?¡±

    The knight clears his throat. ¡°I was simply enjoying the fine food, Dame Jamesun.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Not worried that the youngest will set her bannerwoman on you for presuming to wed her off to your stud?¡±

    I freeze. Ah, I feel like a bit of an idiot. Lancecain, a young light caster and the heir to the only other light caster in Victory. What better match could there be? Two light casters are great. The only thing better is a whole family of them.

    Affinities are passed down through the blood. Having two parents with it significantly increases the chances of the children having it. And even if they didn¡¯t, that much talent is sure to give rise to impressive casters. Maybe even another Mr. Talented.

    I give Alana a look. She looks nervous. That is all the confirmation I need. Her hand on my knee stops me from immediately reacting. An unnecessary precaution. I haven¡¯t settled on an emotion to react to.

    Pucky laughs, slightly nervously. ¡°You misunderstand. I simply extolled on the virtues of my apprentice, like any proud master. I am also aware of the virtues of Lady Alana. My words were just the meddling of an old man wishing the best for two outstanding talents.¡±

    ¡°You presume to know what¡¯s best for my niece then.¡± Anastasia scoffs. ¡°What about you, Lancecain? Planning on proposing soon?¡±

    The young man suffers her attention with grace. ¡°Alana and I are friends. I have far too few achievements to worry about getting married. Though any man who takes her hand will be lucky indeed.¡±

    He turns toward her and smiles. I grit my teeth. Alana¡¯s grip on my knee tightens.

    ¡°You will not marry my daughter.¡±

    The whole table looks toward the duke, most with shock. Kalise laughs. ¡°What¡¯s this? Are you feeling protective of the youngest? I thought you approved of the match.¡±

    He only looks to Alana¡­and nods. She flushes and moves her hand from my knee, looking bashful.

    ¡°Oh, I get it.¡± Kalise looks at Alana, then to me, and smiles wider. ¡°Eh, not every tree needs to bear fruit, I guess.¡±

    ¡°You underestimate what a strong will can accomplish,¡± Kierra says.

    ¡°No¡­really?¡± She seems inordinately excited. ¡°That¡¯s impossible. Isn¡¯t it? But you do have a pure affinity. Be honest with me, elf.¡±

    ¡°I am capable of many things. My Lou, more.¡±

    ¡°Can we change the discussion?¡± Alana asks quickly. ¡°We have all the commanders of the campaign gathered. Perhaps we should be discussing strategy or past battles. Anything else, really.¡±

    The old man with no table matters laughs uproariously. ¡°Hah! We¡¯ve been talking nothing but war for the last few weeks and it¡¯ll be all we focus on for the next several weeks. Banquets are when we forget the fighting, mostly by embarrassing each other, gahaha!¡±

    ¡°The old man has a point,¡± the Devil says. ¡°So? Who screwed you ahead of sunny boy over there?¡±

    ¡°Darling!¡±

    ¡°Sorry, snowflake. Who wooed you with poetry and pretty flowers?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask your wife?¡± Zach says after setting down his cup. His face has a flush to it. Eh? The servants haven¡¯t even come around for refills. Don¡¯t tell me he can¡¯t handle his drink? ¡°Ancestors know she has ears everywhere. And it¡¯s not a secret.¡±

    ¡°Alana¡¯s romantic pursuits are her business,¡± Yulia says, followed by what I think is meant to be a reassuring nod.

    One Alana is not reassured by given her scowl. ¡°Apparently it isn¡¯t. Fine. Since everyone is so interested¡­¡± She turns to me. Are you asking for permission? I grin enthusiastically. Flushed face ruining her stoic expression, she turns back to the table full of old fighters getting excited over bedroom gossip. ¡°It¡¯s Lou. My bannerwoman. She¡¯s the only one I want to marry and it won¡¯t get in the way of having children if that¡¯s what we want to do, later.¡±

    I can¡¯t stop myself from shooting a smug look toward the husband that would have been. Lancecain smiles and offers me a heartfelt, ¡°Congratulations.¡± It feels disgusting. I completely understand what Alana means when she says he makes her uncomfortable. Such blatant goodwill is unsettling.

 ARC 6-Winter War-98

    The banquet gets rowdier as the knights get a few cups of wine in them. In payment for browbeating Alana into saying she wants to marry me, I told Bell to mix two barrels of watered down Herbanacle, the same as provided to the hunters during Geneva¡¯s selection process. Giving Howie¡¯s drinks straight to the unsuspecting seems irresponsible. They should all have strong physiques and a stronger tolerance, it¡¯s better to start them off slow.

    A good decision because it doesn¡¯t take long for those who indulge to become drunk. It¡¯s amusing watching the distinguished personalities devolve into immature adolescents, bragging about their own accomplishments and getting swiftly slapped down by someone calling them out on their embellishments or retelling a suitably embarrassing tale. The duke refrains, refusing to touch the shroom juice, but Kalise is the worst of the lot. By Kierra¡¯s request, she skipped past the watered-down mess and is drinking straight from a bottle.

    ¡°Pah!¡± She lets out an explosive breath after downing a large swig of the bottle. ¡°Ancestors! I say the youngest should marry the cocky cat for this alone. Good job roping that one into the family.¡±

    My normally easily embarrassed saint has also had one too many cups of shroom juice. She¡¯s much sturdier than she used to be but this is a drink brewed to intoxicate elves.

    Two things happen when Alana drinks. She gets clumsy and she speaks her mind with no filter. I find it adorable, of course. She thinks it¡¯s embarrassing when she doesn¡¯t outright deny it. Which is why I¡¯m surprised she touched the stuff. Must have mistakenly believed that a few weeks under Kierra¡¯s not-so-gentle care gave her a much stouter constitution.

    She¡¯s drunk. Drunk enough that instead of bearing the latest scrutiny with grace, she hiccups and leans into me, face red. ¡°Not marrying her for the booze,¡± she mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.

    Kalise, of course, doesn¡¯t let it end there. And no one else steps in, watching the show with interest. ¡°Hoho. Bragging, are you? Alright, then. Go on. What caught your eye?¡±

    A finger pokes my cheek. ¡°Pretty¡­¡±

    The very sober me endures the snickering of the gathered soldiers with a small grin. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°A sucker for a pretty face, eh?¡± Kalise takes another swig of the bottle. ¡°There are worse reasons.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Alana drops her head to my shoulder. ¡°Gonna build me a castle.¡±

    ¡°If you want.¡± I put a hand on her head. In return, she puts a hand on my thigh and starts to rub. Oi. I know she¡¯s got a bit of a thing for watching and maybe being watched, but this is really not the place. It¡¯s still innocent so I leave her be.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a question,¡± a female knight says after slamming her empty cup down. She points a wavering finger in our direction. ¡°Are you the second wife? Or are both of them married to you? Or are both of you married to the elf?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°That was not one question. If you are asking who the head of the family is, then it is Lou.¡±

    Thomas, the old man who has been enjoying himself the most, without question, spills some of his drink as he doubles over with laughter. ¡°A James daughter as a second wife. Haha, the ancestors must be turning in their graves. What does her father think?¡±

    The duke turns to me. It is an extra challenge to keep a straight face as Alana¡¯s hand moves closer to my crotch and I catch her fingers before they can go somewhere dangerous. ¡°As long as she is satisfied.¡±

    Eleanor, a faint flush to her face, scoffs. ¡°From what the servants say, she is very satisfied.¡±

    ¡°Unlike some people, haha!¡±

    The frigid woman scowls at the barbarian. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you one day.¡±

    Kalise affects a hilariously exaggerated leer. ¡°If you promise to keep the sharp bits away for a night, I bet I can change your mind.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather stab myself with those sharp bits.¡±

    ¡°If ther ladies are done flirtin¡¯ wit yerserlves,¡± a very intoxicated man slurs, ¡°let¡¯s get to the point o¡¯ tonight.¡±

    There¡¯s a point besides all these people getting drunk and happy?

    ¡°Imma start!¡± He gets to his feet, putting a hand on the table to keep his balance. His other hand holds his cup that he points at another woman who has her feet propped up on the table as she chugs Herbanacle. ¡°Hannah! Thesh is the year! When I¡ª" A loud burp interrupts his grand proclamation. ¡°When my boys get the most kills, you gotta marry me!¡±

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    The woman he¡¯s pointed out finishes her drink and turns bleary eyes toward him. I can see her replaying his words. I also know the moment she realizes what he¡¯s said as she makes a very rude gesture with her hand. ¡°As if, you shit-sucking snowcat. Your boys are so slow, you should be happy to make it back before the spring storms. Forget about getting the most kills.¡±

    ¡°I will, dammit!¡± the man shouts. ¡°Damn woman. Makin¡¯ things difficult.¡±

    ¡°Me? I told you to stop proposing years ago!¡±

    ¡°We been together for twelve years!¡± he shouts back.

    ¡°And?¡± she asks.

    ¡°Put up and shut up.¡± Another knight pulls the man back into his chair. ¡°Though we all know I¡¯m getting most kills.¡±

    ¡°We all know that when we¡¯re drunk enough to hallucinate the ancestors,¡± Thomas spits. ¡°I¡¯m getting most kills and biggest kill.¡±

    ¡°In your dreams, you old dog!¡± another woman shouts.

    ¡°What is this about most kills and biggest kill?¡± Kierra asks. I would have but I¡¯m too preoccupied fending off Alana¡¯s questing fingers while keeping her cup out of her hands. As she grows more frustrated with my denials, her insistence grows. ¡°Besides the obvious.¡±

    ¡°Allow me to explain, Miss Kierra,¡± Lancecain says. Another one who is quite sober, as he¡¯s requested nothing but water. ¡°It is an unspoken tradition for the army that gets the most kills and the largest kill to have one wish granted by the duke.¡±

    ¡°Within reason,¡± the duke quickly adds.

    Lancecain nods in acknowledgement. ¡°The armies also make personal bets. There is even a group of retired knights that run a large betting ring where you can bet on everything from how far an army will march to how many swords they¡¯ll break.¡± His cheerful expression darkens. ¡°The only thing that can¡¯t be bet on is how many will make it back.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s bad luck!¡± a man shouts.

    ¡°I see.¡± Kierra purrs. ¡°I can assume there are those that are betting on us?¡±

    ¡°Betting you¡¯ll make asses of yourselves,¡± Zach mutters. His forehead rests on his arm, the favored heir too drunk to hold his head up. ¡°My money¡¯s on you coming back after two weeks.¡±

    Alana turns from her place on my shoulder and sneers at him. ¡°Generous.¡±

    ¡°Practical,¡± he snaps back. ¡°One week to realize you¡¯re in over your heads. Another to march back.¡±

    ¡°Not me!¡± Kalise shouts. ¡°I¡¯ve got a horde riding on you Greenie so you better put out!¡±

    ¡°Should I thank you for your confidence in my ability? Or chastise you for commanding me?¡±

    The barbarian takes the mild threat good-naturedly. ¡°Don¡¯t threaten me with a good time. Maybe a good showing will leave the old cat in a generous mood, huh?¡±

    Fed up with me blocking her hand, Alana lets out a frustrated huff and pushes herself onto my lap. I give a token resistance but as she ignores it, I let her do as she pleases. There¡¯s no telling what she¡¯ll do if I block this too.

    I weigh her future embarrassment knowing she sat on my lap in front of her father versus me carrying her away from the table. I decide to stay still. This is a kind rite of passage for northerners. Alana wants nothing more than to be included in her family. For good or ill.

    Hopefully she doesn¡¯t hate me in the morning.

    ¡°Oh my,¡± a scandalized bunny mutters across the table as Alana makes herself comfortable. My drunk saint pays no mind to the whistles and hollers of the other drunk people she wraps her arms around my shoulders and buries her face in my neck. It takes a strong will to ignore her teasing lips.

    ¡°When¡¯s the wedding?¡± someone yells and all eyes turn to me.

    ¡°Um¡­¡± I say, my eloquence failing me under their collective gazes.

    Down the table, Eleanor pauses. Anastasia also puts down her cup. They turn twin glares toward me.

    ¡°Why haven¡¯t you answered, outsider?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be playing games with my niece, would you?¡±

    ¡°No, no,¡± I practically squeal, both horrified at the thought and the pressure of their combined displeasure. Anastasia looks like she¡¯s ready to skewer me and Eleanor looks like she¡¯ll help. ¡°I¡¯m ready anytime but, um, Alana is¡­¡±

    ¡°Oi, oi, come on, cocky cat,¡± Kalise hollers. ¡°Someone with your strength ought to be a little more assertive. Do it like this.¡± She jumps up from her chair, stumbling two steps before grabbing a servant girl. The young woman squeaks as she¡¯s pulled against the barbarian¡¯s chest, forced to look up as Kalise grabs her chin with two strong fingers. ¡°Woman. We¡¯re getting married today. You can either walk to the arch or I¡¯ll put you over my shoulder.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit¡­¡±

    ¡°That is wrong.¡± Kierra gracefully stands. ¡°Where is the romance? My Lou is no brute.¡± She strolls over to Kalise and the very nervous looking servant girl. With quick movements, she snatches the girl from the other woman¡¯s strong arms, looping her arms around the poor woman¡¯s back. She flashes that dangerous smirk of hers that foils me every time but says nothing.

    Despite that, the woman¡¯s face quickly colors with a blush. Kierra smiles wider, a hand rising to cup her cheek. Her thumb traces the woman¡¯s lips. Lips that part, a pink tongue a scant breath from tasting the tantalizing green flesh. From her wide eyes, she is completely enthralled.

    ¡°Would you like to come with me?¡±

    The poor servant nods her head absently. Then, suddenly, she seems to come back to herself and jumps out of Kierra¡¯s arms. ¡°I¡ªI¡ªyou¡ªplease excuse me!¡± she shouts and scurries from the room.

    Kalise laughs. ¡°Ha! She got away.¡±

    ¡°But they always come back,¡± my wife purrs. She retakes her seat. ¡°Whereas your method would mean a fight to near-death in my home.¡±

    ¡°Near-death?¡± Yulia asks.

    ¡°Mm. They are reluctant to let a strong breeder escape their clutches in the provinces. They certainly would not let death claim you. After two or three children, you might even see Victory again.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± She goes back to sipping her wine.

    I jump as Alana¡¯s teeth nip me. Alright, that¡¯s enough inclusion. Forget the shroom juice. Licking on me for a few minutes should have done much more to compromise her. I better get her out of here before she actually embarrasses herself.

    There are two things fate loves. Irony and wrecking people¡¯s plans. That¡¯s why, as I am contemplating making a quick getaway, the doors to the dining room are thrown open and a problem appears.

 ARC 6-Winter War-99

    A woman strolls into the room and my first thought is that she doesn¡¯t belong amongst these warriors. She¡¯s wearing a dress, for saints¡¯ sake. A pretty blue one with long sleeves, a modest neckline, and several skirts. A dark brown fur hangs over shoulders and her long blond hair is tied in braid that falls down her back. The way she glides across the floor, hands crossed at the wrists in front of her stomach, reminds me of my childhood etiquette tutors. It¡¯s not a good feeling.

    The second thing I think is she reminds me of the saint slobbering on my neck. It¡¯s not obvious. Alana takes after her father but not in regards to her more feminine features. Her lips, the shape of her eyes if not their color, certainly her hair. This woman has all of those. Even Alana¡¯s modest curves. The bad feeling gets worse.

    Kalise¡¯s muttered, ¡°Feck, who invited her?¡± doesn¡¯t help.

    The woman stops at the end of the table and bows her head. ¡°Excuse my intrusion, my lord. I simply came to wish the commanders good luck before the campaign.¡±

    ¡°Roza,¡± the duke says. He waves his hand and a servant appears with a chair, placing it beside her. The woman, Roza, takes a seat.

    ¡°Thank you, my lord.¡± She accepts a cup of water-downed Herbanacle, making a face after sniffing it. Oi. ¡°And what is it we are drinking?¡±

    ¡°Something worth too much to touch your lips,¡± Eleanor scoffs.

    ¡°As civil as ever, Ellie.¡±

    ¡°Call me that again and the next rod shoved up that well-used hole of yours will be my spear.¡±

    Kalise bursts into laughter along with a few other knights. Those of us not laughing stare at her in stupefied silence, namely me. The exceptions are the duke, whose expression remains blank, and Roza, who looks like she is trying not to frown.

    ¡°Drink up, Roza!¡± the barbarian roars. ¡°I am in far too good a mood to play your usual games. You should take lessons from your daughter. If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say I birthed the sunny cat, ha!¡±

    Oh. Saints. That resemblance isn¡¯t a coincidence. This woman is Alana¡¯s mother. During our first meeting, her daughter is sprawled on my lap and licking on me like I¡¯m slathered in honey.

    ¡­

    If I had to put this situation in a positive light, I would say that there is no way to go down from here. My future mother-in-law has gotten a very frank look at our relationship. There is also no doubt of our feelings for one another.

    The bad. All the above and more. Roza certainly doesn¡¯t look impressed by us. Her glare is nastier than Anastasia¡¯s, though it lacks power. She does not approve. At all. ¡°Alana,¡± her mother says, voice purposely soft but filled with agitation. ¡°No greeting for your mother?¡±

    Alana is so consumed with me that she wouldn¡¯t care if the king himself had walked into the room. She ignores the demand on her attention, shuffling about so she¡¯s straddling one of my thighs. The shameless saint begins to subtly grind and moans my name against my ear.

    Her mother is not at all pleased with being ignored. ¡°Alana,¡± she hisses. ¡°You¡¯re embarrassing yourself.¡± I can practically see the rest she wants to say on her face. You¡¯ve finally made it to the James table as an equal and you¡¯re making a fool out of yourself, and more importantly, me. She came to gloat, didn¡¯t she? Of course she did. Why else would she be here in that kind of dress while everyone else is in casual clothes?

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    Is it that? Noble snobbery but in reverse? Instead of someone claiming the greatness of their ancestors, is she intending on claiming the greatness of her daughter? Riding her cape to the top of Victory¡¯s social hierarchy? Not even the north can escape the politics of the capital.

    ¡°The only one embarrassing herself is you, Roza,¡± Anastasia chides. ¡°Aren¡¯t you too old to be running after my brother? And your daughter clearly has more important things on her mind.¡±

    Thomas laughs, sloshing his drink. ¡°I¡¯d be more interested in fucking my woman than listening to my nagging mother too. Good on her!¡±

    ¡°Is it wrong that I don¡¯t want my daughter acting like¡ª¡±

    ¡°A shameless whore?¡± Eleanor adds with heat. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be proud she¡¯s taking after you.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    The table turns to me. This time, I don¡¯t falter, glaring at the older woman. ¡°Watch how you talk about her,¡± I say, making no effort to hide the threat in my voice.

    ¡°Frigid bitch,¡± Alana mutters loud enough for the rest of the table to hear.

    Eleanor frowns but I sneer, daring her to try my patience. She grumbles unintelligibly but holds her tongue, drowning her feelings in Herbanacle.

    ¡°Looks like you have some spine, after all,¡± Anastasia¡­praises? I think? Her tone makes me think she¡¯s praising me.

    ¡°I can¡¯t stand when people insult her.¡±

    ¡°Lady Lourianne Tome,¡± Alana¡¯s mother says. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard of your family before, which is very surprising. I¡¯d have thought someone able to put on such a display at the Witness Circle would be renowned throughout the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°You watched a March?¡± Kalise exclaims in disbelief. ¡°I thought bloodshed wasn¡¯t good for your delicate constitution.¡±

    Roza puts down her cup, clearly having no intention on joining the others in their drunkenness. ¡°I didn¡¯t have the pleasure of witnessing Lady Tome, no, but if it was half as grand as the rumors, she will certainly make her mark in Victory.¡± Her eyes narrow as her smile widens, not in a friendly way. ¡°I also heard talk of marriage.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you slithered out of whatever rock you¡¯ve been hiding under?¡± Kalise scoffs.

    ¡°I was waiting for my daughter to come and see me on her own,¡± Roza says. ¡°I understand that she must be busy taking command of an army on her first campaign.¡± Hm. She certainly sounds proud but her tone grates on my nerves. ¡°But, yes, when I heard that she was planning on getting married, I selfishly put my motherly concerns first and rushed to discover the details. Can you blame me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, dumbass.¡± The barbarian punctuates the sentence by chugging the rest of her cup and demanding a refill.

    One thing I will say about Alana¡¯s mother is that she has impeccable control. Nothing flusters her. It¡¯s too the point that I have to wonder if Alana gets her stern expression from her mother rather than her father. ¡°So, Lady Tome. I assume you plan to move to Victory after your time at the Hall?¡±

    ¡°Uh.¡± I certainly do not. ¡°Is that any of your business?¡±

    ¡°I would think it is. My daughter may be the next duchess. As her bannerwoman and her future wife, you would be by her side, wouldn¡¯t you? I find it concerning that you didn¡¯t immediately give a positive answer.¡±

    ¡°There she goes getting ahead of herself again.¡±

    ¡°No one has ever accused Roza of having small dreams.¡±

    Saints, the duke¡¯s wives have been absolutely brutal tonight. They seem intent on verbally shredding Roza. I see Kalise readying herself for another blow but she¡¯s interrupted by Alana straightening up. She looks annoyed. Very annoyed.

    ¡°Will you shut up?!¡±

    That finally breaks Roza¡¯s composure. A tiny fraction. ¡°Alana¡ª" she tries to say but my saint is quick to cut her off.

    ¡°Did you not think there was a reason I avoided you, mother?¡± she practically growls. She makes a motion to get to her feet and immediately tilts. I quickly drag her back to my lap, sitting her on my knees like a child. She grabs my shoulder with a hand but her eyes never leave her mother. ¡°This has nothing to do with you.¡±

    ¡°Alana, sweetheart¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that!¡± she shouts. ¡°Only Lou calls me stuff like that,¡± she mutters much more quietly. I melt, of course. How can someone be so cute?

    ¡°I¡¯m just worried about you. It¡¯s your first campaign and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, now you¡¯re worried. Where was that worry when you told me I was destined to be a knight? That I had to fight to prove my worth? You didn¡¯t care if I died proving I¡¯m a James so don¡¯t pretend you give a damn about my life now!¡±

    Silence. Long silence, only interrupted by the gulping of drinks and a few awkward coughs. Mm. A little heavier of a topic than they were expecting, I think.

    ¡°Should have just drank the shroom juice,¡± Kalise finally mutters, snickering at the stunned look on Roza¡¯s face.

    ¡°Lou.¡± Alana turns sideways on my lap. ¡°I want to go to bed.¡±

    ¡°Alright, Alana.¡± Sparing only my wife a glance, I scoop her into my arms and carry her away.

 ARC 6-Winter War-100

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you stop me?¡± a very hungover Alana says while perched on the end of her bed, head in her hands. The sun has barely risen but the rest of the house is bustling with activity. Today is the day, after all.

    We¡¯ll have to get moving ourselves very soon, but for now, I¡¯m enjoying the rare sight of a miserable saint in disarray. Soon enough, the smirking elf sprawled on the bed beside her will lay a magical hand on her and cure her of all her ails but for now, I¡¯m letting her bask in the moment until she remembers the master healer.

    ¡°Stop you from what? Drinking? Crawling on to my lap?¡±

    ¡°Yelling at my mother,¡± she groans.

    Huh. That was the last thing I expected her to be upset about. ¡°Should I have? The general feeling seemed to be against her. You seemed to be against her.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡±

    ¡°What isn¡¯t with your family?¡± I mutter. A bit too loud. Alana glares at me, her exhaustion and reddened eyes giving it extra power. ¡°Sorry. Slipped out.¡±

    She holds the glare for a moment longer before dropping her shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong. But this is more complicated than normal.¡± Her hand taps the bed beside her. I walk over but before sitting, I grab one of Kierra¡¯s hands and place it on Alana¡¯s shoulder. My wife obliges the silent request and the green glow of her magic covers her fingers. I watch as Alana visibly rejuvenates, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. ¡°Should have thought of that.¡±

    ¡°None of us are at our best first thing in the morning.¡±

    ¡°Speak for yourself, dedia.¡±

    I resist an urge to roll my eyes. ¡°Except my lovely wife. She is always perfect.¡±

    She lets out a satisfied hum.

    Alana smiles at our silliness but it quickly deflates. ¡°My mother¡­she isn¡¯t a bad woman. She loves me. Would do anything for me. Has done¡­a lot. If it wasn¡¯t for her faith in me, I don¡¯t know if I could have endured.¡±

    She looks away. ¡°Every night, she told me I was meant for something more. If she hadn¡¯t, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d have ever tried to be a knight, let alone fought for a place at the James¡¯ table. I would¡¯ve been another girl who knows nothing but the north. I would never have gone to the Hall.¡± She turns to me. ¡°I would have never met you.¡±

    When she puts it like that, I understand why it¡¯s hard to say she doesn¡¯t like her mother. Being able to meet me is worth forgiving a lot, heh.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking something annoying, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I refuse to believe I¡¯m that easy to read.

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    Alana looks at me dubiously.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be a little blunt here but the duke¡¯s wives¡¯ biggest issue with your mother seems to be, her, uh.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were going to be blunt.¡±

    I want to but that¡¯s still your mother.

    ¡°They seem to think your mother uses her body for favors,¡± Kierra says bluntly. ¡°This seems to be a negative thing for humans.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not for elves?¡± I ask.

    The elf chuckles. ¡°Someone who is good with their bodies is art in motion and provides a good time. It is natural to pay for a good time. It is natural to pay for art. How is it any different?¡±

    ¡­she makes a good point.

    ¡°It¡­was a little more calculated than that. For the campaign, knights aren¡¯t the only ones who go. For the larger armies, civilians also tag along. All armies take along people to maintain their gear and dismantle kills. I didn¡¯t bother since I figured the hunters were skilled enough that it wasn¡¯t necessary. The larger armies bring cooks, musicians, and servants. It¡¯s one of the few ways non-combatants can achieve a measure of prestige in Victory.

    ¡°There are also¡­women who tag along. They are¡­¡± Alana sighs, deeply. ¡°There¡¯s no nice way to say it. They¡¯re bed warmers. Whores on the road. Victory doesn¡¯t¡­it doesn¡¯t have the same negative reputation it has in other places. There¡¯s honor for anyone who ventures beyond the walls. But it¡¯s still¡­¡± She shrugs. ¡°It¡¯s not looked on well. Especially when it¡¯s targeted.

    ¡°My mother definitely targeted my father. She managed to become his favorite for a few campaigns. Mother says she would have become his third wife if Eleanor didn¡¯t intervene. And the reason she did is because of me. There are potions that can be taken to stop any unplanned heirs. It¡¯s expected for the women to take them. If they don¡¯t, the fathers aren¡¯t obligated to accept the children into their house.¡±

    Hm? If these potions exist, then why is Alana here?

    ¡°I already know what you¡¯re going to ask. That¡¯s the crux of the matter. My mother slept with the duke and didn¡¯t take the potion. She claims that she took it and it didn¡¯t work. Except it always work. And even if it didn¡¯t, when she realized she was pregnant, she could have seen healers. No, she wanted me. And she wanted to be a duchess.¡±

    Alana scoffs. ¡°Unfortunately, while my father is nothing if not dutiful, she was fighting against generations of tradition. Worse, she had the wife of status working against her. You think Eleanor is intense now. Twenty years ago, she was lean, mean, and vicious. Forget being duchess. My mother didn¡¯t dare come within sight of the James estate. Of course, the way she tells it, Eleanor came at her like a madwoman for no reason.

    ¡°My mother¡¯s schemes amounted to nothing but she didn¡¯t stop. If birth alone wasn¡¯t enough to make my father acknowledge me, then talent would have to be. She pushed me toward becoming a knight. And when my affinity was tested, well, my father decided to acknowledge me after all. She still didn¡¯t get what she wanted. By then, my father had married his third wife. There was no room for her. But again, my father is nothing if not dutiful. To acknowledge me is to acknowledge her. She got some funds, a better house. My mother is nothing if not adaptable. She¡¯s done pretty well for herself.¡±

    Huh. More than I expected. Less than I find intolerable. Nobles will do anything to raise the status of their house. Including using a beautiful daughter or two to ensnare a lustful young heir into marriage. Alana¡¯s mother is certainly devious but so is the average noblewoman in Summer Spire.

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Alana shrugs. ¡°My mother wants Victory more than anything. No, she wants to be someone in Victory. And for a long time, I wanted it just as badly. Then I went to the Grand Hall and realized that Victory is just one fort in a big world. That there¡¯s more than the James family. We¡­I¡¯ve been struggling to tell her. That was not the way I wanted to start the conversation.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got time. You can go see her.¡±

    Alana winces. Then she climbs to her feet and stretches. ¡°No. Better to go before we exchange more harsh words. Once we come back with plenty of merit, Mother will forgive me anything.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-101

    Thousands of people readying to march is an incredible sight. A noisy one as well. Despite Alana¡¯s inevitable rise to greatness, she is still a mere acolyte, an average caster, and a novice commander on her first campaign. That means she doesn¡¯t have the prestige to be in the front and lacks the experience for the others to trust her with protecting the rear. Therefore, we¡¯re stuck in the middle of the formation to leave the fort.

    The armies of Victory are strange beasts. Inherently, they are pack animals, working together to hunt down their prey, namely the hordes of monsters beyond the Peaks. They move together for safety but, once deep in hostile territory, they transform into solitary animals.

    Large groups attract large enemies. Titans dwell beyond the mountains. Creatures so big and so strong, hundreds of knights need to work together to bring them down. Thousands of knights marching together can draw several of them. A death sentence. If the armies separate, the titans disperse, each moving to secure their own prey.

    So, while each army will eventually do its own thing, for now, we are one entity. We are not the head or the tail of this beast, so we have very little freedom. At least having secured a portion of Zach¡¯s resources during the March, we have beasts to pull our wagons. Just enough now that we¡¯re leaving behind our building supplies, only dragging along the booze, the food, and a few empty wagons for the spoils of war.

    Which is more than expected. My original goal upon coming here was to auction Howie¡¯s magical brews to the hunters that would no doubt be eager for their profound effects. That did not go as planned.

    For one, the hunters are too frightened of me to buy anything I have for sell. They can¡¯t even look me in the eye, straightening their spines when I pass like young lords before a stern patriarch. The only exception is the Steelskins. The big, brawny frontliners are unfazed by my reputation and bought several barrels of Shroom Inferno as originally requested. It¡¯s too bad that they are already pledged to march with the Devil, that sly bastard. Zach has taken charge of the hunters but they have a separate contract with the Bleak Moons.

    Another reason I am marching into the north with more supplies than I originally expected is due to the March. As the favored heir and a seasoned commander, Zach¡¯s resources are not small. The north has its own alternatives to magical shroom juice and plenty of travel rations. Enough to fill four wagons. With my own stock and supplementing with monster meat, I have enough to keep our modest army fed and warm for a year, let alone a single winter.

    A hassle to organize but Alana seems perfectly content handling things. She¡¯s wearing the dark blue armor of the Bleak Moons and the distinctive wolf helm. I can¡¯t make out her features but she seems full of energy as she pulls aside people to ask on their progress and confirm their positions.

    Bell follows on her heels. That¡¯s her job until we get back to safety. Since she isn¡¯t building an unassailable outpost, all that power is going to keep Alana alive and advise her during her first command.

    Me? I¡¯m sprawled on the driver bench of one of the wagons, making myself useful by keeping out of the way. Kierra is beside me, armed to the teeth and full of excitement. It¡¯s hard to tell because of the way she¡¯s lounging, head in my lap and feet up. The truth is in the large chest of weapons under the driver¡¯s bench. She used her sway over Kalise to raid the duke¡¯s personal armory. She brought a sword. I¡¯ve never seen her wield a sword.

    On my other side is Geneva, where I can keep an eye on her and make sure she¡¯s not getting up to any dastardly schemes. One would normally think this wouldn¡¯t be the time for such things. With her, there¡¯s always time for a plot or two.

    Rolly is hanging about somewhere, I¡¯m sure. I tend not to keep a strict eye on the lueorale. Both because it would take a whole lot of effort and because it would make the small creature unhappy. She seems to enjoy her freedoms. Me being too constraining was one of her biggest sticking points while forming our contract. She always shows up when it¡¯s important so I leave her to it. Once this campaign is over, she¡¯ll have plenty to do.

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    That leaves the last of the elementals, the shuba. Poor creature is camped in Alana¡¯s room with orders to remain incorporeal and completely still until our return. I wouldn¡¯t risk the campaign by introducing the shuba. While it would not doubt multiply like mad with all the negative energy that is sure to be in abundance soon, it could also get people killed. So, the shuba stays home.

    ¡°Lo there, captain.¡±

    I cast my gaze to the side as Arthur sidles up to my wagon, from Kierra¡¯s side. I wonder if he purposely approached opposite of Geneva. Wouldn¡¯t put it past him. For good reason, he is very uncomfortable around my succubus. He won¡¯t even look at me to avoid seeing her. ¡°Arthur. Have you been doing your job?¡±

    ¡°Spying on my fellows and fishing out discontent, aye. The general feeling is pretty good. People are nervous. The excitement of the ass-kicking you handed out is fading in the face of death. A strong showing at the start should keep them in line when it¡¯s time for the armies to go their separate ways.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll get that.¡± If Kierra has anything to say about it. ¡°Anything interesting?¡±

    ¡°Depends on what you find interesting. There¡¯s this Polluck guy who¡¯s joined with his son or something. They seem to be a big deal.¡±

    What the saints is Plucky and Plucky Two doing here? Don¡¯t tell me that bastard is still trying to push Alana and that walking monument to saintly virtues together. It¡¯s the only reason I can imagine a knight of his standing joining a small army run by a first-time commander, no matter her last name. Alana certainly didn¡¯t invite him. She proposed inviting members of the different orders but her father handled the selection. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Someone I didn¡¯t expect to see. The annoying kid from the qualifiers. Heard a few of the others calling him Quinn or something. He¡¯s been asking questions about you and the March. A lot of questions. And he still has that look in his eye I don¡¯t like.¡±

    Ah. The name doesn¡¯t ring a bell but the description does. So, Mr. Talented is also here. This is a great opportunity to make an annoyance disappear, isn¡¯t it?

    No, I shouldn¡¯t do that. I am the most talented person in this kingdom¡­and I have no intention of using any of that talent for the betterment of Harvest. The least I can do is not deprive them of the second-most talented person.

    ¡°Is he planning on messing this up?¡± Because if he is, he can forget any mercy.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think so. The boy seems to think well of the golden girl. He¡¯s even fine with the e¡ªwith the madam.¡± He clears his throat as Kierra glances at him. ¡°His only problem is with you. Obsessively. If he didn¡¯t reek of anger, I¡¯d think he was in love.¡±

    A shiver of disgust runs down my spine at the mere thought. ¡°Keep an eye on him. Let me know¡ªwait.¡± It occurs to me that making an annoyance disappear doesn¡¯t have to mean making the annoying young man disappear. Arthur used to be the quite the annoyance himself. Someone helped him. It required a lot of time, magic, and pain, but he¡¯s shaping up to be a great man, if a little ruthlessly practical.

    Maybe someone can help the future hero. Before he does something that forces me to take him seriously.

    ¡°Better idea. Find out what his problem is with me. Then solve it.¡±

    The look he gives me is part-dread, part-exasperation. ¡°How exactly am I supposed to do that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Use your imagination. Look, tell me why he keeps trying to kill himself through provoking me and I¡¯ll see if I can help you preserve his life.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re the boss.¡±

    A loud horn sounds. Alana comes jogging up to the wagon. ¡°Arthur.¡±

    ¡°Hey, commander. Captain. I¡¯ll get started on that stuff you asked.¡±

    The pirate makes a quick escape. Alana watches his back as he joins the hunters. ¡°Something I need to worry about?¡±

    ¡°Him? Not at all. Arthur¡¯s a different man these days.¡± The horn sounds again. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s the signal to go?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The armies are moving.¡± She lets out a deep breath. ¡°Last chance to turn back.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a joke, right?¡±

    ¡°It is.¡± She slaps the side of the wagon. ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready, Lou. Because I¡¯ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. Don¡¯t fall asleep, Kii.¡±

    ¡°I will be ready, little flower,¡± the elf mutters.

    ¡°Not a flower,¡± she calls over her shoulder as she jogs to the head of our army. The horn blares a third time. The gate is opened and the forces of Victory move.

    I¡¯d be lying if I said my heart isn¡¯t pounding a little harder.

 ARC 6-Winter War-102

    Marching is a boring affair. Less boring than my time traveling alongside the Squiddies along the King¡¯s Road, but only because of the tension in the air and the hilarious reactions of the ill-prepared acolytes. I can¡¯t feel it but according to their muttered complaints, the temperature is steadily dropping as we walk along the uphill path. I personally think it¡¯s all in their minds, an idea that¡¯s supported by several of them quietly lamenting their reckless decision to join the campaign.

    Interestingly, it isn¡¯t snowing. It¡¯s always snowing. So much that after the first couple of days, I ignored gentle flakes and gray sky, accepting it as a new constant. Therefore, the lack of it is significant. The sky is still overcast but that¡¯s it. No peacefully falling snow. No wind. If anything, the world is uncommonly still and silent. It amplifies the sound of the marching warriors. No considerations are given to stealth because they¡¯d be pointless.

    After the first hour, I settle in for a long day, trying to find a soothing rhythm in the constant crunch of heavy boots sinking into ankle-deep snow. In my pursuit of relaxation, the shadow passing over me doesn¡¯t garner so much as a blink. What catches my attention is Kierra bolting upright and reaching for the chest of weapons under our feet.

    The next second, shouts echo throughout the armies. Alana¡¯s voice joins them as she moves from the front of our group toward me.

    ¡°Eyes to the sky! Enemies approach. Hunters, I need a dozen ranged casters ready. Priority to metal and fire. Moons, Duelists, get ready.¡± I perk up as our army starts to move. Alana climbs onto my wagon and I hold back a question as she starts shouting again. ¡°For those who don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, we¡¯ve run into the first danger of the campaign. Doomhawks. They earned that name. They¡¯re big, they¡¯re vicious, and they¡¯re maneaters. If you don¡¯t pay attention, they will grab you and you¡¯ll never be seen again.¡±

    As she talks, several more shadows pass over us. I look up to see a dozen large birds circling above us. Far, far above us. For them to still look that big¡­saints, these things must be massive.

    ¡°This is how this works! There are hundreds, if not thousands of these winged bastards nesting on the Peaks. We¡¯re enough food to keep their bellies full for the season and meat is lean this time of year. They will keep coming. The army can¡¯t afford to stop. That means casters on the wagons so they can focus on shooting them down.¡±

    She gives me a look, blue eyes more vivid shadowed by her helm. I don¡¯t wait and hop off the wagon. Geneva and Kierra are beside me, the elf carrying a plain bow with a quiver slung over her shoulder. Three hunters are approaching and they quickly hop onto the driver¡¯s bench.

    ¡°Knights, you know your roles. When the bodies fall, you keep them from flattening the skinny casters. Don¡¯t worry about getting them onto empty wagons.¡± She turns to me. ¡°Lou, that¡¯s your job.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Acolytes! You have one job. Keep up. I better not see a single spell coming from you unless a doomie has its talons around your head. We won¡¯t be speeding up but we won¡¯t be stopping. Don¡¯t be a hero. You¡¯re only going to get in the way right now. What we need is precision, not firepower. Put your focus into putting one foot in front of the other.¡±

    Alana turns back to us. ¡°Kii, what¡¯s your range with that bow?¡±

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    ¡°Farther than any caster,¡± she replies.

    ¡°I won¡¯t waste my time asking about power. Head to the front, find my stupid brother. He¡¯s got more supplies and more men. They¡¯ll be swarming him. I would also rather you use up his arrows. Make sure you count your kills.¡±

    ¡°Always.¡± The elf chuckles darkly as she runs ahead.

    ¡°Casters! The wagons are where they are on purpose. You cover the air two wagons ahead and two behind. Anything else is not your problem. We do not need wild fire.¡±

    Yells of understanding echo around. Alana hops down from her perch. ¡°All that yelling to the acolytes but I¡¯m pretty much in the same position. Some commander.¡± She sighs. ¡°Lou? Don¡¯t space out, things are going to happen quickly. I need you.¡±

    A pleasant shiver runs down my spine and it has nothing to do with the cold. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Really? What¡¯s that look?¡±

    ¡°Just melting a little.¡±

    ¡°In this weather?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Best not explain myself and distract her.

    ¡°Well¡­I don¡¯t have to worry if it¡¯s you. Geo, when the hunters undoubtedly miss something, can I count on you?¡±

    The succubus grins. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Remember, fire. And try to blow them toward the mountain. Last thing anyone needs is a corpse crashing into them out of nowhere. The knights are experienced but keep an eye out, Lou. We¡ª"

    She¡¯s interrupted by a single call echoing down the ranks. ¡°Ready!¡±

    The shout is followed by several shrill cries. I look up as the first doomhawks begin to dive. They aren¡¯t headed for us, targeting the denser grouping of knights ahead of us. Their speed is incredible. In one second, they¡¯ve doubled in size. In ten, I can make out their eyes with my ¡®film¡¯. I can¡¯t believe it takes them less than a minute to reach us from that height.

    Ten more seconds later, one of the doomhawks is knocked out of its dive. There¡¯s no squawk of pain or surprise. One moment, it¡¯s a giant arrow aimed at the bulk of Victory¡¯s forces. The next, its wings go limp and it starts to spiral, spinning haphazardly. Another follows a moment later. This time, I think I see something hit the bird¡¯s head before it starts its freefall.

    Another one is hit. Now, they¡¯re close enough I could make out their eyes without my film. For the average caster, they could make out the general shape of the creature. Good enough to aim.

    As one, casters all launch fire at the descending birds. They don¡¯t all hit but those that do explode, knocking the birds off course and blasting them toward the mountain. As the first spells are launched, the second wave of monstrous birds dive. A moment later, so does the third.

    Soon, a wave is headed for us. A small one, only seven birds. I hear casters on the wagon swear and mutter quick prayers as they wait for the manabeasts to come in range. I also push down my natural levity and focus on the moment. Readying myself to play catch with creatures five times my size, if not larger.

    I imagine they¡¯re a real terror for anyone not prepared for them. With grey and white patterned feathers, they won¡¯t be noticed until they want to be and by then, I imagine it¡¯s too late. They¡¯re not as tough as the annoying bird that attacked us during the qualifiers. That thing¡¯s feathers could deflect Alana¡¯s blade easily. The spells are tearing these doomhawks apart. The problem is, they more than make up for their fragility with numbers. As the first waves are shot down, more and more take to the skies, circling us.

    ¡°NOW!¡± Alana shouts, her voice echoing in a way that makes me think Rolly is helping.

    The hunters follow her command. Soon, there is fire and blades of metal flying through the air. It takes two volleys but the birds are blown back and drop into a freefall. Four are on track to smash into our people. I don¡¯t have the chance to worry. The knights from the Bleak Moons are ready.

    Pillars of ice and earth erupt from the ground, catching the corpses of the birds. They disappear a moment later, the corpses easy to knock aside with their momentum gone. I leap into action. The creatures are awkward due to their size but lighter than expected. I throw them onto the first empty wagon I see, starting with the closest before sprinting to grab the corpses knocked away by the more explosive spells.

    A new volley of spells are launched before I finish. I glance up, trying to gage where the next wave will fall. There¡¯s more of them this time, nine. If this keeps up, we¡¯re going to be in for a slog.

    To think I thought the first day was going to be boring.

 ARC 6-Winter War-103

    The assault persisted for hours. It felt like hundreds of birds swooped down to claim a few light snacks. I certainly chucked several dozen into empty carts. I even had to wrestle a couple after they managed to get past the barrage of spells and wrap their talons around an unlucky hunter.

    Alana mitigated mana exhaustion by swapping attackers but we don¡¯t have an army of master casters. I¡¯d be amazed if half of our army have coefficients at or above three hundred. Their targets are large manabeasts that require large spells to bring down. I¡¯d guess the casters are burning at least twenty units of mana per spell. That means they have ten shots each before they start to show noticeable effects of mana exhaustion. No more than twenty before they¡¯re completely spent and useless in a fight.

    If every spell resulted in a direct hit and a fatality, the math isn¡¯t too bad but as stress mounts and people grow tired, their accuracy suffers. No one dies. Between Kierra, Geneva, and Bell, the most our army has to endure are a few scratches and bruises. Still, they are low on mana and exhausted.

    That¡¯s not enough to entitle them to a rest. After massive casualties, the flock stops attacking but they continue to circle above us, letting out the occasional shrill cry to remind us that they¡¯re waiting. The commanders urge the army forward. According to Alana, the ones who attacked were the weaker members of the flock.

    Too weak to secure enough food to fill their bellies. Like everywhere else, the stronger doomhawks prey on their weaker brethren. The fodder are underfed, which means they¡¯re smaller and weaker than they shoulder be. Combined with their desperation, it¡¯s no wonder they threw themselves to their deaths.

    The remainder are stronger, smarter, and nowhere near as desperate. They will wait, tracking us through their territory, for the most opportune moment to strike. It¡¯s not a prospect I can simply dismiss. If the main flock descends, the army will suffer heavy casualties. Therefore, it¡¯s imperative that we don¡¯t show weakness.

    We have to put up a pretense of strength. So, despite something like a fifth of the army¡¯s casters being too tired to walk and half of the rest too tired to throw another spell, we continue to march. The sky darkens quickly. Torches are lit and we continue to trek through the snow.

    ¡°There.¡±

    Alana walks beside me near one of the wagons. I squint in the direction her finger is pointing. Since leaving the fort, we¡¯ve been walking along a narrow path between two mountains. Well, comparatively narrow given the number of people squeezed onto it. The scenery has remained the same, towering mounds of stone and snow to either side, rising to a height I can¡¯t make out. It¡¯s finally changed. Up ahead, the path widens. Rather, it looks like someone carved into the nearby mountains to form a wide clearing, the sides covered by stone overhangs.

    ¡°Shelter created by armies long past. We¡¯ll be camping there tonight.¡± She chuckles. ¡°We¡¯re lucky. No beasts to fight off for it this year.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not enough rock to cover everybody.¡±

    ¡°The smaller armies will take cover under the overhangs. The more experienced armies will set up camp in-between. There¡¯ll be shared dismantling and cooking stations. Easier to defend. There¡¯s a high chance the smell of blood and meat will draw other predators but we don¡¯t have to worry about anything too bad until we¡¯re past the mountains.¡±

    I find it ridiculous how ambivalent she is to the horrors of this whole situation. I have seen more death today than the rest of my life combined. Granted, they were monsters and my role was rather small, but my hands are still shaking a little. Can I be blamed with the amount of magic being slung around? Yet, she¡¯s entirely comfortable. I¡¯d dare to call her upbeat.

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    I wonder if it¡¯s because, despite the carnage, everything is going as expected. She was prepared for a flock of giant, murderous birds. She¡¯s expecting our camp to be ambushed so it¡¯s nothing of consequence.

    Victory certainly breeds a different kind of person.

    Things proceed as Alana told me they would. We come to a halt. The smaller armies are directed to pitch their tents and bedrolls beneath the overhangs, protecting them from the still circling doomhawks. The three largest armies, led by Zachariah, the Devil, still don¡¯t know his name, and Thomas, set up between them.

    Pillars of ice are erected and tents are put up beneath them. In the middle of the camp, a large fire burns, holding back the bulk of the darkness. Several bare-chested men in fur-lined pants and heavy boots are gathering around it, each carrying several knives of varying sizes. Other members of the armies follow them with wagons loaded with corpses.

    ¡°Lou, is it fine if I raid your liquor stash?¡±

    I eye my future wife. I adore her but you don¡¯t mess with a woman¡¯s drink. I know I¡¯ll have to part with some of Howie¡¯s goodies but each drop is like pouring liquid gold on trash. ¡°How much?¡±

    ¡°The normal stuff.¡±

    ¡°Oh. You can have as much of that as you want.¡±

    ¡°Not too much. No one can afford to be drunk but it¡¯ll be good to give them something for the nerves. Especially the acolytes. I noticed more than one of them is shaking. Saints preserve them, I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re even here. I may be at their level in skill but some of those idiots froze.¡±

    ¡°I know. I had to save one or two.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°It was funny watching you wrestle birds. You did good work.¡± I can¡¯t see her smile beneath her helm but her eyes give it away. ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready. This is only the beginning. Things will only get more intense from here on. I¡¯ll be working you hard.¡±

    Something in me tightens pleasurably. ¡°Mm.¡±

    Her blue eyes bore into me. Then she leans closer and whispers, ¡°Pervert.¡±

    ¡°Really? Are you one to talk?¡± I whisper just as quietly.

    She lets out a huff of air and straightens. Damn helmet is probably hiding her blush. ¡°Well, we don¡¯t have time for that either.¡±

    ¡°Sure?¡±

    I can practically taste her hesitation and want. I love how transparent her desires have become. Unfortunately, something catches her attention before my leer can force a response. I inwardly curse my wife for her rare bout of bad timing even as I¡¯m happy to see the elf jogging toward us. Her bow is in her hand and her quiver is noticeably empty.

    The first thing she does after reaching us is an inspection for injuries. It¡¯s nothing but a quick flick of her eyes but I know her habits. She may be hard on us but her cruelty is matched, if not exceeded, by her compassion.

    Only once she confirms we are in good health does she allow herself to smile. She claps Alana on the shoulder before moving to my side, grabbing one of my arms. ¡°Did you see me, dedia?¡±

    Aw, does she want me to praise her? How can this savage woman be so cute? ¡°I was working too but I did notice you brought the first two down.¡± Her range with a bow is insane.

    Her smile widens at my acknowledgment. ¡°The armies of the north work well. They lack strength but they are fearless and coordinated. They would not do terribly in the provinces, though I do not think they would appreciate the weather.¡±

    ¡°Hah! All these people know is cold. They¡¯d melt under the summer sun. More importantly, did anyone try to steal your kills?¡±

    ¡°No. All forty-eight are accounted for, along with the arrows.¡±

    Saints. She took almost fifty of them by herself. Was that a fifth of all the enemies? A sixth? Probably less but still a significant fraction. She really is a monster.

    She presses against me harder, making me very aware of the prodigious chest against my arm. ¡°Are you impressed?¡±

    Ah. Fighting makes her horny. ¡°Careful. Our commander says we don¡¯t have time for that.¡±

    Her eyes narrow as she turns to Alana. ¡°Surely you do not expect me to remain chaste for the whole of this war? I will be the laughingstock of my family.¡±

    I can feel the disbelief radiating from my future saint. ¡°It sounds ridiculous but I think she¡¯s telling the truth.¡± Knowing her family. ¡°We¡¯ll do it within reason, have the pets stand guard, and Rolly can make sure your reputation isn¡¯t damaged.¡±

    ¡°Who said I¡¯d be joining?¡± Alana asks with false offense.

    It¡¯s my turn to broadcast my disbelief.

    She manages to hold my gaze for three whole seconds before looking away. ¡°Get the corpses over to the crazy guys without shirts, along with a few hunters. They¡¯ll take care of it tonight but we¡¯ll have to dress our kills in the future and they can learn a few things. Make sure Geo gets a cut of the meat for our dinner.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What about bonding with the troops by giving up your privilege to share the common slop?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°In Victory, we bond over blood. Besides, after meeting you, I don¡¯t do common anymore.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-104

    A measly war doesn¡¯t stop the sun from shining. The weak light that escapes the overcast sky illuminates an orderly war camp atop pristine snow. No trace of the conflicts that transpired last night remain.

    I woke many times throughout the night, my sensitive hearing and light sleeping patterns because of Kierra¡¯s training waking me every time a creature ambushed the camp, but the threats were handled before I could do anything more than lift my head. Kierra also woke, eyes more green than gold in the low-light, but Alana remained dead to the world, her biggest reaction tightening her arms around me every time I moved.

    At first light, the northern butchers, men and women with uncomfortable fascinations with their knives, beasts, and blood, are already awake and skinning their new victims. The leftovers from last night and the fresh offerings are given to the cooks and soon, the smell of breakfast begins to rouse the rest of the army. I lie awake in the small stone abode erected by Bell, laying on my back while Alana drools on my chest.

    On my other side, Kierra rises silently. My eyes rake over her as she proceeds to stretch. She really gets into it. Probably because she has a captive audience.

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell scampers into our dwelling. Kierra grabs her before she can reach me, the imp briefly struggling before surrendering to her fate. [Master Lou, the armies have suffered no casualties from the attacks last night.]

    I suppose the thousands of deaths in the north weren¡¯t in vain. They know what they¡¯re doing. Too bad very few of those experts are in our own army. How are our valiant soldiers?

    [The acolytes all slept due to exhaustion but it was a fitful sleep. I have concerns about some of their ability to keep up.]

    Oi, why are we dragging these people along if they are going to be nothing but burdens? Do they think this is a game?

    [I believe the duke allows the acolytes to train themselves in the north to garner more attention from the Hall. Suffering the burden of a couple acolytes is a small price to attract the attention of the many masters. Victory is also thinking of the war long-term. If they manage to convert these fools to their cause and one becomes a master, his disciples will also train in Victory. Then his disciples¡¯ disciples will train in Victory. In three or four generations, their armies have increased by hundreds if not thousands.]

    Mm. I suppose those are good points. Sacrificing immediate gains for greater gains in the future. Inviting more outsiders is a recent trend started by Alana¡¯s father and he is no fool. How could he know a drastic change of fortune would come in the form of Alana and I meeting? This is him forging a better future for his territory, as any good noble should. Ah, well. I suppose we¡¯ll have to suffer a bit.

    [The acolytes will prove much more useful in the defensive line once the armies have separated. There will be fewer enemies and they will be more recognizable threats.]

    If they can keep their heads, literally and figuratively. Has there been any trouble?

    [Nothing of note. The usual anxiety, anger, and existential crisis. Ah. You may be interested in the thoughts of Robert Quintana. Mr. Talented.]

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Him again? Is Arthur not doing his job?

    [He is working on establishing a connection. In the meantime, Lady Geneva has instructed me to keep an eye on him when possible. He is uncommonly interested in you and Alana. Before retiring, he stared at your dwelling for several minutes, imagining many interesting things.]

    That creepy bastard. Maybe it would be better to make him disappear here after all? No, Lou. Think about the kingdom that will more than likely be saved by the future Harvest Hero many times.

    ¡­that didn¡¯t help.

    Think about his family, his proud father and loving mother. His mentor. They¡¯d all be incredibly sad if he died, especially such a common death. Think of the king, his future in-law. I refuse to believe the royal family won¡¯t marry him into their ranks with his talent. That could be the next king that ushers humanity into a new golden age.

    ¡­still not helping.

    Think of, oh, um, ah. Oh! Think of Cosmo. It¡¯d be more amusing to leave him alive, wouldn¡¯t it? It¡¯s a little funny how he keeps running into my path, right? And this ridiculous grudge he holds. Just imagine it. He trains for years, decades even, to overcome me. Then, at the height of his power, he challenges me for whatever reason¡­only to be slapped away like a fly. The pride of humanity, crushed by a degenerate known to spend her days drowning in drink and women. The shame. The embarrassment. The hilarity.

    Okay, that helped.

    What exactly is he thinking?

    [He harbors strong suspicions that you devoured his mount and injured him, what he considers the moment his life took a turn for the worse.]

    Ah. I suppose it couldn¡¯t stay secret with how many people witnessed my transformation. Anything else?

    [He believes you to be a danger to the kingdom and all that is good.]

    Ridiculous. How can I be a threat to the kingdom when it is lower on my list of priorities than hot meals, hotter baths, and warm beds? How can I be a threat to all that is good if I am supporting Alana, the future saint? I¡¯m even sparing him, though I am starting to doubt his qualifications as a hero. Harvest may be better off with the walking good intention that is Lancecain taking a journey of self-discovery through the south and finding a new purpose.

    [He is also concerned for the safety of Alana. His emotions are very confused. His admiration of her, need to prove himself, and distaste for you have morphed into a strange affection. A feeling that is periodically influenced by his repressed lusts.]

    Saints, enough. I¡¯m not talking about him anymore. What a terrible way to start the morning.

    ¡°Coo~¡± the imp says regretfully.

    ¡°Done with your report? Then I will get the other pet to start on breakfast. Wake the little star. An army cannot move without its commander.¡±

    That¡¯s one way to improve my mood. As Kierra takes Bell with her out the dwelling, I roll over the happily dozing Alana. She mutters in her sleep as I settle over her, the soft sounds cut off by my lips. I keep it chaste, gently teasing and nibbling her lips. When her eyes start to flutter, I kiss the rest of her face. ¡°Morning, sweetie~¡±

    She groans, her arms sleepily going around my neck. ¡°The army?¡± she asks with bleary eyes. Her dedication is quite admirable. I know how distracting I am to her and the status of the war is still the first thing she asks about.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine. Kii went to get us food.¡±

    ¡°From Geneva?¡±

    ¡°Hey, now. You know you¡¯re not supposed to say that name where people can hear.¡±

    Her eyes clear a little, her lips turning down in a pout she will never admit to. A slight one, easily mistaken as a frown. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°No worries. Rolly is always watching.¡± I kiss the pout away. Her arms tighten around me, her legs circling my waist as I settle between them.

    ¡°Work¡­¡± she mutters when I let her come up for air.

    I hum distractedly. It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll let her up when breakfast comes.

    In a perfect world, at least. This is not a perfect world and we are in the saints forsaken north of all places. It only makes sense that my wonderful morning is interrupted by a sudden scream.

 ARC 6-Winter War-105

    I¡¯m thrown away with no hesitation as Alana scrambles out of our stone dwelling. Lying on my back, I let out a huff of a laugh. I can¡¯t blame her for rushing off. Those reflexes have been ingrained in her over several years. I, however, have a different set of reflexes. Summoners don¡¯t run into danger. They send their elementals.

    What¡¯s the situation?

    [Good morning, my summoner. It appears the camp is about to be attacked.]

    Appears?

    [It¡¯s a rather unusual form of attack.]

    Before I can ask what she means, Alana ducks into the dwelling, quickly followed by Kierra. ¡°Get dressed and grab our things,¡± she snaps.

    Hearing the urgency in her voice, I hold my questions until we¡¯ve emptied the shelter and Bell collapses the stone. All around us, our army is in a similar frantic state, the confused hunters being guided by the tense but much more calm knights around them. Members of the other armies are crowding under the overhang and showing no signs of stopping. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Titan.¡± Alana grasps my arm and drags me past the crowd. ¡°Do you remember what I said about them?¡±

    I nod but then I realize she can¡¯t see that. ¡°Titans are a class of monsters in the north. They¡¯re big, strong, and durable. They are also supposedly attracted by large numbers which is why Victory sends several armies instead of marching together.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re forgetting the most troubling part,¡± Alana mutters. ¡°Titans are intelligent. Not clever. About as smart as a child. Enough to recognize patterns and learn from them. Normally, you¡¯d never see them this close to the mountains but some bastard has gotten bold. Or reckless.¡±

    Beyond the overhang, she points, directing my attention up the opposite mountain. If I squint, I think I can make out movement high up on the mountain¡¯s side. Dropping a ¡®film¡¯, the only details I can make out is that its white, a slightly off-white that distinguishes it from the pristine white snow surrounding it, and it¡¯s vaguely humanoid. I say vaguely because its arms look a little too long and its legs have an odd shape. Its behavior is also odd. It seems to be¡­probing the snow? I can¡¯t think of any other way to describe the way it shuffles about.

    ¡°What¡¯s it doing?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Sir Thomas has an idea. A bad one. Come on.¡±

    She pulls me toward the front of the army. There, the commanders are gathered, Zachariah, Thomas, and the Devil. The men look up as we approach, their expressions grim. It says a lot that I don¡¯t see a trace of disdain on the favored heir¡¯s face when he looks at Alana.

    ¡°Have we reached a conclusion?¡± Alana asks as we come to a stop.

    The Devil scoffs, the slightest movement of his armor suggesting a shrug of his shoulders. ¡°I still don¡¯t know if I believe this old bastard.¡±

    ¡°You pup. I¡¯ve been fighting in the north for longer than you¡¯ve been alive. I¡¯ve seen this before. Tiny up there is looking to bring the mountain down on us. One giant wave of snow, ice, and rock that¡¯ll exhaust all our mages to stop. The problem is that thing is going to use it as cover. We¡¯re good but a titan dropping into the middle of the army is going to cause problems.¡±

    ¡°Normally, it takes coordinated efforts from a dozen knights to take down a titan. That¡¯s in an open field under controlled circumstances. A titan jumping into the middle of the camp?¡± Zachariah shook his head.

    ¡°That¡¯s a big target,¡± I say, drawing their attention. ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot of casters and a lot more blades. Why not just throw everything at it?¡±

    The look Zach gives me makes me want to hit him. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to discuss the details of titan class monsters. Suffice it to say that it¡¯ll do too much damage before we can take it down.¡±

    ¡°The exception to that are the duelists,¡± the Devil. ¡°Knights with the skills to take down large targets. One spell, one kill. Better to let one fighter exhaust their mana for a night or two than have half the army drained.¡±

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    ¡°We¡¯ve got a few duelists, including Polluck,¡± Thomas continued. ¡°The problem is we have yet to identify the titan and we haven¡¯t made it through the mountains. Makes me nervous and I don¡¯t like committing valuable resources when I¡¯m nervous.¡±

    ¡°Which is where you come in, Lou,¡± Alana says. Her tone is brisk and professional but I think I detect a hint of smugness beneath that. ¡°You¡¯re strong enough to restrain the titan.¡±

    ¡°You think,¡± Zach bites out. ¡°This is her first time going against a titan. I rather not wager my soldiers¡¯ lives on an unproven fighter, no matter how strong.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why we don¡¯t send her alone.¡± Alana waves to the elf and succubi with me. ¡°Four physical affinity users. Two or three duelists behind them, ready to take action.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough from them to wager they can hold down a titan,¡± the Devil says.

    ¡°Better to have the girlies be a little tired than leave our mages empty. Who are we sending to take it down?¡±

    ¡°Magic and physical for unknowns. Since my sister is being generous with her forces, I say bring Polluck.¡±

    I look to Alana. At her brief nod, I send Bell off to find the vaulted Sir Pucky. ¡°Don¡¯t volunteer my people brother, but seeing as this is an emergency and I happen to agree, I¡¯ll let this slide. Surely you¡¯re as eager to volunteer your people.¡±

    He scoffs. ¡°I¡¯ll send The Mountain.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯ll send¡ª"

    ¡°Sir!¡± A skinny man skidding to a stop beside us interrupts the Devil, drawing a scowl. He flinches but keeps talking. ¡°The titan is changing its behavior.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s making its move. Are the casters ready?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re assembled.¡±

    Thomas scoffs. ¡°I hope those boys haven¡¯t gotten too warm since last year. I¡¯ll go stand on the front. Ladies, you¡¯re with me. Devil, set up a perimeter. You know the birds are going to be drawn by this. If we¡¯re lucky, they¡¯ll be satisfied with the titan corpse. I hope we¡¯re all agreed that there¡¯s no point fighting over it?¡±

    No one looks happy but they don¡¯t disagree.

    I could get rid of that corpse fairly quickly but it¡¯s likely not a good idea. Besides taking away the bait meant to protect the army, turning into an unknown purple slime was entirely different from turning into an unknown purple slime that could make bodies disappear in moments. Victory is more forgiving than I expected when it comes to my abilities but everyone has limits. Displaying that particular ability would raise uncomfortable questions.

    ¡°Zach, get the others ready to move. The worst thing that can happen from this is getting delayed. We need to be out of these mountains by the end of the day.¡±

    ¡°I know already, old man.¡±

    On some unspoken signal, the three commanders break apart, rushing to their assignments. Alana jogs after Thomas and the rest of us fall in behind them. Facing the mountain that the titan is on, a line of knights, mainly comprised of those from the Bleak Moons, stand tall and grim. Ready for what, I don¡¯t know. ¡°So, I¡¯m just wrestling the big man to the ground?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate that thing, Lou,¡± Alana says. ¡°The smallest titan is twice the size of an average building. You¡¯re strong enough to keep it contained but not if you¡¯re reckless.¡±

    A hint of nervousness tickles my gut. ¡°I¡¯m¡ª"

    A loud roar drowns out my words. It drowns out everything. The force of it seems to shake the air. My sensitive ears last two seconds before I shift them away, replacing them with purple slime. To my amazement, the knights around me don¡¯t even flinch. Alana shows the most reaction, lips pressed in a tight frown.

    My eyes jerk to the mountain and the imminent threat of the titan. They widen and my jaw drops as I see something incredible. The mountain is melting. Not the normal way, as in the ice turning to water. More like the melting wax of a candle, slowly rolling down the steep side. A wave of snow, ice, and stone that rapidly grows in size and speed. It soon grows large enough that it could swallow the whole of the army. Now I understand why the old commander was so worried. What a terrible attack.

    Thomas is yelling. Geneva, tell me what he¡¯s saying. And tell Alana to get back to the others. Drag her back if she doesn¡¯t listen.

    Oh, wait. Alana doesn¡¯t need the prompting. She claps my shoulder before sprinting away. From the corner of my eye, I notice a half dozen figures running toward the frontline.

    [Thomas is ordering the casters to build a wall. They are all earth casters. He is cautioning them to keep their spells to specific dimensions so the durability isn¡¯t compromised.]

    Nearly as one, thick gray stone walls rise to the height of my chest, the casters sheltering against them. I look at the wall and then back to the menacing wave of icy death headed our way. That¡¯s not enough to stop that.

    [It will mitigate it. The creature is coming.]

    What? With a start, I realize I don¡¯t see the small shadow of the titan. Where is it?

    [It is using the avalanche as cover.]

    ¡­and it¡¯s alive? These titans are ridiculous. Avalanche. I¡¯ll have to remember that. And there¡¯s no way I¡¯m jumping inside that. I¡¯m not worried about it hurting me but I¡¯m useless in that mess. That means the creature is going to hit the walls. I doubt they¡¯re going to hold.

    [They won¡¯t.]

    You know where it is?

    [The mind cannot be so easily obscured.]

    Get over there, make sure whoever¡¯s in the way of its charge doesn¡¯t get flattened.

    [Of course, my summoner.]

    I reach out to Kierra, drawing her excited eyes to me. ¡°That thing is hiding in the snow. Stay close to me.¡± It¡¯s weird speaking when I can¡¯t hear myself.

    I can imagine my wife¡¯s response from the curl of her lips.

 ARC 6-Winter War-106

    [It¡¯s coming.]

    The visual of the giant mass of snow hitting the hastily erected defenses is stunning despite the lack of sound sapping some of the impact. As I thought, the walls aren¡¯t enough to stop the unusual attack, plenty of the stuff going over their tops. Enough that I have no doubt a good portion of the armies would have been drowned in it if they hadn¡¯t acted quickly.

    I don¡¯t have the luxury of admiring the sight for long. Near the center of the defensive line, Geneva becomes a blur as she grabs three casters, one unfortunate knight being yanked by her tail wrapped around their throat and pulls them to the side. A moment later, the stone is shattered, the titan bursting through the wall along with a wave of snow.

    Alana told me about these creatures. Titans are not one type of monster. The word is a classification of gigantic manabeasts only seen in the north. She tried to warn me how very different they are from other manabeasts. How they can¡¯t be measured with the same scale the kingdom weighs other threats. Even right before this fight, she tried to give me the proper perspective of the enemy we faced. I still underestimated the word titan. In my defense, it¡¯s impossible to understand until you see it.

    If the smallest titan is twice the size of the average residence, then, thankfully, it¡¯s on the small side. It¡¯s taller than our manor at the Hall by at least one floor. My estimation that it was humanoid is correct but I missed the second set of arms extending from its incredibly wide chest. What isn¡¯t covered by thick, white fur is pale blue muscle. A ridiculous amount of it. One of its limbs is as thick as I am tall.

    Its mouth opens in a silent roar, exposing sharp teeth as long as daggers. Honestly, it¡¯s intimidating, but I don¡¯t have time to hesitate. I understand why the others were worried. That thing could crush the vulnerable casters holding up the wall if it sneezes too hard and I can¡¯t imagine a fire arrow or a sword doing much of anything to it. I¡¯m not sure I can do anything about this monster. But, secure in my ability to survive and lacking the time to second-guess the plan, I charge forward.

    Seeing as this titan is many, many times larger than me, I don¡¯t have a lot of places to target. I throw my full force into colliding with the creature¡¯s leg. The equivalent of someone kicking it in the shin. A pitiful attack strategy. Thankfully, I have a body that makes it ridiculous.

    I knock its foot from underneath it and it loses its balance, dropping to a knee. Day becomes night as a giant palm appears above me. No hope of dodging, not even with my speed. Instead, I throw myself into a gap between the fingers, thanking the saints I gauge it correctly.

    [Onto its hand, Lou!]

    I leap onto the back of its hand. Just in time as the titan presses its fingers together and then sweeps the ground, tossing up snow and earth as if it¡¯s loose sand rather than hard stone. I grip the white fur tightly to avoid being tossed off. I¡¯m supposed to control this? How in the¡ª

    I¡¯m suddenly thrown off as the titan flings out its arm. Careening through the air, I see the giant manabeast slap a hand to its face as it staggers backward. Dropping a ¡®film¡¯, I see a green blur zipping across the white fur of its chest for a split second before spinning ass over end.

    Hitting the ground like this is going to hurt.

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    [Fly!]

    Right. Flying form. Something big.

    I don¡¯t have time to sort through all my forms with wings so I grab one of the first on my instinctual list. My limbs lengthen, fingers changing to talons as brown fur erupts over my skin. My large wings strain painfully to slow my momentum, a screech escaping my new beak from the pain. I do stop, a reflexive motion of my wings pushing me into the sky.

    I dive at the titan frantically slapping its body to remove the green annoyance likely causing it no end of distress. I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯s going to take the knights to take this thing down. My job is to keep it away from the overhang where the armies are taking shelter. Suppose the only option is to push it further down the pass. Going to need a lot more mass.

    Another cry draws the titan¡¯s eyes to me. It ignores the little annoyance in favor of the loud, obvious prey, a large hand reaching toward me. A strong beat of my wings sends me above the grasping palm and then I draw on my largest form.

    As usual, the most I can conjure of the leviathan is a single limb and it causes a strange pain somewhere deep inside me. I only need it for a second, slapping the creature in its face before reverting back to my prime form.

    A large tooth flies through the air as the titan stumbles backward and falls, throwing up a large wave of snow as it falls on its back. I land on its chest and sprint toward its head. Normally, running at my full strength can pulverize weak stone but I can¡¯t even feel the titan because of the thick fur covering it. No wonder the knights aren¡¯t confident in bringing this thing down before it hurts someone. It¡¯s tough. Horrendously tough.

    The creature is starting to rise. Two angry blue eyes glare at me as its busted mouth sneers. Is that¡­blue blood staining its fur? Saints, why is its blood blue?

    No, not the time. Its eyes are glowing. Of course this thing is a caster. Lucky, this isn¡¯t my first time dealing with an opponent I don¡¯t have confidence competing with physically. No matter how tough it is, it shares the common weaknesses of most creatures. Like the need to breathe.

    Once I reach its neck, I throw myself at its head, shifting to my original form. I think I recognize genuine surprise on its face as I spread my ooze to cover its face, engulfing its head. I feel the vibration of its roar against my surface as its large hands attempt to claw me off.

    Haha, this brings back memories. Unfortunately, just like the trolls from the beginning of my new life, its brute strength means nothing against my¡­hm?

    I feel¡­cold. I haven¡¯t felt cold in a while. My prime form is resistant to changes in temperature, leaving me comfortable even in blistering or freezing temperatures. My original form doesn¡¯t feel anything. Or at least, it didn¡¯t. I sure feel it now. And it¡¯s getting worse.

    [It would seem you are not entirely immune to magic.]

    Damn. And from the continuous scraping of the titan¡¯s fingers, it¡¯s not losing strength anytime soon. I don¡¯t think I will win this battle of endurance. The parts of me that feel cold are quickly becoming numb. Is this damn thing freezing me? This¡­is a blow. If I stay put, can this thing¡­kill me? I can¡¯t risk finding out.

    [No need. Your role is complete. The knights are ready to end the threat.]

    I throw myself off the titan, shifting to my prime form before I hit the snow and sprint away. A hand holds my chest where the cold lingers, my lips twisting into a frown. I was cocky. Too cocky. I actually thought I was immune to magic. Not even the dragons have such a blessing. Apparently, it just takes a certain type of magic. Or a strong enough spell.

    I wince as another skull-pounding roar bludgeons my restored ears. A blinding flash of light adds to the sensory assault, whiting out my vision. The roar suddenly cuts out, leaving behind a poignant silence followed by a soft whump as something heavy hits the thick covering of snow.

    After several minutes of blinking away dancing black spots out of my vision, I look at my surroundings. The knights are swarming around the fallen titan that is no longer moving. Blood and brains paint the white field, spilling from a long, vertical gash in its head.

    A second. One attack and that monster of monsters is gone. They were not kidding and these people are scarily effective.

    The knights of Victory¡­are not to be underestimated.

 ARC 6-Winter War-107

    There¡¯s no time to gawk. The army is swarming around the titan. By the wall of conjured earth, the tired casters suffering from mana strain are put on the shoulders of knights and carried away from the area. I vaguely hear Zach yelling orders further ahead, accompanied by a parade of footsteps. The moment it¡¯s safe, the army is moving. Something that¡¯s required as shadows have already appeared in the sky. The doomhawks are circling. Only one or two but it won¡¯t take long for more to appear.

    Near the titan, Sir Plucky¡­oh, damn it. I suppose after that showing he deserves a little respect. The honorable Sir Polluck is by the titan¡¯s side, being supported by another knight from his order, their white armor with yellow suns on their chests quite eye-catching.

    He looks pale and his face is tight with either pain or stress, indicators that he¡¯s also suffering from mana strain. Unsurprising. That must have been a monster of a spell. All I saw was a flash of light. I wonder if that was the spell he¡¯s so famous for. According to Geneva, that could empty his core in seconds.

    Kierra is crouched on the titan¡¯s chest, a spot of stillness in a field of motion. Bell, check on Alana. I have to see what this elf is getting up to.

    I sprint toward the enormous corpse before taking a running leap, grabbing fistfuls of fur to keep from sliding off as I scramble onto the titan¡¯s chest. My nose twitches as I move toward my wife. Huh. This thing doesn¡¯t stink. It doesn¡¯t smell good but it doesn¡¯t reek of animal musk like most wild creatures. Does it take baths? That would be even stranger than its magic breaching my assumed immunity. Monsters don¡¯t bathe. Not unless they have a very good reason.

    I push the thought out of my head as I drop a hand on Kierra¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be moving.¡±

    ¡°This is an interesting creature,¡± she says, showing she has no intention of moving. ¡°Its insides are burning. It goes beyond mere insulation. It has no choice but to live in this freezing cold. The sun would cook it.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Very interesting but¡ª"

    ¡°And its muscles. So much power and durability but little flexibility. That¡¯s not the case for the secondary arms. I suppose they are the creature¡¯s weakness when you cannot simply crack open its skull. They are much weaker but the fingers have extra joints. They are incredibly dexterous. Why would this brute need dexterous fingers, hm?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, to make it easier to pull out the guts of its prey? We don¡¯t have time to wonder about this.¡±

    ¡°Most interesting of all is its sexual organs¡ª"

    ¡°Oh, come on!¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have any.¡±

    My indignation is pushed aside by overwhelming confusion. ¡°What do you mean it doesn¡¯t have¡ªno, this can wait. The birds are circling.¡±

    ¡°I think we are lucky to have such eager dinner.¡±

    ¡°The goal is not to fight, I think.¡±

    ¡°You should eat this creature.¡±

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    ¡°What? No.¡±

    ¡°We are past you keeping secrets, hm?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about my secrets.¡± Much. ¡°They want to use this thing as bait for the birds while we make our escape. If I eat this titan, we endanger everyone else.¡±

    She hums in displeasure. ¡°I want to examine this creature in more depth. Something is not right. This creature is wrong, very wrong. I want to know why.¡± Her lips are pursed in a rare pout as she gets to her feet. ¡°But the lives of the men must be prioritized.¡±

    ¡°You two!¡± I can¡¯t see Alana but her voice reaches us. ¡°We need to get moving.¡±

    I grab Kierra¡¯s arm and pull her with me, not giving her the chance to stall any longer. We leap off the corpse and land beside Alana, dressed in her armor with Bell hanging off her shoulder.

    ¡°Did you know the titan does not have genitals?¡± Kierra asks as we jog toward our army.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alana replies nonchalantly. ¡°Some of them are like that. Most, really. Titan is a classification for a reason. We rarely, rarely see the same type of titan in a single campaign. They all seem to be different species. The only thing they have in common is their size.¡±

    ¡°Have none of the north investigated this strangeness?¡± Kierra asks.

    ¡°Please. We aren¡¯t fools. Of course we¡¯ve tried investigating. The problem is, it¡¯s incredibly difficult. Field study is dangerous. Our people can only poke around a corpse for a few hours, at most, until other monsters smell a meal. Worse case, a bunch of different titans converge on the corpse and start fighting. Even if we did nothing but ran, we could still be annihilated. Under those conditions, it¡¯s a little hard to do effective research.¡±

    ¡°But there are conclusions you can draw. If there is no avenue of reproduction, then those titans are made artificially. Maybe by these Lords of Winter?¡±

    ¡°It could just be that they have a method of reproduction that we can¡¯t identify. But yeah, we¡¯ve thought of the other option. Most of the orders consider the titans to be biological weapons. We think there are real ones and fake ones modeled after them. There are some with privates too.

    ¡°Whenever some fool starts talking about pausing the campaigns to preserve the lives of the north¡¯s children or whatever nonsense the Order of Paradise Seekers starts spewing, the Bleak Moons hits them with the very horrible threat of a wave of titans left to grow until hundreds of them storm the fort. Always shuts them up.¡±

    That is a horrible event to consider. A hundred of the monsters I just wrestled with is a catastrophe. Victory wouldn¡¯t stand a chance, especially if they use crafty tactics. And if they move beyond Victory¡­ah. They can¡¯t. Kierra said they¡¯ll cook under the sun. That protects Harvest. Well, if all the titans are like that. Maybe that only applies to the artificial ones. Kierra described it as ¡°wrong¡± which she wouldn¡¯t attribute to a natural condition, no matter how strange.

    We reach our army. There is no sign of exhaustion on the faces of the hunters and acolytes as they move through the snow at a brisk pace. They looked exhausted when we made camp last night but they¡¯re certainly energized now. The titan must have put some life into them. They aren¡¯t even sparing breaths to gossip about what they¡¯ve seen, wholly occupied with escaping.

    The skies are becoming more active as more of the ravenous birds take flight, the shadows passing over the titan rather than the army. Seeing the plan work, I feel better about abandoning such a large meal and strong form.

    ¡°Not an auspicious start but not a bad one,¡± Alana says beside me.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°The campaign. We¡¯re doing well. Two days in, our army has fifty or so hawks and a titan on our kill count.¡± She turns toward me. ¡°Alongside what we can make from dismantling them, the monsters in the north have bounties. The hawks are a silver. The titans? Varies on size. Our friend back there is a hundred gold crowns, at least.¡±

    ¡°Saints.¡± No wonder the hunters and acolytes are here. That¡¯s a lot of money for one kill. Also must be why Alana didn¡¯t object to her brother volunteering one of our people for the plan.

    ¡°The knight who delivers the killing blow gets twenty percent of the bounty and the rest is split between the army. It¡¯s the only way to make it rich in Victory, really.¡±

    ¡°It should also be a good start on largest kill,¡± Kierra adds.

    To which Alana scoffs. ¡°You think that was big? Please. You haven¡¯t seen anything yet.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-108

    As we walk, the ground eventually starts to slope downward rather than up and the path narrows. Our pace slows as the army is forced to squeeze together. Not by much. Thomas, who I¡¯m guessing is the overall commander, insists we make it out of the pass before nightfall and he must be pushing the knights harder than the poor creatures dragging along the laden down wagons, who have remained remarkably calm despite everything that¡¯s happened. A titan drops in front of them? Don¡¯t even raise their heads. And they¡¯re strong. The acolytes need more breaks than they do. It¡¯s impressive. I almost want to send a few to my father for the village. Too bad they¡¯d cook under all that hair.

    Alana is tense, head swiveling as she nervously scans the mountain faces. I¡¯m more tense than her as I can hear the feasting murder birds behind us making a ruckus. It¡¯d be worse than devastating if something decides to attack us right now. Given we¡¯ve been attacked twice in two days, I wouldn¡¯t say the odds are bad.

    Thankfully, the saints are watching over us and nothing else disturbs us. The path eventually widens and deposits us onto flat land. Once the sky darkens, our progress comes to a halt and we make camp. The commanders enter a shouting match as they separate their forces. Come morning, the armies will go their separate ways and this campaign will truly begin.

    But that¡¯s tomorrow. Tonight, we work together, the knights setting up standing torches and arranging tents. For our people, the more experienced hunters are helping the acolytes, packing down the snow and having animated conversations as they pull out their camping supplies.

    ¡°Lou, have Geo feed our people. They¡¯re exhausted and I need them at least in good spirits tomorrow when they watch the other armies disappear. Kii, scout the area. I want you to head back through the pass for five leagues and then do a circle around the camp. Keep a close eye on the ground. A lot of monsters in the north like to burrow, especially at night.¡±

    ¡°As you desire, commander,¡± Kierra says with more than a little amusement as she runs off.

    ¡°Anything for me to do?¡± I ask, having given instructions to my succubus.

    ¡°Come with me.¡±

    I follow with mute interest as she moves through our rapidly forming camp. After a moment, I see she¡¯s heading for the white tents with a yellow sun painted on the flaps. The emblem of the Order of Polar Duelists. Victory has many knight orders and each of them pursues a different purpose. The Duelists train for one purpose. To reach the strength required to take down titans. Fighters who specialize in ¡°one and done¡± tactics. They are a critical component of any northern army so I¡¯m not surprised she is looking to make nice after one of theirs put performed well.

    Alana discretely peeks into the tents until she finds the one inhabited by a tired knight lying prone on a sleeping mat, the blonde young saint that is his heir kneeling at his side.

    Lancecain looks up at our approach, standing to meet us. Alana respectfully backs away as the apprentice comes out, closing the tent flaps behind him. Guess he¡¯s the protective type. ¡°Commander.¡±

    She winces. ¡°You don¡¯t need to use the title.¡±

    He smiles. ¡°I thought you would love the sound of it. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time.¡±

    If anyone else said that, those words would sound sarcastic, maybe even mocking. But this is Lancecain. I know he doesn¡¯t mean anything by his questionable choice of phrasing.

    Alana knows it too because her tone remains pleasant. ¡°Yes, well. It¡¯s mainly a concern for the rest of the army, not people I grew up with.¡±

    ¡°You are concerned about discipline.¡±

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    She lets out an annoyed huff. ¡°I wasn¡¯t until people I didn¡¯t choose got added to my ranks. No offense to your order or the others but your presence is unexpected.¡±

    ¡°I understand. Nothing irritates commanders more than someone messing with their plans.¡±

    ¡°Which is why it would be helpful to get a feel for my troops.¡± Oh hoh. I see what¡¯s happening here. She¡¯s tapping him for information. Or maybe asserting dominance? Reminding everyone who¡¯s in charge before she takes charge tomorrow. ¡°I want your people to talk to me.¡±

    ¡°We are in good shape. Master isn¡¯t suffering any ill effects from his spell. He will be combat worthy by tomorrow, full capacity in two. He will never admit it but he should rest another day before doing any fighting though. The others are in good shape, ready for the next titan.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Make sure you get dinner. It¡¯s not the usual army fare.¡±

    After a little empty chatter, we move on. I¡¯m not surprised as we make our way through the other orders. Each time, Alana calls out to someone and engages in what appears to be polite conversation. By the third conversation, I¡¯m positive she¡¯s asserting dominance. It¡¯s more subtle than monsters roaring at each other or a pissing match but it¡¯s unmistakable. It¡¯s the Order of the Waking Beast that gives it away, the knight who speaks with Alana practically snapping out every word.

    By the time our little tour ends, dinner is being served. I watch in amusement as the hunters crowd around the large fire Geneva is cooking over, shoveling food into their mouths as fast as their hands can move. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re not even chewing. Those who don¡¯t have food are in line, the closest trying to start conversation with the beautiful cook. She¡¯s handling the attention well so I direct Alana to set up our own shelter.

    As we get our things settled and lay out our bedrolls, I become quite sure that Alana is nervous. Usually, when we¡¯re alone, she relaxes, but there¡¯s still tension in her shoulders and a frown on her face as she takes off her armor. Lying on my side with my head cradled by a hand, I watch her fuss with her equipment for a few minutes before asking, ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±

    ¡°About what?¡± she mutters, looking over her sword for the fourth time.

    I purse my lips. Normally, this is where I would rush to tell her not to worry. That nothing can go wrong with our clan here to support her. But after fighting that titan, and knowing there are more out there, I can¡¯t say that. The most I can guarantee is our lives. The success of this campaign? The lives of the people we¡¯re leading into danger starting tomorrow? Not so certain about those anymore.

    Two days here have been a¡­humbling experience.

    But I can¡¯t leave her fretting. ¡°Shall I take a few stabs in the dark?¡± Her deep sigh only encourages me. ¡°We¡¯re not going to run into a mountain-size titan on our first day.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t get that big,¡± she says distractedly.

    ¡°Are you worried about the knights acting out? They wouldn¡¯t dare.¡± I think. If this were the capital, between our reputations and the power of her last name, no noble would have the courage to look her in the eye. The people of Victory are made of sterner stuff. I have no doubt they would rebel if they thought she wasn¡¯t up to the job.

    Oh. Is that it?

    ¡°You¡¯re going to do fine in command.¡±

    Her lips twitch. Got it.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been preparing for this for years. You know what you¡¯re doing. And since we¡¯re not investigating the journal, there¡¯s no pressure to do anything but kill a few monsters and go home whenever you want.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried,¡± she mutters. She slides her sword back into its sheath and sets it aside.

    She¡¯s definitely worried.

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m not worried about what I can do but the north is unpredictable,¡± she says after a long silence. ¡°It¡¯s not something that can be trained for, not really.¡±

    I hold out my arms toward her. She ignores me so I let them drop with a huff. ¡°We¡¯re going to do everything we can.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully, it¡¯s enough.¡±

    She¡¯s fussing with her helm when Kierra slips inside. ¡°There are no threats nearby. A shame.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not. It¡¯s a very good thing,¡± Alana says, some of the tension leaving her body.

    ¡°Alana is nervous about taking command tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± If she¡¯s not going to be honest with me, I¡¯ll leave it to Kierra to drag it out of her.

    As expected, the elf perks up at the words, eyes narrowing as she focuses on Alana. ¡°Is that true?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not nervous,¡± she quickly denies, looking very nervous as the elf stalks toward her. She scrambles backward until she reaches the wall of the shelter. Ah. So naive. Now there¡¯s nowhere to go. Kierra corners her, dropping to her knees and pulling Alana into a hug. A hand strokes the tousled blond hair like she¡¯s trying to soothe a child.

    ¡°Everything will be fine.¡±

    There. Her voice is dripping with confidence I couldn¡¯t muster. Is that experience? Or arrogance? Either way, as she continues stroking Alana¡¯s head, her frown melts and she buries her nose in the prodigious chest she¡¯s laying against.

    Now I just have to make sure the north doesn¡¯t make a liar out of my wife.

 ARC 6-Winter War-109-Robert

    Despite everything, the army was in a good mood.

    Objectively, Robert understood that they had plenty to celebrate. Despite two battles in two days, one of which was an ambush, they hadn¡¯t suffered any casualties. No injuries even. Not even a scratch.

    The monsters of the north each had bounties attached to them. Between the many doomhawks they¡¯d shot down and the titan killed by Sir Polluck, their army had already earned quite a few crowns. It was amazing considering they weren¡¯t even a week into the campaign. He understood now why the acolytes risked their lives in the north rather than getting conventional work in Quest. The reward was certainly worth the risk. Especially when it came with certain perks.

    It was difficult to maintain a bad attitude when everyone around him would rather celebrate. Lourianne¡¯s creature was an excellent cook. He had been wary of eating anything prepared by the thing but after hearing dozens of compliments, and watching one man cry into his bowl, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from tasting it. He was glad he did. The simple soup was the best thing that had ever touched his tongue. He was ashamed to say not even his mother¡¯s cooking could compare.

    At least he had the composure not to go for seconds.

    The others had no such restraint. They filled their bellies before stumbling off to their tents. It was their last night of relaxation, or as much as could be had in the north. While the armies were together, the knights wouldn¡¯t tolerate the less experienced hunters protecting them but once they struck out on their own, they would have to pull their own weight.

    ¡°If you¡¯re just gonna scowl all night, might as well go to sleep. You¡¯re ruining my drink.¡±

    Robert looked over his shoulder. It took a few moments for him to recognize the man standing a couple of steps away. He looked very different from how Robert thought of him. In his mind, when he thought of Arthur, he recalled a loud voice and wild hair. The soft-spoken, serious, neatly groomed man was a stranger. If he hadn¡¯t met the new Arthur once in Lourianne¡¯s home, he didn¡¯t think he would have recognized him at all.

    Along with a bowl of soup, he held a brown bottle. He brought it to his lips, taking two large gulps before dropping it. ¡°By the deep, I can¡¯t wait till this is over. It¡¯s cold as a sea hag¡¯s heart in this place. Can you believe these crazy bastards choose to live in this crap all year long? Their whole lives? I thought Graywatch was full of lunatics but Victory takes the crown.¡±

    ¡°¡­what do you want?¡± Robert was both confused and unnerved by the man¡¯s sudden friendliness.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you? Your nasty face is ruining my drink.¡±

    ¡°Drink somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°The fire¡¯s over here.¡±

    Robert shook his head. He might have cleaned up but the pirate-son was still the same rude bastard on the inside. He shook his head and turned away. After marching two days straight, he was too cold and tired for a fight. But before he could escape, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

    Robert scowled over his shoulder. ¡°I was leaving.¡±

    ¡°You should grow a spine, hero. Come here. Drink with me.¡±

    He briefly tried resisting being pulled closer to the fire but gave up rather quickly, settling for a frown as he let himself be dragged forward. The fact that he was being dragged toward the succubus still serving delicious food also factored into his lack of willpower. Once they were in line, Arthur¡¯s grip loosened. ¡°So, hero,¡± the pirate-son drawled. ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem.¡±

    ¡°In case you haven¡¯t noticed, this isn¡¯t the place for problems.¡±

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    ¡°Exactly. Got plenty of problems surrounding us. The last thing the captain needs to worry about is dissent amongst the crew. So, go on. Tell this big brother. What exactly is your problem with the lady handing out the gold?¡±

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s nothing someone like you can understand.¡±

    ¡°I believe that. Where I come from, we give goodwill to goodwill and don¡¯t dive into shark-infested waters. You¡¯re damn right I have no idea why you¡¯ve got a hate hard-on for a woman that¡¯s done you kindness several times and can snap you in half with her little finger.¡±

    ¡°Kindness!¡± he shouted. Several gazes turned to them and Robert lowered his voice. ¡°How has that woman done me any kindness?¡±

    ¡°I can name plenty of things but I¡¯m more interested in what she did that was so wrong.¡±

    Robert scoffed. ¡°What did she do that was so wrong? She ate my friend.¡± He might have been cloistered away with the others when the titan attacked but he had been watching the fight. There was no way he could miss the appearance of the mount gifted to him by his mentor. The one eaten by a purple slime.

    He hadn¡¯t put it together until he saw the winged creature diving toward the titan. Then it him like a fire arrow to the face. Something he had the displeasure of experiencing, though the spell had lacked heat in his training.

    ¡°Really? Saints¡¯ blessed asses, I didn¡¯t know the captain could eat people. The elf¡­eh. Definitely those creatures she keeps. Guess they¡¯ve finally corrupted her. Who was it then? Some poor lad, I bet. I can only see her eating women in one way, heh.¡±

    ¡°It was my mount.¡±

    Arthur looked at him in disbelief. ¡°Your mount.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Thorgood.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re challenging that monster for a horse?¡±

    ¡°He was a roc!¡± Robert spat out. ¡°Gifted to me by my mentor. My friend. And she ate him.¡±

    The pirate-son took another swig of his bottle. ¡°You summer boys really think different. To think you¡¯d challenge a captain because of a pet. Fuck. If Lou came to Graywatch, she could stab someone¡¯s mother and they¡¯d forgive her.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Why¡¯d she do it anyway? Lou¡¯s not the type to kill someone¡¯s pet for no reason.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what happened.¡±

    ¡°Really? You didn¡¯t do anything wrong?¡±

    Robert frowned. ¡°I guess¡­I¡¯m the one who attacked first.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡±

    ¡°No! It¡¯s not¡ª" He had to check his volume, taking a deep breath to calm his rising temper. ¡°She was in the form of that purple slime. I thought she was a manabeast that had raided a den of the creatures we were after. And we didn¡¯t start with an attack. We tried to scare her off. At any time, she could have turned into a human and told us to back off. Instead, she eats Thor and attacks us.¡±

    Arthur hummed. Before he could respond, they reached the front of the line. Robert stiffened as he stood before the smiling succubus. He was surprised to see Arthur was just as uncomfortable.

    The creature took no notice as she grabbed their bowls and filled them. ¡°Don¡¯t stay up too long boys,¡± she said in her alluring voice. ¡°We have a long day tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Arthur said quickly, dragging Robert away before he could blurt out his inner thoughts. There was silence as the two of them enjoyed their meal before Arthur continued their conversation from earlier. ¡°Eating your friend was wrong. But you got to look at it from her point of view. She was alone with a bunch of treasure and five bandits swooped down on her. She had the right to defend herself.¡±

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t have needed to defend herself if she just spoke to us.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to speak with people trying to rob me either. Besides, she warned you.¡±

    ¡°What do you know?¡± Robert asked. ¡°You weren¡¯t even there. She didn¡¯t give any warning.¡±

    ¡°Hey, hero. Didn¡¯t your daddy tell you never to fight a eat a fish you don¡¯t recognize? And the hunters teach their own not to fight unknown manabeasts. She didn¡¯t want to expose herself, which is understandable. Maybe she didn¡¯t say anything because she expected you to have the sense not to fight her. How did she know you were idiots?¡±

    Robert shook his head. ¡°If she wanted to warn us off, she could have done so without killing Thor.¡± He knew that for sure after witnessing her fighting the titan.

    ¡°Maybe after you attacked her, you pissed her off. Lou has a fickle temper.¡±

    ¡°Why are you defending her?¡± Robert asked, exasperated.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing my part to educate the future Harvest Hero.¡± Arthur drained the last of his bottle, sighing as he licked away the last drops.

    ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m lying. The captain is worried about you. Thinks you¡¯re going to be a problem. You don¡¯t want to be a problem. A lot of men go missing in the north.¡±

    Robert stiffened, looking at the man beside him with new eyes. His gaze flicked around his surroundings, taking in the many witnesses. It was a bluff. Not that he didn¡¯t like his chances against the other man but there¡¯d be consequences. ¡°Is that a threat?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. If she wanted you gone, you¡¯d be gone. We¡¯re talking because she doesn¡¯t want to hurt you. See? Kindness aplenty.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need anything from her.¡±

    Arthur sighed. ¡°You really need to open your eyes to the world, hero. Hopefully you learn to see things a little more clearly on this trip.¡± He walked away, carelessly tossing aside the empty bottle. ¡°Lest you don¡¯t return from it.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-110

    ¡°Oi, are they already leaving?¡±

    ¡°Crazy bastards.¡±

    Our army is the last to wake, Alana deciding our troops should at least have the benefit of a good rest after sacrificing the security of the other armies. By the time our people crawl out of their bedrolls and distribute dry rations for breakfast, the other armies are already preparing to move. While they are still eating, the Devil moves out, fearlessly leading the way into danger.

    I imagined that the knights were slowing their usual pace to accommodate the less able members of this journey, the outsiders, but I had no idea how much. Released from the constraints of cooperation, the Northern Devil¡¯s army, comprised solely of northern warriors, blitzes through the snow, rapidly disappearing. I¡¯m not the only one left gaping at the army seemingly sprinting away, wondering how long they can keep up the pace. Considering they are weighed down by numerous supplies and heavy armor, I would assume not long but I also don¡¯t think the Devil would exhaust his men without good reason.

    The next to leave is Thomas. The other army comprised solely of northerners. They don¡¯t race away like the others but even their marching speed is significantly faster than our previous pace. It also doesn¡¯t take them long to disappear into the distance.

    As breakfast is finished and camp is broken down, Zachariah¡¯s army leaves. In a matter of minutes, we are on our own, the seemingly endless north before us and the looming mountains behind us.

    For me, one moment is the same as the next but our soldiers don¡¯t remain so calm. Whispers abound amongst the uneasy hunters and acolytes. The knights grumble in discontent, not impressed with the weak mentality of the outsiders. Not a good way to start our cooperation.

    I¡¯m not the only one who notices the tension. Beside me, Alana frowns as she finishes her breakfast of bread, jerky, and hot water mixed with the juice of a bitter fruit they import by the wagon. Supposedly, it eases aches and keeps the mind alert. Tastes horrible, but it¡¯s a staple of the north. Even Alana, with her newly refined palette, drinks it without so much as a grimace. I¡¯ve seen her have a cup every other morning with breakfast while we stayed with her family. That¡¯s how I know it isn¡¯t the cause of her attitude.

    ¡°Want me to take care of it?¡± I don¡¯t know how good I¡¯d be at a rousing speech but I¡¯d try for her.

    ¡°No.¡± As expected, she refuses my help but she does smile. ¡°Let me borrow Geneva and Rolly. You should see to any preparations you need. There won¡¯t be another moment of relaxation like this for a long time.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need any preparations.¡±

    ¡°Sure?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m always in peak physical condition.¡±

    She gives me a very flattering look, running her eyes over me from head to toe. I perk up to give her a better view. I¡¯m not surprised by her interest. There isn¡¯t much else to look at. Because of my body¡¯s resistance to temperature, I¡¯m the only one walking around in one layer of clothes. Not even my wife can wear so little. Alana isn¡¯t the only one who¡¯s been staring. If I were vain, I¡¯d say I¡¯m the main contributor to our army¡¯s morale, ha!

    ¡°I don¡¯t disagree but the campaign is more than a physical trial. It¡¯s a mental one, or so I hear. It¡¯s easy to imagine constantly being on guard and fighting day after day wearing someone down. Not to mention seeing the same sights. Don¡¯t underestimate the north.¡±

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    ¡°I¡¯m not. Trust me.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°Alright. Honestly? I want a little distance from you and Kierra while I channel my inner James and rally the troops. The Stars tell me that my authority is a little too closely linked to you both. Which isn¡¯t a bad thing but it needs to be clear who¡¯s in command.¡±

    Ah. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll¡­do something.¡±

    She bumps me with her shoulder. ¡°Not mad?¡±

    ¡°No? Should I be?¡±

    She shrugs, the motion barely noticeable because of the armor she¡¯s wearing. ¡°I¡­I get worried that you¡¯ll regret this trip. If the titan on the second day is anything to go by, this is going to be a rough couple of weeks for little to no reward. You¡¯re my bannerwoman. My lackey.¡± She sighs. ¡°I know there¡¯s no way this army isn¡¯t decimated without you but you¡¯re only going to be remembered as my sword. All the honor goes to me. Not many of the north would accept such a bargain.¡±

    ¡°Not many northerners are fighting for love.¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°Tell that to my brother-in-law. That fool always makes a spectacle of himself, dedicating his largest kill to Yulia when he returns.¡±

    I am definitely going to do the same. As long as he doesn¡¯t have the bigger titan, then it¡¯d just be embarrassing. Can¡¯t believe I¡¯m eager for one of those bastards to show up again.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking something troublesome, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re imagining it. Here.¡± I take her cup from her hands. ¡°Go do your thing, commander.¡±

    With a huff, she grabs the helm tucked under her arm and slips it on before jogging off. I open my senses, looking for my wife. Instead, I find sobbing. Muffled cries that I could mistake as hiccups if not for the occasional sniffle.

    I should ignore it. Whoever it is, they clearly don¡¯t want to be found or disturbed. Saints, I can imagine the face of whoever it is seeing me after they¡¯ve gone through so much effort to hide their¡­condition. No one wants to be the one who cracks under pressure. I would know. My childhood never reduced me to tears but more than once, I escaped to dark places without any judging eyes. The saints know I wouldn¡¯t have appreciated anyone intruding, no matter their good intentions.

    Remembering the ¡®good times¡¯ makes up my mind and I put the crier out of my mind, resuming my search. It brings me a short distance outside the camp. For some unfathomable reason, my wife is standing alone, shin deep in the snow with her face tilted toward the sky. Still as ice. Barely breathing. Her position screams concentration. Makes me hesitant to interrupt her but the decision is taken from me.

    ¡°Come closer, Lou.¡±

    Given the invitation, I step up beside her. She doesn¡¯t move. I notice her eyes are closed and her lips are curved in a small smile. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°I am communing. The northerners think that this land is dead but there is life in the ground. I am trying to connect with it. It will give me a better understanding of this land and insights into its inhabitants.¡±

    Just when I think I understand the depths of her abilities. ¡°You¡¯re talking to the ground?¡±

    Her smile fades as her brows furrow. ¡°Trying, dedia. It is not one of my best skills.¡±

    Paradise must be about to fall from the heavens. Did I just hear Kierra Atainna admit there is something she isn¡¯t good at? Not a character flaw, like her attraction to trolls or her inability to understand my more passive nature. She¡¯s saying this is a skill that she has attempted and struggled to develop. That¡¯s a first. I didn¡¯t think someone with a pure affinity could struggle with magic. ¡°What¡¯s so hard about it?¡±

    She hums in thought. ¡°Normal magic depends on knowledge and logic. Pure affinity magic requires imagination and focus. There is no limit, as long as the caster can put themselves in the right state of mind. And that is my problem.¡±

    Her frown deepens. ¡°This kind of magic requires a state of mind that is hard to achieve for me. An¡­openness. As a Gardener once told me, I have to move outside of myself and become a simple branch of the Great Spirit¡¯s Tree. To make oneself small to understand the enormity of the world.¡±

    I scoff. Make herself small? No wonder she¡¯s having trouble. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like you, no.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her eyes snap open and she stretches. ¡°The environment is not helping. While the north is not bereft of life, compared to Dusk, it is a wasteland.¡± She lets out a cute little huff of annoyance. ¡°Distract me, my love. Is our star ready to begin the hunt?¡±

    ¡°Soon. She¡¯s rousing the troops.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°She asked me to.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Asserting her dominance.¡± She claps my shoulder. ¡°Do not despair. You are still in charge in the bedroom.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not upset about it. This is what we¡¯re here for. She can boss me around as much as she likes.¡± As long as everyone remembers what should and should not be done.

 ARC 6-Winter War-111

    Our formation as we move deeper into the north is vaguely triangular, the point facing the looming mountains. The base of the triangle, the frontline, contains the bulk of our forces, comprised of the Bleak Moons, the Waning Stars, and the hunters with the capacity to hold back monsters. Another requirement is the courage to confront a titan head on. Because of that, a few eligible hunters were pushed to the back.

    Our supplies are in the middle of the formation. Alongside the wagons are the two firing columns, the casters who are more comfortable slinging magic from a distance. Protecting them and the valuable cargo are those who couldn¡¯t or wouldn¡¯t join the frontline.

    Behind them are the reserve forces. Those meant to plug any holes or assist any group that needs assisting. This is where the titan-killers, the Polar Duelists, stay, reserving their strength. It is also where the less¡­desirable soldiers are assigned. I didn¡¯t think there was bias amongst the orders. Well, it¡¯s obvious the Moons might receive some favor, being the order sponsored by the James family. But I thought the others were equal.

    Should have known better.

    There is plenty of bias amongst the orders, both because of what they can do and what they believe. The Duelists, for example, are almost as beloved as the Moons. Their members are famous in Victory, at least among the natives. They are also some of the richest knights in Victory, though they spend their wealth on weapons and more training rather than opulent homes and luxury items. They are elites amongst elites.

    Then there are the orders that are not liked very much at all. Such as the Order of the Paradise Seekers, a group of saintly knights. Specifically, they see the conquest of the north as a holy mission and think if they manage to complete it, they and their families will be granted access to the perfect afterlife that is Paradise. They also think the hordes of the north are spawns of pure evil bent on the destruction of all living creatures and that Victory is the only thing standing in the way of the end of the world or something just as catastrophic.

    The religious fanatics. There¡¯s always some. And just like all fanatics, they have little respect for those who don¡¯t share their views. They follow orders but do they respect their commanders outside their order? Do they respect the James family? No. It makes them a pain to work with, according to a grumbling Alana.

    But they aren¡¯t the worst. That honor belongs to the Order of the Rising Dawn. The group that believes that the north is a waste of time. Full of disillusioned knights, mostly from the other orders, their mission is to liberate the younger generations from the curse of constant war.

    They spend their money relocating those who want a different life to other parts of the kingdom and loudly advocating for the end of the campaigns. It¡¯s amazing they haven¡¯t been hung off the fort¡¯s walls by their toes. I suppose their service offers them some protection. It does not earn them any favors, as they are placed in a position that will not offer them many chances to make money.

    I never imagined there was so much politicking amongst the knights.

    At least the rear is simple. There¡¯s a group from the Order of Winter¡¯s Bounty, who are in charge of processing our kills and the other valuables we find. In charge of protecting the rear are the Waking Beasts, the knights with bad tempers. They are also the best scouts in the north apparently. Alana is more concerned about being ambushed than discovering threats. The monsters in this part of the world are not subtle. Besides that, Kierra is acting as our forward scout.

    I¡¯m so concerned about our formation and the politics behind the orders because it¡¯s the only things to focus on during the boring march. It¡¯s been three days since the armies separated. Three days with nothing but snow.

    The first two days, we spent following in the footsteps of those who went before us. If there were any threats in the area, they were either already taken care of or scared away. All the tension rapidly faded after the first day, the hunters shaking in their boots calming when a titan didn¡¯t fall from the sky. They remained tense, moving forward with the skittish nature of mice without saying a word. Good for safety, very bad for entertainment.

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    On the third day, we came upon a large stone. Having been a part of the planning, I know this stone, and several others like it, are artificial landmarks to guide the armies. It¡¯s our signal to turn from our straight march and head northeast, more east than north.

    From that point on, we are on our own path. The true campaign has begun. Luckily, the day remains uneventful. Or perhaps unluckily. From the mutters I¡¯m hearing, the hunters are getting a little lax. The acolytes are a lot laxer. They didn¡¯t have a good view of the titan, being sheltered behind many knights, and the lack of battle has lowered their guards. There are even a few bastards muttering that the campaign is easier than they expected. Really hope they don¡¯t get themselves killed.

    Our camp also looks different than it did while with the others. The tents are arranged in a much tighter circle and metal stakes, sharpened on each end, have been hammered into the ground around them, a safety precaution that¡¯s been implemented since our first night alone. Another precaution is the restriction against fire. Warm meals are important but prolonged fires draw monsters. Only one fire is allowed to burn in the middle of camp, just long enough to cook a meal and not a second longer.

    It¡¯s far from a vacation but we are managing fairly well. My household more than the others. Alana has a weaker constitution than some of the knights but is spending the campaign comfortably. Sleeping between her two lovers keeps her warm and she nods off without a care, perfectly assured of her safety. A luxury the rest of the army doesn¡¯t have.

    The third night is shaping up to be the same as every night before it, with us huddled together on the floor of a stone shelter erected by my imp, when Rolly appears above our heads, black as a shadow except for the swirling circles of her face. ¡°You¡¯ve got a problem!¡±

    Alana, who was comfortably resting on the elf using her magic to make her stronger, bolts upright. ¡°What kind of problem?¡± she demands.

    ¡°And why hasn¡¯t Geneva said anything?¡± She¡¯s on night watch.

    [Hm? I don¡¯t detect anything.]

    ¡°Wind spell. Biiiig zone of silence is spreading toward the camp. Powerful stuff.¡±

    ¡°Silence?! FUCK!¡±

    My future saint leaps into action. She doesn¡¯t even pause to grab her armor before snatching up her sword and dashing out of the tent. We are on her heels as she rips open the flaps of the closest tent, belonging to the ladies of the Stars sent by her father, and snaps, ¡°Reapers incoming!¡±

    The lady knights react the same way as Alana, taking a little longer to slip on their armor before dashing through the camp, yelling about reapers. I shadow Alana, trying to remember what monsters she¡¯s talking about. She mentioned many of the threats we¡¯d be facing but there were so many, the details are hard to keep straight.

    [Reapers. Also known as ice prowlers. Doglike monsters that stand on two legs and have opposable thumbs. They are known for using ice as both a means of travel, skating across it, and as weapons. They attack at night using hit and run tactics, weakening their prey over several nights before going for a finishing blow.]

    Ice. That has nothing to do with a wind affinity.

    [Rarely, reapers will move with crescent goliaths, large herbivorous creatures that avoid predators by projecting a constant zone of silence. It makes them several times more dangerous.]

    I hate this place.

    ¡°Lou.¡± With over a dozen people running through the camp, waking the rest of the army, Alana focuses on me. ¡°I need you.¡±

    I keep the grin off my face, knowing this isn¡¯t the time. ¡°Name it.¡±

    She steps closer, lowering her voice. ¡°We don¡¯t fight the reapers. It¡¯s pointless. Their hunting parties contain dozens of fighters and they multiply faster than rabbits. They¡¯re dangerous but cowards. If we rebuff them for two nights, they should leave us alone. However, the goliath changes things. They congregate around them. There could be hundreds coming our way and a group that large needs prey. They won¡¯t stop until they have us. We need to kill that goliath. That¡¯s what holding them together.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°Take Kii. I need the succubi here to make sure no one dies.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything reckless.¡± A quick glance to my imp that is sitting at her heels to remind her of her role and I take off, Kierra by my side.

    ¡°A moment, dedia. If we are hunting a creature these people call a goliath, I will need something larger than my fists.¡±

    ¡°Quickly.¡±

    We stop by our shelter. She dives inside, emerging soon after with a spear and several knives attached to her waist. ¡°Ready.¡±

    Great. Let¡¯s go hunt a goliath.

 ARC 6-Winter War-112

    Past the camp, the gloom is too deep to make out my surroundings, the natural light of the moon and stars covered by thick clouds. A ¡®film¡¯ turns the dark night into a scene of gray and silver. There are no signs of these reapers but on the horizon, there is a mountain of snow that I could swear wasn¡¯t there earlier. Oh, saints. Don¡¯t tell me that¡¯s the goliath we¡¯re supposed to be killing? My footsteps slow as I take in the enormity of the task ahead of us. That¡¯s not a titan. That is a small moving mountain. I can¡¯t make out any details from this distance.

    It¡¯s so far away but it¡¯s casting a spell that is affecting us here. It is also an aura, meaning it¡¯s stretching in all directions. The amount of power that takes is absurd. Not to mention it keeps this enormous magic powered at all hours. Even if that¡¯s the only magic this creature is capable of, that is still impressive. The amount of mana it has must be staggering. It also must have a ridiculous rate of regeneration.

    A strong blow to the back sends me stumbling forward. I turn to see Kierra glaring at me. ¡°Do not falter, Lou,¡± she whispers. ¡°The creature does not have combative abilities. It is merely a big target.¡±

    ¡°A very big target.¡± I frown at my soft voice. I didn¡¯t whisper. Ah. This must be the effect of the zone of silence, muting sounds around the goliath. So, the closer we get, the more absolute the zone becomes. That¡¯s going to be¡­disorientating.

    ¡°Yes. I think this will only annoy it.¡± My wife looks at the spear she¡¯s carrying with some distaste. ¡°I underestimated the size of these creatures. I should have brought more weapons.¡±

    ¡°I thought you brought plenty.¡±

    ¡°I have variety, not quantity. My thought was to figure what worked best on these creatures, not taking down¡­that.¡± She waved her hand in the direction of the living hill. ¡°Normally, in the forest, I can fashion weapons as I please and most opponents do not require more than one blade. I am not used to bringing extras.¡±

    ¡°Does it need more than one?¡± She¡¯s quite fond of putting the pointy end of her weapons through creature¡¯s eyes. It may be big but no matter how big it is, a spear through the brain will bring it down.¡±

    ¡°I put a sword through the eye of titan. It did not reach deep enough to bring it down. This creature is several times larger. And it has defenders.¡±

    Ah. ¡°Do you think more spears will help?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°We could collect them from the camp.¡±

    ¡°I am thinking hundreds, not a handful, my love. Do not worry. We will simply need to get a little creative. Are you ready?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s do it.¡±

    We continue sprinting toward the creature. Despite our speed, which can outpace the fastest steed in all the kingdom, it takes several long minutes before we¡¯re close enough that I can make out any features of the goliath. All the while, the sounds of the world slowly disappear. It starts with the rapid crunching of snow beneath our feet. Then our breaths, misting on the cold air. Then my own heartbeat. The world goes completely silent.

    As I thought, unsettling. I imagine a horde of fast-moving monsters moving in this quiet zone under the total darkness common to the north. No wonder they¡¯re called reapers. I understand the franticness of the camp now. They could have swooped in without anyone noticing. Someone in the tent next to the knights could be gutted and they wouldn¡¯t hear a thing. And they only attack at night, killing who they can while their prey is disorientated before disappearing. Insidious.

    As for the goliath, it¡¯s a lot more monster-looking than the titan. It walks on four, thick legs, each as wide as a neighborhood. A small head, comparative to the rest of its body, with a long¡­nose? I¡¯m not quite sure what to call it. It¡¯s where the nose should be but it¡¯s not like any nose I¡¯ve seen.

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    It¡¯s incredibly long and quite flexible, sweeping through the snow after the goliath¡¯s every step. The wide body is large enough to settle a small village on. What gives me that impression is I think I can see structures on it. Conical ones, made of ice. What makes me think buildings rather than random pieces of ice are the many entrance-like holes in them. Judging from the size and number, I agree there are at least a few hundred reapers coming our way.

    I also notice another problem. A big one. I don¡¯t see the usual vital points. No eyes. No ears. That could be on account of the thick white fur covering its body but I don¡¯t even see indentations or folds to suggest the features. That¡¯s going to make it infinitely harder to kill this thing.

    As the goliath takes another large step forward and its nose-like appendage sweeps the snow before it, several dark shapes slide down. Several fast shapes that don¡¯t lose speed as they rush toward us in a wave, swerving left and right. They move like they¡¯re trying to avoid enemy fire. I feel a spike of sympathy for anyone given the task of hitting them at range, whether it¡¯s with arrows or spells.

    As the goliath takes another step forward, another wave of reapers comes sliding down its nose. Again. And again. In minutes, a group of dozens are coming toward us.

    Mm, definitely dogs. Dark fur mostly, though a few have white stripes, spots, and splotches in their coats. Alana said they skated on ice. What she failed to explain is that the ice they skate on is beneath their paws. The snow turns to ice beneath them and these monsters are moving incredibly fast on it.

    I hate to say it but they are graceful. I would think bipedal hounds with bowed legs and paws would be gangly and clumsy. Instead, they have incredible balance. Some of them are even doing tricks, spinning while on one leg or sliding on their bellies. At least these bastards have a sense of humor.

    ¡°How do you want to handle this?¡± I shout at Kierra but I don¡¯t hear my own voice. Right, zone of silence. That means no cooperation. Something that wouldn¡¯t be an issue if I was a bit more practiced with my mental affinity. Sigh. Been a while since I ran into a problem that my prime form can¡¯t solve. And this is a really big problem. Saints damn it all.

    It¡¯s not like I can turn around. The camp behind us is, well, not vulnerable, but Alana is depending on us to stop this threat here, tonight, before these creatures can inflict serious damage. I also can¡¯t leave Kierra to face this alone. Even if she might thank me for it. So, I set aside my misgivings and speed up.

    The swerving reapers tighten their loops as they narrow in on us. Ice appears in their hand-paws, quickly forming weapons. A strange weapon that resembles a short staff with scythe heads on either end. They twirl their weapons as they speed up, the wind blowing back their long fur.

    They reach Kierra first. The first one swings at her. She comes to an abrupt stop, ducks, and jabs at it with her spear, catching the creature in the side. Its mouth opens in what I imagine is a pained howl but it manages to stay on its feet, pulling off her spear as it continues forward.

    She strikes out at the next reaper but it avoids the spear tip, one leg coming up and kicking off a pane of ice that appears in the air, sending it twirling out of range. The next reaper leaps over her, a thicker pane of ice appearing under it and deflecting her spear strike. As it lands, it throws several daggers of ice behind it, followed by its compatriots as they swerve around the elf. She bares her teeth at them as she deflects the projectiles.

    I don¡¯t have time to see more as I have my own dogs to deal with it. Like Kierra, they attempt a close-ranged approach first but my attacker is a little braver than hers. His weapon snaps in the middle and he leaps at me with two scythes.

    Trusting in my defense, I ignore the blades as I open my arms. I grimace as they dig into my shoulders as I wrap my arms around the monster. Its jaws open as it attempts to bite my face but I headbutt it in the snout while tightening my hold. Bones snap and the monster goes limp. They¡¯re fast but delicate. Good.

    Grabbing the dog by its arm, I throw it at the closest reaper. It bends over backward to dodge its comrade. In that miraculous pose, it sticks out its weapon, using the flat side to hit my leg. The ice shatters and the monster continues past me. And like my wife, once they realize I¡¯m too tough in a frontal assault, they give up, pelting me with weapons made of ice. But none of them stop. They all speed past us. Heading for the camp.

    I grit my teeth. Bell is there with Alana and several competent knights. Geneva is also there to protect the less competent members of our army. My role is to take down the goliath. I may not be a knight or a soldier but I know an army only functions when people follow the commander¡¯s orders. It¡¯s hard, but I bury my worries and continue running.

 ARC 6-Winter War-113

    I raise my arm as I sprint forward, protecting my eyes, and my vision, as the projectiles aimed at us become a constant rain. Kierra slows and moves behind me, ducking so she can use me as cover. I can¡¯t hear her but a soft palm on the small of my back tells me she¡¯s there and urges me forward.

    The goliath is impossibly large. The closer we get, the more apparent that fact becomes. Before today, I couldn¡¯t have imagined a living being larger than the Summer Palace. Finally, I understand why the walls around the major cities are so tall. Rather, I think they are not tall enough. Thankfully, the north is an exception when it comes to monstrous threats.

    We¡¯re close enough now that I can feel the ground tremble with each of the goliath¡¯s steps. The projectiles raining down on us change. The thin spikes of ice intended to skewer become balls of ice the size of my head. They are much slower but there are so many of them, it¡¯s useless to attempt dodging. And while they also do no damage to my sturdy skin, they explode on impact, spraying shards of ice and show that disrupt my vision. It¡¯s not enough to distract me. Saints, I don¡¯t think anything could obscure the towering mountain before me.

    The cold hand of dread grips my heart as I try to imagine a way to bring this thing down. Right not, it seems quite impossible. A mountain could fall on this thing and it could probably walk it off. What do you do against creatures like this?

    While I¡¯m still grappling with the problem of how to bring the goliath down, Kierra sprints past me, throwing up snow as she picks up speed. I watch as she leaps onto the swinging nose and runs up it. For a brief moment. A crowd of reapers gathers atop the creature¡¯s head and then the entire front side of the goliath¡¯s nose is coated in ice. Kierra slips. Her hands scramble to find purchase but they skip off the ice. When the goliath swings its nose, she¡¯s sent flying.

    There¡¯s a sharp spike of worry as I watch her crash into the snow but I know very well how tough she is. I refocus on the mission. As expected, there are reapers on this thing¡¯s back and they¡¯re going to do everything they can to stop us. I¡¯ll share Kierra¡¯s fate if I try to climb on top of this creature.

    I need to reach its back in a moment but that¡¯s too far, even for me. And what good will it do me? I doubt there¡¯s a glowing patch of fur that screams ¡®fatal weakness¡¯ up there. The only thing that will change is that I will be just as stumped on how to bring this thing down while surrounded by a crowd of reapers.

    Ah, forget it. Even if I can¡¯t bring this thing down, each reaper I kill is one less to harass the camp. It¡¯s all I can do so it¡¯ll have to do.

    Decided, I sprint forward. Ignoring the trunk, I focus on its side and leap with all my strength. I just manage to grab the lowest hairs of its belly. I wonder if I resemble the pinch of an insect as I haul myself higher. Probably less. I at least swat such creatures when they bother me. The goliath is completely unbothered, continuing its march without paying me any mind.

    The reapers are another story. They gather at the side of the goliath, their mouths pulled back in fierce snarls. This close, I can just barely see the glow of their eyes as ice forms around them, more of the head-sized balls.

    I leap sideways as the first is launched at me. There¡¯s no time to waste as I leap again, pushing off the goliath¡¯s side with my boots as I scramble for handholds in the creature¡¯s thick coat. I have to move quickly and unpredictably if I want to avoid Kierra¡¯s fate. I imagine there¡¯s too much area to cover for them to try the same ice trick but if I linger in one spot for too long, I doubt they¡¯ll waste the opportunity.

    ¡°Fuck!¡±

    I scream silently as a lucky ice ball hits my hand, breaking my grip. While I¡¯m swinging, half a dozen hit my chest and knock me loose. I let out a stream of curses as I tumble backward, fighting desperately to find another handhold. I do manage it but change tactics. Instead of climbing straight up, I crawl under the goliath¡¯s stomach, using the creature as protection. Safe from the ice, I eagerly scramble toward the creature¡¯s head. Once I reach its neck, I leap upward.

    The distance from the goliath¡¯s neck to its head is much shorter than the height of its haunch. It only takes three leaps to reach the top. Faster than the reapers can react. Leaving me standing on the goliath¡¯s head facing an army of the dog-like monsters. Almost as one, hundreds of glowing gazes turn to me. The reapers at the front of the crowd form the doubled-headed scythes I¡¯ve seen them use.

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    Things quickly become a blur. I vaguely recall slamming into the monsters¡¯ frontline, wanting to keep the advantage. The world becomes dark fur with the occasional flash of white teeth and clear ice. The meaty thumps of my fists hitting the small bodies, the pressure of their jaws as they try to bite me when their magic doesn¡¯t work, and my dizziness as multiple impacts spin me around combined with the strange silence makes everything feel¡­unreal.

    At some point, they switch from trying to kill me to trying to restrict me. They crowd me, pushing as a wave until they back me against one of the ice structures. A wave of water drenches me from head to toe before freezing, trapping me in the building¡¯s wall. I close my eyes as a scythe tries to carve out my eyes, the pressure on my eyelids uncomfortable but preferable to the alternative. Trying circumstances to weave a spell under but I manage. Mostly because it¡¯s simple. A spell to heat my surroundings. A comfort spell as common as a fire arrow.

    It normally takes a unit or two of mana to warm a chilly room to a comfortable temperature. Injected with forty units of mana, it¡¯s enough to instantly evaporate even the thick ice trapping me.

    The reapers flinch away from the hot steam, howling in silence. It gives me room to move and I dive into the center of them. When they attempt the same tactic as before, I don¡¯t try to fight them off. I simply shift. It¡¯s much harder for them to push on smooth purple ooze. Forming dozens of limbs, I swat the reapers away, throwing them off the goliath. In minutes, the army of hundreds is reduced to dozens. Not just from me knocking them aside. They flee in the face of an enemy they can¡¯t understand, regrouping inside their ice structures.

    From a safe height, dozens of ice balls appear above the heads of the reapers. Then they come together, forming something much larger. The ice also tints blue. Never a good thing when elements shift from their natural colors.

    The giant ball of ice hits me with enough force that the goliath stumbles. I think I¡¯ve flustered them if they¡¯re harming their precious ally. Another one of the giant projectiles is forming even as I pull together my ooze. But before it can be thrown at me, the goliath stumbles again.

    The third stumble is the largest yet. It¡¯s not helped by the second giant ball of ice launched at me. The opposite, even. I don¡¯t know if my luck is exceptional or exceptionally poor but the ice hits the goliath just as it sways. It¡¯s enough to tip it.

    Reapers pour out of the buildings like rats from a tipped over barrel as the goliath falls sideways. I¡¯m also thrown from the creature¡¯s back, pulling my ooze into a ball as I hit the snow. A moment later, the tall wave of snow thrown up by the goliath falling covers me, along with chunks of ice from the shattered buildings.

    Then, the noise slams into me.

    Hundreds of monsters barking, yapping, and yowling in a mixture of anger and pain along with a low groan that shakes my bones in the background. Seems the silence has been broken. Saints, if this is the horrible racket I¡¯ve been avoiding, I wouldn¡¯t mind it¡ª

    A horrible screech, full of so much pain it¡¯d be heart-wrenching if my ears didn¡¯t feel like they were fracturing from the onslaught of sound, shakes the air. Which sets off another round of yowling from the reapers.

    Once again in my prime form, I claw my way out of the snow, ready to slaughter the lot of them just to make it stop. But as I poke my head out, the first thing I see are the dogs fleeing. Running for their lives. Or more likely, their ears. I don¡¯t blame them.

    The goliath grabs my attention with another of its pained yells. Quickly confirming that the reapers are not all rushing toward the camp in a suicidal rush, I turn my attention to the titan. The thrashing titan whose kicking legs make the ground shake beneath me as I stumble my way back to it. I tightly grip its fur and onto the side of its face. On my knees and with my toes dug into its coat to maintain my balance, I clasp my hands and bring them down on the creature¡¯s head. Again and again and again. At some point, the howling of the goliath suddenly dampens as something wet trickles out of my ears but I keep going. Even when I feel the creature¡¯s skull cave, finally, I keep hitting it.

    A hand on my shoulder stops me, my ears popping painfully. I look up and scream at the red monster beside me, instinctively lashing out with a fist. It lets out a huff of air, hunching over from the blow.

    ¡°A little rough, dedia.¡± A familiar voice comes from the nightmare.

    ¡°Kii?¡± Now that I¡¯m looking closer, there¡¯s a recognizable shape underneath all the blood and guts. Yes, it¡¯s not a horrible monster without skin. I recognize those eyes, more green than gold in the lack of light.

    Red hands reach up, wiping her cheeks to reveal hints of green skin. She flashes a feral smile, blood dripping from the corners of her mouth. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°¡­what did you do?¡±

    ¡°Did you not see? I brought the creature down. Come.¡± Bloody hands grab my shoulders and pull me out of the goliath¡¯s head. I shiver at the feel of the mushed brains on my hands, a sensation I somehow blanked out until this moment. I don¡¯t know how Kierra is smiling while covered in similar gore. ¡°The rest of the prey is getting away.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-114

    I follow behind Kierra as she leaps off the goliath, scanning the snow. Unfortunately, there are no tracks for her to follow. After all, the reapers don¡¯t run. They skate. Incredibly fast. There is no sight of them and no leads to follow.

    Kierra is ready to run in a random direction in hopes of getting lucky but I stop her, turning her toward camp. Rather than chase fleeing enemies, I would rather make sure our army is okay. More specifically, that Alana is okay.

    To convince the elf that is still hungry for blood, I remind her of all the enemies that slipped past us as we rushed the goliath. It¡¯s the only direction we can be sure some of the reapers went. That¡¯s enough to convince her and we race back to the camp. It¡¯s a much shorter journey as the goliath didn¡¯t stop its forward march until it tipped over.

    Given the number of enemies, I expected the camp to be a battlefield. There¡¯s certainly enough of a commotion amongst the tents. However, the raised voices are barking commands rather than screaming war cries. The spikes surrounding the camp are laden with reaper corpses but I can¡¯t see any signs of combat. The usual two sentries and patrols of three have been replaced by groups of five or more, heads swiveling as they scan the darkness for threats.

    More than one group spots us as we run toward the camp. The more anxious of the lot, usually the hunters, point their weapons at us or raise a hand in preparation of throwing a spell. Thankfully, for everyone¡¯s sakes, my wife and I are quite recognizable. They relax, turning their attention back to the surroundings as we move deeper into the camp.

    The fire has been rekindled and stoked high. All around it are the injured. The worst are lied out on blankets, their armors stripped and bloody bandages covering significant areas of their bodies. Those who didn¡¯t make it have been wrapped up in sheets and placed to the side. Only three, which I suppose is a miracle given how many enemies there were.

    The not-so-injured are standing by the patients with weapons drawn, ready to defend them while waiting for knights with pale yellow cloaks to tend to the wounded. I¡¯m shocked to see Alana among their number, sans armor, standing between two rows of patients with her sword in hand, one leg heavily bandaged. I hurry over to her side, scowling as I look for an imp I¡¯m going to boil for not doing her job.

    ¡°Lou! And¡­¡± She grimaces as she spots Kierra behind me, hobbling forward. I speed up, catching her by the shoulders. Her eyes flick over me, looking for wounds. Seeing I¡¯m fine, she scowls rather than smiles. ¡°Please tell me you killed that enormous shit.¡±

    ¡°Why are you injured?¡± I counter.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, the thing is dead. Kii!¡±

    Alana recoils as the bloody elf steps forward. ¡°I feel like if she touches me, I¡¯ll die.¡±

    ¡°How cruel, little sun.¡± The seductive voice does not match my wife¡¯s current horrific image. ¡°I would never. And if the creature did have a bloodborn sickness, my magic would eradicate it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not confident.¡±

    ¡°Just let her heal you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather she put her magic where it¡¯s needed.¡± With her free hand, she gestures at the dozens of men and women laid out on the ground. ¡°A lot of people didn¡¯t have time to put on their armor and those stupid acolytes weren¡¯t prepared. If I do become duchess, the first thing I¡¯m doing is banning any of these idiots from ever returning.¡±

    ¡°What does that have to do with you standing here injured?¡± And where is Bell?

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    ¡°Bell stabilized me before helping the others. Before you get angry about her going against your orders and yes, I¡¯m aware she¡¯s my bodyguard, I threatened to run after the reapers, putting myself in more danger, if she didn¡¯t do what I said.¡±

    ¡°And why would you do that?¡± I hiss through grit teeth.

    ¡°Because these people are my responsibility.¡±

    ¡°I left Geo here to handle it.¡±

    ¡°She used a solid chunk of her mana diverting the literal army of reapers that descended on us. Once the fighting was done, I put her in reserve in case something is attracted by all these bodies.¡± She sighs. ¡°Please, don¡¯t nitpick over this. I¡¯m fine. We¡¯re all fine. And thanks to the two of you, we¡¯re going to stay that way.¡±

    She finally smiles. ¡°Reapers are cowards at heart. Repelling their ambush scares them. Bringing down the goliath? That¡¯ll terrify them. Even better, without the benefits it provides, that huge group will fracture.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be frantic and desperate. Most of our work will be done for us once they start fighting over the meat from the titan. Thank the saints I don¡¯t have to deal with another night of this. I need¡­¡± She trails off before calling out to a knight from the Moons. I shake my head as she hobbles over to him.

    Kierra lets out a sigh. ¡°I suppose that is all for tonight.¡±

    ¡°Alana would appreciate your help with the injured.¡±

    ¡°My love. I just fought through an army, no matter that they were pests, climbed through the trunk of a massive beast, and crawled through its insides until it died.¡± Ugh. Is that why she¡¯s covered in that mess? ¡°I am strong but that was a lot of tough muscle to rip through. Also far too much blood to drown in. It consumed enough mana that I am¡­feeling it.¡± She rolls her shoulders. ¡°I would rather not put myself in a vulnerable position healing people who are not dying. They will be fine.¡±

    When she puts it like that¡­I would rather she didn¡¯t as well. I hope these people can sleep it off.

    Alana finishes her conversation with the knight and he jogs off. She makes her way back to us, smiling broadly. ¡°Can¡¯t believe we brought down a goliath. You know even the Duelists struggle to bring them down? It¡¯s impossible to conserve strength when hundreds or thousands of enemies are bearing down on you. Especially when we¡¯re so outnumbered. If you weren¡¯t here, this would have been a slog over days. Maybe weeks. There definitely would have been more casualties.¡±

    ¡°What happens now?¡±

    ¡°Now? We¡¯ll spend a day or two here. We have to gather our kills, bury the dead, and carve into that goliath. There¡¯re far too many resources to leave them. Hopefully, we can salvage everything before another titan arrives. After that? We keep going. I don¡¯t think we¡¯re anywhere close to our limits for this campaign.¡±

    Really? The first enemy we ran into was almost too much. I¡¯m ready to go home right now, forget the rest. ¡°Be honest, Alana. What level of threat was what we just faced?¡±

    ¡°This close to the mountains? Practically impossible odds.¡±

    ¡°In all the north.¡±

    She grimaces. ¡°A little lower than average. But that¡¯s only because the worse the north has to offer includes frost wyverns whose cold breath can freeze a knight solid, armor or not. Compared to a cloud of wyverns, a single goliath is nothing.¡±

    ¡°You really think we haven¡¯t reached our limits for the campaign?¡± What are these limits she¡¯s imagining? Or maybe the better question is, how many people need to die before she accepts those limits?

    ¡°I don¡¯t. But¡­¡± She places a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°Fine. You know nothing here can hurt me.¡±

    The hand pulls incessantly until I¡¯m close enough for Alana to pull me into a one-armed hug. ¡°Sorry,¡± she whispers. ¡°Was it scary?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t scared!¡± I hiss. Really, I¡¯m the daughter of a god. How could a few dogs and¡­whatever the goliath is scare me? ¡°This place is just an incredible pain in the backside and I¡¯ll be happy to put it behind me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make you a deal. One more week of marching then we turn around. No matter what we find.¡±

    One week. That¡¯s not even a month. The campaign lasts for three, the armies turning around during the first week of spring at the earliest. ¡°Isn¡¯t that too early?¡±

    ¡°One week of marching. That doesn¡¯t include time we get bogged down fighting and looting.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Closer to what I expect.

    ¡°One week then we turn back. A few more days at home to process our kills and then we can leave Victory if you want.¡±

    ¡°That sounds amazing right now,¡± I grumble.

    Her hand moves upward, tracing the back of my neck. ¡°I want you to know I appreciate everything you¡¯re doing. It¡¯s never easy doing the dangerous jobs. I have to rely on you now but one day, I¡¯ll be the one slaying goliaths while you wait at camp.¡±

    ¡°I think I like things as they are.¡± I shiver at the thought of her being frozen in place while a reaper tries to scoop out her eyes. ¡°What I want right now is our bedrolls.¡± This body has incredible stamina but I¡¯m mentally exhausted. Especially knowing there¡¯s going to be more work tomorrow.

 ARC 6-Winter War-115-Interlude (Arthur)

    Arthur decided he hated the north.

    Truthfully, he had decided so long ago, when he first reached the fort with the hunters he had infiltrated. Any sane person would have concluded the same. While the dreary sky could be excused, it even reminded him of home, there were too many other things to find fault with.

    Foremost, the cold. Oh, how he hated the cold. There was no escaping from it. It didn¡¯t matter if he wore a cloak, draped himself in furs, wrapped his hands, and stuffed his boots, the cold still managed to cut right to his bones. The slowly falling snow was deceptive. It was easy to ignore, even scenic, but it quickly dusted anything left outside. It didn¡¯t obstruct him, but watching a layer of snow fall from his arm or shoulders whenever he moved was a little annoyance that worked to undermine his already foul mood, growing to be a bigger bother every time he recognized it.

    Compounding the gloomy weather were the gloomy people. Arthur was used to not being welcomed. Graywatch was not a loving community. It was more so a collective of small social circles that constantly clashed except for when circumstances forced them to overlap. People didn¡¯t trust those who didn¡¯t belong to their families or their crews. Walking into the wrong alley could be the last mistake of a young pirate¡¯s life.

    Despite that, it wasn¡¯t a cold practice. Arthur had to live under constant threat at home but he didn¡¯t despise his would-be attackers and knew they didn¡¯t despise him. He understood that he was just the same as his attacker or his victim. They shared the same values, love of gold, love of women, and a tendency to stupidity after a night of drinking. The same could be said for strangers. Arthur had never been bothered by the thought of going off to the Hall because, although the place was different, people remained the same.

    The people of Victory were not the same. They were strange and cold. Their rejection was not the wariness of pirates, who knew the man they were drinking with would have no problem stabbing them for their wallet. It was blanket disapproval of a group forced to tolerate their inferiors.

    Arthur could say for certain that the people of Victory shared no values with anyone. They traded gold, women, and free drinking for steel, blood, and more blood. They didn¡¯t even worship the saints, replacing the faith of the kingdom with admiration of their insane ancestors and a seemingly unshakable loyalty to the James family.

    He could tolerate both those things if not for his last and biggest grievance with the north. That was the lack of entertainment.

    Arthur was appalled that there was nothing else to do in Victory besides fight. Not for outsiders. They didn¡¯t have taverns, whorehouses, or gambling dens. No dog fights or races. Oh, those things existed. Strange as they were, northerners were still human and had human vices. However, those vices were managed by their orders, along with their training. Nothing was made available for outsiders.

    It all made the campaign that much more unbearable. With each passing day, he grew more miserable and he wasn¡¯t the only one. The knights seemed fine, even lively, but the hunters were dragging themselves through the snow. The acolytes were worse, practically dead men walking. On top of everything else, they had to deal with mana strain.

    Their fearless commander, the soon to be great Alana James, had little use for them but she put them to work where she could. The day after they left the remains of the titan, they were set upon by a bleak moon bear. A pillar of white fur and muscle three times the size of their tallest man. And for some reason, it had a flower growing on top of its head.

    The reason it was named after the most prominent order of knights in the north was because they served as a test. Taking down one of the bears, and other creatures given the bleak moon designation, was how trainees became official knights.

    A threat that one of the knights were able to handle was given to all fifteen attending acolytes to handle. They barely managed to bring the thing down, as it kept coming no matter how many spells they pelted it with. He doubted the poor bastards would have survived at all without the future hero.

    He¡¯d made a terrible impression at the qualifiers but Robert Quintana was undoubtedly skilled. Or at least, he wasn¡¯t as bad as the rest. If he hadn¡¯t kept his nerve and kept the bear contained, the acolytes would have received worse than a few minor wounds.

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    If that wasn¡¯t enough, the following day, they almost tripped over a pack of slothpaws, small monsters that slept beneath heavy layers of snow. They could hibernate for months, even years, until moving prey awakened them, according to a chatty knight around dinner. Then the entire swarm, which could grow to over a thousand, all awoke and followed their namesake.

    Thankfully, it took the passing of large prey to disturb them. The movements of an army qualified but a scout could pass unharmed. Normally irrelevant, as a slumbering slothpaw was undetectable to even the north¡¯s best scouts, but that did not apply to the elf. She had come jogging back and alerted them well before they walked into the threat.

    That took the danger out of the encounter. The creatures were great ambush predators and walking into the midst of a swarm was a death sentence but the monsters were relatively weak, compared to the other creatures in the north. A good stab to the heart or head ended them swiftly and they weren¡¯t sturdy. With Kierra able to point them out, killing the swarm was as simple as stabbing a spear into the ground. Grunt work that was happily pushed onto the acolytes and hunters. Including Arthur.

    Despite willingly becoming Lou¡¯s lackey, he hadn¡¯t seen many benefits. The opposite even. His life had become infinitely harder since he made himself available to the noblewoman¡¯s whims. Not to mention he would eventually have to deal with his father¡¯s ire for refusing his orders. He wasn¡¯t as free as he made himself seem.

    If it were the old Arthur, he would have turned around at the fort¡¯s gates rather than deal with something so troublesome. Or he would have tried his luck with one of the lady knights and gotten his head removed. However, he was a changed man after his¡­experience with the succubus. He had learned the value of patience. More importantly, he had learned the value of a good opportunity. And being connected to Lourianne Tome was the best opportunity.

    So, despite being exhausted to his bones and utterly miserable, he didn¡¯t let out a word of complaint as he sat amongst the other hunters with his food, seated in the snow near the large fire in the middle of the camp.

    He scarfed down the soup and bread, nearly choking himself in his haste to swallow. His hurry was because the fire would be left to burn out once the last bowl was served. He wanted to be firmly tucked in his bedroll by then. They were also given a finger of the liquor that warmed him from head to toe. It left him nice and comfortable before bed. He didn¡¯t want to have to waste it because he stalled at dinner.

    He didn¡¯t pause when a weary Robert dropped beside him, eating his own food with far less enthusiasm. Only after he finished dinner did he turn to the dispirited young man. ¡°You better hurry up. The line is ten men deep so that fire¡¯s going to be gone in minutes.¡±

    After giving the pirate-son a side-eye, he sped up his chewing. ¡°I think I understand now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? What do you understand?¡±

    Robert grabbed the small wooden cup that contained his drink and downed it, grimacing at the strength as it burned its way to his gut. ¡°I understand Lourianne. Why people tolerate her and why she¡¯s so successful.¡±

    ¡°Oh? And what did you realize?¡±

    He gulped down the rest of his soup before viciously biting into his bread. ¡°People like her¡­they¡¯re necessary. Her strength is necessary. If things like these monsters ever make it to the kingdom¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Nobles are taught to value strength and status more than anything. I thought it was all excuses but if our predecessors had to face creatures like we¡¯ve been facing, then I¡­I understand.¡±

    ¡°Took you long enough to see which way the wind blows.¡±

    ¡°Lourianne is a problem¡ª"

    ¡°Because you keep making her one.¡±

    ¡°¡ªbut there are far worse problems. And if she can keep them back, then¡­then she needs to be tolerated.¡± His eyes hardened. ¡°At least until I¡¯m strong enough to handle them myself.¡±

    Arthur chuckled. ¡°Do you think you can single-handedly handle all the terrible things in the world? You¡¯re a bigger idiot than I thought.¡±

    ¡°I can do it. No, I¡¯m the only one who can do it.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, an idiot. You¡¯re not the only talented person in the world.¡±

    Robert huffed. ¡°I¡¯m the only one in known history born with four affinities. There¡¯s only been one recorded instance of anyone born with three affinities since the founding of the kingdom. My destiny is obvious.¡±

    ¡°Talent doesn¡¯t equal importance. You know how many talented people I¡¯ve watched the sea swallow?¡± Arthur scoffed. ¡°Let me educate you, boy. Talent means nothing. You want to know what makes legends? Luck.¡±

    ¡°Luck?¡± Robert echoed in disbelief.

    ¡°Yeah, luck. A lucky hit on an impossibly strong monster. A lucky encounter. A lucky coincidence. At the end of the day, we¡¯re all human.¡± Except for Lou. He seriously doubted her remaining humanity. ¡°King, noble, pirate, or beggar, we¡¯re all at the mercy of the storms. The ones who survive aren¡¯t the strong, or the clever, or the just.¡± He added the last with a pointed look.

    ¡°It¡¯s the lucky ones. They live, they find and hatch wyvern eggs, they meet the beautiful women with fortunes who are willing to spend it all on lost causes. And you, Robert, are not lucky. You may be the unluckiest bastard in Harvest. Which means, if you want to live long enough to be the hero you think you are, then you need to be a little more cautious. And maybe learn to kiss a little ass.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-116

    ¡°Last day,¡± I mutter to Alana over breakfast. When Kierra and I brought the goliath down, my wife-to-be promised that we would only march for another week. What that actually translated to, accounting for breaks to fight monsters, dismantle said monsters, and to give the weaker members of the army a break, was three weeks. Three whole weeks.

    Really, this place is just one thing after the other. First it was the goliath and the reapers. Then there were the bears. Turns out those are pretty common. Pests of the north. Not as common as rats in the slums. Closer to the population of stray cats, which is plenty.

    Loved the sleeping horror apes. Apparently, they can wipe out entire armies if they¡¯re caught unprepared. Thankfully, Kierra is good at her job. Better than good. Incredibly miraculous is a better description. When the slothpaws are sleeping, they don¡¯t breathe. Their hearts don¡¯t beat. They give off no heat. They¡¯re considered undetectable until they start emerging.

    The usual way the armies handle things is to simply cut the creatures down, as they¡¯re not that strong. A valid strategy when there aren¡¯t too many. The swarm we found was one of the smaller ones, numbering around two hundred. Nowhere close to a threat for a regular army. Deadly to our group if they hadn¡¯t been noticed.

    I asked her how she did it but she won¡¯t tell me. Wants me to figure it out for myself. Says I am completely capable of doing the same to narrow down the options. If I weren¡¯t the daughter of a god, I¡¯d think she was overestimating me.

    The worst thing was the storm. It came out of nowhere and lasted for days. The snow fell and the wind howled relentlessly. After the first several hours, Alana ordered the casters to raise stone and ice structures as the tents would be buried. I was forced to distribute my shroom juice as the low temperature dropped further, threatening to kill people in the night if we didn¡¯t keep them warm.

    Alana didn¡¯t need it, heh.

    But all those challenges are behind us. Today¡¯s the last day. Camp is being broken down and wagons loaded. We¡¯ll walk until the sky begins to darken, hopefully without encountering anything worse than knee-deep snow. Then, tomorrow morning, we turn around and hustle back to Victory.

    I can¡¯t deny I¡¯m excited.

    Alana feels the same, despite trying to keep a neutral face while drinking that disgusting bitter drink. She¡¯s been in a good mood since the storm broke last night. Apparently, there are monsters that only attack during storms and they are just as troublesome as titans. So far, we¡¯ve made it through this terrible journey with no casualties. The people of the north are more than willing to give their lives for the war effort but she is happy to preserve lives where she can.

    ¡°It¡¯s not over until we¡¯re home,¡± Alana reminds me, not for the first time.

    ¡°But the hard part is over. We already fought our way here. It¡¯s just a march back.¡±

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    She laughs. Oh, saints. That¡¯s her mocking laugh. ¡°As if the north is so simple. I promise you, our path home is already populated with enemies.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the storms. Monsters run from them, run through them, and chase after them. It¡¯s sure to have put a couple fateful encounters in our path.¡± One of her hands brushes my cheek as I sigh. ¡°Little ones. The winds would have carried the scent of the goliath and brought scavengers.¡±

    ¡°When I think scavengers, I think pesky bugs and disgusting rodents. What do you think of?¡±

    She smiles faintly. ¡°The same.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful.¡±

    She chuckles as she sips her drink. ¡°I¡¯m more concerned with what happens when we return.¡±

    ¡°We get showered with praise then leave for some place warm?¡± I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d be more complicated than that. I hope it¡¯s not.

    ¡°Have you forgotten the March?¡± She frowns, likely recalling our first true fight. I rub her back until it eases and she shoots me a grateful look. ¡°It may seem like a silly tradition to you but this is a real thing with real consequences. Three guilds owe us all that they are. We have tocollect.¡±

    I wince. When I first heard that, all I heard was the tinkling of gold crowns hitting each other as they rain on top of us. With a little time to think on it, I realize this may not be the easy money I think it is. The recent challenges have reminded me of something I¡¯d forgotten. I¡¯m not invincible, yet. The vast majority of the threats in the kingdom might mean nothing to me, but that still means there is a small minority that do.

    The March means we¡¯re entitled to all the possessions of the Shadow Wolves, the Torchbearers, and One For All. One of those guilds is the largest guild in Quest. They are not going to be happy handing over all their possessions. We undoubtedly will have to take it by force. That means being responsible for the first war in the history of the kingdom. A thought that was vaguely amusing when I first had it, as I have trouble imagining the soft nobles that run this kingdom waging a real war, but has become a lot more terrifying now.

    From her hard tone, I think Alana can sense my reluctance. She certainly doesn¡¯t have any, or if she does, she is doing a much better job of hiding it. ¡°We have to, Lou. This isn¡¯t just about us. It¡¯s about all of Victory.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°I don¡¯t know what my father¡¯s thinking but his orders are absolute. We could do nothing and Victory would still enforce the tradition. The only way to mitigate damage is to hold the sword.

    ¡°If we want to control the sword, preparations have to be made. We need to send out invitations to the soldiers we want to march with us. Unless you want my father to send whoever he likes, like he¡¯s done this time.¡±

    ¡°Mm, no.¡± Our army is functioning but it¡¯s hardly a cohesive force. Thank the saints the knights are professionals. They don¡¯t seem to get along, or even communicate outside their orders, but they manage to work together without issue.

    ¡°There is also the matter of diplomacy. There is a chance to settle this without violence but not if someone from Victory does the talking.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s worth a little preparation.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Lou. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°This is my mess as much as yours.¡± Though I do kind of blame her for getting us into this. Just a little. I also didn¡¯t look too closely at the situation so it¡¯s my fault too. ¡°We¡¯ll handle it together.¡±

    ¡°¡­keeping an eye on me?¡±

    ¡°No. No!¡± I turn her to face me, grabbing her chin until her blue eyes meet my own. ¡°I trust you. This is not me keeping an eye on you, this is me being supportive.¡±

    She holds my stare for a long moment before pulling away with a nod. ¡°Let¡¯s get these people moving. We aren¡¯t going to be slow footing it just because it¡¯s the last day.¡±

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-117

    I should have known it wouldn¡¯t be that easy.

    The army is as dour as usual, not being privy to Alana¡¯s plans. Her reasoning is she doesn¡¯t want anyone becoming lax with the end of our journey approaching. I think it¡¯s an unnecessary worry. This place is too harrowing to underestimate for a moment. Despite the bone-deep exhaustion showing on some of the faces as we march through the especially deep snow, none of them would ever dream of underestimating the north.

    Despite being privy to the end, I¡¯m not in a great mood either. My steps are a little lighter, knowing this is the last day we venture further into this monster-infested wasteland, but I¡¯m weighed down by what¡¯s happened so far. Particularly, the unexpected difficulty of this campaign.

    I thought it would be easy. In one aspect, it is. My ability to survive is unquestioned. I could have sprinted away from all the creatures we encountered. Except for the reapers, but their little scythes are ineffective anyway.

    What has been brought into question is my effectiveness. My ability to bring down the biggest threats in the kingdom. The first titan was bigger and stronger than me. Worse, its magic could affect my base form and I have no idea why. Worse, Geneva has no idea why. Theories aplenty but nothing that can be proven without facing titan magic once again.

    In the face of the goliath, I had no idea how to bring it down. I would have never thought to climb inside the thing¡¯s nose, like my crazy wife, and rip it apart from the inside. Even now, knowing it might be the only effective method, I don¡¯t think I could do the same. I¡¯ve never considered myself squeamish in the face of gore or death but swimming through a creature¡¯s guts is too much.

    The other threats weren¡¯t too much for me to handle but they certainly would have been a challenge to defend the others against. It¡¯s all a bit ridiculous. Given my physiology and affinities, there should be nothing beyond my abilities. Well, not nothing, but so little I shouldn¡¯t be running into so many problems.

    It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s bringing back bad memories. I¡¯ve been useless for a long time. After being reborn, I¡¯ve yet to feel that. Hopeless, sure. Silly, a few times. Never useless.

    It¡¯s been a while since someone¡¯s looked at me like I¡¯m useless too. Rather, the looks I¡¯ve been giving are the exact opposite. I never thought too much about it but maybe it¡¯s been affecting me more than I thought. It¡¯s disgusting to think about, but I¡¯m no different from the nobles I used to despise. It took no time at all for the power to go to my head.

    I¡¯ve been stalling with my training because I thought I had all the time in the world. I still do. All the things that have given me trouble are trapped in the north. As long as we don¡¯t poke the beehive by investigating the Lords of Winter or putting up any structures past the Peaks, the titans stay where they are.

    The knights¡­we may stir up a little chaos once we march them into Quest to confront the guilds but afterwards, they¡¯ll be back in their fort and throwing themselves against impossible odds. Everything will be as it¡¯s always been and I can pretend to be invincible.

    That¡¯s the problem. I¡¯d be pretending because I know different. And I hate it. I haven¡¯t been this sour since an ignorant summoner gutted me and left me to bleed out on a cold floor. However, unlike then, I have the power to do something about it. So, the only question is what I¡¯m going to do about it.

    Those thoughts run circles in my head throughout the day. A peaceful day. Nothing happens. Not even an accident, like a wheel spoke breaking or someone twisting an ankle. Camp is made as always and we settle on our bedrolls while Geneva feeds our soldiers. Except, despite saying nothing, the women I sleep with notice I am not in my usual mood.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Alana asks while wiping down her sword despite not having used it in several days. I think she does it when she¡¯s bored and there¡¯s plenty of boredom in the north. Most of the campaign is fighting to stay focused through hours of boredom. There isn¡¯t much else to do. Entertainment degrades focus, so anything fun is strictly prohibited. And it¡¯s too cold for most people to consider doing anything but burrowing in their bedrolls.

    ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too easy to read, Lou.¡±

    Kierra hums in agreement while lounging on her stomach, playing with a limp Bell.

    ¡°Okay, tell me honestly. What exactly is giving me away? I have a good stoic face.¡± One my father paid tutors a lot of gold to develop. I refuse to believe that all those lessons were in vain.

    ¡°Your feet, dedia.¡±

    ¡°Your feet.¡±

    Huh?

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    Alana chuckles. ¡°You¡¯re so focused on controlling your face but never the rest of your body. Your feet are always a giveaway but sometimes, your shoulders and hands give you away too.¡±

    ¡°It is simple to divine your moods,¡± Kierra continues, driving the nail Alana pushed into my heart deeper. ¡°From there, it is easy to guess your thoughts.¡±

    ¡°And something¡¯s obviously bothering you. You going to tell us?¡±

    I sigh. ¡°It¡¯s nothing serious. Just feeling¡­a little¡­¡±

    Alana looks up. ¡°A little what?¡±

    ¡°¡­small?¡± Too hard to say weak and a bit stupid.

    ¡°¡­this isn¡¯t a joke.¡± Alana¡¯s voice is heavy with disbelief.

    Bell lets out a squeak as Kierra throws the imp into the air, catching her and throwing her back up like she¡¯s a living ball. ¡°I think our conqueror is doubting herself after encountering a real challenge.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not doubting myself,¡± I grumble.

    ¡°Good. Because that would be ridiculous. No one has an easy time against titans.¡±

    ¡°There is an entire order that specializes in raising knights who go against titans.¡±

    ¡°Knights who have to exhaust every bit of their mana to bring them down and it takes the cooperation of several other knights to restrain the titan and identify its weakness. For creatures like the goliath, that don¡¯t have any weaknesses and do have incredibly durable bodies, it may take two or three knights.¡±

    ¡°Okay, fine. But if anyone should be able to bring a titan down alone, it¡¯s me.¡±

    Bells spins as Kierra tosses her with more force and a twist of her wrist. ¡°Are you regretting your lax training, my love?¡±

    ¡°Is that what this is about? It is.¡±

    I look down at my feet. What are they seeing?

    ¡°It was your hands that time.¡± Alana chuckles as she puts her sword away. ¡°Good. It¡¯s about time you started taking things a little more seriously.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    Alana averts her eyes and grunts. ¡°Lou, you¡¯re wonderful.¡±

    Oh saints. She never compliments me. Or at least, not this directly. I have a bad feeling.

    ¡°But sometimes, you can be incredibly frustrating.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Anytime I watch you break rocks because you¡¯re bored or walk around in the freezing weather in a thin shirt while the rest of us are fighting off blue fingers, knowing that you don¡¯t have to do anything to maintain that strength while I and everyone whose strength I¡¯ve ever admired have trained till we collapsed¡­¡± She sighs. ¡°Yeah. A bit frustrating.¡±

    I feel a little guilty and a little insulted. Do I apologize or defend myself?

    ¡°Especially knowing that you could be a dragon if you applied yourself. I know you¡¯ll get there eventually¡ª"

    ¡°Oh, really?¡±

    She rolls her eyes at my tone. First time I¡¯ve seen her do that. The immature gesture from someone normally so mature is a little cute. ¡°Yes, because of the face you¡¯re making right now. Your ego wouldn¡¯t allow you to ignore your talent for long.¡±

    ¡°Or your wife,¡± Kierra adds while folding Bell into strange shapes. ¡°I am surprised, Alana. Her slothful nature makes your goal easier, does it not?¡±

    ¡°My goal doesn¡¯t change no matter how strong she is.¡±

    ¡°What goal?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± She clears her throat. ¡°I thought Robert would be the one who sparked your growth. And don¡¯t pretend you don¡¯t know who that is.¡±

    ¡°I know who that buffoon is.¡± I should check in on Arthur¡¯s progress with that idiot. ¡°Why would he spark anything but annoyance in me?¡±

    ¡°He has four affinities. And yes, he¡¯s a bit full of himself now but he at least has a goal driving him. In five or ten years, he¡¯ll be the next Dunwayne, for better or worse. Twenty years? With access to a good melder? He¡¯ll be as much of a monster as you are now, I think. And knowing you, having him be on the same level as you would be intolerable.¡±

    She has a point. That¡¯d be completely intolerable.

    ¡°Either that or he tries to destroy you socially and you retaliate by utterly destroying his ego built around being the most talented human in history by showing off your own talent.¡±

    Also a plausible scenario. Still upset she apparently thinks better of the wannabe hero than me. At least when it comes to¡­work ethic? Studiousness? Her thinking he¡¯s better than me in any way is annoying.

    ¡°I thought my father would be the one to spark her growth.¡±

    We both turn to the elf at that concerning statement. She smiles, showing an unsettling amount of teeth. ¡°My father is uncommonly protective of me, his only child. He challenged my mother after my punishment was delivered.¡±

    ¡°Punishment? What punishment?¡±

    I wince. ¡°Oh. We never did tell you how we met.¡±

    ¡°She helped you out of the Enchanted Forest, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m talking about the circumstances behind that meeting. It¡¯s nothing important.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I was simply trapped in a spatial prison by my mother for twenty years. Hardly a matter of any consequence.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The important part is¡­¡± I say quickly, gesturing for Kierra to continue.

    ¡°After losing, my father went on a journey to grow stronger. It is only a matter of time until he returns and learns that I have married. He will undoubtedly be interested in my partner.¡± She chuckles. ¡°By that, I mean he will likely try to kill you to convince me to return to the Dusk province.¡±

    Sigh. ¡°Have I mentioned I love your family?¡±

    ¡°Just wait until you meet my siblings.¡±

    ¡°Wait. Are you telling me her father¡ª" She points at Kierra. ¡°Is eventually going to hunt you down and kill you?¡±

    ¡°Apparently.¡±

    ¡°Her father will try to murder you one day and you¡¯re not concerned about it? Is he weak?¡± Her voice says she doesn¡¯t believe that for a moment.

    ¡°We share a physical affinity. It is not pure but he is over four centuries old and is considered by many to be the best martial fighter in Dusk. Unlike many physical casters, he put aside the more popular disciplines of healing, melding, and shapeshifting to focus solely on physical enhancement. He is a master at using explosive bursts of speed and power to overwhelm opponents.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful,¡± Alana says.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me the woman who fearlessly marches against titan¡¯s is scared of one elf.¡±

    ¡°One elf? It¡¯s Kierra¡¯s father. No, I¡¯m not thinking about this. Is dinner ready? I¡¯m starving.¡±

    ¡°Let me¡ª"

    My words are interrupted by Bell¡¯s sudden hiss. Kierra is the first to react, sitting up and launching the imp toward the opening of the shelter with the speed of a striking snake. I hear a muttered curse as I turn around and see a dark shape go down. A person. A person who managed to sneak into our shelter despite myself, Kierra, and Bell being present.

    A moment before my wife leaps at the intruder to tear them apart, Alana stops us with a gasped, ¡°Khan?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-118

    The traditions of the north are brutal. Men and women alike train for years to throw their lives away in an endless war against the never-ending hordes of the Lords. Their children and their children¡¯s children follow in their footsteps without question. If I had to guess, all the bodies dropped in the north could reach the height of the Peaks.

    The James are not exempt from the harsh practices of the fort. Unlike most nobles, they get their hands dirty. And bloody. Alana¡¯s family has suffered as many, if not more, casualties, as all the families they govern. The current duke has had eight children between two wives and one wartime fling. Half of them have died on the uncompromising battlefield beyond their territory. Three of them were Kalise¡¯s sons. Her only remaining child is her youngest, Khan.

    From what Alana says, Khan is very different from his brothers. Where they were the usual bloodthirsty warriors Victory produces en masse, Khan is very much not a fighter. He prefers to avoid violence entirely. In the north, such an attitude is considered cowardly and can get a man disowned or worse. It¡¯s especially terrible in prominent families and he is from the most prominent family of all.

    Kalise¡¯s youngest son was saved by his unusual talents. The saints must have recognized the desire of his spirit and gifted him skills to avoid the violence that plagues his home. He is adept at going unnoticed, even amongst monsters, making him the most talented scout in Victory.

    He also has a gift for cartography. He is the only one with the ability to map the north and that is an invaluable skill, coward or not. His reputation is a mix of fame and infamy. While his standing in the north can be called into question, what is indisputable is he is one of the most important individuals in the north.

    Such an individual is lying on the ground a few steps away from me, pinned to the ground with an imp on his back. I can¡¯t see much of him beneath his dark hood, but he has his mother¡¯s bronze skin. Not her height. He¡¯s rather¡­diminutive. Something that might be helping with all his sneaking.

    ¡°Bell, let him up.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± I ask. ¡°He did sneak in.¡± And so far, her siblings haven¡¯t had the best intentions toward her. Or at the very least, they¡¯ve had questionable motives. There¡¯s no reason to believe this Khan will be any different.

    ¡°Khan isn¡¯t a fighter. It¡¯s impressive that he got this close without being noticed but he¡¯s pretty useless once he¡¯s discovered.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sister,¡± a quiet voice grumbles.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, brother,¡± she returns sarcastically. ¡°I think you look much better with your head attached to your body.¡±

    ¡°While hurtful, Alana¡¯s words are correct. I am little threat as an adversary. Please tell the creature on top of me and the green woman to stop releasing such potent killing intent. It makes me¡­nauseous.¡±

    Seriously?

    I look to Alana and she shrugs. ¡°I never heard about mean looks making him sick but it wouldn¡¯t surprise me. More importantly, I really want to know why my brother who is more elusive than a clear sky sought me out in the middle of the campaign.¡±

    ¡°It is rather important,¡± he mutters.

    ¡°¡­fine. Let him up.¡±

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    Bell slips from his back but doesn¡¯t move away, four eyes narrowed as she watches our unexpected guest. Kierra is also watching him intently, though some of the aggressiveness has drained from her posture.

    Despite the rapidly deescalating air, Khan takes no chances. He moves with exaggerated care as he gets on his fours and scrambles back till his heels hits one of the walls of our shelter. Then he puts his back to it and places his hands on the ground, palms up. He¡¯s going to great lengths to appear harmless.

    ¡°It is rude to enter another¡¯s home with your face covered,¡± Kierra says.

    For the first time, Khan hesitates. The suggestion clearly makes him uncomfortable. However, Kierra¡¯s displeasure is more uncomfortable and he pulls back his hood.

    I blink. Given his mother¡¯s more¡­striking looks and his father¡¯s very square features, that is not the face I was expecting. If I had to pick a family member he resembles most, I would go with Yulianna. His soft chin and big round eyes can be called boyish at best. His scraggly beard is entirely unsuited to his face. The same for the wild, curly brown hair falling into his face.

    He does have the James family stoicism. His thin lips are pressed in a stern frown as he watches us with a placid gaze. ¡°Forgive me for the interruption. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Khan Soft-Thunder James. I¡ª"

    ¡°Soft-Thunder?¡± I interrupt.

    ¡°Blame my mother. She wanted to give me a powerful name but I apparently cried so softly, she would have felt ridiculous naming me just Thunder. Hence, Soft-Thunder.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­huh.¡± Sounds like that woman. ¡°I suppose we should introduce ourselves.¡±

    ¡°No need. You are Lourianne Tome, Kierra D¡¯Atainna, and Belolial,¡± he says nonchalantly, pointing us out in turn.

    [Hm? What has you so tense, my summoner?] Geneva, still wandering about the camp, whispers into my mind. [I see. How interesting.]

    Interesting? Try unsettling. ¡°How do you know our names?¡±

    ¡°Someone told them to me. They also sent me to find you.¡±

    ¡°This is not the time for games,¡± Alana snaps. ¡°I think well of you, Khan. That¡¯s why we¡¯re talking casually and all your limbs are intact. Yank me about like our siblings and I¡¯ll treat you like I treat them.¡±

    He sighs. ¡°That would be a tragedy. I did not come here to be an enemy, Alana.¡±

    ¡°Then explain yourself. Quickly and clearly. Starting with who sent you here.¡±

    ¡°I will explain myself clearly but it may not be quickly. There is quite a bit to discuss. And if I may, I would impose on you for a meal. I caught a whiff of what your army is being served. If you are remembered for nothing else sister, you will be known as the commander with the best marching grub.¡±

    ¡°Truly, a remarkable feat. I can go to my grave in peace.¡±

    ¡°Pet, go and get us all something to eat,¡± Kierra says. ¡°Go on. I am enough to contain the soft shadow.¡±

    With a look at me to confirm, Bell scampers out of the shelter to retrieve dinner. Khan relaxes at her departure. She really does make him nervous. Which is strange because the entire point of the virtue masquerading as an imp is to make people underestimate her. Khan sees right through her disguise. That means he knows more about us than our names, which makes this encounter several times stranger.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare say you¡¯re not talking until you eat,¡± Alana practically growls.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t try your patience that far sister.¡± I am struggling to see how Kalise raised this polite man. ¡°For this to make sense, I need to start at the beginning.¡± He sighs heavily. ¡°My aversion to¡­our culture is well-known. Victory is not the place for someone of my temperament. But, I am still a James. I didn¡¯t want to walk away from the war a coward. Not to mention if I did, Mammy would hunt me down and chop off my man parts.¡±

    ¡°Mammy?¡± I chuckle.

    ¡°She is a lovely woman after a little bloodshed.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like my wife.¡±

    I get my first smile from Khan, the corner of his lips turning up a fraction. I find myself returning it and relaxing. It¡¯s hard to stay on guard against someone trying very hard to not appear threatening.

    ¡°Hey,¡± my impatient future saint barks, glaring at both of us. His presence is really unnerving her. Which, fair, is unsurprising, given every member of her family makes her nervous.

    ¡°Yes. To avoid spending my life fighting an endless horde of monsters, I decided to use my strengths to contribute to the cause. I ventured into the north by myself, intent on mapping the whole of it. I especially wanted to find the Lords of Winter. After all, the Lords are the commanders. If they die, the war ends. And through the guidance of the ancestors, I found them. Or, it is more accurate to say they found me.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-119

    ¡°Rolly, make sure nothing leaves these walls,¡± Alana snaps.

    My colorful helper snaps into existence over my head. I watch Khan carefully. Though his eyes move to the lueorale, he isn¡¯t surprised. Something else he knew? By the saints, where is he getting his information?

    ¡°No worries, my heroine. I can read a scene. This is where your mysterious brother reveals a conspiracy with the fate of the world at stake.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°Forgive her, she loves being dramatic.¡±

    ¡°No, your friend is quite right.¡±

    Eh?

    ¡°Eh?¡± I say dumbly.

    The moment is interrupted by the return of Bell who enters the shelter carrying five plates, having grown two extra arms and balancing the last on the end of her tail. Our little server hands them out before settling in front of Khan. Still untrusting. Or maybe she¡¯s reacting to my tension.

    Alana ignores her food, which is a testament to how serious she is. ¡°This better not be a joke.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have much humor.¡± He swallows a spoonful of soup and his face lights up. Heh. Not even his strange knowledge couldn¡¯t prepare him for Geneva¡¯s cooking.

    ¡°Talk or I take it away,¡± Alana snaps.

    ¡°Ah.¡± Khan freezes, lowering the spoon he was raising. ¡°I seem to have caused some distress. While the situation is quite serious, it isn¡¯t dire. There is no risk of immediate consequence. Me appearing before you now has already prevented the worst potential future.¡±

    Oh no. Oh, saints protect me. Please tell me I didn¡¯t hear what I think I heard. Because if I did¡ª

    ¡°To eliminate any confusion, let me clearly state that I was directed here by a seer.¡±

    ¡°OUT!¡± I yell. Bell leaps at Khan, knocking the bowl of soup from his hands as she grabs his cloak. He goes limp, playing dead as my imp prepares to drag him from the shelter. Hurry up, hurry up!

    ¡°Wait, Lou!¡±

    Alana grabs my arm but I shrug her off. He¡¯s talking about a seer. A saints-damned, Abyss-cursed, deadly as a plague, future-reading seer. My future brother Khan may be but I want nothing to do with whoever he¡¯s working for.

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    Alana¡¯s next attempt to grab my attention is more abrupt. As in, she tackles me to the ground. It¡¯s been a long, long time since Alana could do anything more than tap me unless I let her. I don¡¯t look it, but my prime form is rather heavy. It takes a lot to lay me flat, even when I¡¯m not expecting it. I¡¯m impressed. So impressed it startles me out of my panic.

    ¡°Calm down!¡± Alana snaps, lips pulled back in a snarl. The expression softens a moment later, as her hand pats my cheek. ¡°Please.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a seer, Alana.¡±

    ¡°I know. It¡¯ll be alright.¡±

    Her soft voice calms me down. I take deep breaths as I stare into her eyes, mustering all my will to slow my racing heart. Okay. I can handle this. Never mind that every tale involving a seer, every single one, has ended in massive tragedy. Kingdom-ending tragedy. And this bastard is dragging us into such a plot.

    Nope, not calming down.

    ¡°Coo?¡± [Master Lou, do I remove the boy?]

    ¡°Breathe, Lou.¡± Alana¡¯s hand sneaks into my hair as she whispers to me. ¡°Breathe. Breathe.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m breathing.¡± And against all odds, my heart slows and my panic recedes. Bell, leave him be.

    The imp lets out a disappointed coo as she releases Khan who lets out a soft breath of disbelief. He straightens and retakes his place against the wall. His eyes go to his spilled bowl of soup. ¡°A shame.¡±

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    ¡°Take mine.¡± Bell takes my untouched bowl to Khan, who smiles broadly. My arms loop around Alana¡¯s waist, pulling her tighter against me. ¡°And convince me not to throw you to the monsters.¡±

    He must sense that my patience is thinner than a hair as he talks quickly around his spoon. ¡°I am the only person who can move freely through the north. Because of that, they found me before I could cause irreparable damage by sharing things that are not meant to be shared.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t make us ask,¡± I snap.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to. The Lords of Winter found me, under the direction of their seer. Though they call themselves the estrazi. A loose translation is eternal guardians.¡±

    ¡°You must be pretty chummy with Victory¡¯s eternal enemies if they are giving you language lessons,¡± Alana grumbles with a glare.

    ¡°They are not our enemies. They are our guardians. Keeping us out of the north is for the good of every creature in the world. It is Victory¡¯s fault that this must be done with violence. The estrazi attempted peace first. It¡¯s unfortunate that they made contact with humanity on the eve of war. The general assigned the conquest of the north was not in the mood for negotiation.¡±

    ¡°Their seer couldn¡¯t tell them that was a bad idea?¡± I ask, trying to pretend having to say that word doesn¡¯t make me feel a little nauseous.

    ¡°Reading the flow of fate is not an exact practice or so I¡¯m told. There was a chance for peaceful negotiation, albeit slight, so they sent a messenger while preparing for war. I¡¯m told their messenger was mistaken as a monster. I am their second attempt to resolve a conflict peacefully.¡±

    He meets my eyes. ¡°If you leave in the morning, there is strong chance you will encounter a second storm by nightfall.¡±

    Alana scoffs. ¡°You want me to believe two storms will hit in the same place¡­¡± She stops, gasping as her eyes widen in surprise. ¡°A whisperer?¡± she hisses in obvious horror. One of my hands rubs the small of her back as she begins to shake.

    Khan nods gravely. ¡°Exactly. For those who do not know what we are talking about, the whisperer is the most feared monster in the north.¡±

    ¡°A monster has you spooked, little star?¡± Kierra chuckles, clearly amused. The mess with the goliath hasn¡¯t deterred her, unlike me. If it weren¡¯t so cold and desolate, she¡¯d have fallen in love with this place. As always, telling her there¡¯s a bigger challenge only serves to excite her.

    Alana shakes her head vigorously. ¡°A whisperer is not a monster. No one knows what it is because no one has ever seen it. Sometimes, two storms will pass by the same area within a short time. The whisperer always comes in the second storm.¡± She scowls. ¡°I nearly forgot about it because it¡¯s so rare. There have only been¡­damn it.¡±

    ¡°Twenty-one recorded instances in the whole history of Victory,¡± Khan answers when her memory fails her. ¡°It is not a threat that knights train for because it is not a threat they can train for. The whisperer does not fight. We don¡¯t know if it conjures storms or if they harness the storms they travel in but they have the power to scatter those in its path anywhere in the north.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t kill a single person,¡± Alana continues, ¡°but being dropped in a random place, separated from your army, either alone or with unintended companions, is a death sentence. Especially because being dropped too far north beyond any landmarks means there is no way to find your way back to Victory. Anyone who survives does so through pure luck.¡± She sighs. ¡°If what Khan says is true, my army would have been annihilated.¡±

    ¡°Your army, huh.¡±

    She glares at me. ¡°Yes, Lou. I know you¡¯d keep me alive even in the face of one of the worst threats in the north. Not the issue.¡±

    Heh.

    Khan finishes his soup with a noisy slurp. ¡°Yes, every member of your house survives, though one of your creatures is separated from you. Afterwards, you are dropped far to the north, deep in estrazi land.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why that is such a problem,¡± I say. I¡¯m not such a battle fiend that I¡¯d attack people willing to make peace. I also don¡¯t have the same biases as a Victory native.

    ¡°They are guardians.¡±

    ¡°Which implies something to guard,¡± Alana muses. ¡°Something they clearly do not want anyone, particularly Harvest, to know about.¡±

    ¡°Something you are unable to ignore,¡± Khan says, staring at me. ¡°Whether they try to deceive you, explain things to you, subdue you, or kill you, they are unable to prevent you from doing something that should not be done. It leads to¡­very bad consequences.¡±

    ¡°Stop being ridiculous.¡± Come on. I may not be the most responsible individual or even the most insightful but I¡¯d hardly do something that could endanger the kingdom, let alone the world.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the specifics. All I know is that, no matter the path the estrazi took, they could not keep you from making a regrettable choice. Therefore, it was decided the best option was to keep you from the north.¡±

    ¡°Did your seer not foresee this path leading to an encounter?¡± Kierra asks. ¡°This is not dissuading me. I am very much tempted to drag my Lou into the path of this whisperer to see what is so terrible it demands the involvement of a celestial.¡±

    ¡°You will not.¡±

    My elf doesn¡¯t like his certainty. She sneers at him with narrowed eyes. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t let you.¡± He nods his head toward Alana and me. ¡°My sister will not take such a risk without more information and I don¡¯t need a seer to tell me that her bannerwoman wants nothing to do with this.¡±

    It¡¯s true. The more I hear, the more I want to throw my future brother-in-law out of our shelter and forget about this entire conversation. He doesn¡¯t want us to march tomorrow? Great. We take a break for a day and get on with our lives, preferably without any further interference from anyone or anything with the celestial affinity.

    My wife must realize the same as she lets out a huff of disapproval before relaxing. ¡°You are annoying.¡±

    ¡°I apologize for making a nuisance of myself.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯re getting out of this that easily.¡± Alana climbs off me, slapping my hands lightly until I release her. Then she sits in front of her brother. ¡°You have a lot of questions to answer, brother.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-120

    ¡°There is only so much I can answer,¡± Khan says gravely. ¡°For your own safety.¡±

    Yeah, no.

    ¡°You are going to answer everything we ask as completely as possible,¡± I demand, a threat very much implied by my tone. Seers are so scary because of the knowledge they wield. There are only two ways anyone in the stories has managed to wriggle out of the schemes of a seer. They either had the luck of the saints or they had enough knowledge to see the trap before it caught them.

    Of course, there¡¯s always the chance that the seer behind Khan foresaw this exact moment long ago and has only given him enough information to advance their agenda. It sounds incredible but it¡¯s wholly possible and the kind of thinking one has to indulge if they want to survive the schemes of a seer. No, to have a chance of surviving. Saints, I should have thrown him out the moment he appeared. It¡¯s too late now. We¡¯re involved. The only thing we can do now is stay vigilant.

    Alana looks at me over her shoulder. I guess she can see the determination in my features as she doesn¡¯t comment on my aggression and turns back to her brother. ¡°Let¡¯s start with something simple. When did these, estrazi you called them? When did they first make contact with you?¡±

    Khan¡¯s brows furrow thoughtfully. ¡°Years now. It was my third solo journey past the Peaks. The second time I ventured past every established landmark.¡± His voice softens as his eyes move to the ground. ¡°I was too confident having made it back safely once and got turned around by a storm. They saved my life.¡±

    Is that reverence I hear in his tone? ¡°Funny how they chose to wait until you were completely helpless before making contact.¡± I gasp, putting a hand to my lips. ¡°You don¡¯t think they chose that moment on purpose because they wanted you indebted to them, do you?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± he returns, unfazed by my dramatics. ¡°I doubt I would be willing to speak with the enemies of my family in any other situation.¡±

    ¡°So you didn¡¯t find the timing the least bit suspicious?¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t make me walk into the storm.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? A seer would know when a storm¡¯s coming. They would know saving you will make you see them in a good light. They have control over the monsters in the north. Have you never thought that they strategically placed monsters on your path to force you into the storm so they could save you?¡±

    He frowns. ¡°A seer¡¯s magic doesn¡¯t work like that. They couldn¡¯t have tracked my location precisely enough to put monsters in my path.¡±

    ¡°I bet they told you that.¡±

    His frown deepens but Alana cuts him off before he can respond. ¡°You can discuss the particulars of seers later. Right now, I¡¯m the one questioning my brother¡¯s dubious allegiances. What did they want when they approached you?¡±

    ¡°They simply requested that I stop pushing north.¡±

    ¡°Please tell me why you accepted a request from Victory¡¯s enemies. If you say because they saved you, I will tell Bell to beat you senseless.¡±

    Khan lets out a little huff of a laugh. ¡°That would make it difficult to question me.¡±

    ¡°We have healers.¡±

    ¡°Surprised your seer friend didn¡¯t tell you that,¡± I grumble.

    ¡°As I said, their powers are not omnipotent.¡±

    ¡°Answer the question!¡± Alana snaps, shooting me a warning look.

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    Her brother turns back to her, perhaps a little sheepish. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Alana but I can¡¯t tell you. Beating or no beating.¡±

    She glares at him but he doesn¡¯t back down, holding her gaze for several tense moments. ¡°Bell.¡±

    Khan¡¯s eyes widen in surprise, mirroring my own, as Bell leaps at him. Before, he simply went limp in the face of her aggression. I suppose that must have been advice from his seer friend. He was confident that as long as he didn¡¯t fight back, he wouldn¡¯t be hurt. I couldn¡¯t imagine any other explanation. A man who ventures into the north by himself is certainly no coward, despite his apparent aversion to violence. He had the same confidence in his tone when he denied answering Alana¡¯s question.

    But it seems my future saint has defied the fate expected of her. Her brother must have seen something in her face when she called out to my imp as his hands instinctively rise to cover his face as he¡¯s knocked to the ground. A pointless gesture. That flimsy defense does nothing to shield him from the succubus tenderizing his body with tiny, adorable fists.

    The biggest hole new summoners fall into, those freshly introduced to the art, is the assumption that elementals have human values or worse, human emotions. If Bell were a person, she might show some sympathy for the poor man. Hold back a little. Unfortunately for Khan, she isn¡¯t. She is far from human. Any empathy she shows is false and calculated to achieve an end. As she has no need for it now, she doesn¡¯t show any, beating him mercilessly.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±

    Right up until the moment Alana calls her off. My future wife climbs to her feet and towers over her brother who¡¯s curled into a ball in an instinctive attempt to defend himself, Bell at his back like a vulture waiting for its prey to finally expire. I watch with baited breath, unable to predict what happens next. As Rolly would say, Alana has gone off script. I have no idea where she¡¯s going with this interrogation and dealing with her family always makes her erratic. Or, if someone wants to be unkind, unhinged.

    She validates my concerns when she viciously kicks Khan. Really puts her back into it. It¡¯s no surprise that he coughs up blood, curling around his stomach tighter.

    ¡°Do you think this is a joke?¡± she roars, spittle flying. ¡°You sneak into my camp, tell me you¡¯re working with Victory¡¯s enemies, and then refuse to answer my questions? You must think I¡¯m a saints¡¯ damned joke. Is that it, brother? Do you think this is a joke?!¡±

    His eyes as he looks up at her through his lashes are hesitant but defiant. ¡°Can¡¯t¡­¡± he wheezes.

    ¡°Bell, help him talk but don¡¯t heal anything else.¡±

    My imp lays hands on his back and he takes a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m not doing this because I enjoy it or to cause you distress,¡± he grumbles. ¡°But the secrets I know are dangerous. Things you couldn¡¯t understand. That our father could kill us for uttering.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Are you talking about how the Lords of the Peaks and the Lords of Winter are different beings?¡± She sneers as Khan jumps. ¡°Or maybe how our goal of establishing a forward base will break our agreement with the estrazi and reignite a war that almost destroyed Harvest centuries ago?¡±

    Her brother gasps, showing the most emotion so far. ¡°How did¡ª"

    ¡°How did I know?¡± She grabs him by his cloak and hauls him to his knees, ignoring his grimace. ¡°Why should I tell you? You¡¯re not being very forthcoming, are you?¡± She throws him back to the ground, visibly fuming.

    ¡°If you know that much, then you know why I¡¯m keeping secrets.¡± His glare is accusing. ¡°You haven¡¯t told Father about your revelations, have you?¡±

    ¡°You think that¡¯s why I¡¯m pissed? I understand keeping secrets for the good of Victory. I certainly have no intention of sharing what I know without at least some plan to handle the fallout. What makes me want to beat some sense into you is that you¡¯re keeping secrets at the behest of an enemy general.¡±

    ¡°They are not¡ª"

    ¡°They are enemies, Khan!¡± she roars. ¡°I don¡¯t care what their intentions are, they have threatened and continue to threaten us with extinction if we pry too deeply into their secrets. Secrets that may not be as benign as you think. We can¡¯t even trust the nobles who we know and understand, even if we don¡¯t like them, and you are taking these shady bastards¡¯ words like gospel from the saints because one of them showed off a shiny affinity?¡±

    I think doubt is starting to creep in. Khan certainly doesn¡¯t look as resolute as he once did. ¡°These things can¡¯t be compared. It¡¯s the fate of the world, Alana.¡±

    She sneers at him. ¡°I¡¯m sure years of lying to your family and probably sabotaging our efforts in the north has shown your trustworthiness to your new friends. Surely they¡¯ve given you some insight into their big secret. If not the secret itself or its location, at least a little clue as to its nature. Is it a horrible monster? An apocalyptic storm? An incurable plague?¡±

    Her sarcasm is heavy enough to bludgeon someone. ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Her laugh may as well be a dagger stabbing him in the chest from his grimace. ¡°So, you¡¯re implicitly trusting a group of people who don¡¯t want to tell you about a world-ending disaster.¡± A hand covers her eyes and she lets out a deep sigh. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re this much of an idiot.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-121

    Alana continues to berate her older brother for a good hour, accompanied by a few more kicks to his stomach. She also has Bell heal him before beating him again. It¡¯s not enough to break the stalwart scout. Despite the numerous insults she hurls at him, despite her threats, Khan refuses to talk. He may be the odd bird in the flock with his aversion to violence but he is still a northerner and a James. He has an iron will.

    And perhaps his seer was not entirely off the mark because Alana doesn¡¯t take it any further than a few bruises. She could easily break his fingers and snap his legs. Scoop out his eyes or pull out his tongue. Skin him alive or feed him his own organs. With two healers with little or very corrupted morals on hand, there are a lot of options to break a man. Not to mention the far more direct route of having Bell pull it out of his head. I even offered. But for reasons I completely understand, she refuses.

    Instead, she chooses to let her father handle his obstinate son. Another thing Khan didn¡¯t expect. He faced the threat of death with no problem but one mention of his sister tattling on him made the bronze-skinned man visibly pale. He spent the minutes it took Bell to find some rope and tie him up trying to convince Alana that abandoning him to the mercy of the duke would be a terrible idea.

    That evolves into mild begging when she doesn¡¯t flinch. It ends with Alana gagging him and handing him off to Geneva who is happy to drag him around as she patrols the camp. Alana doesn¡¯t trust that slamming a stake to the ground and tying him to it is enough to keep him contained.

    ¡°So, what are we going to do about this?¡± I ask once we¡¯re tucked into our pleasantly cramped bedroll, Alana squished between Kierra and me.

    ¡°It¡¯s a mess, isn¡¯t it?¡± she sighs. The angry demon that mercilessly stomped on her older brother is gone. Even the grim commander of our army is missing. A tired young woman has taken their place. She looks like thinking about the consequences of Khan is the last thing she wants to do but she also looks like she¡¯s thinking about it anyway. I know from experience that trying to coddle her is the wrong move and is likely to get me punched. Better to get right to the problem.

    She splays her hand over my chest. ¡°We¡¯ve got several problems. The biggest is this supposed world-ending threat. I chewed out Khan earlier but that is scary. So scary we can¡¯t leave it alone.¡±

    ¡°Even if investigating it will start a war?¡± I ask.

    Kierra is the one to answer, starting with a derisive scoff. ¡°Better to war with the enemy you know than the one you do not. You do not leave a threat to fester, dedia, little star. You do not trust the goodwill of strangers. It is possible that these guardians are exactly as they have presented themselves to the soft shadow. It is also possible they are up to a nefarious purpose and are using your brother, and Lou¡¯s ancestor, to hold off the human armies.¡±

    ¡°What could they be doing that takes four centuries?¡± Alana asks with obvious disbelief.

    ¡°That is only an unbelievable span of time to one who thinks a century of life is long. We are also speaking of a possible world-ending threat. The world is a very large place. I would be very disappointed if something that could threaten the whole of it did not take at least a few centuries to harness.¡±

    Alana hesitates at her words. ¡°¡­you¡¯re not wrong and I can¡¯t say I haven¡¯t thought the same. We have to know what they are protecting. But if we investigate, we start a war. Worse, we could risk having them unleash the threat to spite us. Or we do nothing and risk them wielding said threat. Which, great, no rampant destruction, but Victory and Harvest are undoubtedly screwed. Especially because there¡¯s nowhere left to run.¡±

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    She covers her face with both hands. ¡°All of which are far too big for me to be making the decision. Saints, I¡¯m getting a stomachache just thinking about it.¡±

    ¡°Which is why you want to throw Khan to your father.¡±

    ¡°Is that so bad?¡± she borderline whines. ¡°All I wanted from this campaign was to slay a few monsters, outdo my brother, avoid my sister, and introduce you to my mother. I did not sign on for saving the world.¡±

    ¡°Thought you¡¯d be jumping at the chance.¡±

    She whines harder, kicking my shin. I pull her hands from her face, revealing a scowl. ¡°Hey. It¡¯ll be fine. We¡¯ll figure it out together, no matter what this big secret is.¡±

    ¡°You do not have to figure it out alone,¡± Kierra adds. ¡°A seer has revealed a world-ending threat. From Lou¡¯s reaction, I take it this is a fantastical event for humanity but my people have dealt with those who delve into the future. We have established protocols for it.¡±

    I perk up. ¡°Are you saying¡ª"

    ¡°I will have to write to the queen once we return. We have learned from history. If there is another global threat brewing, the provinces will want to be involved. Also, these titans are more than enough to entice elven warriors.¡± She grins viciously. ¡°For the next campaign, you could have an army of my people marching for you, though you may not be in charge. That is something you would have to duel my mother for and I would spare you that.¡±

    Wow. Suddenly, the idea of a war with the north is not so daunting.

    Alana also doesn¡¯t look so dour with the offer of elven aid to take the pressure off her shoulders. ¡°Are you sure? Is our word enough to march an army?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°I think you do not understand my position. Not unexpected as I am nothing more than an oddity in your kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that,¡± I grumble, despite agreeing with her. She does not have a title that reflects her ability, ancestry, or experience. When people think of her, they think ¡°that strange elf¡± or ¡° the green woman¡±. The more informed recognize her by her pure affinity but not her power, though that may change after the incident with the hunters. She deserves better.

    The elf flashes me a smile that says my thoughts are plastered on my face again. ¡°My mother commands Dusk¡¯s army. My aunt is the queen. I was a commander with a strong reputation, though I imagine it has waned. My father has a grander reputation. My siblings are well-known too. The Atainna are royalty. Have been for longer than your kingdom has existed. My word, and by extension my family¡¯s, can move the provinces.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m reassured.¡± Hah! Alana thinks she¡¯s relieved throwing the problem to her father. That cannot compare to how I feel knowing I can throw it to Morgene Atainna, the woman who managed to trap Kierra for twenty years using a fraction of her power. ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing to worry about, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°What if the seer knows what we¡¯re planning and accelerates whatever plan they have? Can we afford to wait? Like you said, this could all be a ploy to buy time.¡±

    ¡°Could be,¡± I agree. ¡°Could also be that you worrying is what they want because they don¡¯t have a plan. Could be that us marching an elven army is exactly what they want because they need a thousand long ears to activate this world-ending threat. It could be anything. That¡¯s the problem of dealing with seers. That¡¯s why you don¡¯t deal with them and why you should have let me throw your brother out before he opened his mouth.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°¡­you might be right but it¡¯s too late for that now.¡±

    ¡°Which leaves us our backup plan. Don¡¯t think about it. We can¡¯t do anything about the seer. Can¡¯t outthink them, can¡¯t out anticipate them. It¡¯ll just make us crazy and paranoid. So, ignore it. The seer doesn¡¯t exist. Approach this problem as if there isn¡¯t an entity peering into your future and hope we¡¯re strong enough to deal with any obstacles that get in the way.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­decent advice.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to sound so surprised.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Thanks.¡± Alana lets out a deep sigh. ¡°You¡¯re right. Worrying about what a seer can and can¡¯t see doesn¡¯t help. It¡¯s just like a fight. Doesn¡¯t matter if your opponent can see your swing if they¡¯re too slow to dodge. We give Khan to my father, march on Quest for the guilds¡¯ resources, write the elven monarchs for reinforcements, and wage a proper war next winter. To save the world. Can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying that.¡±

    My elf chuckles while throwing an arm over both of us. ¡°When I first met Lou, I knew such a strange creature would have an interesting fate. You wasted no time in proving me right, my love.¡±

    Something tells me things are only going to get more interesting from here.

 ARC 6-Winter War-122

    ¡°Alana, listen to me.¡±

    Despite his questionable motives and allegiances, the morning after Khan¡¯s sudden appearance, Alana orders the army to maintain camp. We are abiding by Khan¡¯s warning. Not out of sentimentality or fear. After a terse conversation about our morality, Alana agreed to let Bell delve into Khan¡¯s mind. She wasn¡¯t happy about it, far from, but she¡¯s less happy that he¡¯s keeping secrets for their enemies.

    Too bad my fears were right and there was no information to gleam from his mind. According to my imp, someone has had their fingers in there already. I thought Alana was pissed when he told us he was allies with the Lords of Winter. It couldn¡¯t be compared to her anger once she found out he willingly let a mental caster stir his brain.

    Or at least, he thinks he did so willingly. It¡¯s difficult to be sure when mind magic is in play. Bell can¡¯t be sure either. He¡¯s had too much work done to pick out individual adjustments.

    What she could confirm is none of his memories are false. That means, a spell or two might have helped his decision but, in the end, he made the decision. It¡¯s not a position that was implanted in his mind. And, because there are no compulsions guiding his actions, he is continuously making the same choice every day.

    Alana nearly killed him when Bell relayed that tidbit. She didn¡¯t speak with him for the rest of the day and refused to let him eat Geneva¡¯s food, angrily throwing loaves of bread at him at mealtimes. She wouldn¡¯t even allow him a drink. If not for me, she would have made him eat snow rather than pour him a cup of water.

    Underneath all that anger, I¡­think she¡¯s hurt. Or maybe very, very disappointed. Alana has idolized her father and the James family for a long time. Khan¡¯s actions must be an incredible betrayal. Saints, I don¡¯t like her family and only have the faintest connection to them but I feel betrayed.

    Khan has spent every waking moment trying to ease her anger. Whether it¡¯s because he is terrified of his father or genuinely feels bad, he hasn¡¯t shut up. Whenever Alana walks past, he calls out to her. If she happens to be in his vicinity for longer than a moment, he¡¯ll talk aloud, forcing her to hear his arguments whether she wants to or not.

    Not even being dragged through the snow by Kierra the second morning after his appearance hasn¡¯t deterred him. We did abide by his warning to avoid the apparent approaching storm. Alana doesn¡¯t trust a word out of his mouth now but it made sense. If he¡¯s telling the truth, being caught in that storm leads to the end of the world. If he¡¯s lying and stalling for time so that his new friends can ambush us, we¡¯ll be ready for them. The army would also be well-rested, rather than exhausted.

    We are on the march again but things are different. Rather than walking aimlessly into danger, we¡¯re returning to the relative safety of Victory. Who knows how safe it truly is now that Khan has spilled all their secrets but it has to be better than this white wasteland.

    The mood is high as everyone is eager to return. They haven¡¯t faced many struggles, I¡¯ve overheard a few of the more experienced hunters commenting that this is the easiest campaign they¡¯ve ever marched on, but being surrounded by danger is stressful for anyone.

    Khan may be the only one who¡¯s in a bad mood, as his continued attempts at conversation are ignored. ¡°I don¡¯t think you are considering the ramifications of your actions,¡± he spouts, his voice remarkably calm for someone being treated worse than luggage. ¡°You want to involve our father because you are concerned about the secrets of the estrazi but we won¡¯t survive long enough to discover them. If Victory moves against them, they will destroy the fort.¡±

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    He speaks without concern, knowing we will take precautions against exposure. Rolly is stopping our words from traveling but if he tries to babble non-stop like yesterday, I¡¯ll have to knock him out so she doesn¡¯t empty her core.

    ¡°A war starts and ends in the mind,¡± Alana grumbles without looking at him.

    ¡°This is not a tactic.¡±

    ¡°Everything¡¯s a tactic.¡±

    ¡°You sound just like Father.¡± He huffs. ¡°You had the creature look into my mind. You know this is not posturing. They have numbers and strength. That doesn¡¯t include the monsters of the north. They slaughter thousands of us while unorganized. It isn¡¯t difficult to imagine the devastation they can unleash under competent leaders.¡±

    ¡°Not my decision to make.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to avoid responsibility. It is your decision when you know the consequences of your actions. Right now, you have the ability to avoid a tragedy. Being a noble, being a James, means more than swinging a sword. It means you have to make hard decisions.¡±

    ¡°This bastard has the audacity to lecture me on being a James.¡±

    ¡°Breathe, sweetie,¡± I whisper, grabbing her hand. She bows her head and takes a deep breath. Seeing that she¡¯s in control, I look over my shoulder at Khan, who is glaring at her back. ¡°And you. The only thing you talking is going to accomplish is pissing us off and getting yourself hurt. We¡¯ve already established you¡¯re not that smart but I¡¯m hoping you have enough sense to realize it¡¯s better to shut up before we make you.¡±

    ¡°¡­is it your bannerwoman that¡¯s giving you the confidence to ignite a war whose scoop you can¡¯t possibly understand? They¡¯re strong but they¡¯re not strong enough. They can¡¯t stop an army of titans.¡±

    ¡°You have no idea what I¡¯m capable of,¡± I hiss.

    ¡°You¡¯re misunderstanding, brother,¡± Alana growls. ¡°I¡¯m not handing you over to Father because I think we can win a war against your friends. I don¡¯t think anything about this. I don¡¯t know what to think. Every decision I could make has the potential to end in disaster. So, why force myself to make it? Our father is the duke. It is his duty to protect the north and Harvest from the threats of the north. The people of Victory trust him with that responsibility. If someone has to decide their future, they want it to be him. I respect their will. I respect our father, our family, and our role. Things you clearly don¡¯t give a damn about anymore.¡±

    The words are delivered in a flat tone. They aren¡¯t meant to be an admonishment but Khan flinches multiple times. Bastard. If you know you¡¯re wrong, why play these games?

    ¡°I respect our Father too, but I also know him. I know he can¡¯t be reasoned with. I know our family and our people will throw themselves to their deaths rather than surrender, even if it¡¯s the right thing to do. Is it so wrong to spare them that fate?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want or need to decide that. Now shut up before¡ª"

    [ENEMY ATTACK!]

    Geneva¡¯s warning slams into my mind along with all the information she has; dozens of minds that appear from seemingly nowhere, less than a league away, all broadcasting deadly intent. She doesn¡¯t know what form the attack will take but if all the hostile minds are cooperating, it has to be large. And saints damn it all, her idiot brother really led us into a trap. I swear, I¡¯m going to be the next to take a turn trying to beat the stupid out of him.

    With no way to know the scope of the danger, I do the only thing I can. I take my sturdiest form, that of purple ooze, and grab Alana, throwing her to the ground and wrapping around her. In this form, my vision is omnidirectional, so I can see the way the rest of the army reacts.

    Geneva must have warned everyone as there is no delay in their response. Except for Khan. He simply stares stupidly after Kierra drops him, uncomprehending. My elf dives beside me, using me as cover. The knights form up, ready for an attack while the hunters look around with glowing eyes, searching for targets. But there aren¡¯t any enemies.

    [It isn¡¯t a charge. It has to be a ranged attack.]

    Again, her words must be transmitted to the army as I see walls of ice and earth rising from the ground. Though not quickly enough. As the covers come up, dozens of dark shapes rain down from the gray sky. I spread myself a little further, making sure Kierra is shielded, as too many arrows to count rain down on us.

 ARC 6-Winter War-123

    There are a few things that a barrage of arrows implies. Perhaps the most important conclusion I can draw is the level of development of our enemies. The heads are made of metal and the arrows themselves are uniform, implying skilled craftsmen with proper tools and workshops. That means our attackers, who I¡¯m guessing are the estrazi, as it would be a little too ridiculous if another sentient force had somehow ambushed us, are more likely to be another race as opposed to intelligent manabeasts. After all, no matter how smart they are, manabeasts are still animals. They fight with their bodies. They don¡¯t shoot arrows.

    It also implies coordination. Khan threatened Alana with the possibility of the monsters of the north being led by an intelligent commander but we know we can¡¯t trust anything he says. This adds a little more credibility to the claim. My ancestor¡¯s journal proved they were intelligent and capable of negotiation. What this proves is they can cooperate to assault another force. Being smart doesn¡¯t mean being good at war. Unfortunately, that isn¡¯t the case for these people.

    What it does call into question is their strength. Arrows, unless in the hands of monsters like Kierra, are the tools of the common soldier. Elite fighters fight with magic. Instead of a hail of flimsy projectiles, they could have blown our army apart with one good spell. I have to wonder why they didn¡¯t.

    Later. Now, I have other concerns. The least of which being those who were too slow to put up adequate defenses. The knights are already moving to cover them. More important are the enemies slipping past said knights. Something that would normally be incredible but they have an interesting advantage. I am tracking their progress as they sprint through the army through their pounding heartbeats but I can¡¯t see them. No traces, not even footprints in the snow.

    These bastards are invisible. I have no clue how and every explanation I can think of is horrifying. The best option is they have a master light affinity caster. One with such a mastery of the element they can cloak multiple moving entities, which is rather ridiculous. The worse option is that all these bastards have the light affinity and are shielding themselves.

    Another thought I have to put out of my mind as I refocus on the battle. Geneva, can you take out the archers?

    [Not from this distance. I believe they are readying another volley. If I am to stop them, I have to move now.]

    ¡­do it. I¡¯m sure we can handle things here.

    [As you will, my summoner.]

    As she confirms my orders, two dozen purple limbs sprout from my body, two for each of the enemies I hear approaching. I lash out at their approximate locations as I roll off Alana.

    She sucks in a deep breath as several of the sprinters gasp. Nine of the twelve are slapped to the ground by my tentacles, becoming visible. The other three dodge, hearts thumping fast as they skirt around me. Heading for Khan. He¡¯s the only possible target.

    I sprout two more limbs and reach for Khan who is still lying in the snow, trying to wriggle free of the rope binding him. Instead of grabbing hold of the James, they hit something solid. Something I also can¡¯t see. A barrier of air? Someone with a second affinity?

    Two of the heartbeats are no longer moving. Must be the ones who blocked me, and saints help me if that means they both have an air affinity, while the third reaches Khan. The scout grunts as he¡¯s lifted into the air and put on what I guess is an invisible shoulder. His limbs start to disappear as his kidnapper¡¯s spell spreads to him.

    But the process is halted by Alana¡¯s sword cleaving through what appears to be empty air. She sprinted forward when she saw my limbs shoot out, needing no explanation to figure out the situation.

    Her target is revealed as they scream, a harsh, guttural roar that is definitely not human, blood so red it¡¯s almost black painting the snow around them in a wide arc. Khan falls into the snow along with a blue scaled arm.

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    The rest of the injured estrazi is also scaly. And lizard-like. Especially its long head with its heavily accentuated brow, wide jaw, and small nostrils. Two small blue eyes with long slit pupils glance between Alana¡¯s sword and Khan indecisively, a four-fingered hand hovering over its wounded arm while a long tail sweeps the snow anxiously.

    ¡°Go!¡± the fallen James shouts, his features twisted in fear, the most emotion I¡¯ve seen from hit yet, as I change back to my prime form. While the estrazi I knocked down are being pressured by the knights, who were quick to react to the threats that were no longer invisible, the other two who foiled my attempts to grab the scout are still moving.

    ¡°As if I¡¯d¡ª" Alana flinches, throwing herself to the side. Kierra¡¯ training shows, the future saint¡¯s reflexes allowing her to dodge the unseen assault. It¡¯s clumsy, made worse by the thick snow. I doubt she can pull it off again but she doesn¡¯t have to. I¡¯m there.

    Using the frantic heartbeats to guide me, I grab one of the invisible attackers, nails shifting into claws. I tear away flesh, knocking my victim to the ground, before throwing myself at the second, tackling someone I can¡¯t see to the snow and blindly raining blows on them.

    Alana doesn¡¯t wait to see if anyone else is going to target her. The kidnapper is gone from sight but they¡¯re leaving behind a trail of blood. She is after it. A moment after she takes off, Bell races after her, a blur of orange. Good, she hasn¡¯t forgotten her role.

    ¡°Lady Tome, please stop!¡±

    I turn to Khan, sneering at his horrified expression. Is this bastard still trying to defend these creatures?

    I ignore him, searching for the second heartbeat. Also no longer visible but a trail of blood is leading to the side. I leap after them. It takes moments to close the distance and I slam into them. As they come into view, I loop an arm around their shoulder, shuddering at the sensation. By the saints, why are they so slimy? I put aside my disgust as I drag the creature over to Khan, ignoring its futile attempts to escape. Its four-fingered hands are tipped with small claws that skate harmlessly off my skin.

    I force the estrazi to kneel next to Khan, who squirms harder. ¡°Somebody you know?¡± I growl.

    ¡°Lady Tome, please. You don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re doing. It¡¯s not too late¡ª"

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s too late. It¡¯s far too late. I know it¡¯s a little difficult to keep track of things but you see that?¡± I point to where the knights are putting down the last of the estrazi. ¡°Your friends attacked us. If there was a chance of talking this out, it just got swallowed by a goliath. Good luck dragging it out.¡±

    My captive hisses. To my shock, Khan hisses back in a poor imitation of the noise. Must be good enough because my captive quiets, growling softly.

    Khan coughs before turning to me. ¡°Listen to me. These are not soldiers. They are hands. The nameless. Their deaths are a shame but not enough to start a war. As long as you spare any estrazi with colored scales. You cannot harm them, under any circumstances.¡±

    ¡°You are really bad at reading a room. This is not the time for you to be making demands. This is when you start cooperating.¡±

    ¡°Tome.¡±

    I look up to see a knight standing over me. A female knight. Her voice is a little ambiguous, especially through her helm, but I can smell her soap. Smells like some kind of flower. Must be incredibly expensive here in the north.

    Her dark eyes move to the estrazi I¡¯m holding before returning to my face. ¡°We have subdued the enemies within the camp. What are your orders?¡±

    Ah. With Alana gone, as her bannerwoman, I¡¯m next in charge, aren¡¯t I? ¡°What¡¯s our status?¡±

    ¡°The arrows were laced with a toxin of some kind. It hit a few of the acolytes and hunters. We created a shelter to protect them and the elf is tending to them.¡±

    We can¡¯t move with those idiots down. There¡¯s also a nonzero chance that there is another ambush lying in wait in case the first failed. Or to do more damage once our guard is down. ¡°Stay still, focus on defending the injured. Empty a wagon and send ten, no, a dozen or so knights that way.¡± I point in the direction Geneva ran ff. ¡°Be ready for enemies but they¡¯re not going into a fight. It¡¯s clean-up duty.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± Her eyes move to Khan. Oof. No mistaking that look. She is disgusted by him and can communicate it clearly with just her eyes. ¡°And him?¡±

    If she had approached while Khan was pleading for his friends, it wouldn¡¯t be hard to draw an accurate conclusion about his association with them. She can¡¯t possibly know these things, or people as the case may be, are connected to the Lords of Winter but seeing a James beg for the life of any enemy is damning enough.

    ¡°We¡¯ll let the duke deal with him.¡±

    She seems to approve, nodding her head respectfully before running off. I turn back to Khan, who is hiding his face in the snow. Couldn¡¯t face her glare, I suppose. Better get a hold of himself. He has a lot more of that waiting for him.

 ARC 6-Winter War-124

    Alana returns quickly, dragging a corpse behind her. She drops it beside Khan, who flinches as it lands in the snow. She spares her brother a scowl before turning to me and my captive. ¡°Thanks for earlier. You moved fast.¡±

    My lips turn up in a grin. ¡°We keeping this one?¡± I shake my captive, getting a series of hisses in return. Bell, what is this thing saying?

    [My apologies, Master Lou. The creature is wearing an artifact that is blocking mana intrusion. I would exhaust myself trying to read its thoughts. It is loudly broadcasting aggression and a desire to hurt you.]

    Wonderful. I slam the reptile face-first into the snow and straddle its waist.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Alana asks with a dubious voice as I run my hands over the lizard, ignoring its thrashing.

    ¡°Bell says Squirmie here is wearing an artifact.¡± I gesture to the naked lizard. The only thing preserving this creature¡¯s modesty are two thick patches of white fur that cover its inner thighs. It doesn¡¯t seem like they¡¯re wearing anything. That means nothing as they¡¯ve demonstrated an ability to make themselves invisible. Along with anything attached to them, like the corpse that tried to disappear Khan. Which means, just because I can¡¯t see it, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not here.

    Squirmie¡¯s squirming intensifies as my hands move closer to their waist. Just when I think I¡¯m going to find out whether it¡¯s a boy lizard or a girl lizard, my fingers brush string. Surprisingly strong string, as it resists my first and second attempts to snap it. I have to put my back into it, nearly toppling backwards after I break it.

    The moment I do, or more importantly once the string leaves the lizard¡¯s body, the artifact becomes visible. I hold it up with one hand, the other pushing down a very mad Squirmie as they flail desperately.

    For something that can stump a succubus virtue, the artifact is rather plain. It looks like¡­a purple scale. A very large one with braided string wrapped around it. The hell is this?

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Master Lou, perhaps you should listen to the James boy. That is a dragon scale. One that still contains the magic of the dragon it came from.]

    Oh.

    That¡¯s¡­not good.

    [If these estrazi are connected to dragons, then Khan¡¯s dire warnings make sense. They are not enemies you want to fight, even with your incredible gifts.]

    Do you really think you have to tell me that? Who is stupid enough to willingly challenge dragons? Not only does every single one have a pure affinity and a massive mana pool, they have the natural strength of powerful manabeasts, meaning large, sturdy bodies. And big claws. Very big claws. At least, according to the legends.

    [The legends are correct.]

    How do you know?

    ¡°Coo~¡± [The first time I was contracted to this realm, my summoner was rather incompetent. After subduing him, I traveled the world, looking for more suitable contractors for the future. I heard dragons were the strongest creatures so I made my way to the Dragon Isles. My master¡­they are unfathomable. Succubi are told to avoid them at all costs. If our summoners insist, we are to use all means available to dissuade them.]

    Saints. I¡¯m not surprised but¡­could the two of you bring one down? If it came to it?

    [We will do anything but the impossible for you.]

    That¡¯s a cute way of calling me stupid for asking. The scale suddenly feels very heavy in my hand. Peering at it, I don¡¯t see a spell carved into it, nor an affinity stone. Is this even an artifact?

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    [Manabeasts have magic throughout their entire bodies. It is what makes their corpses so valuable.]

    Are you telling me¡­that dragons are so¡­magical¡­that one of their scales, still containing their mana, can function as an artifact by itself? One strong enough to block you? A single scale?

    ¡°Coo!¡± [Correct.]

    Saints save us all.

    ¡°Want to share what Bell¡¯s cooing about?¡± Alana asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.

    ¡°I think your brother might not be a complete idiot,¡± I grumble. I slowly get to my feet, keeping Squirmie pinned with a foot on their back. I hold out the scale to her. ¡°Apparently, this belongs to one of the majesties of the sky.¡±

    Her fingers pause before touching it. ¡°A dragon?¡±

    ¡°According to her.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re kidding me.¡±

    ¡°Alana, you know how much I hate dealing with strong powers. Do you think I¡¯d joke about dragons?¡± Who jokes about dragons?

    ¡°Mm. Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Well said.¡±

    Cold blue eyes turn to her brother. ¡°Do you know anything about this?¡±

    He shakes his head miserably.

    ¡°Of course he doesn¡¯t. He let them erase that information from his mind.¡± Which I don¡¯t understand. If these estrazi don¡¯t want anyone trespassing in the north, all they have to do is mention their connection to the scaly overlords. The crown may be wary of Victory but I know, without a doubt, they would wage war against the crazy northerners a hundred times rather than risk pissing off a dragon once.

    Alana sighs heavily. ¡°As much as I would love to leave these things here and forget about this whole mess, that is no longer an option. They attacked an army from Victory. Even if I wanted to keep it quiet, there are too many witnesses. My father will be informed and he cannot ignore this.¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°All I wanted was a few corpses to gloat over. Maybe some gold. A nice sword from the armory. Instead, I get dragons. Wait.¡± She looks at Squirmie, lying still after tiring themselves out, with muted horror. ¡°You don¡¯t think that is¡­that these estrazi are¡­small dragons?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°You sound pretty certain.¡±

    ¡°These things are too weak.¡± Sure, it¡¯s a bit impressive that they seem to all have the light affinity, if that is the source of their invisibility, but they have nothing else going for them. They¡¯re fast but not that fast. They might be strong but not that I¡¯ve noticed. Not a single one threw spells. They ambushed us with arrows. Very unimpressive. Too unimpressive to be related to dragons. I¡¯d bet Bell¡¯s tail on it.

    ¡°Hmph. It changes nothing. Once we return, we can drop this whole mess on my father and get out of the north.¡±

    My brows rise at the anxiousness in her voice. ¡°You sound very eager to leave. What about taking control of the March? And showing off our goliath head?¡±

    ¡°Lou, it¡¯s dragons. I¡¯m not sticking around a moment longer than I need to.¡±

    It¡¯s a little refreshing to not be the one panicking. Not that I don¡¯t understand the impulse. I agree with her reaction completely.

    ¡°How¡¯s the army doing?¡±

    ¡°I had them stay put, in case of another ambush. The arrows were laced with something. Kierra¡¯s taking control of saving lives. I sent Geneva after the archers. Seeing as there hasn¡¯t been another volley and she hasn¡¯t come running for help, I¡¯m assuming it went well. I sent some knights to grab the corpses.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Soon as they¡¯re back, we¡¯re moving. Much faster than we have been. I don¡¯t care if we have to carry the acolytes. I¡¯m going to get things moving. Don¡¯t let these two out of your sight.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I turn to Khan as she runs off, Bell at her heels. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re stuck with me.¡±

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t think much of me,¡± he says in a grave tone, ¡°and I know that the mental affinity does not go well with trust. But I know myself. I may not fit well with Victory, but I am a James. I love my home and I understand my duty. If I did this, I did it for the good of the north. For my family. I¡­think of that before you make any decisions that can¡¯t be taken back.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°You should have written down such great advice for yourself, brother. Decisions that can¡¯t be taken back have already been made. Come on.¡± I reach down, grabbing Squirmie by their long neck and Khan by his cloak before sitting between them. ¡°There is one point in your favor.¡±

    ¡°And what is that?¡± he mutters miserably.

    ¡°They came for you. They must have been worried what would happen after you delivered your warning and tried to get you. Granted, they didn¡¯t try very hard, doubt these were the elites of the bunch, but they tried. That¡¯s something.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­something.¡±

    ¡°Which will mean nothing if anyone dies as a result of this ambush. Alana was very excited about returning with no casualties.¡±

    ¡°I believe the fate of the world is more important than a campaign record.¡±

    ¡°I dare you to say that to her face.¡±

    ¡°I may as well. A dead man fears no consequences.¡±

    I glance at him askance. ¡°You think you¡¯re going to die?¡± I thought they¡¯d imprison him. With time, maybe a mental caster can undo the work on his mind and he clearly is of some importance to these people. Besides, he¡¯s a James. Nobles always get a little leeway.

    Khan¡¯s blank gaze doesn¡¯t reflect my confidence. ¡°You should take some time to learn about the family you have involved yourself with. Execution is the best thing that can happen to me and a mercy I don¡¯t expect any time soon.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-125-Interlude (Robert)

    It happened suddenly.

    Robert spent the morning walking marching alongside Will, the leader of the Squires, happily discussing their return. Many people had warned him how dangerous the north was. While they hadn¡¯t exaggerated, the campaign had been much easier than he¡¯d imagined. Than anyone had imagined.

    Will had originally been horrified that they would be regulated to Alana¡¯s army, wary of following such an inexperienced commander, but it had turned out to be a boon. They were well-protected, their lives were safeguarded by some of the best healers on the continent, and they would not be traveling as far as the larger armies.

    The last was the biggest boon, as the march was the most harrowing part of the campaign. There was something maddening about the surroundings never changing no matter how far one walked. It fed into a deep dread, one that had plagued Robert from the moment they had left the safety of Victory¡¯s walls.

    It wasn¡¯t a feeling he was unaccustomed to. Robert knew pressure. He had learned to operate under it, though he couldn¡¯t claim it didn¡¯t affect him at all. Normally, after a long day, he had a soft bed to absorb all his aches and worries. That, and a few words of encouragement, were enough to get him through the harshest days of his training.

    Camping in the cold wasteland beyond the territory of the human kingdom, there was nothing soft to lay his head on. Somehow, when he had prepared for the campaign, he hadn¡¯t thought to bring a comfy pillow, a decision he regretted. The hard ground did nothing to heal him. He didn¡¯t even have the refreshing warmth of the sun in the morning. The only thing he appreciated about his sleeping arrangements were that the tents kept out the wind.

    He would never voice his complaints, but it was wearing him down. Mana strain and lack of sleep certainly didn¡¯t help. He eventually adjusted to the cold and sleeping on a bedroll, but the night terrors still kept him awake. Real and imagined.

    His own mind was the worse enemy but it drew inspiration from the threats he¡¯d faced. Mainly, one in particular. Dogs that stood like men, wielding weapons made of ice. Silent as gently falling snow as they hacked and slashed through the camp. Dodging swords and magic as they skated through the army, cutting down the unprepared outsiders and occasional unfortunate knight as they passed.

    He had injured several, throwing fire in wide bursts as they approached, but hadn¡¯t managed to bring down a single. They didn¡¯t share his failure. Five injuries came from the dozens of monsters that skated past him. One on his sword arm, causing him to drop his weapon. A long gash on his side. Two more cuts to his legs when he tried to retreat. The final strike slit his throat. A lethal blow.

    For a moment, Robert thought he was going to die. He knew it. Felt the end grow closer as he drowned in his own blood.

    That would have been the end of the Harvest Hero if not for Lourianne Tome¡¯s creature. The smiling succubus had appeared over him for a moment, the curve of her lips mocking. Robert¡¯s fear was joined by anger and embarrassment. Shortly after by relief as she touched the end of her tail to his head and her mana seeped into him, suffusing him with warmth as she stopped the bleeding. That was all she did, running off to the next critically injured. Leaving him to stew in the oppressive silence, forced to remain still as he didn¡¯t want to aggravate his recently closed wounds.

    Until the silence had ended. The combined sound of howling dogs, the death cries of a titanic monster, the screams of men, and the sounds of combat had been¡­overwhelming. The cacophony haunted his dreams. Every time he recalled the worst night in the campaign, he was further convinced that he was not at all ready for the true threats to the kingdom¡­and that he would be dead without Lourianne Tome.

    A thought he didn¡¯t like to dwell on. Not just because it was depressing but because it was bad for his focus. He needed to maintain a state of alertness. At any time, another band of reapers, the flower-wearing bears, or something worse could appear.

    A wise decision. Alana¡¯s announcement that they were returning to Victory had put him in a good mood, his best mood since arriving in the north, but he hadn¡¯t relaxed. That meant, when they were ambushed not three hours into their march, he was one of the first amongst the acolytes to react.

    The method of warning was unique to Lourianne¡¯s creature. Rather than a shouted a warning, the information was pushed directly into his mind. Enemies, several dozen. Imminent attack. A vague direction.

    Robert turned. Seeing nothing but snow, he immediately began to cast. The earth affinity was a little harder to use in the north, as the cold, hard ground needed a bit more power to move, but he was more accustomed to it than ice. He may not be the most experienced fighter but he had certainly learned the folly of hesitation throughout the campaign. If he couldn¡¯t see the enemies or their attack, the only thing he could do was prepare to defend.

    A smart decision as moments later, the next message came. Bombardment incoming, though the creature could give no details on the method. Robert was already in the midst of putting up a wall and shouted for the slower-moving acolytes to get behind it. Will took more direct action, grabbing two startled young men toward him. All except one of the Squires, a poor, exhausted fool with bags under his eyes so heavy Robert imagined it would take half a lifetime for them to disappear, managed to duck behind the shelter.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Their slowest member got caught in the hail of arrows that descended, crying out in pain as the force of it hitting his shoulder turned him around before dropping him in the snow. Will was again the first to move, darting out to grab him and drag him behind the wall while also yelling orders. ¡°I need two more walls on either side. Prepare to defend yourselves but don¡¯t move out. Let the knights take the lead.¡±

    ¡°Oi, oi,¡± one of the Squires muttered, staring at the fallen man, whose pale skin had turned a bright red at an alarming speed. ¡°What in this frozen Abyss is going on? That¡¯s an arrow, right?¡±

    ¡°Not the time,¡± Will snapped.

    ¡°Monsters don¡¯t use arrows!¡±

    ¡°No, enemies do! And these are laced with something so you better pay attention before you get hit with one.¡±

    Robert didn¡¯t need the reminder. As the others raised two more walls for their impromptu shelter, he faced the empty back, sword in hand, eyes peeled.

    He had studied a little military history under his mentor. The arrows suggested an intelligent army. While that had several implications he didn¡¯t want, and probably wasn¡¯t qualified, to consider, what he remembered from their discussions was that a bombardment, whether magical or mundane, almost always preceded a charge.

    The enemy frontline should be taking advantage of the confusion caused by their arrows to attack. Despite that, he heard nothing of the sort. No war cries or feet crunching the snow. No explosions of spells. It was quiet besides the occasional barked order but he had already learned that silence could be deceptive.

    Soon enough, the tension was broken by a scream. A distinctively inhuman scream, a mix between a screech and a roar. Robert¡¯s eyes moved toward the sound as a body flew through the air, rolling through the snow before coming to a stop near their shelter.

    He had a moment to take in the human-lizard hybrid creature before another landed next to it, painting the surroundings with its dark blood.

    A moment later, the elf appeared, carrying a third on her shoulder. Robert felt something was different about her. It came to him as she dropped the corpse atop the others. Under her eyes, there were two red slits, that widened and narrowed as she breathed. Combined with the blood covering her and her vicious smile, it was rather disturbing.

    ¡°Only one of you is down, good.¡± A forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, before disappearing behind her smile. ¡°Stay focused, cubs. The enemies are invisible.¡±

    ¡°Invisible?!¡± Will exclaimed. ¡°We never heard anything about that!¡±

    The elf ignored them, kneeling next to the injured Squire. Fingers coated in the glow of her magic, she touched his sweaty brow. The touch was enough to make him grimace. ¡°Hm. I see.¡±

    ¡°Am¡­am I dying?¡± the man gasped, clearly in pain. Robert felt his stomach clench in sympathy. However, he also felt a small surge of pride. If he hadn¡¯t acted, the others could have ended up the same way. He could be the one lying on the ground, useless, again, but he wasn¡¯t. A small victory but one he counted in his heart.

    ¡°Dying?¡± The elf chuckled. ¡°No. You appear to be uncomfortable but your body is fine.¡± She straightened up with a shake of her head. ¡°This poison cannot kill anyone. What a cute diversion.¡±

    ¡°You call¡­this¡­cute?¡± the fallen Squire grumbled.

    Robert understood his grievances but felt the man was wasting his breath. There was no empathy in that smile.

    ¡°You are alive, are you not? Something that would never be the case if I had shot that arrow. So, cute.¡± She waves her hand dismissively. ¡°Since there is no need for a healer, I will go grab the geckos. Stay safe, cubs.¡±

    With another chuckle, she disappeared from the shelter, kicking up snow as she ran off. Robert watched her departure with mixed feelings.

    On one hand, she¡¯d ensured they were safe and seemed confident that they weren¡¯t facing any real danger. On the other, as a healer she¡¯d left a man twitching in pain when she could have done something, preferring to be in the thick of the fight. He supposed her responsibility ended after making sure he would live but it was definitely a callous thing to do.

    ¡°Sssssss.¡±

    His attention was drawn to the corpses. Or not. One of the creatures was still alive. It stared at him, pale blue eyes with slit pupils, narrowed in either pain or exhaustion. Its arm twitched and a four-fingered hand moved toward him. Reaching for him as it hissed softly.

    Robert felt something watching its dying struggle. Something¡­indescribable but along with the feeling came a certain knowledge. This was no ordinary manabeast. They could be intelligent, and he certainly saw intelligence in that gaze, but there was also emotion. It seemed to be pleading with him, its hisses full of vulnerability. Slowly, Robert felt himself lowering his sword, his mouth parting to speak though he had no idea what he would say.

    The moment was shattered before he could figure it out. With a meaty thunk, a hammer slammed into the head of the pleading lizard, spraying dark blood.

    ¡°Huh, they really aren¡¯t that tough.¡± George, one of the more experienced Squires, put his weapon on his shoulder. ¡°First time I¡¯m seeing these guys. You, Will?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ve never heard of an invisible monster. This is¡ªyou alright, Quin?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Realizing the two gazes on him, Robert snapped out of his confused thoughts and turned away from the recently pulverized monster. ¡°Yeah, fine.¡±

    ¡°Well, this campaign hasn¡¯t been the most lucrative but we might be able to make decent coin after all.¡± Will grinned. ¡°The alchemists always pay good money for undiscovered monsters. Haha, we really do have good luck working for Alana. I¡¯ll have to make sure to buy her a drink once we make it back to Quest.¡±

    His leader¡¯s words sobered the future hero. What was he doing, imagining a monster was pleading with him? No matter how intelligent it was, it had tried to kill them. His job was to kill it and he would be paid for it. The last thing he needed to do was make things more complicated by imagining crazy things.

    He repeated that reasoning again and again in his mind but it didn¡¯t help. As the camp was cleared and the army resumed its march, the only thing he could think of was the soft hissing and pleading eyes. He thought of them and he wondered.

 ARC 6-Winter War-126

    On our march back to Victory, I learn many things about our captives. That includes the estrazi and Khan. Couldn¡¯t go separating such good friends so they all get to share a wagon. That includes the dead estrazi. Making the poor bastards ride home alongside their dead friends or family seems a little cruel in hindsight but no one was feeling charitable toward them when the decision was made.

    No one died in their ambush. Even the poison they used wasn¡¯t lethal. The quick onset of symptoms and the pain it caused were meant to be a distraction. I guess the estrazi thought we¡¯d be too concerned with our injured to bother chasing after them. A plan that might have worked for any other army.

    They couldn¡¯t have known we would have Kierra, who intuited the nature of the poison in moments, and could detect the invisible estrazi. Not only was her hearing strong enough to hear their breaths and heartbeats, she tracked them through their heat, a highly effective method in such a cold environment. I know there¡¯s a spell that can allow a caster to see heat but I had no idea there were creatures that could do so naturally. A perfect demonstration of the classic capabilities of a shapeshifter, rather than the body-crafting I¡¯ve been using my talents for.

    Though what keeps bothering me about the whole mess is that while their actions say they had no idea about our capabilities, they should have known. The estrazi have a seer. Khan had a general idea of our abilities so why not the group tasked to ambush us? And why use such weak adversaries for an attack against a northern army? Without their invisibility, the attacking estrazi are more useless than the acolytes. The whole thing makes little sense.

    Our interrogations didn¡¯t reveal much. Alana didn¡¯t hesitate to give my succubi permission to raid their minds. However, even with Geneva digging through their memories, there wasn¡¯t much to learn. The minds of our attackers are incredibly simple. On the level of very young children. Smart enough to learn some concepts and follow complicated orders but not much else.

    They appear to be servants, which explains their lack of combat prowess. Perhaps the most valuable intelligence gleamed from them is the knowledge of their home, a vast network of tunnels and caverns, both under and above ground, carved out of stone and ice.

    Our attackers are fisher¡­men? Women? Lizards? Their job was to dive into icy waters and bring back dinner for colony. Day in and day out, they did the same job, never tiring or questioning it. The estrazi colonies do not appear to celebrate individuality or ambition. The poor bastards would have died doing the same thing they¡¯d been doing from the moment they matured into fully grown lizards and that was the norm.

    What was completely out of the norm was being ordered to attack our army and retrieve Khan but as it was an order from their leader, who they have never seen or spoken with, leaving their identity shrouded in mystery, they didn¡¯t question it.

    Not even when they were sent out with a minimum of supplies and no weapons. The bows and arrows don¡¯t count. They were confiscated from fallen Victory knights from previous campaigns and are considered worthless by the estrazi. Makes one question what they do consider weapons.

    That was it for the information they could offer.

    Khan offered a little more. While his memories are still scrambled, interacting with the estrazi has revealed subconscious memories. Ingrained habits and reflexes that only reveal themselves when the estrazi are near. Things buried too deep for Bell to have discovered in the cursory dip into his mind Alana allowed. Things that clarify his relationship with these people.

    Like the fact that he can speak their language, a mix of hissing, screeching, and movement. That¡¯s not something one can learn in a day and not something the estrazi would bother to teach a simple ally. They were quite close. Or, at the very least, they wanted Khan to think so.

    More importantly, the captured estrazi defer to Khan. When food or water are offered, they don¡¯t eat until he has taken a bite or sip. At night, they make sure he has at least three blankets, even if it means one or two go without adequate cover. They even groom him, though I didn¡¯t understand that¡¯s what they meant by combing through his hair with their four-fingered hands until Bell clarified their intentions.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Khan is valued. More so than the servants. Normally, not surprising, as servants aren¡¯t normally valued much, but that is a human standard.

    From what little my succubi could gleam from them, the estrazi do not think much of humans. It isn¡¯t the hatred I would imagine from a group that has been slaughtering the armies of the north for centuries. More of a general disdain. The closest comparison I could make is to the view most nobles have of peasants. A strong sense of superiority, whether it¡¯s deserved or not.

    Yet, despite this view, whoever sent this group after Khan told them to prioritize his life over theirs. Strange. And very telling.

    Dragons, a new intelligent race, and family drama. It¡¯s all very exciting but, at the end of the day, a little more than I bargained for. More than anyone bargained for. Not even Alana wants to be any more involved. Once the initial interrogations are complete, she does her best to pretend her brother and our reptilian captives don¡¯t exist.

    The situation persists over the two weeks it takes us to return to Victory. Alana was serious when she said we were picking up the pace. I laugh at the Squiddies¡¯ protests when they tire after the third day of the rapid pace and are put on the shoulders of some of the knights. Probably the worst part of the campaign for some of them. Though the leader, I think his name is Will, took the arrangements in stride, pacifying the others¡¯ irritation through example.

    We encounter threats, a few days more than long enough for the copious number of monsters in the north to move into the recently cleared territory we passed through, but nothing as terrible as the goliath and the reapers. Just a few random manabeasts. Some of them choose to run off rather than fight us, mostly a fluffy fox-looking creature we find chewing on the remains we left behind.

    There¡¯s a moment of tension as we skirt the body of the goliath. We left most of the giant beast behind and something had decided to make a meal of it. Something that is still eating weeks later, defending the meat from multiple scavengers. Kierra seems unnerved as she comes back from scouting the area to report it. She says it¡¯s a wyvern, which are close relatives to dragons. A ridiculously large one. That breathes lightning.

    Not something anyone fights for fun, even my crazy elf.

    Despite it all, we manage to return to Victory without any problems. Unlike the first time I rode up to the walls, there is no delay in the door being opened. The moment we pass the barrier representing the territory of humanity, we are met by cheers. Loud, joyous congratulations and battle cries. The people of Victory celebrating the return of their warriors.

    I¡¯m startled alongside the acolytes, this being my first time experiencing such raw adulation. The more experienced hunters are unbothered. The knights are unexpectedly excited by the cheers. They roar back, raising their weapons and throwing random bouts of weak magic into the air. The group walking next to the wagon with the goliath¡¯s head, our trophy for the campaign, are particularly vocal, as they draw the most attention.

    And Alana¡­she¡¯s smiling. She¡¯s startled at first, also being unused to the attention, but then her lips curl and her eyes soften. It¡¯s another expression I¡¯ve never seen from her and far too profound to describe with simple words. Every time I look at her, I find my voice deserting me. I can¡¯t bring myself to intrude on what has to be an important moment.

    Unfortunately, it doesn¡¯t last. As we near her family home, her smile fades. Five people are waiting by the gate of sculpted. The duke, his wives, his daughter, and the odd one out, Alana¡¯s mother. It would be quite the picturesque scene, a powerful lord surrounded by beauties, if not for their grim expressions. Despite the cheering following in our wake, the James family is not in a celebratory mood. Likely because they are expecting Alana to share a horrific casualty count.

    Except there isn¡¯t one. Something Alana was quite happy about. I can imagine her proudly walking up to her father, presenting her trophy, and declaring she¡¯d managed it without losing a single life. I wonder if it¡¯d be enough to break his stern mask. It would have been a beautiful moment. One we won¡¯t get to see now.

    While there hasn¡¯t been any loss of life, she does have bad news to share. The betrayal of her brother, the duke¡¯s son. No matter how cold he is on the outside, I can¡¯t imagine him not being hurt. Worse, it¡¯s a pain he doesn¡¯t see coming. The duke is already accustomed to the pain of losing loved ones but, from what I can gather, betrayal doesn¡¯t happen here. They¡¯re too busy fighting the monsters to plot against each other. On the rare occasion there is trouble, they handle it in straightforward duels. Never through deception.

    The poor bastard can¡¯t even defend himself. When his father asks Khan why he sided with the estrazi, he won¡¯t be able to remember because he surrendered his mind to a mental caster. All he can spout is nonsense about a seer telling him to save the world. If I was the duke, it wouldn¡¯t stop me from beating him half to death and northerners make me look nice.

    I wonder if mentioning the dragon scale is overkill? It¡¯d be horrible if our vacation ends with Alana¡¯s father having a heart attack. Thankfully, my wife is a very capable healer.

 ARC 6-Winter War-127

    ¡°The victors return home. The fallen march on to meet the ancestors.¡±

    That is how the duke of Victory greets his daughter as she stops before him. Then the northerners all bow their heads, holding the gesture for several long moments. Paying their respects, I suppose. Must be traditional because there are no dead to pay respects to this time around. I contemplate joining them but, knowing how seriously the northerners take their traditions and the trouble the last group that took them lightly ended up in, I abstain. The other outsiders join me in my awkwardness, some less awkward than others having already experienced this before.

    ¡°Father.¡± After a minute, the silence ends and the northerners spring into action. Civilians and servants swarm the wagons, laying down thick blankets. The knights get busy unloading our spoils but the area surrounding the James family is a spot of stillness. ¡°We should speak inside.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Not going to flaunt that trophy of yours?¡± Kalise says, jerking her head in the direction of the wagon holding the goliath head. ¡°What a shame, papa cat. She¡¯s the first that didn¡¯t come running to show off to daddy. Are you disappointed?¡±

    The duke¡¯s expression doesn¡¯t twitch as he stares at Alana. She swallows before glancing toward me. Geneva. Bring the goods.

    The wagon holding our captives is separate from the others. For their safety, Alana limited contact between them and the rest of the army. Victory doesn¡¯t have prisons or dungeons. They don¡¯t take prisoners. Rumors of Khan¡¯s betrayal and monster sympathy spread with the usual speed of such things. With us refusing to give any details, the knights came to their own conclusions, and those conclusions led to murderous thoughts. Thankfully, they are a disciplined group, so it didn¡¯t come to us having to beat them back, but a little distance was best for everyone.

    As Geneva walks the bound Khan up to us, his mother¡¯s smile wanes, replaced by a confused frown. ¡°Why is my son bound?¡±

    ¡°A conversation we should have inside.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª"

    The duke places a hand on her shoulder. The barbarian shrugs it off and glares at him.

    ¡°Kalise,¡± Eleanor says. ¡°Don¡¯t make a scene.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t¡ª" She bites her lip under the pressure of two stern gazes. Then her eyes move to Khan, flicking over him. I don¡¯t need my succubi to know she¡¯s checking him for injuries. She may be crude and violent but it seems she¡¯s a bit of a doting mother. Only after her visual examination is complete does she relent, huffing as she turns and stomps toward the house.

    Khan doesn¡¯t look happy for her concern. The opposite. He slumps once her eyes fall on him, refusing to lift his head. If an artist wanted to paint the word guilty, he would make an excellent model. He¡¯s having a lot of trouble with his betrayal. Really makes me wonder what he experienced that would make him do it in the first place.

    ¡°You must be hungry. Come. I¡¯ve had food prepared.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Father.¡±

    The celebratory mood of the rest of the army is left behind as we enter the house. A meal has been prepared as promised. It¡¯s all cold but I suppose meat that isn¡¯t jerky, soft rolls, and fruit would be as welcome as a royal banquet to a returning army. If we were any other army. To me, it¡¯s as appetizing as travel rations. Still, I add a few bites to a plate and nibble on them to hide from the tension in the room.

    ¡°Time you tell us what this is about, Alana,¡± Kalise grumbles, ignoring the food. No pet names. I note it as a sign that she¡¯s serious.

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her eyes move to her mother, who slipped into the seat at the end of the table with impressive aplomb considering that she is very much hated by most of the people at this table. Roza meets Alana¡¯s gaze and holds it. ¡°This is a conversation for James.¡±

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    ¡°The southern sun hasn¡¯t melted your northern heart, sweetheart.¡± Her mother turns to the duke. ¡°What do you think, my lord? Is the mother of your daughter not family?¡±

    I fully expect him to send her away but, to my surprise, the duke grunts in acknowledgment. ¡°Speak.¡±

    My future saint doesn¡¯t look happy speaking in front of Roza but her father has the last word in the north. Besides that, Kalise looks like she is at the end of her patience, her eyes continuously flicking to the bound Khan seated beside Kierra. Alana takes a deep breath before speaking quickly. ¡°I have not spoken before the family often but I want you all to be aware that I value my word like any James and understand the weight they have. I hope we don¡¯t waste time wondering whether or not you can trust me or suspecting some kind of agenda¡ª"

    ¡°Get on with it!¡± the barbarian snaps, visibly bristling.

    ¡°Calm,¡± Kierra says. They lock gazes, two predators sizing each other up. The danger of offending my wife is the prodding Kalise needs to come back to herself. Taking a deep breath, she settles into her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

    Alana is obviously fighting a bout of nerves as she continues. ¡°On the night I made the decision to return to Victory, Khan entered my shelter. He warned us that a storm was heading our way and we should delay marching for a day.¡±

    We agreed that it¡¯d be better not to discuss the estrazi and the possible world-ending threat they are either nurturing or guarding. The duke will learn of them but it¡¯d be better for us to let Khan tell that story. We want distance from this whole mess. Honestly, all of Victory should be keeping their distance from whatever is in the north but that isn¡¯t going to happen.

    ¡°I delayed our march, resting my army for a day. On the morning we departed, we were ambushed by an enemy force. Archers fired arrows laced with poison while invisible scouts charged the army. Their objective was to retrieve Khan.¡±

    ¡°Oi.¡± Kalise gets to her feet, followed by Kierra. The barbarian spares the elf a look as her hands ball at her sides. ¡°I see why you gave that pretty speech now. If you weren¡¯t a member of this family and said what you said, I would have thrown you into a wall. As it is, you get one chance. Say what you mean.¡±

    ¡°Khan has been colluding with an enemy force beyond Victory. Knowing or unknowingly, he led us into an ambush. As I said, the enemies¡¯ purpose was to retrieve him. He is undoubtedly connected to them, though I don¡¯t know to what extent.¡±

    There is silence for several moments as Kalise bows her head, processing the accusation. As we marched back to Victory, I wondered if his son¡¯s betrayal would be enough to shatter the duke¡¯s mask. I looked forward to it. Now, that the event has come to pass, I feel none of the excitement I thought I might watching the icy facade melt. It is not a pretty sight. Somehow, all the quiet wrath of a northern storm is contained in the furrow of his brows and the curl of his lips. Alana¡¯s father is furious but that isn¡¯t enough to make him lose control.

    Interestingly, the person I would expect to have the fiercest reaction, Eleanor, is not boiling over with rage or taking the time to lord it over her rival. She¡¯s nervous, which is rather disturbing. Her blue eyes, pale as ice chips, bounce between Kalise and her husband with obvious hesitancy. She seems reluctant to enter this vipers¡¯ nest of a conversation and I don¡¯t blame her. Always knew she was smart.

    There is also someone who is not so smart at this table. Someone who does take the opportunity to needle the wife that¡¯s barely holding herself back.

    ¡°Your father warned you about marrying outside of the north, didn¡¯t he, my lord?¡± Roza says, lazily chewing a bite of fruit. ¡°The two of you had quite the fight. He said you had no respect for tradition. You said¡ª"

    ¡°Traditions change,¡± the duke growls.

    ¡°I imagine this isn¡¯t the change you imagined.¡±

    ¡°Shut your fecking mouth, you useless cock juggler!¡±

    ¡°Better than a traitorous southern pig,¡± Roza throws back, unphased by the insult. Given that Kalise looks ready to rip her head from her shoulders, that¡¯s impressive. Alana¡¯s mother certainly has a stiff spine. ¡°Khan has always been a coward, hasn¡¯t he? Always clung to his mother. Despite his weak will, I can¡¯t see him colluding with enemies on his own. At the behest of his overbearing mammy, however¡­¡±

    ¡°Stop.¡±

    Khan¡¯s voice is soft but firm, drawing the room¡¯s attention. He raises his head. After several stressful days of barely sleeping and poor meals, he looks rough. The fear in his features and the tension in his shoulders doesn¡¯t help. His gaze is resolute though. ¡°My mother had nothing to do with this. Do not involve her.¡±

    ¡°She is involved. We are all involved.¡± The duke rises from his chair. He takes a single step toward Khan but Kalise steps in front of him. One of her hands rises but she stops before touching his chest. The anger around him is enough to keep her at bay. ¡°Move.¡±

    Kalise babbles in a language I don¡¯t recognize, which is strange since the kingdom only has one language, Common, which she eventually switches back to. ¡°¡ªplease. Let him speak. You know our son.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing he can say that will excuse his sin. I have changed some traditions but there are some things that will never change.¡±

    ¡°Please, Erenhart.¡±

    ¡°¡­move.¡±

    At the second command, Kalise takes two stiff steps aside. The duke doesn¡¯t move, a little of the tension in his face easing after she backs down. ¡°He will speak to me.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-128

    Seated amongst the angry duke, the anxious Kalise, the stoic Eleanor, the quiet Ariza, the nervous Yulia, the sneering Roza, the tense Alana, the somewhat disinterested Kierra, and the very guilty looking Khan, I don¡¯t see this ending well.

    From the looks these people exchange, no one would assume they¡¯re family. The duke looks one second from strangling his son, the most emotion I¡¯ve ever seen from him. Only the hovering of Kalise keeps his homicidal anger at bay but the ties of affection will not hold him back for long.

    ¡°Explain yourself.¡± His tone leaves no doubt that this is Khan¡¯s only chance to save himself some pain. Not save himself. I don¡¯t think that¡¯s possible. The people of Victory are not known for being merciful. This is the man who casually sanctioned actions that could lead to the first war in the history of Harvest, just for the sake of tradition. I can¡¯t imagine what he¡¯ll do to someone who has truly offended him or endangered his territory.

    ¡°What I did, I did for the good of the north.¡±

    The air grows tenser as the duke waits for Khan to offer more¡­and he doesn¡¯t.

    With the hesitance of someone turning their back on a growling wolf, Kalise turns her back on her husband to kneel at her son¡¯s side. Her voice is low but the harsh whisper is still easy to distinguish with my ears. ¡°What are you doing? Say something.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Boy, you tell me what is going on right now, or with all the ancestors and elders as my witnesses, I will¡ª"

    ¡°I can¡¯t, Mammy,¡± Khan hisses back, raising his head. ¡°I can¡¯t give you any details. I just know that I had to stop Alana¡¯s army from going into that storm and the estrazi are not our enemies.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t. You¡­can¡¯t.¡± I see the moment Kalise understands. I can practically see the hope shining out of her eyes as she jumps to her feet, gaze snapping to me. ¡°You! Your creatures, they use the mental affinity, don¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°They do.¡±

    ¡°And you have complete control over them?¡±

    ¡°I can save you the time,¡± Alana interrupts. ¡°I already had Lou investigate what you suspect. There is evidence that Khan¡¯s mind has been tampered with. When he says he can¡¯t tell us why and how he is involved with these enemies he calls the estrazi, he means he is truly incapable of it.¡±

    Relief. Kalise lets out a big sigh. If her husband wasn¡¯t glaring so strongly, she might have smiled. ¡°I knew it. My boy is no traitor. These¡­esuawhats stuck their mucky fingers in his brain. It¡¯s not his fault. You see that.¡±

    She turns to the duke¡­who slowly relaxes.

    ¡°No!¡± Khan shouts at his parents. ¡°It isn¡¯t like that. I wanted this. I told them to take the information. They aren¡¯t monsters.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t trust anything that comes out of his mouth.¡± Eleanor also looks relieved. ¡°The best thing to do is put him in a room and limit his contact with the fort. There is no telling what commands his attackers have implanted in his mind.¡±

    Roza huffs. ¡°I agree. There is no point in even questioning him when all the answers have been prepared by the enemy.¡±

    Khan continues shouting at people who aren¡¯t acknowledging a thing he says. ¡°You need to listen to me. This is not a ploy. The estrazi are guardians. They have bigger concerns than a war Harvest started. They are protecting us, protecting the world¡ª"

    His mouth continues to move but nothing comes out. He pauses, seeing no one reacting, hand going to his throat. The duke¡¯s eyes glow. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Khan is slammed into the floor. I can see him wiggling, trying to stand, but his efforts amount to nothing.

    ¡°Bulliard.¡±

    The gray-haired manservant enters the room. His eyes flick over the room, taking in the situation but his features show no reaction. ¡°My lord?¡±

    ¡°Khan has been¡­compromised. Take him to an empty room. Bind his wrists and ankles. Cover his eyes and ears. Watch over him and report to me if he does anything questionable.¡±

    ¡°As you say, my lord.¡± He wastes no time in crossing the room and kneeling besides Khan. An arm goes around the younger man¡¯s neck, squeezing until he loses consciousness, all without making a sound.

    ¡°What exactly do you hope to accomplish?¡± Roza questions as Khan is shrugged onto the servant¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Our mental casters are only versed in dispelling the allures of vividares and forcing oaths on criminals. They cannot undue¡­how would you describe it?¡±

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    Alana narrows her eyes at her mother. It¡¯s quite obvious that she is seeking the worst solution to the Khan problem and enlisting her daughter¡¯s help. She doesn¡¯t want to help but there¡¯s nothing she can say to make this better. ¡°Lou?¡±

    Ah. Suppose that¡¯s one solution. Way to pass the snake, sweetie. ¡°According to my succubus, parts of his memory have been torn away. The damage is extensive and complicated.¡±

    Alana¡¯s mother hums. ¡°That sounds far beyond anything our people are capable of. Perhaps because anyone who falls so deeply under a mental allure that they act against their comrades is put down before they become a problem.¡± She lazily takes another bite of fruit, ignoring Kalise¡¯s growing hostility. ¡°Though I suppose an exception must be made for the duke¡¯s son.¡±

    Despite what she says, her words are not a plea of mercy. They are a provocation and everyone at the table knows it from the way they flinch. ¡°Mother!¡± Alana shouts in reprimand, but the damage has been done.

    ¡°No exceptions are being made.¡± The duke watches as his manservant leaves the room. ¡°There is only one fate for the enemies of Victory.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª"

    ¡°Khan owes his life to Victory.¡± The duke cuts the newly distraught mother off without mercy. ¡°But he serves this family more with his continued life than with a quick execution. The enemy took him. Every member of the James family has ventured beyond the Peaks but they chose him. I want to know why. I want to know why they value him¡­and I want to know if we can use that against them as they have deigned to use him against us.¡±

    ¡°Use him?!¡± Kalise grabs the duke by his collar. ¡°What do you mean use him? Someone cracked open our son¡¯s head and stirred it and the only thing you¡¯re thinking about is using him?! He needs healers, not¡ª"

    She cuts off abruptly as her wrists are grasped. She grits her teeth as she struggles against her husband but doesn¡¯t stand a chance. The duke removes her hands from his shirt. They glare at each other for several long moments before Kalise pulls out of his grip and storms away, knocking a chair away as she passes. Ariza, who has been quiet as the scared mouse she is, flinches at the bang it makes as it slams against the wall.

    The next surprise comes from Yulia, who rises from her chair to chase after her. Eleanor watches her dramatic exit. For a moment, I think she¡¯ll join her daughter, but she turns away, frowning as she straightens in her chair.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    I jump. Saints, I think that¡¯s the first time the duke has addressed me so casually. It¡¯s extra unsettling because there is no friendliness in his tone.

    ¡°Be direct. Can my son be healed?¡±

    Geneva?

    [¡­I¡¯m not sure.]

    You¡¯re not sure.

    [I must remind you I am not infallible. Whoever did the work on his mind was powerful and thorough. His memories were not shrouded or fragmented. They were erased. Are there traces lurking in his subconscious that I could reconstruct them from? Perhaps. Perhaps the attempt will turn him into a babbling lunatic, as recreating false memories could forever alter him. I am not sure.]

    Oi. If you can¡¯t do it, who can? Isn¡¯t he doomed?

    [I don¡¯t know.]

    Then that¡¯s the answer. And it¡¯s what I tell the duke. ¡°I don¡¯t know. There is no guarantee my succubus can recover his memories and there is a chance she can make things worse trying.¡±

    ¡°How strong is your elemental?¡±

    ¡°She has lifetimes of experience and a coefficient that would make the masters of the kingdom blush in envy. I find it hard to imagine anyone more capable.¡± Unless there is the equivalent of Kierra with the mental affinity somewhere in the elven provinces. Don¡¯t know how the duke would entice such a person to help so they may as well not exist.

    ¡°Many have called our crusade against the north hopeless and yet we march every year. A chance is more than enough. Tonight, you will write a report about everything you can recover from Khan¡¯s mind. Then you will work to recover the stolen memories. Regardless of the consequences.¡±

    How long would that take Geneva?

    [An hour. A week. A month. A year. A decade. The mind is endlessly complex. Despite my many years, I don¡¯t dare to claim I understand it in its entirety.]

    I turn to Alana. There is no way we are staying here for a year while her father pokes sleeping dragons. I don¡¯t want to be anywhere near these reckless northerners led by a father taking revenge for his son. Not to mention putting a face to their eternal enemies is sure to stir the knights into a frenzy. But someone else needs to say it. Or at least, I want her to say it.

    Alana swallows heavily as she gathers her courage. ¡°Father. We have other responsibilities. There is the March to consider and we are due to return to the Hall in the spring.¡±

    ¡°The March is Victory¡¯s debt to settle, not yours alone. We will need the resources. Your studies are important but there are plenty here that can teach you. Your brother¡¯s treatment is paramount. Inside is mind is critical information about an enemy that could be plotting against us right now.¡±

    ¡°Lou is a summer noble so she has too much tact. What she should have said is that there¡¯s the same chance of recovering Khan¡¯s memories as the Peaks thawing. As for our enemies, nothing has changed. Whatever information they received from Khan, they¡¯ve had for years. There is no imminent threat. We should be building our strength rather than rushing into an enemy we hardly understand.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I do not need your presence, merely the elemental. You can return to Quest without the succubus.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± I declare, standing from my seat. I¡¯m sorry, I want to let Alana take charge of our dealings in Victory but this is going too far. ¡°My succubus stays with me.¡± And I am not staying here.

    My future father-in-law levels a glare at me. ¡°Your abilities are needed. This is not a question.¡±

    His voice is full of expectation. I am needed so I will perform. There is no other choice. Except there is. ¡°I don¡¯t take orders from you.¡±

    ¡°¡­no. I suppose you do not.¡±

    Together, we both turn to the one I do take orders from. Alana swallows heavily. ¡°I¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course they¡¯ll stay.¡±

    Roza once again interrupts calmly, though she¡¯s wearing a smile. ¡°Victory is facing an unprecedented threat from the north. Khan¡¯s condition will reflect badly on the family. Zach has embarrassed himself for the last time and will dedicate himself to joining the Moons as he always should have. Yulianna is an empty-headed fool.¡±

    ¡°You should be careful with your words,¡± Eleanor bites out, offended on behalf of her children.

    ¡°I¡¯m merely speaking the thoughts others are too scared to say. If the knights are going to keep their faith in the James, at least one of your heirs will have to show some respectability.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-129

    ¡°Is this¡­really the time to speak about this?¡± Ariza asks hesitantly. ¡°We should be focusing on helping Khan. Poor boy.¡±

    ¡°Roza has never been one for tact,¡± Eleanor adds but Alana¡¯s mother is unphased.

    ¡°There is no time to waste and Alana isn¡¯t the only one who needs to prove herself to the people, my lord.¡± Roza¡¯s face remains stoic but her voice reveals her growing excitement. ¡°Khan¡¯s actions reflect badly on you particularly. Your judgment. There were many that said you should have exiled Khan when he refused to fight in the campaigns. If you had, none of this would have happened. People will remember that.¡±

    ¡°They will also remember the blood I have spilled for Victory,¡± the duke grumbles unhappily.

    ¡°Yes. That is why they will not behead you for incompetence. However, if you want them to follow you, and you need them to follow you without question, then you should do something to earn that trust. Having one of your potential heirs betraying Victory to the enemy is devastating to your and this family¡¯s reputation. Having your named heiress apprehend her own brother to protect Victory¡­that is inspirational.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°There is no better choice, my lord.¡±

    ¡°It¡ª"

    ¡°Wait a minute!¡± Alana slaps the table angrily as she stands up. ¡°The two of you need to stop deciding things for me!¡± She takes a deep breath before continuing. ¡°Let¡¯s get something straightened out. I don¡¯t want to be and have no intentions of becoming duchess.¡±

    That gets her parents¡¯ attention. Especially her mother¡¯s. Her stern facade shatters like a fist put through glass. ¡°Sweetheart, you¡ª"

    ¡°I told you not to call me that,¡± she snaps. ¡°Father, Lou and I will do what we can while we¡¯re here. Of course, that means writing a report that contains everything we know. What we won¡¯t be doing is wasting our time here trying to accomplish the impossible. We have our own plans and they do not include a reckless charge against enemies who are more informed and, given Victory¡¯s many losses, stronger than we are.¡±

    ¡°And if I were to make it an order?¡± her father questions.

    ¡°¡­you¡¯ll just be making a hard situation harder.¡±

    ¡°Alana,¡± her mother hisses. ¡°Do you understand what you¡¯re saying?¡±

    ¡°I do. I think I¡¯m the only one who does understand the situation. I¡¯m also not the only one trying to push my own agenda.¡±

    ¡°My agenda is the future of Victory,¡± the duke says gruffly. ¡°It is my primary concern. It must always be my primary concern. If that is not something you can understand, then perhaps you are right to refuse the role of leadership.¡±

    She flinches at the words. I restrain the urge to grab her hand for comfort.

    ¡°I cannot force you or your bannerwoman to follow orders. That is not our way. The chance of recovering Khan¡¯s memories is close to impossible. Someone who is not completely dedicated to a cause cannot challenge the impossible. All my heirs must make their own decisions. And those decisions have consequences.¡±

    He moves toward the door without sparing anyone else a glance. ¡°I¡¯ll expect your report in the morning. As well as your answer.¡± He sweeps from the room, leaving tense air in his wake. Ariza almost leaps from her chair in her haste to follow, Eleanor trailing them at a more sedate pace. I suppose the duke always has the last word.

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    Alana drops into her chair, covering her face with her hands as she takes slow breaths. Her shaking shoulders are nearly imperceptible.

    I quietly move behind her and gently rub her back. That had to be hard. Harder than anything she¡¯s ever done. And she did it for me. For us. She chose us. The question always lingered in the back of my mind and now I have my answer. Are there a few lingering doubts, like whether she¡¯s doing this because the dragon scale we found scares her more than her father? Yes, but I¡¯m ignoring them. I choose to believe this is an act of love and nothing will convince me otherwise.

    ¡°You little idiot.¡±

    Alana doesn¡¯t look up but I turn to her mother. Her deeply frowning mother who is very upset but still trying to control herself. Her face speaks of anger but her voice holds confusion. ¡°We¡¯d finally done it. Victory was right there for the taking. All you had to do was say yes and you would be Duchess Alana James of Victory in a decade or less. A decade, Alana, and you are the most powerful woman in the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°True power has nothing to do with a title,¡± Alana mumbles through her palms.

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s something the Hall has taught you,¡± her mother says sarcastically. ¡°A place where all are equal in the pursuit of magic. But you know very well, daughter, that people are not equal. A last name is the difference between a ruler and a servant. A last name is the difference between a girl marrying into power or working her fingers to the bone for the slightest amount of influence. A last name is the difference between being born with talent or being destined to be trash. I thought experiencing the harsh reality of servitude would make you appreciate your last name, give you a little ambition. I couldn¡¯t have predicted that the daughter between me and that cold bastard would be silly enough to give it all away for a fling.¡±

    A fling? I suppose that is supposed to be me. Funny, she had no complaints about our relationship when she thought I was useful to helping her daughter succeed the family.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about this now.¡±

    One look is enough to tell me that Alana isn¡¯t ready for round two against her family, even if she hadn¡¯t spoken. I think this is when I make the command decision to intervene.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I whisper as I help Alana to her feet. She, no, we need space.

    ¡°May I ask what your plan is, Lady Tome?¡± Her mother continues, tone growing harsher with every word. ¡°What glorious future have you enthralled her with to invalidate two separate lifetimes of effort? Better than being the queen of the north? Because frankly, I can¡¯t imagine it.¡±

    ¡°Maybe because you have a very limited imagination,¡± I return. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. Constant dreary skies and endless snow don¡¯t exactly stoke the creative spirit. I can think of a hundred better fates than being stuck in this place.¡±

    ¡°A hundred?¡± Kierra says, also rising from her chair. She comes around the table to stand at Alana¡¯s other side. She doesn¡¯t put out a hand to support her, more sensitive to my future saint¡¯s stoicism than me, but her hovering says she¡¯s ready to in a moment. ¡°I can think of a thousand.¡± She gives Roza a dismissive glance. ¡°Your presence makes it rather easy.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. I¡¯m sure the foreigner has better plans for a daughter of the north than leading her people. If I remember, your people still had your home after the Great War. I wonder if you can even understand what it means to struggle against an enemy for five centuries. I wonder, with your pure affinity and your last name, if you understand struggle at all.¡±

    This woman is so completely wrong, I can¡¯t even laugh at her. Elves live for nothing but struggle, though they revel in it. She thinks Kierra¡¯s life hasn¡¯t been hard? She spent two decades alone after being ripped from her life, imprisoned by her own mother who was more than willing to hold her captive indefinitely. Given my wife¡¯s affinity, that could have truly been forever. A fact she was very aware of.

    I wouldn¡¯t blame my elf for laughing in the woman¡¯s face. Or slapping her for the insult. She does not like when people make light of the trials the elves faced during the Great War. I know nobles who would do a lot worse for a lot less.

    For Alana¡¯s sake, I have to assume, Kierra lets the vindictive words run off her. Roza does not take the leniency with grace. ¡°Decades of effort. Seducing that block of ice Erenhart. Pulling strings to get you noticed after his beloved son died. Building support for you amongst the laborers, as there was no way the oh so superior knights would support you over Eleanor¡¯s children. All to give you the best. And you throw it away.¡±

    ¡°I used to want the same thing as you, mother,¡± Alana mutters. ¡°Because I thought it was the best thing for me. Now I know there¡¯s something better.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. Being a low noble¡¯s mistress. Quite the future you¡¯ve made for yourself. I am practically bursting with pride.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re leaving,¡± I hiss, grabbing Alana¡¯s arm and pulling her toward the door.

 ARC 6-Winter War-130

    ¡°How did it come to this¡­¡±

    That¡¯s the question I want to ask. Our journey to the north was meant to be a simple thing. The equivalent of the social hunts in Summer Spire, where people of far more status than ability ride around in their well-furnished carriages, drinking the day away while servants and guards do their hunting for them.

    They bring back a nice trophy to show off to their friends while recounting the life-threatening heroics they never performed. Pretty men and women fawn over them and thoughtless peasants believe the exaggerated rumors they purposely spread to bolster their reputations in order to counter the likely much more true negative rumors surrounding them.

    That should have been me. I enjoy a pleasant walk through the scenic snow with Alana, build a nice little love nest for us to enjoy for winters to come along with some tall walls and fortified buildings for the knights to stay in, and then win the favor of her family before returning with plenty of war stories to bolster my reputation. We return to our home at the Grand Hall with fond memories and no trouble.

    How far we¡¯ve come from that. Our pleasant walk became a slog through a horrible, monster-infested wasteland. Monsters I thoroughly underestimated. Monsters that are actual threats. I didn¡¯t think anything on this continent could challenge me. Heh, if I¡¯m being honest, I might have thought there were few things in the world that could threaten me now. I was very wrong.

    So, not the easy-going stroll I thought it would be. Far more stressful than I anticipated. Worse, we had to abandon any thoughts of building anything in the north after learning of the delicate peace enforced by the Lords of Winter, the estrazi. A group we know little about. A situation that has potential implications for the safety of the world if the vague warnings of Khan are to be believed.

    There¡¯s also little chance of impressing her family. Oh, I¡¯m sure our strength works strongly in our favor. Unfortunately, I¡¯m sure that is going to be overshadowed by the fact that I¡¯m dragging away the duke¡¯s daughter. Alana chose her life with me over her duty to her family. Maybe not forever. I¡¯m sure with some time, training, and more information, she¡¯d be more than willing to fight alongside her father. Too bad he isn¡¯t offering those things. The duke demands immediate and unquestioned loyalty. He also does not strike me as the forgiving type.

    I won¡¯t even mention her mother. That is a thorny relationship if I¡¯ve ever seen one. If I were the understanding type, I¡¯d say the harsh words she flung at her daughter were said in the heat of the moment, a product of shock and hurt having her ambitions for her daughter, a noble¡¯s love, rejected. I¡¯m not very understanding. In my eyes, she seems like a manipulative, bitter bitch but I keep my opinion to myself. Alana has a complicated relationship with her mother. One I am not confident probing without protection, or at least a healthy amount of caution.

    I sigh beside her, sprawled out on my back atop her bed. We¡¯ve been lying here since the disastrous conversation, trying to relax. It hasn¡¯t worked. Alana might as well be a wooden board. Kierra left to bring back drinks, having become fed up with the tense silence. She¡¯s going to bludgeon Alana¡¯s feelings until she loses the battle to keep her composure. Before that happens, I have a different approach in mind.

    ¡°What do you think about going to Dusk next year?¡±

    Alana turns to look at me from the corner of her eye. ¡°Dusk? Kierra¡¯s home, right?¡±

    ¡°Mm. I¡¯ve been saying we should visit. We didn¡¯t get the chance to stay long after the wedding and I should spend some time getting to know her family.¡± No matter how anxiety-inducing the thought is.

    ¡°Speaking of families, I still haven¡¯t met yours.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t missing out on much.¡±

    She huffs. ¡°That¡¯s a terrible way to talk about your father.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± I reconsider my words given the most recent encounter with her parents. ¡°My father isn¡¯t a bad man. He also isn¡¯t a great man. Truly, he is quite the average man with an above average interest in his passion. And our relationship is also average. Ah, for nobles. Which as I¡¯m sure you know means we barely interacted. Hard to find something to brag about.¡±

    ¡°¡­you don¡¯t talk about your mother much.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because there¡¯s even less to talk about there.¡± I shift, feeling a sudden bout of uncomfortableness. Alana stops my fiddling by turning on her side and throwing an arm over my stomach. I really don¡¯t like talking about this but, given I want her to open up, it can¡¯t hurt for me to do the same.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a long story. When my father was not a grumpy, old man, he attended the Grand Hall to further his career as a summoner. There he met a lovely young woman who had failed at being a caster and thought to try her luck with summoning. Which, according to Father, is the way the Summoner Hall gets most of its attending acolytes.

    As a traditional summoner, he wowed her with his knowledge, or so he says. Managed to convince a woman to sleep with him without a financial exchange being involved, or so he says. Makes me wonder what kind of pervert my mother was.¡±

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°She did give birth to you.¡±

    I poke her in the chest as she chuckles. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to deny that. You need some advice on how to sweet talk women.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and you¡¯re an expert?¡±

    ¡°I seduced you, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her smile wanes. ¡°What happened?¡±

    I wouldn¡¯t have protested if she let the conversation change directions but I suppose that is too much to ask for. I move closer to her, hoping the comfort will quiet the itch in my heart. ¡°The danger of summoning doesn¡¯t come from the elementals. With the right knowledge, preparation, and caution, a summoner can handle anything that appears in their circle. Things go wrong when they become overconfident. Overestimating yourself, thinking you can handle something you¡¯re not prepared for, is what gets you in trouble.

    ¡°Apparently, my mother was too ambitious for her own good. A common sin but deadly when put together with overconfidence and summoning. To this day, Father refuses to tell me what she was trying to contract. Knowing most amateur summoners, it was big and powerful. Big and powerful usually means either conniving or aggressive. It¡¯s a rare thing that strong elementals are peaceful. Rolly is one in a million. My succubi are the norm. Ah, well. They¡¯re a little worse than usual.¡± Saints, I¡¯m rambling.

    ¡°To make this sad story short, Father got my poor mother pregnant but refused to marry her. Didn¡¯t change his mind after she gave birth. That must have driven her a little crazy because she summoned something she really shouldn¡¯t have. All I know is that she walked into a room and didn¡¯t come out. Thankfully, Father proved to have a heart and took me in.¡± I shrug. ¡°And that¡¯s all I know.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it? Don¡¯t¡­the two of you ever talk about her? What she liked or¡ª"

    ¡°Father isn¡¯t a very warm person,¡± I interrupt. ¡°We don¡¯t hug, we don¡¯t write each other letters, and we never discuss our feelings unless it¡¯s how much we hate, or hated, the Grimoires. I¡­I don¡¯t know if he loved her but they were close at some point. Talking about how his abandoning her, at least romantically, stirred her into a reckless summoning and left me without a mother makes him more uncomfortable than it makes me.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± A thick silence brews between us until she puts a hand on my head, awkwardly patting me. Thankfully, it only takes a few seconds before she reverts to the more natural motion of running her fingers through my hair. ¡°My mother is the opposite of cold. When I was younger, we were always together. Even for all her work. Cooking meals, doing laundry, cleaning houses. We shared a bed and she told stories about heroes. And my father.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°The way she talked about him, Lou. She made him sound like the greatest man to ever walk the north. She managed to frame me being a bastard as a blessing. It wasn¡¯t his fault we lived in a communal house for servants. Tradition kept him from accepting us and bringing us to live in his nice, big house. But when I proved myself, I could be his daughter. A James.

    ¡°She¡­may seem callous but she believes it, Lou. Everything she says. Being a James, being duchess, means everything to her. It is the best future she can imagine. And¡­maybe she wants that for herself, deep down.¡± Ooh. Glad I don¡¯t have to broach that toxic topic. ¡°Maybe she prayed day and night that I¡¯d be her way to power and status. But it¡¯s better than her telling me I¡¯d never do anything greater than buffing armor. Or¡­encouraging me to follow in her footsteps.¡±

    Saints, I can¡¯t imagine it. Although, imagining a seductress Alana isn¡¯t bad. Not bad at all.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking something indecent right now, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°No. What do you take me for? We¡¯re having a moment.¡±

    The hand in my hair gives a little tug. ¡°On top of being easy to read, you are a horrible liar.¡±

    ¡°Can we go back to bonding over our questionable childhoods?¡±

    She chuckles but the sound doesn¡¯t contain much humor. ¡°There isn¡¯t much more to tell. I thought I would have to prove myself in the campaigns to be recognized by my father. The Moons test every child during their twelfth year, eager to find every talented soldier they can. My mother was with me when we found out about my light affinity. That very day, she marched me to the James estate. I waited with Bulliard while she tried to see my father.¡±

    ¡°Tried?¡±

    ¡°Eleanor stopped her.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Don¡¯t need her to elaborate, I can easily imagine that conversation. Didn¡¯t Alana say Eleanor used to be meaner? Saints.

    ¡°Yeah, ah. We went home very quickly. My mother tried not to let me see but she was¡­unhappy. And then completely shocked when a servant asked us to come to the house a few days later. I have never seen her as happy as when my father agreed to give me the James name and officially recognize me. She was moved to tears.

    ¡°Of course seeing her that happy made me happy. And when I was told that I couldn¡¯t stay in the house, I was devastated. I thought it was my fault, as I¡¯d been taught all my life that a James can do no wrong. It¡¯s why I put up with the hard work. The pain. Yulia.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°Really, I feel bad for Mama. She¡¯s never been outside of Victory. Not once. Fixating on status may seem shallow but here, there¡¯s only power and status and she¡¯s definitely not a fighter¡ª"

    ¡°Alana, please. You don¡¯t have to explain it to me. It might be rare here but I grew up near the capital. Status-seeking is the norm.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Well, it¡¯s her dream. And I just abandoned it.¡±

    ¡°Hey.¡± I put a hand on her cheek. ¡°You haven¡¯t done anything wrong. People aren¡¯t obligated to live for their families.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk. Who is it that was going to attend the Grand Hall because of her father?¡±

    ¡°The alternative was being married off in the capital.¡±

    ¡°Could have said no.¡±

    ¡°And be a broke summoner with no background? No. Figured I take my chances at the Hall. Maybe find romance like Father. Preferably a rich, beautiful woman with a fondness for pure-hearted maidens.¡±

    Alana snickers. ¡°Pure-hearted.¡±

    ¡°You laugh but the saints heard me. I found exactly that. Sure, she bites but no one¡¯s perfect.¡±

    Her snickers turn to chuckles. ¡°Ancestors. What a pair we make. I can¡¯t wait to get out of here. And I never thought I would say this but I¡¯m not eager to come back. Seers and dragons. Damn it all to the Abyss and back, I¡¯d rather deal with that elf¡¯s family.¡±

    ¡°I agree but the seer only wins by a slim margin. And, uh, we can stop by the capital first. See my father. The rest of my family, too. If you want.¡±

    ¡°Sure, Lou. That¡¯d be nice.¡±

    The door slams open as Kierra enters, a barrel under her arm. Another barrel floats behind her. Oh wait. That¡¯s Bell underneath it. Three cups are held in her tail.

    ¡°Oh?¡± The elf sets down her burden. ¡°The two of you have already cleared the air. Have I wasted a journey?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right on time.¡± I sit up. ¡°Bring the shroom juice. We still have a report to write.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-131

    ¡°Okay.¡± Alana gulps down her drink before leaning against me, letting the handle of the cup slip from her fingers. Bell is there to catch it. I fend off her hand that tries to snatch the bone stylus out of my hand, careful not to knock over the inkwell on the bed. A lot of trouble when a smudgestick works just as well but the report I¡¯m helping her write requires a bit of presentation. A child¡¯s writing instrument is not good enough for the duke of Victory. ¡°We should, hic, should tell him that we saw a dragon.¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t though.¡±

    ¡°I know that.¡± She pokes my cheek in admonishment. ¡°But Father doesn¡¯t. If we tell him that there¡¯s a dragon waiting up there, he may not do something stupid.¡±

    ¡°So¡­we¡¯re lying?¡± I stare at the paragraph I¡¯ve already written. I thought we were just going to say everything we know and let her family handle the chaos. ¡°That sounds like a horrible idea.¡±

    ¡°No, no. It¡¯s a great idea. It¡¯s payback. Payback!¡± She shouts it with vehemence, throwing an arm around my shoulders. ¡°We¡¯re going to play a prank on them,¡± she whispers against my ear before hunching over in a giggling fit. ¡°They played so many pranks on me. Finally time for payback, you know?¡±

    She¡¯s so much trouble when she drinks. She¡¯s also cute. Why not? There¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to pass on false information to the duke but she seems to be having fun so we can pretend. ¡°Alright, what should we write?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Mm. Write¡­¡± My future saint who has spent her entire life in the barren north doing nothing but swinging a sword is failed by her stunted imagination, features scrunching adorably as she tries to contrive an inconvenient lie.

    ¡°Ooo!¡± Rolly pops into existence above Kierra, who is lounging on her side. The lueorale tries to dive into her cup of Herbanacle but is flicked away like an annoying fly. She spins several times before flying up and settling atop my head. ¡°Allow me. What kind of story are we telling?¡±

    ¡°Er¡­¡±

    ¡°How about a love story?¡± I suggest in the face of Alana¡¯s eloquence. To which she promptly boos.

    ¡°No one in Victory is gonna care about a love story.¡±

    ¡°Everyone loves a good love story,¡± Rolly counters. ¡°But it¡¯s important to cater to your audience. We can add a few epic elements. Our protagonist, the mysterious Khan, a lover born to a family of fighters. There is no place for his poetic soul in the war-torn north. Ostracized from his friends and family, he ventures into the unforgiving cold on a journey of self-discovery where he¡ª"

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait. Bell.¡±

    ¡°Me too.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    The imp grabs our empty cups and scrambles over to the barrel by the bed. She fills them up and returns them to us. I gulp down half before grabbing a fresh piece of parchment from the pile Alana slapped down when we started. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m ready. So, we¡¯re starting with Khan? What nonsense are we writing?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t want to say anything bad about Khan.¡±

    ¡°Bad? Of course not. Khan is the hero of the story. Let¡¯s see. Yes, on his journey of self-discovery, he was caught in a terrible storm that turned him around and left him lost without his supplies. He clung to life for three days¡ª"

    ¡°Three days?! What do you take him for? Khan¡¯s a James, he can last longer than three days without any supplies.¡±

    I pause in writing. ¡°How many days are we saying her survived?¡±

    ¡°Five? No, no, eight. Yeah, he could survive at least eight days. Write eight, Lou.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m writing.¡±

    ¡°Then, after walking for eight days, he collapses in the snow, knowing he won¡¯t survive another night. But as he passes out, someone gently lifts him from the cold oblivion. He wakes up on a soft bed, with a beautiful woman waiting at his bedside.¡±

    I pause. ¡°Beautiful woman?¡±

    Rolly trills. ¡°This is a love story, Lou. Keep up.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re lizards.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s some weird taste,¡± Alana mutters. She takes a long drink. ¡°Then again, he¡¯s never had a girlfriend. It¡¯s not his fault though. Skinny guys aren¡¯t very popular here, especially if they can¡¯t swing a sword.¡±

    ¡°Lancecain must be just as bad off.¡± His arms are skinnier than twigs.

    ¡°Lance has the light affinity, is the inheriting disciple of a master caster, and has the reputation of a saint. And he¡¯s good-looking.¡±

    ¡°¡­good points. Okay, so he meets some pretty lizard when he wakes up. The way this is going, he falls in love and then betrays his home for that love.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°You¡¯re forgetting the dragon,¡± Alana complains.

    ¡°The dragon is the lizard princess¡¯ disapproving father, the ruler of the north.¡± Kierra joins in on the fun. ¡°A dragon prince who started the Great War to win his father¡¯s throne. When he failed to conquer the Dragon Isles, he hid in the wastes of this continent, creating the estrazi as servants to do his bidding while remaining hidden. He has spent centuries recovering and building his forces in preparation for the second Great War.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t know you had it in you,¡± I mutter, writing the nonsense.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Rolly seems excited by the change in the story. ¡°Khan discovers this evil plot and goes against the slumbering dragon. It is an epic battle but he is severely injured. Only the interruption of the princess stalls her father¡¯s wrath. But it¡¯s on the condition that all his memories of the princess are erased, with only a vague sense of doom should he seek out the estrazi remaining in his mind.

    ¡°Mmhm. Good story for the memory loss. How are we explaining the ambush?¡± I mutter while scribbling out their nonsense.

    ¡°Obviously the princess kidnapping her mate beneath her father¡¯s nose,¡± Kierra mutters while draining her cup. She rolls off the bed to fetch a refill. ¡°She would keep him in her secret underground home, chained to her bed with links made of ice, while she slowly poisons her father to death.¡±

    I pause. ¡°That¡¯s dark.¡±

    ¡°It is the only way to protect mates your parents do not approve of.¡±

    ¡°Hold on. You¡¯re pretty sure your father won¡¯t approve of me. Are you going to kill him?¡±

    ¡°Of course not, Lou.¡± She resettles on the bed. ¡°He is no dragon. We can beat him into submission as many times as necessary to change his mind. And if he proves too stubborn, I will give him to mother and let her convince him.¡±

    ¡°Get back to the story!¡± Alana says, draping herself over me.

    -

    An hour later, I slip out of the room, closing the door on Alana¡¯s laughter. In my hands are two reports. I tried to leave the joke report behind but Alana noticed and stuffed it in my hands again. It contains all kinds of nonsense. Including that the estrazi can now breathe cold fire and fly. The report reads more like a storybook than anything else. No one would ever believe this. This is a prank only Alana¡¯s drunken mind could think would work. Good thing she has me to stop her from doing something stupid. The real report is already going to make her family upset, seeing that there¡¯s nothing in it.

    ¡°Ah, Lou.¡±

    A moment after leaving the room, a familiar voice calls out to me. Yulia stands in the middle of the hall, wearing a sad smile. ¡°I was just coming to check on your progress. That report¡­it¡¯s going to play a major part in determining Khan¡¯s future and¡­¡± Her eyes move to the rolled-up parchment in my hands. ¡°I see you¡¯ve already finished.¡±

    ¡°Did you want something?¡± I ask while walking past her. She falls in step beside me.

    ¡°¡­I was hoping you¡¯d let me see that report.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not meant for you. If you want to see it, get it from your father.¡±

    A hand grabs my shirt. I feel her pull, trying to stop me. I drag her for two steps before I realize that¡¯s what it means. Then I grab her wrist and throw it aside. She winces and rubs her hand. Must have grabbed her too hard. ¡°It might not seem important to you but the words in that report can determine whether my brother lives or dies. It only makes sense that I¡¯d be interested in the contents.¡±

    ¡°Your brother isn¡¯t going to die. Your father has plans for him.¡±

    ¡°I mean beyond that.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re overthinking this.¡±

    She makes to grab my arm but thinks better of it. ¡°It will only take but a moment.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±

    She ignores my dismissal and follows me. Going so far as to jog to keep up with my faster pace. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to protect my family. That has to be something you can understand.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Tell me, what are you going to do to protect your brother if your father wants to execute him? Because I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything you can do.¡±

    ¡°I can talk to him.¡±

    ¡°Talk to him? Is your father very talkative? Didn¡¯t strike me as the type.¡±

    ¡°Will you just wait a moment?¡±

    With a deep sigh, I stop. She yelps as I grab her arm and throw her against the wall, slamming my palm on the wall beside her. She hunches her shoulders as I loom over her. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just say what you want, Yulia? I don¡¯t do subtle well.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª"

    ¡°One chance. Then I leave.¡±

    The hall is quiet for several moments as we stare at each other. I can feel her scrutinizing me. ¡°I want¡­¡± she starts in a quiet voice filled with determination. ¡°I just want what¡¯s best for everyone. And!¡± She shouts as I take a step back. ¡°And¡­for everyone¡¯s sake, I want my husband to be the next duke.¡±

    ¡°I see. For everyone¡¯s sake.¡±

    She frowns. ¡°Would you prefer the thoughtless Zachariah? Khan was a much better option until he decided to apparently betray us. And I know you don¡¯t want Alana to take the position. From what I hear, she doesn¡¯t want it herself. It only makes sense for us to take the reins and if we are going to be responsible for Victory¡¯s future, then we should start leading now.¡±

    Her words come out in a rush, as if she¡¯s afraid I¡¯ll interrupt her. ¡°This is the start of something dangerous. If these¡­estrazi are truly the Lords of Winter, Victory¡¯s mindless war has to change. Khan is important. Maybe the most important person in Victory right now. So, yes, I need the to know what¡¯s in that report so I can make sure my father makes the right decision.¡±

    ¡°¡­good enough.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    I chuckle at her dumbfounded expression as I hand over the report. ¡°Read it quick. I want to get back to the room before Alana passes out.¡±

    ¡°Passes out?¡± she mutters distractedly.

    ¡°She really can¡¯t handle her drink.¡±

    I tap a foot impatiently as she reads. Thankfully, she is quick. It takes barely a minute for her to scan the whole document. ¡°I see.¡± She hands it back. ¡°Thank you, Lou. That was very helpful.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. I don¡¯t think your father is going to keep it secret.¡± It¡¯s impossible to keep something like this hidden for long.

    ¡°A little forewarning can make a big difference.¡±

    ¡°You can have whatever you need if you¡¯re going to clean up this mess for us. It would be amazing if it was all taken care of before next winter.¡± Not that it will be. ¡°And if you¡¯re going to be duchess, please make a real effort to reconcile with your sister. She really dislikes you.¡± I can completely imagine her taking Victory just to keep it out of Yulia¡¯s hands.

    ¡°Yes. And if I can give you some advice as well? My father asked for that report in the morning. Yet you are giving it to him now.¡± She smiles. ¡°I understand taking covert action to help those you care about but Alana has never responded well to such.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking about this too much. I¡¯m just dropping this report off now because I don¡¯t want Alana waking up early. She likes sleeping in when she drinks.¡± I¡¯m not that complicated.

    The bunny smiles. ¡°Of course. Have a good night, Lou.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-132

    Eleanor stood outside of the bedroom of a distraught mother as she vented her frustration in the middle of the night. She wasn¡¯t dressed for the occasion in a silky nightgown. She would feel much better if she had her armor and weapon but she didn¡¯t normally sleep with them. That¡¯s how the poor woman from the Waning Stars had found her; sound asleep and irritated from being disturbed.

    Eleanor couldn¡¯t fault her. While she had expected the barbarian to throw a fit, she hadn¡¯t expected it to still be going hours into the night with no sign of winding down. At the rate the woman was carrying on, it wouldn¡¯t be long until Kalise broke down her door and continued her rampage through the rest of the house.

    Her escort winced at the sound of something hitting the wall with force. Eleanor looked at her with some disdain, noticing her young face. She despised the new generation of knights. The influx of outsiders and the rise of the jokes calling themselves knight orders outside the watchful eyes of the Moons had deteriorated the traditions of the fort. Oh, the youth still believed in the war. They still believed in the James. Unfortunately, they lacked spine.

    Originally, when the walls of the fort were first raised and the armies of the north were a ragtag group of soldiers from ruined countries looking for a new home, the fort was called Winterwall. A name given to them by the fledgling First King, as he expected them to be the wall that protected Harvest from the threats of the north.

    When the first James took command of the north and was granted governing power over the land, he renamed it Fort Victory. The disjointed army became a united people with a culture fueled by an insatiable desire for martial supremacy. The first generation didn¡¯t just believe in the war. They lived and died for it.

    When the rest of Harvest shunned their extremism, they shunned the rest of the kingdom in turn. Back then, there were no other orders besides the Moons and no one tried to convince the younger generations to see the rest of the kingdom. Outsiders were turned away at the gates. Men and women died fighting the northern hordes and were not only proud to do so, but happy. There could be no greater pleasure.

    That conviction had waned throughout the years. Not just in the knights but in the James family. Eleanor had worked hard during her time in the Stars, eager to live up to the expectations of her father, an accomplished field commander for the Moons. Being chosen as Erenhart¡¯s first wife, the duke¡¯s confirmed heir at the time, was the culmination of all her efforts. It was supposed to be a great honor.

    She would help guide the next phase of the war. Perhaps finally make headway where generations before had failed. And if she didn¡¯t, then her child would be the next to take the reins. If they failed, her grandchild could succeed them. Then her great-grandchild.

    The reality was not quite what she envisioned. She and Erenhart¡¯s relationship had never been¡­loving. When he was younger, the current duke had been much less stoic and a lot more hot-tempered. He didn¡¯t react well to his father choosing his first bride, especially when he had been just as resistant to marriage as her own son, wholly focused on proving himself in the campaigns.

    Once he was confirmed as his father¡¯s heir, the choice was taken away from him, something he always resented. It didn¡¯t help that Eleanor was not the type of woman he preferred. His tastes were no secret, a James¡¯ actions under constant scrutiny. She made efforts at first. Tried to be less¡­cold. More¡­docile. There was a time she thought their relationship was rather good.

    That faded when she became pregnant with their first son. Erenhart didn¡¯t waste any time rejoining the campaigns, against the wishes of his father. Tradition no longer chaining him, he actively defied the previous duke wherever he could.

    A lot of things had resulted from that rebellion, in Eleanor¡¯s eyes. The other orders growing more impudent as her husband allowed them too much freedom outside of Victory¡¯s walls. The river of outsiders that flowed through the north every winter, putting ideas in the heads of the younger generation and attempting to pilfer as many resources as they could. Even her fellow wives.

    Ariza was not so bad. She didn¡¯t linger long enough or have enough personality to be a true annoyance. Kalise was another creature. The strange barbarian that had ventured from her tribe of hunters following rumors of an impossible war. No last name. No history, or at least none that she had ever cared to share beyond drunken stories and strange sayings.

    She had gotten into a fight within thirty minutes of being allowed inside the walls. After a week, Erenhart sought her out to talk some sense into the powerful stranger, unwilling to let rampant aggression ruin a perfectly good ally. After another week, she had joined his personal army.

    Eleanor hadn¡¯t thought much of it when they left on a campaign. The strange woman wasn¡¯t important once she stopped causing trouble. She became a lot more important when her husband returned from the campaign and announced his intention to marry her.

    Outsiders were just starting to be seen as something more than problems but to marry one still beggared belief. The previous duke almost fainted from anger when he learned of his heir¡¯s intentions. But, by then, he was too weak to do anything about it, grown old and feeble, at least by Victory¡¯s standards.

    The first time Eleanor talked to Kalise was after that announcement. The barbarian had slouched in her chair while the two James men talked tersely to one another, neither one inclined to yelling. She had looked up and met Eleanor¡¯s intense stare with a cocky grin. That¡¯s when Eleanor knew she was going to hate her.

    She was right. Kalise was thoroughly infuriating. The woman didn¡¯t care about Victory and their mission. To her, the northerners were simply another strange clan with crazy hunting rituals. When Eleanor questioned her about her motives, she openly admitted that she was marrying Erenhart for his resources and his war. All she needed was a good bed, a good lay, and a good fight. Her husband was a convenient source for all three so she accepted his proposal the morning after one of their romps.

    She had laughed about it, treating it as a joke. Hadn¡¯t understood why Eleanor who had worked for her entire life and deeply cared about Victory¡¯s future would hate having to share her position with a warmonger who had married the most powerful man in the north as a joke. Why she would want to kill her when she thought of a future where one of the woman¡¯s children usurped Victory from her little boy.

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    Time had done its work. Their relationship improved to that of cordial strangers, able to share shallow but pleasant words. Considering it had taken two decades, nothing impressive. They had accepted they would never be like the harems in fictional stories where the wives all managed to get along despite sharing a single man and house. That allowed them to grow comfortable with what they could be. Eleanor may not have liked the other woman but she had accepted her role in her life.

    They¡¯d grown comfortable enough that she felt genuine distress at the vocal and violent grief pouring from the bedroom. Despite what some believed, Eleanor was not carved from ice. Khan wasn¡¯t her son but she had watched him grow up from a distance. Of course she would be moved knowing that the boy faced death, if not worse.

    There was nothing to be done about it. His mind was compromised. Even if her husband ignored generations of tradition, the best Khan could hope for was exile. Not to the south, where he could potentially be a threat to the kingdom, but to the north, forced to fight for his forgiveness until reunited with the ancestors.

    She may not show overt affection to her children but if her last son faced death, torture, or worse, she might break up a room as well. For once, she wasn¡¯t annoyed by the woman who¡¯d been something of a hated rival for many years. And she wanted to help.

    ¡°Stay here,¡± she told the lady knight that had run to fetch her. ¡°Make sure no one comes in. And don¡¯t come in yourself. No matter what you hear.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    Eleanor straightened her shoulders as she stepped into Kalise¡¯s room, shutting the door firmly behind her. The mess matched the ruckus she¡¯d heard outside, the only furniture intact being the bed. The woman who stood in the middle of the room looked just as disheveled. Her clothes said she¡¯d just wrestled a horde of snowcats and in her hands, she tightly held one of the short, wide blades she favored.

    Kalise looked over her shoulder. ¡°You¡­¡± The barbarian¡¯s voice was hoarse. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Your noise is keeping the house up.¡± Eleanor deftly stepped across the messy floor, heading for the bed. Dark eyes watched her progress as she took a seat on one of the corners. The tension was so thick, Eleanor imagined she could cut through if she had her spear. Instead, she was unarmed and in striking range of a very agitated woman.

    It took more than that to fluster her. Her blue eyes were calm as two blocks of ice as she turned them on Kalise. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t think all of this will be replaced in the morning. Wood is scarce. Really, you choose tonight to rampage rather than drink?¡±

    ¡°Blame that green one. Everything here tastes like garbage and they aren¡¯t sharing anymore. Maybe I should rob them.¡±

    ¡°Would you like to fight that monster? Either of them?¡± Eleanor had witnessed the March. She was under no illusion about the strength of Alana¡¯s new friends.

    ¡°The way I¡¯m feeling, it sounds like a fecking grand idea.¡±

    ¡°Then let me be your voice of reason. You¡¯ll die. Pointlessly. And then no one will be there to help your son.¡±

    ¡°No one can help Khan,¡± Kalise growled. She twirled the blade in her hand, the thin beams of moonlight that managed to slip through the shutters of her window glinting off the metal. ¡°You¡¯re always yowling to me about your precious traditions. You know better than anyone he can¡¯t be saved.¡±

    ¡°To think I would hear you speak about our traditions with anything other than disdain.¡± Eleanor huffed. ¡°Traditions have been broken before. Your presence proves that.¡±

    ¡°¡­what do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I mean what I said. As long as Khan is alive, something can be done. He needs someone to fight for him and no one will fight for him like you. Instead of wasting your time breaking perfectly good furniture, you should be making plans.¡±

    ¡°Plans. Your daughter is just like you. Asking me about my plans. There is no plan. My son is gone and no plan is going to save him.¡± She lowered her head. ¡°¡­if I was any good at planning, I wouldn¡¯t be here.¡±

    A topic Eleanor had pondered for a long time. Kalise was an exceptional fighter and caster. She clearly came from a people who valued strength. So, why had she appeared in the north?

    There were plenty of other places she could go for a good fight, especially since she didn¡¯t mind fighting men as well as monsters. She could have gotten on a ship and seen the world. Yet, she went to the north. The land of outcasts and madmen to most of the kingdom. It was well known they accepted anyone who was willing to fight without asking uncomfortable questions.

    It was the one thing Eleanor was curious about in regard to the barbarian but she held her tongue. It felt¡­wrong to probe her for an answer she¡¯d protected for so long when she was vulnerable. ¡°You could ask for help.¡±

    ¡°Help?¡± Kalise raised her head. ¡°From you? You want to help me?¡±

    The heavy confusion and disbelief were not unwarranted. Didn¡¯t make it less annoying. ¡°I do, but if you find the idea disagreeable, I won¡¯t force the issue.¡± She made to rise but Kalise moved faster, keeping her on the bed with a hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°Now, hold on. I didn¡¯t say I don¡¯t want your help. I was just shocked. I thought, no. I know you hate me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t hate you. I hate what you represent. And even if I did hate you, I don¡¯t hate Khan¡­though he really is too much of a coward.¡±

    The mother of the coward groaned. ¡°I don¡¯t know where he gets it from.¡±

    ¡°And if we are going to talk, you will put that blade down.¡±

    Kalise blinked, raising the sword as if she¡¯d forgotten about it. A forced smile curled her lips. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Making you nervous?¡±

    Blue eyes narrowed with distaste. ¡°I do not get nervous. I do get annoyed.¡±

    ¡°Heh. Alright.¡± The sword clattered across the floor as its owner tossed it away carelessly before taking a seat on the bed. Eleanor frowned as their shoulders touched but ignored the contact, allowing it in face of the circumstances.

    ¡°Why were you even holding a weapon in your bedroom?¡±

    ¡°I was thinking about breaking Khan out and finding him help.¡±

    ¡°That would be¡­¡± Eleanor searched for the proper words to communicate how horrible of an idea it was.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me. Even if I somehow get through you, our loving husband, the girl on my door, that old dog Bulliard, and everyone else in the north, I don¡¯t have a fecking clue on how to save his mind. And I can¡¯t get drunk enough to do it anyway, so, that plan is a dead horse. Told you I¡¯m shit at this.¡±

    ¡°You are.¡± It was one of the traits Eleanor liked most in the woman. It meant that no matter her bluster, she never saw the second wife as a threat. ¡°So, we are going to think about it, together.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t help.¡±

    ¡°Breaking the house doesn¡¯t help. At least this way, you¡¯re not destroying things or getting yourself killed. Don¡¯t be so quick to give in. Victory doesn¡¯t submit.¡±

    ¡°No, you insane people don¡¯t. Suppose I should thank you.¡± There was a pause. Then a hand slowly crept onto Eleanor¡¯s thigh. ¡°Thanks, princess.¡±

    ¡°I am not a princess, I hate that name, and do you never get tired of this game?¡± Eleanor removed the hand and created some distance between them.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get you one of these days.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re still trying to carry on affairs like a young woman. How many more years need to pass before you grow out of this phase?¡±

    Kalise snorted out a laugh. ¡°Lust isn¡¯t a phase, princess. As long as you¡¯re such a delicious catch, I¡¯m going to chase you and that isn¡¯t going to change anytime soon.¡±

    Eleanor huffed. ¡°There are plenty of catches who would be happy to entertain you.¡± She was always surprised the other woman never made advances on the women that guarded her room. It wasn¡¯t for lack of trying on the part of the lady knights who spent the night a few strides from a large bed and a desirable partner, no matter Eleanor couldn¡¯t fathom what they saw in the woman.

    ¡°Yeah, but I want you.¡±

    ¡°One more time and I leave.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re about the same age. I won¡¯t believe you if you say you don¡¯t get¡ªhey, hey, alright!¡± Kalise caught Eleanor¡¯s arm as she tried to stand, quickly releasing her as blue eyes narrowed in a harsh glare. ¡°I¡¯m leaving it alone. Let¡¯s talk about how we¡¯re going to get my son out of this mess.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-133

    Yulia has the wrong idea. She thinks I¡¯m delivering this report early because of some scheme but it really is just to avoid problems in the morning. Maybe it¡¯s also to spare Alana another uncomfortable conversation. She refused her father but it certainly wasn¡¯t easy. Thinking about it, she never outright told him no. Even a roundabout rejection was almost too much for her to handle. So, if I happen to exchange a few words with the good duke while delivering a message that spares her a little pain, then all¡¯s well that ends well.

    Though I may not be a schemer, I do have an unfortunate tendency to land myself in the schemes of others. It can¡¯t be helped. Given my circumstances and the people I surround myself with, it¡¯s inevitable that I get into trouble. Focusing on my advanced hearing as I navigate the manor is a necessity, as I only vaguely remember the location of the duke¡¯s study. I don¡¯t intend to spy on the members of the house but it¡¯s not something I can stop. The nervous mutterings of the servants as they discuss Khan being dragged into the house while restrained reaches my ears whether I want them to or not.

    The same for the conversation between Roza and Bulliard. I don¡¯t know where they are exactly. Their voices travel, as they¡¯re not making any effort to be quiet. Once I hear them, I stop and lean against the closest wall, shutting my eyes as I focus on my hearing.

    Alana¡¯s mother sounds tired. Tired and angry. ¡°I suppose I should be flattered with you and Erenhart¡¯s opinion of me. Instead, it¡¯s irritating. He expects me to work miracles. Demands it. But even a woman who works miracles isn¡¯t good enough to be a James. It¡¯s insulting.¡±

    ¡°Is supporting Victory not reward enough?¡± the old servant grumbles.

    ¡°I know of only one creature that will adore its master no matter how it is treated. That would be a dog. No matter how long I¡¯ve spent on my knees for him, I am not that man¡¯s bitch. He refused a relationship of goodwill so now our relationship is one of transaction.¡±

    ¡°I counseled him against that.¡±

    ¡°Is that supposed to be a compliment? If I cared for men¡¯s flattery, I would have stuck with my old line of work. Anyone with eyes could see I was a better choice than Ariza. That woman should be his personal maid, not a duchess of Victory. It¡¯s embarrassing.¡±

    ¡°There are some that said the same about you.¡±

    She scoffs. It sounds exactly like my future saint when she isn¡¯t impressed. ¡°None who would say the same today.¡±

    ¡°Will you do it or not?¡±

    ¡°Of course I will do it. I¡¯m a northerner, aren¡¯t I? We take the beatings and keep marching.¡± She sighs, heavily. There¡¯s a lifetime of exhaustion in it. ¡°Though there¡¯s little point. All my efforts, meaningless. Alana doesn¡¯t want to succeed her father. A James that has turned her back on Victory. Of all the ways I saw my life going wrong, this was never one. Ancestors.¡±

    ¡°Roza.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. I will clean up this family¡¯s mess, again. Completely suppressing the story is impossible. Khan is too well-known and too many people saw him detained to not spread rumors.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps your daughter shouldn¡¯t have been so careless.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps he shouldn¡¯t have betrayed his family, the kingdom, and all of humanity. Did your mother never teach you that if you get into a match of pointing fingers, you¡¯ll lose an eye?¡±

    ¡°My mother died.¡±

    ¡°So did mine. In far less honorable circumstances, I imagine.¡± Saints preserve them, these people are depressing. ¡°Knowing how inflexible that man is, I assume he is allowing me creative freedom?¡±

    ¡°If I could make a suggestion¡ª¡±

    ¡°You cannot. As I said, suppression is no good. That leaves exaggeration and misdirection. Hm. We cannot tell the people we suspect these estrazi are connected to the Lords. That doesn¡¯t leave many ways to explain a coordinated force with enough intelligence to plan an ambush. In fact, there is only one worth exploring. Invasion.¡±

    ¡°Invasion?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised. It is easy to forget, but we aren¡¯t the only race that inhabits this world. The elf should have reminded you of that. The good people of Victory are hardy but ignorant. It wouldn¡¯t be difficult to find some obscure record of another race that fits their description.¡±

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    ¡°And how would they have invaded us without us knowing?¡±

    ¡°They sailed. The north does have a shore, even if we can¡¯t reach it.¡±

    ¡°They sailed¡­over the ice.¡± The servant¡¯s voice is thick with disbelief.

    ¡°Perhaps they have ships made of fire,¡± she growls. ¡°Maybe they skated across the ocean. Or flew. It doesn¡¯t matter. What¡¯s important is that we establish they are just another enemy to fight.¡±

    ¡°No one needs to tell our soldiers they are enemies. I don¡¯t understand the need for deception. Why not say these estrazi are simply another intelligent monster, which they appear to be?¡±

    ¡°Because if we call them monsters, they are Victory¡¯s problem. If we call them invaders, they are the kingdom¡¯s problem.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t need them.¡±

    Another heavy sigh. ¡°Whatever his faults, Erenhart is no fool. Our people grow more numerous but you¡¯re deceiving yourself if you think we¡¯re growing stronger. You¡¯re not a child being told stories by the few living knights in your family who make the war sound glorious. We¡¯re losing. We¡¯ve always been losing and that¡¯s because we¡¯ve always done the same thing. Something has to change.

    ¡°Erenhart tried but his half-hearted measures aren¡¯t going to work. Giving the orders more freedom has diluted the fanatic ideas of some of the older families. Involving the hunters has increased our yield, lowered our casualties, and improved our relations with the rest of the kingdom. That wasn¡¯t enough to win a decisive battle past the Peaks. It won¡¯t be nearly enough to win a war if the Lords become aggressive. So yes, Bulliard. Northern pride be damned, I want the royal army marching with the Moons.¡±

    ¡°¡­fine. What do you need for this latest performance?¡±

    ¡°An ancient book with a few drawings of the estrazi. A couple corpses. Along with the usual cooperation spreading a few rumors. Erenhart should prepare himself to give a speech to the fort in about a week. Preferably with the cooperation of Khan.¡±

    ¡°The duke should not be seen by the side of a traitor!¡±

    ¡°Have you two learned nothing over the years? You have to control every angle of the story. Khan cannot be seen as a traitor. That is not detrimental. That is catastrophic. The James cannot be doubted, especially now. We get him in his full gear with a few Moons and Stars behind him. Then we drag Khan out and he acts like a man whose mind has been tampered with. We need him insane. Utterly insane. Walking on his fists, frothing at the mouth, howling like an animal insane. Turn him into a victim. Make them sympathetic rather than suspicious.¡±

    ¡°Mm¡­it makes sense but I doubt Khan will be able to put on a convincing performance.¡±

    ¡°Serve him the right drink and he¡¯ll perform.¡±

    ¡°¡­supposing the duke will agree to drugging his son, there are plenty who will be able to recognize the use of drugs.¡±

    ¡°He will agree. All that man has done in the name of duty, I will find a way to hurt him if this is where he draws the line.¡±

    ¡°You dare threaten¡ª"

    ¡°Oh, stop. You know I don¡¯t mean it just like I know you¡¯re a bit too old to get so worked up. You do have a point. This story is going to be prodded by the best in Victory. Someone could notice. Hm. My daughter¡¯s infatuation. Her creatures. They can use the mental affinity?¡±

    ¡°Are you suggesting having those creatures mess around in his mind?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It isn¡¯t like it hasn¡¯t been done before. The wine has already been spilled. There is no point in getting upset that someone walked in it too. If he can¡¯t perform, shatter his mind for real. If he is his father¡¯s son, he¡¯ll be happy to serve his family one last time.¡±

    ¡°¡­you are a cold woman.¡±

    ¡°I tried warming hearts and beds. Ice has gotten me much farther. You have the bones of what I want to do. Fetch approval from your master so I can get to work. Alana¡¯s army should be nice and drunk by now. The perfect time to spread stories. Every minute counts.¡±

    I straighten up as a door around the corner from me opens, footsteps heading in my direction. I turn my back and walk slowly, doing my best to appear like I¡¯m lost and clueless. Not hard, given that I am lost.

    ¡°Lady Tome.¡±

    I look over my shoulder, breathing deeply as I work to compose my features. ¡°Good timing. I was looking for the duke. Have something for him.¡± I raise the report and wave it.

    ¡°That was¡­fast.¡± The servant¡¯s thick, gray brows furrow.

    ¡°Yes, well. This is important information.¡±

    ¡°¡­then allow me to escort you.¡±

    I fall in step behind him as he moves past me, hoping he isn¡¯t another that can read me like an open book. I certainly heard plenty that could show on my face. Now I understand why Roza has a seat at the duke¡¯s table and why she can take such an impertinent tone.

    She¡¯s his gossip monger. The one who handles his family¡¯s image. Weaponizing it to further the family¡¯s goals or using it as a shield against verbal or social attacks.

    The person who handles a family¡¯s image is incredibly powerful, no matter if they are a high-ranking member of the family or a long-time servant. Specifically, because such a person knows their family¡¯s secrets. All of them. They have to know every weakness to properly defend them. They hold the power to destroy their factions. They are essential to a family¡¯s future so they cannot be executed easily. To keep them loyal, they are afforded all kinds of privileges. Money, women, power.

    If Roza is the gossip monger for the James family, the only nobles in the north, then she is no simple woman. As expected of Alana¡¯s mother, I suppose. And damn impressive. Going from a prostitute to a woman of incredible influence is no small feat. Saints, I can almost understand her anger. That is a lot of work. A plan that took decades. Alana was a part of that plan. If her mother is the woman I think she is, she is perfectly positioned to not only ensure Alana succeeds her father but guarantee a smooth rule¡­and Alana just threw it all out of a very high window to a very hard ground.

    Ah, well. Her fulfillment isn¡¯t my concern.

 ARC 6-Winter War-134

    Bulliard knocks twice before opening the door to the duke¡¯s study. Inside is nothing but darkness. I drop down a film and the black room is filled with gray details. The duke is seated behind a large desk, head bowed and blankly staring at his desk.

    ¡°My lord. Forgive the late interruption. Roza has a suggestion¡ª"

    ¡°Approved. She knows what needs to be done.¡±

    ¡°¡­I believe there is one point that you will want to discuss with her. It is not pressing but I do not believe you should allow her to make the decision on her own. It¡¯s sensitive.¡±

    ¡°I will discuss it with her later. Who else?¡±

    ¡°Lady Tome to see you, my lord.¡±

    I clear my throat, thoroughly uncomfortable with the theatrics of a man pondering in a dark room. Does he think it makes him more intimidating? Does he think he needs help being intimidating? He doesn¡¯t.

    ¡°I don¡¯t plan to stay long. Just came to give this to you.¡± The duke lifts his head as I step into the room, dropping the rolled-up report on the desk. ¡°All the information we have on Khan, the estrazi, and his connection to them.¡±

    ¡°Did your inquiry damage his mind further?¡±

    ¡°No. He¡¯s as broken and as whole as we found him.¡±

    ¡°That is interesting¡­given that you have not visited Khan¡¯s room. Before you attempt to lie, the servant standing outside his door was ordered to inform me once you appeared. I was debating whether I wanted to be present for the questioning.¡±

    The ensuing silence asks for an explanation. Ugh. I can feel his authority suffusing the room pushing against me. Speaking without speaking. A favored tool of those in power to keep their opponents off guard. I haven¡¯t been in the room with someone who can wield their presence this well in a while. Or perhaps I¡¯m just not so sensitive to it.

    I think the last time I felt this uncomfortable before an authoritative figure was facing my own father as he threatened to disown me if I didn¡¯t attend the Hall.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. We questioned Khan in the field. A good thing as it saved some time, I would say.¡±

    The duke sits up in his chair, lacing his fingers atop the desk. ¡°Victory shares little with our kingdom. What it does share is strict rules about the use of the mental affinity. Specifically, in using it to question or interrogate criminals. It is illegal without my permission.¡±

    ¡°¡­illegal. You¡¯re telling me that questioning someone who we had reason to believe orchestrated an ambush against our army was illegal?¡±

    ¡°That is the law.¡±

    ¡°In the middle of a war? Your word for it, not mine.¡±

    ¡°It is still illegal.¡±

    I take a deep breath while I think. He hasn¡¯t shown the tiniest bit of interest in the report detailing his son¡¯s apparent betrayal but is talking to me about breaking a law to do something he asked me to do himself not even a day after my return.

    ¡°What is this?¡± I question. I have some ideas but the conclusions I¡¯m inclined to jump to are not good places.

    ¡°Normally, someone who breaks this law is executed,¡± he replies flatly. ¡°However, for some, a sentence can be reduced to labor, as it serves no one to throw away talent.¡±

    ¡°¡­so you¡¯re threatening me.¡± Saints preserve me, why? ¡°If we don¡¯t stay and fight for you, you¡¯re going to use this horseshit of an excuse to, what? You can¡¯t imprison me, you don¡¯t have a prison. Kill me? That¡¯s not what you want.¡±

    ¡°You possess dangerous information. Information that jeopardizes Victory. I can accept any measure that ensures you do not spread it.¡±

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    ¡°How about asking me nicely? No? Of course not, because that¡¯s not what this is about. Do you think threatening me is going to win Alana over?¡±

    ¡°Alana is not the one who broke the law. You are.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Sorry, Alana. I hoped to leave her family to her in hopes a few small victories could nurse some of the wounds they¡¯ve inflicted on her but this is crossing the line. ¡°Since this only involves me, I¡¯ll give my answer right now. One way or another, we¡¯re leaving Victory. What you do determines if we ever come back or if you have several more problems to deal with.¡±

    ¡°That is the crux of the matter. Whether you will return. Whether you can be trusted. You are not from the north. You have no loyalty to our cause. No stake in our war. Alana has rejected her home once. She can easily do it again.¡±

    He makes a good point. If I had the choice, I wouldn¡¯t return. I¡¯m anticipating it, given this is Alana¡¯s home, but the saints know I don¡¯t want to.

    If he knows his daughter at all, the duke would know that she could never abandon anyone in trouble, especially those she cares about, and she does care about these people for some reason, but that is hard to remember in the face of her recent rejection. She threw away a chance at being duchess. I can understand how that makes her father nervous. The north doesn¡¯t have much else to offer.

    ¡°Do you trust Alana?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    I bite back the urge to curse at him. I wish she could toss this useless family aside. ¡°You should. And you should trust that I wouldn¡¯t go against Alana¡¯s wishes without a very good reason and I don¡¯t have a reason to get involved with the estrazi or an impending war.¡±

    ¡°Is there something I can offer to change your mind?¡±

    ¡°If you thought you had something to offer, you would have started with that rather than a threat.¡± I hope. ¡°I can¡¯t think of anything.¡±

    ¡°The north is rich in many ways.¡±

    ¡°If you had bothered to read the report before having this little talk, you¡¯d know there is no amount of riches that is worth getting involved in this mess¡­my lord.¡± Despite his lack of tact, I would rather our relationship not deteriorate too much.

    ¡°¡­would you assist by lighting a candle?¡±

    I reach for a tall candle on the corner of the desk and light it with a simple spell before passing it to the duke. He sets it near the edge of the desk before grabbing the report. The real one, no matter how funny it would have been to pass along Alana¡¯s prank.

    The duke is a slow reader. I can feel the minutes dragging on as his eyes scan over the words. When he finally puts it down, the shadows flickering over his stern features make them seem even more severe. ¡°I understand. The involvement of a dragon is not something to take lightly¡­but the assumption is premature.¡±

    ¡°The slightest possibility is too much, in my opinion.¡±

    ¡°This does not give me confidence in your loyalty to Victory.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I don¡¯t have any loyalty to Victory. Only to Alana. And while she is very understandably unsettled with what could happen in the future and even more understandably wants some distance to figure everything out, she still wants to help. As long as that¡¯s what she wants, I¡¯m an ally.¡±

    ¡°¡­I suppose that is the best I can hope for.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thank the saints.¡± I grab the edge of the desk as a wave of relief makes me feel weak. For a moment, I thought I would have to wade through a river of blood because of this man¡¯s insecurities. I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that he can be reasoned with but I am grateful.

    ¡°Though I would make one request.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°Every day before you leave, I want you to have your succubus treat Khan. If you cannot restore him before you leave, I want an answer. Victory is action. His fate will be decided by you.¡±

    Not what I expected. Also, not a great request. A horrible one, really. I don¡¯t want to decide whether Alana¡¯s brother lives or dies but it¡¯s better this than a small war to escape the north. ¡°Don¡¯t you have anyone else you can ask? I would think there would be plenty of better alternatives, as you¡¯ve made it very clear you don¡¯t trust my commitment.¡±

    ¡°The James cannot afford to be weak. That, and my people are not trained for this. I know of the succubi. There is no one with greater expertise than your elementals.¡±

    Sigh. ¡°I¡¯m not killing him.¡±

    ¡°If you mean you do not wish to put the sword to his neck should it turn out he cannot be saved, then that is not your responsibility. It is mine¡­and mine alone.¡±

    ¡°Fine. You have a deal so don¡¯t make things difficult when we leave.¡± I straighten up, more than ready to crawl into bed. I can sprint for a full day without breaking a sweat but carrying a heavy conversation is still exhausting.

    ¡°One final thing.¡±

    I pause, having already turned and taken a step toward the door. I hesitantly look over my shoulder. I don¡¯t know if our tenuous peace can handle another thing. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°It is traditional for James daughters to be married in the spring.¡±

    Eh?

    ¡°It is too late to prepare the proper festivities for the coming spring. For next spring, we would prefer notice by the fall, at the latest. If my daughter¡¯s words about marrying you were not a jest¡­or a misunderstanding.¡±

    ¡°A-aren¡¯t you a little enthusiastic?¡± I sputter, thoroughly caught off guard.

    ¡°As I said. If my daughter is satisfied, I have no objections. Marriage will tie you to Victory and alleviate my concerns.¡± He leans forward. ¡°You should propose. Soon.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not up to you!¡± I shout before rushing from the room. Damn meddling duke!

 ARC 6-Winter War-135

    ¡°Never drinking again,¡± Alana mutters as she wakes up with what I imagine is a terrible headache. It¡¯s been years since I¡¯ve suffered a good hangover. The overcast sky barely allows any light into her room and there is no noise besides our own breaths but the slightest of either can be agonizing. From the look on her face, that¡¯s exactly how she feels.

    Her disgruntled mood lasts as long as it takes Kierra to sleepily grasp one of her hands. Alana¡¯s scowl fades to a frown. ¡°You know, it¡¯s difficult to stop doing bad things when you two keep waving away the consequences.¡±

    ¡°Most people would think that¡¯s a good thing,¡± I mumble beside her. I¡¯ve been awake for a while, on account of this body needing far less sleep than most, but years of considering lazy mornings a luxury have made me slow to rise.

    ¡°Have to turn in that report.¡±

    ¡°Already did.¡±

    ¡°¡­you took care of it?¡± She gasps. ¡°Please tell me you didn¡¯t take me seriously last night and hand over that nonsense we fabricated while very, very drunk?¡±

    ¡°To be clear, you were the only one who was drunk. And no, I didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°¡­how¡¯d it go?¡±

    Do you mean besides him pressuring me to propose to you? And threatening me to evaluate my loyalty to the north? ¡°It went fine.¡±

    ¡°Really? He had nothing to say about any of it?¡±

    ¡°He expressed his doubt, which, you know, understandable. He did also ask me to evaluate Khan.¡±

    ¡°Evaluate him how?¡±

    ¡°He wants Geneva to evaluate his mind. Tell him definitively whether she can heal him or not.¡±

    She sits up straighter. ¡°You told me you didn¡¯t know how long that would take. Or if it would take.¡±

    ¡°I did. I told your father the same thing. He wants to try.¡± I sigh heavily. ¡°He knows we want to leave. If I can¡¯t make progress or assure him that progress can be made¡­he wants me to tell him so.¡±

    Alana¡¯s shoulders slump. I don¡¯t have to explain what those words mean to her. ¡°What is he thinking?¡± she mutters more to herself than me. ¡°If Khan¡¯s death is tied to us leaving¡­is he using him as a chain to keep us here? Why would, no. That¡¯s a stupid question. A better one would be who wouldn¡¯t? We are far too valuable to have out of his sight.¡± She flops onto her back and puts a pillow over her head before yelling a stream of muffled curses.

    That¡¯s exactly how I feel about the situation. ¡°I agreed, by the way.¡±

    Her pillow harmlessly hits me in the face. ¡°Why?!¡±

    ¡°It was better than the alternative.¡±

    Her eyes narrow in suspicion. ¡°The alternative.¡± I¡¯m preparing myself to explain that her father tried to threaten me into staying in the north but, to my surprise, she doesn¡¯t ask. Instead, she climbs over me and gets up. I roll over, claiming the still warm gap in the bed as I watch her strip before her dresser. A toned green arm snakes out of the blanket Kierra¡¯s huddled under, wrapping around my waist and pulling me against my wife.

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    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to ask what the alternative was?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to ask,¡± she tells me as she dresses for the day. ¡°Victory is not known for its proficiency in negotiation. He threatened you, didn¡¯t he? If not you directly, seeing as the March showed exactly how hard it is to kill you, then something connected to you.¡±

    Ah. I think I understand why she doesn¡¯t want to ask what the alternative was. ¡°He didn¡¯t threaten you, Alana.¡±

    She stiffens. Looks like I was right. ¡°He¡¯s willing to kill his son. The son that lived in his house and ate at his table every night. I can¡¯t expect him to care more about the stray he picked up only a few years ago.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what he¡¯s thinking but he did not threaten you. Not even vaguely. His ¡®negotiations¡¯ only involved me.¡±

    She hums noncommittally, not reassured. ¡°I have to review the account of our kills. Make sure they¡¯ve properly calculated our reward. Then I have to claim it from the vault and distribute it to the army. Which is usually done in the midst of a celebration. A good time for us to do some preparation for the business of the March. With any luck, it¡¯ll go better than our campaign.¡±

    ¡°The campaign didn¡¯t go so bad.¡±

    ¡°It could have gone better. This time, we were able to mitigate the damages. I don¡¯t think that¡¯ll be possible if a northern army marches on another city.¡± She sighs. ¡°Dragons if we stay, civil war if we leave. The saints must have turned their backs on us, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. When I think of all the trouble I get into, I think of it as paying back the luck debt of meeting Cosmo. Ah, that¡¯s the elemental that changed me.¡±

    ¡°¡­its name is Cosmo?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not his true name. Elementals don¡¯t give those out. But, yes, Cosmo is the name he gave me to address him by.¡±

    ¡°That is a stupid name.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not. Nothing that powerful can have a stupid name. When you¡¯re confronted with something like Cosmo, you change your definition of stupid.¡± He could call himself Fluffy Kittenpaws and the only word I¡¯d ever use to describe his name is regal. ¡°Back to business. We pay the hunters and¡­then what?¡±

    The true question is when do we leave? Or, maybe, can she leave knowing that she may be condemning her brother to death? And can I accept her decision if she tells me something I don¡¯t want to hear?

    I¡¯m suddenly reminded of Geneva¡¯s plan to manipulate me into conquering the north. It had two paths. One of which centered around separating me from Alana. She predicted the grief would make me mad. Mad and destructive.

    I can¡¯t help thinking about it as I wonder if this business with Khan will drive us apart. I don¡¯t think it will, and I don¡¯t doubt Alana, but worries don¡¯t care about logic. They chew through rationale like rats through grain sacks. No matter what precautions people take to keep them out, they always find a way to get where they aren¡¯t wanted.

    ¡°I need to have a talk with my mother. I also want to talk with Aunt Anastasia¡­but that¡¯s all to waste time. I want to give you a chance with Khan. One week. Father doesn¡¯t know how strong Geneva is but I do. If she can¡¯t see hope for him in a week, then there is no hope. Better to be done with it than drag the pain out.¡±

    She sounds pained but determined. I restrain my relief to a small smile. ¡°Alright, Alana.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s customary for the field commander to host a party for the soldiers. It¡¯s usually nothing more than free drinks and food in the Witness Circle. There¡¯s also a mass funeral for the fallen that don¡¯t have families that care to give them special send-offs. That kind of serves as the entertainment. It¡¯ll be a short party otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we can organize a dance.¡±

    She gives me look over her shoulder. ¡°Northerners don¡¯t dance.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. You proved that.¡±

    The look turns into a glare. ¡°It would be great if you could arrange things. For tonight.¡±

    Tonight?! ¡°Isn¡¯t that a little fast?¡±

    ¡°Everything in Victory happens fast. Has to, because you don¡¯t know who¡¯ll be alive tomorrow. Party. Tonight. If you could.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­as long as it¡¯s simple, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Great. Thank you. Ask Bulliard if you have any questions or need ideas. He¡¯s got plenty of experience.¡±

    I wonder if it¡¯d be better to ask Yulia. This sounds like something she¡¯d love to be involved with. I¡¯m also interested in what kind of preparations she thinks she can do to prepare for the conflict with the estrazi. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±

    ¡°Going to stay in bed all morning?¡±

    ¡°Just until a certain elf gets up. Or moves her arm.¡±

    Kii groans, fidgeting but not making progress in getting up. From it, I know it¡¯s going to take rougher methods than a little shake to get her moving.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you two later.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-136

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°There is nothing wrong, dedia.¡±

    I don¡¯t believe her. As we walk through the halls of the James manor, my wife is clearly in a bad mood. It¡¯s nothing overt. While the elven provinces have the concept of royalty, they don¡¯t have the concept nobility. The strongest rules. They in turn promote the capable and the loyal to control their territory. While there are inter-province conflicts, there is very little politicking.

    That means there is no reason to nurture the blank facades that the nobles of Harvest need for their games. However, control is also a sign of strength. Kierra has nothing on a noble like Marquis Guiness when it comes to controlling her expression but she is also quite calm. Difficult to read if one isn¡¯t familiar with her but we are very familiar. Only knowing her usual moods would let an observer know that her small frown is abnormal.

    ¡°I know these people¡¯s idea of good food is severely lacking¡ª"

    ¡°The food is fine. During my training, my mother forced me to eat the intestines of my kills to discipline my appetite. Fresh and cold.¡±

    Saints, her mother is terrifying. ¡°Are you going to make me guess?¡±

    ¡°I am not upset¡­but perhaps I am a little bothered.¡±

    ¡°Okay. You¡¯re bothered. About what?¡±

    She stubbornly holds onto her silence until we enter the room our more fragile supplies, a ridiculous amount of booze, are being kept in. My plan for the shroom juice is to sell it to the northerners. After experiencing its effects, I¡¯m sure the members of Alana¡¯s army will vouch for the effectiveness of Howie¡¯s brews to their respective orders. If that fails, I know Kalise will take anything we¡¯re willing to spare.

    While we¡¯re checking the inventory, Kierra finally speaks. ¡°I am bothered, Lou, because it feels like we have lost.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± What is this crazy woman talking about? ¡°Lost? Lost what?¡±

    She puts down a barrel and holds up two fingers. ¡°We came to the north with two goals. To improve Alana¡¯s reputation with her family and to establish a base beyond the mountains.¡±

    One finger drops. ¡°We have improved Alana¡¯s reputation but she is shadowed by us. When anyone thinks of her, they will think of her bannerwoman that cannot be killed and her beautiful wife that made a man tear out his own throat. Perhaps we can still count it as a victory but it is a dubious one.¡± She wags the finger that remains up. ¡°Our second objective is a complete failure.¡±

    ¡°We have a very good reason for not following through with that,¡± I remind her, taking a seat on one of the crates. ¡°Harvest isn¡¯t prepared for a full-out war with another race.¡±

    ¡°Good reasons are still excuses. Remember, little conqueror. Strength is all that matters. If we were strong enough, we would not fear an army. If we were strong enough, we would not fear a dragon and its servants.¡±

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    ¡°No one is that strong.¡±

    ¡°Another excuse.¡±

    This may be an actual problem. ¡°Kii.¡± I stand up and walk over to her, grabbing her hands in my own. ¡°No one is that strong. That¡¯s just unreasonable.¡±

    She squeezes my hands. ¡°I know. The two decades I spent alone gave me a lot of time for reflection. My head knows that my mother¡¯s ideals are unreasonable. It knows that there is no need to push myself. I will live a long time. As long as I never tire of the journey, I can keep walking for millennia. One day, I will be that strong. I know these things but the heart is a strange creature. It is set in its ways and it tells me that we have failed. It also isn¡¯t wrong.¡±

    She pulls out of my grip. ¡°The level of strength that I speak of may be considered an unreasonable level for mortal creatures but¡­it exists. And because it exists, because it is possible, no matter how unreasonable of a goal it is, I feel like I¡¯ve failed.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not the one who said we should retreat.¡± I know damn well that if the decision was left to her, she would have built a forward camp twice as large as we planned to antagonize the Lords of Winter and thrown herself whole-heartedly into the war. She held back for us. ¡°If this is a failure, it¡¯s not yours.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her tone says she¡¯s not convinced. ¡°Then there is the hunt.¡±

    I throw my hands up in exasperation. ¡°Are you kidding me? You¡¯re talking about our kills, aren¡¯t you? Our army literally killed hundreds of monsters. You climbed inside a titan and tore it apart from the inside. How is that a failure?¡± And what in the name of the saints is a success if it is?

    ¡°Those were satisfying kills. But it is too little. Our army was the first to retreat, with the lowest amount of kills and not even the largest titan.¡±

    A hand covers my eyes in an attempt to disguise my exasperation. ¡°It¡¯s not a competition.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s always a competition, dedia.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± I sigh deeply. ¡°Okay. Fine. So, the other armies might have outdone us. You can still kick all their asses. Does that make you feel better?¡±

    ¡°There is also the matter of the estrazi,¡± she continues, ignoring my attempt to console her. ¡°Once again, we are retreating. It is not a tactical retreat, a simple move in a grander strategy. We are fleeing bunnies after scenting a wolf,¡± she sneers. ¡°We have failed our objectives, we have been outdone by the natives, and we are running away with our tails between our legs. Tell me again that this is something other than failure.¡±

    Ah. When she puts it that way¡­

    ¡°Do you not want to leave?¡± This whole time, I¡¯ve been weighing Alana¡¯s interests against my own. How Kierra might feel never occurred to me. I didn¡¯t think she¡¯d care, having no ties to the north and fewer to the kingdom. Now, that seems ridiculous. Of course she has her own opinions. Her own thoughts on what actions we should take. She may be keeping quiet, willing to put her concerns behind ours, but that doesn¡¯t mean they don¡¯t exist.

    ¡°No, Lou. Leaving is the right decision. If it were not, I would not let you make a mistake. As I said, I know the rest of it are circumstances that are unfortunate but unavoidable. It simply does not feel good.¡± She briefly caresses my cheek before grabbing another crate. ¡°I only wanted to share my feelings.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡± I trail behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist when she sets her burden down. With a chuckle, she tries to remove my arms but I hold on.

    ¡°I can¡¯t work like this,¡± she says, voice full of amusement.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± My wife is a rainstorm. Essential to the prosperity of a land, which would be me, but bringing with it all kinds of problems. But no matter the trouble she brings, she takes the trouble the rest of us brings in stride. I know I don¡¯t tell her how much I appreciate her nearly enough. ¡°I love you.¡±

    ¡°I love you too,¡± she responds immediately. ¡°What has brought this on?¡±

    ¡°I want to make you feel better.¡±

    ¡°There is no need to make a fuss. I will feel better when we return. Then, I will lay waste to this army of lizards and rip a few more scales off the dragon that protects them. I will present its skull to my mother. She may faint with envy.¡±

    ¡°¡­if that¡¯s what you want.¡±

    She smiles. In an impressive display of flexibility, she turns and pecks my lips. ¡°Your intentions are sweet but unneeded. Now, come. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can exchange these bottles for gold.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-137

    ¡°You are planning the Winter Rites?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s the party that happens after the campaign, then yes.¡±

    The old servant frowns and looks around. I don¡¯t know why he thinks it¡¯s relevant but there is no one eavesdropping on our conversation. ¡°You would take care not to describe the Rites as a¡­party.¡± His lips twist with distaste. ¡°The surviving members of the army celebrate their fallen comrades but it should not be described in such a flippant way.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I didn¡¯t mean any offense.¡± Burials are a sensitive topic. Their customs deserve to be respected, no matter how strange they are.  And that Alana called it a party too. ¡°I am planning the Rites for Alana¡¯s army and would appreciate a few insights.¡±

    He stares at me, probably judging my sincerity. Whatever he sees makes him scoff softly. Here is someone who remains unimpressed, or at least unintimidated, with me and the rest of my family despite our performance in the March. ¡°I don¡¯t know if a Rite is necessary. You suffered no losses.¡±

    You would think that to be a cause for celebration but the way he says it, it sounds like a criticism. ¡°These Rites are tradition. I thought you people were big on that. Anyways, Alana wants this to happen so that¡¯s that. I would appreciate it if you were helpful.¡± I step closer to him. ¡°I¡¯m surprised I have to ask twice. Normally, a loyal servant would be jumping at the chance to help a member of the family they serve.¡±

    Kierra, who is leaning against a wall a few paces away, raises her head and eyes him. Some people might think she¡¯s glaring. I think she¡¯s still sullen from our earlier conversation. Despite her posturing, I know she¡¯s still¡­bothered.

    Makes me wonder if her sense of failure is what caused her temper tantrum during the March. The last time she failed, her mother trapped her in the Enchanted Forest for twenty years. Geneva constantly reminds me that no one is infallible. Somewhere deep inside, very deep inside, she must have her own fears and insecurities. Hopefully, she¡¯ll open up about them. And hopefully I know how to help when the time comes.

    ¡°I am always willing to be of service to the James,¡± the old servant says dryly, not appreciating my insinuation. Figures. He takes offense at one little dig but Alana has been taking the snubs from her family with grace for years. ¡°I simply do not see how I can be of much help.¡±

    Alana must have told me to talk to him for a reason. ¡°If you can¡¯t advise me on what to do, how about what I shouldn¡¯t do?¡±

    ¡°Hm. Yes, I see how that could be useful. Perhaps we should sit down.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright.¡±

    I expect him to take us to a sitting room. Instead, he guides us to the small, attached building the family uses for training. The servant hands us two plush cushions to sit on. I stack mine atop Kierra¡¯s and settle in her lap as Bulliard leaves to fix us some tea. He doesn¡¯t bother with one for himself, kneeling on the wooden floor without the slightest sign of discomfort. Once we¡¯ve fixed our cups, he finally deigns to answer my question.

    ¡°If you truly wish to conform to Victory¡¯s traditions, then there are several things you should remember.¡±

    ¡°Should I be writing this down?¡±

    ¡°Is your memory failing you at such a young age, Lady Tome?¡±

    ¡°Wow. Didn¡¯t think someone with so many wrinkles could still have a sense of humor. Is that why the duke has kept you around for so long? The occasional laugh?¡±

    His slight grimace says he understands that the tone of this conversation is determined by him. Rather than grace, I respond to snubs with sarcasm and violence. ¡°It is nothing complicated. First, there is the order of entrance.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± At banquets large enough to warrant it, nobles are introduced based on their status. It¡¯s a little surprising Victory would bother with something so pretentious but the concept is familiar.

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    ¡°As the field commander, Alana should be standing at the entrance to welcome the army. The Moons and Stars are always first. Afterwards, who you welcome is a reflection of your preferences. Some don¡¯t pay much attention. However, many eyes are watching the young lady.¡±

    ¡°People reading too much into useless gestures. I feel like I¡¯m back in the capital.¡± Sigh. I don¡¯t know anything about these orders. ¡°Just give me a list that follows what the duke would do.¡±

    Bulliard smiles. Must like us falling in line with his lord. ¡°In addition, there are a few orders I would suggest the young lady not be seen welcoming at all.¡±

    ¡°Put it all on the list.¡±

    ¡°Good. There is also the matter of food.¡±

    I wave him off. ¡°I think we¡¯ll take care of that ourselves.¡±

    ¡°As long as you serve the traditional titan stew.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    He chuckles. ¡°You know that the armies bring back the heads of the titans they slay. It is tradition to cook the brains of the largest titan in many large pots of stew to feed the entire army.¡±

    My stomach heaves at the thought.

    ¡°It is said to give the warriors the wisdom of the ancestors.¡±

    How does eating monster brains make you smarter? If anything, it should make you sick! Ugh. If only traditions needed to make sense. I don¡¯t have to eat it, do I? No one¡¯s going to be watching to make sure I slurp down some brains, are they? I wonder if even Geneva can make that taste good. And is it even still edible? We¡¯ve been dragging around that head for weeks. I know food keeps better in the cold but that has to be pushing it, right?

    ¡°I have a recipe¡ª"

    ¡°No! We don¡¯t need that. Let¡¯s just finish talking about this par¡ªthe Rites. Anything else we should know?¡±

    ¡°The Rites are one of the few events where weapons are not allowed. Before you ask, grief-stricken, emotional knights do not mix well with drink and sharp instruments.¡±

    ¡°A given.¡± This is what shocks me the most. Eating the brains of their kills? Perfectly in-line with what I¡¯ve observed of these people. Keeping weapons away from drunken warriors looking for a fight? Incredibly reasonable and therefore very unexpected. Bordering on unbelievable.

    ¡°During the Rites, the knights tell stories of the fallen. If you let them, they will go on all night. There is an art to interrupting war stories without inciting a riot. Hopefully, you figure it out without too many incidents.¡±

    So, it¡¯s inevitable there will be incidents? ¡°You told me I didn¡¯t need to write this down.¡± This list is getting long.

    ¡°That is all.¡± Bulliard pauses to pour himself a cup of the bitter tea I haven¡¯t taken a second sip of. I swear, these people have no sense of taste. Which isn¡¯t surprising, since brains are a traditional food. Saints. ¡°May I be as presumptuous as to ask you a question now?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been helpful so why not?¡±

    ¡°Are you the reason Lady Alana wishes to leave?¡±

    ¡°That another one of your jokes?¡± I huff. ¡°This family has given her more than enough reasons to want to leave.¡±

    ¡°You are her lover. You could convince her to stay but you don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Why, by all that is saintly, would I do that?¡± I hate it here. Anyone who isn¡¯t insane would hate it here. And it¡¯s not going to get any better anytime soon.

    ¡°With you supporting her, she is practically guaranteed to be Victory¡¯s next commander. She will do well too, with a little training. With her mother¡­¡± He frowns. Reconsidering his words? ¡°I would have thought the power behind the title of duchess would appeal to a noble of the south.¡±

    ¡°No title is worth dealing with the north.¡±

    ¡°The James are unquestioned in Victory. Especially a strong James. If there is something that displeases you, you need only change it.¡±

    ¡°And if I said the war displeases me? How do you think it¡¯ll go if I try to change that?¡± I chuckle as his frown deepens. ¡°See? The position comes with more problems than it does powers. Who would be interested? I suggest you stop wasting your breath. At your age, I don¡¯t know how much you have left.¡±

    He glares at me. ¡°Victory¡¯s healers are not so incompetent I need to worry about my health. I will live for many decades. I had hoped to watch the house passed to capable hands. A shame.¡±

    ¡°Do you think so little of the other heirs?¡±

    ¡°No. They are James through and through. The same goes for Yulia¡¯s husband, a man of the north. Alana is¡­different. Perhaps she is merely blessed with incredible luck. Her affinity, being sent to the Grand Hall, coming back with you.¡± He looks at me meaningfully. ¡°Victory has pursued strength for countless generations and achieved nothing. I believe it may be time to prioritize something different.¡±

    ¡°¡­well. Great?¡± I¡¯m not sure how to respond to that. I know how I want to. I want to snap that no one cares what he thinks but that would be both petty and pointless.

    The old servant grunts as he climbs to his feet, collecting the tea tray. ¡°If that is all you needed to know, I must return to my duties.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the help,¡± I call as he walks off. That was a weak attempt to change our minds. But what should I expect from him? Knowing these people, they can¡¯t comprehend how anyone wouldn¡¯t want to throw their lives away for Victory. Asking them to persuade someone rational to their way of thinking is too high of a hurdle, I¡¯d say.

    ¡°Come on.¡± I stand and hold out a hand for Kierra. ¡°Let¡¯s go see a succubus about a stew.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-138

    Standing in the middle of the Witness Circle alongside Geneva as we direct the servants of the James family in setting up tables, a stuffy feeling fills my chest. The best way I can describe it is a mix of dread and nostalgia. It accompanies thoughts of what my life could have been.

    The noblewomen of the capital don¡¯t have many responsibilities. It used to be, in the time of the kingdom¡¯s founding, that the women were just as much warriors as the men. They had to be to survive the Great War. I imagine the fledgling Harvest resembled Victory in their attitude. They had to conquer the continent. There was no other option. Victory or death.

    It happened that it was best for the ladies to remain in the conquered territory to protect their new cities and growing families. With humanity routed and their numbers dwindling, large families were heavily encouraged. Motherhood became a duty more than a choice.

    After a few generations, duty became tradition. Now, it¡¯s a rare thing for ladies of Summer Spire to take up arms. Magic is seen as a hobby, a high coefficient and a powerful spell used for party tricks rather than slaying enemies.

    It¡¯s a rare thing for a daughter to take up arms. Practically unheard of for a lady. The exceptions are usually young peasant girls with few prospects who would rather fight monsters than end up in more unsavory careers.

    A noblewoman¡¯s pride is her family. Its wealth, prestige, and most importantly, its talents. Her role is to give birth to many children and guide their upbringing. She also represents the house in social gatherings, as the men are expected to be busy gathering achievements. Neither of which requires martial ability.

    If a madman never snatched me from the King¡¯s Road, it would be a future I would have to seriously consider. I might have dreamed of wandering the kingdom, doing odd jobs in whatever village I passed through for food and shelter, but I don¡¯t know if the old me could have done it. That¡¯s a hard life.

    Back then, I didn¡¯t have the strength to be so carefree. My ability as a summoner is real but my current contracts are a cheat. Without this god-given body of mine¡­I don¡¯t know what kind of contract I would have made. It certainly wouldn¡¯t have been to a creature as powerful or capable as Geneva.

    As useful as it is, summoning doesn¡¯t pay the bills. Father sent me to the Grand Hall with the expectation that I would work to stay. Odds are I would have left after a year or two. Then I would have had two choices; go my own way or return to the capital and play the part expected of me.

    I want to say I¡¯d never stoop to exchanging a marriage of convenience for an easy life but the truth is, two years ago, I thought about it. Usually with dread and distaste, but I thought about it. Under the suppression of the Grimoire family, the only chance of enjoying any form of status and luxury would be through joining a family of equal power.

    If I had, arranging and attending events like the one I¡¯m preparing would be my whole life. I suppose this is making me sentimental because I thought I would never be doing anything like this after my rebirth. How funny life is. Ah, well. I don¡¯t mind so much if I¡¯m playing wifey to a dashing Alana.

    Hm. I wonder if I should consider doing a little more like this in the future. We are not done with the north but Alana has given up being the Duchess of Victory. It makes me wonder what she will do in the future. I can¡¯t imagine her doing something as simple and unremarkable as joining a knight order, especially one not of the north. Far too tame.

    Beyond that, what else is there for an aspiring hero to do in a peaceful kingdom? If becoming a knight is too tame, joining a city¡¯s guard is a joke. The royal army is just as funny. They likely spend more time doing drills than fighting.

    What¡¯s left? Being a hunter? Impossible, unless we start our own guild. Ah. That¡¯s not bad. Guildmaster Alana James. Bringing a bit of the north to the south. We¡¯ll need something to do with our imminent influx of wealth. I¡¯m liking it more and more. I¡¯ll have to bring it up once we leave. Give the wounds inflicted by her home some time to scab over.

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    ¡°I brought the seadog, my love.¡±

    Earlier, I sent my sullen elf on an errand in hopes of lifting her spirits. Her tone hasn¡¯t improved but she looks much better than the haggard pirate son walking beside her. His face is lined with exhaustion and his appearance is scruffy. A hand absently scratches at his uneven beard as his tired eyes meet my own. ¡°You needed me, captain?¡±

    ¡°¡­you look like a titan swallowed you and shat you out whole.¡±

    ¡°Several weeks of running through ankle-high snow and not sleeping on a decent bed, interspersed with over a dozen life-threatening fights will do that.¡± Heh. If this was the old Arthur, he would already be cursing me. The new Arthur, despite his annoyance with me, doesn¡¯t dare.

    Whatever grievances he has, he keeps them deep in his heart and keeps a respectful demeanor. Always amazes me how different he is. It makes clouding a few memories look like child¡¯s play.

    ¡°How is the army?¡±

    His eyes move to Geneva, who is busy directing the servants. ¡°Would it not be easier to ask your pet?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping them on a short leash.¡± While Bell may seem innocent, she is more Geneva¡¯s creature than my own. All the succubi contracted to this realm are. ¡°Besides, I want your perspective. The army¡¯s perspective.¡±

    He sighs. ¡°Well, if I had to say, confused? They want to hate you but they¡¯re about to get paid and none of their friends died, which is more than most expected. You¡¯re also strong, so hating you is life-threatening, but if they forgive and forget, they betray a lifetime of gratitude to the guilds and their fallen comrades. They could also be fighting for their lives to stop you from robbing them in a few months. Aye, confused sums it up.¡±

    Confused, huh. Suppose that¡¯s better than angry. ¡°That¡¯s the hunters? What about the knights?¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know. They abandoned us as soon as we returned. Didn¡¯t make any friends there. Most crews don¡¯t make nice without good reason.¡±

    Good news? At least I don¡¯t have to worry about their attitudes. Or maybe I do. Bulliard implied there would be incidents.

    ¡°They aren¡¯t the types to gossip. Not that we had time to. We had to scarf down dinner before the fire was put out and who has the energy to chat while sprinting? From the little I heard, they seemed annoyed to be on such a small campaign but impressed with blondie, er, Alana. She didn¡¯t make any grievous errors and they loved having your creature prancing through the camp, waving away injuries. Heard a few whispers about the Stars keeping Alana so they can keep it.¡±

    No one can fault them. ¡°And the little job I asked you to do?¡±

    ¡°The hero.¡± Arthur scoffs. ¡°What can I say? He still hates you. Still thinks Alana is being deceived. Still thinks your creature is evil, which isn¡¯t wrong.¡±

    ¡°That is wrong.¡± Geneva is not evil. She is amoral. She has no concept of good and evil. Only what benefits her. If it will bring her benefits, she can be saintly. It just happens that ¡°evil¡± gets her what she wants faster most times.

    ¡°Not surprised you¡¯re defending it,¡± he mutters so softly it can¡¯t even be called a whisper. Conscious of my hearing but underestimating my abilities. ¡°He¡¯s calmed down,¡± Arthur says louder. ¡°Shifted his priorities. He¡¯s finally realized that if he wants to be better than you, he has to get serious. He¡¯s dedicating himself to growing stronger. Won¡¯t make trouble until he¡¯s ready to take you down.¡±

    Won¡¯t make trouble? I¡¯ll believe it when I see it. Ah, well. At least this means I don¡¯t have to worry about killing the kingdom¡¯s most valuable asset accidentally. I had real concerns that he¡¯d end up as collateral damage when the north demands its due from Quest. It¡¯s easy to imagine him trying to fend off the ¡°villain¡± harassing the innocent hunters. Never mind they got themselves into this mess.

    ¡°Good, good. Go on back and tell everyone that we¡¯re holding the Rites for Alana¡¯s army. The northerners will know what the means. For everyone else¡­tell them it¡¯s a funeral with drinks. Except we¡¯re not burning any bodies so I guess it¡¯s less funeral and more drinks. Ah. Since it¡¯s where they¡¯re usually paid, they should already know what¡¯s going on. Just tell people.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain. Sure thing.¡±

    ¡°Arthur?¡± I call as he starts walking off. He turns his head. ¡°I¡¯m not blind to your efforts.¡± Loyalty deserves a reward if you want servants to stay loyal. If I can throw pieces of myself to the succubi, I can give the pirate son a favor or two for his dedicated service.

    ¡°Can I look forward to it?¡± he asks, not waiting for a response before going on his way.

    Two long arms loop around my neck and a weight leans on my back. ¡°He is your first soldier,¡± Kierra mutters into my ear. ¡°Treat him well.¡±

    ¡°My first? What about our servants?¡±

    ¡°You said it yourself. They are servants. Guard dogs, not tracking dogs. I know hunters that raise the latter. They must be let into the wild. Their loyalty must be crafted carefully if you want them to come back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll treat him well.¡± I raise a hand to stroke her cheek. ¡°You going to let me treat you well?¡±

    She leans into the touch with a deep hum. Then she pulls away.

    I watch her walk away with a sigh.

 ARC 6-Winter War-139

    As the sun sets in the north, the preparations for the Rites are finished. The tables have been set out, over a dozen of them. Normally, that amount would be borrowed from a shop but there are no shops in Victory. The scarcity of resources and the constant drain of the war means that nothing is wasted and excess is frowned on.

    We needed to borrow furniture from the Moons. They aren¡¯t pretty either, marked by scratches and broken corners. Tablecloths, that are actually clean sheets, make them look better and that¡¯s as far as decorations go.

    Half the tables are dedicated to food, which Geneva is in charge of. As expected of her, the challenge of feeding an army a feast rather than a warm bowl of stew is not daunting in the slightest. She is also confident in working with the brain of the goliath. Even with her handling it, I¡¯m still reluctant to try that meal.

    The other tables are dedicated to drinks. Enough to keep everyone lubricated as well as extra stock. The good knights are about to receive a fistful of gold. The noble thing to do is offer them a chance to spend their newfound wealth on a worthy product.

    Inferno, Howie¡¯s brew that beats back the chills of winter, is running low, having supplied it to over three hundred bodies every night for a few weeks, but there is plenty of Herbanacle and Sanity. Very glad we never ran into the monsters that made the guilds request a brew that can weaken mana intrusion.

    That¡¯s the extent of the preparations needed. Northerners aren¡¯t ones for extravagance. Alana has also finished her preparations. The corpses have been cataloged and the gold paid out, minus a few of the giant murder birds Geneva plans to roast whole to feed our guests. Despite being handed a literal sack of gold, her mood is as dour as my elf¡¯s, though Kierra still denies being upset. She wears a thin frown as she changes into more formal clothes.

    For the north, that means fur. From what I¡¯ve gathered, white is the most common and a staple in northern fashion. Darker colors are rarer and, as such, are one of the few status signs in Victory.

    Draped over her shoulders is a silver fur, two legs and a head hanging down her chest while the rest hangs down her back. A gift from Yulia. She doesn¡¯t hate her sister enough to refuse it. Which means she is either weak to nice fur or weak to gifts in general. Something to explore.

    I don¡¯t have anything suitable for the event. It never occurred to me to bring party wear when packing for a warzone. A folly my old tutors would have smacked me for. A noblewoman always packs a dress, or whatever equivalent they fancy. It¡¯s the basics.

    Usually, this is when Kierra grows some grass to weave a vest and stitches a fresh hide into a pair of pants, but she isn¡¯t in the mood, quietly lounging on the bed while playing with a pliant Bell. She also isn¡¯t making an effort to dress up for the evening.

    I¡¯m a little better off as Alana offered me her cloak. The blue one lined with white fur that is a symbol of the Moons and Stars. She actually blushed a little as she handed it over. In the cold wasteland that is the north, handing over one¡¯s cloak to someone you¡¯re interested in is seen as a romantic gesture. The equivalent of giving someone flowers or sending a poem.

    It¡¯s funny that she gets embarrassed over something so basic after all we¡¯ve been through but I didn¡¯t say anything. Her being cute is too rare. I can¡¯t discourage her.

    Someone knocks as we are about to leave. ¡°Hello?¡± Yulia doesn¡¯t wait for an answer before opening the door. What was it Alana said? This woman doesn¡¯t understand boundaries at all. She is wearing a big smile as she stands in the doorway.

    ¡°Mm, it looks good,¡± she says while eyeing her sister. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s all you want? I have a black coat that¡¯d look amazing on you.¡±

    Alana sighs. ¡°I only accepted this because it¡¯s tradition. If I wanted a coat, I would get one.¡± Her fingers stroke one of the legs of the fur. ¡°It¡¯d be a waste. We¡¯re leaving soon. This is the only time I can wear something like this so you may as well keep your expensive stuff.¡±

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    ¡°Nothing¡¯s expensive between sisters.¡± The cunning bunny¡¯s smile fades. ¡°I have to admit, I was surprised to hear that you¡¯re leaving. But, I want you to know I don¡¯t disagree. Your sister supports you. Leave everything to me.¡±

    ¡°Shocking,¡± Alana mutters. Then louder, ¡°I bet you¡¯re thrilled I¡¯ll be out of your way. With Khan marked as a traitor and Zach having embarrassed himself beyond redemption, that only leaves you and your maniac husband as the next duke and duchess. That¡¯s what you¡¯ve always wanted, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Yulia smiles sadly. ¡°Would you believe me if I told you it isn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°No. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to wish you good luck. Another tradition.¡± She chuckles. ¡°I had a whole speech prepared to give you advice on handling the cremations but you¡¯ve completed your first campaign without any deaths. Something that isn¡¯t being talked about in the wake of this estrazi situation. Congratulations, Alana. You¡¯ve made history.¡±

    My future saint balks at the words. Then she hangs her head. ¡°Is that supposed to make me happy coming from you?¡± she grumbles, softer than a whisper.

    It clearly does, whether she wants it to or not. ¡°Congratulations.¡±

    She raises her head. I have the distinct feeling she is resisting rolling her eyes at me. ¡°Congratulations to yourself. It¡¯s as much your accomplishment as mine. More, really.¡±

    ¡°I see you still haven¡¯t learned to take a compliment,¡± Yulia says, turning to me. ¡°It¡¯s endearing, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes and no. I¡¯d rather she be a bit less humble.¡±

    The bunny blinks. ¡°Ah. Mm, that makes sense.¡±

    ¡°Are you done? We need to get to the Witness Circle before the first knights show up.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. I¡¯m done. Well, there was one little thing. I wanted to invite all of you to lunch tomorrow. The two of you are leaving soon. Don¡¯t you want to see your nephew before you go? I¡¯d also like to talk for a while.¡± Her eyes are earnest as she looks at her younger sister. ¡°Isn¡¯t it about time we did that?¡±

    I sigh, preparing myself for the harsh refusal that will crush the beautiful bunny¡¯s hopes for the nth time.

    ¡°Fine.¡±

    A refusal that doesn¡¯t come. I gape at Alana in shock. Yulia is a little more restrained but her surprise is easy to see as well, her facial control collapsing.

    My future saint scoffs at both of us. ¡°I do want to see my nephew. You¡¯re going to be in the middle of Khan¡¯s mess and¡­and it looks like you¡¯re the heir apparent, as long as you can control Zach. We should talk.¡±

    ¡°¡­I was kind of hoping we could talk about us. Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s past time we put aside childhood grievances? Please. Let¡¯s talk this out now. Before¡­other issues cloud matters.¡±

    What does she mean? Khan¡¯s impending death? Victory¡¯s impending war? Either one could make a hear-to-heart uncomfortable.

    Alana is unmoved. ¡°We¡¯ll have lunch. We¡¯ll talk. Don¡¯t expect anything more.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see.¡± The older sister looks quite disappointed. She may be a schemer but it¡¯s hard not to feel sorry for her. Maybe just for me, as I¡¯m weak to a pretty face. Alana certainly has no problem turning off her sympathy. ¡°Then, if it¡¯s going to be all about business, I was thinking about inviting your mother.¡±

    ¡°What does she have to say?¡±

    ¡°More than you think.¡±

    ¡°Fine. I needed to speak with her anyway. Arrange it.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Are you fine coming to our house? Young ones shouldn¡¯t be outside too often, they¡¯re still weak to the cold.¡±

    ¡°I see you don¡¯t follow all the traditions.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s more of a myth than a tradition.¡± Yulia turns to me. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know this one. They say some mothers of the old generation used to leave their children outside for a night after their birth. If they weren¡¯t strong enough to make it to morning, they were considered too weak to be a knight of the north.¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°It sounds unbelievable but it happened. Some might justify it by saying only the most extreme families participated in such an atrocity but I think losing even one life to such nonsense is unconscionable. That thinking is what I want to change. Being duchess is secondary.¡±

    ¡°Is this where I applaud?¡± Alana asks sarcastically. ¡°I¡¯m sure you will be remembered as the most selfless duchess to ever lead the north.¡±

    The bunny deflates. ¡°I¡¯ll let you get on with your night. Again, I wish you the best. Lou.¡±

    ¡°Yulia.¡± I shake my head once the door closes behind her. ¡°You¡¯re ruthless with her. Is there really no chance of reconciliation? Even on the surface? It might make her easier to deal with.¡±

    ¡°Yulia will never be easier to deal it. Right now, she¡¯s pestering me to be nice to her. The moment she thinks the relationship is repaired, she¡¯ll be pestering me for favors. Because anyone who cares for her will of course pamper her.¡± Alana sighs. ¡°Forget it. She made my life difficult for nearly a decade. She can wait at least that long for me to stop holding grudges. Let¡¯s just focus on tonight.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-140-Interlude-Robert

    Celebrating after a victory was a natural.

    After a breakthrough during training or if he did particularly well in a hunt, Robert¡¯s mentor, Sir Quintana, would take him out for a nice meal or soak with him in one of the more extravagant bathhouses. Nobles threw banquets to celebrate everything from the birth of an heir to their dog¡¯s birthday. The hunters liked to go for drinks after a job.

    Robert wasn¡¯t surprised that Victory had a custom of celebrating the completion of a campaign. He did have doubts about how successful it would be, the mood in the fort being ambiguous as it was. The stern northerners whispered together in the shadows of buildings and the hunters were anxious to leave. The only thing that kept them from bolting was their pay. It was also what lured them to the Witness Circle, a place that would likely haunt their nightmares for the rest of their lives.

    The night started as awkwardly as Robert expected. The north was always cold but nights were especially bad. The quiet snowfall dusting the shoulders and heads of those that dared to leave their warm abodes didn¡¯t set the mood for revelry, in his opinion. The fires spread throughout the field did little to help unless he stood right by the flames and there was a crowd around each one.

    If he were in charge of the acolytes, as Alana was passing out payments to the leaders of the different forces that comprised her army, he would have taken the money and distributed the crowns back at the bunkhouse they were staying in. No mess, no fuss, and they would be gone by morning.

    He wasn¡¯t in charge though. Unfortunately, Will had thicker skin. He endured the awkward atmosphere and accepted Alana¡¯s offer to share a drink. The hunters were the same, having developed a liking for the special drinks passed out every night during the campaign. It would be rude to be the only one refusing to join in the merrymaking, so Robert accepted a cup when it was handed to him.

    One drink turned into three. Like magic, he no longer felt the chill of the night. Or the previous tension that made him so conscious of the strange affair. He stood in a crowd as a drunken hunter grossly exaggerated his accomplishments. A common theme. They seemed to be taking turns, each one telling more outrageous lies than the speaker before them in an effort to draw the biggest reaction from their crowd. They weren¡¯t alone. The attending knights were also sharing stories, though they were more tame. Probably because they could handle the strong drink better.

    ¡°It¡¯s Quin, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Robert looked up. It took his blurry vision a moment to make out the face of the person addressing him. The moment the handsome features became recognizable, he felt a spike of envy. Robert considered himself good-looking. He hoped he¡¯d grow a little taller but he had no trouble having a conversation with ladies when he attended balls. According to his mentor, being fit, strong, and wealthy enough to maintain a household was more than enough to have women throwing themselves at him.

    The man in front of him could have none of those things and achieve the same, if not more, success. It was the kind of face that made Robert wanted to punch him, despite the friendly smile he wore.

    Beside him was a familiar face. Arthur stood beside the stranger wearing a small grimace. He raised his cup and took a small sip, as if he was savoring the contents. Or pacing himself. A rare show of restraint from the pirate son.

    ¡°Who you?¡± Robert slurred, the shroom juice compromising his eloquence.

    ¡°Lancecain. A member of the Polar Duelists.¡±

    He stuck out his hand out. Robert reflexively grabbed it, squeezing with all his strength. It was a contest no soldier could avoid, or so his mentor said. Lancecain proved the words right once again as he didn¡¯t hesitate to participate, applying a crushing force to Robert¡¯s fingers without the slightest change in his smile. It took an effort not to massage the aching digits once they released each other.

    ¡°Hope you don¡¯t mind the sudden introduction. I don¡¯t think I will have another chance to have a conversation with you and that would be a shame.¡±

    ¡°Oi,¡± Arthur grumbled. ¡°Look at his eyes, mate. He looks like he¡¯s half a cup from drowning. You need to use a lot less and much smaller words if you want to get through to him.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Robert protested. He was pretty sure the pirate son had just called him stupid.

    ¡°Haha, you¡¯re right. This is a time for remembrance and indulgence. I shall keep my business short. Quin, you would make a great Polar Duelist. On behalf of my order, I am officially inviting you to join us.¡±

    Robert snorted softly. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d received such an offer. Normally, he refused them with more grace but the drink had robbed him of that as well and his thoughts showed on his face. ¡°I decline.¡±

    ¡°You should think about it. Arthur tells me you have four affinities. I kept an eye on you throughout the campaign. You don¡¯t have much experience with them, do you?¡±

    Robert flinched. His training had focused on the sword. There were other demands on his time. Aside from learning to fight, he also received a noble¡¯s education, as he would undoubtedly be forced to mingle with them in the future. Besides that, his mentor was reluctant to teach him magic. He felt his own style, created through the necessity brought about through war, was too narrow. Better to give the masters at the Grand Hall a blank state to mold.

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    ¡°I understand that you attend the Hall. It is a good place to learn but my teacher tells me they are unfocused. It is amazing there exists one place to learn a hundred things. Victory has no place like that. Our orders teach one thing. How to fight.¡± Lancecain shook his head. ¡°If you had learned from the Duelists for a year, you would be far more capable.¡±

    Robert sneered. Despite the pleasant tone, or maybe because of it, he was almost sure he was being criticized and he didn¡¯t have to take such from someone who hadn¡¯t made an impact in the fighting either. ¡°Yeah? How much fighting did you do?¡±

    Lancecain sighed. ¡°Very little. We are meant to bring down titans but Alana didn¡¯t call on us, giving the task to her lovers instead. A wise decision. Duelists need a contingent of well-coordinated knights to subdue a target while a lethal strike is prepared. The elf apparently only needs her fists. You may remember my teacher taking down the first titan we encountered.¡±

    Robert thought back to the pass between the Peaks and the flash of light that preceded the first titan falling. ¡°You have the light affinity?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°You¡­what¡¯s your relationship with Alana?¡±

    The handsome young knight smiled crookedly, confusion evident. ¡°We have been friends for many years.¡±

    ¡°Just friends?¡± The chances of two people with the light affinity having no relation in one place, even one as populous as Victory, was rare. Three people having the light affinity but no relation was incredibly rare. Bordering unbelievable.

    ¡°Do you think we have some other relation?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± While Robert was filled with disbelief, pressing the issue would be impolite.

    ¡°You are rather worried for Alana. It¡¯s good to know she has friends at the Hall.¡±

    ¡°We¡­¡± He almost said they weren¡¯t friends. And they weren¡¯t by most standards. They hadn¡¯t interacted in a cordial way since those stolen moments during the qualifiers. That didn¡¯t make them friends. Alana had simply left a good impression on him. One exaggerated by his near instant dislike of Lourianne Tome that had grown into a proper grudge.

    But he couldn¡¯t say all that.

    It was too bad he had Arthur to say it for him.

    ¡°They aren¡¯t friends. Boy has some weird one-sided fascination with the girl,¡± the pirate son was quick to interject. ¡°Which I don¡¯t get. I mean, there are prettier girls with a lot less danger surrounding them, but the idiot is determined to fish troubled waters.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that!¡±

    ¡°And he¡¯s still insisting he doesn¡¯t have a crush.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a crush. He didn¡¯t want to sleep with her. Not that he would decline if such a situation came about, an event easier to imagine with his mind well lubricated. No, Robert simply had a conscience and it hurt to imagine a good person like Alana caught in the clutches of an unrepentant villain like Lou.

    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly understandable. Alana is a good woman. She¡¯s determined, driven, just, and loyal. She is also plenty attractive. Anyone would be lucky to have her as a partner.¡±

    Robert frowned. The way he was talking¡­

    Again, Arthur was quick to voice Robert¡¯s thoughts. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re lusting after her too?¡±

    Lancecain¡¯s smile wilted with embarrassment. ¡°No more than any man lusting for a good woman, I suppose. I don¡¯t have special feelings for her, if that is what you mean.¡±

    ¡°Sure didn¡¯t sound like it.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. It is simply a position I¡¯ve had ample time to consider. Victory has had the great fortune of producing at least one light caster every generation to pass on the legacy of my teacher. I will be the next to carry the burden and will hope another is born to take it from me when the time comes. My teacher was keen to remove a bit of the uncertainty. He often spoke of a possible union between us.¡±

    ¡°She was your intended?!¡± Robert exclaimed. He¡¯d heard nothing about this. Not that he was in a position to. Alana didn¡¯t consider him a friend so why would she discuss such sensitive topics with him?

    Arthur laid a hand on the young knight¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad. If there was anyone to lose your woman to, it¡¯s Lou. Nothing to be embarrassed about.¡±

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t my woman or my intended. It was something discussed by my mentor, but the duke is of the mind to let his children make their own decisions. It was always Alana¡¯s choice and her concerns lied more in developing her strength than developing a relationship.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Hearing she had brought back a lover surprised me to no end. Especially when I met Lady Tome. A more interesting pair I couldn¡¯t imagine.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    ¡°Ugh. An idiot too stupid to know when he¡¯s in love and another idiot who¡¯s letting his women choose him instead of the other way around.¡± Arthur drained the rest of his cup. ¡°You both need a good lay. I¡¯d take you both out on the town but there¡¯s nowhere to go in this wasteland. No offense.¡±

    ¡°Was that meant for me?¡± the young knight asked. ¡°Then no offense taken. To me, there is beauty in the north, but our land is inhospitable to outsiders.¡±

    ¡°I could say the same for my home.¡± Despite everything Robert had heard about how terrible Graywatch was, the pirate son always got a wistful look in his eyes when he thought about it. It made him the slightest bit curious. ¡°We¡¯ll have to do this at my place next time.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. Seeing the interesting characters coming through Victory has made me curious about the rest of the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Then why not leave?¡± Robert asked. A better question would be why stay. He couldn¡¯t understand why anyone besides the James, with their unrivaled status, would want to be here.

    Lancecain turned his head toward the looming mountains. ¡°Duty. Tradition. That¡¯s what most would tell you. The truth? I love it here. I can¡¯t imagine being anywhere else and will gladly lay down my life to protect my home.¡±

    Robert swallowed at the conviction behind his words. He knew he was meant to be a hero but the definition of that role remained blurry. Would he fight for the weak? Fight for the crown? Would he be beholden only to himself, deciding for himself what constituted a threat and how to handle it?

    Lancecain¡¯s goals were much narrower but also clearer. He was a knight of Victory. He would fight for it and he would raise another disciple to fight for it when the time came. Nothing more, nothing less. The young man radiated purpose. It was a little enviable. Robert affirmed his own determination. One day, a young aspiring hero would think the same of him.

    ¡°Come on, then.¡± Lancecain grabbed their shoulders and led them toward the drinks table. ¡°Both of you are still standing and have too many crowns. That¡¯s unacceptable for the Rites of Alana¡¯s first campaign. We shall drink until we can no longer tell the truth from the war stories.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-141

    For the son of a duke, Khan is in terrible shape. As the north does not have prisons or dungeons, the traitor is simple room devoid of any furniture. He¡¯s dressed in the same clothes we found him in, the smell telling me they haven¡¯t even allowed him to bathe. His wrists and ankles are chained to the floor near the left wall with barely any slack. Just enough to comfortably use the chamber pot beside him, I suppose.

    He looks up as I enter with Geneva, his dark eyes showing no reaction. ¡°I didn¡¯t think my father would send you as an executioner. Does he not want to stain his hands?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to kill you. I¡¯m here to heal you. Or at least give it a try.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to be healed. My condition is of my own design.¡±

    ¡°Something someone who has had their mind tampered with cannot say,¡± I mutter. The lack of furniture is a problem as I find myself without a seat, forcing me to sit cross-legged in front of Khan. He jumps as Geneva moves to his side. ¡°How are you feeling today?¡±

    ¡°Well as I can be while lamenting the inevitable struggles facing my family.¡± He flinches as Geneva places a hand on his head but keeps his eyes on me. ¡°You attempted this already, didn¡¯t you? Why waste your time?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your lucky day, Khan. What is very likely the most accomplished mental caster in all of Harvest is in this room. If anyone can restore your memories, and more importantly your father¡¯s trust in you, it¡¯s my pet. And all you have to do is sit there. Maybe have a conversation with me to pass the time.¡±

    ¡°Are you watching your creature? Afraid what it will do unsupervised?¡±

    I scoff. ¡°Afraid? No.¡± Geneva¡¯s schemes aren¡¯t to hurt me. The worst she¡¯s done so far is attempt to use my relationships to manipulate me, which I expect, and be too competent. Whatever else she is doing, she is making sure it doesn¡¯t intrude in my daily life and that is all I ask for. ¡°You may want to be afraid. If she can¡¯t heal you, well. The future doesn¡¯t look good.¡±

    ¡°I prepared myself for this when I returned.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it bother you that you don¡¯t know why you¡¯re willing to die?¡±

    ¡°A James son must always be prepared to die. It is enough that I know it¡¯s for a good reason.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the crux of the matter. You don¡¯t know. The estrazi could be hideous, disgusting creatures that let Victory march its little campaigns because they think man flesh is a delicacy. This fort could be their human farm and you¡¯re protecting them thinking they¡¯re, what, blue saints? Don¡¯t you see the problem? Because if you don¡¯t, that¡¯s another problem.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what they are. All I know is that they are good. Whether that knowledge is truth or fabrication doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    I frown. Is he an idiot? ¡°No, it does.¡±

    ¡°What do we really know about anyone? All we know is how those around us present themselves but that could be just as much pretense as my supposedly false impressions of the estrazi. We act on our impressions of people and causes. I believe the estrazi to be good. I believe they work in service of a greater good. There is no point in doubting that conviction, especially when the consequences of Victory acting recklessly are too dire to think about.¡±

    ¡­yeah, he¡¯s an idiot. Geneva, how does it look?

    [May I have silence, my summoner? This is delicate work.]

    Oh, she¡¯s working hard. First time she¡¯s taken that tone.

    ¡°Looks like we have some time.¡± I stretch out on my side. I¡¯m sticking around, both because there¡¯s not much else to do and I want to be here in case Geneva makes progress. The first day is important. She may not be able to solve the problem but I¡¯m hoping she can tell me whether she can or not. If not, then we need another plan. ¡°Want to tell me some stories?¡±

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    ¡°I would rather you leave me in peace,¡± he grumps.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, brother-in-law. Tell me some stories about Alana.¡±

    He sighs. ¡°They aren¡¯t very entertaining. Are you going to share stories as well? Like how the two of you became involved, as I find it very hard to imagine.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean? Alana¡¯s perfectly charming.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t used to be.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be the judge of that.¡±

    -

    ¡°So?¡± Several hours later, I am lying in Kierra¡¯s arms on Alana¡¯s bed while she stands beside it with crossed arms. Her stern frown says she¡¯s preparing herself for bad news. I wish I could tell her something different. ¡°How is Khan¡¯s situation?¡±

    ¡°I best let the expert explain it.¡±

    Geneva is perched on the end of the bed, stroking her tail with a hand while seemingly deep in thought. She looks up as I call her name and smiles. ¡°My apologies, Lou. You have presented me with quite the problem.¡±

    Alana¡¯s shoulders sag but she manages to keep the disappointment off her face. ¡°There¡¯s no hope, then.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that.¡±

    She immediately perks up. ¡°Then¡ª"

    ¡°Allow her to explain, little star,¡± Kierra interrupts. ¡°Or this may take all night.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Alana takes a deep breath before taking a seat on the bed. I hear the slightest rumble of displeasure from my elf as the dirty clothes touch the sheets. Alana hears it too because she huffs and quickly kicks off her pants. She raises an eyebrow at Kierra, who smiles in response. ¡°Continue.¡±

    ¡°Your brother¡¯s case is quite interesting. I knew at first glance that it was not the work of an amateur, but I underestimated the mastery of the one responsible.¡± She turns toward us. ¡°Hm. Imagine Khan¡¯s mind as a vase. The average mental caster who wants to obscure someone¡¯s memories wields their magic like a blunt instrument. They smash the vase, leaving the mind a field of broken pieces.

    ¡°Viewing them is like observing a painting where most of it has been obscured by black. Crude, but effective. Also fairly easy to repair. The pieces may be scattered but someone skilled can see how they fit back together or infer the rest of the painting from the small pieces they can see.

    ¡°Someone more skilled doesn¡¯t simply shatter the vase. They take the broken pieces and put them together in a new way. The mind appears whole, which makes it much harder to determine what is out of place. Before the mind can be repaired, it has to be shattered again. If done incorrectly, the healer can do irreparable damage. Difficult, but not impossible. If that were all, I would still be confident.

    ¡°What has been done to Khan is on an entirely different level. The vase wasn¡¯t simply shattered. The pieces were ground into dust, poured into a mold, and fashioned into a new shape. There is nowhere I can find fault in the work to begin unraveling it because his mind has not been broken. It has been completely reformed.¡±

    I let out a slow breath. ¡°I think I understand. This isn¡¯t a question of power. It¡¯s more that there isn¡¯t a problem to fix.¡±

    ¡°Essentially. To make things as clear as I can, this is the method I would use to accomplish the same goal if I thought someone of my skill would be examining him.¡±

    ¡°Which further supports the current theory that the enemy has a seer working on their behalf,¡± Alana mutters. ¡°They knew about you.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. I hope so. What they did to him, it had to have taken weeks. Maybe months. Maybe years. I would prefer they took action knowing about me in advance. If not, that means they are incredibly cautious and paranoid. They would have laid the groundwork for the spell, refreshing it again and again as Khan learned more compromising information, ready to take drastic action at any moment. A terrible opponent that would make.¡±

    I agree, that would be a terrible mind to face but is it worse than a seer that can accurately see months or years into the future?

    ¡°You said there was hope?¡± Alana asked.

    ¡°Another reason why I would prefer to face a seer, as they appear to be quite lacking. If they truly understood my capabilities, they would have killed him rather than risk giving him to me. Stay with me as I continue the metaphor. Wood has grain, yes? It always moves one way. Similarly, the mind has a pattern. It is subtle. The work done to him has made Khan¡¯s specific pattern even more subtle. But if I can discern it, I may, may, be able to replicate the process and put his mind back to its original state.¡±

    ¡°Say it directly,¡± Alana urges. ¡°What does may mean?¡±

    ¡°It means the chances are slim, but not impossible. Saying anything else would be misleading. I can tell you something definitively. The process will take longer than a week. At least three if I work non-stop and I will be useless otherwise. Maybe longer. A much more pressing problem, I think.¡±

    Oh, definitely. We¡¯re supposed to be leaving in a few days and if we go without healing Khan, his father will kill him. I turn to a deeply frowning Alana. ¡°What do we do?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-142

    Alana¡¯s features collapse, full of hesitance. An unexpected response. Her thoughts are plain as day, strong enough they¡¯ve shattered her placid mask, but she¡¯s hesitant to voice them. Is she scared? Scared of how I¡¯ll react?

    It may be terrible but the thought fills my chest with warmth. It means that she¡¯s thinking of me. Something I used to take for granted but has become much more precious to me after the disastrous circumstances surrounding the March. I¡¯m not confident I wouldn¡¯t have been upset if she immediately demanded what she clearly wants. Her hesitation, the fact that she values my feelings at least equally with her brother¡¯s life, is morbidly satisfying.

    It eases my mind and allows me to do what comes naturally. ¡°We¡¯re not going to let your brother die.¡±

    Her eyes practically shine with gratitude. She lets out a deep breath and smiles softly. ¡°Thanks, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Thanking me for not abandoning your brother makes me feel like some kind of villain.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d fit the role.¡± Her smile fades. ¡°I guess this means we¡¯re staying. I know it doesn¡¯t make sense that I feel guilty to be disappointed but I feel it anyway.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute. Don¡¯t be hasty.¡± I am not staying here.

    ¡°Yes, little star.¡± Kierra pulls me closer. ¡°Being close to a good hunting ground has its appeal but¡­this place has not been good for us.¡± Hearing the sullen tone that has persisted since yesterday, I lay my hand on the arm holding me captive. ¡°It would be best to distance ourselves and adjust our perspectives.¡±

    ¡°Then we have a problem.¡±

    ¡°Does it have to be? The solution seems simple. We take the boy with us.¡±

    Alana shakes her head. ¡°Khan is a threat to the north. Worse, he holds compromising information. No, his current existence is compromising. My father isn¡¯t going to want him out of Victory unless it¡¯s to scatter his ashes somewhere scenic.¡±

    ¡°I think he wants the information in Khan¡¯s mind more than he wants to control his whereabouts,¡± I counter. ¡°The only way to get that info is through us so I think he would be willing to entrust your brother with us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it? Khan stays here, he dies uselessly. If he comes with us, he has a chance to live and we may retrieve vital information in the war against the estrazi and an apparent threat against the world. The choice is obvious.¡±

    ¡°It would look bad. Khan¡¯s a traitor. Worse, he¡¯s a James traitor. The fort knows and they want to see him punished. Sending him away with us is too lenient. People will lose faith in my father. They¡¯ve already lost faith in Zach and Yulia inspires awws, not awe. He won¡¯t accept it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, your mother has a plan to safeguard the James¡¯ reputation. Maybe we can ask her for advice on how to approach your father.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    I frown at her confusion. ¡°What? What do you mean what?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who suddenly mentioned my mother. Her and Father may have been¡­intimate.¡± She shudders at the very thought, heh. ¡°But they don¡¯t have a good relationship. If it wasn¡¯t for me, they wouldn¡¯t have any relationship. It¡¯s surprising how much he tolerates her.¡±

    ¡°Wait. You honestly don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know what?¡±

    Okay, wow. How did she manage to hide this? Ah, wait. It¡¯s her job to control people¡¯s views. I suppose this is a testament of her skill. ¡°Before I delivered the report on Khan to your father, I overheard your mother talking with Bulliard. She¡¯s your family¡¯s gossip monger.¡±

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    ¡°A gossip what?¡±

    We stare at each other, both enduring incomprehension for different reasons. ¡°A gossip monger. The person who controls the rumors surrounding your family? Manages your image? Wields the perception of the commoners against your enemies?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding.¡± Her tone is thick with disbelief.

    ¡°I¡¯m not? Why are you finding this so hard to believe?¡±

    ¡°My mother isn¡¯t¡­¡± Alana shakes her head. ¡°She¡¯s not someone like that.¡±

    ¡°Then what do you think she does that can get her a place at the duke¡¯s table when the family discusses war secrets? How has she been supporting herself? From what I¡¯ve seen, the servants here don¡¯t make enough to buy nice dresses and work too hard to have such good skin.¡±

    Her brows furrow. ¡°I thought she was being supported by¡­friends.¡±

    Ah. She thought her mother had gone back to her old career. ¡°Don¡¯t you see the problem with that? Why would a, um, er, compensated special friend¡ª"

    ¡°You can say whore, Lou.¡± Despite the brave words, her tone is bitter. ¡°That¡¯s what she was. From what I¡¯ve seen, Victory is a lot more accepting of it than other places in the kingdom, but we use the same word.¡±

    I clear my throat strongly. This conversation feels like stepping around a field littered with hunters¡¯ traps. ¡°Ah, well, someone without status wouldn¡¯t be able to sit with your family. You know that better than anyone.¡±

    ¡°My mother isn¡¯t¡­how would she even do such an important job? Why would my Father trust her to do it? There has to be dozens, no, hundreds of people more qualified.¡±

    ¡°Are there? Your mother has, or had, a strong interest in ensuring the James¡¯ prosperity, she¡¯s a schemer, she has connections all throughout the fort from her work, and no one would ever suspect her. The last one is probably the most important as rumor work needs secrecy. She¡¯s perfect.¡±

    Alana¡¯s frown deepens. Is it so difficult for her to imagine? ¡°The important thing is that her support could be the key to persuading your father.¡±

    ¡°We should also talk to Kalise,¡± Kierra adds. ¡°No one will fight harder to save Khan than his mother. We are the voice of necessity. Alana¡¯s mother will be the voice of reason. Kalise, the voice of emotion. I do not believe even that cold man will be unmoved under such a barrage.¡±

    ¡°There. We have a solid plan.¡±

    ¡°Hold on. That¡¯s barely a plan. I¡¯m sure Kalise won¡¯t be a problem but we still have to talk to my mother. My father will also want a detailed report on how we plan to detain Khan.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll build a dungeon.¡±

    ¡°And when Dunwayne comes knocking on our door to ask why we¡¯re keeping my brother captive against his will?¡±

    ¡°We tell him the truth. He¡¯s been assaulted by a mental caster and cannot be trusted to act under his own will. We¡¯re keeping him and possibly everyone else safe while we try to heal him. Don¡¯t see how he would have a problem with that.¡±

    ¡°The kingdom is very nervous when it comes to the mental affinity. How much do you know about the law? Do you know if anything we¡¯re trying to do is illegal?¡±

    ¡°It is~¡± Geneva adds. ¡°The use of the mental affinity by unauthorized parties, regardless of intention or circumstances, is against the king¡¯s law. Offenders will be punished by indefinite detention or execution, at the crown¡¯s leisure.¡± Her tail wags under my heavy gaze. ¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised, my summoner. You have tasked me with accumulating influence in the capital without resorting to violence. The minimum required to play the game is knowing the rules.¡±

    ¡°See?¡± Alana waves a hand at her. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple.¡±

    It takes effort not to scoff at her excessive worry. ¡°I say you¡¯re overthinking it. Why would Dunwayne be questioning us? He doesn¡¯t need to know about Khan. No one needs to know. We knock him out and sneak him back to the house. Who¡¯s going to come looking for him?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about the probable. I¡¯m talking about the worst possibility. Don¡¯t tell me no one is going to be interested in what we¡¯re doing. After the stories the hunters are going to be spreading about the March and its consequences, anyone of any consequence is going to be paying rapt attention to us. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they had someone knock on our door daily to make sure we¡¯re not getting into any more trouble.¡±

    That¡¯s ridiculous¡­except it¡¯s not. Dammit, that sounds like exactly what scared and crafty nobles might do. Saints, that¡¯s a rather tame option. I¡¯m expecting spies and assassins camping in our yard and trying to sneak into our house nightly. Something I¡¯m sure my future saint didn¡¯t think of when she was so absorbed in crushing her brother.

    ¡°Then we tell a small lie,¡± Kierra offers. ¡°The duke will write a letter explaining the circumstances. However, we will not say that the pet is treating him but the moon lily.¡±

    It takes me a moment to understand who she is referring to. When I do, I almost sit up with excitement, but my wife tightens her hold to keep me in place. ¡°Miss Talia! She is a prominent mental caster. As the student of the head interrogator for the crown, I¡¯m sure she has whatever authorization is needed. Northerners are suspicious. If the duke wanted an outside consolation on his son¡¯s condition, the only one he would consider is the woman recommended by his daughter.¡±

    I grin at Alana. ¡°She makes the perfect cover. That gets Khan into the house and protects us from any unwanted suspicion.¡±

    ¡°That¡­mm, that may work.¡± She¡¯s warming up to the idea. She nods to herself and her frown relaxes into her usual stern facade. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about the details.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-143

    ¡°I suppose I should be grateful that my daughter has deigned to see me at all,¡± Roza says with a derisive sniff while seated at the dining room table. Lunch is not a common thing in the James household, leaving the table free for us to invite Alana¡¯s mother to a meal. Despite her cold tone, she hasn¡¯t made things difficult for us. She arrived at the table early, dressed in a simple brown dress and white fur coat, the latter thrown over her chair. She didn¡¯t even try to take the end seat, always a subtle power move, obediently taking the seat to the right of it.

    ¡°Good afternoon, Mother.¡± Alana takes the chair across from her. With a raised brow, I take the head chair. Her mother certainly notices, glancing at me with a frown before turning back her daughter. ¡°I¡¯m sorry it¡¯s taken so long for us to sit down.¡±

    ¡°I understand. My little girl is quite busy, hm? Leading a campaign, pursuing love, dragging back her traitorous brother. I¡¯m surprised you can stand up.¡±

    ¡°I could say the same for you. Khan¡¯s situation has made you busy as well.¡±

    Her mother smirks. ¡°Oh? Have the servants finally started trying to ingratiate themselves to you? Or¡­¡± Her eyes move to me.

    ¡°Guilty.¡±

    ¡°Will your wonders never cease?¡± Despite the words, her tone makes it clear that it¡¯s not a compliment. ¡°I don¡¯t know what rumors you might have heard so let me say things clearly. My role in the is that of the blinders worn by horses. The people of the north are strong of will but they are human. They can be distracted and misled. Out there, doubt leads to death. I eliminate that doubt.¡±

    Way to make manipulating people through controlling the spread of information sound noble. Alana wisely doesn¡¯t argue the point. ¡°I know. I wanted to talk to you about that¡­¡±

    Her mother¡¯s eyes narrow in suspicion before she arranges her features into a doting expression. ¡°Does my little sunshine need Mommy¡¯s help, hm?¡±

    Alana scoffs, face flushing with embarrassment. I hold back a laugh, as this is supposed to be a serious conversation, but I make a note of her reaction. I suppose there doesn¡¯t exist a child who can¡¯t be flustered by their parents. Awkward as our relationship is, if Father called me with such a sweet tone, I¡¯d probably be just as embarrassed. Or throw up, one or the other.

    ¡°Khan is the one who needs your help.¡±

    The fake smile on her mother¡¯s face disappears. ¡°I thought this was about him. Shall we save our breaths? While it makes Mommy happy that you¡¯re such a good girl, there¡¯s no saving him. The best he can ask for is a painless death.¡±

    Really hard not to laugh at my future saint¡¯s discomfort. Her mother certainly knows how to get under her skin. ¡°We may be able to help him. Which is why I want you to help us convince Father to release him into our care.¡±

    Roza shook her head. ¡°You want your father to let a traitor escape without consequences?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll return him once his mind has been healed.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what it will look to the north. It will look like their leader, the one they expect to embody Victory¡¯s ideals, is using his authority to spare his son when he would never allow another to do the same.¡±

    Alana bites her lip under her mother¡¯s glare and holds her silence so I take the opportunity to cut in. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be asking you for help if it looked good.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you wouldn¡¯t,¡± Roza scoffs. ¡°But¡­no, I don¡¯t think I will.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Alana barks. ¡°He could die.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I understand that. What I don¡¯t understand is why you think that¡¯s a bad thing.¡± She holds up a hand to forestall Alana¡¯s immediate rebuttal. ¡°Let¡¯s imagine the best possible future. Your father agrees to release Khan to you, you heal his mind, and he spills everything he knows to you. What then?¡±

    Her mocking gaze moves between us until Alana offers up a hesitant answer. ¡°I don¡¯t know but that shouldn¡¯t stop us from saving his life.¡±

    ¡°Wrong,¡± Roza snaps while pointing at her daughter. ¡°The consequences are always more important than the action. Especially for the two of you. You¡¯re practically drowning in ability. It¡¯s not a question of if you can do something. Accomplishing a goal is as easy as snapping your fingers. The only thing you need to consider is the consequences and that means they have to be considered twice as deeply.

    ¡°If you take responsibility for Khan, then you are responsible for him to the end. Imagine it, sunshine. He can never return to the north again. Even if your father can be convinced as to the sanctity of his mind and his allegiance, no one else can. And if he can¡¯t return to Victory, what will he do? Can he be a hunter? The thought is hilarious. Will he join a southern knight order? A joke. Take his chances with another noble house? None of them have any connection to the James. If they accept him, I suspect it can only be to discover the north¡¯s secrets.¡±

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    ¡°Aren¡¯t you narrowing his options a little too much?¡± I ask. This is what rumor mongers do. They direct the conversation until their audience sees things as they want them to be seen. The greatest defense against their methods is someone with a wide and skeptical perspective. ¡°There are life paths that don¡¯t involve fighting.¡±

    ¡°Oh, how amusing! Go on, Alana. Imagine your brother joining the bards in taverns. Or sewing clothes. Perhaps hard labor, sowing fields and building roads. Tell me, what other career can a James son have?¡±

    Alana winces but bravely offers up, ¡°He is a good cartographer. Surely, someone will value that skill.¡±

    ¡°Yes, if he could hold a conversation long enough with a stranger to market himself. Or if he knew the value of his skill. Has he ever handled a bag of crowns in his life? Can you say he won¡¯t be swindled by the merchants of the kingdom? I have no hope for him at all.

    ¡°Face it. If you save him here, you will be responsible for him for the rest of your life. His failures, his successes. Everything he does from that point forward can be laid at your feet. What if his loyalty really isn¡¯t caused by the manipulation of his mind, as we all have been assuming? What will you do if you find that he has genuinely sided with those creatures? If he forges an alliance between them and the nervous nobles of the kingdom? Can you take responsibility, Alana?¡±

    ¡°Stop talking nonsense,¡± Alana snaps. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°He might, Alana. You may be unwaveringly loyal but that is not the standard for all people. And if he does, can you strike him down? You balk at his death now. How much harder will it be to do it yourself?¡±

    She sneers. ¡°I¡¯m trying to spare you from that. Spare you from letting the burden of his life stain the rest of your life and your reputation. You don¡¯t have to take responsibility for it. Mommy wants you to keep being a shining ray of light. That¡¯s why I do all the dirty work. Let me take care of you.¡±

    Alana bites her lip, cowled as she thinks. I shake my head. This woman really knows how to get to her. Or maybe it¡¯s because it¡¯s her mother that she is having a hard time remaining stalwart.

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about the worst scenarios but what about the best?¡± I ask, drawing their attention to me. ¡°What if Khan has truly been compromised by the estrazi? If he betrayed his family against his will, doesn¡¯t he deserve the chance to be saved? Isn¡¯t the chance for information to end a war that you have been fighting for generations worth compromising tradition one time?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you are wrong. Victory is so strong because we never compromise tradition.¡± She scoffs. ¡°I may twist facts and use deceiving words to keep people happy, but I never go against the will of the north. Ever.¡± She has a point. Whatever their faults, the people of Victory are steadfast in their beliefs. ¡°If that is the best scenario, it doesn¡¯t compare to the worst.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s talk about the worst. Khan siding with the estrazi. Betrayal is terrible but if it¡¯s true, you have an open line of communication with the enemy. He seems to think they are the best thing besides mushrooms. If that is an intentional perception implanted by the estrazi, they may be trying to send a message that they desire a different end to your long conflict besides one side being annihilated. Have you thought of that?¡±

    ¡°Have you thought that it could be a simple deception to make us drop our guards? Draw our leaders out with the promise of negotiations to bring them all down at once?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been losing for centuries. Do they need tricks? They have¡­have you read the report we handed the duke?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Liar. Her features give nothing away but her heart rate spikes. I guess her powers don¡¯t extend that far. At the end of the day, she isn¡¯t a James, is she? ¡°Then you know they don¡¯t need petty tricks.¡±

    ¡°A titan will use the same strength to kill one knight as it would a hundred. You can never have too many means.¡±

    It¡¯s my turn to scoff. ¡°Is this a discussion? You aren¡¯t considering our request at all, just bludgeoning us with your reasoning until we give in.¡±

    Roza smiles sharply. ¡°Maybe you understand something of the north after all.¡±

    ¡°Is this it?¡± Alana¡¯s voice is low and full of venom. She slowly rises from her chair, glaring down at her mother with a heavy frown. ¡°Is this why you pushed me so hard? Is this my great destiny that you spoke of every night? Did I toil for years and years to do the same thing every James before me has done? To die the same death?¡±

    Her mother¡¯s face is ugly with too much emotion. ¡°Sunshine¡ª"

    ¡°I told you to stop calling me like that!¡± her daughter snaps ruthlessly. ¡°Answer me. Do you believe in me? Did you ever believe in me? Or am I just a convenient tool? A face to hide behind as you rule the north?¡±

    ¡°Of course not!¡± Roza jumps to her feet. ¡°Sun¡ªAlana, you can¡¯t mean that.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t? Right now, I am making a decision for Victory. One I think will benefit everyone. I do it knowing that it skirts, if not outright defies, tradition. You say that you do what you do to support me yet you have done nothing but argue against me since we¡¯ve sat down.¡±

    ¡°I only want to protect¡ª"

    ¡°I don¡¯t want your protection!¡± Alana shouts, cutting her off. ¡°You didn¡¯t care about protecting me when you urged me to fight in the campaigns! You didn¡¯t care about protecting me during training! You wanted me to be a leader? This! This is me leading. So, tell me Mother. Are you going to support me?¡±

    My heart thumps in excitement as they stare at each other for several long moments. That¡¯s my Alana. Strong, stubborn, and decisive. An Alana her mother apparently isn¡¯t used to handling. It takes a long time, the minutes dragging on, but she is the first to break, shoulders slumping with a deep sigh.

    ¡°The other mothers always told me children go through a rebellious phase. I suppose part of my job is letting you make your mistakes and protecting you anyway. Very well, sunshine. I¡¯ll support you.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-144-Kierra

    Kierra tried not to think about her time in the Enchanted Forest. While her punishment ended rather well, the two decades of enforced solitude had been¡­trying. Going from the boisterous Dusk province to a life void of even the most basic pleasures had been torture. The only true kind her mother could inflict on her. Others would have cut and bled her until her resistance to pain crumbled. A futile effort with her affinity. Her cruel and crafty mother attacked her mind. Doing more damage than she intended, unaware of her daughter¡¯s secrets.

    After a while, she became accustomed to the silence. She told herself that she had even come to like it. The bustle of her home had seemed strange once she returned. Besides her strong urge to be far from her mother while still under the sway of her unusual sexual cravings, her unease being in the thick of Dusk¡¯s bustling nature drew her to the human continent. Lou thought she had made a great sacrifice leaving her family. She always reminded her otherwise but she didn¡¯t say that coming north had been a timely and much needed escape.

    Though perhaps she had come too far north. Amazingly, Victory reminded her both of the home she had run away from and the forest that served as her prison for two decades. The fort was too quiet, especially at night, and the people¡¯s suicidal zeal resembled the elves of Dusk far too much. The place irked her in a way few things could. She blamed it for why she had been unable to shake her bad mood and her questionable actions.

    The worst being how she had pushed Lou. She would freely admit that she exerted influence on the powerful young woman in order to mold her into a more ideal partner, but she never did anything to hurt Lou or that she thought her wife would truly hate. Until the March.

    In hindsight, the signs that she was pushing too hard were obvious, but she had wanted to fight. She didn¡¯t need to think about uncomfortable things when she had enemies that needed defeating or prey to be slaughtered. The more intense the battle, the better.

    When she was clawing her way through the body of the goliath, the world void of anything besides muscle that felt as tough as the bark of the trees in the Enchanted Forest, a sea of blood she could struggled not to drown in, her heart thumping with excitement, suffering from mana strain as she drained her magic like a Twilighter with a barrel of wine, the creature¡¯s magic robbing her of all sounds, she¡¯d been in her element.

    If there had been more excitement like it, perhaps her bloodlust would have devoured her other emotions. But there were no more fights of such an epic scale and all too soon they had turned around. Marching back to the silence.

    Kierra could be stubborn but she didn¡¯t think of herself as foolish, and using violence to avoid her problems was a bit foolish. Especially when it didn¡¯t work. When they returned to their home in the Grand Hall, she would have to¡­address her problems in a different way. If only to prove herself to Lou.

    They had settled their grievances but a blind woman could see that things were different between them. Things might always be different but she would be a wyvern¡¯s dinner if she didn¡¯t do whatever she could to make sure they got better instead of worse.

    That was a trial for later. Today, she had a part to play in saving the little star¡¯s brother. As her lovers spoke with Alana¡¯s mother, the elf knocked on the barbarian¡¯s door.

    She was rather surprised when Eleanor responded rather than Kalise. The other woman seemed similarly caught off guard, her normally stoic expression compromised by her eyes widening before she composed herself.

    Kierra grinned. ¡°Am I interrupting?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Eleanor replied as Kalise shouted, ¡°Yes!¡± from inside. Quickly followed by, ¡°If that¡¯s Greenie, tell her to come in. No, tell her to come in once she brings back more of that Herb stuff.¡±

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    ¡°You don¡¯t need any more drink,¡± the duke¡¯s first wife snapped back. An arrangement Kierra shook her head at. Multiple partners were quite normal in the provinces. However, harmony in the family was also important.

    Taking a lover for the night was one thing, with few consequences that needed to be considered, but to unify with another was a lifetime oath. It was unseemly to inflict a lifetime of quarreling and grudges on someone. That is why it was so important that all lovers approved of new additions to the clan. Why she had stressed to Lou the importance of selecting partners and the right of rejection. Something the people of Victory didn¡¯t understand.

    They also didn¡¯t understand the concept of flowers. Gentle spirits like the duke¡¯s third wife, Ariza, who had a vital role in their violent culture. The fighters challenged each other while the flowers promoted harmony. She should have been the one smoothing the tension between Eleanor and Kalise. Instead, the duke isolated her, caring only for his own peace. Leaving his other wives to butt heads until they killed each other.

    Kierra strongly disapproved. If it had been her, she would have beaten the man within an inch of his life, assumed his role, and taken control of the clan herself. Though she¡¯d never have been in such a position. Other people¡¯s relationships weren¡¯t her problem but, having spent too long amongst the family, she couldn¡¯t stop herself from considering it.

    ¡°I do not have drink with me, but I think you will want to invite me inside besides.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for whatever game you are playing.¡±

    ¡°I want to speak to the loud one about her son.¡±

    The blue eyes narrowed into a glare. ¡°That¡¯s not something to joke about.¡±

    ¡°I am bad with humor. Will you let me inside?¡±

    Eleanor scrutinized her from head to toe before stepping back, opening the door wider. Kierra followed her into the room. It was cleaner than the last time she¡¯d visited. The elf attributed that to the first wife. It certainly wouldn¡¯t be the work of the brooding woman seated on the edge of the bed.

    She looked up as they stopped beside her. ¡°You really came empty-handed? Damn. I expected more from you, Greenie.¡±

    ¡°This did not seem the occasion for indulgence.¡±

    ¡°She wants to talk about Khan.¡±

    Kalise sobered at the words. ¡°And what¡¯s brought on this sudden bout of generosity?¡±

    ¡°It is not generosity. It is practicality. We believe we can unravel his mind and what we find inside will be valuable, but we do not want to chain ourselves to this fort to accomplish this goal. Alana intends to petition her father to release him into her care. I told them that you would be eager to speak on his behalf.¡±

    Kalise jumped to her feet. Her mouth opened, likely to give her quick consent, but the words were stopped by Eleanor grabbing her arm. She glared and Kalise met the look with a scowl. ¡°It¡¯s better than what we were going to do.¡±

    ¡°Simpleton. You don¡¯t know their true intentions.¡±

    ¡°I just told them to you.¡±

    Eleanor scoffed. ¡°And that¡¯s the end of it? No one is that simple.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, mama cat.¡± Kalise pulled her arm free of Eleanor¡¯s grasp. ¡°I may not know a lot of things, but I know about her kind. She doesn¡¯t play your games. Isn¡¯t that right, elf?¡±

    Kierra grinned. ¡°I do love games, but this is not the occasion.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Kalise¡ª"

    ¡°I know want you want to say but I really don¡¯t care one way or the other. All that matters is that she wants to help. I want to listen to what she has to say because, right now, all our plans are shit.¡±

    ¡°Infuriating woman. You do understand that things can get worse, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°How? We¡¯d be walking under stormy skies for the rest of our lives if we sneak Khan out of Victory. If Greenie wants to take the risk, I say we let her and thank her for the sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°You are welcome but there is no risk. Your husband will give us your son willingly.¡±

    Some of Kalise¡¯s excitement waned. ¡°You got a miracle in your pocket?¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so now I¡¯m the one doubting?¡±

    Eleanor shook her head. ¡°If they think they can convince our lord to pardon Khan, then there truly is no risk. If they are not inciting the hatred of the north, and by consequence forfeiting the assets promised to them by the March, I¡¯m more willing to trust their motives. The question now is, what do you want for your help?¡±

    Kierra shook her head. ¡°The two of you are determined to make this complicated. Very well. Shall we say a future favor from each of you?¡± One thing she did hate about living amongst humans was their wily nature. Deception was rare amongst her people. There was no need when it crumbled so easily before true strength. It got tiring after a while.

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°Is there anything else you can offer my clan?¡±

    ¡°¡­I suppose not.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then, shall we discuss your roles?¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-145

    In the capital, it would be unusual for knights to have a larger residence than the family that sponsored them. Even for an order of knights that could have dozens of members compared to the moderate household of a noble along with their servants.

    A few of the more famous orders manage it by investing in themselves, expanding through generations of wealth. It is, however, completely unthinkable that a noble would grant their forces a more lavish residence than themselves. To pay for its construction, furnishing, and upkeep out of their own pocket. Just another way that Victory has proven to be far outside the norm.

    The Order of the Bleak Moon, the knights sponsored by the James family and the largest order in the north, has a building worthy of their station. It¡¯s more appropriate to call it a compound. Unlike the drab gray boxes that seem to be the staple of the north, the home of the Moons has character. A lot of character.

    At the western end of the fort is a large, two-story building that curves backward like a crescent moon. Its gleaming white stones look like a pain to keep in their pristine state, but I can¡¯t spot a speck of dirt despite my incredible vision. It has the same slanted metal roofing as every other building, but the grooves hammered into the metal sheets and the curling at the end makes them look stylish instead of bleak.

    The upper face of the building has strange windows along the entirety of the second floor. At least, I want to call them windows, but it¡¯d be more accurate to describe them as strange holes carved into the stone. Windows have a covering, usually shutters or panes of glass. These holes don¡¯t have so much as a cloth covering them, letting in the wind and rain without protest.

    Given that they closely resemble the silhouette of swords, ending in an obvious point, I¡¯m half-inclined to think they are decorations. If we were anywhere but the north, I wouldn¡¯t have any doubts. The wealthy have done crazier things for their aesthetics but I can¡¯t imagine northerners being so frivolous.

    I don¡¯t get to see much of the inside of the building as our destination lies beyond it. Pressed against the enormous wall surrounding Victory, the strangely shaped building acts as a smaller wall, protecting the vital buildings situated in its courtyard. Small personal residences used by the field commanders of the order and their families.

    Very small by a noble¡¯s standards but cozy enough. The true luxury is the privacy they afford. Anything will look like a palace when the alternative is sharing a living space with hundreds of people.

    The further from the main building they are, the more luxurious the home, culminating in a residence that a wealthy merchant would be pleased to own or a high noble might accept staying in while on vacation.

    While the Northern Devil is quite famous and Yulia is a James, the two of them don¡¯t have many accomplishments. Her last name comes with many benefits but extra consideration in regards to housing isn¡¯t one of them. The bunny and the devil share one of the smallest homes near the front of the courtyard.

    As expected of Alana, she has no idea where her sister¡¯s residence is. One of the Moons kindly leads us to the door of their home. Yulia has at least tried to spruce the place up. Where all the other doors are a plain brown, hers is painted a dark blue that stands out against the white stone. The extreme cold and tough soil hasn¡¯t dissuaded her from maintaining a garden, ice fashioned in a facsimile of manicured grass, hedges, and flowers. Whoever is responsible went as far as to mix dye in the water to give the garden color. It isn¡¯t as vibrant as a natural garden but against the white backdrop of the rest of Victory, it¡¯s positively stunning.

    A relatively elegant solution to the problem of landscaping. I can imagine the whole of Victory adopting the practice. It¡¯d go a long way to making the place less gloomy but, again, the people of the north aren¡¯t concerned with frivolities like ice gardens.

    Perhaps exposure to more of the finer things in life will change their opinions. The knight escorting us takes more than one glance as we approach. Alana too, for that matter. She doesn¡¯t want to be, but I know she¡¯s impressed.

    We don¡¯t have the chance to knock before the door is thrown open by the duke¡¯s eldest daughter. She looks positively delighted to see us on her doorstep. Probably because she never imagined the day would come. Despite the circumstances, it still took some coaxing to get Alana to visit her sister.

    After a round of greetings, Yulia sends the knight away and ushers Alana and I inside. The duke¡¯s wives came for my elf first thing in the morning. Opening the door to Eleanor¡¯s scowl with Kalise smiling over her shoulder was a surprise but not nearly as much as Kierra walking off with them while telling us not to wait for her. The three of them have gotten together every day since Kierra spoke to them about our plans for Khan. I never imagined them becoming so friendly but spending time with the other women has improved her mood so I leave her to her new friends.

    As for my succubi, Geneva is busy with Khan. We¡¯ve established that she won¡¯t make any progress restoring his mind while we¡¯re here. Her assignment for the moment is to scan his mind for any problems. Alana¡¯s brother appears to be in control of himself but that could be a facade. Whoever stuck their fingers in his mind could have planted suggestions that won¡¯t show themselves unless he encounters their specific trigger.

    Such as leaving Victory. Or encountering a target the estrazi want dead. If we¡¯re going to take him with us, I would like to know beforehand if he¡¯s going to cause us any trouble.

    Bell is spying on the hunters, gathering information for the March. I¡¯ve talked to Alana about settling Victory¡¯s debt. This time, I am determined to avoid another senseless slaughter. If the estrazi truly are preparing to start another war with the kingdom, the last thing we need is to be at each other¡¯s throats. We will claim Victory¡¯s due and we¡¯re going to do so without razing Quest to the ground and inciting civil war.

    In preparation, Bell is doing a little rumor mongering herself, using Arthur as a cover. Planting the idea of negotiation in their heads. Probing them to find the upper limit of loss they can accept without raising arms. Ferreting out the names of the decision makers in the guild who can sway the rest to reasonable decision. Shifting their dislike for us to Emberton, who made a quick escape after the March and can¡¯t defend himself. Small efforts that will save thousands of lives in the future.

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    Something that could easily have been put off till later but having the imp beside us for this conversation would be too much of a temptation. Yulia is a hard woman to understand. Harder still to judge. It would be easy to have Bell open her mind but wanton use of the mental affinity is detestable. She isn¡¯t a threat so there would be no justifying it either.

    No, Alana and I are going to have to handle our relationship with her sister by ourselves, for better or worse.

    ¡°You have a lovely home,¡± I compliment without feeling. There isn¡¯t much to see other than the banner of the Bleak Moons hanging over the large fireplace but it¡¯s good manners anyway.

    Yulia smirks. ¡°Thank you. The lack of furniture and decorations really sets off the plain stone, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°So it¡¯s on purpose?¡±

    ¡°This is home but it¡¯s not home. There are unspoken rules about these things. It¡¯s best not to change too much.¡±

    ¡°Tell that to your garden.¡±

    ¡°Do you like it? I had to convince Aunty for months to let me do it. It takes a lot of work in the beginning but it¡¯s very easy to maintain and when it¡¯s time for us to move, it¡¯s as simple as putting the water into barrels.¡±

    ¡°Already planning on moving?¡± Alana grumbles, subtly prodding her sister for her ambition. After all, a change in residence means a change in status.

    Yulia is unfazed. ¡°My husband wants to be the leader of the Moons. Isn¡¯t it only right I have faith in him?¡±

    ¡°Are you sure he doesn¡¯t want to be duke?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can understand that he will be whatever Victory and his family need him to be. You used to say the same things once.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s that son you¡¯re so proud of?¡± I blurt before Alana can vent her rapidly mounting frustration. Yulia had to know those were fighting words. Maybe her patience isn¡¯t without end.

    Thankfully, she isn¡¯t beyond taking the helping hand I¡¯ve extended. ¡°The bedrooms are upstairs. This way.¡± She leads us beyond the bare welcoming room to a long hallway. At the end of it is a narrow staircase that forces us to walk single file as we ascend.

    There¡¯s an immediate difference from the moment we reach the second floor. On the wall on the top of the stairs is a painting. A landscape of a green hill beneath a clear blue sky. Nothing remarkable but very telling.

    I don¡¯t think Yulia wants to change Victory. I think she wants to leave it for greener pastures. But she won¡¯t because she¡¯s a James and a James will always choose Victory. If she can¡¯t leave, she¡¯s determined to make it closer to her ideal.

    A sudden wave of pity for the poor bunny longing for summer fills my chest but I push it down. Can¡¯t let Alana see it. My lips are fixed in a stiff smile as Yulia gets into the tour. There isn¡¯t much to see. The second floor only has three rooms. The kitchen, the bedroom Yulia shares with her husband, and a small room that was probably meant for storage but is occupied by their son.

    ¡°Here he is.¡±

    Playing on the floor of the smaller bedroom is a small boy. In his hand is a wooden figure that closely resembles a knight. He waves it around at wooden animals, bashing them into each other occasionally. It really does start from birth.

    He looks up as the door opens and a big smile stretches his chubby little cheeks. ¡°Mama!¡± he shouts excitedly as he climbs to his feet. He wobbles back and forth but manages to stay upright as he wobbles forward, latching onto his mother¡¯s leg. She quickly scoops him up, turning toward us with a matching smile.

    ¡°Lou, this is Allen.¡±

    ¡°Allen?¡± I glance at Alana from the corner of my eye, but her attention is wholly focused on the little boy. There¡¯s no way¡­is there? I don¡¯t know if I would be impressed or afraid if she really named her son after Alana to improve their relationship. I¡¯m probably overthinking it.

    Though I do understand why she calls him Butterball. He¡¯s very¡­round. Something he¡¯ll likely grow out of given the kind of place Victory is but for now, he¡¯s soft and adorable. The opposite of the north. Not to mention those bright green eyes that remind me of the painting at the top of the stairs. I can see why Yulia adores him, besides the love of a mother for her child.

    ¡°Baby, you probably don¡¯t remember your Aunty Alana. And that¡¯s her¡­¡±

    ¡°Wife.¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    ¡°What? It¡¯s only a matter of time, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Alana turns away, face flushed.

    ¡°And that¡¯s Aunty Lou,¡± Yulia finishes with a chuckle. ¡°Say hello.¡±

    The boy stares at me with wide eyes practically shining with innocent curiosity. His empty hand reaches toward me¡­and I recoil as if he¡¯s got the touch of death. That doesn¡¯t dissuade him in the slightest. He leans toward me, ready to fall out of his mother¡¯s arms if it means reaching his prize. There¡¯s that James¡¯ stubbornness.

    ¡°Do you want to hold him?¡± Yulia asks. To which I quickly shake my head.

    ¡°You don¡¯t like kids?¡± Alana asks and I don¡¯t like the contemplative tone of her words.

    ¡°No. I like kids. I just¡­don¡¯t know how to handle them.¡± So innocent and impressionable. I am keenly aware that I have a questionable personality. The wrong words or casual action could change the direction of Allen¡¯s life. Scar his little mind forever. And they¡¯re so fragile, especially with my new strength.

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s no time like the present to learn.¡± Yulia steps forward as I step back. I¡¯m prepared to skip away from her for as long as it takes for her to give up but Allen¡¯s whine brings me to a stop. His big eyes are wet with tears as he stares at me, free hand still waving in my direction.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to make him cry,¡± Alana says with a smile, clearly amused. ¡°Just hold him for a bit.¡±

    ¡°You hold him,¡± I grumble, dread mounting as his whining grows louder.

    ¡°Come on, Lou. I promise it¡¯ll be fine. Here, I¡¯ll help you.¡±

    I¡¯m filled with reluctance as the bunny approaches and puts the butterball in my stiff arms. I hold him like he¡¯s already cracked glass and will shatter with the slightest movement. Remaining stock still even as his little hand reaches for my eyes.

    ¡°I guess he likes purple,¡± Yulia says, pulling her hands away. My anxiety jumps to another level as she steps away. Just before I start to sweat, Alana puts a hand on my shoulder.

    ¡°Relax,¡± she whispers, leaning forward to whisper in my ear. Her other hand pokes the little butterball¡¯s stomach and he grabs the offending finger while giggling, his previous tears long forgotten.

    ¡°I can punch through a wall with these hands.¡±

    ¡°You can also be gentle. I would know.¡± She coughs self-consciously. I don¡¯t have to look back to imagine her reaction. Her sacrifice works, calming me irrational panic. I can control my strength, especially in a quiet and calm environment like this. I hesitantly raise Allen higher, meeting his eyes. ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Eyyy.¡± He smacks my cheek with his wooden soldier before dropping it. I reflexively catch it and put it back in his hand which excites him to no end, the little boy squirming happily. He¡¯s like a puppy.

    ¡°Thank you for coming, Alana,¡± Yulia says from my opposite side. She makes faces at her son, making him giggle and wave his hands.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to thank me. I came to see my nephew.¡±

    ¡°Hasn¡¯t he gotten big? I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll blink and he¡¯ll already be marching past the Peaks.¡± Her tone sobers as she lays a hand on the boy¡¯s dark hair. ¡°I know you don¡¯t have a good opinion of me, Alana. Which is why I don¡¯t want you to trust in me. I won¡¯t stop trying to make things better between us but for now, you can trust in Allen. That everything I do is for his future and the future of all Victory¡¯s children. You can believe in that.¡±

    Alana doesn¡¯t answer her sister¡¯s heartfelt words¡­but she also doesn¡¯t mock them. For her, that may as well be acknowledgement. Her hands reach for the butterball. ¡°Here, let me hold him.¡±

 Poll-Miniarcs and Main Arcs

    With the last miniarcs finished on Patreon and Arc 6 nearing its end in the free chapters, it¡¯s a good time to address a few questions. Good points have been raised that the miniarcs make the time between the main arcs, the heart of the story, too long.

    The alternative. The miniarcs are kept entirely to Patreon and free chapters only get the main story. The main story can be understood without reading a single miniarc, as they amount to bonus content and sneak peeks, but small summaries would be posted to give readers an idea of what they contain.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    This would mean a shorter time between the main story but there would be a break between arcs. Between one or two weeks.

    Also, should the miniarcs be updated chapter by chapter, like now, or posted all at once. The latter would require more breaks throughout writing. A few long weekends, nothing drastic.

    Everyone has two votes.

    So?

 ARC 6-Winter War-146

    If the duke is surprised by the crowd of people that push into his study, it doesn¡¯t show on his face. One week has passed. It¡¯s time to deliver my judgment and decide Khan¡¯s fate. What he no doubt expected to be a quiet conversation between the two of us has become a rather crowded conference of all the involved individuals.

    As the main character of this show, I¡¯m in the lead. Geneva stands beside me, looking as cute and unthreatening as ever. Behind us are Alana and Yulia. The latter is a last-minute addition. Alana decided that her sister had a right to speak on behalf of her brother. Honestly, I think it was less morality that led to her accommodating her sister and more a pair of big, green eyes. My future saint is weak to children, something I already suspected after the Wenry incident.

    Bringing up the rear are the older women. Two of the dukes wives, a grim-faced Eleanor standing beside an equally and unusually dour Kalise, who is holding back Bulliard who tried to stop them from entering. Kierra is leaning against the wall near them, arms folded as she prepares for a good show. She doesn¡¯t have a direct role in the conversation, but should this devolve to brutish threat exchanges, I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be happy to join the fun. Beside her is Roza, presence muted as she similarly waits for her moment.

    ¡°Lady Tome.¡± The duke gazes at the unexpected additions before bringing his gaze back to me. ¡°I meant for our meeting to be private.¡±

    ¡°I apologize for breaking etiquette and surprising you, but they have a matter that relates to our discussion. I think it¡¯s better we all talk together.¡±

    He takes the measure of the room before dipping his head. ¡°Very well. What is your judgment?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t speak in circles. We haven¡¯t been able to heal Khan but there is a chance. It¡¯s going to take time, though. Time we aren¡¯t willing to spend in the north.¡±

    ¡°There is no difference.¡±

    ¡°There is a big difference. We may be able to save him. We just don¡¯t want to do it here. Which is where my proposal comes in. You let us take Khan back to the Grand Hall. Once we have tried our methods, we will return him to you either whole or broken to do with as you please.¡±

    ¡°Impossible,¡± the duke replies immediately. ¡°Khan is a known traitor. The people of Victory expect judgment. Exile is too lenient.¡±

    I turn to Alana¡¯s mother as she steps forward, hearing her cue. ¡°Perhaps not, my lord. Bulliard delivered my proposal for how to handle the Khan problem. This can make it even better. We present Khan as mentally ill. His sister, having recently come back from a campaign where she didn¡¯t lose a single soldier, takes in her brother. She vows to heal his madness and return to avenge him.¡± Her gaze moves to her daughter. ¡°Of course, this hinges on my daughter returning.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± she grouses, ¡°but first I need distance from this. We all do.¡±

    ¡°We do not need distance, we need action. Your method makes for a good story, but a story is not enough. There is a chance for doubt.¡±

    ¡°A chance, yes.¡± A point of contention between us. Roza refused to give us her unconditional support. The truth of it is, our way does leave room for doubt in the hearts of Victory¡¯s people. The duke¡¯s doesn¡¯t.

    Roza has gotten to where she is because the duke can trust her, at least when it comes to the matters of the north, implicitly. She refuses to compromise that relationship to make us look better, especially because the duke wouldn¡¯t be fooled for a moment. ¡°I think the chance is worth the possible gains.¡±

    ¡°Supposing the information my son provides isn¡¯t tainted, what would a prisoner and a pawn know of the enemy?¡±

    ¡°It is impossible to know what is inside his head and there are more important things at stake.¡±

    ¡°Like the goodwill of your family,¡± I add.

    Roza winces at my bluntness but doesn¡¯t correct me. That prompts the duke to look around the room again, re-examining the determined expressions on his family¡¯s faces. ¡°I see.¡± His hands press against the top of his desk as he stands, leaning forward and frowning. ¡°I am the lord of Victory. My wives and daughters do not dictate my actions.¡±

    I scoff. I¡¯m a godling and my wives often dictate my actions. Does he think a title means he doesn¡¯t have to care about anyone other than himself?

    Eleanor¡¯s response is more civil than what I¡¯m thinking. ¡°Are you not a father as well?¡±

    ¡°My responsibilities come first.¡±

    ¡°What responsibilities?¡± Kalise snaps. ¡°What about your responsibility to your son? To me?¡±

    Not even her impassioned shouting is enough to break his stern mask. ¡°You knew who you were marrying.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I knew Erenheart. I accepted that our children would be soldiers in a never-ending war. The clans aren¡¯t much different. Here, they would be little lords and ladies. My children, nobles! A privilege they would have to fight for, but we must fight for everything.¡± Her lips twisted into a sneer. ¡°You never told me my son would die to make you look good.¡±

    ¡°What happens to him is a consequence of his own actions.¡±

    ¡°How?! Someone fecked around in his mind!¡±

    ¡°He chose to forsake the campaigns and venture beyond the Peaks alone, despite lacking in strength. He exposed himself to the enemy. It is no surprise they were not merciful.¡±

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    ¡°Are you blaming him for being attacked?¡± Kalise growls, eyes glowing. She looks one second from throwing herself at him and not in the fun way. Eleanor grips her arm tightly, but she doesn¡¯t look happy herself.

    ¡°My family has as much history in the north as the James,¡± the stern woman says slowly, voice tight with her effort to squash her emotions so they don¡¯t compromise her speech. ¡°My father grew up knowing he would die in the campaigns one day. I grew up knowing the same. When we were engaged, I knew my children would die too. As I got older, I had to accept that some of them would die before me. They have.¡±

    She takes a deep breath. ¡°Everyone who goes beyond the Peaks does so knowing they may not return but they do it because they believe in Victory. In our traditions. One of which is that we do not abandon our own. If there is a shred of life left in a soldier, we bring them home. If they can be healed, we save them, so they can fight again. Khan is not dead. He is sick. The ancestors say that he must be healed so he can fight again another day.¡±

    The duke closes his eyes, a heavy silence filling the room as he appears to think. After several long moments, he lets out a deep sigh and opens his eyes. Something in his gaze speaks to exhaustion. ¡°Do you think I am eager for my son to die? I have already lost far¡­far too many.¡±

    He shakes his head and whatever vulnerability in his gaze I think I saw is gone. ¡°Victory can survive the loss of Khan. What it cannot survive is doubt. If they doubt us, they doubt our mission. If they doubt our mission, they doubt our traditions. And if our traditions cannot be trusted, then there is nothing holding us together.

    ¡°Nearly every man and woman in the north can fight and fight well. I am not Alana¡¯s bannerwoman.¡± His eyes move to me. ¡°I can lose my head and I will not stand up. The James family is not the strongest. Nor have we ever been. Yet, our rule has never been questioned. Victory has never revolted. We have always been united. Why? Because of our will. Our strength may be contestable but our devotion to Victory¡¯s ideals is not. No James, not one, has ever failed to follow tradition.

    ¡°We have ruled this harsh land for so long because no one is confident they could do the same. I have lost four sons. What father thinks he could do the same and continue to look after Victory¡¯s interest? Who could bury child after child and send those that remain back into war? Who can do that generation after generation? No one! No one but the James has the will! That is why they respect us! Why they follow us.

    ¡°Our will, our sacrifices, bind Victory together. If we lose that identity? It all crumbles. If I spare Khan, in any way, then the duke of Victory is not a man of unbreakable will. He is a normal man. A man with a heart. A man who can falter. A man that can compromise. If that is the case, then the duke of Victory can be any man. A man stronger than me. A man smarter than me. All it takes is one. One man with enough ambition to think he can rule better than me. One man with enough belief to think that I have betrayed the north as well. One incident and our unity, that is already strained, fractures. Then, it is only a matter of time until it breaks.¡±

    I stare with wide eyes as the duke sucks down a deep breath, having spent it all on the longest speech I¡¯ve ever heard from him. I¡¯m not the only one shocked. Everyone is gaping at him as he retakes his seat.

    ¡°If it were just myself at stake, I wouldn¡¯t hesitate. I¡¯ve been lucky so far and lived a long life but my body is tired. I have too many old injuries that ache and too many defeats to run at the northern hordes with the same energy as the younger men. I believe Khan may hold advantages in his mind. But all the advantages in the world aren¡¯t worth the chance that Victory tears itself apart. We cannot risk it. Not now.¡±

    He looks at his wives. ¡°I won¡¯t ask for your forgiveness. I am choosing duty over our child. I also won¡¯t allow you to stop me. I did what I could for Khan but there will be no more stalling. He will be executed.¡±

    A poignant silence lingers after he finishes speaking. His family is shocked into silence. Both with his unexpected wordy reasoning and his logic.

    I understand. I still think the north and everyone in it is a special brand of crazy but I understand his concerns. Why he thinks he doesn¡¯t have a choice.

    If variations of that speech have been drilled into his head by his family since he was a child, it¡¯ll be in his bones by now. And he has to believe it. What else could comfort him at night after burying four sons? Certainly not his wives.

    ¡°¡­is this some kind of joke?¡±

    Unexpectedly, the one to break the silence is Alana. I¡¯m taken aback by her quickly mounting anger, displayed clear as day on her twisted expression. If Kalise looked ready to throttle her husband earlier, my future saint¡¯s scowl says she wants to rip his heart out and feed it to him in small pieces while Kierra keeps him alive.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to let Khan die¡­out of fear?¡±

    That gets the biggest reaction out of the duke so far. ¡°I am not afraid,¡± he snaps. ¡°The James¡ª"

    ¡°Who gives a flying fuck about that stupid name!¡± she yells, cutting him off. ¡°I¡¯m sick of it! Years and years I struggled for it. I thought it meant everything. Since you haven¡¯t figured it out yet, let me tell you something, Father. It doesn¡¯t mean a damn thing!

    ¡°You think the north needs the James? I haven¡¯t heard a funnier joke in my life. If we all disappeared, right now, do you think Victory will simply cease to exist? That the war ends?¡± Her laughter is sharp and cruel, not a trace of joy to be found in it. ¡°Get over yourself! This is Victory¡¯s war, not the James¡¯! And something else, you selfish bastard! You are a man. A normal man. Because if you were this force you¡¯re trying to describe, if you had a truly unshakable will, then you¡¯d save your son and hold Victory together, whatever it took. That¡¯s what I would do. And you¡­you¡­¡±

    She sounds absolutely disgusted. The duke¡¯s brows are furrowed so heavily, he could likely fold a piece of iron between them. ¡°Those words are easy for you to say. Centuries of tradition and thousands of lives aren¡¯t yours to consider. You have the luxury of following your heart.¡±

    ¡°The worst part of it is, a part of me agrees with you,¡± Alana bites out. ¡°It says it makes sense for him to die for this family¡¯s reputation. That he was going to die for Victory anyway, so does it really matter how or when? If this was before, I wouldn¡¯t have questioned it. But I¡¯ve seen real power. It doesn¡¯t give a shit about honor, duty, tradition, or your last name. Power is power. That¡¯s what the estrazi have. If a dragon flies over Victory, your stupid traditions aren¡¯t going to do shit to stop it!¡±

    ¡°Wait a fecking moment,¡± Kalise shouted the same time Roza shouted, ¡°Did she just say a fucking dragon?¡±

    ¡°Did he not tell you that?¡± Alana asked sarcastically, turning around. ¡°When the estrazi ambushed us, we found a dragon scale. One that still had mana within it.¡±

    ¡°Meaning it either came from a live dragon or was found before the mana could fade,¡± Eleanor explained softly.

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± Kalise shook off Eleanor¡¯s hand. ¡°Ignoring how fecking ridiculous this is, if there¡¯s a dragon coming, we all need to leave Victory. Now.¡±

    ¡°Leaving isn¡¯t an option.¡±

    ¡°The feck it isn¡¯t! Saints¡¯ blessed asses, the kitten is right. The north has the best fighters I¡¯ve ever seen but that doesn¡¯t mean a damn thing against a dragon.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t confirmed,¡± the duke tries to argue again but his wife isn¡¯t hearing it.

    ¡°Confirmed? Even a possibility is too much!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I said,¡± Alana grumbles with vindication.

    ¡°They destroyed a continent, Erenhart. A whole fecking continent! What in the shit-churning Abyss do you think a few thousand knights are going to do against that kind of power?! You want to kill our son when this whole kingdom may be drowned in dragon magic because of your family¡¯s crazy war?! No. Feck no. I¡¯m not asking your permission anymore. My son and I are leaving.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-147

    The tension in the room takes on a more sinister identity. Kalise is a straightforward woman. Her first response to a problem is action, preferably violence. Standing around talking goes against her nature but she¡¯s been enduring because it appeared to be the best route to saving her son. Now that a dragon may lie at the end of that road, she is changing course and falls back on her nature.

    The duke is not happy being threatened, as he¡¯s made it clear that we will have to go through him if we want to take Khan away. I think he¡¯s even less happy being defied. It can¡¯t be something he¡¯s used to.

    ¡°This is why I did not spread the information. All the ancient texts agree that dragons do not involve themselves with the other races. The Great War was an aftereffect of an internal conflict. They did not care about us. Their lesser cousins that caused mayhem on the other continents were not dispatched on their orders. There is no reason to believe they would involve themselves in this conflict but the mere mention of them could compromise even the north¡¯s will.¡±

    ¡°Today is not tomorrow.¡± Kierra shares her first words, looking bored with the conversation. ¡°And all things change. The long-lived races take more time to do so than others but all change. To assume you can predict the actions of any being after five centuries is foolhardy.¡±

    ¡°Especially after such a large event,¡± Eleanor adds. She is fighting her instinctive reaction to the revelation with rationale, her mind spinning to keep her heart from racing. I hear it slow with every passing moment. ¡°The Great War could have changed their culture. Perhaps one of the lesser races, as you put it, caused the fighting and they have adopted minimal intervention in certain places to avoid another war.¡±

    ¡°Minimal intervention is still enough to kill all of us a hundred times over,¡± Kalise reiterates.

    ¡°If there is a dragon,¡± Roza counters, frowning heavily.

    Eleanor glares at her. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised you jump to defend him. This is more serious than clinging to his thigh, Roza.¡±

    ¡°I agree. This is incredibly important. While I am annoyed that he kept this from me for even a week¡­¡± She pauses to give the duke a nasty look. ¡°I understand. Moreover, I agree. Logic says there is no way a dragon is involved and the creatures having a scale is happenstance, but the mere possibility of another explanation makes me tremble. If this information is shared recklessly, forget the fate of Victory. It¡¯ll tear Harvest apart.¡±

    Tired of the conversation that isn¡¯t going anywhere, I raise my voice. ¡°There¡¯s only one person in this house that can answer your doubts. So, the question is, does the duke think ruling out the possibility of a hostile draconic element aiding the estrazi is worth maybe offending his knights?¡±

    ¡°It damn well better be,¡± Kalise grouses.

    The duke is dark and imposing standing straight with his shoulders hunched and his fists balled at his side. ¡°I do not know,¡± he says slowly. Kalise lets out a chain of colorful curses, but he talks over her. ¡°I understand your arguments but if I agree with them, that will be acting out of fear and that is not Victory¡¯s way. If I spare Khan, I can¡¯t know if I¡¯m doing it for the north or for my own selfish reasons. When there is doubt, we have to look to the ancestors for guidance. Traitors are to be executed. Those compromised by the mental affinity are to be executed.¡±

    ¡°I understand tradition,¡± I say before the angry mother can start screaming again. ¡°I understand rules established for the benefit of the community. Summoners have a whole book of them. They do,¡± I assure Alana, who gives me a doubtful look. ¡°One of the biggest is that summoners aren¡¯t allowed to form a contract before coming of age.¡±

    A well-trained adolescent may have a large enough mana core to form a contract without suffering permanent mana strain, but they make terrible negotiators. ¡°There are certain things you don¡¯t promise an elemental and there are realms you don¡¯t touch. I do understand¡­your grace.

    ¡°Yet, you seem to be forgetting something. Traditions are not there to rule you. They are there to guide you. Otherwise, Victory wouldn¡¯t need a duke. Summoners who thoughtfully go against the rules can make history.¡± That¡¯s what my father wanted to do. Until I convinced him to send me to the Grand Hall, he was insistent on me marrying. Not because he thought my partner could shield the family from the Grimoires, but he was interested in testing the next phase of his Zero Affinity Theory. Forming contracts between weak, non-corporeal elementals and children.

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    Father¡¯s four elementals have grown significantly in the twenty-odd years since he¡¯s contracted them. In another twenty years, they¡¯ll have coefficients over 300. By the end of his lifetime, Father will have four master casters, in power if not skill, contracted to him for only a sliver of his own mana. That¡¯s when he planned to oppose Gordon Grimoire Sr., his childhood bully and eternal rival.

    That¡¯s one summoner. He painted a picture of every member of the Tome family contracting the same weak elementals, allowing them to grow over a lifetime. Our elders would each have four masters of each of the basic affinities as their servants, alongside whatever other contracts they forged. In two or three generations, we would be an unrivaled power. More than enough reason to compromise a tradition or two.

    ¡°Traditions don¡¯t decide Victory¡¯s fate. You and the people you lead do. If you¡¯re going to kill your son, at least have the guts not to blame it on a bunch of dead people.¡±

    ¡°Easy, Lou,¡± Alana whispers.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± I say. Suppose their ancestors are a sore point. ¡°No offense to them but they aren¡¯t here holding a sword to your neck. This is your decision and your decision alone. Your choice because we¡¯ve given you another option. You don¡¯t have to do this. You want to. Can¡¯t imagine what Khan did to make you hate him¡ª"

    ¡°I don¡¯t hate my son!¡± he snaps, slamming a fist on his desk.

    ¡°Of course not. You just really want to kill him. Is that it? Do you get off on burying¡ª"

    The howling of a storm fills the room as a strong gust of wind slams into me. I would have hit the wall if Kierra didn¡¯t step into my path to catch me, her bare feet cracking the wooden floor as she uses brute strength to stop my momentum. I never take my eyes off the duke, my attacker, waiting for his next move.

    He looks furious but the glow leaves his eyes. I guess this isn¡¯t going to devolve into a fight. Which may not be a good thing. I think I¡¯m finally getting through to him. Some part of him.

    ¡°No wonder you¡¯re scared to go against a dragon,¡± I mock as I straighten up. Beside me, Kierra is tense. If he throws another spell at me, she¡¯s going after him. It¡¯s clearly written on her face. The rest of the room is torn. I have no idea where their loyalties will fall if it comes to a fight. ¡°You don¡¯t dare to attack an upstart in your own home.¡±

    ¡°Then you know your words are out of line.¡±

    ¡°Reason wasn¡¯t getting to you so I thought I¡¯d try insults,¡± I say seriously, using a grave tone to counter my ridiculous words. ¡°I was hoping to shock you back to your senses. How about it? Have you changed your thinking?¡±

    ¡°No. And this conversation is over. I believe you and my daughter need to prepare for your departure. Leave Victory¡¯s affairs to me.¡±

    ¡°Erenheart!¡± Eleanor grabs the barbarian¡¯s arm as Kalise takes a menacing step forward.

    ¡°We won¡¯t come back.¡±

    The room turns to Alana, the finality in her voice cutting through the tension like a sword. ¡°If you execute Khan, I leave Victory and I never return. My house comes with me. Do you want to fight a war the north has been losing for centuries without our support? No, don¡¯t answer. Everyone already knows. You need help. You know you need help, otherwise you wouldn¡¯t have opened the fort to the hunters. If you want us, things are going to change.¡±

    Her father¡¯s gaze focuses on her with an uncomfortable intensity. A bad feeling sprouts in my stomach. ¡°You ask me to change the traditions that have defined us since our founding for you. My daughter that does not want to be in the north.¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°¡­your house may be worth it¡­but only if you return.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    ¡°You are already leaving.¡±

    She grits her teeth and my bad feeling grows. ¡°Are you calling me a liar?¡±

    ¡°No. We may not have spent much time together but I know your character. So do the ancestors. A James always chooses Victory.¡± He straightens up. ¡°Next year, the armies of Victory will march together. We will pierce through the north and discover the truth. If you pledge yourself to march with us, I will trust you with Khan.¡±

    And suddenly, my bad feeling makes sense. This cunning bastard. This is all a trick. His hard stance, losing his temper, attacking me. I thought it was out of character but attributed it to a man distraught at the thought of losing another child. Should have known better. He may truly be upset but he would never lose control. Unless it served a purpose.

    He isn¡¯t concerned about tradition, someone usurping him, or executing his son. Hasn¡¯t he said it the whole time? His first concern is Victory and Victory¡¯s best hope is us. Alana is currently disillusioned with the north and everything about it. She is preparing to leave. And though she says we¡¯ll return, he can¡¯t know that. He needs every advantage he can get if the estrazi have designs on his territory. He can¡¯t afford for his daughter and her lovers to divest ourselves of the north. The goal of this conversation isn¡¯t to save or doom Khan.

    It¡¯s to extract a promise from Alana.

    ¡°I intended to anyway. I promise I will return. Khan¡¯s life is no longer your concern.¡± And just like that, his ploy works.

    What can I do? Despite realizing it, he has us cornered. Alana doesn¡¯t want her brother to die and she doesn¡¯t want us to tear through the north to save him. She wants to return. So do I. My ancestor is involved in this mess and I want to see it through. But this manipulation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

    The duke doesn¡¯t even have the decency to look pleased. He retakes his seat with his usual grave expression. ¡°Then we have an agreement. I will leave the matter of your brother to you. Since you are here, there is another thing we need to discuss before your departure. The details of the March.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-148

    March to the Ancestors.

    A bloody northern tradition where two groups with irreconcilable differences meet on the Witness Circle and settle their conflicts with extreme violence. Both sides wager everything they are. Their lives, their wealth, their legacies. To the winners, everything. The losers are forgotten. The debt incurred, absolute.

    As we understand it, Zachariah James gave the hunters the knowledge of Victory¡¯s tradition of dueling away differences to test me. He had no intention of inciting a March, but he had to know the hunters were getting in over their heads. He calculated that they wouldn¡¯t understand the gravity of northern traditions when they laid down their challenge. No rational person would think that a few sentences could doom their entire guild and their families. Even if someone explained it to them with illustrated examples, they¡¯d think it was a joke. And once they were involved, the consequences kept them from retreating.

    The March has always bothered me. Chiefly, that such an insane tradition exists in the first place. Second, how the insanity of Victory appears to be infectious. Its influence makes everyone a little crazy. Alana is especially susceptible, though our fight seems to have brought her back to her better senses.

    That insane tradition and my relationships consumed most of my attention, meaning I let the little concerns pass me by.

    Like, why would Zach use the hunters to go after us? Northerners look down on outsiders. He heard rumors from Quest that gave him an idea of Kierra¡¯s strength. Comparing that with his knowledge of the average hunters¡¯ strength from previous campaigns, he should have understood, or at the very least doubted, their ability to bring us down.

    Once could argue that his actions were reserved and the situation simply spiraled out of his control. After all, he didn¡¯t tell the hunters about the March, which could spark a civil war. What he gave the hunters was a way to challenge us that made it difficult to refuse. If they killed us, great. If they didn¡¯t, he¡¯d have a better idea of our strength and could plan accordingly. It was Kalise that brought up the March.

    From the outside, he looks innocent. But he grew up here. He¡¯s lived with Kalise all his life. He should have known or had an idea about how she would react. Yet, he risked it anyway. He risked quite a lot when he already had a strong position as the favored heir and his opponent was an unknown bastard child with no standing in the north aside from her last name.

    I could understand if he tried his luck after we returned from the campaign with enough merits to make Alana a threat to him inheriting his father¡¯s title, but he took such rash action when he thought she was just his father¡¯s pity project.

    I¡¯m not surprised Kalise suggested something like the March. She reminds me of my elf. If she had her way, there¡¯d probably be bloodsports every day. What does surprise me is that the duke agreed. He¡¯s the lord of the north. A noble. He has considerations beyond Victory. Traditions aside, a war would be devastating. Victory may have the better fighters, but the crown has the numbers. Quantity is a quality of its own.

    Yet, he agreed. Knowing the hunters didn¡¯t truly understand the implications. That there is no way the guilds will happily give away their assets. If we lose, he permanently alienates his daughter and losses powerful fighters for future campaigns. If we win, it means war. He should have slapped his stupid son and told everyone to calm down, but he agreed after only a moment of thought.

    With more important things on my mind, I simply put it down to northern insanity. The duke grew up in, by his own admission, the craziest family in Victory. Of course he¡¯s going to make decisions I can¡¯t understand and don¡¯t agree with.

    But, watching him as he sits behind his desk with laced fingers and clear eyes, having just gotten exactly what he wants, I have to wonder if the duke isn¡¯t as crazy as I think. Maybe he is more like the nobles of the capital than I could ever imagine.

    ¡°This is the first time a party outside the north has participated in a March. As the victor and the executor, I want to give you the power to direct the manner in which the debt is collected. I have only one condition. The debt must be collected.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m beginning to feel insulted,¡± Alana growls. He keeps questioning her commitment and she doubles down to prove him wrong. It¡¯s so childish, like literal children baiting each other into increasingly stupid acts just because they don¡¯t want the other brats calling them cowards or chickens.

    It¡¯s embarrassing how effective it is. Again, he hasn¡¯t talked her into doing anything she wouldn¡¯t have done anyway. I don¡¯t know if the duke even considers this manipulative. I¡¯ve seen Pete and Pot, my father¡¯s useless knights, rile each other up in a similar way, all in good fun. This may just be parenting to the duke.

    Either way, I¡¯ve had enough.

    I put a hand on Alana¡¯s shoulder. When she turns to me, she visibly calms, communicating with her eyes that she thinks she¡¯s fine. My smile is stiff as I gently pull her backward, telling her to back down. Her brows furrow and she resists my hold. I insist but don¡¯t add any more strength. We stare at each other for several long seconds before she huffs and takes two steps back. My smile turns sweet before I erase it and face her father.

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    ¡°I¡¯m the victor of the March. The debt is mine to collect so shouldn¡¯t your questions be addressed to me?¡±

    ¡°¡­you are my daughter¡¯s bannerwoman and she is overseeing the situation.¡±

    ¡°Overseeing, not handling. Besides, you and I know I¡¯m much more than a bannerwoman.¡± My lips twitch as I hold back a smirk at Alana¡¯s soft, embarrassed groan but I refrain from looking at her. ¡°This is perfect because I wanted to talk about the March too. There¡¯re some things I need clarified.¡±

    The duke leans back in his chair with a huff. ¡°Ask.¡±

    ¡°What does everything mean? And don¡¯t tell me everything. Specifically, what do the guilds owe us?¡±

    ¡°Everything means everything.¡±

    This annoying¡­¡°Be serious. Do I get their trash too? The clothes off their backs?¡±

    ¡°If you wish to claim it.¡±

    I grin. ¡°So, I get to decide how much is enough.¡±

    ¡°¡­there is a minimum standard that must be upheld. The March is not something that is invoked in vain.¡± You should tell that to your wife. ¡°Mercy is not a virtue in the north. Too much offends the ancestors and tempts fate.¡±

    Does good sense offend them? I shouldn¡¯t ask, it probably does. ¡°I have no intention of being merciful, but I also don¡¯t want to waste my time with things I don¡¯t need or value.¡± It makes things a lot easier if I¡¯m the one who determines the ¡®everything¡¯ they have to surrender. That means there is room for negotiation. And since Alana is overseeing the execution of the March¡¯s consequences, the duke is not seated at the table.

    ¡°Is there a time limit?¡± I ask.

    ¡°No, but if you wish for Victory to be your hands, you need to consider the seasons.¡±

    So, don¡¯t drag out negotiations until next winter.

    ¡°One more thing. Everything that they are includes their lives but that doesn¡¯t mean anyone else has to die, correct?¡±

    ¡°¡­no. The victor decides their fate. Do I need to warn you that it is dangerous to let enemies live?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± In fact, I didn¡¯t need him to answer any of these questions. Alana has already explained all of this to me. This is a warning. Now that he has said the words out loud, he can¡¯t complain later. ¡°Then this will all work out nicely.¡±

    ¡°Your early departure presents a problem. You will face Quest alone.¡±

    ¡°Do you think that¡¯s a problem?¡± I prefer it that way. If we showed up with an army, I don¡¯t imagine anyone would be willing to talk to us. Without swords in their faces, perhaps reason can prevail.

    ¡°The last campaigns will end by mid-spring at the latest. Call on us and the full force of Victory will march for you.¡±

    Hopefully, we can avoid that.

    ¡°Lou, I have a request.¡±

    The room turns to the bunny, who has remained quiet until now. She puts a hand on her chest. ¡°Despite his hard stance, I know Father is worried about Khan.¡± She turns big, wet eyes on the duke. His face remains impassive, but I know there¡¯s a father inside that¡¯s softening at her words. ¡°I also think that the controversy around him being sent away can be eased by another voice, speaking from a different perspective.¡±

    Roza is immediately intrigued. ¡°Your support would do a lot of good.¡± She meets eyes with the rest of the room. ¡°The people respect the James family, but they adore their flower. If she asks for their understanding, it may go a long way to easing tensions. At least long enough for Lady Tome to produce results, one way or the other.¡±

    I cover Alana¡¯s annoyed click of the tongue by saying, ¡°You can call me Lou.¡±

    Yulia nods her head. ¡°My idea is to accompany Alana and Lou throughout spring. I can return with news to reassure the north and update you on their progress.¡± Her eyes move to me. ¡°More importantly, I believe I understand Lou¡¯s intentions with the March and want to offer my advice.¡±

    ¡°Only one James is required,¡± Alana says slowly, frustration evident.

    ¡°Yes, only one is required and if your only intention was to wage war, I wouldn¡¯t be of any use. However, I think Lou, both of you, plan to employ means other than violence. And, I mean no offense, neither of you strike me as proficient negotiators.¡±

    ¡°I can handle a negotiation,¡± I huff.

    ¡°Without your elementals? I don¡¯t think your succubi will be welcome at the table. The use of the mental affinity is illegal for all but the royal interrogators but I doubt it has prevented the guilds from training their own casters. It hasn¡¯t stopped my father.¡±

    ¡°Yulia,¡± he grumps.

    ¡°Lou is not a stranger and you admitted as much yourself.¡± Yulia turns to Alana. ¡°I want to help you and I think it will be fun to take Allen on a little vacation.¡±

    Alana¡¯s frown eases at the mention of her nephew. ¡°The hunters will be angry and desperate. We could be targets for assassination. Is that a situation you want to put Allen in?¡±

    Yulia shakes her head. ¡°We¡¯re going there to prevent war. I¡¯m sure the guilds will be interested in that and won¡¯t makes things a lot worse by killing members of the James family. I¡¯m not defenseless and I believe in your house¡¯s ability to protect me.¡±

    She makes a good point. Nothing short of her head being pulverized could kill her if we want to keep her alive. ¡°We can keep them safe, Alana.¡± Which is very obvious. If she wants to reject her sister¡¯s help, she¡¯s going to need more direct.

    ¡°¡­fine.¡± Surprisingly, she doesn¡¯t. She turns her head to avoid her sister¡¯s bright smile. ¡°You¡¯re good at making people drop their guard.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have so much fun!¡±

    ¡°Oi! I¡¯m going too!¡± Kalise shouts.

    ¡°This is getting ridiculous!¡± Eleanor snaps. ¡°It is one thing to send Khan away. There is no way to explain his mother going with him. With Alana and Yulia leaving as well, it¡¯ll look like the James family is fracturing.¡±

    ¡°And what if I say I don¡¯t care anymore?!¡± Kalise yells. Her eyes are wild and her breathing is coming a little too fast. Ah, did she finally snap? This has been a stressful day. ¡°This saints forsaken fort and all the bog drinkers in it can¡ª"

    Her words are cut off by Eleanor¡¯s hand. The other grabs the front of Kalise¡¯s shirt and drags her from the room, ignoring her struggles. It continues all the way down the hall as the stern woman drags her fellow wife away from the room.

    ¡°That is the end of our matters,¡± the duke says, making no comment on the behavior of the women. I can¡¯t detect so much as a hint of concern from him. I wonder if he really is so callous toward them after years of marriage. What a loveless house. No wonder they all cling to these traditions so much, they don¡¯t have anything else. ¡°I wish you victory in your endeavors. The ancestors always watch over us.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-149

    Objectively, Khan is being treated pretty well. As a traitor to family and country, it wouldn¡¯t be surprising if the servants withheld his food and beat him intermittently.

    If Khan was the captive of the unscrupulous nobles of the capital, he would have to face all manners of humiliation. He would be paraded under his shame, cursed by thousands. It¡¯d be incredibly bad seeing as he¡¯s a high noble.

    It¡¯s easy to forget since Victory doesn¡¯t involve itself in court politics and Duke James has the smallest territory of the three ducal families, but Khan¡¯s family is one of the most powerful in Harvest. Nothing gets the masses as excited as tearing down their betters.

    In that light, Khan¡¯s treatment is almost saintly. That doesn¡¯t mean he looks good. He¡¯s clean, so someone must have wiped him down and changed his clothes. Unfortunately, most of the people I¡¯ve seen here do not understand the proper dress for their cold homeland. The duke¡¯s house can¡¯t be compared to the temperature outside but there is a chill in the air. One the thin shirt and simple pants Alana¡¯s brother is wearing can¡¯t protect him from.

    Khan doesn¡¯t have his father¡¯s bulk. He was thin when I first saw him. After a week, possibly more, of not properly eating, his face is looking a little thin. His long hair looks greasy and falls into his face, but I can imagine the deep bags under his eyes. The hard floor and lack of cushions don¡¯t exactly promote a good night¡¯s rest.

    He looks up as I step inside. With his hands chained to the floor, he has to flip his hair out of his face. A mostly futile effort but it¡¯s enough to free up one glaring eye. Mm, those bags are as deep as I imagined.

    ¡°You¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t look happy to see me.¡±

    ¡°Why should I be?¡± He clicks his tongue. ¡°Suppose I should be grateful for the reprieve from your creature. I don¡¯t understand why you keep that thing around. Or do you have a weird fetish, enjoying some thing feeling around in your mind?¡±

    Hm? Let me see. Ah, of course. I ordered Geneva not to hurt him. That didn¡¯t exclude making him uncomfortable. ¡°You understand the estrazi you like to praise so much did the same thing. Worse, actually. My pet is only looking for faults. They¡¯re the ones that broke your mind in the first place.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not broken.¡±

    ¡°The fact that you think that shows just how good a job they did. But forget that. I have good news! You¡¯re a lucky man, Khan. Despite you apparently not caring about them, you have a family that loves you. Every single one of them spoke for you to your father.¡±

    ¡°I care about¡ª"

    ¡°In the end, it was agreed that Alana will take responsibility for you. You will be our guest once we return to the Grand Hall where my pet will attempt to restore your mind. It really is a lucky deal. Your sister happens to be loved by the one person with the potential to help you. Instead of being executed tomorrow, you get to sleep in a soft bed and eat good food. Even if we fail, you won¡¯t be in any pain. If we¡¯re successful, you get a second chance. The saints must love you.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°The north doesn¡¯t thank the saints. Have you ever heard of a saint that fought in the north?¡±

    Huh. Now that he mentions it¡­no, I can¡¯t think of a story where a saint fights a titan. So not even the saints support this war. That should have been Victory¡¯s first clue that they were walking the wrong path. ¡°Then thank your ancestors. No, thank Alana.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡± He isn¡¯t thrilled by the news but he¡¯s happy. Anything would look good in the face of death. ¡°Are you going to release me from my chains?¡±

    ¡°Not yet.¡± Come in.

    Khan¡¯s eyes snap to the door as Geneva enters. He flinches as she smiles.

    ¡°Your family still needs you for tomorrow. Apparently, simply being mentally violated isn¡¯t enough to earn a pardon from the people of Victory. You have to be a raging lunatic. Your father needs you to put on a convincing performance. I¡¯m here to evaluate your acting skills. If you can¡¯t handle the performance on your own, my pet here with give you some lessons.¡±

    His mouth twists in distaste at the thought. ¡°¡­what do I need to do?¡±

    ¡°I think the point of a lunatic is to do something unpredictable. Maybe throw in a little anti-human rhetoric, curse your father a few times, and, I don¡¯t know, wish for a warm spring. Heretical stuff that¡¯ll make people think you¡¯ve lost your mind.¡±

    After several moments of him staring at me in incomprehension, I clap my hands. ¡°That means now. Let the show begin.¡±

    ¡°Just¡­do it?¡± he says nervously.

    ¡°Do you need to do a few vocal exercises? I can wait.¡±

    ¡°No¡­¡± He clears his throat. ¡°Er, curse you¡ª"

    ¡°Stop, stop.¡± I hold up my hands. ¡°Where¡¯s the emotion? You¡¯ve just betrayed your entire family and everything you believe in¡ª"

    ¡°I haven¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°Where¡¯s the heartbreak? Where¡¯s the regret? Where¡¯s the righteousness? Where¡¯s the anger? Come on, brother. Put some heart in it.¡±

    ¡°I thought I was supposed to be a madman.¡±

    ¡°When you think of madmen, do you think quiet and sensible? No! You think loud, wild, and dangerous. Again.¡± I wave for him to give it another try.

    He clears his throat again. ¡°Curse you, Father! Er¡­¡± He pauses before muttering, ¡°It¡¯s hard to think of a villain¡¯s lines.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Think of the opposite of what you really want to say.¡±

    He thinks about it before trying again. ¡°You¡¯re all idiots. The ancestors were idiots. Harvest is run by idiots. You¡¯re only alive because the estrazi don¡¯t care enough to slaughter us. I tried to save you. To bring peace to the north. You¡¯d rather throw your lives away pointlessly. Even animals treasure their lives more. Proud knights of Victory? HAH! More like idiotic worms. All of you don¡¯t have two brain cells to rub together so you can¡¯t see it now but, one day, you¡¯ll understand I¡¯m saving Victory! I¡¯m saving the world!¡±

    He blinks and lets out a deep breath. ¡°That should get them riled up¡­though the last part is true.¡±

    I clap slowly. ¡°Good. Much better. You just need to do that for two minutes straight.¡±

    ¡°Two minutes?¡± he gasps in disbelief.

    ¡°Loud and wild, Khan. Have you ever known a madman to shut up? And what are you doing with your body?¡±

    ¡°Nothing?¡±

    ¡°Exactly! That¡¯s a problem. Emphasis on the wild. These people need to think that you¡¯ve completely lost your mind. Right now, you sound like a traitor. You need to sound like a crazy traitor.¡±

    ¡°Lou,¡± my pet says with deceptive casualness.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Khan asks nervously.

    I sigh. ¡°We¡¯re leaving tomorrow. I¡¯m not spending our last night here away from Alana. That means when the dinner bell rings, I¡¯m gone. You have until then to convince me that you can play your part. If you can¡¯t then I can only ask her to help you.¡±

    He recoils at the suggestion. ¡°You can¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m here to make sure nothing goes wrong. I¡¯ll even knock you out first.¡±

    ¡°No, I can do it alone!¡±

    I sympathize with him I do, but isn¡¯t it too late to be concerned about these things? His mind is no longer his own. How can you be prepared to die but not be prepared to suffer a little to live? ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You can entrust yourself to me.¡±

 ARC 6-Winter War-150 (Arc End)

    The front yard of the James estate is full of activity as we prepare to leave. It¡¯s comparable to the madness of our departure from the Hall.

    For ourselves, there is little to do. Most of our supplies have been depleted. Not all in the way we expected. The booze is mostly gone. The shroom juice proved as popular as I expected. The representatives of the orders attending our army¡¯s rites were eager to buy as much as I was willing to sell. The three large chests of gold brought to Alana¡¯s room made my jaw drop. The frugal knights of the north have impressive coffers, saving their gold for war supplies and nothing else.

    If we were returning with just ourselves, we could fit everything two wagons. One, if we packed creatively. But we¡¯re not traveling alone.

    First thing in the morning, and by first thing I mean the moment the first ray of sunlight brightened the dark night to Victory¡¯s usual gray, the duke spoke before the people of Victory. Despite word being spread of the announcement the night before, the entire Witness Circle was full.

    Not by the knights that have consistently proven themselves to be maniacs. Just the average residents of the north; laborers, craftsmen, and servants. The common people are as dedicated as the mad men and women throwing themselves against a never-ending tide of monsters.

    In the end, Khan¡¯s performance did not meet my standards. He had a good grasp of his character but found it too difficult to muster the necessary emotion to sell the act. I suppose it¡¯s hard for someone without a menacing bone in his body, from what I¡¯ve seen, to properly play a villain. Not even an aversion to Geneva¡¯s attentions could motivate him. His assurances that he could play his part well were silenced as the succubus put him to sleep and gave him a little ¡®help¡¯.

    The morning found him a different man. It was quite amusing watching Khan howl and curse everything in the north from the people and the mountains to his nth ancestor. He only quieted when his father held his throat, choking him into silence. No one watching their performance could think that the duke had conspired with his family to spare his son.

    Geneva put the poor man to sleep once the announcement was made. Now, he is sleeping in a covered wagon. He isn¡¯t a threat but erring on the side of caution, his bound wrists and ankles are chained to the floor. He also wears a tight blindfold he couldn¡¯t remove even if his hands were free. The plan is to leave him that way except for mealtimes, where he will have the privilege of being spoon-fed by a succubus. No chance to cause trouble for the troublesome brother.

    The second party adding to the chaos is Yulia. After the raving Khan was dragged from the Witness Circle, the bad news was blunted by two positive announcements. Alana generously donated her personal resources, our unused supplies, to prepare for the retaliatory march against the estrazi. She also covered our departure by playing up returning to Quest to redeem the March and obtain more resources for the war effort. It¡¯s also a good excuse for the bunny accompanying her younger sister to make sure the silly southerners who took their traditions in vain pay the maximum price.

    If the duke¡¯s concerns about the people of Victory doubting the family were at all real, he¡¯s been made to look a fool. Pretty sure they love the James more than ever.

    Given the culture of the north, I expected Yulia to travel in a single carriage. She proves me wrong in spectacular fashion. Along with her personal carriage, an entourage of three carriages seating twelve lady knights from the Waning Stars and two wagons of luggage are arranged in a circle, waiting for the signal to depart. In hindsight, I should have expected as much. No matter where she¡¯s from, a noblewoman is a noblewoman. A bird doesn¡¯t change its feathers so easily.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    I turn as Alana comes to stand beside me. My hand idly reaches up to pluck at the white fur on the collar of her cloak. ¡°Hey, yourself. Ready?¡±

    She hums.

    ¡°Second thoughts?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She sighs. ¡°Don¡¯t be mad but¡­despite it all, I¡¯m a little sad to go. That¡¯s crazy, isn¡¯t it? I should hate this place.¡±

    I chuckle softly. ¡°Uh-huh. Positively insane.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you deny that.¡±

    ¡°Why? It¡¯s been made amply clear to me crazy is simply in northerner blood. Don¡¯t worry, sweetie. I love you anyway.¡±

    She huffs. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that just make you a pervert?¡±

    I could say that right back. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Still haven¡¯t learned to take an insult.¡±

    ¡°If you stopped complimenting me, maybe I¡¯d get better at it.¡±

    The familiar routine makes us smile at each other but Alana¡¯s lips turn down soon enough. ¡°What are we going to do? We¡¯re fighting a war in a year.¡± She worries her bottom lip between her teeth. ¡°Maybe¡­maybe we shouldn¡¯t have gotten involved.¡±

    ¡°No. We were already involved.¡± My hand brushes her cheek. ¡°A seer took action to target us. Apparently, one of us was going to cause the end of the world.¡± Which sounds completely ridiculous. Neither of us could be so callous. ¡°Who¡¯s to say that this seer isn¡¯t still plotting against us? Besides that, one of my ancestors was involved in this treaty. I didn¡¯t think of it much earlier, but that journal is off.¡±

    Summoners record every interaction with elementals. The estrazi may be natives of this realm but habits are difficult to change. Yet, the journal only records a bare minimum of information. I¡¯d expect details down to how many scales are on their clawed feet. Rather than a summoning record, it reads more like a short report written to a superior. Something that¡¯s supported by the fact that it¡¯s in the James¡¯ library.

    A summoner¡¯s records goes to their family. End of. My ancestor would have never surrendered it without a fight. Speaking for the other summoners in the Tome family, if someone forced us to write a record we didn¡¯t get to keep, there¡¯s no way I¡¯d put any valuable information in it. Which makes me very curious what my ancestor hid. And where it might be hidden.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Besides, it¡¯s not like staying out of the north will keep us from the conflict. If the estrazi march an army on Victory, the rest of the kingdom is going to get dragged in. Might as get ahead of it.¡±

    ¡°¡­that makes me feel less selfish.¡± Her blue eyes narrow. ¡°Tell me if you change your mind.¡±

    Aw. I step closer to her and lower my voice. ¡°You¡¯re cute when you¡¯re thoughtful.¡±

    I expect her to be embarrassed. She flushes but unexpectedly doesn¡¯t avert her gaze, holding my stare. My mirth is replaced by a quiet warmth. ¡°You don¡¯t have to blame yourself so much. I was at fault too.¡± I can¡¯t blame them for not knowing me in and out. Saints, in many ways, I still don¡¯t know myself. Thankfully, we have many long years to figure it out. ¡°We¡¯re going to be okay, sweetie.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I¡¯m going to make sure my sister is ready. Remember our promise.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Your sister is not going to try to seduce me.¡± Here I thought their relationship was improving.

    ¡°Mark my words. She¡¯s not coming with us for negotiations. The only thing I can think of is getting closer to you and Kii. And the best way to get close to you is through your crotch.¡±

    ¡°A bit crude, my lady.¡±

    ¡°The north doesn¡¯t have ladies. Only violent women with stuffy titles.¡± She snickers. ¡°My mother got some of the grannies to teach me the etiquette of the south. Aunt Anastasia told me that when I asked her if I¡¯d be continuing my lessons after my father acknowledged me. I don¡¯t know what Yulia has planned. Just remember your promise.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine. If she makes any untoward moves, we ditch her. You¡¯re really worrying over nothing. Leaving aside that she couldn¡¯t tempt if she wanted to¡ª"

    ¡°Really?¡±

    I avert my eyes at her raised brows. ¡°Without your approval, she couldn¡¯t tempt me if she wanted to. Trying isn¡¯t going to get her anything but an angry elf. Kii¡¯s way of rejecting advances is a lot more brutal than a few harsh words.¡±

    A dark smile curls my future saint¡¯s lips. ¡°I think I¡¯d like to see that.¡±

    ¡°You two haven¡¯t left yet?¡±

    We both turn as Kalise stomps toward us. I don¡¯t think her frown has left her face since she heard the news about her son but she¡¯s much calmer than when she was pleading for her son¡¯s life. She stops in front of us, eyes focused on the servants swarming our caravan, hitching the beasts of burden and making sure everything is secure. ¡°My son¡­how is he?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± I hastily reassure her. ¡°That stuff earlier was all an act. Nothing permanent was done.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take care of him,¡± Alana says solemnly.

    ¡°I know you will. Too loyal for your own good.¡±

    ¡°I could say the same to you. I thought you were really going to attack Father.¡±

    The barbarian grunts. ¡°Your eyes are working. That man knows how to push my buttons and not in a good way. If it weren¡¯t for¡­¡± She cleared her throat but there¡¯s no need to finish the sentence. I vividly remember Eleanor dragging her from the room. ¡°This may be too motherly but trust me, kitten, you¡¯ve got a good thing with the cat here.¡± She waves toward me. ¡°Don¡¯t let each other go. Everyone has problems but real love is too rare to give up on.¡±

    ¡°I have no intentions of letting her get away,¡± I declare.

    Alana hesitates before asking, ¡°Why did you marry my father if you don¡¯t love him?¡±

    A question that could be considered insensitive by most. Kalise takes it well, the words failing to prompt a reaction. ¡°When I came to Victory, I wasn¡¯t looking for love,¡± she says in a tone that feels too casual for the topic. ¡°I wanted good time and¡­cheh, I¡¯m old enough to admit I needed security.¡±

    ¡°This place makes you feel secure?¡± I ask incredulously.

    She laughs. ¡°It does. Erenheart isn¡¯t a stingy man either. He met my needs, so I stayed. Seems my needs are changing. Getting old isn¡¯t fun.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not old,¡± I say.

    ¡°Do you think hearing that from a kitten makes me happy? I¡¯ve had three children. Something about a family changes you. Breaking enemies just isn¡¯t that important when your youngest is about to be executed by his own father.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°Victory isn¡¯t so comfortable these days.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re staying,¡± Alana points out, her tone holding a question.

    ¡°Not for my husband. I¡¯ve got one more war in me. Those scaly bog-drinking bastards are going to pay for laying their hands on my boy.¡± She claps us on the shoulders. ¡°All the ancestors are going to be watching us next year. It¡¯ll be one for the history books. You cats better be ready.¡±

    ¡°We will be.¡±

    The barbarian slaps us again before heading off without a goodbye. I watch her stomp past the gate, a woman with a mission. ¡°Hey, Alana?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°Your father¡¯s kind of an ass.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°I hate the north.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°If you ever decide you do want to be a duchess, we¡¯re stealing Yulia¡¯s idea and completely changing this place. And building a proper town around the fort instead of whatever nonsense the orders are doing. And replacing this ridiculously sad estate with a proper castle, like I promised.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯d even consider it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re about to fight for it, aren¡¯t we? I also think we¡¯re the only ones with a chance to change this place.¡± That¡¯s why I¡¯m here, isn¡¯t it? To bring amusement and change. If any place needs that, it¡¯s the north.

    ¡°We have to win first.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot more to do before that.¡± Forget the war and world-ending threat to be discovered next winter. First, we have to deal with the March. Then comes the consequences of it. Assuming it can end with no lives lost and a peaceful relationship with the hunters, the crown will not be happy. Compounding that is the royal decree banning succubi. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s been announced by now, making me a criminal. Rather than returning with startling achievements, I¡¯m about to piss of the crown in a big way.

    Kierra¡¯s finally going to get her wish. If a few elites don¡¯t come to the Hall to detain or outright assassinate me, I¡¯ll forsake the saints. Then there¡¯s all the little plots I left waiting at home, both good and bad. I also planned to begin my career as a summoner with access to the numerous records of the Summoning Hall while searching for clues about my divine parentage.

    It all feels¡­big. Too big to be a game. I¡¯ve come a long way from the low noble with no future I used to be. I¡¯ve built my own house, a family, and if I don¡¯t want it to collapse, or be crushed by other powers, it might be time to take things seriously.

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell jumps down from our carriage and races toward us. I reach down to scoop her up. [Master Lou, all is ready.]

    ¡°Suppose it¡¯s time.¡± Alana holds out a hand to me. I grab it and pull her forward. To our future and another crisis.

    -

    As a small caravan, headed by a purple carriage with the Tome crest on the side, pulled away from the fort, a translucent creature hovered above the towering walls. The golden orb that most would assume to be an eye turned toward the looming peaks that permanently shadowed the people of the land.

    Like a vulture scenting decay, it could sense multiple sources of potent negative energy. Bloodlust. The beings that lived on the mountain peaks obscured in clouds hungered for violence. A meal that had matured for many years. The being could feed for a thousand cycles on them but it was bound to a contract of mana and couldn¡¯t approach the mountains.

    Further north, a more tempting meal waited. If the creatures atop the mountains were a sumptuous meal, what waited beyond could only be compared to feasts of legend, where kings filled streets with tables of food to give the people of their kingdom a taste of royal extravagance. It was enough energy that the Great One could open a permanent door to this realm with only a fraction. If the whole of it was consumed¡­

    Unfortunately, it was bound to a temporary master. Orders limited its potential. Despite having access to such a treasure, it could only consume a taste, forbidden to complete a full cycle and multiply. However, just the knowledge of the immense energy the realm contained would be valuable to the Great One. Knowing it would be useful to its creator filled the being with joy, the only joy it could experience, as it quickly crossed the snowy wasteland.

    ¡°Shuba.¡±

 Miniarc-Inevitable End-01

    At the northern tip of the human continent, beyond where any human had ever reached, the endless white landscape transformed into a rocky shore and clear blue waters. Steam slowly rose from the water¡¯s surface, creating a hazy curtain that stretched from the water to the sky full of fluffy clouds, gentler than the stormy gray clouds that covered most of the north.

    There was no trace of snow for leagues but leading up to the beach were eight enormous sculptures of ice. Few would recognize the large reptilian creatures for what they were but the exquisite detail, down to each individual scale and hair, conveyed their majesty. Despite the warm air from the steaming waters, the ice showed no signs of melting. If any dared to mar them, they would find the ice to be sturdier than mountains and impossible to shatter.

    Sitting near the edge of the rocky shore, atop a large boulder with a flattened top, was an estrazi with light purple scales. Time had dulled their hue and too many years in the tunnels the estrazi carved to connect the underground caverns they called home had hunched his back. His thick whiskers had turned the silver of elders and the two horns that curled around his head were cracked at the base. To those familiar with the guardians of the north, it was clear that the estrazi was very old and nearing the end of his life.

    Surrounding the elder were eight estrazi. The opposite of the lizard that looked two steps from death¡¯s door, they were tall and strong. Their scales gleamed despite the weak light, each a different shade representing their affinities. Red for fire, silver for air, blue for water, brown for earth, sea-green for the mental affinity, gold for the light affinity, black for the physical affinity, and speckled for null. Each of them were prime representatives of their race, with thick tails, dark whiskers that hung to their waists, and pristine white horns that curved around their heads.

    The estrazi were guardians. What divided the brood into different castes were the things they guarded. The elder was the most valuable member of the brood. In some ways, more than the Great Mother, as the leader of the brood could never ignore the old lizard¡¯s words. To guard him was one of the highest honors an estrazi could have and it reflected in their behavior. Their duties consisted of standing quietly but remaining attentive for hours but their focus never wavered. They remained tense so that the elder could enjoy his last days in peace.

    The red guard was the first to notice the figure that approached rapidly. His eyes narrowed as he huffed, motioning to the blue guard. The two of them trotted toward the figure while the others closed ranks around the elder, anticipating trouble.

    The one who approached was different from them. Their face was flatter and more human, with deep ridges over their round eyes that resembled brows. Their horns were small, barely two nubs. In place of whiskers was a long mane of short hair, running from the crown of the estrazi¡¯s skull to the tip of a thin tail.

    The two guards moved in front of the intruder, the red one letting out a series of clicks and hisses that any other intelligent race would struggle to recognize as a language. ¡°Little Water, you know none are allowed to disturb Great Eye. Return to your chambers.¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Little Water¡¯s thin lips twisted in a snarl, showing blunt teeth. ¡°Who are you to command me, nameless? Make way.¡±

    ¡°I have no name but I carry the will of the Great Mother. Leave, or we will remove you.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t dare. To harm a female means death.¡±

    ¡°Even if we die, we must fulfill our duty.¡±

    Little Water¡¯s tail whipped in agitation as she evaluated her chances against them. One shared her element, the other wielded her opposite. Lacking a name, they had no status within the brood, but they would be well-trained for their roles as guards. The females of the estrazi were always more talented than the males but she wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they were both her equal. Against them both, she had little to no chance and even if she defeated them, she undoubtedly stood no chance against the other six.

    Still, she was unwilling to back down. Soon, if her guess was correct, she would no longer have the freedom to order away her guards. If she didn¡¯t take the opportunity to speak to the elder now, she would never have the chance in the future.

    Just before she could call their bluff, a raspy voice called out, ¡°Let her approach.¡±

    ¡°Great Eye¡ª"

    The elder waved off the guard beside him that tried to offer protest. ¡°She is a future mother of the brood. She will bring me no harm. Step aside.¡±

    They didn¡¯t dare to disobey his order twice. The guards relaxed their formation around the elder and the two blocking Little Water¡¯s way broke apart. She moved past them quickly but didn¡¯t drop her guard. The elder¡¯s words were true. She didn¡¯t come to bring harm, especially against him. Such an event would run counter to her objectives. Despite that, she couldn¡¯t say their meeting would be cordial or peaceful.

    She stepped up behind the elder. To stand beside him would be presumptuous, a declaration that she thought she was his equal. With her basic affinity, she wasn¡¯t even the equal of her sisters, let alone the Great Mother¡¯s sole adviser. To stand in front of him would go beyond presumptuous into the realm of offense. Nothing and no one were allowed to obscure the sight of the Great Eye, even metaphorically.

    ¡°Father.¡±

    ¡°Did you think to invoke my sympathy with sweet calls? Speak, daughter.¡±

    ¡°You must know why I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°I know the events that have led you here. Nothing else.¡±

    Little Water¡¯s tail curled around her waist and she grabbed the tip with her hands, running her claws through the hair along it. ¡°How much have you seen?¡±

    ¡°Do you mean to ask about the servants you sent away? Cruel of you, demanding of them a task they had no chance to complete. Their lives may belong to you but as a mother of the brood, you are meant to care for them.¡±

    ¡°¡­I understand my wrong but I had no choice.¡± She had to breathe deeply and let it out slowly to keep the anger out of her tone. ¡°I couldn¡¯t convince Mother to lend me a true force.¡±

    ¡°That is because your request went against the will of our people. We are guardians. Not killers.¡±

    ¡°I did not want them to kill!¡±

    ¡°Did you think the human lord would surrender his son willingly? They are aggressive creatures. If something disturbs their nest, they will swarm it until it dies, uncaring for the strength of the enemy or the consequences of war.¡±

    She hissed, low and angry. ¡°Do not disparage the humans. You know well, better than any, that they are not what Mother makes them out to be. He is different from the others. And there would be no need to retrieve him if you never sent him away!¡±

 Miniarc-Inevitable End-02

    The elder sighed. ¡°You know as well as I that no one forced the boy. When the situation was explained to him, he volunteered, knowing what his sacrifice entailed.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t give him any choice!¡± she snapped, tail slipping from her grip and throwing up small pebbles as it swept the shore. ¡°He is an honorable man. How could he think clearly when you told him that refusal could threaten me, the estrazi, the humans, and the world? Was there any choice at all?¡±

    ¡°I told him only truths.¡±

    ¡°Broken truths. You snap and bend it before presenting the pieces you want us to see. Father, you are the wisest of us. The ancestor has gifted you the Sight. You always say that the future is not one path but dozens. Yet, you only offered him one path. Between sacrificing himself and the end of everything, there was only one choice he could make.¡±

    The elder sighed. ¡°Foolish daughter. You listen only to the words you want to hear. You have forgotten two lessons. All things change and all laws have exceptions. Normally, the future is hard to predict but there are some things that are preordained. They cannot be avoided and so they are as clear as you or me. What I saw can not be avoided. We are blessed that it could be delayed, giving us time to prepare.¡±

    ¡°What is it?! You knew what he meant to me but don¡¯t dare to offer me an explanation.¡±

    ¡°You are not owed one.¡±

    It was getting harder to control her temper. ¡°He was going to talk to his family. The human lord of the fort. He was going to explain it to them. The brood is running out of titans and the Disgraced haven¡¯t returned our messages in two hatching cycles. Despite generations of being turned back, the humans show no signs of stopping their senseless war. He wanted to stop the fighting before the brood was forced to march but we needed to do it together. Now, he will die.¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t die.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know that! He told me himself that his father would remove his head if he knew he was our ally.¡±

    ¡°One human lord cannot do anything to the calamity and your human is in its hands now.¡±

    ¡°Is that meant to comfort me?¡±

    Despite her accusations, the elder remained unmoved. As the silence dragged on, Little Water¡¯s temper cooled. Hanging her head, she pleaded, ¡°I just want to understand.¡±

    ¡°That is not your goal but very well. I will give you an explanation.¡± The elder laboriously stood from his rocky seat. The brown-scaled guard moved to his side. With a wave of his hand, several of the rocks swirled together, becoming smooth stone. They formed a walking stick with a round head that perfectly fit the elder¡¯s gnarled hand. ¡°Come. If we are going to speak for so long, I must soak my body.¡±

    Little Water was quick to follow him into the steaming waters of the sea, the two of them stepping forward until the water reached their shoulders. She paid rapt attention to him as he turned onto his back, floating easily. Seeing the elder enjoying the water, she tried to practice patience but after several minutes of silence, she carefully reminded him. ¡°Father.¡±

    ¡°Mm. When I first met the boy, I saw the things you dream of. If your paths intertwined, it could lead to a future where the estrazi and the humans walked together. You may not believe me daughter, but I have been supporting you. Did you not think it interesting that the Great Mother allowed an enemy to walk amongst her children? It was because of my many nights persuading her that he survived his first encounter with the guardians of our borders.¡±

    ¡°Then why¡ª"

    ¡°Simple. A second calamity appeared. The many paths merged into one inevitable future.¡±

    The steaming waters were beginning to become uncomfortable for Little Water but she endured. ¡°You keep speaking of this calamity. What does it mean? If it is what threatens the world, why don¡¯t we destroy it rather than use these strange methods?¡±

    The elder chuckled, a soft clicking. ¡°You ask why we can¡¯t accomplish something impossible both for our great ancestor and the majesties themselves. The calamities cannot be killed. Or, if they can, it is beyond our simple means. What are they? Who knows.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know?!¡± Little Water was confused. Her father was the oldest of them and had the Sight. There should be nothing in the world beyond his understanding.

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    ¡°I can guess what you are imagining. There should be nothing in the world beyond my sight. The answer is simple. The calamities are forces that have been touched by a will beyond our world.¡±

    ¡°Do you mean the planewalkers?¡± There were many reasons why the estrazi, despite the sanctity of their mission, performed their duties in secrecy, isolated from the rest of the world. Chief among them was the poor judgment of the mortal races. They could not be entrusted with their own well-beings, let alone the fate of the world.

    One of the best examples that her mother shared with her daughters was the planewalkers. A cabal formed by the outcasts of many races who sought to gain power by connecting their world to others, inviting all manner of creatures into their realm. Most of them were disasters. Some never left a mark on the world, controlled by the ones who summoned them. None were truly benevolent.

    Before, when the estrazi guarded the majesties, part of their duties was to make sure nothing defiled the land of the world¡¯s most beloved children. For a time, that meant hunting summoners and the disasters they invited without care. They went as far as to travel to other continents to put down the worst of them. ¡°I thought they were wiped out?¡±

    ¡°Knowledge is not so easily destroyed. Beyond that, the will behind the calamities would not allow summoners to disappear. That thing is not a planeswalker. It is not something we can oppose. Thankfully, rules prevent it from acting on our world directly. It can only influence us through its agents. It is simply adept at choosing those agents, the calamities.

    ¡°The first agents it chose didn¡¯t last long. We quickly identified and eliminated them before they could do much damage. Unfortunately, we underestimated that will. We thought it was chaos. It is, but it is chaos directed by intellect. The first agents were mere distractions while it recruited its true agent, The Defiler.¡±

    Little Water tensed despite the warm waters making her languid. No estrazi could remain calm when the reason for their existence was mentioned.

    ¡°We were careful. The summoners were suppressed, the knowledge of the chaotic will destroyed. The majesties imprisoned the Defiler and we were left to guard her prison. The chaotic will disappeared from our world for centuries. Now, it seems it has found another true agent.¡±

    ¡°You mean to tell me that whatever this new calamity is, it is dangerous enough to rival the Defiler?¡± she hissed as her vision became blurry. The excessive heat was starting to affect her, lulling her to sleep. ¡°And you sent a weak human man against it?¡±

    ¡°He is not meant to fight. Sending him has diverted the second calamity¡¯s fate. Originally, the second calamity would have come here and met the Defiler. Their meeting spells the end of this world. Because of the boy¡¯s sacrifice, the second calamity has been turned back to the land of the humans. It has given us time.¡±

    ¡°Time?¡± she muttered.

    ¡°Time to prepare. Before the second calamity returns, we must inform the majesties. The brood has already sent messengers to the majestic lands. All we can do now is hope they make it in time. If the majesties are not present when the calamities meet¡­¡±

    The elder trailed off as he heard the soft wheeze of Little Water. The female estrazi was floating on her back, sleeping peacefully, her body completely limp. He looked at her with some fondness, the most he could manage for one out of dozens of children he had no time to interact when his attention was entirely occupied by the whispers of the world. He ¡°saw¡± too much to keep his eyes on the brood. It was only after they discovered the human boy and his daughter¡¯s path became so prominent that they shared a conversation.

    ¡°Great Eye.¡± The blue guard entered the water and gently grabbed his daughter. ¡°I will return her to her chambers.¡±

    ¡°When you do, tell the others to take her orders as my orders. No matter what she wants to do, no matter where she goes, they are not to question her, only protect her.¡±

    The guard hesitated. ¡°She will not give up on the human,¡± he said slowly.

    ¡°No, she won¡¯t. My brave daughter has a long road ahead but if we mean to accomplish our duty, we must all play our part. Go.¡±

    The guard didn¡¯t offer another opinion as he swam backward with Little Water in his arms. The elder closed his eyes and listened. The world spoke to him, painting pictures of the future. Another endless war, a sprawling city surrounding a violet castle speckled with stars, a barren wasteland, and many more paths, all branching off from the inevitable meeting of the calamities. His mana rapidly diminished as he focused, trying to find the key events that led to each conclusion, searching for the best path.

    A task not meant for mortal minds. The celestial affinity was a great blessing but it could easily become a curse. If he opened himself to the magic, he could perceive everything but his mind couldn¡¯t handle it. It would leave him insensate and stupid. If he was lucky, it would take months, if not years, to recover. An unacceptable outcome as the brood needed his guidance if they were to survive the turbulent future.

    The only way to use his gift safely was to look at the world through a narrow scope. It kept him sane but it limited his vision, meaning he was not the all-knowing seer the Great Mother would like the brood to believe him to be. There were many things he couldn¡¯t see and sometimes, by the time he recognized a danger, it was too late to avoid it. The matters of the boy were easy to discern, being closely related to the second calamity, but if he intended to direct things further, he would have to take greater risks.

    As if to confirm his thoughts, the water around him began to bubble, rapidly heating. A powerful vibration shook the sea as the Defiler roared. The sound couldn¡¯t escape the water but the nature of the elder¡¯s magic allowed him to perceive her words anyway.

    ¡°WHAT IN THE SOUL-SUCKING ABYSS IS THIS LITTLE TRANSPARENT BASTARD?¡±

 Miniarc-Inevitable End-03

    ¡°Oi. Oi! Get away from me, stupid thing! What the¡ªshuba? Shuba¡­shuba¡­where have I heard¡­SON OF A ONE-WINGED WYVERN! WHICH DUMB, STAR-FORSAKEN IDIOT IS TALKING WITH THE DARK LORD?! OI! WHAT IS MY ESTEEMED WARDEN DOING?¡±

    The elder sighed deeply. Calling on his magic, he spoke. The words themselves were redundant, the meaning expressed by his spirit. It was the first language, the one spoken by the primal forces of existence. ¡°Please relax, Ezo.¡±

    ¡°WHAT DID YOU CALL ME, YOU PURPLE WORM?! A FEW CENTURIES HAVE MADE YOU DELUSIONAL!¡±

    He sighed as the water began to bubble intensely, steam rising from the sea in a thick curtain. The elder couldn¡¯t endure the heat and returned to the shore. The brown-scaled guard quickly appeared beside him with the boulder he used for a seat, putting it right on the shore. He helped the elder to sit while the red guard cast a spell to protect him from the heat. Prepared, the elder dipped his tail back into the water.

    ¡°My apologies, Majesty Ezossoa. I meant no disrespect.¡±

    ¡°OF COURSE YOU DID, WORM. YOU THINK YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WHILE I AM TRAPPED BY THE POWER OF MY SIBLINGS. A FEW CENTURIES MOCKING ME AND YOU THINK YOU¡¯RE ONE OF THEM, DONT YOU, UPSTART?¡±

    ¡°I could never.¡±

    ¡°I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO ESCAPE THIS PRISON BUT I CAN STILL DEAL WITH A FEW INSECTS!¡±

    ¡°Of course, majesty.¡±

    ¡°ARE YOU MOCKING ME? HORNLESS BASTARD. Ah, forget it! I can¡¯t be bothered to argue with an insect. Come on, brainless puppet of my brother. Isn¡¯t it your job to purge this world of anything beyond the Horned Court¡¯s influence? Come get this little shit floating around me.¡±

    The elder was unfazed by the sharp words and bitter tone. In the beginning, being insulted day and night by someone he had greatly admired, regardless of her crimes, hurt. After centuries of being the Defiler¡¯s personal pair of ears vaguely disguised as the warden of her prison, he had become numb to her barbed tongue. Despite her posturing, there was nothing she could do to him. He simply had to harden his heart to her anger.

    ¡°You know I cannot tread too close to your prison.¡±

    ¡°Lazy reptile. Have you been sitting on your tail for so long you¡¯ve forgotten how to take action?¡±

    ¡°If it is a servant of the Dark Lord, it is harmless. There is no need to take action.¡±

    ¡°That! That disgusting attitude you¡¯ve inherited from your masters. I despise it. Useless bastards like you are free to eat good food, sleep on soft beds, and shit where you please while I¡¯m trapped at the bottom of the sea. It goes beyond being unfair. It is obscene. All of you disgust me. And go away you little bastard! ARGH! I¡¯m going to kill whatever idiot is messing around with that twisted goat!¡±

    The elder sighed. The Defiler¡¯s anger wasn¡¯t undeserved. The Dark Lord was one of the worst of the invaders the estrazi had repelled. Before the Night of Falling Stars, he likely would be hunting down the offending summoner.

    The noncorporeal shubas were hard to kill and such a gesture would be pointless. They weren¡¯t even the Dark Lord¡¯s hands. They were akin to strands of hair, easily replaced and never missed. It was much more effective to trace their celestial connections to their summoners and end the threat at the source.

    Now, such a small thing was beneath his notice. The Dark Lord was a terrible creature whose mere presence invited madness and mayhem but, unless someone invited one of its greater servants into the world, it was a being of little consequence. The Defiler and the second calamity had to be his priorities. ¡°You should calm down, majesty. Your temper isn¡¯t good for your health.¡±

    ¡°My health? I wish I could care about my health but because of you spineless fish, I couldn¡¯t die if I wanted to. The stars know I would return to the Abyss rather than suffer this endless humiliation.¡±

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    ¡°I meant your mental health.¡±

    ¡°HAH! Did you care about that when you locked me in this darkness with nothing but my own thoughts?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve maintained your sanity remarkably.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because I refuse to give you bastards the satisfaction of losing my mind. Spite can be more powerful than mana.¡±

    The elder smiled as the bubbling sea calmed down. In the beginning, the Defiler would rage for weeks on end. She would never admit it but time had mellowed her. While no amount of time could ever erase her hatred, he dearly hoped that when the time came, she would be willing to listen.

    ¡°I¡¯m not joking, stupid warden. You don¡¯t want the Dark Lord sticking its fingers into this realm. Forget the argument I had with my siblings. That thing will plunge the whole world into darkness. Find the stupid summoner and tell them to stop before they do something they can¡¯t take back.¡±

    ¡°¡­maybe I can do something. If you are willing to honor the debt.¡±

    ¡°Debt? Why should I take on a debt for you to do your job? Fine. Let the perverted goat walk sideways over our oceans. I¡¯ll be perfectly fine.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Then you are willing to let the creature feed on you? I¡¯m sure centuries of punishment will have bred endless resentment.¡±

    ¡°¡­resentment doesn¡¯t begin to describe it. And while the thought of that creature running its tongue along my spirit is revolting enough to make me wish I could stab my tail through my eye, the thought of being indebted to an actual insect elevated by my siblings whose brain is so small that you not only do their bidding without question but worship those fools is even worse. I want to immolate at the mere suggestion.¡±

    ¡°Do you despise me so? Even after I have been your sole confidant for so many years?¡±

    ¡°Is that something you think you should be rewarded for? To me, it¡¯s in the top three reasons I want to destroy you to the last heir. I¡¯d mount your head on my horn as I devoured your children if I thought I could manage it without vomiting.¡± The Defiler chuckled. ¡°And who says you have been my only confidant?¡±

    ¡°The outsider still whispers to you?¡±

    ¡°The fact that you mention him with disdain while praising my siblings shows how worthless you really are. Yes, he speaks to me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± As powerful as the outsider that gave rise to the calamities was, it was not stronger than the will of the world. It couldn¡¯t casually intrude on their realm, not even its voice. If it even cared to contact its first true agent now that she was useless to its goals. From the way the majesties described it, the outsider was not a creature of compassion or sentiment.

    ¡°You can¡¯t begin to understand the depth of his power. Don¡¯t believe me? Should I convince you?¡±

    ¡°Please.¡±

    ¡°Like I would! I won¡¯t give you the slightest insight into his designs. Squirm at night as your fears keep you awake. Gift of sight aside, you have to wait and see like the rest. And he loves a show.¡±

    The elder grimaced at the wild laughter that followed the ominous prediction. He cut the flow of his magic and pulled back his tail. The world went silent.

    A motion of his hand brought his black-scaled guard to his side. As a hand touched his shoulder, strength poured into his tired body, allowing him to stand with his walking stick to support him. If it were two centuries ago, the magic could infuse him with enough vitality to leave him as energetic as a hatchling. However, there was a limit to everything.

    The older he got, the more magic it took to keep him healthy, until it was all the brood could do to prolong his life and keep him comfortable.

    The Defiler¡¯s words were troubling. It was possible, even likely, that she had preyed on his fears for petty revenge but with the emergence of the second calamity, he couldn¡¯t afford to ignore them. The uninformed thought that those blessed with the sight simply sat still while the world revealed its secrets. That wasn¡¯t untrue, as the elder¡¯s affinity troubled him without any efforts on his part, but true insight required work.

    He could see the entire life of an ancient king after touching his crumbling crown but the crown had to be unearthed first. If he wanted to see the coming troubles, he needed information. Clues. Given he was far beyond finding them himself, it was time to dispatch his own agents.

    If the Defiler wasn¡¯t lying and was in contact with the outsider, it would have to be through an intermediary. Someone in this realm that acted as a conduit for the outsider¡¯s will. Perhaps a third calamity. If so, they needed to be found.

    The world was a large place to search. His agents could scour every continent for years and find no trace but the elder had a hunch. The intermediary had reached out to the Defiler. There was a good chance they would reach out to the second calamity. Maybe even gravitate to them.

    His daughter¡¯s journey would lead her to the second calamity as she searched for the man whose fate was tied to her own. It would be a simple matter to put his agents in the force she would ¡®convince¡¯ to follow her. Just in case. If the majesties blessed them, perhaps they could also find the summoner inviting more catastrophe into the world.

    He placed a hand on the shoulder of his guard and guided him away from the shore, the others naturally arranging themselves in a protective formation. With his tail, he motioned to the silver guard. ¡°Carry a message to the Great Mother. We need to speak.¡±

    The estrazi were a race that understood hierarchy. No matter his importance, the elder never deluded himself as to his authority. For the agents he had in mind, he would need her approval.

 Miniarc-Inevitable End-04

    Little Water remained quiet and pensive as the blue-scaled guard escorted her back to the brood¡¯s warrens. It was not a long journey. Beyond the rocky shore, another member of the brood waited. Its smooth dark-blue skin marked it as one of the lesser members of the brood. Lesser even than the dull scales that usually accompanied her.

    When she was in an uncharitable mood, she liked to call her poor siblings, ¡®softies¡¯. It was a derogatory term that targeted their lack of scales or horns, the characteristics of their great ancestors. It could also apply to their ¡®soft brains¡¯, as their low intellect meant they could at most grasp a few basic commands. Combined with their large size, they made a good work force for physically demanding tasks.

    With her lesser sibling pulling a sled made of stone and ice, it still took them several hours to return to the base of the mountain where the estrazi made their home. Compared to the massive size of the Bleak Peaks, it could be mistaken as a hill. Unsurprising, as the mountain was artificial. Raising it to the natural splendor of the north¡¯s mountain range would be a tall order even for the majesties, let alone the brood. What they had accomplished already took generations and countless resources. However, its creation was essential to the future of the brood and their mission.

    At the base of the mountain stood the fake dwellings meant to deceive any who would find their way to the estrazi¡¯s territory. A small city of ice and stone, a fa?ade constructed from what the oldest members of the brood recalled of the other races¡¯ homes. It was labyrinthine in its complexity, serving as a distraction and a good place to stage a defense.

    Normally, the sky was the dominion of the majesties, but they had no interest in the freezing land. Worse, their presence aggravated the Defiler. While the exiled majesty was imprisoned, her wrath was still to be feared. After all, it had almost burned the whole world to ash.

    In the absence of the true rulers, upstarts had taken their place. The Disgraced or, as the humans knew them, the Lords of the Peaks. It was grating to let them brazenly claim what should only belong to their great ancestors but they kept worse things out of the brood¡¯s territory. Most things. The sky was wide and the things that traveled it many. It was impossible to patrol every corner of it at all times of the day. Something inevitably slipped through.

    There was also the null affinity. Those who bent space to their will could not be kept out. A null user could appear in one moment and be gone the next. The only true defense was deception.

    Hence, the false city of ice. All the exits from the warren were connected to the houses and the servants lived above ground. A casual scout would easily be deceived. A better one might have suspicions if they lingered but it would take a quite a while to find so much as a single tunnel. By then, the brood would have flooded the city and chased any invader off.

    They moved through the fake city until they found a warehouse, one of the few buildings with doors large enough to accommodate the large softie. Little Water dismounted and patted her sibling¡¯s head, smiling at the thoughtless affection it showed by nuzzling her palm.

    They were closely related, the poor creatures being the children of one of untalented sisters, but she could only think of them as slightly intelligent pets. An outlook better than many of her sisters. They treated the servants, those with no potential to be mates, as expendable tools when they even bothered to acknowledge their existence.

    ¡°Then I will take my leave here,¡± the blue-scaled guard said after opening the doors for her.

    ¡°Before you return to the Great Eye, I need you to adjust a few sleds for me.¡± The best outcome of her meeting with her father would have been receiving his help to retrieve Khan. At the very least, she was hoping that he would reconsider making peace with the humans. If her mother relaxed her stance against the humans, Little Water could look for him on her own without worry.

    ¡°I cannot delay my duties.¡±

    ¡°You would ignore my orders?¡±

    ¡°My duty was given by the Great Mother.¡± The blue-scaled guard¡¯s tail pointed up as he lowered his head. The body language of the estrazi was subtle and didn¡¯t translate well to other cultures. The nearest equivalent to the gesture was a sneer. ¡°Even if I did not have a duty, I should not be given the work of servants.¡±

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    Little Water¡¯s tail twitched in agitation. She couldn¡¯t help wondering if he would have been so dismissive of her sisters but it was a useless sentiment. ¡°Dismissed.¡±

    ¡°Keep well.¡±

    She didn¡¯t spare him a glance as he ran off, guiding her lesser sibling into the warehouse. The first room was empty, a decoy. Its true purpose lay behind several walls, a large hole in the ground. Little Water was the first to go down, her tail touching the end of her sibling¡¯s snout.

    Despite living underground, the brood had no advantage seeing in the dark. The tunnels were built to be confusing and hazardous. As hatchlings, they were taught to hold onto each other for safety. It went beyond rank. Even the Great Mother, in a strange world where she ever deigned to crawl through tunnels like those beneath her, would follow the rule, allowing a servant to touch her if they were beside her.

    Exit tunnels were always simple. Especially the large ones. After a few minutes, the dark tunnel was brightened by a faint light. Soon after, the tunnel leveled out and they entered a wide cavern. Luminescent moss illuminated several softies lounging on flat rocks. With a pat on its side, Little Water sent her ride to rest before taking one of the several tunnels that branched off from the cavern.

    The deeper into the warren she traveled, the narrower and brighter the path became. The inhabitants of the caverns also changed. Near the surface, the caverns were inhabited by the dull-scaled estrazi that acted as the brood¡¯s main workforce. The rooms were also utilitarian, mainly storage and underground farms.

    The females lived in the deepest caverns of the warren. Theirs were the only rooms that were decorated. Not with the usual stone and ice, the two most abundant resources in their new home, but with relics from their ancestral land, the land of the majesties. For most.

    Those resources were very limited and precious. Little Water, being both young and in possession of a common affinity, did not get much consideration in that regard. Her elder sisters had plush rugs, paintings hanging from their walls, flowers that sat beneath magical lights, and trinkets to pass the time. For those of age to contribute to the growth of the brood, their birthing chambers had thermal baths, each with different medicinal benefits.

    Little Water had a small, compared to her sisters¡¯, room with a single painting on the back wall. One that depicted the Greatest Majesty, the one that raised the estrazi from simple creatures to beings of purpose. In part. To depict their benefactor in his entirety was sacrilege, as no mortal hands could do him justice. The brood had many representations in every style.

    Her painting showed a tail moving across a field of grass. Only hints of the black scales could be seen beneath the thick greenery that covered the limb, trees and bushes covering it like the glowing moss that covered the rock of the warren.

    Little Water raised a blue-scaled arm and grimaced. No matter how hard she worked, she would always be less valuable. Power couldn¡¯t bridge the gap of bloodline. She was the spare for the spares. If nothing changed, she would take a few mates of pitiful potential and spend her life giving birth to the servants that served her elder siblings with no consideration for her thoughts or desires. A life no different from her lesser siblings.

    The one thing that could change her fate was an achievement that proved she was more than her magical talents. The desire to prove herself had drawn her to the human, a rare opportunity in a land that abhorred change. Her motivations had changed considerably from the day she curiously poked her head into a room with a man chained to the floor but she still wanted to achieve something great.

    Little Water took a seat on the edge of the flat stone that served as her bed, brooding. With the absence of her servants, who were dead if they hadn¡¯t returned by now, her cavern was abnormally silent. She would have to petition her mother for new ones, something she dreaded. Her mother wouldn¡¯t care for her explanation, only that she had failed and harmed the brood for no benefit. Then there would be punishment.

    Another reason to consider her next reckless plan. By now, her human would have been taken past the walls the humans lived behind. She would have to penetrate their dwelling to find him. An operation too complicated to entrust to the mindless lessers. Even if she recruited some of the more talented servants, like her father¡¯s guards, they wouldn¡¯t understand or appreciate the importance of the mission.

    No, if she wanted a chance at success, Little Water would have to go herself. And she would have to move quickly. Once night fell, her mother¡¯s personal servants would sweep the warren and report on its state. They would tell her about the lack of servants in her cavern. Then Little Water would be summoned.

    Before then, she needed to prepare supplies, gather a capable force, and get far enough away that it would be too much of a bother to go after her. Ambitious goals that she had no idea how to achieve without making her situation worse. She sat in her empty cavern for a long time, trying to think of a masterful plan.

    Eventually, she had to admit such a plan didn¡¯t exist or was beyond her means. Thinking was not her strong suit. Initiative was. What she lacked in ability, she would make up for in daring.

    Having made up her mind, Little Water stood from her place and ran back the way she came.

 Miniarc-Inevitable End-05

    Her first stop was the dome, named after its spherical ceiling. It was one of the largest caverns in the warren and filled with structures to train the brood¡¯s warriors. There wasn¡¯t much cause for them, as an enemy hadn¡¯t breached their territory since the first century they relocated to their current home, but it was tradition.

    Most of their warriors slumbered in different caverns, hibernating so they wouldn¡¯t be a drain on the brood¡¯s resources until they were needed. She couldn¡¯t imagine how many there were after hundreds of birth cycles. Enough that the brood didn¡¯t have to fear war, even without the titans.

    Those training within the dome were the newest generation. Hardly the most capable the brood had to offer but they also had yet to be assigned duties. That meant they would follow her orders without question. At least until someone of higher rank overruled her.

    After scanning the cavern, she settled on the group running the advanced obstacle course. Strength wouldn¡¯t do her any good. She needed speed and stealth. If they were here, it was because they had the aptitude to become scouts for the brood. Exactly the force she needed.

    The lessers gave way as she crossed the cavern. Among their number were both dull-scales and those with hue, showing they had talent in magic if untrained. At the head of the course, she spoke aloud, ¡°Someone run to the end and bring the others here.¡±

    As expected, they did as instructed without question. In moments, two dozen estrazi stood before her. ¡°You, you, and you.¡± She pointed out one of the dull-scales that had an abnormally large tail that would be difficult to hide, a black scale, and a speckled scale. The physical and the null affinity were too precious to take on a whim. While she was being brash, she didn¡¯t intend to abandon the brood. Taking away such valuable resources would mean her execution if she dared to return.

    ¡°You.¡± She pointed to a red scale. ¡°Go to the storage and prepare rations for a month-long journey. Have it packed into sacks and prepare rope to secure them. You and you.¡± She pointed to a blue and brown scale. ¡°Go to the surface and prepare enough sleds to carry our supplies.¡± She would have loved to take a few of the softies to pull them but they were also a valuable resource. Worse, she couldn¡¯t take them past the wall and the poor creatures weren¡¯t clever enough to find their way back alone. If she didn¡¯t want them to disappear in a storm, her group would be making the journey on foot.

    ¡°The rest of you, retrieve discrete weapons, long cloaks, and medicine. Once you¡¯re ready, make sure the supplies are loaded onto the sleds and wait on the main road of the village. Dismissed.¡±

    They scattered immediately, disappearing into different tunnels. Little Water felt a small thrill. Now that she had given the orders, she had sealed her fate. If someone asked, she would have no excuse. Even if they stopped her, the plot alone would be enough to warrant a strict punishment.

    The thought spurred her to move faster. Back down, to a cavern much larger than her own. The warren had no doors. If a member of the brood wanted to show deference or was visiting someone who became irritable at invasions of their territory, they paused just outside of the room and crooned, announcing their presence. Little Water let out a melodious warble that echoed off the cavern¡¯s high ceiling and waited with growing impatience for a response.

    It took several minutes, a purposeful waste of time, but it came, a deeper cry bidding her to enter. Little Water moved slowly despite her impatience, enjoying the lavish furnishings. Digging her toes into the soft rug was particularly delightful. She couldn¡¯t dawdle forever. Sharp eyes judged her for every moment she lingered, reminding her that although she had been welcomed, her presence was by no means appreciated.

    Lounging on several cushions atop an elevated platform lay a female estrazi with golden scales that shined as if they¡¯d been brushed with liquid sunlight. She sat up as Little Water stopped below her. ¡°This is a surprise. I think this is the first time you¡¯ve visited me, little one.¡±

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    ¡°I don¡¯t dare waste your time, Sister Good Light.¡± Saying her name reminded Little Water to tread carefully. Good Light was one of her more talented sisters, one step away from being named Great, the pinnacle of magical power within the brood.

    The brood didn¡¯t believe in waste. Therefore, she didn¡¯t fear her sisters would harm her unprovoked. However, if someone like Good Light wished to, it would be a sin easily forgiven. To the brood, she wasn¡¯t worth one of her sister¡¯s little horns. If she made her sister angry, Good Light could ruin her life with a casual wave of her hand. It was why Little Water never spoke with her more powerful sisters if she could avoid it.

    This time, the need outweighed the risk.

    The estrazi did not feel fear. Not the way a human would describe it. They were servants meant to handle problems that could annoy the majesties. Balking or retreating from their duties wasn¡¯t acceptable.

    While they didn¡¯t feel fear, they could feel anxiety. Little Water¡¯s tail twitched, giving away her discomfort as she was scrutinized, but it didn¡¯t keep her from speaking. Finally, Good Light turned her head with a huff. ¡°Don¡¯t waste my time pretending you came here for sentiment. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I would like to borrow a tool from you.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Which one?¡±

    ¡°¡­the scale gifted to you by mother.¡±

    Good Light¡¯s eyes snapped to her, her impassive gaze laced with scorn. ¡°You refer to the gift of the majesties as a simple tool? Have you no respect?¡±

    ¡°I respect it and the majesty it came from very much. That doesn¡¯t change its nature.¡± She also needed it. She felt much better asking for it if she downplayed its importance. ¡°It is a tool and tools are meant to be used. Is that not why they were given to us?¡±

    ¡°They were meant to be used if the brood came under attack or someone attempted to break the seal on the Defiler. Not for¡­whatever you mean to use such a precious resource for.¡± She huffed when Little Water avoided her gaze. ¡°You dare make me ask for an explanation? Have you forgotten the meaning of sincerity?¡±

    ¡°I need it to go places where I won¡¯t be welcome.¡±

    ¡°If you are not welcome, then you shouldn¡¯t go.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s important.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see how a human man is more important than my scale.¡± Good Light scoffed at the way her sister¡¯s tail froze. ¡°Don¡¯t look so surprised. It¡¯s quite obvious what you want. Chasing a mate is rather unbecoming of you, little one. Are you even sure it¡¯s a viable match? He is quite different from us in that regard.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t about mating,¡± Little Water grumbled. ¡°It is about forging a better future for the brood.¡±

    ¡°Since when does the brood¡¯s future involve any other race? Don¡¯t play coy. This is about your future. So, little one. Convince me. Why should I invest so much in your future?¡±

    ¡°Is stopping a future war not enough of a benefit?¡±

    ¡°The brood is not afraid of war. There are thousands of estrazi slumbering in our territory. Enough to drown the armies that march past the human¡¯s walls three times over with plenty to spare. Our mission is to ensure the Defiler stays beneath the waters. How does your selfish whims benefit that mission?¡±

    Little Water¡¯s thoughts spun as she searched for a convincing argument. ¡°Father spoke of a second calamity in the human lands. He says that the calamities meeting is inevitable. If I go, I can find critical information that ensures that it doesn¡¯t end in tragedy.¡±

    ¡°You would willingly seek out a calamity? If you have nothing else, you have a brave heart, little one.¡± Good Light cradled her head as her tail thumped the cushion beneath her. ¡°¡­very well.¡± Her eyes glowed as she raised a finger. A ray of light extended from it, illuminating a small, ornate box on a shelf carved from the opposite wall.

    Little Water huffed when she saw there was no easy way to reach what she needed. She didn¡¯t dare ask Good Light to fetch a servant from her adjoining room, as a powerful female didn¡¯t share space with dull-scales. With reluctance in her heart, she grabbed the uneven wall and hauled herself up it. While unpleasant, the task was relatively easy. Good Light¡¯s spell disappeared once she had the box in her hand.

    Little Water dropped to the floor and raised the lid. Resting atop several layers of white cloth was a golden scale. It was duller than Good Light¡¯s own scales, which meant it had lost most of its power. Little Water was fairly confident that it would be able to function as intended but how long it would last was questionable.

    ¡°A trade, little one. I give you my scale. In return, if you don¡¯t return with this critical information, you¡¯re mine to do with as I please. Mother won¡¯t interfere so don¡¯t think you can escape through death. Agreed?¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Little Water didn¡¯t have the leeway to negotiate or refuse.

    ¡°Good. Run along then. You have a long way to travel and you want to reach the walls before the spring storms come.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± She gratefully took the chance to escape, hurrying from her sister¡¯s cavern while holding the box against her chest.

    Shrewd eyes watched her until she disappeared. ¡°Satisfied, Father?¡±

 Miniarc-Inevitable End-06

    In a corner of the large cavern, the darkness peeled away to reveal the elder sitting on a flat rock covered in luminous moss, surrounded by his nameless, a glow leaving the gold-scaled guard¡¯s eyes as he released the spell that¡¯d hidden them. ¡°It will do.¡±

    Atop her cushion, Good Light hummed. ¡°I admit, I expected a bit more praise after sacrificing something as valuable as a majesty¡¯s scale. They are not easy to come upon.¡±

    ¡°A piece of the majesties is indeed valuable but not as valuable as your mother¡¯s goodwill. The scales were given to the brood to be used. You have no use for it in the safety of your cavern. Is it not better to give it to your sister in her time of need?¡±

    The female estrazi snorted through her nose. ¡°To be honest, I care little for the will of the majesties that have abandoned us in this land of eternal ice, my mother¡¯s goodwill, or my wayward sister¡¯s fate. I care about you, Father. What of your goodwill? This is ultimately a request from you. I had hoped that you would exchange a favor for my cooperation.¡±

    The elder chuckled softly. ¡°What kind of favor were you hoping for?¡±

    ¡°I would have thought that to be obvious. I want to know what the Great Eye sees in my future.¡± She leaned forward, golden eyes narrowing as she stared at him. ¡°Particularly if I will take mother¡¯s place.¡±

    ¡°Your mother is still strong. She doesn¡¯t need to think of a replacement.¡±

    Good Light speared him with her gaze but he didn¡¯t flinch, let alone react. With a deep sigh, she resettled on her cushion. ¡°You could have just said no. I would prefer if you didn¡¯t lie to me.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Why?¡±

    ¡°Because when I consider your gifts, I can¡¯t help thinking that your lies have a deeper agenda than I can imagine. It makes me nervous.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking too much.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. I can¡¯t help but think too much. Which is why I prefer you remain straightforward. Consider that the favor you owe me.¡±

    ¡°You continuously talk of favors and what is owed. If you wish to take your mother¡¯s place, then the brood must be your highest concern. What you¡¯ve done today is for the brood, not me. So, should it be you owing me a favor?¡±

    ¡°Please. How is my sister running off to die in foreign lands beneficial to the brood? I don¡¯t need your gifts to know that whatever she¡¯s doing, she¡¯s doing for herself and will likely fail. The scale has lost most of its power but even when it was freshly picked from the majesty¡¯s tail, it couldn¡¯t give an incompetent like Little Water the means to infiltrate an enemy country unscathed. I doubt my younger sister even knows what it does.¡±

    ¡°None can use the scales to their full potential.¡± In his visions, he saw magical tools crafted for a single purpose through the use of strange symbols. The majesties didn¡¯t need the crutch of spellcraft. The estrazi were blessed the same. They shaped magic with their wills. For the majesties, a will so powerful that it remained in their scales and bones.

    Originally, the scales gifted to the brood were capable of unleashing the magic of those they came from. Nothing was immune to the ravages of time. Not even the flesh of the majesties was a perfect vessel for mana. After centuries of its power leaking into the environment, it would be a miracle if it could show a fraction of its original power. However, they had a second function that still made them valuable.

    They could boost the magic of someone with a matching affinity. The stronger the estrazi wielding it, the bigger the effect. That was why they were given to the females, the most magically talented. There was little cause for Good Light to use hers but her sisters had used their scales to erect the false mountain their mother resided in along with the city of ice at its base.

    Little Water and the scale of light were incompatible. The most she could do was unleash its original magic and it only had enough mana to do so once. To Good Light, it undoubtedly would appear to be a waste but the elder had seen how Little Water would use the scale, or at least the most likely way. He¡¯d also seen what would happen if she faced that challenge without the scale. ¡°But your sister can make better use of it than you.¡±

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    ¡°I suppose I can only take your word for it.¡±

    ¡°If you wish to lead the brood, you will have to become accustomed to my counsel.¡±

    ¡°Again with your lies. You¡¯ll die long before mother. No, the next Great Mother needs to be a female who trusts her own judgment and doesn¡¯t become a tail-twitching mess without you there to hold her hand.¡± Good Light turned her back to the cavern, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Go. Your business with me is done, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯ve tolerated you all intruding in my rooms long enough.¡±

    The elder didn¡¯t argue with her. His black-scaled guard grabbed his elbow and helped him stand. ¡°Let me offer you one thing,¡± he called over his shoulder just before entering the tunnel. ¡°Great Fire knows what you¡¯re planning.¡±

    Good Light turned to face him but he was already in the tunnel. She scoffed as the last tail of the guards disappeared into the gloom. ¡°Useless man,¡± she grumbled, sitting up from her cushion. ¡°Plays at being neutral but manipulating the brood unseen.¡±

    It was no secret that she disliked her father. In many ways, he went against the natural order of things. The males were the majesties¡¯ soldiers. The females birthed the soldiers and guided the brood. Once they were dropped on this continent, there was less need for soldiers. The males became workers. Even those possessing powerful greater affinities were no different.

    Only her father was the exception. He thought his gift gave him the same authority as her mother. Something reinforced by the Great Mother humoring him for centuries despite there being nothing for him to see in this desolate land. Spending his days seated by the shore and turning her sisters against each other for who knew why.

    Even Good Light, who thought nothing of him, couldn¡¯t escape the threads of his control. She didn¡¯t know what game he was playing but she still called her servants from the adjoining room, half a dozen dull scales stopping below her. ¡°Locate Great Fire,¡± she told them, watching with narrowed eyes as they hurried from her cavern.

    Once they were gone, she leapt from her perch and walked over to a plain wooden chest that was easily dismissed amongst the other treasures in the room. She knelt and opened it, moving aside bundles of colorful fabric. Near the bottom lay a small, ornate box. She pulled it out and slapped the chest closed with her tail.

    It curled with excitement as she opened the box. Nestled between layers of silk was another golden scale. It was smaller than the one Good Light gifted her sister but had a brighter shine, showing it contained more mana. Pulled from the crown of the majesty¡¯s head, it contained far more mana that would take another couple of centuries to fade. Her mother had the larger tail scales in abundance but there were only nine of the crown scales. One for each affinity. The true weapons meant to protect the brood in the event of tragedy.

    And one was given to her. Her mother¡¯s way of saying she agreed with Good Light¡¯s views. She had no illusions that she was special. Undoubtedly, some of her more accomplished sisters had also received their mother¡¯s favor but she was reassured that even if she wasn¡¯t the next Great Mother, the future leader of the brood would share her ideals.

    To ensure as much, she had to take care of the more problematic elements in the warren. She wasn¡¯t the most talented of her sisters but she¡¯d received the scale anyway. Good Light knew it was because she was more¡­proactive. If she was in a pessimistic mood, she¡¯d say she was the most easily spurred to action.

    Sometimes, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was being used by her parents, the same way she used the brainless dull scales. It wasn¡¯t a thought that particularly upset her. The estrazi, even the first Great Mother, were elevated from mere beasts to be servants. What gave them pride was being the best servants. A dragon, even if it served another, was still a dragon. By embracing their place at their masters¡¯ feet, they rose higher than any other mortal race.

    Good Light would also embrace her role as her mother¡¯s servant as, one day, it would give her power over the brood. Her heart was calm as she palmed the scale, despite anticipating chaos. The brood did not compromise. Removing Great Fire¡¯s influence would not be a matter of discussion¡­but of force.

    Her wayward sister might not have much going for her but she did have some luck. Little Water¡¯s obsession with the human was foolish but at least she had found a purpose beyond birthing workers. And she had good luck. Somehow, wasting her time with a bald ape had set her on an unexpected, if ultimately pointless, quest.

    She would be the first female to venture beyond the Peaks. A feat that wouldn¡¯t earn her any respect from the other females, who cared little for the world, but it distinguished her nonetheless. Just in time to avoid a culling that she would have little hope of surviving. No one went against Good Light¡¯s vision for the brood¡¯s future more than Little Water. Her younger sister wasn¡¯t a threat but she would have taken the chance to be rid of her anyway.

    Was that the point of Great Eye¡¯s schemes? It didn¡¯t matter. Despite his protection, Little Water was acting against the brood. If she didn¡¯t return with results, Good Light wouldn¡¯t even have to raise a hand to deal with her. Though, when the time came, it wouldn¡¯t surprise her if she were volunteered to carry out the grim duty.

    Claws scraping against stone drew her attention to the tunnel that led from her cavern. One of her servants returned, skidding to a stop before her, and bowing its head in subservience. ¡°Found Great Fire.¡±

    ¡°Lead the way.¡±

 Miniarc-Inevitable End-07

    Little Water didn¡¯t expect her meeting with her sister to go so well. It was suspicious how quickly Good Light had given into her request. Suspicious that she had given in at all. Little Water had been prepared to sacrifice half of everything she would ever own as well as her first three clutches. Receiving a treasure like the majesty¡¯s scale was for free was beyond her comprehension but she didn¡¯t pause long enough to question the strange turn of events.

    Her next stop was to the storage rooms. Not the larger ones near the surface that contained food and water, but the smaller ones near her sisters¡¯ caverns. They contained trinkets from the old continent, as well as what their warriors brought back from other lands.

    Some of it decorated her sister¡¯s caverns, namely the furniture and better fabrics that caught their attention, but most of it had sat in the same place for centuries, remembered only by the workers that occasionally dusted them off. Including large piles of gold bars and chests containing hundreds of uncut gems.

    Little Water took a moment to remember the human¡¯s face when she showed off the brood¡¯s trash, amazed that he¡¯d called them treasures. The shinier pieces were sometimes used to decorate her sisters¡¯ rooms but the rocks and metals were entirely useless to the brood. She couldn¡¯t believe that humans fought and killed for them. Remembering the story, she stuffed as much as she could in two sacks before carrying them to the surface.

    The nameless followed her instructions well and waited on the main road of the false city alongside three sleds. Each of them wore long cloaks with hoods long enough to hide their long necks and mouths when they bowed their heads. No bulges or seams gave away the presence of weapons, which was a good thing. Hers was not a strong group. If possible, Little Water would like to avoid fighting but from the stories she was told, human society would not be so accommodating. Their one advantage was surprise.

    Staring at them, the young estrazi felt the impossibility of her mission keenly. She could feel it bearing down on her shoulders like a physical weight as she tied her treasures to a sled and ordered the nameless to push.

    The night was quiet as a grave as they started their journey. Nothing marked her reckless decision that could change the fate of every creature on the continent. The silence made her think the world didn¡¯t care at all. Reminded her how insignificant she was. A dozen of her sisters were better qualified for such a mission but since none of them cared, fate had to settle for her.

    The nameless were used to intensive labor. With their brisk pace, it didn¡¯t take long before they had cleared the city and were no longer treading a smooth, if slippery, road. Pushing through the snow that seemed to become deeper with each step, Little Water felt her stamina quickly waning She could easily cross the snow and ice with her magic but it had to be preserved for when they inevitably encountered a threat.

    She didn¡¯t try to maintain her dignity for long and sat on the lightest sled, using the bags for cushioning. Not once did she care for the extra burden on the nameless pushing her forward. Females sacrificed physical strength for magical talent. It was the way of things for the males to take the burdens. Her mother, what she and all her sisters aspired to be, hadn¡¯t gotten to her feet since her mountain was completed, letting her children be her hands and limbs. It would be more unreasonable to think she could keep up with their pace.

    They hadn¡¯t gone too far when, suddenly, the dark night was illuminated by a tall plume of fire, accompanied by a wave of warm air. ¡°Stop!¡± she hissed, standing to get a better view. Her heart pumped fiercely as she watched the pillar of flames shift colors. Red, blue, white, yellow, green, purple. Unnatural colors.

    She rapidly drew conclusions. There was both a Good Fire and a Great Fire amongst her sisters. Either of them could have created the magic she was witnessing but only one had the temperament. Great Fire was notoriously volatile. Her idea of fun was testing her spells against titans. She was the only one reckless enough to unleash such large spells, essentially gambling with her life each time.

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    After centuries of birthing daughters, the brood only had two females with the fire affinity. They tended to die young.

    Despite her fall from grace, the Defiler was still a majesty. Their dominion over magic was unparalleled. Buried under her opposing element and sealed by the magic of her siblings, she could still manipulate fire as easily as breathing. Especially large concentrations of it. Every time such a spell was launched, it was a chance for the Defiler to lash out at the ones guarding her prison.

    After the first time a previous Fire had carelessly launched a spell that the Defiler detonated, destroying the original false city and killing hundreds of estrazi, including the ignorant female who¡¯d only wanted to practice her magic, there was a deep distrust for the affinity. For a time, it was thought that any estrazi born with it were cursed.

    The belief that affinity influenced personality was a myth propagated by too many stereotypes. Yet, it was undeniable fact that estrazi females born with the fire affinity tended to be hot-tempered. The type prone to launching big spells on the surface despite knowing that a malevolent dragon could take control of them. Generation after generation, none heeded the warnings of Great Mother.

    The brood was not a warm place and it had nothing to do with the cold land they found themselves on. They were all related by blood but there was no familial warmth between them. The females were pragmatic before anything else. If they thought their sisters might be a problem, they wouldn¡¯t hesitate to get rid of them.

    There were several generations of the elder females suffocating and bludgeoning their newborn sisters the moment they saw red scales. When that was frowned upon, they took to throwing them into the sea, giving them directly to the Defiler.

    Only an order from the Great Mother stopped the massacre. Still, those of the fire affinity weren¡¯t treated well. Their every action was scrutinized, looking for the slightest hint of the supposed curse. As a result, most of them grew up timid. Some even refused to explore their magical potential. That was Good Fire, who¡¯d had the same name for over a century.

    Great Fire was a strange exception. Estrazi knew no fear but she took it to another level. She knew no hesitation. The eyes watching her, the brood, and the Defiler all be damned, she¡¯d flaunted her magic nearly from the day she hatched. She threw spells around the surface as if daring the evil dragon to curse her.

    Miraculously, it had never happened. Whether Great Fire was protected by fate or the Defiler had truly let go of her anger, as father claimed, her spells had never been detonated. She practiced for decades without issue. Many hoped that the curse was finally broken.

    The Defiler hadn¡¯t acted in years but they all remained cautious of her. Even Great Fire. She refused to be suffocated but she did know some restraint. The pillar of fire that turned night to day was the opposite of restraint. Little Water guessed that her elder sister had unleashed every drop of mana in her core. That wasn¡¯t practice. It was a provocation.

    In all the stories, the Defiler had an ego that could swallow the sun. It was impossible to ignore such an obvious taunt.

    Little Water¡¯s tail drooped with dread as the colorful fire became impossibly brighter and rose into the sky. ¡°Go, go!¡± she ordered with a hint of panic. She didn¡¯t know why the ball of death moving higher and higher hadn¡¯t already exploded but she did not want to be around when she did.

    The nameless quickly followed her order. Picking up on her distress, they moved at a much quicker pace, sprinting through the snow. Watching the small sun growing larger, Little Water could only think that it wasn¡¯t fast enough. Hours later, she still didn¡¯t feel safe. She wanted to urge the nameless to keep running but they¡¯d already run through the night. They¡¯d run to their deaths if she ordered but she wouldn¡¯t kill them because she was afraid they were going to die. With great reluctance, she settled down into a restless sleep, not at all sure she would wake up.

    She did, though she didn¡¯t feel very rested. When she woke, the small sun remained in the sky. Looking at it still filled her with dread. So much so, she roused the nameless and made them eat while walking. The faster they were past the humans¡¯ wall, the better she would feel. She would have never imagined the day would come when she would feel safer amongst another race than within the warren.

    One thing was certain. Whether it was the result of her quest or the meddling of their great enemy, the north was about to change.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-01

    To the people of Harvest, Victory was another world. It looked different, painted in shades of white and gray as opposed to the vibrant greens and golds that colored majority of the kingdom. The people walked differently, accustomed to stomping through the snow, talked crudely by capital standards, and they believed in different, insane, things.

    Unlike most of the young men native to the north, Lancecain had been beyond the tall walls of his home. Said trips had mostly consisted of short hunting trips to hone his abilities against different types of manabeasts. He¡¯d walked under a clear blue sky and eaten fragrant dishes that weren¡¯t some variety of roasted monster. Despite that, his definition of a beautiful day was a carpet of fluffy gray clouds with murky rays of light shining down on a field of white snow.

    Walking through Victory, his breath fogging on the frosty air and his arms full of the makings of a good meal, Lancecain was in a good mood. The year¡¯s campaign hadn¡¯t gone as he¡¯d hoped, having expected the push much deeper into enemy territory. He was sure they could have. Their army hadn¡¯t even suffered any injuries.

    He suspected that their leaders had been holding back. Something unthinkable for a native of the north but it wasn¡¯t unusual for outsiders to balk, lacking the dedication of someone who had grown up around the war. He¡¯d expected more of Alana¡¯s¡­loved ones. Especially Alana¡¯s loved ones. He expected the bastard with too much to prove to urge them forward until at least half the army succumbed.

    If it were anyone else, their accomplishments would be more than sufficient. Hundreds of monsters slain, including a goliath, which was a threat that would have done devastating damage to a regular army, all without losing a single man. She should have been celebrated. Would have been if they hadn¡¯t made such a spectacle of their power. As it was, those that had remained in the fort and welcomed the youngest James daughter home wondered if she had lost her passion for her family¡¯s quest.

    Many were appeased by the explanation presented by Khan¡¯s apparent betrayal. It made sense to leave the enemies ahead to the more experienced and return to protect their back from a traitor. Lancecain, who knew Alana better, had doubts.

    She pursued her goals with the self-sacrificing determination her family was famous for. If she had wanted to go deeper, she would have dragged her brother, the strange reptilian creatures, and any other hindrances behind her for as long as her legs would carry her.

    No, he was sure that there was another reason Alana didn¡¯t try her hardest but he wasn¡¯t the type to probe. He would have hoped that she would confide in him as a friend but had to acknowledge that she wasn¡¯t quite as fond of him as he would like. Lancecain had to content himself with returning home safely. If other matters were his concern, they would reveal themselves.

    With several armies beyond the walls, the fort was much quieter than usual. Quiet enough he could hear each crunch of his steps in the snow. It was soothing. He hummed alongside it, his cheerful mood at odds with the dreary atmosphere as he walked toward the norther wall.

    Victory did not have a need for luxury. As a consequence, many status symbols of the south had no importance to the northerners. Rather, it was things that others took for granted that separated the powerful from the common. One being private residences.

    Most of Victory¡¯s population were soldiers who didn¡¯t require much domestic maintenance. They stayed in communal housing, usually provided by their orders, until they were ready to start their own families. Something they only did after a few campaigns, which many didn¡¯t survive. As such, there were very few private homes within the walls.

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    One of those homes belonged to Lancecain¡¯s master, a gift from the duke himself. To Lancecain¡¯s knowledge, his master hadn¡¯t been involved seriously with a woman for his entire life and disregarded any notions of starting a family once he found a capable disciple. The knight, well-accustomed to the north¡¯s ways, didn¡¯t care to take up limited space within the walls by occupying a house he didn¡¯t need but he was too distinguished a character to go unrewarded.

    Sir Polluck didn¡¯t give it much thought, only concerned that he had a bed to sleep in at the end of the day. Lancecain was more appreciative of the privacy. He had moved in with his master once Sir Polluck determined there was nothing left for the Duelists to teach him. Given that he spent much more time in it than Sir Polluck, Lancecain found it easy to think of the house as his own.

    He was the one who shoveled a walkway to the front door every other day, caught in an endless struggle with the unrelenting snowfall. He also had the door painted a dark blue and commissioned ice sculptures of miniature manabeasts to decorate their small yard.

    Seeing the cute renditions of the horrible creatures that claimed the lives of thousands every year always amused him. His master never looked at them twice. Polluck¡¯s attention was consumed with training and fighting. When he couldn¡¯t do those two things, he brooded in his old chair that sat before a simple fireplace, watching the flames dance.

    That was how Lancecain found him. ¡°Master, I¡¯ve returned with dinner. Unless you¡¯re hungry now. I¡¯m fine with a late lunch.¡±

    He didn¡¯t receive a response as he carried his burdens into the kitchen. Reaching into a cabinet, he pulled out a brown bottle with a simple label glued to the front, blank except for a green H. The Herbanacle brought by Lady Tome was simply too good to pass up. He would have bought barrels of it if he had the gold, but it was understandably expensive. He¡¯d already dipped into his master¡¯s savings for the six bottles he grabbed.

    He didn¡¯t feel bad about it. His master spent his vast wealth accumulated by risking his life slaying titans on nothing but new weapons, new armor, and maintaining them. Lancecain would inherit everything of his master¡¯s one day. He didn¡¯t see anything wrong with spending a little of it early to bring a little life into their home.

    Grabbing two cups, Lancecain moved to the living room. He filled them up before settling the bottle on the mantle and holding a cup out to his master, keeping it there for several moments before it was noticed. The older knight sniffed it and frowned. ¡°Isn¡¯t that the stuff brought by the elf?¡±

    ¡°The good stuff, you mean.¡± Lancecain waved the cup under his nose until his master took it.

    They sipped their drinks in silence for several minutes before Sir Polluck finally grumbled, ¡°You wasted a golden opportunity.¡±

    ¡°Alana¡¯s army didn¡¯t make it as far as I thought but it¡¯s obvious she has a bright future. Being in her camp may not have many benefits now but I¡¯m betting it¡¯ll be better in the long run. Though I have to wonder if they have any need for duelists. They have other means of bringing down titans.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about the campaign.¡± Sir Polluck glared at him. ¡°I¡¯m talking about Alana James and you being the next duke of Victory. I could have been calling you Lance James. You could have had the north.¡±

    ¡°You can put a sword in a boy¡¯s hand but you can¡¯t make him swing it.¡± Lancecain took a long drink, smiling as it burned a trail to his gut. A warm fog blanketed his mind and his body felt lighter, showing how strong the southern drink was. He could hold his liquor well like most men of the north but without diluting it, the Herbanacle was strong enough to put him on his ass after one cup. ¡°Alana wasn¡¯t interested.¡±

    ¡°With that face? If you put half a mind to it, you could have had her eating out of your hand.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the compliment but I think you¡¯re overestimating my charm.¡±

    ¡°She seemed to like you plenty. The two of you were always together.¡±

    Lancecain looked over. Seeing that his master hadn¡¯t drained his cup, he put the wildly inaccurate remembrances to wishful thinking. ¡°We were friendly. I think she gave me those few moments because no one else would give her the same. She never seemed comfortable around me.¡± He paused to take another drink. ¡°Besides, given her companions, I don¡¯t think I had much of a chance.¡±

    Polluck grunted. ¡°You still might have a chance. If Alana is to be the duchess, she¡¯ll need an heir.¡±

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-02

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die, Master.¡± He hadn¡¯t spoken much with Lady Tome but he had the feeling she was a jealous woman. ¡°Have you forgotten the elf has a pure physical affinity? They didn¡¯t seem concerned about it at the feast.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s still a woman.¡±

    ¡°If she wants to be. Healers don¡¯t only heal. There are men that pay good money for a little extra length on their sword.¡±

    Polluck laughed, a little Herbanacle sloshing over the rim of his cup as his arm shook. Lancecain winced softly at the waste. ¡°You know something about that, do you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly happy with what I have. The point I¡¯m trying to make is that if they can do that, I imagine it¡¯s possible to forge a sword, even if it isn¡¯t very durable. Especially for someone with magical talent that belongs in legends. I suppose I should also mention again that I don¡¯t particularly want to be the next duke.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about being the duke!¡± Polluck said, jumping to his feet. ¡°It¡¯s about changing the war. The north has grown soft. It feels like there are more outsiders than us marching in the campaigns and there are orders actively working to curb the war.¡±

    ¡°They are advocating for more time before the campaigns and forging deeper connections with the rest of the kingdom.¡± Things Lancecain didn¡¯t necessarily disagree with. The way his master looked at him, he could have said that the James needed to burn at the stake and Fort Victory abandoned. Lancecain held up a placating palm and hid behind his cup.

    ¡°Fewer and fewer titans have been spotted for the past decade.¡±

    ¡°Those are unreliable studies.¡± If two titans showed up one year, and ten the next, anything between those numbers could show up the third year. There was no rhyme or reason behind it. Anyone that said they could prove otherwise was either arrogant or crazy.

    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about any studies. I¡¯m talking about my own experience fighting in the north for two decades. I can feel it. Those bastards are weakening. And yet, we¡¯re not pushing any farther because we¡¯re weakening right alongside them. Victory¡¯s founders had to fight three times as hard with a fraction of our supplies. Our records show that they brought down ten times as many monsters every campaign. Do you know why Lance?¡±

    ¡°Because they were better trained and far more reckless?¡± he replied drolly.

    Polluck glared at him. ¡°Because they believed. They believed in the war and they believed they would win or die trying. That¡¯s what the north lacks. Belief.¡±

    Lancecain struggled to keep his expression neutral. The Herbanacle helped. ¡°There is plenty of belief in the north.¡±

    ¡°Belief? No. There¡¯s adherence to tradition. Men and women treading the path of their forefathers. They follow the James because they¡¯ve always followed the James. They fight because they don¡¯t know any other way to make a living. But they don¡¯t believe.¡±

    Polluck scoffed. ¡°Do you know how the Bleak Moons got their name? Because the campaigns used to be a death sentence. When they left Victory¡¯s walls, they knew they would come back victorious or they wouldn¡¯t come back at all. They didn¡¯t compare titan trophies or kill counts or whatever other nonsense the younger knights are doing these days, trying to find meaning in the war. The war should be all the meaning they need.¡±

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    ¡°Do you want things to go back to the way they were? Because I¡¯d have to disagree.¡±

    ¡°Not the way they were. The purpose of a new generation is to improve from the old. My concern is that the new generation of Victory¡¯s soldiers isn¡¯t up to the task. I¡¯d hoped that a strong leader could turn that around. That you¡¯d turn them around.¡±

    Lancecain shook his head. He didn¡¯t think he was the strong leader to bring Victory back to its former glory that his master imagined him to be. If he could do his part to keep the people of the north safe and happy, he would be content. Slapping aside countless suitors to marry a James daughter like the Northern Devil and fighting to be duke required a rampant ambition like his master¡¯s. One he¡¯d tried to instill in Lancecain but it never took.

    It didn¡¯t take a strong leap in logic to understand that his master had selected him for the task as he had no hopes of seducing Alana, and therefore becoming a James, himself. A disturbing thought but he wouldn¡¯t fault the man for his vision. His means of achieving it were rather tame and he¡¯d never tried to force Lancecain into anything.

    ¡°Alana is plenty strong enough to lead Victory into a bigger and brighter future.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you to stop being sarcastic. Your voice is too polite, people can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re being serious.¡±

    ¡°I was completely serious. Why do you think I was being sarcastic?¡±

    Polluck dropped back into his chair and took a large pull of his drink. ¡°Besides leading what could be the shortest campaign in the history of Victory and promptly leaving the north? Her father arranged for me to instruct her at the Hall. She refused my instruction, citing that the elf was her teacher.¡±

    Lancecain frowned. He didn¡¯t doubt the woman¡¯s ability but learning from someone who didn¡¯t share her affinity, and didn¡¯t even use spells, would put Alana at a severe disadvantage. ¡°I¡¯m sure she has her reasons.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Love brain. She¡¯s building a life for herself outside of Victory. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she didn¡¯t bother to return next winter.¡± Polluck drained the rest of his cup. Lancecain didn¡¯t hesitate to refill it, trusting that his master¡¯s silence meant he hadn¡¯t reached his limit. ¡°Cheh. Forget it. A simple knight like me should have known better than to try and meddle with Victory¡¯s future. I¡¯ll stick to swinging my sword. What about you, my heir? What is in store for your future?¡±

    ¡°Is swinging a sword not good enough for me?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no greater honor. But you can be more. You may not be a duke in this lifetime, but you can still change Victory for the better. You don¡¯t need a title to lead people.¡±

    Lancecain¡¯s brows furrowed as he felt the first hints of concern. ¡°That sounds like you¡¯re asking me to start a coup.¡±

    ¡°Impossible. I¡¯m saying you can fight the idiots trying to make the north sound like a pit of corpses. The young people see the old skeletons who¡¯ve lost their will to fight spouting nonsense about how their lives will be oh-so much better outside of Victory and put down their swords. I almost don¡¯t blame them. No one wants that kind of fate. You present another option.

    ¡°You¡¯re young, strong, handsome, and personable. Wealthy too, eventually. The other young knights admire you. Someone like you should be the face of the campaigns, not useless fossils trying to destroy us from the inside.¡±

    Lancecain didn¡¯t immediately reject the notion. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to be a symbol. I¡¯m just me.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s more than enough. Victory doesn¡¯t need heroes or saints. We fight for ourselves. What the younger knights need is someone to rally behind.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re asking me to do nothing, I accept.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too old to be a brat. Of course it¡¯d take some work. You¡¯d be trying to inspire a bunch of empty husks. If they weren¡¯t northerners, I¡¯d tell you it was completely impossible.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Southerners put too much faith in gold. There¡¯s no room for anything else.¡±

    ¡°That so? Well, we can talk about the rest over a meal. You need something on your stomach if you¡¯re going to keep drinking.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s time to get serious, Lance,¡± Polluck called, raising his voice as Lancecain entered the kitchen. ¡°I can feel it, in my bones. The north is changing.¡±

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-03

    After their meal, Lancecain left his mentor with the rest of the Herbanacle and went for a walk. There wasn¡¯t much in the way of scenery in the north. The same for entertainment. One of his favorite pastimes was watching the large-scale drills of the Bleak Moons during the warmer months, seated in the snow with a few of his fellow Duelists and sharing a bottle. On clearer days, which for Victory meant slightly less cloudy, he brought a picnic to the wall, savoring rare dried fruits and cider as he looked over the land.

    Given it was winter, the best Lancecain could do was a walk by his order. The Polar Duelists didn¡¯t have anywhere close to the distinguished history of the Bleak Moons but they were well-respected in the north. Bringing down titans was no easy feat. Alana¡¯s lovers made it look simple but normally, even the smallest titan required a high degree of coordination and trust between a dozen or more fighters. The frontline put themselves in grave danger for indefinite periods, trusting someone else to strike down the monster that could slaughter them at any moment. The Duelists expended everything they had, usually in one attack. The resulting mana strain left them helpless as babes, no matter their strength, in the most hostile land on the continent. They had to trust their comrades to keep them safe.

    Many times, that was a tough responsibility, as titans rarely moved alone. In the scarce environment of the north, life attracted life. Where titans walked, monsters followed. It was hard enough to preserve one¡¯s own life in the midst of battle, let alone someone else¡¯s. That¡¯s how the Duelist developed their style of one man, one kill. Better for a hundred to keep an eye on one man suffering from intense mana strain than a dozen men suffering from a minor case.

    Their unique relationship bred a strong goodwill between the Duelists and the other orders. When the time came for Victory to expand, the Duelists got a piece of the land closest to the wall. It was meant to be a position of honor but it had no benefits besides shortening his commute.

    Their order was one of the least ostentatious of those outside the walls. It was a square and squat thing, with a slanted roof and narrow windows. The white and yellow paint was almost cheerful by Victory¡¯s standards, matching the fiery nature of the Duelists.

    As he approached, Lancecain noticed a commotion in front of the building. A group of trainees sparring in the snow. He knew they were trainees because they wore nothing besides pants and the odd pair of boots. Knights always fought with their heavy armor on, as going bare-chested like the young men was a death sentence beyond the walls and experience had robbed them of the youthful inclination.

    ¡°Oi, Lance!¡± One of the young men standing on the sidelines called out to him and waved him over. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Do I need a reason?¡± he returned, keeping his gaze trained on the fight. What drew his attention was the swords they wielded, as it was his specialty, even more than the light magic he would inherit. Martial prowess had never been shadowed by magical prowess in Harvest. Mainly because it took a lot less time and training for a man to stab another man with a sword than to hit him with an arrow of fire. Also, physical exhaustion hurt but could be overcome with will while mana strain laid even the most experienced soldier out for the duration of a battle, at least.

    Physical strength was especially prized in the north. They spent hours marching and fighting. Mana needed to be preserved so the more that could be done with simple steel, the better. Where melding was a rare privilege in the south, it was a standard of the northern guilds. Only those with the greatest potential were raised above the heights of mortal power but every soldier received a little of their attention, ensuring each fighter was capable of enduring the rigors of the campaigns.

    ¡°Nope. Just thought you¡¯d take a few more days to relax. It hasn¡¯t been that long since you returned.¡±

    ¡°Mm. It wasn¡¯t the worst campaign I¡¯ve marched in. I think I would have needed to do more if I was carried through the north on a palanquin. I¡¯d at least have to direct my servants which way to go.¡±

    The young man laughed, slapping Lancecain on the shoulder. ¡°Look at you bragging. Was marching with the monsters really that good?¡±

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    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t call them monsters. Trainees should know better than anyone how easily nicknames stick and you do not want those women angry with you.¡± He chuckled at the other man¡¯s wince. ¡°No campaign is good, but it was much easier than other years. To give you an idea, I didn¡¯t collapse from mana strain once.¡±

    ¡°Ancestors. Then how¡¯d they bring down that goliath? I saw the skull, it had to be massive.¡±

    ¡°Would you believe that the elf climbed inside it?¡±

    ¡°What? Wouldn¡¯t she have been crushed? How¡ª"

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, wasn¡¯t there. Busy fending off the dogs. One moment, the world is quiet and the next, I hear its dying screams in the distance. I planned to check on the situation once the camp was secure but everything was over before I got the chance.¡±

    ¡°Crazy. With that kind of strength, they could have gone much further. If only that traitor hadn¡¯t gotten in the way. A James, turning on the north. The mountain will fall on us next.¡±

    Lancecain let out a slow breath to control his reaction. The situation with Khan had surprised all of Victory. He wasn¡¯t convinced that it ended with the enemy¡¯s abusing the mental affinity, despite the show put on for them at the Witness Circle.

    If it did, the duke would have executed his son and been done with it. Sending him away from Victory said there was something else at play. It almost made Lancecain wish he shared his master¡¯s ambitious spirit. If he was a James, he wouldn¡¯t have to wonder what secrets they were keeping.

    ¡°That¡¯s not something for us to stick our noses in. Khan has suffered enough without enduring your condemnation.¡±

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t tell me you buy into that mental nonsense. I heard some of the others talk about those lizards and they were nothing special. They¡¯re supposed to have caught the best scout in the north and scrambled his brains? Pah!¡±

    ¡°Is it so hard to believe? They call themselves the estrazi and I don¡¯t think what we¡¯ve seen is their best.¡± Otherwise, the north would have been conquered long ago.

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t suppose they would send their best to get back a traitor. Bet they already squeezed out everything they needed. Ancestors must be turning in their graves. Khan was always a bit of a coward, but you would think he had the stones to end it before they could bleed him for information.¡±

    The younger knight paused to let out a short cheer as the bout finished. ¡°Hey, did you want to join in for a bit? Ah, you don¡¯t have your sword. Surprised you haven¡¯t fallen over with a part of you missing.¡±

    Lancecain smiled. ¡°Maybe I can borrow a blade.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. Not like it¡¯s going to slow you down. Oi! Lance needs a sword. Don¡¯t give me that look, it¡¯s not like he¡¯s going to bang it against a rock.¡±

    Lancecain stripped off his heavy cloak and shirt as the trainee fetched him a weapon. The previous fighters vacated the vaguely defined ring formed by their peers and were greeted by others holding salves and bandages, their shallow cuts not warranting the attention of the limited number of healers that stayed back from the campaigns in case of emergency. The pain would also temper them. Teach them not to flinch in the face of wounds, of which they would accumulate many throughout their lives.

    As Lancecain swung his borrowed weapon to familiarize himself with it, he thought about the trainee¡¯s words. His views weren¡¯t unique. Too much had happened in too short a time. Khan was especially a problem. The duke¡¯s display had quelled the worst doubts but the unassailable belief in the James family had been scratched.

    In the south, someone badmouthing a single son of a family that wasn¡¯t even an heir wouldn¡¯t be worth a raised eyebrow but the James was no ordinary family and Victory was no ordinary place. No one talked bad about them, ever. The fact that they were talking, even against a traitor, was a big problem. There wouldn¡¯t be a revolt anytime soon but if it wasn¡¯t addressed, perhaps another crack would appear. Then another and another until the scratches became a hole in their immaculate history.

    The James needed a win. A loud win that would drown out Khan¡¯s misfortune. Hopefully, the heir apparent, as Zachariah liked to think of himself, would come back with accomplishments. Ancestors knew he was motivated.

    In recent years, he had grown lax, assured that he would succeed his father. Even Yulia¡¯s marriage hadn¡¯t roused his fears, the Northern Devil being an impressive soldier but a poor choice for a leader. Lancecain knew enough to know that Yulia would make a solid support for him but the fort didn¡¯t and the opinion of the people did matter somewhat.

    Alana had certainly woken him up, having returned home riding dragons so to speak. She could do nothing but drink that amazing liquor she brought with her for the next few years and Lancecain would still put odds on the duke giving her the title. If Zach didn¡¯t make a name for himself over the next couple of campaigns, he would have no chance of ruling the north.

    His opponent finally stepped in front of him, a boy shorter than him by a head with a voice that hadn¡¯t deepened. Lancecain hadn¡¯t expected a real match, as mere trainees weren¡¯t his equal, but he was a little amused they seemed to have sent the least experienced for a lesson. Either that or the boy was some kind of genius. ¡°Come on then,¡± he said encouragingly, lazily holding his sword at his side to encourage the boy to show his abilities. Teaching the next generation was also a part of being a knight of the north.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-04

    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for the type to bully children.¡±

    Lancecain turned from his seat on a medium-sized boulder where he¡¯d retired after several bouts with the trainees to find a woman approaching him. Victory made no distinction between men and women when it came to war but they were not so far gone that they completely ignored courtesy between genders. The women also wore little while training to temper them against the cold, but they usually wore sleeveless shirts.

    His visitor had less concern for modesty than usual, foregoing the shirt for cloth wraps that did nothing to hide the swell of her chest. She had also foregone pants for simple linen shorts and her bare feet were flushed from stomping through the snow. Her short brown hair was tied back from a plain face but her wide smile gave her a certain charm.

    Lancecain eyed her toned figure, letting himself be seen as he knew she¡¯d like the attention, before meeting her gaze. As expected, she was amused. He returned her smile. ¡°If what I did was bullying, everyone in the north is a sadistic torturer. I only hit him with the blunt edge.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s worse. You¡¯d have stopped if you saw blood but if it¡¯s just bruises, you can beat him for hours.¡± She dropped cross-legged in the snow beside him, uncaring about wetting her shorts. ¡°What are you doing here anyway?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the second person to ask me that. I¡¯m starting to think I¡¯m not wanted.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be dramatic.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be better off asking you that, Iris. Isn¡¯t it a faux pas for a Solar to come waltzing amongst the men straight from training?¡± Like the Stars to the Moons, the Polar Duelists had their own adjoining order comprised solely of women, the Solar Duelists.

    ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to me? All the commanders are off for the campaigns. Lady Sunshine returned early by at least three weeks.¡± Iris huffed. ¡°Khan being a traitor is a big problem, but it isn¡¯t enough to stop a campaign. Ancestors, it feels like the younger commanders will turn around if the clouds are too gray these days.¡±

    ¡°Alana had her reasons.¡±

    ¡°Sure she did. Do you know you always defend her? Fat lot of good it¡¯s done you. She came back with not one, but two lovers. Bet that hit you hard.¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t hit me at all since I have no romantic feelings for her and we were never involved.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Your master would tell anyone who would listen that the two of you were engaged.¡±

    ¡°He told anyone who would listen what he wanted to happen, not what either of us wanted. This isn¡¯t the capital. The duke lets his children make their own decisions. Alana would never have chosen me.¡±

    ¡°But if she had, would you have chosen her? Say what you want, you never outright said you wouldn¡¯t marry her.¡±

    Lancecain smiled ruefully. He didn¡¯t love Alana and didn¡¯t think he could ever come to love her but that didn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t think they couldn¡¯t build a good life together. He also didn¡¯t want to be duke, but he did think he could do a good job. He certainly knew she could. It wouldn¡¯t be a bad life. If the situation had come to pass¡­he would do what was best for Victory.

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    He also hadn¡¯t wanted to hurt Alana¡¯s feelings. No matter what he said, a refusal would be taken as him finding fault with her. No northerner could imagine that he wouldn¡¯t want to be a James unless there was something wrong with his bride to be.

    Before she left for the Grand Hall, Alana was a sullen girl with too many grudges and too many things to prove. Combined with her dislike of him that he couldn¡¯t explain, Lancecain was convinced that she would blame him for the rumors and see him as an enemy. A James was never good to have as an enemy, no matter their status.

    As such, he¡¯d tiptoed around the topic of their supposed engagement, keeping his answers vague and his voice soft. Something that paid off. No one wanted to be her enemy now. He could only thank the ancestors that despite his master¡¯s best efforts, she still saw him as a distant friend.

    ¡°There¡¯s the truth and then there¡¯s what you want to hear. They could even be the same. The problem is, I don¡¯t think you¡¯d believe either one.¡±

    ¡°Bastard. You¡¯re avoiding the question.¡±

    ¡°Is that really what you came here to ask?¡± He turned away from the amateur bouts of the trainees to face her, lips turning up in a suggestive smile.

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t start. You don¡¯t have the James girl to hide behind anymore. Your flings are going to start wanting a real commitment. Like my sister. You¡¯ve been avoiding her.¡±

    Lancecain¡¯s smile stiffened at the ends. ¡°I would appreciate it if you wouldn¡¯t slander me casually. I never hid behind anyone.¡± He got along well with the young women of the north. Neither party had any illusions about what they were after. In most cases, it was the women turning down hopeful men who wanted more, as their orders frowned on relationships while they marched in the campaigns. But every rule had an exception. ¡°And yes, I¡¯ve been avoiding Eris. For obvious reasons.¡±

    He was too polite to insult a woman without very strong cause, but Eris¡¯ reputation was widespread enough that he didn¡¯t have to.

    Iris wasn¡¯t fazed. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to fuck her,¡± she said with the usual bluntness of women educated about sex and its consequences the day they picked up their first wooden sword. ¡°I¡¯m asking you to stop treating her like she¡¯s carrying a plague. The two of you were friends before. You can say hi once in a while.¡±

    ¡°I could¡­but then Eris might get the wrong idea again. And then she might put a spear through a poor woman¡¯s gut again. How many did it take to pull her off? Five?¡±

    ¡°Seven. Five to pull her off and two more to hold her down while the others tended to their wounds. Come on, Lancecain. You know how passionate she is and you were her first love. Are. Our mothers and aunts can warn us all they want but the heart can¡¯t be controlled like a sword arm.¡±

    ¡°You are not being very convincing.¡±

    ¡°Why do I have to say anything else? You liked her too, didn¡¯t you? The two of you were closer than a northie and their armor.¡±

    ¡°Until she tried to disembowel me.¡±

    ¡°After you made a spectacle of yourself with that girl from the Stars. Saying no commitment is one thing. Watching the man you slept with last night kissing another woman in the morning would make anyone angry. Eris is just a little quicker to express her anger than most.¡±

    Lancecain sighed but did nothing to hide his reluctance.

    ¡°Fine, fine. I¡¯m done meddling in your two¡¯s affair. Talk to her or don¡¯t but I promise you if you don¡¯t, she¡¯ll find you.¡± Iris climbed to her feet. ¡°Today isn¡¯t yesterday. Pretty soon, you¡¯re going to succeed your master. He expects you to have little Lances to secure his legacy before then. Try telling a woman you¡¯re only in it for a good time when she¡¯s having your firstborn.¡± She clapped him on the shoulder and walked away while chuckling. ¡°Stop by for dinner whenever you want.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Lancecain muttered. He knew Iris was correct. If he wasn¡¯t going to marry Alana to be the next duke, his master would want him to settle down as quickly as possible. The woman didn¡¯t matter, as Alana was the only woman with the light affinity in the north. If it wasn¡¯t her, it didn¡¯t matter, and there were plenty of women in the fort who understood a contractual marriage. He knew his master would be pestering him to be married with a child on the way before next year¡¯s campaign. Another reason he hadn¡¯t been firm with his reluctance to his supposed engagement. Now, there was nothing to hold back the agendas aimed at him.

    Things were changing and not all for the better.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-05

    The next day, Lancecain was walking home having retrieved his blade left with a smith for maintenance, when a group caught his attention. A half dozen Moon jogged past him. Brows furrowed, he followed, walking slowly in case he was approaching a situation he had no business sticking his nose in.

    He was beyond surprised when he heard the distinctive sound of the northern gate slamming shut, the sound carrying far with the lack of activity in the fort, and picked up his pace. There was only one reason for the north gate to open. An army had returned. The problem was that it was far, far too early.

    Alana had been prompted to return because of her brother and the estrazi. He couldn¡¯t imagine that another traitor had been found in the north. Or that an event of similar gravity had transpired. That left him confused and worried.

    He came up short and stopped by the side of the road as he spotted the procession coming his way. His first thought was that the grim faces, dirty bodies, and plethora of injuries were what a returning army should look like. His second thought berated himself for the first. While it was the norm, he shouldn¡¯t glorify the armies¡¯ losses.

    From the undecorated gray of their armor and their golden shields, they were from the Order of Paradise Seekers. That explained the early return to some degree. The knight orders of Victory were not equal. While they all fought for the north and served the James, they did so for very different reasons.

    The Seekers were the new kids, so to speak. Normally, they should have a lot to prove but they weren¡¯t interested in proving themselves to the people of the north. They worked for the favor of the saints.

    Victory put far less credence in humanity¡¯s heroes than the rest of the continent, preferring to put their faith in themselves and their ancestors. The Seekers were a group that had grown tired of the grim dedication to their forefathers. They wanted to give their lives to more benevolent beings. To know that something waited for them after the bloodshed.

    They had a strange dogma that Lancecain didn¡¯t quite understand. Foremost, they believed that the war against the hordes of the north was a sacred war. That by slaying the monsters before they could threaten the rest of humanity, they would earn the favor of humanity¡¯s greatest heroes and be welcomed into the heavenly Paradise upon their deaths. The Seekers trained and fought the same as the other orders. They dragged back wagons of corpses every campaign. The problem was that they disagreed with nearly every other tradition of the north.

    They served the James but they didn¡¯t worship them the way the other orders did. In their minds, the saints were the only ones worth their veneration. The loyalty they gave the duke was the same as any other peasant beholden to a noble.

    To the people of Victory, such shallow allegiance meant they couldn¡¯t be trusted. Traditionalists hated them, considering them all traitors and their order a transparent excuse to build a private army for a coup. The only thing that kept them from being killed was that their numbers didn¡¯t pose the vaguest threat, not even reaching a thousand.

    The second problem was that they valued their lives too much, something that could only be considered a character flaw in Victory. They fought but they didn¡¯t fight nearly as hard as the other orders. They were always the first to return, this year being the exception due to Alana, and their training was notoriously ¡°soft¡±. They didn¡¯t even make their trainees do their drills bare-chested.

    All of that would be acceptable, if practices that would lead the other knight to mock them. The unacceptable section of the Seekers¡¯ dogma was that they wanted more than the north could offer. They urged the untalented and poorly connected to flee the north for the south rather than throw their lives away pointlessly. Lancecain had heard rumors they were connected with fanatical religious factions in the south that would take the youths in.

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    They could perform below average, they could curse the James, but denying the north of soldiers was unforgivable. The Seekers had a terrible reputation. So bad that despite seeing their ragged appearance, the group of Bleak Moons that had come to check on the commotion didn¡¯t make any effort to help them. No one did. Lancecain felt bad for them, but he knew who poured his cups and wouldn¡¯t be the first to lend a sympathetic hand.

    He buried his concern and focused on his curiosity, observing them as they passed. His eyes narrowed as he counted. He didn¡¯t know the exact size of the army that had left Victory but it was obvious that they¡¯d suffered heavy casualties. They also had too few wagons. The Seekers had undoubtedly met with tragedy but there was no sympathy to be found. Rather, the opposite.

    ¡°I guess your precious saints didn¡¯t descend from on high to help you,¡± a man wearing an apron splattered with blood shouted with a sneer.

    ¡°Maybe they weren¡¯t faithful enough,¡± a woman holding a young boy in her arms shouted next, the scorn in her voice almost severe enough to burn.

    ¡°Enough,¡± one of the Moons shouted but the knight said nothing in their defense.

    One of the Seekers in the lead of the procession stepped aside and raised his voice. ¡°You mock us without knowing anything. Our order has the right to believe what we want and to teach those who come to us seeking guidance what we believe. We fight just the same as everyone else.¡±

    ¡°You certainly have large ones to say that,¡± shouted another man. ¡°There¡¯s still several weeks of winter left and we haven¡¯t seen the other commanders.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be seeing them soon. Monsters didn¡¯t make us turn back. Storms did. Big, nasty storms. We ran back full pace for over a week. Over half of those days we had to march through powerful blizzards. Monsters attacked in the middle of the storms, taking both our men and our wagons. Something strange is happening beyond those walls.¡±

    ¡°Keep moving,¡± a Moon directed him, gently shoving him toward his compatriots. ¡°Rest at a bunkhouse. See to your injured, take the names of the fallen, and get a good night¡¯s rest. In the morning, you can tell the duke about what happened instead of shouting in the middle of the road. Go.¡±

    After the second urging, the man rejoined the procession. With his head down, he didn¡¯t notice Lancecain sidling up beside him until the young man tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Welcome home, sir. I¡¯m sorry for your losses.¡±

    ¡°Polluck¡¯s boy.¡± The knight was old enough that Lancecain considered him a senior and decided not to take offense at his dismissive tone. ¡°I see he taught you some manners. Only one willing to give knights a proper welcome.¡± He spat to the side. ¡°We¡¯ve lost dozens this time and have nothing to show for it. The other orders wonder why we send the young ones away? Tell me honestly that you don¡¯t think their lives are worth more than being lost in a storm. I guarantee over half of our fallen will be kids who haven¡¯t seen their third decade. Saints.¡±

    ¡°It was the storm I wanted to talk about. You said you were caught in one?¡±

    ¡°Not one, boy. Several. The first one, we marched through, hoping to get past it. It lasted for three days. We spent one night without howling winds before a second one greeted us. When we were caught in a third storm, we had no choice but to turn around. Sprinting at top speed, we should have outrun them but we still spent over half the journey unable to see further than our outstretched hands because of the flurry of snow. I¡¯m telling you, it¡¯s unnatural. Winter isn¡¯t over but it feels like late spring. Maybe summer, if someone was mad enough to go beyond the walls then.¡±

    ¡°I see. Why? What could cause it?¡±

    ¡°Do I look like a scholar? Saints¡¯ blessed asses, I studied the sword not the sky. You¡¯ve got what you want, now get somewhere. Unless you want to sully your pristine reputation helping out Victory¡¯s traitors.¡± He snorted out a laugh. ¡°Though I wonder how long you all can call us that. If the duke¡¯s own son has turned against the rigid traditions of the north, it won¡¯t be hard to sway the rest.¡±

    Lancecain pursed his lips, holding back his thoughts as he stepped away. As he jogged toward his master¡¯s house, he thought on the sudden storms and their cause. He was no scholar either, but he could assume with the best of them.

    The biggest difference between the seasons was temperature. The north never got warm but it was less cold during the spring and summer. Following that line of thinking, he could assume that a change in the region¡¯s temperature could cause the storms to come early, but he had no idea what could cause such a change.

    Except¡­maybe a spell. A very powerful, very complicated spell. One that would take an enormous amount of power to initiate and even more power to keep active for weeks. It went far beyond the level of a master caster. More than ten. Maybe more than a hundred.

    If his wild conjecture was right, what person, or being more likely, could use such powerful magic? And what would be its motivation?

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-06

    Lancecain was intrigued by the strange circumstances. Both as a knight of the north concerned for his many comrades beyond the walls and as a man with a strong sense of curiosity. There weren¡¯t many things of interest in the never-changing north so the unusual drew attention like a warm fire invited freezing hands.

    The Last Rites of an army was not a private affair by tradition. The orders were divided by ideology and specialty but they were one people. Nothing united the people of Victory like loss. The Seekers were despised but they still had friends and family who had friends and family. The majority of the Victorians might have nothing but disdain for the ¡°south seekers¡±, as they were called behind their backs, and sometimes to their faces, but during their time of mourning, their fellows set aside their reputation and gave them the sympathy they were due.

    Mindful of the occasion, Lancecain was careful with his actions as he wheedled out more details of the campaign. He got several variations of the first knight¡¯s story. A routine campaign interrupted by unexpected storms. Terrible storms that threw up a cover of snow from which the monsters ambushed them. Storms that shouldn¡¯t have appeared for at least a month.

    The strange weather didn¡¯t stop. The fort itself didn¡¯t experience anything worse than slightly stronger winds but the Paradise Seekers weren¡¯t the only army forced to return early. Lancecain was training outside the south wall when the north gate opened for the second time so he didn¡¯t find out about an army from Winter¡¯s Bounty returning until he returned to the fort for a late drink, having promised to meet with a few of his fellow Duelists.

    He almost didn¡¯t believe them when they told him that the army was led by ¡°Old Man¡± Thomas. Winter¡¯s Bounty was an order motivated by gold as much as it was by tradition. They were responsible for all the research that made the corpses of the northern hordes the knights dropped by the thousands every year valuable. Like the Duelists, they frequently lent their members out to other orders, as they were the most knowledgeable about the monsters and the best at dismantling them without shaving off a few crowns due to a clumsy cut. They also trained their members with little talent for combat as merchants. Bounty handled all the trade between Victory and outsiders, besides what the James claimed for themselves.

    His peers¡¯ words were so unbelievable because the private army sent by Bounty was where they truly got their gold. Unlike many orders, they deployed one army at a time, meaning they didn¡¯t have to split their resources between multiple commanders. That meant that said commander deployed greater numbers than most and never had to sacrifice quality.

    With great fighters, plenty of resources, and twice as much motivation, Bounty was always one of the last armies to return.

    It should have been especially true this year. Old Man Thomas was nearing the end of his campaign career. He wasn¡¯t weak by any means but too many decades fighting meant he wasn¡¯t as fast or strong as he used to be. The healers could only hold back the tide of time for so long. With another capable commander ready to succeed him, many suspected this year would be Thomas¡¯ last campaign.

    Knights of the north expected to die in battle. The old man, facing retirement, would have been courting death. If it weren¡¯t in bad taste, Lancecain would have placed a bet that his men would be carrying back his corpse. He¡¯d never suspect that Bounty¡¯s army would be one of the earliest to return.

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    Experience had taught him not to believe most of what he heard when an army returned. He took the words of his fellows as the usual creative works young men with nothing to do were fond of until a group of Bounty knights entered the small bar. The place wasn¡¯t large, being a room behind a smithy with a few tables arranged haphazardly and a half dozen barrels of beer under the serving table. It was hard to have a private conversation. Once Lancecain overheard they were from Bounty, he invited them to share a table with the lure of free drinks.

    Snowcats naturally pounced on vermin and knights naturally told war stories. Lancecain only had to prod them with a single question and the rest poured out of them like the flowing beer.

    ¡°Yeah, it was a big surprise,¡± one of them grumbled. ¡°I almost didn¡¯t believe my ears when I heard the old man wanted to turn around but he was insistent. Started kicking people in the ass when they took too long.¡±

    ¡°A good thing he did!¡± another shouted. ¡°Storms came. Ancestors watch over us. If we don¡¯t know when the sky is going to turn against us, there¡¯s no way we can fight this war. I¡¯ll take on a hundred monsters any day, but I can¡¯t do anything against wind and snow.¡±

    ¡°So he knew the storms were coming?¡± Lancecain asked, waving for refills.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Says he can feel it in his bones. I thought it was a crock of shit but the seniors took it to heart.¡±

    ¡°Never doubt the seniors,¡± the three knights from Bounty said together. The Duelists, Lancecain included, made sounds of agreement. Seniors, those who had survived dozens of campaigns, were a special bunch. None of them could be considered normal. If Thomas said that he could feel storms, Lancecain wouldn¡¯t doubt him.

    ¡°Soon as he felt the first one, we double-timed it back here. Left some of our wagons. That¡¯s how we knew it was serious.¡±

    ¡°Serious? I thought he¡¯d finally lost his mind until we got caught in the first storm. It lasted for a week. The snow was being thrown around so hard, we didn¡¯t notice an ancestor¡¯s cursed titan before it was right on top of us. Let me tell you, a few of the men were upset, thinking the old dog had gotten men killed for no reason, but when we walked out of that storm and right into another, we knew we were lucky to get out when we did.¡±

    ¡°I feel bad for the other armies. They don¡¯t have a storm sniffer like we did. We were moving fast but I know there were armies on our tails, maybe even ahead of us. They won¡¯t know something¡¯s wrong until they¡¯re caught in the first bad storm and then they¡¯re going to have to march a lot farther to safety.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s going to be a lot of casualties this year.¡±

    The mood at the table plummeted as they considered the death toll the unrest in the north would cause. Lancecain frowned as he considered that the storms would keep them from bringing back the bodies. They wouldn¡¯t have the luxury of looking for people and, in the interest of speed, they wouldn¡¯t be dragging corpses behind them. The dead deserved respect but no one wanted to see them drag down the living.

    ¡°Does the old man have any thoughts about what¡¯s causing the bad weather?¡± Lancecain asked. He could do nothing about Victory¡¯s impending losses. All they could hope for was that they could prevent more in the future.

    ¡°What? No. Should have heard him cursing about it. All he would say was that whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t natural.¡± The knight scoffed. ¡°The north doesn¡¯t change. Not the land, not the people, and not the weather. No way seasons we have known for centuries decided to change on their own.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Their words added credence to his fledgling theory that the storms were artificial. If they were, a spell was the best explanation. A spell someone or something had cast and was maintaining. That meant the only way to stop the storms was to find the one responsible and¡­stop them. Whatever it took.

    He didn¡¯t know who in the north would be up to the task of walking through worsening storms to fight what he would guess was an incredibly powerful titan, as no other creature in the north could unleash such a spell. What he didn¡¯t doubt was there¡¯d be plenty of volunteers anyway and, if the situation got any worse, they¡¯d be this generation¡¯s heroes.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-07

    One after another, the armies returned. No matter their size, no matter how prepared they were, no matter the order they belonged to, none of them could face the wrath of a bad storm. The proud warriors of the north turned tail and fled like children before their first monster, suffering countless losses that grew progressively worse the longer the poor soldiers took to return. It went from the armies losing some of their numbers, to losing half, to only fractions of them returning.

    Lancecain wasn¡¯t the only one who took an interest in the situation. As more armies returned and the weather of the fort slowly but progressively worsened, many people stood ready to welcome the survivors, hoping for news. It was always the same. Unexpected storms that lasted longer than they should have and came with a frightening frequency. As he feared, the chaos wouldn¡¯t end by itself.

    Zachariah¡¯s army was one of the last to arrive. Lancecain felt a twinge of sympathy as he saw the injured Moons slowly marching through the gate. If a single one of them had been spared injury, he couldn¡¯t tell from the abundance of wounds, not all of them bandaged, and numerous limps.

    Zach was an experienced commander, though nowhere close to the level of a senior, and he was a James son. He had enough bannermen and resources to command a large force. Lancecain would have guessed he left Victory with no less than a thousand soldiers. The force he saw returning couldn¡¯t number more than a few hundred. Less than half of the army had returned. Victory hadn¡¯t seen such terrible casualty rates in generations.

    Not even the favored heir was spared from his army¡¯s troubles. He marched at the front, his face dark as storm clouds. There were no cheers. No one sidled up beside him to offer words of comfort or ask questions. The crowd just watched silently as they made their way to the Bleak Moons¡¯ building.

    Lancecain tactfully gave him time, deciding to leave him be for at least a day before trying to look into his experience and probing the duke¡¯s intentions. To his surprise, he didn¡¯t have to wait nearly as long. He was making dinner for himself and his master when someone almost knocked down their front door with their heavy pounding.

    Lancecain dropped his knife and opened it to find the heir apparent standing on his doorstep, sans armor but still covered in bandages. From his state, it was clear he hadn¡¯t accepted healing, leaving the life-saving magic for more severe cases.

    Lancecain couldn¡¯t help feeling a bit of approval at the sight. It was what made Victory special. The son of the duke received the same training as the son of a servant and both were taught how to endure for the greater good.

    ¡°I need to talk to your master. Maybe you too.¡±

    ¡°You have impeccable timing, lord. I was just starting dinner.¡±

    He stepped aside, letting Zach pass him before shutting the door firmly. He made a quick trip to the kitchen to grab cups and Herbanacle. Zach scowled as he saw the bottle but he didn¡¯t refuse when Lancecain poured him a cup and guzzled it down, sighing deeply. ¡°Ancestors. Wish I had some of this out there. Fuck, I wish had those crazy women too. Is it true they didn¡¯t suffer a single loss? And they returned before anyone else. Alana¡¯s luck is monstrous.¡±

    Sir Polluck, in his usual place before the fireplace, huffed. ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t come here in the middle of the night to complain about your sister, lord.¡±

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    ¡°Do I look like I have that much free time? Trust me, it¡¯s important.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll finish the meal,¡± Lancecain said. Ten minutes later, he came out of the kitchen with three plates and another cup. He passed out the food and poured himself a drink. Once everyone was comfortable, Zachariah broached his business.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the two of you know the storms have come early. You also have to know they are getting worse. What you might have guessed is that this isn¡¯t natural. Something up there is causing this by making the north warm.¡±

    Polluck scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s lot of snow to melt.¡±

    ¡°And they¡¯re doing it. We marched back through cold slush instead of snowbanks. Most miserable experience of my life.¡± He took a large gulp of his drink, face flushing. ¡°Cold water seeping in my boots while ice smacks me in the face. And it¡¯s only going to get worse. We have to do something about it. Father is assembling a scouting force. Their role is to push into the north and discover what¡¯s causing this. Stopping it would be great but this is not the time to sacrifice more lives unless it¡¯s absolutely necessary. He wants to know if you¡¯ll volunteer.¡±

    Polluck glanced at Lancecain from the corner of his eye. Having been his disciple for many years, the young knight could read that look easily. Lancecain had yet to learn everything his master could teach him but he knew enough to carry on his legacy. Even his signature spell was written down and hidden away in the house. Campaigns were always dangerous. With the worsening storms and the urgency to discover an unknown enemy, this mission was far worse. Polluck was thinking he might not return and Lancecain agreed.

    ¡°Of course I will.¡± Despite that, there was never any doubt the senior knight would accept. ¡°Though I don¡¯t recommend bringing along too many Duelists. If you need speed, the last thing you need to be worried about is several men suffering from mana strain.¡± Lancecain silently agreed. Duelists didn¡¯t have the most endurance. They could handle a normal campaign fine but it sounded like this force would be sprinting day and night. A task the Moons would be better suited for.

    ¡°Father understands. What about you, Lance? Can you use your master¡¯s prized spell yet?¡±

    He shook his head. Even if he could cast it, his mana pool meant he could only activate it for less than a fraction of a second. He¡¯d have to be right on top of a titan to use it and that was a dangerous place to be.

    ¡°Then you better sit this out. Not the time to be taking chances. We¡¯re already risking enough, sending out a group with so little information and under a tight schedule. Three days to prepare for a second campaign. What a nightmare.¡±

    ¡°Three days?¡± Lancecain exclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s madness.¡±

    ¡°Normally, this is when I tell my disciple a knight of Victory is always ready to take on the hordes of the north, no matter the time or place¡­but this is indeed sudden. People need time to recover from their injuries and we need to gather supplies.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You think I don¡¯t know this is mad? The world is mad. We don¡¯t have time. If you all could leave tomorrow, Father would open the gate personally and throw you out, so to speak. As for supplies, you can forget it. We¡¯ve got dry rations and you can have as many as you can carry without slowing down.¡±

    Lancecain shook his head. ¡°That¡¯ll do them for a few days. A week, most.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be great if this was over in a week. If it isn¡¯t, they¡¯ll have to chew burnt monster bits while running. This isn¡¯t the time to talk about how hard life is, Lance. Do you know what melting snow means? Think about those mountains constantly looming over us. All the snow up there. All the monsters up there. I think everyone will agree that it¡¯s better we suffer a little to figure out what¡¯s going on before the birds get pissy about something disturbing their nests.¡±

    The young knight frowned as the situation was put into perspective. Victory¡¯s war against the northern hordes was only possible because the real threats, the Lords of Winter that were thought to make their homes atop the Bleak Peaks, stayed out of the fighting. He was sure his fellow knights would agree some discomfort during an impossible mission was worth it to keep the status quo. Especially after so many losses. There was also the matter of the estrazi and Khan¡¯s betrayal.

    Lancecain feared that three days wasn¡¯t fast enough.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-08

    The days following Zach¡¯s visit were full of activity. On the first day of the three given to prepare the exploratory force that would investigate the source of the strange weather, the last army returned. The Northern Devil had suffered as many losses as the duke¡¯s eldest, coming back with a fraction of the forces he left with. Worse, he had severe injuries, including a missing hand and a broken leg. Like the other armies, they ditched their wagons to save time and the field commander was tied to the back of a grimgar, the long-haired mounts preferred in the north. An inglorious way to return home but form all appearances, the man was lucky to have survived.

    Lancecain didn¡¯t witness the event personally as the Devil was immediately whisked off to a healer but from what he heard, the injured field commander was not happy with the temperamental weather and made his feelings known to anyone within range of his shouting voice. He was even less happy when he found out that the storms that had devastated his forces were the result of something¡¯s or someone¡¯s interference. His mood plummeted further when he was told that he could not join the force that would investigate the matter.

    What made him blow out a piece of the wall was being told that his wife had left Victory with her sister, taking their son with her.

    According to witnesses, he calmed down by nightfall with some time to think and a few drinks in him, thanking the ancestors his family was out of harm¡¯s way while the north battled strange circumstances. Lancecain sympathized with him. It had to be a shock to return from what had to be his worst campaign to find his ¡°pillar¡± was nowhere to be found. All of Victory knew how much the knight adored his beautiful wife. Few knew how much he relied on her.

    The second day was the opposite from the first. A tense silence claimed the fort, similar to the moment of stillness between two fighters before they engaged. Northerners were a people of action. When faced with problems, they faced them fearlessly and recklessly, throwing their full might in opposition of obstacles. A storm couldn¡¯t be defeated with strength or steel, what the people of Victory excelled at. There was nothing they could do. It left the people on edge, waiting for a sword they couldn¡¯t see to fall.

    Despite living with one of the members of the exploratory force, Lancecain was also left in the dark. That night, Sir Polluck went to dinner at the duke¡¯s estate. When he returned, he waved off his protege¡¯s questions. The duke didn¡¯t want the details of their expedition spread, for reasons Lancecain could only guess. He didn¡¯t ask questions, but he hoped the James family didn¡¯t insist on silence for long. Such a large issue was better not left to imagination.

    He needn¡¯t have worried. On the morning of the third day, rumors of the Devil¡¯s tantrum had faded, replaced by fresh rumors regarding the expedition. Unsurprisingly, no field commander had been selected to join the team. The north prized strength but leaders weren¡¯t necessarily the strongest. They certainly weren¡¯t specialized, which the mission called for. If possible, the team wouldn¡¯t be fighting at all. That didn¡¯t give priority to the commanders whose strength lay in leading armies to take down hordes of monsters.

    Along with Sir Polluck, the five-person team chosen for the expedition contained a scout from the Waking Beasts, a knight who spent more time researching monsters than fighting from Winter¡¯s Bounty, a knight from the Bleak Moons who would be leading the mission, and a healer attached to the Paradise Seekers. A team that involved all groups in the north, so they could all feel they were doing something to protect their home. The kind of subtlety that always surprised Lancecain coming from the James estate.

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    The duke presented as a blunt weapon but he could be flexible when the moment demanded it. Or, at the very least, he could listen to a more flexible advisor. A noble didn¡¯t take advice lightly but one of the duke¡¯s bannermen had survived their long years of campaigns. He¡¯d made the man his head servant and he was rumored to be a level-headed man. Someone who could think beyond tradition and reputation it seemed.

    The rumors also included the facts as they knew them. The spring storms had come early. The cause was most likely a sudden rise in the north¡¯s temperature. An artificial cause that had to be magic, whether a spell or something else. Wielded by someone or something that had yet to be identified. Far to the north, farther than any team had gone, as no one had spotted any sign of something that had to be quite noticeable to have such a profound effect.

    The mission would be arduous. Five men were tasked to travel further than any army had ever gone before. A small team wouldn¡¯t draw the attention of titans, but they would be more vulnerable to regular monsters, a very real, if not equivalent, danger. They didn¡¯t know what they were looking for, but it was most likely a powerful enemy they would have to dispatch if they wanted to end the collapse of the north.

    Marching through powerful storms, fighting countless monsters, slaying a great enemy. It was an impossible task. The start of a legend.

    What should have been depressing news had the fort in a positive uproar. The people of the north had learned to thrive on challenges and had cultivated a heroic spirit for generations. Their only complaints were that they weren¡¯t the ones saddled with what was almost guaranteed to be a death sentence.

    The wheels of war continued to turn and the tension over the fort turned to excitement. There wasn¡¯t much the orders could do to help the mission but there were plenty of things to take care of in the aftermath of the campaigns. Normally, that meant dismantling corpses, packing alchemical ingredients, and passing out coin. Along with preparing the list of casualties and preparing Last Rites for each army.

    With the armies having left behind their heavy spoils, most of the usual processes weren¡¯t necessary but that didn¡¯t lessen the work. Processing the dead was an enormous task given the losses. A distinction also had to be made between the confirmed dead and the missing, something complicated since no corpses had been brought back. Memory couldn¡¯t be trusted alone. Even the minds of knights used to losing comrades could be confused by too much death and too many days fearing for their lives in a storm.

    The Rites for all the armies would be a massive undertaking. It wasn¡¯t something that could be handled in a night. Closer to a week of nightly celebrations would be needed to properly honor their dead. Celebrations that would be bereft of their usual bluster with the north lacking supplies from the campaigns. The organizers would have their work cut out for them.

    With a plan in motion, Lancecain let his concerns over the situation rest. There was nothing he could do so he turned his attention to his own responsibilities, meager as they were. As a knight of the Polar Duelists, he had obligations to the order. The head of the order assigned tasks based on the strengths of the members. For Lancecain, that meant assisting the trainees, as he got along well with the younger men. The rest of his responsibilities were to himself, cultivating his own strength.

    By noon, the fort was buzzing with activity, purpose dispelling the dread of an omnipresent threat. By evening, the fort had come to a screeching halt. Thousands of gazes turned to the Bleak Peaks, including Lancecain, as the side of the mountain moved, accompanied by an echoing whuff. He watched in wide-eyed disbelief as centuries of snow and ice that had never moved slid down the steep slope in a wave that rapidly grew in size and speed.

    For a moment.

    Then he moved, running to his master¡¯s house.

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    A large part of a knight¡¯s training, Lancecain would hope for any order, was reacting calmly to problems. The large wave of cold death coming down the mountain was a big problem. Traveling through the pass that led beyond the mountains, he knew not to underestimate snow and ice. He¡¯d seen much smaller waves crush men. The wave heading for the fort was a hundred times bigger than the largest he¡¯d ever seen.

    It was going to fall on the westside of the fort but it was hard to estimate the full extent of the damage. It could graze the northside and a graze from something that big would be devastating. If there was even the smallest chance that the house could be caught in its path, he needed to grab a few essential items.

    Those being his sword, his armor that he threw on in a hurry, his master¡¯s spellbook, and the small amount of funds he kept in the kitchen. He also threw the bottles of Herbanacle in a bag, having paid far too much for the premium drinks to let them be crushed by a falling roof. When he burst out the front door, the faint whuff had become a loud rumble and the falling disaster was longer than the wall built into the mountain¡¯s side. He could hear people fleeing from the westside of the fort, heading for the center where knights were gathering.

    He moved behind the defensive line, his light affinity a poor fit to assist them. All he could do was watch as a large part of the fort was buried under ice, snow, and rock piled so high it obscured the towering walls. The wave was heading for them but the knights acted fast, tall walls of earth erupting from the ground to hold it back.

    ¡°What¡¯s the situation?¡±

    Lancecain looked over his shoulder as he heard the familiar voice. The crowd made way as the duke approached, two of his wives behind him, all dressed for battle. Not even the sound of the ice and stone slamming against the walls could break his stern expression. The same went for Eleanor, a native of the north. Kalise, his foreign bride, seemed more rattled. She wasn¡¯t panicking but her eyes were glued to the walls, the nature of the disaster unnerving her.

    An older knight from the Moons ran up to him. ¡°Icefall from the Peaks. It¡¯s as bad as you can imagine. We waited as long as we could before throwing up the walls.¡±

    ¡°Send someone to bring every working pair of hands from outside the fort in. Every single one. Once the mountain settles, we¡¯ll begin rescue efforts, with Waking Beast taking the lead. I want the Moon and Stars on the wall, clearing and defending it. The rest of us will be making paths. We need the roads clear.¡±

    ¡°As you command, my lord.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take command on the walls,¡± Eleanor said. ¡°Kalise, come with me.¡±

    ¡°Giving me orders now?¡± the barbarian complained but she moved closer to the other woman, showing her acceptance. ¡°You think we¡¯re going have to defend those walls from something?¡±

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    ¡°Creatures live on the mountain that just collapsed. I expect them to be annoyed.¡±

    ¡°Lance!¡±

    ¡°Master.¡± Lancecain looked up and hurried over to Sir Polluck. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the senior knight dressed in the white armor of the Duelists. He¡¯d forgotten to check for it in his haste. Calm in the face of trouble didn¡¯t mean infallible.

    Thankfully, his master had worn his armor out or it would mean days of digging the house free to retrieve it. Something that would be impossible before he was due to leave tomorrow. It wouldn¡¯t necessarily stop him from participating in the mission, but ill-fitting armor could be a dangerous liability. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you weren¡¯t caught in that.¡±

    ¡°That should be my line. I¡¯d bet the house wasn¡¯t spared.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t like the house anyway.¡±

    ¡°And you grabbed everything of importance, I assume.¡± He eyed the bag on Lancecain¡¯s shoulder. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    He jostled the bag. ¡°The booze and a little gold.¡±

    The senior knight shook his head. ¡°The priorities of a north man. Leave it to me to look after.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not helping with the efforts?¡± Lancecain asked while handing over the bag.

    ¡°I need to preserve my strength. We still leave in the morning.¡±

    Lancecain was surprised, but only for a moment. The icefall was a tragedy, but Victory had never allowed tragedy to stop it. More importantly, whatever was in the north had caused the disaster. If they didn¡¯t stop it, more tragedies would follow. The mission couldn¡¯t be delayed. ¡°Understood. Finish your preparations without worry.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± He laid a hand on Lancecain¡¯s shoulder and met his eyes. ¡°Do what you can¡­and remember it¡¯s all you can do.¡±

    The young knight nodded gravely, hearing the message behind the words. Despite all the men and women gathered with their abundance of expertise, there would be casualties. Not the usual loss of soldiers who prepared themselves for any outcome when they left the safety of the walls but the unexpected loss of innocent civilians who¡¯d died in their homes. It was a sobering thought, but Lancecain pushed it aside, focusing on the crisis.

    The sounds beyond their crude defense finally stopped. The duke ordered everyone to back away and the earth walls were dropped, the snow against them flowing forward with the obstacle removed. Immediately, several knights moved forward, Eleanor in the lead. Where she stepped, the loose snow turned into solid footholds of ice, letting her race across the uneven surface. Kalise took to the air, trailing behind her at a more sedate pace.

    The other knights also got to work. Members of the Waking Beast charged toward the buried part of the fort, moving slowly as they searched for signs of life. Some were more direct, the members diving headfirst white debris. Occasionally, they would let out a cry and knights would rush to their aid.

    Lancecain joined the majority of knights in clearing the road. The water casters made the most impact, moving snow and ice by the wagonload. The wind casters were nearly as useful. The earth casters formed spades and Lancecain joined the fire casters and civilians wielding them. They focused on clearing a path, piling the snow along the sides and compacting it until it was passable. The duke oversaw the operations, a silent pillar of strength.

    A group of Moons stood aside, standing with tense spines and none of the other knights removed their armor or weapons. As they worked diligently, they all waited for the proverbial arrow to hit its target. They all knew it wasn¡¯t the end.

    After they¡¯d been working for several minutes, the first screech sounded. Lancecain looked toward the mountain as more followed it. He recognized the cry of doomhawks but he¡¯d never heard so many of them. There had to be hundreds, all screaming at once. Then they took to the sky. So many that they cast a shadow over Victory, their white bodies obscuring the gray sky as they vacated their nests.

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    Lancecain had participated in campaigns since he was fourteen. He hadn¡¯t done much fighting the first year, merely serving as an extra pair of hands to be lent to whoever needed them as he accompanied the army from Winter¡¯s Bounty along with his master. Since, he had left the walls of Victory many times with many armies of different sizes. He¡¯d seen, dismantled, and fought every monster the north had to offer, he thought.

    The doomhawks were the most common of those monsters. Every winter, as the knights of the north marched along the path between the Bleak Peaks, the flock emerged from their nests. They weren¡¯t a threat unless an army grew complacent but that didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t a challenge.

    There were seasons when the elders, the larger, more intelligent of the flock, joined the assault, directing their smaller compatriots with shrill cries. There were also more of them during those times. Defending against two hundred loosely coordinated monsters was infinitely more difficult than about a hundred recklessly diving birds driven half-mad from hunger.

    Remembering his roughest encounters with the maneaters, he paled seeing numbers a hundred times the size of the largest flock he¡¯d ever seen. There was a monster for every knight, it seemed, and they were not distracted with rescue efforts. Worse, they weren¡¯t the desperate runts that attacked to survive the winter. Most of those circling above were what they thought of as elders, bigger and stronger variants.

    Then there were the monsters among them.

    Flying above the rest were doomhawks that Lancecain swore were as large as the duke¡¯s estate, with wingspans five times as long as the elders¡¯. Of the thousands of birds, there were only a handful of the beasts, but he could hear them over the growing noise, their deeper voices reverberating in his chest. If they dove on the fort, especially the civilians¡­the knights of Victory were capable but not that capable.

    The duke agreed as his next words ordered the evacuation of all civilians. Moons urged them to throw down their spades and rushed them toward their order¡¯s building. Lancecain also dug his tool into the snow and gripped his sword. The monsters of the north weren¡¯t known for being peaceful. He bet it would come to a fight and it would be a gruesome one.

    ¡°I want fifty knights with ranged capabilities on the walls with another two dozen to defend them,¡± the duke continued to order. ¡°Don¡¯t fire until the first bird dives. Give the Duelists priority command, we¡¯re going to need them to bring down the big ones.¡± He paused and his next command was spoken slowly and in a strained voice. ¡°Clear a path and open the south gate. Prepare for an evacuation of the fort. Go.¡±

    ¡°Right away, my lord!¡± A Bleak Moon knight shouted before running off.

    Lancecain stared at the duke with disbelief. Utter disbelief. He never thought he would ever hear a James prepare to abandon Fort Victory. It was incredible. But, in the duke¡¯s defense, so was the horde of monsters blotting out the sky. He supposed it wasn¡¯t the time for suicidal fanaticism but the words drove home the severity of the situation.

    ¡°Lancecain.¡±

    He jumped, surprised to hear the duke call his name. He strode forward as the cold blue eyes turned to him. ¡°What are your orders, my lord?¡±

    ¡°Organize the trainees and take them to the Moons¡¯ building. Your job will be defending the civilians along with the seniors. Keep an eye on the battle. The old dogs are too stubborn, no matter the circumstances. If you see the battle taking a turn for the worst, they will listen to you.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t follow my orders.¡± Lancecain understood his popularity. He enjoyed the attention, as who wouldn¡¯t, but not to stroke his ego. A good reputation bred trust and trust was essential for a Duelist. Beyond the walls, there were no laws, only the honor of men. He doubted an army he fought with would ever abandon him, but people didn¡¯t risk their lives for unpleasant people.

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    Trust also built loyalty. He didn¡¯t know where his future would lead but being a field commander wasn¡¯t beyond the realm of possibility. If so, he didn¡¯t want to be like Zachariah, who¡¯d built an army with the resources of the James family, but more like the Northern Devil, who¡¯d built his through his powerful charisma.

    ¡°No.¡± They both understood that the old knights would rather die where they stood than retreat from their home under assault from monsters. ¡°But they will cover your back as you guide the civilians out.¡± The duke speared him with an intense gaze. ¡°I¡¯m giving you this duty because you understand that there is honor to be found in other places than death.¡±

    In other words, he knew Lancecain wouldn¡¯t throw his life away to prove himself. He had nothing to prove. His master had taken him in the moment his light affinity had been discovered and since, his value to Victory was clearly defined. The same couldn¡¯t be said for the sons of servants and smiths. Someone from more humble origins would rather risk death than risk the appearance of shamefully running from the enemy, especially when the enemy was in their home.

    ¡°Can you do this?¡±

    ¡°I can.¡±

    ¡°My lord!¡±

    Lancecain turned as a servant with silver hair sprinted toward them. In his hands, he carried several weapons. He handed over a spear to the duke, a better choice than the sword at his waist.

    ¡°My wives are on the wall. My son¡ª"

    ¡°He is insisting on joining the fight.¡±

    The duke frowned the barest amount. ¡°He hasn¡¯t fully recovered from his wounds.¡± He¡¯d been injured during his campaign but the wounds weren¡¯t severe enough to warrant the attention of a healer. They were bad enough to affect his performance and it was a dangerous thing to join such a large battle when not in peak condition.

    ¡°He is a James, my lord. That won¡¯t stop him.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Tell him to go the Moon¡¯s building. He will join the defense of the civilians.¡± The duke gave Lancecain a discrete look that he easily read. Should things go wrong, it would be up to him to convince Zachariah to retreat as well. A job he didn¡¯t look forward to. No one had more to prove than the duke¡¯s eldest.

    ¡°Right¡ª"

    What he was going to say next was cut off by a powerful screech. Lancecain¡¯s hands snapped to his ears but it did nothing to stave off the pain caused by the horrible sound. The agony lasted for moments that stretched on for an eternity. When it finally ended, his ears still ached from the abuse. Not even the mountain was spared, a second, smaller icefall tumbling down its side.

    He vaguely heard shouts telling the members of Waking Beast in the midst of rescue efforts to retreat from its path. Along the wall, knights scattered.

    Lancecain barely noticed, his attention absorbed by the source of the disturbance.

    Above, the circling birds parted, moving to fly around the outskirts of the fort. The conspicuous movement drew the young knight¡¯s eyes to the sky so he saw every moment as the titan emerged.

    The meagre light of the morning was blocked a moment after it was unblocked by the scattering doomhawks, casting a deeper shadow over the knights. A dark shape pierced the screen of gray clouds. As more of it emerged, Lancecain realized it was the tip of a wing. Just the tip.

    Next came its head. Even from the great distance, Lancecain guessed its hooked beak was large enough to swallow a medium-sized titan with room to spare, attached to a long, sinuous neck. White feathers crowned its head and its six glowing blue eyes were bright as his beacon spell against the darker feathers of its face. Its enormous body was followed by three colorful, feathered tails, shades of blue and purple mixed with the same white feathers on its head.

    ¡°SKREEEEEEEE!!!¡±

    The bird screeched as it threw out its wings. Lancecain couldn¡¯t say for sure but it looked like they stretched from one end of the fort to the other. The sight was so shocking, he forgot the pain of its cry. It was not a titan. He wasn¡¯t even sure he could call it something as simple as a monster. A living mountain hovered above them and the air seemed to tremble with its presence.

    ¡°Bulliard!¡± The duke¡¯s shout snapped Lancecain and the old servant out of their shock. ¡°Get those spears to the wall and then retreat to the Moon¡¯s base!¡±

    The old servant frowned but, with another glance at the force of nature staring down disdainfully at the members of the fort, he didn¡¯t argue, dashing toward the walls at a surprising speed.

    ¡°Lancecain. Get moving!¡±

    He hesitated, unable to take his eyes off the creature. ¡°My lord¡­¡± It felt ridiculous running off to defend civilians with what felt like the end of Victory readying itself to attack. He doubted he could defend anything the creature had a mind to destroy. On the other hand, if he stayed, he felt somewhat confident in removing one of its large feathers. A slightly less pointless gesture. ¡°What¡­what is¡­¡±

    ¡°It seems one of the Lords has come down from its throne.¡±

    Lancecain gulped. If that was one of the enemies the founders of Victory had sworn to triumph over, they were braver and more insane than he ever thought. The thing above him wasn¡¯t something men fought. It was something they worshipped.

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    The Lord, if the duke¡¯s suspicion was correct, screeched and slowly flapped its large wings. Lancecain grimaced as he saw a wall of snow and ice coming toward him, swallowing everything in its wake. It was too large to dodge. All he could do was grit his teeth and hold his arms before his face for whatever meagre protection they could offer. He shut his eyes but the cold and force he expected never came.

    ¡°Lancecain.¡±

    He opened his eyes to find the duke standing before him, sword drawn. Snow and ice were piled on either side of them, the wall of winter having parted before the ruler of the north. Lancecain felt a surge of pride and warmth when he realized the duke had protected him. ¡°Go. Wait for the us to distract the birds before you evacuate.¡±

    ¡°I can help.¡±

    ¡°This is a fight for seniors. Masters, at minimum.¡± Lancecain was skilled but he was far from a master. ¡°If you can, wait for a lull in the enemy¡¯s movements. Do not cross the fort directly, you will be easy targets. Move to the wall and follow it to the south gate.¡±

    ¡°¡­understood, my lord.¡±

    Above them, the Lord screeched. Lancecain tensed, bracing himself for an attack, but it never came. With another powerful flap of its wings that stirred the snow, it launched itself into the air, nearly breaching the clouds. Another flap and it soared over Victory, heading north. The young knight¡¯s legs shook with powerful relief as he watched the enormous manabeast disappear, becoming certain as the distance between them widened that they would not have to fight the monstrosity.

    ¡°It¡¯s too early to relax!¡±

    The admonishment brought Lancecain back to his senses. The Lord might have flown off but there were still thousands of angry doomhawks circling above them, a dire threat on their own. Remembering he¡¯d been given orders, Lancecain turned and ran, sprinting for the Bleak Moons¡¯ base.

    He arrived to find several knights standing in a crescent facing the mountain and many more positioned on the building¡¯s roof. He was surprised to find Thomas standing amidst the ground forces, his light blue armor standing out among the darker knights surrounding him. A heavy frown made the lines in his face more prominent and he stood with crossed arms, a simple but hefty spear resting in the crook of his arm.

    The old commander noticed him at the same time and waved him over. ¡°Lance. What¡¯re you doing here? Should be on the wall, looking to take down one of those fat elders circling around up there.¡±

    ¡°The duke determined I would better serve fighting alongside the trainees.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I¡¯ve got most of them with the civilians. No use in them dying in a fight without a proper chance. The ones that can cast a decent spell are on the roof.¡± He tilted his head, letting out a huff of breath. ¡°Ancestors know we¡¯re going to need every drop of mana we can get. One way or another, we¡¯re not letting a bunch of arrogant flying rats run us out of our own home. Are we?¡±

    The knights around him let out a war cry that was quickly taken up by the others on the building¡¯s roof. Lancecain grinned. Only the knights of the north could sound so enthused when in a completely hopeless situation. He decided then not to mention that he was also here to lead the retreat.

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    They would need every bit of morale they could get as well. He understood that the duke was just trying to save lives, but it could be mistaken as a lack of faith in his forces. The northerners were hardy, but they were still human. It would be strange if no one fled in the face of overwhelmingly negative odds.

    ¡°If you permit it, I would like to join the ground forces.¡± His spells were strong, stronger than corresponding ones from weaker basic affinities, but the light affinity was not without its weaknesses. It had more power and precision than the fire affinity, but his spells became intensely more expensive in mana the larger the distance variable. Ridiculously so. It was the main reason his master¡¯s penultimate spell involved making himself a powerful projectile rather than launching a beam of light. Lancecain was at his most effective within the range of his sword.

    ¡°Granted but keep to the back. I¡¯m too old to defend myself against your master if I lose you and he¡¯s too old to look for another heir. Can you imagine him trying to poach the James girl?¡± The old man chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t think her wife would take that kindly. Hah! Ancestors. Wife marrying a wife. Thought I¡¯d seen it all but life still has a few surprises for me. To think I might get my chance to fight a legendary monster like a Lord. No better way to go.¡±

    ¡°The Lord has departed.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to think more than that if you want to be a field commander someday, boy. When the beast finishes its business, it¡¯ll be back. Maybe it¡¯ll be hungry. If so, we¡¯ve got a fort full of tasty snacks. Or maybe it¡¯ll just be pissed off. Or annoyed. Manabeasts don¡¯t need good reasons to attack people. Something that powerful doesn¡¯t even need to acknowledge us to destroy us. That thing looks like it can cause a storm strong enough to swallow the lot of us if it sneezes.

    ¡°Or, if you really want to imagine a fun scenario, imagine what happens if the thing doesn¡¯t come back. When a territory is abandoned, something comes to claim it. One Lord is bad. Being caught in the middle of a war between several as they try to claim another peak? Dealing with the losers and their lackeys as they¡¯re driven from the mountains? We¡¯ll be drowning in monsters. Mark my words, boy. This shitfest is just the start.¡±

    It was a harrowing thought. One that made Lancecain think a simple evacuation might not be enough. Thomas¡¯ words made sense. Worse, Lancecain could see the crisis continuing to escalate.

    If so, Victory alone wouldn¡¯t be enough to hold back the monsters. They¡¯d need all of humanity to cooperate, something much easier said than done. Harvest wasn¡¯t the united force it used to be in the time following the Great War. By the time the crown was convinced of the threat, the north would be overrun and they¡¯d have a terrible time trying to reclaim it.

    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s starting!¡±

    Near the western wall, the screeching of flock reached a crescendo and the first of them dived. As usual, the smallest were the first, forced to sacrifice themselves or face the stronger members of the flock. The knights on the wall were ready. Fire met them, knocking them out of the air and sending them careening into the nearest snowbanks.

    ¡°Look alive men!¡± Thomas shouted, his voice carrying. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the other orders teach you, but I better not see veteran knights wasting good mana on a bunch of starving chickens. You¡¯ve got blades, I want to see you bastards using them! At least until the big ones come down for a bite.¡±

    Lancecain shouted an affirmative along with the rest of the knights and put a hand on the hilt of his sword.

    The fighting intensified. As more birds dived, magic filled the air. Spells from all four basic affinities decimated the flock. Corpses rained from the sky like falling snow. Soon, they¡¯d present obstacles to the knights on the ground. Lancecain was already lamenting having to fight while leaping over corpses, especially since Thomas wanted them to preserve mana. The longer the fight dragged on, the more strenuous it would become.

    ¡°Time for us to join the fun!¡±

    Thomas took his spear in hand and Lancecain tensed as the first enemies dove toward them.

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    The doomhawks weren¡¯t the worst the north had to offer. Compared to titans, they were relatively weak. Their greatest advantage was their numbers. Their second, their large bodies. Their feathers didn¡¯t defend against magic and couldn¡¯t deflect blades. Their talons were sharp and powerful enough to hold onto struggling prey as they lifted them into the air, but they couldn¡¯t fight worth a damn. Their hunting strategies relied on ambushing prey, as they couldn¡¯t stop anything that put up a struggle.

    Lancecain didn¡¯t have much to do as the first birds reached their defensive line. The Bleak Moons were competent. Even given the restriction of not using magic, they still managed to swiftly dispatch the hawks that came within striking range. Those not engaged in active combat worked together to shift the corpses to the side. Watching them, Lancecain recalled Lourianne Tome dashing about the battlefield during their campaign, casually tossing around the bodies of the enormous birds.

    Lancecain had undergone frequent work under one of the best melders in the north since he was a young man, magic guiding him into obtaining a prime physique, and he still couldn¡¯t accomplish such a feat. Birds were generally lighter than their frames would suggest but even the smallest doomhawk weighed as much as a horse and a half. Their wings also made them unwieldly to handle.

    Far from tossing them into wagons with an ease that could keep up with the slaughtering pace of a full army, the most Lancecain could manage was pushing their bodies off to the side and that was with a knight or two helping him. The more magic was thrown, the more agitated the flock became, and the more angry birds assaulted the knights.

    When two dozen came at them at once, Lancecain had to forsake his efforts to join the assault. It was a chaotic battlefield, more so than he was used to. His footing was uncertain while stepping around, and sometimes onto, corpses. Thankfully, his targets were large and not very agile. If he dodged their grasping talons, it was a simple matter to cut into their wings. A large enough wound would send them crashing to the ground, where they would be impaled by multiple weapons, ending their life in moments.

    But, as more enemies dove at them and the corpses became closer to obstacles rather than hindrances, Lancecain found it difficult to swing his sword. Thomas finally gave the order to use magic and the forces atop the building let loose. The pressure was eased as the birds were caught off guard, giving the ground forces a precious reprieve. They worked together to push away the corpses, desperately making space.

    The constant exertion was exhausting but Lancecain didn¡¯t pause, readying himself for the next wave. To his surprise, it didn¡¯t come. He felt a wave of dread mixed with a strong dose of frustration when he looked up to find, despite having slain at least a hundred of the birds on their own, they hadn¡¯t even made a dent in the flock. Thousands still circled above them.

    ¡°Don¡¯t relax yet,¡± Thomas shouted. He was a frightening visage, his armor worn armor splattered with blood as she threw off viscera from his spear. ¡°We just killed off the scrawny ones. Now the flock is deciding who the next sacrifices are going to be.¡±

    It made sense. Normally, the armies were assaulted by the desperate led by a handful of elder doomhawks. There was no question of leadership. Now, there were hundreds of elders. From them, new sacrifices had to be selected and they squawked incessantly as they established the new pecking order.

    ¡°Now would be a good time evacuate the civilians.¡±

    Lancecain flinched. The commander had a point but he could still swing his sword and his mana core was full. Retreat wasn¡¯t on his mind but Thomas¡¯ words brought him back from the battle lust.

    Being sent away didn¡¯t feel good but the old man was right. There wouldn¡¯t be a better time to get the civilians to safety. If the elders attacked, never mind the larger birds circling above them, he had no faith the knights could defend them.

    At their size, crashing into the building would topple it, crushing everyone inside. He¡¯d heard stories that some of the largest doomhawks in the history of the campaigns could even use magic. If one percent of them had such capabilities, that meant at least a hundred casters would be throwing spells back at them.

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    ¡°¡­then I¡¯ll be counting on you to cover us.¡± The duke believed in his rational mind. Lancecain wouldn¡¯t fail him nor the civilians counting on the orders to lead them through the crisis.

    ¡°You do your master and your legacy proud.¡±

    The words eased some of the young knight¡¯s guilt as he sprinted toward the building. Inside, the most vulnerable members of the fort were gathered on the main floor. Mothers holding onto their children. Gray-haired seniors leaning on canes or seated in chairs along the wall. Servants with no talent or stomach for war. Last, the younger trainees, too inexperienced to fight on the frontline, surrounded them, ready to defend them in the unlikely event the building was breached.

    Most of them wouldn¡¯t survive an encounter with the weakest doomhawk. The trainees could handle a few but they wouldn¡¯t come out of the assault Lancecain had just endured unscathed. They wouldn¡¯t stand a chance against the next wave. However, despite their lack of ability, none of them were panicking.

    Death could descend at any moment. It was too much to ask them not to show any fear, especially from the children, but all their gazes were resolute. Ready for whatever came next. It was a sight that was as awe-inspiring as knights standing up to impossible odds. It made him proud to be a knight of Victory and reaffirmed his love for his home.

    ¡°I need everyone¡¯s attention.¡± At once, the quiet mutterings throughout the room ended and all eyes turned to him.

    ¡°There are more people in the other rooms, Lance,¡± one of the trainees said softly.

    ¡°Run and grab them. Pack everyone close, we don¡¯t have time for me to repeat this multiple times.¡±

    The trainee nodded. Waving over three others, they moved through the crowd as quickly as they could. His helper barely took a minute to return, nodding at him to say he¡¯d completed his task.

    Lancecain raised his voice. ¡°You¡¯re all aware that a large horde of monsters is currently assaulting the fort. The fight is intensifying. Our knights can¡¯t fight and guarantee your protection so we will evacuate. There is no time to grab anything you¡¯ve left, find anyone you¡¯ve lost, and no time to hesitate. We¡¯re going, now, and we don¡¯t stop. Keep up, keep an eye on whoever¡¯s beside you, and keep calm.

    ¡°Trainees, break into three groups. I want those under sixteen behind me.¡± They needed the reassurance of someone to follow the most, lacking both the strength and training for him to trust them out of his sight. ¡°We march five abreast and the Moons will cover the sides.¡±

    Not only did the official order of Victory always have the most recruits, they tended to be the most capable in terms of teamwork. They were the best hope for defending the civilians if they were attacked. ¡°Be ready to support the rear if necessary. The rest of you, bring up the rear. Your job is to help the seniors and call out any threats. Understood?¡±

    Several affirmative shouts answered him and the crowd began to move. The civilians weren¡¯t as fast as the trainees, especially the seniors, but they were resolute. In minutes, they marched out of the building, moving quickly. Thankfully, the icefall hadn¡¯t reached far enough to make the walk more difficult. A quick glance to the sky showed that the doomhawks hadn¡¯t decided on their new hierarchy. The knights withheld their attacks, taking every moment of the valuable rest.

    Lancecain didn¡¯t waste the opportunity, hurrying the crowd of hundreds through the fort. As he¡¯d discussed with the duke, they didn¡¯t head straight for the exit, instead going for the eastern wall and following it to the gate. Knights on the wall must have seen their approach because once they were close, the gate was raised. They didn¡¯t waste a moment going through it.

    Lancecain stood to the side, shepherding the civilians toward the order of the Polar Duelists. His ¡°flock¡± was halfway through when the screeching started, quickly reaching a deafening crescendo. His stomach knotted with dread as he looked to the sky but he kept his voice level, encouraging the people to keep moving while he watched for the first attack. He had no doubt that they were very visible targets, even if the horde of monsters were concentrated by the western wall. It¡¯d be too easy for a handful to break away and cause significant casualties.

    They never got the chance.

    Before the first bird could dive, there was a brilliant flash of purple light, accompanied by a rumble that felt like someone had hit a drum the size of Peaks. Lancecain shut his eyes the moment he saw it, but dark spots still polluted his vision. While rapidly blinking them away, he saw doomhawks rain from the sky, the attack devastating the crowded horde.

    They didn¡¯t waste any more time debating who would go first. Doomhawks dived for the western wall where the spell originated. They were answered by a lot more magic, including another flash of purple death. It tore through the flock of monstrous birds, hitting one of the leaders circling above. It screeched, its shrill voice a pale imitation of the Lord but still drawing a wince from the young knight.

    Lancecain turned away. The duke was right. That was not a fight for him. Not yet.

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    The Order of the Polar Duelists was much smaller than the building for the Bleaks Moons. What was a tight fit before became uncomfortably cramped as Lancecain directed his charges inside. No one was happy but they understood.

    Once they were settled, Lancecain climbed onto the roof to watch what he could of the battle taking place in the distance. He couldn¡¯t make out many details. Perhaps that was a blessing. With the horror hidden from him, the deadly magic on display could be described as beautiful, the cries of the doomhawks no different than the cries of harmless birds that woke southerners.

    He wouldn¡¯t deceive himself about the truth of the situation but keeping it far from his mind, not seeing his comrades being torn apart or dropped from great heights, allowed him to keep his calm and follow his orders.

    He watched and he waited. Whether for the end of the battle or a call to join it, he didn¡¯t know. He¡¯d already determined there was no place for him in the epic struggle taking place. He could take down several doomhawks, even the elder variants, but the light affinity, as he used it, wasn¡¯t good against armies. Five or six extra corpses wouldn¡¯t make much of a difference.

    On the contrary, if a small force broke away, his presence could be the difference between struggle and tragedy. Better to leave the bulk of the fighting to knights with affinities better suited for the task, who¡¯d spent years perfecting the art of taking down the most enemies with the least amount of mana.

    He''d be better off turning away and finding something useful to do but the storm of violence held him transfixed. He wasn¡¯t the only one. Despite many warnings, civilians stood in doorways and peered out of narrow windows at the eye-catching displays of destruction.

    The people of Victory lived alongside violence. It supported them. Defined them. Normally, a fight on the scale of a small war would have the people¡¯s blood boiling¡­but this was different. Their knights weren¡¯t fighting on the battlefield inherited by their ancestors. They were desperately defending their homes from invaders.

    Not even their bloodthirsty culture could see such a battle as anything other than worrying. Perhaps it was childish, but the potential consequences took the ¡°fun¡± out of the latest chapter in their eternal war. The northern people had learned to live with their children not coming home but the thought of their homes being destroyed by stray spells and crushed under monster corpses filled them with trepidation.

    Victory took great pride in its walls and its traditions. Beyond their walls was a frozen hellscape but they felt safe in their home. Now, their home hung in the balance. It was being destroyed with each passing moment. It was a serious blow, one Lancecain wasn¡¯t sure they would ever recover from.

    If it were any other year, he wouldn¡¯t be nearly as worried. The insult would ignite their fighting spirit. The worse consequence would be more young men and women taking up arms the next year. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t any other year. It was the worst year the north had experienced in generations.

    The betrayal of Khan had cracked the people¡¯s faith. Not only because a member of the James, their idols, had been turned against them but it showed that there were worse faiths than death awaiting them. They were accustomed to death but the possibility of having one¡¯s mind probed and twisted would give pause to even the bravest knight.

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    They had also suffered the worst casualty rates from the campaign since the founding of the fort. The armies had been devastated and the current catastrophe would only cut deeper into their numbers. He was confident that they would take down a dozen birds for each knight that fell. With thousands of enemies circling over their home, the math didn¡¯t add up in their favor. The way things looked, they wouldn¡¯t have enough abled bodies to launch the campaigns next year. Maybe not for a few years, something Victory couldn¡¯t afford.

    The battle raged for hours. Eventually, the grand displays of magic relented. Lancecain could easily imagine the flow of battle as the diving birds switched from primarily targeting the western wall to striking all over the fort. Without their magic, the knights had to result to melee and would spread out to use buildings as cover.

    In an empty field where the hawks could swarm a fighter, even a senior knight would be overwhelmed in minutes. However, a trainee could take down a dozen or two if they fought in the shadow of proper cover, the large monsters awkward when trying to fight around larger obstacles.

    If they fought well, Lancecain figured they could fight for hours but he dreaded the battle carrying on into the night. Even the impressive stamina of northern warriors would flag after hours of swinging swords and spears. Swinging said weapons also got a lot more difficult without proper vision. Worse, the longer they fought, the less likely the buildings giving them an advantageous battlefield would remain intact.

    The moment the sun set, the battle was as good as over.

    As the gloomy sky grew darker, signaling the onset of a long night, a familiar screech reached his ears. He was contemplating the logistics of moving the civilians further away under the cover of night when he heard it. He jumped to his feet, eyes widening as he saw the majestic figure of the Lord flying over Victory, unmistakable despite the distance.

    The battle came to an immediate halt, no creature daring to disturb the wild majesty as it hovered over the tall walls. Each beat of its powerful wings stirred the snow around it. The white powder swirled into a funnel that slowly reached toward it, as if the land itself was under the creature¡¯s sway.

    Lancecain felt a crushing dread in his chest as he imagined being in the middle of, what the knights must have thought to be, a sudden storm that stole their vision and pelted them with debris as they waited for an unimaginably powerful enemy to launch an attack.

    But the Lord didn¡¯t attack. With one last powerful beat of its wings, it soared into the sky, heading for the mountain it had descended from. As it disappeared beyond the clouds, the funnel of snow fell, the storm quelled before it could truly begin.

    The circling doomhawks, that had waited in silence, resumed their shrieks. However, they followed the path of their ruler. The cloud of death shrouding the fort disappeared as they flew back to their nests.

    Lancecain watched with wide eyes as the monsters retreated. He had just been contemplating the end of Victory and now it was over. They hadn¡¯t even needed to fight their way out of the crisis.

    Lancecain thought that the Lord would be the most amazing thing he¡¯d see in his life. Every child was taught about the monsters that lived at the peak of the mountains no man had ever climbed but they hadn¡¯t been spotted since the founding of the kingdom. Many scholars had suggested the original manabeasts that had beaten the first northerners had already died and been replaced by weaker descendants, usually when someone wanted to send an expeditionary force up the Peaks. They were legends and Lancecain had seen one.

    And in the same day, he had seen something even more incredible. Something impossible. The Lord, the enemy of humanity according to his ancestors, hadn¡¯t thrown a single spell. He had no doubts it could have annihilated them all but it returned to its home peacefully. It spared them.

    The impossible had happened. The north had shown mercy.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-14

    Lancecain waited for several minutes to be sure that the monsters¡¯ retreat was real. He didn¡¯t think the birds would make a tactical retreat to lure out the more vulnerable members of the fort before resuming their assault but he wouldn¡¯t be the one to underestimate a manabeast of legend. Once he was sure the battle was over, he gathered a group of young knights from the Duelists and sprinted back to the fort, eager to help.

    He arrived to find no one guarding the gate. He borrowed one of the young knight¡¯s spear and slammed the butt of it against the door. The resulting ring was loud enough to carry to the top of the wall, he was sure of it, but no one opened the gate. Lancecain frowned. He understood things had to be dire within the walls but he didn¡¯t think they were so bad no one was available to open a door.

    After knocking one more time, Lancecain turned his group around. Whatever was happening, the knights didn¡¯t need him as a distraction. The people inside the fort were in the most dire circumstances but that didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t other ways to help. He had led hundreds of civilians from the fort. They needed a place to sleep, blankets to keep them warm, and food for the night. With every order¡¯s resources depleted, that was a tough ask.

    He sent messengers to the other orders, looking for assistance. Instead, he found more civilians. He wasn¡¯t the only tasked with escorting non-combatants out of danger. He was grateful that so many had escaped the battlefield but it left them with many mouths to feed.

    Thankfully, the people of the north were used to banding together under trying circumstances. Private stocks were raided, furs gathered from closets, and cellars raided for drink to calm the restless spirits of those with weaker wills. It wouldn¡¯t be a comfortable night but Lancecain was satisfied that no one would freeze or go hungry. He arranged for a nightwatch, still unwilling to believe that the crisis had come to such a peaceful end, before settling down for the night, leaning against a wall with his armor on and his sword beside him.

    It was a long night of fitful rest. Lancecain never relaxed into a deep sleep and his body ached from too many hours sitting on the floor but he rose at first light. He was seeing to breakfast and devising a plan for the day when one of the trainees ran up to him, looking excited.

    ¡°Lance, some Moons are coming toward us with a wagon!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t go yelling that around,¡± he said immediately. The last thing he needed was the civilians mobbing the knights looking for answers. ¡°I¡¯ll go meet with them. Get a dismantling team together and tell the cooks we got them some meat for breakfast.¡±

    Given the fighting, knights pulling a wagon could only mean they were transporting corpses. The Polar Duelists weren¡¯t as adept at taking apart monsters as Winter¡¯s Bounty but every order taught their members how to harvest the monsters the north depended on for their survival and livelihood.

    He ran out to the road. True to the trainee¡¯s words, a contingent of five knights approached pulling a wagon behind them. As expected, he spotted the wing of a doomhawk sticking over the side. ¡°Good to see you,¡± he called out, taking the hand of the knight in the lead. ¡°The cooks are looking forward to seeing those birds.¡±

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    ¡°After yesterday, I wouldn¡¯t mind cutting up a few of them myself.¡± He waved for the others to go ahead, Lancecain exchanging solemn nods with the other men as they passed. ¡°There¡¯s plenty more where that came from but the fort is hectic.¡±

    ¡°Is it bad?¡±

    ¡°Worse than what you¡¯re thinking. The fight was¡­intense. We¡¯ve lost too much this year. Too many people. Too many homes.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Doubt we could have recovered in a year but we don¡¯t have that long.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°The ancestors blessed us when the Lord retreated with its servants but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that something is still going on there. We can¡¯t wait until another Lord leaves its nest to investigate. The team selected to investigate it has already left. Your master asked me to pass on a message. Said he trusted you to know what to do.¡±

    Lancecain would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn¡¯t a little disappointed his master had left without saying a goodbye but he understood. ¡°Does the duke think the problem persists? The Lord returned.¡± He didn¡¯t think it was too far a leap in logic to assume that whatever was causing the disturbance beyond their walls had disturbed the Lord. Presumably, it wouldn¡¯t have returned unless the disturbance was gone.

    ¡°It¡¯s not something we can leave to assumptions. If we¡¯re lucky, the team will be back in a couple of weeks with no news. If not¡­there has been talk of abandoning the fort.¡±

    Lancecain balked at the thought. From a tactical perspective, it made perfect sense. Their forces were devastated and their resources depleted. The king had never dared to think of marching an army against Victory, no matter how unruly they got, because of their tall walls but those meant nothing when their enemies came from the mountain they were built into. They were outnumbered. They were tired. They had the burdens that were the noncombatants to consider.

    An evacuation wasn¡¯t just a smart option. Without confirmation that the disturbance had been neutralized or a guarantee that the birds would stay in their nests, it was the only option. The duke had already conceded as much having ordered Lancecain and others to lead the most vulnerable members of the fort outside. ¡°Where would we go?¡±

    ¡°The James are a ducal family. Their concern is Victory, as it should be, but they have governance of the surrounding territory. Villages and towns.¡±

    ¡°I doubt they have the infrastructure to support a few thousand unexpected guests for an indefinite time.¡±

    ¡°So do I but they have free land. We¡¯d have to break into smaller groups to not overwhelm any one area and get comfortable in tents but it¡¯s doable. The one blessing of those damn birds attacking is that we¡¯ll have more than enough food once they¡¯re processed. No one will starve so they just need a safe place to lay their heads.¡±

    The knight scoffed. ¡°The decision¡¯s beyond me though. Something for the duke and the commanders to decide. Personally, I¡¯d rather be dead and buried than leave our home to a bunch of monsters.¡±

    Therein lay the problem. Retreat would be the smart option but he couldn¡¯t imagine any knight being happy with it. He doubted very many would accept it, ordered by the venerated Duke James or not. But, same as the knight, the decision was beyond him. So many things were beyond him that Lancecain was starting to feel useless. ¡°How goes the recovery efforts?¡±

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any. Anyone buried under the icefall is gone and there¡¯s too much to dig through. A week working nonstop and we wouldn¡¯t make a dent in the mess. Besides, all the healers have drained themselves patching together the injured from the battle.¡±

    Again, nothing for him to do. ¡°Did the duke give us any orders?¡±

    ¡°No. Just keep an eye on the civilians for now. It won¡¯t take long to make a decision and if we stay, we¡¯re going to need all the able hands we can get.¡±

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-15

    The hours passed slowly as Lancecain lingered outside the walls of Victory.

    Though young, Lancecain was a full-fledged knight. That meant he technicality had the same authority as the man that told him to stay away from the fort and could have ignored the informal order. However, there was an unspoken hierarchy based on seniority in the north. Besides that, he understood being told to stay put. More bodies usually equated to more chaos. An emergency wasn¡¯t the time for power games or selfishness.

    Besides, the civilians still needed him. In the midst of the crisis, they were understanding but the danger had passed. They were eager to check on their homes and loved ones. Failing that, they were reluctant to spend another night cramped and cowering in fear.

    Technically, Lancecain didn¡¯t have power over them but again, there were unspoken rules regarding the authority of knights, especially in emergencies. He was also the one who led them to safety. They would listen to him and he knew that it was better for everyone if he kept them out of the fort. Hundreds of bodies swarming the battlefield during a cleanup wouldn¡¯t do anyone any favors, no matter the people¡¯s good intentions.

    The duke had left them in his care. They were his responsibility and Lancecain didn¡¯t intend to shirk it.

    It took a considerable amount of reasoning and cajoling to get the irritable civilians to stay put. He knew he¡¯d have no hope of controlling anything if they saw their home in ruins. Thankfully, they had some patience to spare. They were worried about their lives and livelihood but they understood that their presence would be a burden. That didn¡¯t mean they liked the situation.

    Since idle hands made trouble, he scrambled to find them things to do. For the mothers and children, he organized impromptu lessons. Specifically, stories about the Lords of the Peaks and legends surrounding them. He doubted little else would hold their attentions with the majesty of the powerful manabeast fresh in their impressionable minds.

    The adults, comprised mainly of servants, he turned to preparing for the night. He didn¡¯t want another mad scramble to get everyone comfortable. With dozens of hands helping, other rooms could be cleaned out and prepared to provide a little comfort.

    For those too hot-headed to do menial tasks, he had his peers arrange training exercises. Most northerners¡¯ first reaction to problems was a swinging sword at it. Familiar actions put them at ease and bled off their energy before the rampant emotions could get them in trouble. It also gave the young knights, a little despondent after having been banned from the battle, something to occupy their minds.

    The seniors were the easiest as they handled themselves. They found comfortable chairs and small projects without any direction. Lancecain only spent a few minutes asking if they needed anything, to which he was promptly waved off.

    He was granted a miracle for the second day in the row as he successfully juggled the people until sunset. He didn¡¯t like his chances trying to do it a second time. They understandably wanted to know if their family members had lived or died and a day was long enough for those in charge to have drawn up a preliminary casualty report. Even the seniors, who have given him no problems, sent a representative to politely but firmly tell him that they would be going to the gate tomorrow and the only way he could stop them was by cutting them down. Lancecain had nodded solemnly. He had done what he could but he was no lord. A part of him was also relieved for the excuse to check on the situation himself.

    Another nightwatch was put together, both to appease the restless young knights and reassure the more fearful civilians. Lancecain signed up to stave off another night of fitful rest. His body was tired but his mind continued to race despite his best efforts to calm it.

    By the end of his shift, sleep still felt distant so he went for a walk.

    He wandered with no destination, thinking of anything and everything. When he came out of his thoughts, he found himself on the main road, heading for the walls. ¡°Those of the north seek Victory always,¡± he said to himself with a chuckle. As he started back the way he¡¯d come, something caught his attention. He couldn¡¯t say what it was. A quick scan of his surroundings revealed nothing but instincts honed after years of life and death battles had his hair standing on end. A hand went to the hilt of the sword on his waist as he scanned the darkness a second time.

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    He wouldn¡¯t have found anything if the enemies didn¡¯t make a move. One moment, he was surrounded by quiet shadows. The next, several figures were stepping forward. A quick glance confirmed that they already had him surrounded, their steps not making the slightest sound.

    His eyes began to glow as he drew his sword. People with good intentions didn¡¯t surround others on empty roads. Besides, Victory had no allies. Strangers were almost guaranteed to be enemies and they were obviously strangers. Suspicious ones that hid their faces and bodies with large cloaks with comically large hoods. He¡¯d been taught to strike first and ask questions later. Sometimes, never.

    ¡°Wait, human.¡±

    Few things could have stayed his hand at that moment. One of his ambushers dropping their large hood to reveal an estrazi was one of them. Or at least, he thought it was an estrazi. They were very different from the bipedal lizards Alana had brought back as prisoners.

    Rather than a long, scaled snout, their face was flat with recognizable features. A browridge, the smallest hump to suggest a nose, and pale, thin lips. He couldn¡¯t decide if the face suggested male or female but it was undisputably attractive, regardless of the alienness of it. However, the being was human enough he might not have connected them with the estrazi if not for their blue skin, reptilian eyes, and the small scales along the sides of their face.

    ¡°If you want to talk, surrender. Remove your cloaks and lie face down, limbs spread.¡± The strange circumstances warranted questions but only after he had secured his safety.

    The strange estrazi ignored him. ¡°You are little leader. You will know where my human is.¡±

    ¡°Your human? I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Inwardly, Lancecain cursed. That could only be referring to one person. The estrazi had come in search of Khan. An action that suggested that he was far more to them, or at least this estrazi in particular, than a convenient source of information. Lancecain had been sure there was more to the situation than the duke had let on and had never been more unhappy to be right.

    It was the worst possible timing. The strongest knights were in the fort, recovering from a major battle, and he was several minutes from his, or any other, order. Even if he managed to signal for help, it would take a small eternity in the world of combat for anyone to arrive. He hoped that the story of Khan¡¯s betrayal being motivated by mental interference wasn¡¯t a lie because if the man¡¯s intentional actions had led to Lancecain¡¯s predicament, they would have words, regardless of his last name.

    He also hoped that he hadn¡¯t come face-to-face with the one responsible for that interference. Blades and claws, he felt comfortable fending off, but invasive magic like the mental affinity was beyond his expertise. He wanted to drag out the conversation, give someone a chance to notice something was wrong, but the thought of invisible strands of magic infecting his mind with each passing moment rapidly wore down his patience.

    ¡°I saw you lead other humans and you wield light. You must be valued. You will know important things.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know humans very well. Half the fort has the light affinity and the only reason I was leading others is because the real leaders were busy. I¡¯m nothing special at all.¡±

    ¡°Liar. My human told me how rare light is.¡± The strange estrazi¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You refuse to cooperate.¡±

    The cloaked figures took a menacing step forward, preparing to attack. Lancecain confirmed his lack of options and shrugged helplessly. ¡°Afraid so.¡±

    His eyes glowed as he cast a spell. One of the first his master had taught him. A bright ball of light meant to fly high into the air and explode with brilliance. A signal to let the knight know if his, at the time, young and inexperienced heir ran into trouble. Given the tall walls of the fort, he had to triple the mana behind the distance variable for any hope that the knights within the walls would notice. They wouldn¡¯t recognize it for the distress signal it was but after the recent battle, the tense warriors would be quick to investigate any strange circumstances.

    It was a lot of mana for a ¡°useless¡± spell but Lancecain was a man of caution. Creatures that had sneaked past Victory couldn¡¯t be simple and he had no way to evaluate the strength of his opponents. Worse, his skillset as a duelist didn¡¯t fare well against multiple opponents. He decided to prioritize calling for reinforcements rather than rely on his own abilities.

    Whether it was the best decision remained to be seen but he undoubtedly suffered for it. He¡¯d thrown ninety mana into his spell to ensure it would be seen. Nearly a third of his total coefficient. A respectable number for his age but when it came to mana and gold, one could never have enough. Whatever amount of time he could have held off his attackers had just been halved without doing a thing to injure them.

    As the spell exploded in a brilliant display of golden light above them, the hooded figures rushed him, the strange estrazi looking on. Six attackers coming from every direction.

    Burning light coated his sword as he turned and dashed toward the enemy directly behind him. He was counting on reinforcements but that didn¡¯t mean he would remain idle while under attack. His odds of making it out alive improved significantly if he managed to break out of the encirclement. Things didn¡¯t look good but he was a knight of Victory. Unfavorable odds only served to get his heart pumping.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-16

    The people of Harvest feared and revered the light affinity. No affinity had an intrinsic advantage over any other. A caster¡¯s threat was purely based on their ability, a mix of coefficient, knowledge, and experience. What made the light affinity special was the history behind it. An ordinary man wielded fire. Heroes and saints wielded light. No matter someone¡¯s skill, facing a light caster would give most of humanity pause.

    Lancecain wasn¡¯t fighting humans. Where any person would have flinched from the sight of his sword covered in golden light, the hooded figures didn¡¯t pause for a moment. He swung at the estrazi directly in front of him, eyes blazing as two illusionary blades mimicked his swing from different angles, cutting off any chance of escape. They wouldn¡¯t do the same damage as his blade but his light came with intense heat. Burns didn¡¯t bleed but they could be just as deadly as an open wound.

    Unfortunately, his opponent didn¡¯t need to dodge. Lancecain¡¯s swords of light could burn through leather armor and make someone wearing full plate very uncomfortable. They couldn¡¯t do anything to solid earth. A wall rose in front of him with startling speed. Too late to take another course, Lancecain put his all into his attack, reflexively thinning the coating on his blade and funneling the mana to the heat variable.

    He felt a sharp spike of pride and vindication as his sword cut through the meagre defense. As the top fell away, Lancecain saw his blow had reached his attacker who¡¯d been too close, trusting in their spell. He only had a moment to celebrate his luck as his next attacker was on him.

    He sidestepped a bodily rush, cutting into his attacker¡¯s back before blocking a wicked looking dagger with his opposite gauntlet. A powerful gust of wind knocked him off his feet. The moment his back hit the ground, snow swirled around him before transforming into restraints formed of ice, trapping him against the ground.

    The moment he felt them, he cast a spell. His master had drilled him to use his spells reflexively but the adjustments he needed to make took precious seconds. By time a wave of intense heat covered him, melting his bindings, one of his attackers was already on top of him, a brown and scaly fist snapping his head to the side with a heavy blow.

    If he were a regular man, the blow would have knocked him out but he was a northern knight. He¡¯d taken harder blows from frost rain, a miserable event where ice fell from the sky. He returned the blow with one of his own, to much greater effect. His attacker was knocked off him and he jumped to his feet.

    Another flurry of snow surrounded him but he didn¡¯t wait to see what the water caster amongst them would do with it. Another blast of heat melted the swirling snow and all the white powder in his immediate vicinity. It also made those close to him rear back and he took the chance to run.

    Two figures rushed after him as he continued his escape and the ground turned to mud beneath him. He was fast but they were much faster, circling in front of him in no time. The lack of footing made his swings awkward but Lancecain powered through, cutting down one of the attackers and shouldering the second to the ground.

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    He cast his distress signal spell again while canceling the distance variable, hoping the light would cover his escape. It didn¡¯t help. As golden light bright enough to temporarily blind an unfortunate observer flared around him, a sharp pain came from his leg. He stumbled but he didn¡¯t fall, biting his lower lip to hold back a scream. Blinking dark spots from his eyes, he looked down to see two large icicles piercing his leg. A swing of his sword shattered the ice but it was too late. The attack had destroyed his hopes of escaping.

    Worse, he could feel the first twinges of mana strain in his chest. Every remaining drop was precious now and there were still three uninjured attackers facing him, not including the strange estrazi that had yet to move.

    He gave it his best effort, bringing down one more using a trick that made a copy of himself forged of light to distract the attackers, but the somewhat costly spell depleted him too much. A wave of nausea dulled his reflexes and an arrow of fire hit him in the face. He dropped his sword, hands twitching before his face as he screamed. A moment later, a sharp blow to the back of the head knocked him out.

    The whole exchange took scant minutes but it wouldn¡¯t be long until someone came upon them.

    Something Little Water was acutely aware of. ¡°You.¡± She gestured to the injured brown-scale. ¡°Smooth the ground. You.¡± She pointed to one of her two uninjured servants. ¡°Pick him up. Gently. I will not have my prize die to brutish hands. You.¡± Her finger moved to the second uninjured servant. ¡°And the rest of you. Go to where the other humans are. Be visible but do not attack them directly.¡±

    All parties understood she had just given them a death sentence. The little leader had drawn attention to them and the humans would be coming in force. They would not be happy to find invaders targeting the vulnerable members of their brood. Her human told Little Water that humans valued their fellows, even the useless ones, far more than the estrazi. As it was, she didn¡¯t hesitate to give the order that would undoubtedly end with their execution and they didn¡¯t hesitate to follow it.

    The estrazi were created in service of a greater will. Sacrificing themselves on the word of their betters was practically woven into their being. Even for the females. Should her sisters seen fit to intervene in her affairs, Little Water would have bowed to their wishes, though perhaps with a little more bitterness than a nameless.

    That is why she had taken such bold action. If she managed to rise above her sisters, they would bow to her unconditionally as well. One day, she would be the next Great Mother, regardless of her common affinity and meagre talent. Then, and only then, would the brood, frozen in time like the rest of the north, become something more.

    As four of the six servants she¡¯d brought with her headed in the direction of the little leader¡¯s home, Little Water moved the snow around them. She waved for the two remaining nameless to walk before her, clearing the way before them and arranging a pristine blanket of white snow behind them.

    Tall gouts of fire illuminated the night as the four nameless servants recklessly threw magic while moving toward the Order of Polar Duelists. Soon after, several figures dropped down from the sky to engage them. No one noticed the four figures that quickly disappeared into the shadows of the village, making slow and steady progress away from the fort.

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-17

    Lancecain woke to darkness. He was groggy but it only took a moment to get his bearings. As he felt the dull ache and extreme itching over his face, the memories of the previous night came back to him. He sucked in a deep breath, smelling damp earth, and let it out slowly. Being bested didn¡¯t feel good but his chances of escaping on his own had been abysmal from the start. It was why he had used the bulk of his magic to call for help. Unfortunately, the knights hadn¡¯t been able to reach him in time.

    The itching on his face intensified as he became more aware of it. A hand moved toward his cheek slowly, Lancecain knowing better than to poke at a wound but unable to help himself.

    ¡°Do not touch.¡±

    Lancecain stiffened as he heard the familiar voice speak from nearby. Waking up in the dark with no healer to see to him, he knew he wasn¡¯t in the custody of his order, but it was jarring to have his suspicions confirmed. ¡°My attackers, I assume. Don¡¯t suppose you can shed any light.¡±

    The strange estrazi, Lancecain guessed from the voice, hissed. ¡°You are the one who wields light.¡±

    The lack of pain in his chest meant he had recovered from the worst effects of mana strain but he was in no hurry to throw spells. ¡°If we are going to share each other¡¯s company for a while, I would like to have something to call you.¡±

    ¡°I am Little Water.¡±

    An unusual name. Though he supposed it was unusual enough that the creatures that were isolated beyond the walls of Victory spoke Common at all. She could have had a perfectly respectable name in her native language and it only translated into something odd in human tongue. ¡°Good to meet you, Little Water. I am Lancecain.¡±

    ¡°No. You are a guide. You will guide me to my human and then you are nothing.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean you plan to kill me? Because that doesn¡¯t give me much motivation to help you.¡± Normally, it¡¯d be unthinkable to help an enemy of humanity but Lancecain didn¡¯t think it was a bad idea to lead the estrazi to Alana and her wives. He doubted they would have nearly as much trouble fending them off.

    ¡°No. I will give you to my human.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never been a present before.¡± He chuckled. ¡°You think highly of Khan.¡± Despite being a member of the James family, the youngest living son of the duke didn¡¯t have much of a reputation. He obtained a bit of infamy with his refusal to participate in the campaigns but in the following years, he became nothing more than an oddity. People didn¡¯t think badly of him but they certainly didn¡¯t think much of him. It was strange hearing any being take such a strong interest in who Lancecain thought of as a thoroughly unremarkable young man. ¡°What do you want from him anyway?¡±

    ¡°That is not your concern.¡±

    Meeting a boundary, Lancecain changed his avenue of advance. ¡°Can I at least know where I am? Being too far from home makes me uncomfortable.¡±

    ¡°You are with me. That is all you need to know.¡±

    Taking in the darkness, the smell of earth, and the uneven ground he felt beneath a questing hand, the young knight guessed he was underground. A good strategy. If the estrazi had dug deep enough and covered their traces well, it would be hard to find them. The knights would comb the area for him but few would think to look underground.

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    However, if the creature thought that digging a hole would be enough to escape the knights of Victory, it was vastly underestimating their forces. While the fighting might have delayed their response time, they wouldn¡¯t stop looking for him for quite a while.

    During the campaigns, armies would fight hordes of monsters to bring back the bodies of the fallen. The storms had forced to them to abandon their dead and it was a bitter drink to swallow. With Lancecain¡¯s prominent reputation, they would be burning with motivation to find him. The estrazi might have managed to hide him but he wouldn¡¯t bet on their chances of escaping the north. Lancecain wouldn¡¯t be surprised if there were patrols combing the village and its surroundings day and night for weeks.

    ¡°I doubt you¡¯ll believe me but here¡¯s some advice. If you want to see Khan, your best hope would be throwing yourself on the duke¡¯s mercy. As things stand, the knights will kill you on sight. I don¡¯t know how you managed to sneak past Victory but they will be waiting for you.¡±

    Another hiss. There was something mocking in the pitch of it. ¡°I know of humans. You are not the unflinching nameless. Soon, your brood will grow weary of their duty. Or distracted. I saw the state of your surface burrow and the Disgraced that flew over it. If it returns, your brood will have no time to spare for you, little leader or not.¡±

    ¡°Disgraced?¡±

    ¡°Surely, you did not miss a creature of such power.¡±

    Lancecain finally drew the connection. ¡°Do you mean the Lord?¡±

    Little Water hissed and clicked. ¡°Lord? Stupid name. The Disgraced are lords of nothing. Broken creatures that live without purpose.¡±

    ¡°You know what the Lords are?¡± In his excitement, Lancecain sat up. He didn¡¯t make it halfway before his chest bumped against a bar of earth. Carefully moving his legs showed another arc of earth over his legs, keeping him from spreading them too far apart or raising them too high. The arcs of hardened earth were loose bindings but effective enough in restricting his movements. ¡°And what did you call them? Disgraced?¡±

    ¡°Calm down.¡± A cool hand touched his chest and forced him to lie prone. ¡°We took care but you are hurt. We will speak as long as you can keep calm. Otherwise, I will knock you out.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you are being so open.¡± It would be better to say he was suspicious. It made him doubt the veracity of the statements but the information was so incredible, he wouldn¡¯t let the opportunity go. Someone else could investigate how truthful they were if he made it out of his predicament alive. ¡°But I appreciate it. The Disgraced. You know them?¡±

    He heard a chuff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. ¡°Yes, guide. The brood knows them. The brood made them. When we came to this land, we sought servants. As the majesties elevated us, we in turn elevated the residents of the frost.¡±

    ¡°Impossible.¡± He refused to believe that any creature could create another as powerful as the Lord. ¡°Forgive me if you take this as an insult but I can¡¯t see the estrazi subjugating, let alone creating, the being I witnessed.¡±

    ¡°What do you know of the brood, human wielder of light? What have you seen of the majesties¡¯ servants? I am not the equal of my sisters. I cannot compare to Great Mother. Her grace could make a champion of a worm. They bowed to her greatness but like all other creatures that live without purpose, they strayed from their path. The useless things did not dare face the brood and fled to the furthest edge of our territory where they cower, hoping we continue to ignore them.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me the Lords of the Peaks, the strongest manabeasts in the north, are at the top of those mountains to¡­hide from you and your family?¡± He couldn¡¯t hide his disbelief. ¡°If they are so scared, why not leave the north entirely? It is a big world out there.¡±

    ¡°They cannot. Great Mother is not stupid. Those that are not brood cannot be trusted. They must be chained, either through oaths or threats. Their chain is woven into their being. They need the cold to survive. They cannot leave and it motivates them to do their duty.¡±

    ¡°Their duty?¡±

    ¡°No. Now, you will speak. You will tell me of my human. Where he is and what they have done to him. Everything you know.¡±

    ¡°¡­and if I refuse?¡±

    ¡°You will not refuse for long.¡±

    Lancecain grimaced. His experience was miserable enough without being tortured for readily available information. Besides, as long as Little Water continued to give information freely, it was an advantageous exchange. He didn¡¯t have many options either. ¡°Very well. I suppose I should start with the attempt to kidnap Khan from his sister.¡±

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-18

    Lancecain severely underestimated Little Water¡¯s patience.

    Hiding underground was a smart tactic. The knights wouldn¡¯t expect it because the conditions of the burrow would drive any person insane. A criminal could only remain in a dark, cramped space for so long before coming up for air.

    He originally expected his incarceration in darkness to last for a few days, perhaps a week at most before the estrazi took their chances. The moment they did, the tenacious knights of the north that Lancecain knew would still be sweeping the area would pounce on them, ending his horrible situation.

    He didn¡¯t expect the estrazi to be just as tenacious. Or quite so uncomfortable underground. It was hard to keep time in perpetual darkness but he knew more than a few days had passed and the estrazi showed no signs of leaving. He didn¡¯t know what kind of supplies they had but whenever he complained of hunger, crumbles of something hard and tasteless was pushed into his mouth. Water was the same, trickled past his lips upon his demand.

    When he needed to use the bathroom or wash, one of his captors dragged him through a short tunnel to another underground room where his needs were seen too. It wasn¡¯t a comfortable experience but everything he needed was provided. Lancecain had to assume that if his needs could be met so easily, they could take care of themselves just as easily. A part of him feared that the estrazi were willing to remain underground forever. And could, should the situation demand it.

    The knights of the north could be stubborn bastards but they couldn¡¯t look for him forever. Victory lay in ruins. Thousands of their soldiers had died or been lost in the storms. They had to prepare in case the team sent to investigate the source of the odd storms returned with a target, the equivalent of a second campaign.

    There was also the matter of the March. While it was possible that the guilds ended the situation with diplomacy, no one believed the debt would be settled without violence. Attacking Quest would mean antagonizing the king. A civil war could break out and the north was not prepared. Yet, their traditions wouldn¡¯t allow them to retreat.

    Too many crises were demanding the duke¡¯s attention. Lancecain considered himself valuable but he was only one man. If he were optimistic, he¡¯d give them two weeks before the knights patrolling the area returned to the fort. If his master was still present to wield his influence, he¡¯d say three. If they hadn¡¯t suffered so many losses, four. But, like he thought when he¡¯d been attacked, it was the worst possible timing.

    At the beginning, Lancecain didn¡¯t intend to be cooperative. He spoke with Little Water, as torture was the last thing he needed to add to his circumstances, but he kept his answers as vague as he could. Purposely misleading her when he could. He hoped he could guide her into making a mistake, mainly leaving their hideaway.

    However, the longer he remained in the darkness, the harder it got to remember those goals. Little Water¡¯s voice, pleasant despite being laced with slight disdain, was all he had. It woke him up, sent him to sleep, and distracted him when the hours started to drag on. Sometimes, it felt like he was sinking into the Abyss itself when one of her brusque questions raised him up, reminding him that the darkness wouldn¡¯t last.

    The more open he was, the more open the female estrazi was in turn, and the longer their conversations lasted. Things he didn¡¯t mean to say slipped out with greater frequency until he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. He justified it to himself with the knowledge he was learning many things about her people while telling her things she could learns from a few hours of eavesdropping.

    ¡°Tell me about the one who has my human,¡± Little Water asked during one of their conversations.

    The identity of Alana and her wives was one of the topics Lancecain had remained vague about but he didn¡¯t see the point anymore. It wasn¡¯t like the walking lizards could pose a threat to the two monsters. He considered the consequences for several moments before begrudgingly asking, ¡°What do you want to know?¡±

    If he could see, he¡¯d have noticed the way the estrazi¡¯s eyes gleamed with the glee of a predator cornering prey. ¡°Everything.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot. I suppose I should start with her name. Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Looooouriane Tooome.¡± She rolled the name in her mouth a few times, saying it different ways. Almost as if she was tasting it. ¡°Tome. A scholarly book. A name that suggests one with knowledge. What does Lourianne mean?¡±

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    ¡°Nothing.¡± He didn¡¯t understand Little Water¡¯s fascination with names, especially since her own sounded as if it¡¯d been decided by a toddler. All of sisters had similar names. Great Fire. Good Light. Little Mind. She¡¯d asked him for the meaning behind his own name and had been baffled when he said it meant nothing besides his parents liked the way it sounded. Very heroic, according to his father. ¡°It has no meaning I¡¯m aware of.¡±

    She scoffed at his answer. ¡°Humans are silly. A name is meant to describe a being, yet you have names that mean nothing to you.¡±

    ¡°Most don¡¯t choose names with meaning but use their lives to give meaning to their names. The James are a good example. In the time of the first duke, James was the same as any other name. Now, it¡¯s synonymous with Victory. It¡¯s full of the history of those who¡¯ve had it.¡±

    ¡°But not the history of the individual. What is the point of claiming another¡¯s achievements? Without your own, you are nothing, no matter your name.¡±

    ¡°It inspires those who have it to do great things, like their forebearers.¡±

    ¡°Loyalty and ambition should be enough to inspire. No more of this silly topic. This Lourianne Tome. Why does she have my human?¡±

    ¡°If you believe Khan¡¯s father, it¡¯s to investigate what your people did to him and probe his shattered mind for any useful information. I personally believe it was just a convenient excuse to save his life.¡±

    ¡°Why would this Tome need to save my human?¡± Little Water in a startled voice.

    Lancecain had to restrain a chuckle. ¡°Is that a joke? Khan conspired with possible enemies of the north and his mind has been compromised. What other fate could possibly await him besides execution?¡±

    ¡°He told me he would not be held responsible,¡± she said softly.

    ¡°Then he lied to you. Khan knows better than anyone how Victory operates. I can only guess that he didn¡¯t want to worry you.¡±

    Little Water hissed. ¡°He said nothing because I would not have allowed him to return. Great Eye said he would be safe. His manipulations are tiresome¡­but he wasn¡¯t wrong. My human is safe?¡±

    ¡°As safe as he can be. He¡¯s in the best hands available. Lou is accompanied by the only person that has a hope of unraveling his mind.¡±

    ¡°A being that rivals Great Mind?! Impossible! No member of a lesser race should be capable of such.¡±

    He resented being referred to as a lesser anything by a creature that looked like snake crawled inside a woman and gave birth to a strange cross between the two but Lancecain had learned to keep many of his opinions to himself. ¡°The being in question isn¡¯t human. Not even of this world so I doubt she¡¯s what you¡¯re calling a lesser race. And whether she¡¯s capable of healing Khan¡¯s mind or not is irrelevant. The duke believes she might be able to do it. That gives Khan time, which is the important thing.¡±

    Little Water clicked angrily in what he recognized as the estrazi language before switching back to Common. ¡°It is very important if there is a creature that can rival one of the strongest in the brood holding my human. How loyal is this being to the Tome?¡±

    ¡°Incredibly? At least, she seemed to be. And now it¡¯s my turn to ask questions. How strong is this Great Mind?¡±

    From casual conversation during the dinner before the campaign, he knew that Lou¡¯s succubus was a thrall. Creatures with coefficients under four hundred. Enough to match the strongest tier of knights but not the legends like Dunwayne.

    The few mental casters in Victory didn¡¯t have a chance in the Abyss of restoring Khan¡¯s mind. Something didn¡¯t make sense and he would bet the inconsistency lied in Lou¡¯s camp.

    ¡°It is hard to quantify power. It is not the amount of mana, the knowledge of the world, or the experience to use it. It is all three. I am Little, a puddle. Big is a pond. Good is a lake. Great is the ocean. Majesty is the sky.¡±

    ¡°That¡­tells me nothing.¡±

    Little Water huffed. ¡°From our fight, you would be Little Light. The Disgraced would be Greats, but weak ones. This being, if it can undo the work of Great Mind, is closer to a Disgraced than you.¡±

    Lancecain swallowed. If the female estrazi¡¯s estimation was right, Lou was walking around with a creature that could rival a Lord, either in raw power, experience, or technique. A creature that could probably single-handedly level the kingdom. He pictured the cute thrall roasting meat over a campfire and shook his head. It was too incredible to believe.

    ¡°An impossible opponent to fight.¡± Little Water sounded discouraged. Maybe even depressed.

    ¡°It may not come to a fight,¡± Lancecain said slowly. After speaking with Little Water for days, or possibly weeks, he didn¡¯t think war was in Victory¡¯s best interests. If she hadn¡¯t lied, and she¡¯d sounded far too proud to be lying, they had thousands of soldiers that would die on command and a handful of casters that could rival a Lord. Not a fight he wanted to put his countrymen through.

    ¡°Lou isn¡¯t as fanatical about things as northerners. If you don¡¯t try to abduct her during your meeting, you may be able to settle things through words. At least have a conversation about it.¡±

    ¡°The powerful do not speak with the weak for no benefit. What does this Tome want?¡±

    Lancecain noted that she had ignored his own desire for answers, bullishly charging forward with her own interests, but he ignored it for the moment. His mind was still processing the implication of her words.

    ¡°She struck me as something of a hedonist. Money, power, pleasure, the usuals. Mainly money and pleasure. She has plenty of power. Given her two wives and a succubi, I¡¯d say women are her weakness.¡±

    ¡°Weakness? Why are women able to fell her?¡±

    ¡°No, not that kind of¡ªher vice. You know. What she desires most. It¡¯s women. Beautiful ones, though she has a¡­more refined palette than most. She¡¯s attracted to all kinds.¡±

    Little Water made a thoughtful noise. ¡°Beautiful women, hm¡­¡±

 Miniarc-Northern Lights-19

    The monotony of Lancecain¡¯s life eventually came to an end. After having his bodily needs tended to, the hands pulling him through the darkness entered another tunnel. One that went upwards rather than sideways. Lancecain heart hammered with excitement at the implication.

    It felt like he¡¯d spent a small eternity in the dark. Eventually, his patience had run out. He lashed out with words and magic. In return, Little Water made good on her vague threats. Lancecain was no stranger to pain but he hadn¡¯t been trained for torture.

    She claimed to be one of the weaker caster¡¯s in her brood but she was strong enough to drown him before pulling the water from her lungs. If she didn¡¯t have the mana, or simply felt like changing things up, the estrazi had brought along plenty of blades. It was an¡­unpleasant experience.

    The young knight hated the female estrazi but not with all his heart. The moment he stopped his short rebellion, the torture ended. He had antagonized her with his actions. Worse, he couldn¡¯t say she had gone ¡°too far¡± as he knew without a doubt that the knights of Victory would do far worse if the need arrived. Even himself.

    He wanted to villainize her. Knew that he probably should. Yet, lying in the darkness while waiting for her to speak to him, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to. It wouldn¡¯t stop him taking revenge if the opportunity presented itself but their relationship remained cordial.

    His conviction was about to be tested. Their ascension didn¡¯t stop, the estrazi carrying him moving steadily upward. He became certain that his captors were finally willing to breach the surface. His best chance to escape was coming. He lacked his sword and armor but he had the element of surprise. After their fun below, he doubted Little Water was prepared for him to mount a resistance.

    Lancecain was willing to bet he could throw one spell before they reacted If he used it right, he might be able to escape. Or at least signal the fort. They had shown that they were reluctant to kill him and slowing them down would also be a victory.

    He was cementing the details of his plan when they cleared the tunnel. Lancecain knew they were no longer underground because he could feel a cold wind as it chilled his skin and tousled his hair that had grown unruly without proper attention.

    But the darkness didn¡¯t abate.

    They hadn¡¯t surfaced during the night. He wasn¡¯t surrounded by a gloom broken by unobstructed stars and however much of the moon was visible. It was the complete darkness he¡¯d been so hopeful of escaping.

    Lancecain¡¯s stomach dropped as he recalled the fight that led to his abduction. The fire spell that hit him in the face. When he¡¯d woken up, whatever medicine the estrazi used had dulled his pain. Frequent applications had healed and smoothed his blistered skin. He hadn¡¯t thought about his injury soon after.

    ¡°I can¡¯t see,¡± he said in a dull voice. The accusation lacked condemnation, his anger not yet strong enough to pierce his shock. ¡°You blinded me.¡±

    ¡°You resisted,¡± Little Water said without a shred of remorse.

    That gave his anger the fuel it needed to explode. ¡°You cripple me for life and blame me?!¡± he screamed. His hand flexed, desiring his sword. He channeled his mana, ready to burn the insolent lizard, and his frustration peaked when he realized it¡¯d be impossible to hit anything he couldn¡¯t see.

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    He tried to stand but his legs felt weak. A hand grabbed his arm to steady him but he knocked it away¡­then promptly fell as his legs failed to support him. He flushed with anger and helplessness. Lancecain was almost ready to throw his magic around indiscriminately and hope for the best but Little Water¡¯s voice, a voice that had been his whole world, grabbed his attention.

    ¡°You have not been crippled for life.¡±

    ¡°Of course I have! Do you think healers can work miracles?!¡± There were two rules when it came to magical healing. The first was that magic wasn¡¯t an answer to disease. Fighting sicknesses burned through mana more than any other kind of healing. For that reason, they stayed away from plagues. Most refused to ply their talents against simple illnesses, including children¡¯s sniffles or fevers.

    The second rule regarded time. The older an injury, the harder it was to heal it. Lancecain didn¡¯t understand the reasoning behind it but it was an established fact.

    The best healers could close gaping wounds and reattach limbs right after the injuries occurred but the chances of success dropped to nearly nothing after a single day. After a few days, open wounds became harder to heal and saving limbs became impossible. Weeks? It better to let the injury heal naturally than waste the mana unless the situation was dire. It was why, despite Victory¡¯s many healers, knights could still be maimed during the campaigns.

    Lancecain knew his injury couldn¡¯t be healed. He, the man meant to be the next northern light, would spend the rest of his life in darkness. The poetic nature of his tragedy would be entertaining if he weren¡¯t the focus of the joke.

    ¡°Your injury is not simple but it can be healed. Good Life could restore your eyes with effort. Great Life with the ease of breathing. If I can accomplish my goal of connecting the humans and the estrazi, you can negotiate for healing.¡±

    Lancecain still wanted to put a burning lance through her chest but his anger was softened by the offer of hope. As long as Little Water¡¯s claim about the casters of her brood weren¡¯t gross exaggerations, they could succeed where human casters would fail.

    ¡°Your salvation may be even closer. The elf you describe. She uses magic like an estrazi and has life magic. If she is as strong as you say, she can also heal you.¡±

    That made the young knight¡¯s heart pound in excitement. He liked his chances of getting help from Kierra much more than forming an alliance between two hostile races.

    ¡°More reason for you cooperate.¡± Lancecain could hear the smugness in her tone but he didn¡¯t comment. ¡°You, pick him up.¡±

    He grunted as someone put him on a bony shoulder. Feeling the world move without seeing the change was beyond disorientating. He¡¯d managed underground as the movements had been small and he had willed himself to stay strong with the knowledge that he¡¯d escape the darkness eventually.

    Now, he couldn¡¯t say that for sure. His shattered determination mixed with his dread and made him feel nauseous. The jarring impacts to his stomach with each of his escort¡¯s steps didn¡¯t help. He half-hoped he would vomit on the bastard. It was the only revenge he¡¯d get as he¡¯d decided to cooperate.

    On the small chance he managed to escape from the estrazi and returned to Victory, the best he could hope for was the life of a servant for a long time. Months, if not years. He would be confined and interrogated after encountering the estrazi. If he managed to convince them he wasn¡¯t being manipulated like Khan, it would still be trying to arrange escorts to Quest to seek out the elf for healing.

    If he cooperated with the estrazi, he would be aiding the enemy, something he had cursed Khan for on a near daily basis recently. But, Little Water didn¡¯t want to be an enemy of the north. She wanted to be an ally and save lives by opening communication between Harvest and her people.

    He wouldn¡¯t be helping her to harm anyone. Helping her reach Quest was more likely to do her harm than jeopardize the kingdom. Her rough negotiation tactics would not work quite as well against Lou and the rest of her house. One could say that by leading her to failure, he was doing his duty as a knight. Being healed in a timely manner was just a bonus.

    Frantic reasoning to justify what the north would undoubtedly consider a betrayal. Mentally berated himself for his weakness but he remained limp in cooperation as he was carried away.

 Miniarc-Beyond Borders-01

    Dear Father,

    I hope this letter finds you well. From what I hear, the capital has been in an uproar. The kingdom has never given much thought to summoners and for good reason. Recent events have only shown how volatile their practice can be. Their ideology itself is corruptive, teaching its practitioners to forge relations with suspect creatures rather than improve themselves.

    That doesn¡¯t mention the creatures themselves. We don¡¯t allow foreigners onto our soil without extensive questioning but beings from other worlds may walk our soil with anyone¡¯s invitation. Things that not only do not value our kingdom but do not value human beings. That is the only way to explain scum like the Grimoires and their thralls. The very thought is obscene.

    While it would be best for everyone if the practice was banned all together, your letters showed the inherent danger of forcing their hands. If we cannot remove them, regulating them is the next best option. I do not question your decisions, but I advise keeping an eye on Javarius Tome. The family has done nothing notable in centuries, but they are the oldest summoning family in our history. It isn¡¯t beyond the realm of possibility that their loyalty to their king may fall short of their loyalty to their elementals.

    In other regards, the war effort is going well. I originally thought Marquis Guiness gave us such pitiable information because he intended harm to the crown, but the truth is there isn¡¯t much more to the invasion beyond his words. Our adversaries aren¡¯t an organized army. They aren¡¯t even soldiers. They are a senseless green mob hurling themselves upon our blades. They don¡¯t even have arms. The royal army hardly needs to do anything. I truly believe a tyrant across the ocean is sending his undesirables to die on our soil.

    This can by no means be a serious invasion effort so I would put to bed any worries about a war with a foreign power. We should be finished with the cleanup by the end of winter and home before the first buds of spring bloom.

    Give my regards to Mother.

    Your son, Dowager kor Harvest, First Prince of Harvest

    Dowager put down his quill with a tired sigh. The prince was a far sight from the man who had confidently marched at the head of the column of soldiers he led south. His pristine armor, the steel polished till it shone like silver, his breastplate decorated by a gold inlay of the stag that represented the royal family, was dulled in caked in mud. His silver hair, the mark of royalty, had grown unruly. He meant to have it cut but it went against everything he¡¯d been taught to allow anyone near him with an unsheathed blade.

    The only one he would trust with the duty was Sir Quintana, a former royal knight. The knight agreed to help as long as Dowager was fine being bald. The prince decided to simply keep it tied but unruly strands always managed to break free.

    His clothes hadn¡¯t had a proper wash in weeks, small debris somehow always managed to find its way into his boots, and he¡¯d yet to sleep through the night since they¡¯d constructed their war camp. First, from excitement. Then, from exhaustion. He would have never imagined that there would come a day he would be so tired he couldn¡¯t sleep.

    The insects didn¡¯t help. The first night, there¡¯d been so many, they could have covered him from head to toe. He hadn¡¯t had a decent meal since hitting the road, but the bugs had been treating his army like a royal banquet for weeks. It was the environment. Something about the humid air, pungent plants, and copious amounts of mud meant they bred like¡­flies. As hospitable as it was for the bugs as big as his thumb, it was just as inhospitable to his army.

    The southern half of the kingdom was less developed. Some of the capital¡¯s nobles still thought of the land as wild. The history books said that the south had been ignored by the founders as it was far quicker to plant crops on the fertile plains near the eventual site of their capital than chop down the woodlands or contend with wet environs like Dowager was stuck in. With nothing besides what they could carry on their boats, they didn¡¯t have the luxury of taking on time-consuming projects. Afterwards, few people of means cared to develop the land as they were loathed to be away from the capital.

    Dowager was starting to believe that was all a bunch of bull. The truth was that the south, especially the part of it he was in, was an Abyss-cursed hell for any living creature. The goblins had come in from the southwest. When the prince set off, he pictured his army assaulting a beach. He imagined the creatures would try to disembark in the dead of night, but his men would be waiting. Fire casters would light up the night while the men peppered the creatures with arrows. They¡¯d send them scurrying back to their boats before blowing them out of the water.

    A war ended in a single battle. Dowager knew it was a dream, but he couldn¡¯t help thinking it would be an auspicious start to his future reign.

    The reality of his first war hadn¡¯t come close to what he imagined. They had indeed made it before the goblins but that was the only thing that had gone right.

    The first problem was that there was no beach. No shoreline. He would have settled for cliffs but all he could see for leagues was mud and strange squat trees growing in the shallower water. A shore had places that were good and bad to dock or beach a boat. That made it easy to predict where an enemy would make land.

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    In the wetlands, every place was just as bad as the next. On the bright side, his enemies would have a terrible time securing their boats no matter where they landed. The thought of the small goblins pushing anything through the thick mud was hilarious.

    On the bad side, it meant the creatures had no reason to be judicious about where they disembarked. Dowager had to defend the entirety of the wetlands, something that had stretched his forces thin. Even using a minimum of forces to cover the distance, by means of scouts and small groups of soldiers meant to delay the enemy until reinforcements could arrive, they were at their limit. Perhaps beyond them.

    Dowager wasn¡¯t the only man in the war camp so tired he could fall asleep while standing if he closed his eyes for too long. Their enemies were barely worth the effort of swinging a sword but running and fighting for days on end could exhaust even the best knights. Dowager didn¡¯t have the best knights. Aside from Sir Quintana, he didn¡¯t have any knights at all. Just regular men. Hardened by battle but regular men all the same.

    The condition of their camps didn¡¯t help. Dowager had experience camping. As part of his upbringing, he¡¯d been brought on hunts against manabeasts. Nothing dangerous, as anything more than a nuisance had long been driven away from the lands surrounding the capital. Some of the trips required him to sleep outside. He¡¯d always enjoyed the experience, as it was one of the few times he got to escape the tight confines of the palace.

    He¡¯d been excited to sleep under the stars for a few weeks. His one complaint was that he couldn¡¯t bring Benny, a maid he¡¯d taken a liking to recently, but he wouldn¡¯t let the poor girl roll around in the mud with him. She paled at the sight of anything with more than four legs. The nightmarishly large bugs in the wetlands would make her faint with fear.

    He also didn¡¯t like the idea of fending off the attentions of the whole army. He already struggled to bridge the distance between him and his men. Discipling soldiers left and right because they couldn¡¯t keep their eyes off the only woman in leagues wouldn¡¯t win him any fans.

    Though a part of him was sure that boat had already set sail. The camp conditions were truly terrible. The soft ground made it difficult to pitch their tents. On the first day, half the men got sick after drinking from a creek. That was after a water caster had purified it. He didn¡¯t want to know what had survived the man¡¯s spell, just thanked the saints it didn¡¯t survive three castings.

    Fires were harder to start and none of the wood was suitable for kindling. They could force it if necessary but with everything else draining the casters, it wasn¡¯t worth it. They could make do with cold meals. As well as not bathing. Things lived in the larger pools of water, including worms half the length of his arm that drank the blood of men. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was in the same kingdom.

    None of his troubles were written in the letters to his father. That¡¯d be far too embarrassing. He¡¯d set off with all the confidence and bluster of a conquering hero. The last things he wanted anyone to remember about his first real battle was how he could not stop scratching himself or how badly his camp smelled after the whole army hadn¡¯t washed in two weeks. They were fending off the goblins handily. That was all his father cared about so that was all he spoke of.

    As for his failings, he could address them himself. Chiefly, his reluctance to take advice. He had been taught that giving too much weight to another¡¯s opinion made him look weak. For royalty, perception was not simply important, but a matter of life and death. He didn¡¯t blame his upbringing. The fault was his own and no one else¡¯s.

    He was the idiot that thought it was a good idea to ignore the words of a royal knight and a career soldier before that. He still didn¡¯t like the idea of hiring mercenaries from Graywatch, as Sir Quintana had suggested, but letting the pirates deal with the goblins on the water would have made his life easier. Even if they only funneled the creatures to one stretch of mud.

    The knight had also suggested hiring a local to guide them. Dowager had acquiesced, not wanting to offend the man by rejecting him twice. At the time, he¡¯d thought that their detailed maps would suffice. The crown paid good money for them to be drawn and updated regularly, only losing to the inexhaustible resources of the Guiness family. The maps meant nothing when everything looked exactly the same.

    The knowledge of edible plants and the best spots for hunting had lightened the load on their supplies. Perhaps most important, Dowager had learned many things about the kingdom he was meant to rule one day from a perspective he rarely heard from.

    Overall, he wouldn¡¯t remember his first war fondly, but Dowager knew it was a crucial learning experience. Both for his future as a commander and a king. He wasn¡¯t embarrassed to be struggling in his youth. Everyone learned from failure, even heroes. He¡¯d just have to make sure the history books weren¡¯t too specific about his struggles.

    ¡°Your Highness,¡± a voice called from outside his tent. ¡°A messenger requests to see you.¡±

    ¡°Both of you, come in.¡±

    Dowager stood as two men entered his tent. The first in was the guard on duty. He looked disheveled and he only wore his breastplate. Technically, it was against the army¡¯s regulations, but Dowager had learned after the first week that he couldn¡¯t expect his men to be battle ready and alert at all times. During the first week, the tense men had been more of a danger to each other than the goblins.

    Behind him, the messenger was in a much worse state. Trekking through the mud had understandably left him dirty. Especially his boots. His feet looked like he¡¯d been the target of an earth caster. Dowager wondered how the man could move.

    He opened his mouth but the prince stopped him from speaking with a raised hand. Dowager carefully folded his letter before slipping it into a prepared envelope. He poured a special wax over the paper before pressing his ring into it, leaving an impression of a stag head. He handed it to the guard. ¡°Be careful, it¡¯s not dry.¡±

    ¡°You got it prince.¡±

    As the guard walked out, Dowager waved for the messenger to speak.

    ¡°Your Highness, more enemies have been spotted to the north. Near the third outpost.¡±

    ¡°Understood. Any change in numbers?¡±

    ¡°Sir, there¡¯s been a major change. The approaching horde is three times the size of the previous ones but there is another problem. There is another creature with the goblins.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°And it wants to speak with the commander of our forces.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

 Miniarc-Beyond Borders-02

    ¡°What do you think, Sir Quintana?¡±

    ¡°What do I think?¡± The knight huffed. Compared to everyone else in the camp, the prince included, Sir Quintana looked refreshed. His long career as a soldier meant he was accustomed to sleeping rough and he had the fewest number of responsibilities. He didn¡¯t attend to fight but to protect Dowager and act as his advisor, when allowed.

    Beyond that, as a royal knight, he had trained his body to its limits, had those limits extended by the melder that exclusively served the royal knights, and then trained to his new limits. Age slowed him down some but the running back and forth that left Dowager feeling like his limbs were carved from stone at the end of the day could barely make the older man breathe hard.

    ¡°I think you need to get over there and speak with this creature.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like it. Why ask for a parley now? If they are afraid of defeat, there is nothing stopping them from retreating.¡±

    ¡°That may not be an option. You¡¯re underestimating the sea, prince.  The journey takes weeks, with no convenient towns along the way to resupply. A boat also has a limited amount space. From the numbers we¡¯ve seen, it would be difficult to keep everyone from starving coming here, let alone on a round trip.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t retreat but fighting isn¡¯t working so now they want to talk.¡± Dowager pondered it. If his opponents were human, he wouldn¡¯t have thought twice about the request. But his opponents weren¡¯t human. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t make sense. The goblins have shown themselves to be nothing but mindless savages.¡± Creatures with reason and intellect wouldn¡¯t throw themselves at blades after watching hundreds of their compatriots die. ¡°Now, they practice diplomacy? How did they even learn Common?¡±

    ¡°Ah, but we aren¡¯t dealing with goblins, are we? We are dealing with an entirely different creature.¡±

    ¡°Yes. A commander that let its forces kill themselves for weeks. They sound just as brainless as the creatures we¡¯ve been slaughtering.¡±

    The knight scoffed. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten too comfortable in the routine, Dowager. This is war. Things change. If you want to win, you adapt. The goblins want to charge at you recklessly? Great, kill them. A new creature appears to have taken command of them? A complication that you accept and adapt your strategies to. It wants to parley? Good. The fewer lives lost, the better.

    ¡°Perhaps we can figure out why they¡¯re on our shores in the first place. I find the explanation given by the marquis hard to swallow, at the very least. Who cares how it learned Common? Thank the saints you can communicate with words rather than drawing pictures in the mud.¡±

    Dowager frowned. Suddenly, he was a boy again, holding a wooden sword in one of the palace¡¯s courtyards while the royal knight lectured him. He mentally shrugged away the feeling. It¡¯d be too embarrassing to make the same mistake so soon. ¡°You¡¯re saying I should focus on the pertinent information and worry about the specifics later.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Right now, we need to get the men moving. The small groups we have posted throughout the area couldn¡¯t handle the normal greenies if the things weren¡¯t half mad. Now, there¡¯s more of them and they might have leadership. If their patience runs out before we get there, it¡¯ll be a massacre.¡±

    The prince nodded sharply. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± He called for the guard outside his tent. ¡°Have the men break down camp. We need to be moving in an hour if we want to get there before nightfall.¡±

    ¡°You should find that messenger who brought you the report,¡± the knight said after the man ran off. ¡°They¡¯re trained to give the pertinent information as quick as possible, but you should wring him for everything he knows. While the specifics might not matter so much in war, they certainly do in negotiation.¡±

    -

    Dowager managed to arrive at the outpost before nightfall. The messenger hadn¡¯t lied. Waiting beyond the reach of normal spells but still close enough to be visible was an army so large, it reminded him of the plains near the capital during spring. Nothing but green as far as the eyes could see.

    Dowager had experienced many things during his battle. Mostly frustration. Seeing the enemy he had to face, meandering back and forth but standing in the vague semblance of a formation for the first time, he felt¡­not fear. Goblins weren¡¯t something to be feared. But something had an uncomfortable grip on his guts.

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    The outposts had crude walls made of earth magic surrounding them on four sides. It took all his earth casters to maintain them but there wasn¡¯t much else they could do. His caster told him working with the sodden earth was too mana intensive to use in battle.

    Dowager watched the enemy army from atop one of them for several minutes, reassuring himself that they weren¡¯t making a move. His people told him that the enemy commander had guaranteed their safety at night and would send another envoy in the morning. It was hard to believe after the suicidal zeal he¡¯d faced for days but they appeared to be keeping their word.

    Realizing he had people to keep eyes on the enemy¡¯s movements, Dowager descended from the wall and made his way to the command tent. Even with magic, they couldn¡¯t build temporary barricades to house all the men. As the commander, and as the prince, it made sense for him to be in the most defensible location. There wasn¡¯t much space but the men had made some anyway.

    Waiting inside his tent was Sir Quintana, the messenger, and the captain in charge of the outpost. They stopped their conversation as he entered. The captain bowed his head respectfully and the messenger was quick to follow with widened eyes. No doubt remembering his lack of etiquette during their previous conversation.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for that,¡± Dowager said. ¡°We have things to discuss. Captain, I want to hear about your meeting with this new creature.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Highness.¡± The man raised his head with a frown. ¡°It came to us when the sun was high. Normally, we would never let an unknown approach our position, but its gait was deliberate and it purposely made itself visible. When it got within our range, it held up its hands and we could see it had no weapons. It stopped far from the walls and shouted its message.¡±

    ¡°And the message? As close to the literal words as possible.¡±

    ¡°It said that enough blood had been shed. That it wanted the fighting to stop before blood became a grudge. It said that the next battle would not be a grinder but a proper fight, where both sides would lose blood. If we want to avoid that, then our leader should speak with theirs to speak of peace.¡±

    ¡°Peace? These things invade our kingdom and want to speak of peace?¡±

    The captain nodded, his expression reflecting Dowager¡¯s disgust. ¡°There is no need to negotiate with these creatures. Even if they move together, the goblins are hardly a threat. I was concerned about them slipping past our perimeter, but a child armed with a strong stick could take them down. But¡­these new creatures. We don¡¯t know what they can do. Given the level of the goblins, I doubt we¡¯re fighting master casters¡ª"

    ¡°But you could be,¡± Sir Quintana interjected. ¡°Any assumption can be dangerous in war. What are our new enemies like?¡±

    ¡°The one that approached us was a female.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    The captain raised a brow. ¡°It was rather obvious, sir.¡±

    ¡°I see. Continue.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, a female. Same basic shape as a human. By that, I mean she had a head, two arms, and two legs. Built like a soldier.¡± He eyed the knight. ¡°Which I knew because she approached without any armor, only a chest wrap and a fur skirt.

    ¡°Her skin was speckled, a mix of greens, browns, and yellows that looked like natural camouflage. If it was paint, it was very intricate. She had a large brow, a snout-like nose, and two large teeth poking out of its mouth. It had hair but was bald along the sides of its head. Had real prominent ears too. To be honest sirs, the first thing I thought when I saw the creature was that it looked like a boar had bred with a woman.¡±

    Dowager scowled at the image the words brought to mind. ¡°This boar woman. How was her Common? Was it rough and broken? Smooth?¡±

    ¡°Smooth. I was quite surprised. There are men in my unit that can¡¯t speak so well.¡± The captain looked between the prince and the knights whose expressions had darkened. ¡°Does that mean something?¡±

    ¡°It does.¡± Sir Quintana sighed. ¡°You can learn a language from a book but no matter how detailed it is or how smart the person, the language is always rough¡­unless you have someone to guide you or hang around someone who speaks it fluently long enough.¡±

    ¡°What that means,¡± Dowager continued, ¡°is that these creatures didn¡¯t learn by chancing upon a book or scroll by chance. They had to be taught by someone who speaks it. Since Common is the child of all the ancient languages spoken by the founders, there are only two groups that could have taught them.¡±

    ¡°Two?¡± Sir Quintana asked. ¡°I can only think of the Guiness.¡±

    ¡°The second is the elves. You know the Tome girl.¡±

    The knight winced. ¡°The one my disciple got involved with, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Her¡­wife is an elf.¡± The prince shook his head. Even after several months, he still didn¡¯t quite understand that situation. ¡°From what little they shared of their encounter, we know Lourianne Tome didn¡¯t teach her Common. That means at least some of their number know the language and could have taught it to those savages.¡±

    ¡°If another race is involved in this¡­¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to say any more, captain.¡± Dowager knew better than anyone in the tent what it would mean for the kingdom if the elves were plotting against them. Kierra Atainna was nothing like the little monsters pushing through the mud to throw themselves to their deaths. If the elven soldiers were half as strong as she was, they were outclassed. They could also have pure affinities. If Harvest went to war with an elven nation, it would not be pretty. Especially if they weren¡¯t prepared.

    ¡°It seems there¡¯s a reason to talk to this creature after all.¡±

 Miniarc-Beyond Borders-03

    Morning dawned. Breakfast was cold rations, even for the prince, and no one walked around without their armor. Despite the invaders wanting to talk, Dowager didn¡¯t expect their negotiations to end with a peaceful outcome. What he did expect was a long day of fighting and he wanted the men to be ready.

    Shortly after his lackluster meal, a messenger reported that the enemy commander was outside their walls. Dowager went to meet her with Sir Quintana behind him. He hoped that only bringing one man would make him seem like he was cooperating wholeheartedly with the creature¡¯s farce. Truthfully, the knight was better protection than the whole of the army at their back.

    If this was a trap, the prince had no doubt that the knight would be able to foil it on his own. And though he swore he would not intervene unless the situation was dire, Dowager half-hoped that an attempt on his life would incite the ex-royal knight to action. The biggest threat about the army waiting for them was not their numbers but their potential command structure. Getting rid of an officer would make the ensuing battle much easier.

    The meeting was meant to take place just outside the walls of the outpost. Dowager had thought that the enemy commander to be either stupid or idealistic to fearlessly walk before another army with no protection and demand parley. Nothing but Harvest¡¯s honor had kept them from shooting the creature down. Something an intelligent mind had to understand.

    That meant the creature was idealistic. Perhaps with an inflated ideal about what humanity was. Dowager didn¡¯t blame them. He could imagine what their society was like to produce the half-mad army that threw themselves to their deaths without hesitation and if his ideas were anywhere close to the truth, it was no wonder the creature saw all of humanity as saints.

    The enemy commander was not hard to find, standing brazenly in the open without a single shred of cover to protect her. The captain hadn¡¯t exaggerated. Her curves were rather suggestive about her gender. The rest of his description was just as accurate. She looked like a boar had mated with a woman and both had passed on their features in a surprisingly harmonious blend.

    The creature was by no means attractive, saints blind anyone with such a thought, but it wasn¡¯t the absolute horror he was imaging. Even the two abnormally large teeth jutting out from the bottom half of her jaw that resembled a pair of tusks rather closely, were more of an oddity than a deformity.

    The boarwoman waited with her large arms crossed. Her eyes moved between Dowager and Sir Quintana as they stopped in front of her. Dowager thought she frowned but it was a little hard to read her emotions. The teeth made it hard to judge the movements of her lips and the rest of her face didn¡¯t move the way he was used to.

    ¡°Which one of you is the leader?¡± she asked in a deep voice. Not masculine, just lower than he would expect from a woman. Though, taking in how large she was, he thought it suited her much more than the high voice of a noblewoman.

    ¡°I am Dowager kor Harvest, the first prince of Harvest.¡±

    ¡°Er, princes are leaders then?¡±

    Dowager lowered his estimation of the boarwoman¡¯s knowledge. ¡°Yes. Would you care to introduce yourself?¡±

    ¡°Lesley.¡± The boarwoman made a strange chuffing sound at the face the prince made. ¡°Took a more human name when I left home. Doubt you could say my tribe name properly and mispronouncing it is an insult. Not good for negotiation.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then, Lesley.¡± Dowager straightened up. ¡°You insisted that we parley. Before we negotiate an outcome, I have several questions for you. Starting with why you¡¯ve brought an army to the shores of my kingdom.¡±

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    ¡°Question for question. I answer one of yours, then you answer one of mine. Fair?¡±

    ¡°¡­I won¡¯t give away sensitive information.¡±

    ¡°If you can¡¯t answer, I¡¯ll ask another question.¡±

    Dowager huffed. Rather than a negotiation between two commanders, he felt like he was talking with a thug over a mug in one of the dirty taverns ruffians of the sort frequented. He felt dirty. The first prince of the kingdom didn¡¯t often think of himself as an elitist. At the very least, he tried not to let his position cloud his perception of people.

    Soldiers were mainly commoners. How could he lead and bring out the best in them when he couldn¡¯t recognize their worth? For that, he made a point to treat everyone with respect without compromising the dignity of a ruler. He tried, but he didn¡¯t always succeed.

    ¡°Fine. I asked my question first.¡±

    The boarwoman chuffed. He wasn¡¯t sure but Dowger thought it was how the creature laughed. ¡°In my home, the tribes have grown too large. The, hm. Best word in human is scavenger. The little ones belong to the Scavenger Tribe, the most numerous. There are so many, the tribes make the youngest ones fight daily.

    ¡°Weeds out the weak. That is not enough anymore. To make sure the rest of their people don¡¯t starve, the Scavenger Tribe leaders sent away the weakest members. The tribe shamans told them to come here, as certain death awaited anywhere else.¡±

    Dowager grit his teeth. Her words sounded like the little bastards had invaded Harvest because it was the easiest target. It was beyond frustrating to think that the world was underestimating his kingdom. ¡°Are you part of this Scavenger Tribe too?¡±

    ¡°My turn to ask question, prince. Or do you not keep your word?¡±

    The prince forced himself to take a deep breath. ¡°You¡¯re right. I forgot myself. Ask your question.¡±

    ¡°Does your kingdom only have humans?¡±

    Dowager opened his mouth but hesitated before giving his answer. The creature had questioned his honor. That made him hesitant to lie. He would likely slay boarwoman and her army by the end of the day. What she knew didn¡¯t matter but he would always remember using dishonorable methods. ¡°I need you to make your question more specific if you want me to answer.¡±

    Lesley huffed. ¡°Citizens of your kingdom. The ones who live on your land and are protected by your laws. Are they all human or do other races live within your borders?¡±

    ¡°This is a human kingdom.¡± A very strange question for an enemy. It was more in-line with a refugee looking for sanctuary but that thought was ridiculous. He was about to repeat his earlier question but stopped. ¡°Why are you leading this army?¡±

    Lesley smiled. ¡°Good question. Answer is very long. I don¡¯t think you want to hear my life story so I¡¯ll keep it simple. My tribe didn¡¯t like my ideas so they kicked me out. I found the scavengers about to be shipped away and offered to lead them. The ones behind me are those who accepted. My question now. Would your kingdom accept citizens of another race?¡±

    The prince had to call on years of etiquette not to let his thoughts show on his face. ¡°In the five hundred years of our kingdom¡¯s history, it has never happened. However, my father is a man who cares for our traditions. To go against centuries of practice, any¡­race wanting to join our kingdom would have to bring significant benefits. They would also have to prove their loyalty. Since the Great War, it has been hard to trust those not of our kind. That is the bare minimum required for him to entertain the idea.¡±

    Dowager didn¡¯t mention that though his father might entertain such a possibility, he¡¯d never accept it. For many reasons. Chief of which being that he would face too much criticism from the nobles. They had always made his life difficult. Accepting refugees from another kingdom would make them revolt.

    Dowager didn¡¯t dislike his father¡¯s more passive nature to ruling. There was nothing wrong with ruling through reason. The kingdom¡¯s progress had stalled as the different powers battled against each other, rather than working together, but the king kept the kingdom together. That was more than some leaders could manage. History was full of noble houses that had fallen because their patriarchs had reached for more than they could handle. The prince would rather his father have little ambition than have his ambition endanger Harvest.

    ¡°Then, my next question. Will the tribes retaliate for the lives loss on our shores?¡±

    ¡°No. To them, the ones here are trash. Whether they live or die means nothing.¡±

    ¡°Harsh.¡±

    Lesley shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture. ¡°Then, my question. Do you find me attractive?¡±

 Miniarc-Beyond Borders-04

    Dowager¡¯s training failed him. Lesley chuffed as his expression twisted with his disgust. He managed to smooth his features a moment later but he¡¯d already exposed himself. ¡°I hope you are not offended if I tell you no.¡±

    ¡°Not offended. That¡¯s the answer I wanted to hear.¡±

    It was the first time in Dowager¡¯s life a woman was happy to be called unattractive. He grew tired of their game. ¡°What do you hope to accomplish by talking with me?¡±

    ¡°I want to stop the senseless fighting and help both our people. We need land. You have land.¡± She looked around at the muddy hell. ¡°Too much of it, I think. Next question. Are your tastes in mates normal for human men?¡±

    ¡°Saints! Of course my tastes are normal!¡± Dowager grit his teeth as the boarwoman turned to Sir Quintana. He couldn¡¯t read her expression well, but it was obvious that she was looking for confirmation, as if she couldn¡¯t believe him. He¡¯d have to be crazy to want anything to do with the creature in that way. The thought was as disturbing as it was disgusting. ¡°Why do you keep asking about my attraction to you?¡± he snapped, his frustration getting the better of him.

    ¡°¡­long ago, my tribe suffered a great tragedy because another race desired us for mates. Countless generations have passed and we have yet to recover. The last thing I want is for something similar to happen.¡±

    Dowager almost gagged. The thought of someone, let alone an entire race, desiring the two-legged pig strongly enough to cause a tragedy was incomprehensible but the conviction in her tone sounded genuine. If Lesley was a liar, she was a phenomenal one.

    ¡°I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about. While humanity has its¡­oddities, the overwhelmingly vast majority will not be interested. At all.¡±

    ¡°That is good. Ask your next question, prince.¡±

    ¡°What will it take to make you leave peacefully?¡±

    The boarwoman grunted. ¡°Nothing. We can stay peacefully but we cannot leave. There is nowhere to return to and the journey would kill us. If we¡¯re going to die, we will die fighting, not wasting away over the water.¡±

    ¡°Then you know you¡¯re going to lose?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s two quest¡ª"

    ¡°You can ask two as well.¡±

    Lesley laughed. ¡°Fine, prince. I know I can beat your little army though that one makes me nervous.¡± She inclined her head toward his protector. ¡°However, I can¡¯t beat a kingdom. Negotiation will be harder if your people suffer significant loss so I want to talk now.¡±

    Her confidence annoyed him. It wasn¡¯t the bragging of an arrogant noble with more pride in their last name than their abilities. She¡¯d spoken about her inevitable victory with the same matter-of-fact tone that she¡¯d used when relating simple facts about the goblins. There was so much certainty in it that he couldn¡¯t help wondering if she had good reason to be confident.

    ¡°It¡¯s time for my questions now. Do you know of the race that lives on the land to the south of your kingdom?¡±

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    ¡°We know of them.¡± One of his intentions for accepting the meeting was to probe into possible cooperation with their neighbors. It was interesting that she¡¯d brought up the subject before him. ¡°They are known to us as elves. Colorful skin, long ears.¡±

    ¡°That is them.¡± Her tone made it clear that she didn¡¯t like the elves but that didn¡¯t preclude cooperation between them. His father had to work with men he despised every day. Everyone hated the Grimoires but before their sudden collapse, there wasn¡¯t a person in the capital who would refuse them entrance to their businesses and homes. ¡°Do you have an alliance or any other form of cooperation with those animals?¡±

    Dowager amended his opinion. Lesley didn¡¯t just dislike the elves. She hated them. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Good. Very good. Then there is a chance there can be peace after all. I think that is enough with our little game. Do you agree, prince?¡±

    ¡°¡­I believe I have all the pertinent information. Shall I summarize our positions? You are refugees fleeing uncaring rulers, looking for land to settle. I am a prince sent to remove the invaders within our kingdom. We are at an impasse.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see. A prince is a little leader. You have no authority to go against your orders or grant us land.¡±

    Dowager didn¡¯t like having his lack of authority thrown in his face but the simple truth was he wasn¡¯t king yet. ¡°As you say.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t ask you to disobey your orders. I ask that you delay. My army will stay put in this area while you send a message to your tribe chief. Let him hear our petition before we kill one another.¡±

    ¡°My prince, a moment.¡±

    Before he could respond, Dowager¡¯s shoulder was grabbed by Sir Quintana and he was dragged backward. The knight¡¯s eyes glowed but Dowager saw no evidence of magic. ¡°Forgive the rough handling, Your Highness but we need to have a quick discussion about what we do next.¡±

    The prince shrugged off the hand on his shoulder. ¡°I am not a reckless boy anymore. I know very well that this has gone beyond a prince playing at war. We¡¯ll agree to the boar¡ªto Lesley¡¯s proposal and have a messenger deliver their petition of sanctuary to my father.¡±

    ¡°I suggest you don¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    The prince gaped at the knight as the other man spoke with cold logic. ¡°That¡¯s an army out there. I don¡¯t care what their intentions are. Each day we leave them be, the deeper they¡¯ll entrench themselves. We also don¡¯t know what goblins can do with a proper leader. Maybe this Lesley doesn¡¯t want to fight. Or maybe she¡¯s buying time. Either way, I don¡¯t like the idea of leaving an enemy to its own devices.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t just slaughter people asking for sanctuary,¡± Dowager hissed, appalled by what he was hearing.

    ¡°Fine. Don¡¯t kill them. Cripple them. Take out seventy percent of the army and detain the other thirty.¡±

    ¡°You expect a peaceful negotiation after that?!¡±

    ¡°Why not? You heard her. They¡¯re out of options. Thirty percent of that army is more than enough to build a settlement if the king decides to grant them amnesty. If he doesn¡¯t, thirty percent isn¡¯t a threat.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m surprised by you, Sir Quintana.¡±

    The knight scoffed. ¡°Why? Because I wore the golden armor? I was a soldier before that. I may not have fought wars on the regular but there¡¯s been plenty of times when I¡¯ve needed to make hard decisions. Decisions that had no room for supposed honor. You need to think about the consequences of your choices. All of them.

    ¡°If we fight this battle, we may take significant casualties. Maybe we lose. But if they manage to develop a foothold in this area, a few thousand casualties can be doubled or tripled. You remember Aggro?¡±

    ¡°Surely you aren¡¯t comparing goblins to the strongest manabeast on the continent?¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t of the same magnitude, but the essence of the threat is the same. The worst advantage an enemy can have is a stronghold. Numbers can¡¯t compare. And there¡¯s a bigger concern. That, er, female mentioned the elves. She clearly has a grudge against them. There¡¯s a chance they could have a grudge against her people. Now, I haven¡¯t personally clashed with the princess prancing around our kingdom, but she has a pure affinity and her skills were acknowledged by Dunwayne. I¡¯d rather face five times as many goblins as the ones we can see than someone with her skills. You accepting Lesley¡¯s proposal may get you a real war.¡±

    The knight sighed. ¡°Look, all of that is just me justifying my gut. I don¡¯t like this. I don¡¯t like this so much, I¡¯m willing to join the fight. No more waiting for you to get into trouble. But, I¡¯m not the commander. It¡¯s your decision, Your Highness.¡±

 Miniarc-Beyond Borders-05

    Dowager asked for a break to consider the situation more deeply. Lesley seemed annoyed by the delay but acquiesced when he offered her lunch. For all her pretense at civility, she scarfed down the dry rations offered to her like a beast. The prince who was raised using three different forks for dinner couldn¡¯t look at the gnashing teeth without feeling sick to his stomach. Imagining such a sight happening throughout the kingdom was enough to make him want to send the boarwoman away but Dowager wasn¡¯t so petty as to let his personal feelings interfere with matters of state.

    In truth, he wanted to follow his protector¡¯s advice. Lesley put on a good show, but he didn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, think of the goblins as anything more than the suicidal savages that had thrown themselves on his men¡¯s swords with mindless fury. Perhaps desperation had caused them to take leave of their senses temporarily but he¡¯d yet to see any sign of intelligence in the creatures.

    Standing together beyond the range of their arrows didn¡¯t count. A dog could be taught to sit and stay but the kingdom didn¡¯t let them own land. Dowager feared that accepting their request for sanctuary would be inviting a green wave of chaos into the kingdom. One that might have the potential to drown them. Sir Quintana was right when he said Dowager didn¡¯t know what they were really capable of and the prince didn¡¯t want to find out.

    Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t know how he could refuse to contact his father. The problem had nothing to do with the invaders but with the authority of the crown. This was simply not a decision that anyone besides the king should make.

    If Dowager were to take charge of the situation, it would be the equivalent of declaring himself his father¡¯s equal. A very dangerous thing and an opportunity the troublemakers amongst those in power wouldn¡¯t lose. His father had enough trouble asserting his rule over the more powerful nobles without someone spreading rumors of a coup.

    Sir Quintana understood when Dowager explained his reasoning, but he wasn¡¯t happy. ¡°This is why I stayed a knight. Useless titles only get in the way of the work.¡±

    Dowager wasn¡¯t happy having the word king being called a useless title, as it would one day belong to him, but he understood the knight¡¯s frustration. While he didn¡¯t resent his father¡¯s ruling style, he did blame his weak reign for the current situation. He should not have to worry about appearances when the kingdom¡¯s safety was at stake. When he wore the crown, the nobles would know better than to scheme against him.

    It was with great reluctance that the two men returned to the boarwoman. Lesley had waited for them to finish their discussion while seated on the ground, her arms crossed and her head bowed. She looked up when they took the first step toward her, climbing to her feet when she was sure they were approaching. ¡°Finished? Have you made a decision?¡±

    Dowager forced himself not to sigh. ¡°We are willing to agree to a ceasefire.¡± He was slightly mollified by the boarwoman¡¯s sigh of relief. He might¡¯ve done something unbecoming if the creature was smug about her victory. ¡°Under a few conditions.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Firstly, your army will surrender all weapons.¡±

    Lesley snorted, a disgustingly pig-like sound. ¡°Weapons? We have no weapons.¡±

    ¡°Then we will verify that. You will open your camp to us and we will search it. Including personal belongings and everyone in it. Which brings me to my second condition. Your¡­people will be put under guard. We will be reorganizing your camp and my men will supervise them. To make sure things are as they appear to be.¡±

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    The more they talked, the better Dowager got at reading Lesley¡¯s emotions. Rather than her lips, he could tell from the flaring of her wide nostrils that she was upset, matching the gesture to her tone. ¡°You want us to be under your power. Power can be abused.¡±

    ¡°I assure you, the royal army conducts itself with dignity.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know your royal army, but I know leaders. They will do anything if they can get away it. Someone has to watch them.¡± She turned to Sir Quintana. ¡°That one is strong. He listens when I talk. Let him watch the camp. He seems good enough and is strong enough to watch the others who are not so good.¡±

    ¡°Sir Quintana isn¡¯t¡­someone who can remain here.¡±

    ¡°¡­you don¡¯t think we¡¯re worth a strong warrior.¡±

    Dowager kept his silence but no answer was answer enough.

    ¡°This is not good, prince. You ask us to trust ourselves to you but do not want to give us someone trustworthy.¡±

    The prince felt his temper spike and struggled to keep his tone neutral. ¡°You have come to this kingdom, looking for sanctuary. You want to be citizens of Harvest. If so, the bare minimum required is to bow before the crown¡¯s authority and as the first prince, I wield that authority. We are no longer negotiating. I am telling what will happen. If you refuse, then you will become simple invaders again and we will return to our respective armies as enemies.¡±

    Dowager was ready for the woman to be angry. He would have liked it if she were cowled. Instead, she was silent. Quiet as the dead as she stared at him intensely. The prince resisted the urge to squirm or look away.

    ¡°Alright, prince,¡± she finally said. ¡°You gave us this chance, we will obey. Are there any more conditions?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Thirdly, I will return to the capital and you will be coming with me. You are the message.¡±

    Again, she took the condition with surprising grace. ¡°You want to separate the leader from the army. Smart but unnecessary. We won¡¯t be fighting. I will come.¡±

    ¡°¡­you seem confident.¡±

    ¡°The tribes have much to offer. I was only concerned that your people would swing your swords without seeing us. Now we have an opportunity. As long as there is a chance, the tribes will prevail.¡±

    The boarwoman¡¯s faith in her abilities remained unsettling but things were going well. He expected more resistance. She was the only thing that separated the mob behind them from the senseless creatures that had died in droves with no effort from his men.

    ¡°Good. Return to your people, make your arrangements. Tomorrow morning, you will surrender yourself to my men. We will stay long enough for me to ensure that my men have your camp under control. Then we leave for the capital.¡± He was rushing things a little but if they weren¡¯t going to fight, he wanted out of the south as soon as possible.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    The boarwoman proved once more that her civility was an act as she turned to go without so much as a respectful nod. ¡°Wait!¡± the prince shouted, a sudden curiosity grabbing hold of him. ¡°You seem to take pride in your people,¡± he said as she looked over her shoulder. ¡°Seeing you, I believe there may be something more to the tribes than¡­what I¡¯ve witnessed.¡±

    ¡°You mean the ones you killed. Do not worry. That is not who I ask your leader to welcome. We are different.¡±

    ¡°How? You look the same.¡± He grimaced. ¡°The people you lead do.¡±

    Lesley huffed. ¡°We are different here.¡± A thick finger twice the width of his own pointed at her head. ¡°The tribes, they sent away the weak. Weak in body, weak in mind. Those who cannot think and those with no will. The ones you killed were those with broken minds and broken wills. They cannot trust me who tells them they can have a future where they do not have to fight for crumbs. That they can live with pride. So, I put them on different boats. Let them die as they please.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t try to save them?¡±

    ¡°Save them? I am still fighting to save myself and the others. I am not so strong as to change people who don¡¯t want to change themselves. Any more questions, prince?¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡±

    ¡°Then I will see you in the morning.¡±

    Sir Quintana stepped up to his side. ¡°Not so savage, eh?¡± he asked as they watched her walk back to her people.

    Dowager slowly nodded. He hated to admit it but the boarwoman had reminded him of the army officers he¡¯d admired as a boy. She spoke with the honor of someone entrusted with lives and took that responsibility seriously.

    Maybe there really was something more to the savages than they presented. He didn¡¯t know if they belonged in Harvest but for the first time, he held the slightest hope that he wouldn¡¯t regret his decision.

 Miniarc-Beyond Borders-06

    The next morning, Lesley appeared outside the walls of the outpost early. She waited for Dowager to wake and meet her, unwilling to surrender herself to anyone besides the army¡¯s commander. Once he did show up, she allowed herself to be detained without comment, holding out her wrists while Sir Quintana bound her arms up to the elbows. An effective deterrent against the boarwoman¡¯s obvious strength but something easily circumvented through magic.

    Unfortunately, there was no way to check Lesley¡¯s magical acumen. When they interrogated her, she said she was a pugilist with a small core and practically no experience using it. The prince had his doubts. He could believe that their society was rather ignorant, but no creature could ignore the power of magic. Every living being used it. Even insects. The boarwoman wanted him to believe that they had forsaken the use of magic when worms and ants coveted it?

    When he expressed his disbelief, she explained that it was a personal choice but that didn¡¯t soothe his doubts. She was a commander, a leader. Not just of goblins. One did not get the courage to waltz into a kingdom and negotiate with a prince from wrangling green pests. He would wager his future crown that Lesley was someone of importance amongst her original tribe.

    Historically, importance was linked to magic. Even if her talent with mana was abysmal and her affinities basic, she would have been trained. If only for moments like the one she was experiencing. Containing a trained caster was infinitely more difficult than detaining someone without the ability to cast a decent spell.

    Dowager assumed she was hiding her abilities. Something he understood. While they were cooperating, in a sense, they were far from allies and further from trusting one another. The best he could do was make sure capable men watched her at all times.

    The good news was that she would be alone when traveling with them to the capital. Unless she was a master caster on the level of Dunwayne, she wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything against the soldiers escorting them and Sir Quintana. If she did have that much power, she would have used that to negotiate as opposed to throwing herself on their mercy. A master caster certainly brought more value than an army of savages.

    After her interrogation, Dowager accompanied her to her camp. The prince had no expectations, but the goblins still managed to betray them. He was right. All they could manage was remaining in an area, like trained dogs. There was no other semblance of order.

    Most of the goblins lounged in the mud, seemingly unbothered by the wet earth and bugs buzzing over their heads. Some of them milled about, walking to different groups of the creatures with their small arms full of rocks and random assortments of greenery. Their arrival was always met by hoots and hollering. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Dowager finally asked after witnessing the strange sight for the dozenth time.

    ¡°Scavenger tribe are gatherers. The weakest members go out to find food for the others,¡± Lesley answered after glancing in the direction of the finger he pointed at one of the groups.

    ¡°Food? Those things are carrying rocks and weeds.¡±

    ¡°Scavengers have strong noses when it comes to food and stronger stomachs. They can eat some rocks and anything that grows. That is food.¡±

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    ¡°¡­you¡¯re kidding.¡±

    ¡°It is their greatest strength. They have the most undesirable land but the largest numbers. No matter what, the Scavengers always eat.¡±

    An enviable trait for any being. Dowager supposed that the world had given them what they needed to survive, not thrive. Pests tended to be hardy and the goblins were no exception. ¡°I see.¡±

    It didn¡¯t take long for the prince to become bored with examining the camp. It was hard to maintain his focus when there was no camp to see and the goblins he was meant to be wary of were literally sleeping the day away without a care in the world. He hurried their pace and finished the tour within an hour. ¡°What do you think, captain?¡±

    In his absence, the captain of the outpost would take command of the army. Unlike the prince, he had managed to maintain his serious demeanor, frowning severely as they walked away from the goblins. ¡°The goblins don¡¯t seem like they¡¯ll give the men any trouble. The problem is containing them all. The ground is so soft we can¡¯t even drive a post into it and there¡¯s no way our casters can erect walls to surround them.¡±

    In his many dreams of his first battle, Dowager had never contemplated building a holding to detain prisoners of war. In the stories, generals captured enemy commanders and held them for ransom. They exchanged stories and witty remarks over sophisticated games and strong drinks. They became rivals, friends defined by their enmity, their many conflicts driving both higher. In the end, one died to the better man and the victor named his first son after the fallen.

    The goblins were not rivals. They had nothing to offer him. Detaining them was the same as fencing in a bunch of rats to keep them from scattering. Something no military officer trained for. Yet, it had to be done. As Sir Quintana said, war was about adapting. ¡°Any good ideas?¡±

    ¡°They will not go anywhere if ordered to stay,¡± Lesley said.

    ¡°That is not a good idea.¡± Dowager briefly wondered if they should even be having the conversation in front of the boarwoman but dismissed the concern. She wouldn¡¯t be returning to her army. Prisoners couldn¡¯t break out of dungeons even if they knew how the bars were put into place. He turned to the one most likely to have a good idea. ¡°Sir Quintana?¡±

    The knight huffed. ¡°Haven¡¯t done much fighting in the south, prince. Seems the only thing you can do is sacrifice the earth and water casters. The walls don¡¯t have to be that tall.¡±

    ¡°That does seem to be the best way¡­¡±

    Lesley snorted. ¡°Question. Will you feed them? If they are not allowed to search for food, they will starve.¡±

    Dowager felt a headache coming on as he considered it. ¡°A group of soldiers will escort a few of them to gather food then.¡±

    ¡°What about water?¡±

    ¡°They can drink the water pulled from the mud,¡± Sir Quintana said before the prince could become anymore frustrated. ¡°Besides, if they starve, they starve. All we have to do is make sure they live, not make them comfortable.¡±

    The boarwoman made a sound of displeasure but didn¡¯t offer any comment in rebuttal. Dowager was thankful for it. It wasn¡¯t very princely, but he was ready to hand over the whole mess to the captain. When the time came to lead glorious charges against the enemy, he¡¯d be the first to volunteer. Overseeing prisoner camps was a duty he¡¯d just as gladly hand to the next man. Even the greatest generals had adjutants that handled the tedious aspects of war. As a king, delegation was an essential skill.

    They returned to the outpost. Dowager met with the officers and they discussed their plans for the camp in detail, amending their plan to send reinforcements as soon as possible. At night, Lesley was loaded onto a covered carriage, the rope binding her arms replaced by manacles chained to the floor. Finally, the prince walked amongst the men, checking on their moral. None were happy but they were far from worried. Many hoped that the ceasefire would end soon, one way or the other, and they could go home.

    With all matters in hand, the prince retired. For the first time, he went to bed with a smile. Tomorrow, he would be leaving the wet hellhole. Hopefully, never to return.

 Miniarc-Beyond Borders-07

    Far enough from the goblin army that the humans would never think to search the area, a shadow moved through the sparse trees, leaving deep prints in the soft mud. A pair of eyes glowed in the gloom of the night as the figure walked into a shallow pool one of the trees stood in and the water moved aside, revealing compacted earth. They stomped on the hard earth three times and it opened, revealing steps carved into the stone. The figure descended into the darkness and the earth covered them, the water of the pool moving back into place above them.

    A hand covered a snout-like nose as they entered a large cavern. Despite its size, it was too small for the group it contained. The Root Tribe weren¡¯t the biggest inhabitants of Green Mountain, but they were far from the smallest. Especially the males. They were as thick around as logs and two heads taller than the females. If only they had the brains to match the size of their tusks. Unfortunately, they were all as dumb as the rocks that blessed them.

    A small fire burned away in a pit in the middle of the room, providing a middling amount of light. Three females lounged around it, the flames illuminating their serious faces. The one who wore the deepest frown was a female with speckled skin, covered in spots of green, brown, and yellow that would have been great camouflage if they were home. One of her tusks was chipped from a previous battle and a jagged scar on one side of her face proclaimed her as a warrior, one of the few females that had chosen the road of a combatant over that of a matriarch.

    Beside her sat a female with wine-red skin interspersed with splotches of purple the color of a bruise. The skull of a creature with the branching horns covered most of her face and a large black fur hung over her shoulders. Fading black tattoos were drawn along her arms, intricate shapes and swirls that didn¡¯t form a recognizable picture.

    The last female was a rare bright blue with splotches of white, calling to mind a cloudy sky. Unlike the other females who wore their dark hair long, hers was just as white as the markings along her body and cut in a short bob. She was also the most dressed, wearing a pair of brown pants and dark vest. She lounged on her side, head cradled in the palm of one hand.

    They all looked up as the figure approached. The red-skinned female barked something, but the figure held up a hand. ¡°Please. We agreed to use our Common names. You especially need the practice, Edith.¡±

    Edith growled. ¡°Stupid name. Has no tradition. Are you not embarrassed to use such weak words to address yourself, Jasmine?¡±

    ¡°I quite like my common name,¡± the blue female interjected while sitting up.

    ¡°You like everything human, you freak,¡± the warrior grumbled. ¡°Edith is right. It is insulting but it¡¯s what must be done for victory so we will abide.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Cora. You will be happy to know that your sister¡¯s plan has, hm, worked without a hitch. The human leader has departed along with the strong warrior. They are off to the capital. The next part of the plan can proceed without issue.¡±

    ¡°She has the courage of any warrior,¡± Cora said, her fingers idly stroking her jagged scar.

    ¡°Going to the stronghold of the enemy is brave,¡± Edith grumbled. ¡°She will be remembered.¡±

    ¡°Whoa, you make it sound like she¡¯s already dead,¡± the blue female exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her. ¡°There¡¯s a chance this can all work out, right? That¡¯s why we agreed to do this Dh¡ªI mean, Lesley¡¯s way. Peace is the best outcome.¡±

    ¡°Sky is correct. Lesley is putting her life on the line for a peaceful future, not as a mere distraction.¡±

    ¡°But it is a distraction we will not waste. From what Lesley said, the prince was a, hm. Warrior for show? A useless sword. The problem was the warrior beside him. It is good that the prince took the problem with him. The enemy is without a champion.¡±

    ¡°We could take them tonight,¡± Cora said, the fire throwing menacing shadows over her scowl.

    ¡°We could¡­but we won¡¯t. That would be wasting Lesley¡¯s efforts. If we kill them now, a force many times stronger than the one watching the Swarm will come to take revenge. Now, they look at us, but they see nothing. We can build. Prepare. Then, we will be prepared for either peace or war.¡±

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    ¡°Yeah! With the, uh. What¡¯s the Common word for¡­¡± Sky gestured toward the corners of the cavern, where the males rested or noisily chewed on prey.

    ¡°Men,¡± Jasmine offered.

    Cora scoffed. ¡°They are not men. They are the cursed.¡±

    ¡°Shackled,¡± Edith hissed, her tone as grave as the warrior¡¯s was condescending.

    Jasmine shook her head. She didn¡¯t like them talking badly about the males of their tribe, but it was hard to argue with them. Ever since the Age of Domination centuries ago, their tribe had never been the same.

    The Root Tribe was blessed by the earth. Just like the roots of the world, they were born to burrow beneath the surface. Especially their males. Every one of them was born with a pure affinity and a talent for building their core. They had a sense for the bounties beneath the surface and had used that talent to make the Root Tribe the richest land in the world.

    They had also had a gift for construction and had built great palatial complexes with towers that touched the clouds and caverns that went deep into the earth. They had never been the strongest, but their reputation had been respected the world over.

    Until they came.

    The beasts with long ears. They raided the Root Tribe¡¯s towers and invaded their caverns. Despite their brutish appearances, the tribe were artisans. The beasts were fighters. Neither side was weak, but the savages reveled in battle like no other. When the tribe lost a champion, they balked and grieved. When one of the animals fell, the ones behind it laughed and charged with more energy. It was an impossible war to win.

    Eventually, the Root Tribe lost and the animals took their due. They wanted the earth¡¯s blessing. Many races had been jealous of their pure affinities but only the animals were crazy enough to subjugate them to use their population for breeding stock. They took a middling interest in the females, but they coveted the males like a man craved water in a desert. The beasts bound them and used them, producing generation after generation of new captors.

    It lasted for years. The matriarchs had to petition to be allowed to have children and the price they paid was surrendering their sons. All who refused were executed. Their sons endured far worse fates.

    They spent their lives bound. If they were well-behaved, the chains existed in their minds, their wills trained out of them. Those not broken were kept in physical bindings, chains and cages, until they learned to obey their masters. They did nothing but breed on command. Some never saw the light of day for years, according to the stories. The beasts used drugs that dulled the males¡¯ minds and forced their bodies to betray them. They spent their lives in sexual hazes that didn¡¯t allow them to have a single intelligent thought.

    Those the beasts rejected were sent back to the Root Tribe that were eager to accept them. After years of such treatment, their men, once the envy of the world, became as dumb as the rocks they moved. Little more than drooling brutes. The matriarchs saw it happening but could do nothing about it. Resistance meant death.

    The Great War, an event that devastated the world, came as a great boon to the tribe. The beasts that occupied their lands retreated, taking the males with them. By then, it was clear that mating with their males didn¡¯t improve the chance of having a child with the pure affinity, but the animals had developed a liking for the Root Tribe. They took their slaves with them, leaving only the rejects.

    The matriarchs took their broken sons and fled the conflicts, taking refuge with several other tribes on the continent that the human traders called Green Mountain. After several generations, they were nowhere close to their old prosperity and their men were just as dumb. They had tried all manner of ways to fix what was broken but nothing worked. Recently, a matriarch who had trained her physical affinity to a great level discovered why.

    The problem went beyond behavior. The men of the Root Tribe had been changed fundamentally. The matriarch didn¡¯t have enough knowledge to fix it, or even identify the problem, but, comparing their brains to a female¡¯s, she knew something was wrong. The problem was beyond their reach, but they knew which group might have an answer. The ones who broke them in the first place.

    Unfortunately, the Root Tribe knew the beasts wouldn¡¯t help them out of compassion. They only responded to might. Their previous strength was far beyond their reach and it wasn¡¯t enough anyway. So, they asked for help.

    It was simple to unite the tribes. The promise of more land was more than enough to motivate them to action. If they were lucky, they could bring the humans into the alliance. While they didn¡¯t have a fraction of the power the beasts supposedly wielded, quantity was a strength of its own. If they couldn¡¯t best the long ears, it was enough to overwhelm them.

    The humans could also remain neutral. The Root Tribe didn¡¯t care to make more enemies.

    But if the humans got in their way, then they would fuel the tribes¡¯ conquest. The first wave was a precursor to the true force. After the spring harvests, the Swarm would cross the sea in its entirety. Millions of the little green pests, along with the loci that turned them from creatures no better than rats to a tribe that had defended the largest territory of Green Mountain for centuries.

    It would be a lot of mouths to feed. Thankfully, they could eat anything. Including the flesh of their enemies.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-01

    The kingdom knew Quest as a city of the free. It was where hunters, wanderers, and free-thinkers gathered. Its people were strong and short-tempered, with a tradition that was irreverent of authority. Something romanticized in stories but caused no shortage of problems in reality.

    The family granted governance of the land and its surrounding territories wasn¡¯t given as a reward. Quest was hard to rule. Perhaps impossible. The various powers of the city allowed their lord to wield authority so he could deal with the unwanted things that came with power. The bureaucracy. The responsibility. Hunters cared for little more than power and gold. If they were in charge of mundane matters, the city would collapse in a week.

    A status quo shaken by the events of what the locals called The Wild Night. A few hours where two women and their creatures rampaged through the streets, making mockeries of both the city and the hunters that lived in it. The aftermath left the hunters ravenous for revenge but their target fled the city before justice could be administered.

    Without a legitimate target, the anger of those left behind became indiscriminate. They railed against all those who refused to take action; the Grand Hall, their lord, and their guildmasters. Crime rates went up. People were hurt. Properties were damaged. The lord was forced to take action.

    A curfew was enacted and the city¡¯s guards took to the streets. They were reluctant to fight against the hunters but they couldn¡¯t rest on their asses when the man who paid their salaries called them to action. Scuffles with the rowdier hunters became a nightly routine and did nothing to stop the crime wave. Quest became a hotbed of mounting tensions. No one without confidence in their strength felt comfortable walking the streets after sunset.

    In a discreet building during one such riotous night, Callan Atkinson stood before a tall mirror and examined his reflection. Slim fingers combed through his dark hair before adjusting his robes. They were intricate things, the white fabric lined with gold and the stylistic head of a lion on the back.

    It was the kind of clothing rich men wore. Important men. Callan wasn¡¯t either but becoming more so each day. Until then, he traded on his potential. His coffers weren¡¯t completely empty. Enough to add one suitable addition to his wardrobe.

    Clothes really made the man. They both distracted from and enhanced his face. Callan thought of himself as a handsome man but more that he had no unattractive features than an array of appealing ones. His wasn¡¯t a face that would draw stares when he walked down a road but one no one would turn away after seeing him.

    Nowhere close to the imperial beauty of the elf he desired above all else. Hers was a face that could drive a man to ruin. Physically, he was not her equal, but if he wrapped himself in enough power, influence and luxury, eventually, he would bridge the gap between them.

    ¡°You look silly, contractor,¡± a deep voice boomed from above, disturbing Callan¡¯s contemplation of appearance. ¡°Cloth is useless. What good is covering that does not protect the body? And your mane is pathetic.¡±

    The carpenter apprentice held in a sigh. His elemental could be annoying but he couldn¡¯t stand his opinions being belittled. It was why Callan had grown his hair to the point of being uncomfortably long. A king needed a crown and the Vanity King¡¯s crown was his mane. He expected no less from his summoner.

    ¡°A human is more than their ability to fight,¡± Callan answered patiently. ¡°Is that not why you¡¯re here? To fight for me?¡±

    ¡°A King can be felt throughout his kingdom but he isn¡¯t truly omnipresent. You are my anchor to this land. I will not be dismissed before our goal is complete because my contractor is a rabbit when separated from me.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°I¡¯m no one¡¯s prey,¡± Callan muttered. With one last primping session, he turned from the mirror and strode out of his room.

    Two people waited outside the door. To the left stood a man in a plain brown robe, cinched off at the waist by a fraying rope. His shaved head made his heavy brow more pronounced, creating a naturally intimidating presence together with his great height and bulk.

    He was armed but not with a sword. That was the weapon of the privileged. Knights and noble sons. Those weren¡¯t Callans people. He spoke to the weak, to the unwanted, to the disenfranchised.

    Callan¡¯s guard wasn¡¯t trained in the courtyard of a knight order. He learned to fight in the streets. With no means and no talent, he had to use the ways of a savage to survive and a savage¡¯s weapon was the club. A particularly vicious brand of the weapon was strapped to the man¡¯s back, almost as tall as he was with a round head studded with nails. If one looked closely, they could see the dried blood in the grooves of the wood. A testament of the many battles it¡¯d seen its wielder through.

    On the opposite side of the door was a woman. Like her compatriot, she was from common stock. The only remarkable thing about her was her demeanor. While the man stood with tense shoulders and crossed arms, the woman knelt with the piousness of a true believer. Her head stayed bow even as the door opened, deference clear in every line of her body.

    Callan placed his hand on the woman¡¯s head and she rose. His hand left her hair to linger before her face and she kissed his fingertips. ¡°I greet the Voice of the King,¡± she said with a respectful tone. The kind of tone Callan had always longed to hear. It had taken twenty-two years but, finally, he felt that he was truly being seen.

    It was liberating. Intoxicating.

    ¡°Has the floor been prepared?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I saw to the arrangements myself.¡±

    ¡°Good. The King recognizes your efforts, Aimee. Learn well by my side and you will surely be a Voice one day.¡±

    The young woman beamed, the smile doing much to make her plain face more appealing. If Callan¡¯s heart wasn¡¯t filled with a certain green beauty, he might be tempted to act on the obvious opportunity. He certainly would have before meeting Kierra. He never struggled with women but he¡¯d never been the subject of such blatant admiration. There was nothing impressive about being an apprentice, after all.

    ¡°Falk, guard the room.¡±

    The large man nodded and moved in front of the door. Callan wasn¡¯t dumb enough to keep anything important in such a public place but others didn¡¯t know that.

    It had been several months since he formed a group dedicated to summoning. At first, the Grand Summoners, a name he wasn¡¯t particularly excited about, were seen as nothing more than a curiosity. Later, when his handful of people became a respectable number and the spies no doubt mixed into their midst spread rumors about the King, others began to take an interest in him.

    While they knew he was rapidly spreading the influence of the Grand Summoners, they couldn¡¯t know anything about his personal strength or his motives. A search of his personal rooms wouldn¡¯t help but it was the only option available to those with questions. After all, it was much better to take their chances breaking into a small building in Quest than risk being caught breaking the law within the Grand Hall.

    ¡°How has today¡¯s donations gone?¡± Callan asked.

    ¡°Three more have joined us and donated a total of fifty gold crowns.¡±

    Callan smiled. That much was enough to secure them a larger building in a more visible part of the city. Better, if they could afford so much as an initial donation, the gold would flow into his pockets when he showed them what summoning had to offer.

    ¡°Good. While gold means nothing before true power, it is the language of men. Unfortunately, they do not recognize the way the winds of the future blow. If we want them to move, we must provide the proper incentive.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Voice.¡±

    ¡°Soon, there will be no need for pretense.¡± Contracting the Vanity King was just the first step. Callan was cultivating a small group of those loyal to him and the idea of building a future through summoning. He would help them to form their own contracts, with weaker elementals of course. Practically overnight, they would be more than enough to rival any guild. Then, he would have more people willing to follow him than he knew what to do with. In a few years, the Grand Summoners would be a force not even the king could ignore.

    Then, he would see what Kierra thought of him. Surely, when he sat at the same table as royalty, she would see past whatever infatuation she had with the crazy noblewoman she¡¯d supposedly married. And if the circumstances of their union was more nefarious, as a part of him suspected, then he¡¯d have more than enough power to intervene.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-02

    The first meeting of the Grand Summoners, when they were too small to have a name, took place in the dining room of a small bar after closing. After months of efforts, Callan stood on a stage constructed by his followers before a group that wouldn¡¯t have fit in the small dining room they started in.

    The Listeners, his followers, all wore brown robes, drab and unflattering by design. They were meant to make the people wearing them faceless. A physical representation of their lacking selves. A circumstance that could only be changed when they embraced his teachings and proved themselves, both to the King and Callan.

    Standing ahead of the crowd were the chosen, the ones Callan thought he could make use of, allowed to distinguish themselves with wooden charms of a lion¡¯s head that hung from their robes. They assisted him in running the Grand Summoners. They also met with him once a week for private instruction to prepare them for their own contracts.

    It wasn¡¯t lost on Callan that he had no qualifications to guide fledgling summoners. His success was a result of his own efforts but it was undeniable that he wouldn¡¯t have had a place to start if not for the succubus passing along the knowledge of Lourianne Tome. As a summoner, he was just as inexperienced as the people he was leading.

    To admit that was to be seen as weak, something he couldn¡¯t afford. A leader had to lead. He did have some experience, having formed a contract with King, and he leveraged if for all it was worth.

    Summoning was all about confidence. A summoner had to inspire confidence in an elemental, give them a reason to lend a mortal far weaker than themselves their powers. He couldn¡¯t educate his followers about the many realms but he could teach them about confidence. In the end, that¡¯s what the people filling his pockets with gold wanted. To feel better about themselves. They wanted power too but mainly they wanted to feel that they mattered. Callan could give them that.

    Once everything was in place, the Vanity King took his place. Despite being a creature as tall as two horses stacked atop one another and as wide as a carriage, the large beast moved without a sound. The creaking of the stage was the only thing that gave away his presence as he settled behind Callan. His glorious golden mane and tawny fur shined under the meagre lighting as if the heavens had set aside a small sun to always shine upon him. As always, many looked up but only for a few moments. None could hold the King¡¯s golden stare for long.

    The elemental deserved the title of Vanity King. Everything about him, from his large paws to the small tuft of hair at the end of his tail, was awe-inspiring. The creature could be arrogant but he had the strength to support his ego. And that strength now encompassed Callan. It wasn¡¯t his command as he pleased but it appeared so and perception was a power of its own.

    With everything prepared, Callan cleared his throat and began to speak.

    ¡°This world isn¡¯t fair,¡± he said slowly, voice heavy with emotion. Callan felt strongly about what he taught to his followers. Both because he truly wanted to give something back to the people elevating him and because he couldn¡¯t control himself if he tried. He¡¯d struggled in the building, thinking that a leader needed to be more objective, but King told him to continue as he was.

    Logic didn¡¯t give a lion¡¯s roar its power but a passionate heart. Callan would never measure up to King and it was a fool¡¯s errand to try, but if he wanted his elemental to respect him, he would have to become much more than he was.

    ¡°Humanity is born at a disadvantage. We don¡¯t have the greatest numbers, the most potent powers, or the longest lifespans. Our race isn¡¯t blessed by mana, none of us having the ability to be born with a pure affinity. We lack knowledge and our oldest traditions were shattered after the Great War. We were forced to start again on a new land but after centuries, we still are naught but a shadow of our ancestors and their great kingdoms.¡±

    He paused to let the words sink in, to let them resonate as he knew they would. ¡°In the wake of our tragedy, humanity should have united. Instead, the elites of Harvest used their natural advantages to prey on the weak. Those without talent, without gifts, and those without a prominent bloodline have been used by the nobles of this kingdom for generations.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°In their eyes, we are useless. Because we do not have the qualities they value, they do not value us. I stand here as someone who was never valued to tell you that they are wrong. The nobles are wrong. The kingdom is wrong. We all have value, if only we are allowed to develop.

    ¡°Every one of you has the potential to rival any noble if given the resources and freedom to grow, but this kingdom will not give you those resources. You¡¯ll never receive the chance to grow¡­as long as you look to this world to give you the opportunity.

    ¡°Those beyond this world have greater wisdom. Better eyes. They can see what our own leaders cannot. They see value in you. In humanity. In this world. And through their benevolence, we may all be granted an opportunity to grow. We accept our benefactors into our lives and they give us a voice.¡±

    He paused again, taking a drink of water left a small table along with a small platter of dried fruits, taking the time to examine the newcomers. They were easily to spot as they fidgeted in their cheap robes. From the gold they¡¯d donated, they were likely used to luxury.

    He hadn¡¯t lost them but they weren¡¯t as engaged as the others. Callan expected nothing less. The Grand Summoners didn¡¯t sell religion, something fueled by faith. What he sold to his group was a path to power. Something that had tangible benefits with clear steps to achieve them. They wouldn¡¯t care until they had seen those benefits and were told how they would grab hold of them.

    ¡°Summoning is an ancient art yet it isn¡¯t well-known in Harvest. When I spread the word about a group of summoners, many thought it to be a joke. Summoning is seen as the practice of fools. And why? Those in powers buried the practice. They hate it because it judges a person by who they are, not the circumstances of their birth. It gives voices to those who they would prefer stayed silent. Does my patron look like a joke to any of you?¡±

    Vanity King stretched behind Callan, basking in the crowd¡¯s admiration. As the record said, the beast craved a following. He had answered the call of Callan, an unremarkable man, because he enjoyed moving amongst the weak. Reveled in their reverence. There was more to their contract but that was the heart of it. As long as Callan continued to build a following, King would cooperate with him.

    ¡°Elementals come from different worlds but they are not so different from you and I. They desire wealth, fame, and influence. They are patrons with an interest in fostering those with potential. They are mothers and fathers who take pity on the bumbling youth. They are villains who play games with mortals, pitting them against themselves. They are not good or evil, as we understand the terms, but they are not incomprehensible. As different as we are, we can come together and we are bettered by the union.

    ¡°New faces have joined us tonight.¡± Callan turned to meet the gazes of those he didn¡¯t recognize, three men standing near the edge of the crowd. The oldest of them met his gaze with a frown, still unconvinced. The youngest looked back and forth between Callan and King, eyes helplessly drawn to the elemental. The last of them stared ahead with a neutral expression.

    ¡°I bet you¡¯re wondering what summoning can do for you. Or perhaps, you¡¯re wondering the price you have to pay for the opportunity to change your life. Neither answer is what you think.¡±

    King rose and stepped down from the stage. The crowd parted to make way from him as he made his way to the newcomers. A menacing growl shook the walls of the room. ¡°You.¡± Callan smirked as the three men jumped. None doubted that King was powerful, an idiot could see that, but no one expected him to talk. The Vanity King appeared to be a powerful manabeast but there was so much more to the elemental than it appeared.

    His golden gaze speared the man trying to remain neutral. ¡°Draw your blade.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°You cannot fool the sense of a king,¡± the elemental snapped, cutting off his objection. ¡°Draw your blade. Test your metal against my hide.¡±

    The man glanced around, finding the room observing him with expectation. Hesitation clear in his movements, the man reached inside his robe and drew a dagger. King stood ready, staring down at the man with clear disdain as he slowly raised the blade and brought it down on the tawny fur. King huffed at the strike. ¡°Is that all the strength you¡¯re capable of? I have had leaves fall on me with more force.¡±

    At the provocation, the man lost some of his hesitation in his next strike but the result was the same. It didn¡¯t change the third, fourth, or fifth strike, despite them growing progressively stronger. The knife bounced off the fur without leaving a mark.

    ¡°Enough.¡± King turned from the man with a dismissive flick of his tail and padded back to the stage, settling behind Callan and resting his head on his paws.

    ¡°Many in this kingdom are strong but none are born impervious to blades. The realms beyond our own are vast and fantastical. There is no point in trying to tell you what reward you may seek from them, as they can offer more than you could ever imagine.

    ¡°In return, we offer them a bond. A summoner and their elemental are bound by their mana, their very beings. You tie your fate to another being in a primal way. It is unbreakable and irreversible. The contract changes your life forever, for better or worse.

    ¡°You offer your future but that means nothing to us. If you are here, then you have no future. You have tried everything in this world to get ahead and the world has given you nothing. Now, it is time to look beyond this world.¡±

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-03

    When the meeting finished, Callan stepped down from the stage to shake hands, give platitudes, and answer questions. Predictably, all of them wanted to know when they would get to form a contract of their own. Preferably with King¡¯s littermates or others of his kind.

    Callan didn¡¯t have answers for them. He was not a trained summoner. He didn¡¯t have the knowledge or experience to advise them properly. In the future, he hoped to negotiate with the Summoners Hall to allow his group to browse their records. Perhaps have a few of the acolytes eager for a few extra crowns assist them.

    Until then, he held his followers at bay with nonsense about improving themselves. It was good, as people should never stop seeking to improve themselves, but most elementals didn¡¯t care about their summoners knowledge or personality. They cared about what they got out of the deal.

    ¡°It was an enlightening meeting.¡±

    Callan recognized the man who failed to pierce King¡¯s hide. He¡¯d kept an eye on all the newcomers. The other two had fallen to the allure of summoning but he had never seen any visible signs that the man before him was impressed by the theatrics. ¡°This is just the beginning. Summoning has incredible depths that we couldn¡¯t explore even if we dedicated our whole lives to the art.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I believe it. After all, I¡¯ve seen summoning do incredible things.¡±

    There was something in the man¡¯s tone. Something that told Callan that he didn¡¯t want to have this conversation where it could be overheard. ¡°I admire your passion. Would you be interested in having a private conversation?¡±

    ¡°Funny. I was going to ask you to the same question. Do you drink, Voice?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Great. I have something I think you will enjoy.¡±

    ¡°Aimee.¡± With a wave of his hand, Callan called his assistant. ¡°Please escort¡­¡±

    ¡°Robins.¡±

    ¡°Please escort Mr. Robins to my rooms and see that he is comfortable.¡±

    Callan watched them as they walked away but only for a moment. His attention was quickly occupied by the next member wanting to shake his hand. He smiled reflexively as a worrying skinny man with excited eyes grabbed his fingers in an uncomfortably sweaty palm. ¡°Voice, I¡¯m ready to seize my new future alongside my patron.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. The first step to creating your new future is to envision a better life.  Summoning can give you power but power is pointless in incapable hands. We need faith, that our destinies lie waiting for us to reach for them, but we also need knowledge and vision.

    ¡°I encourage you to arrange for a private meeting for us to discuss that vision. We do charge a small fee for extra guidance, but every donation goes to expanding the reach of the Grand Summoners¡­¡±

    -

    Once the building was emptied, Callan returned to his rooms, nodding at Falk who continued to stand sentry. Inside, Robins sat in a chair while Aimee stood demurely beside him, subtly putting herself between him and Callan¡¯s desk. A gesture he appreciated and just the latest display of her loyalty. It was clear she was the best choice to ¡°elevate¡±. The problem was that Callan wasn¡¯t sure how to arrange another summoning without exposing his inexperience. A problem for the future.

    ¡°Mr. Robins. Thank you for coming.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is mine.¡± Robins straightened in his seat, lacing his fingers over his stomach. ¡°You¡¯re a busy man, Voice, and I have several pressing matters bothering me myself so I hope you don¡¯t mind if I get to the heart of the matter.¡±

    Callan¡¯s lips twitched at the abrupt tone. The respectful demeanor he used before was gone. Suddenly, Callan felt that he wasn¡¯t being addressed as the Voice of the Grand Summoners but as a carpenter¡¯s apprentice. A part of him wanted to take the meeting to the second floor that was exclusively used to house King. See if Robins dared to belittle him in the face of a lion large enough to swallow a man whole.

    He squashed the petty urge, recognizing it would not do him any favors. ¡°It is late. Please, skip the pleasantries.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. First, I promised you a drink.¡± Robins pulled a small brown bottle from his robe. ¡°Couldn¡¯t bring glasses with me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any here.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. Take it them.¡± He passed along the bottle. ¡°But sip it. Herbie is strong. Should water it down if you¡¯re not used to the hard stuff.¡±

    ¡°¡­thank you.¡± Callan placed the bottle on his desk and turned back to the man. ¡°Now, you implied you wanted to say something.¡± Robins turned to Aimee but Callan waved off the obvious request. ¡°Whatever it is, it can be said before her.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I¡¯m here as a representative to the Shadow Wolves guild. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re familiar with the events of the Wild Night.¡±

    ¡°Who in this city isn¡¯t?¡±

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°I also believe that you are familiar with the woman behind it. Lourianne Tome.¡±

    Callan flinched at the name. Unbidden, he remembered their last interaction together. Her hands over his throat, strangling him. The anger twisting her features not enough to distract from her admittedly beautiful face. The casual disdain she¡¯d used to dismiss him when her succubus convinced her he wasn¡¯t worth the effort of hiding his body.

    He would never forget that day. Callan had always felt undervalued, but Lourianne Tome made him feel¡­small. An insult he would love to return twice over.

    ¡°I¡¯m somewhat familiar with her, yes.¡±

    ¡°Good. That makes things easier.¡± The hunter sighed. ¡°That night would be a tragedy if it only concerned what happened to the hunters but by some unsaintly curse, the effects of the actions taken then continue to affect the future of the guilds and Quest.¡±

    Callan stepped closer, smelling an opportunity. ¡°Is¡­Lady Tome causing more issues?¡±

    ¡°This is bigger than a single woman. Bigger than the guilds. Perhaps bigger than Quest. But Lourianne Tome seems to be at the center of the events about to unfold. The guilds need to understand her. She is a summoner. We would like to understand what that means.¡±

    Robins eyed Callan. ¡°Normally, we would go to the Grand Hall but the school is distancing themselves from the situation to maintain impartiality. This kingdom is bereft of summoners. You are our only choice, Voice. Further, you have proven yourself capable. King is¡­very impressive.¡±

    ¡°Allow me to be sure I understand,¡± Callan said slowly. ¡°You want me to advise you in taking action against Lourianne Tome?¡±

    ¡°Not in taking action¡­yet. The guilds don¡¯t want another tragedy. We want you to help us understand her a little better, from the position of a summoner.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Callan put his fidgeting hands behind his back and stopped himself from pacing. He didn¡¯t know if the energy he was struggling to contain was excitement or anxiety. He wasn¡¯t ready to go against Lourianne yet, nowhere close.

    King was strong but she had two elementals of her own. More importantly, Kierra would presumably defend the noblewoman and he had heard plenty of rumors about the elf¡¯s strength. He had also been on the receiving end of her healing and could attest that it was miraculous. Kierra was not an enemy anyone wanted to make.

    Besides, there was no greater way to add legitimacy to his group than being endorsed by the guilds.

    Callan licked his dry lips. ¡°I would like to help you but I may not be the best man for such a job. As you said, I have some familiarity with Lady Tome and am not so saintly that I can keep my own opinion from seeping into my words.¡±

    ¡°My people took that into consideration before approaching you. We want your opinion.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then I should start by sharing that Lourianne Tome is a homicidal madwoman. A strong claim, I understand, but made in good faith. During our first meeting, she almost killed me.¡±

    Aimee gasped, to which Callan smiled ruefully.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be concerned. As you can see, I¡¯m perfectly fine. I mention it to show what kind of woman Lourianne Tome is. She is powerful, both personally and through her connections. Her elementals are only the beginning. She is the worse kind of noble, the kind that wields her power with impunity believing that she is beyond sanction.¡±

    ¡°That is¡­a concerning characterization.¡±

    ¡°One that is fairly obvious. A compassionate or empathetic woman wouldn¡¯t slaughter men indiscriminately, even for a just cause. To put it simply, she is a bully. If you are seeking to negotiate, I suggest you do it from a stronger position. Otherwise, she will walk all over you.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then, how do you see her as a summoner?¡±

    Callan paused to consider his words. ¡°Skilled. The Tomes are a family of summoners. She undoubtedly has ample amount of training. To my knowledge, she has two high-level elementals when most summoners spend their whole lives trying to obtain one. But, a summoner¡¯s strength is also their weakness.

    ¡°A contract may force an elemental to act but if a summoner isn¡¯t in harmony with their elemental than they are both diminished. I can attest that she does not have a true partnership with her elementals.¡±

    The hunter¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°We know that she is contracted to a succubus. From what we know of the Grimoires, they are selfish and calculating creatures. Amoral as well, given what they did at the behest at that family.¡±

    ¡°Creatures of the beyond are different from us but there are many things we share. Foremost, a desire for self-preservation.¡±

    ¡°Her own elementals are threatened by her?¡±

    ¡°Their lives are not in danger. That would be exceedingly foolish. How do I¡­her lecherous nature knows no bounds.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°That is¡­interesting information. Though I am not sure if it makes a difference. Even if there is discord between her and her elementals, they are forced to support her.¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily. A contract does not guarantee loyalty.¡±

    ¡°You mean to say that her elementals can be turned against her?¡±

    How he wanted to lay all his cards on the table and expose the gaping hole in Lourianne Tome¡¯s fa?ade. But to doom her was to doom himself. The best he could do was allude and hope the hunters wise enough to follow the trail.

    ¡°I don¡¯t live in her house so I can¡¯t know her secrets. What I can say is that she is not the kind to inspire loyalty. The bond between a summoner and their elemental is called a contract for good reason. What gifts they give are given on their terms. What would a man have to offer you to have your complete loyalty? It is a steep price to pay. An impossible one for creatures that do not share the values of men.

    ¡°Most summoners exchange the riches of the world for the services of the elemental. Loyalty is rare. It cannot be bought or coerced. An elemental only signs away their life to those who can inspire absolute faith.¡±

    Or so the record he received said. Warning him not to reach for too much and ruin his chances. Vanity King was a creature of arrogance but the beast only appreciated his own and depised the trait in others. ¡°Lourianne Tome is not a woman to inspire faith in anything. At the risk of insulting myself, summoning is the art of those without talent. Some could say the art of cowards. She can do nothing on her own. What was she before she returned to Harvest with an elven bride? No one even knew the Tome name, let alone hers. She is an unimpressive creature lifted to lofty heights on the shoulders of others. So long as they are beside her, she will be incorrigible. But if you separate the summoner from her elementals, then she is nothing.¡±

    The hunter sat pensively, considering his words. ¡°Yes, I think it was a good decision to come here tonight.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Would you be interested in discussing this further with other members of my guild?¡±

    ¡°That depends. Will you tell me what the guilds are planning?¡± He would be happy to help any group that had bad intentions toward the noblewoman but he didn¡¯t relish the idea of carelessly stepping into a mess. Revenge was sweet but Callan cared more about his future than Lourianne¡¯s demise.

    ¡°¡­that decision is up to my bosses. Like I said, this is bigger than a single woman. I do know what could convince them to trust you.¡± He paused, letting the moment add gravitas to his words. ¡°Would you and King be willing to fight for the future of this kingdom?¡±

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-04

    Marcella reclined in the office of her new store, wearing an uncharacteristic frown. She had petitioned hard to be sent to the Guiness Company branch in Quest. Her father didn¡¯t put much stock in the city, as it was hard for outsiders to gain any traction with the fiercely loyal guilds, but it was a good market. Marcella was sure that, in the right hands, it could produce a lot more profit.

    Besides, connections with the guilds were worth more than gold. As the youngest house within the ranks of high nobles, the Guiness family lacked a standing army. Their knights were some of the best in the kingdom but their numbers were few and they were spread thin. They were too valuable to use for simple jobs, forcing the Company to hire out the work. Something that came with risks.

    Mercenaries thrived on their reputation but a payday big enough for them to retire could make them throw that hard earned reputation aside. It happened with startling frequency. Hunters were just as bad. There was the same risk of betrayal and they were also a lot more reckless. Incredibly so.

    The guilds took anyone that wanted to fight. The vast numbers they recruited meant they didn¡¯t have the resources to properly vet applicants or provide the level of training required of knights. When a job was posted with the guilds, any member could take it. The only way to ensure a project was placed into capable hands was if someone in the guild took a personal interest in it.

    A connection with the guilds would be critical in the future if they wanted to launch an expedition to the elven continent. The force would need people who were trustworthy, experienced, skilled, and in possession of good sense. None of which applied to most of the common rabble that made a living as hunters.

    That was the other reason she had fought so hard to come to the city. The expedition. The markets of Harvest had been tapped by her family. Her father had milked all the profit he could from them and wasn¡¯t satisfied, turning his gaze to the rest of the world.

    From what they could gather, the elven province was particularly bountiful. Full of new plants and manabeasts with untapped potential. They also had xanderium, the precious mana ore. A metal that channeled mana like nothing else.

    Any weapon crafted and enchanted from it had the potential to be a national treasure. All the deposits in Harvest had only been enough to forge two blades but their visitor from another land had casually implied the elves had much, much more.

    Unfortunately, they hadn¡¯t made much progress on that front. Even if Marcella could assemble a force willing to brave the Enchanted Forest that she trusted enough not to ruin diplomatic relations, it meant nothing if they couldn¡¯t reach the elven provinces. Or were executed the moment they stepped onto foreign soil. It was all a big risk and her father didn¡¯t enjoy risks. He preferred certainty whenever he could have it and that certainty came in the form of Kierra Atainna.

    They couldn¡¯t ask for a more perfect guide. She was knowledgeable, powerful, and a woman of status. She could guide them through the forest safely and point out all the valuable reagents along the way. She could also introduce them to all the players in her home, saving them the months or years required to form their own connections. Better, she was a blood relative of the reigning queen. Truly, the elf coming to Harvest was like a chest of gold falling from the sky but her family was having a cursed time trying to pry it open.

    Their dealings across the ocean had proved one thing. All beings of the world, no matter their differences, were united by desire. Find what someone desired and there was a way to profit from it. The problem was they were unable to fulfill the woman¡¯s desires. Or even define them.

    Throughout his life, the Guiness patriarch had wooed those he took an interest in with promises of luxuries. He¡¯d gone from a humble son of a small-time merchant to one of the most powerful men in the kingdom through the power of gold. Marcella had been raised on the philosophy that there was no problem that couldn¡¯t be fixed with enough wealth. Yet, that is exactly what they had encountered. No matter how much wealth they offered her, whether it was in crowns or physical goods, Kierra could not be swayed.

    They tried to take inspiration from what little they knew she was interested in. First, her less riskier appreciation for bladed weapons but the craftsmanship of human blacksmiths failed to impress her. Then, her apparent taste for noblewomen.

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    The marquis wasn¡¯t above using relationships for profit. Seeing the elf had married one noblewoman, the Guiness patriarch had been quick to tempt her with another through subtle insinuations. Marcella found out later that she was the one offered up on a silver platter. Something that would normally make her indignant but her father knew her well enough to know what she could accept. After meeting the elf, she was sorely disappointed, as it was one arranged marriage she was certain she would have enjoyed. Very much.

    Kierra¡¯s actions suggested that the unusual union had no room for any other parties but that notion was swiftly disproved when Lourianne Tome revealed she had contracted a succubus. No matter what anyone claimed, it was impossible that someone would be involved with such a creature without sleeping with it. Despite that, Kierra seemed fine with the arrangement. As such, the marquis concluded that there was perhaps room for a mistress. For Lou.

    A high-noble giving one of his daughters to a noble of little relevance, let alone a woman of little relevance, was a bit demeaning but there was little the marquis wouldn¡¯t do in the name of profit. He had decide to pin his hopes on Maxine, as they already had a rapport.

    A ridiculous notion. Her sister couldn¡¯t seduce a man that hadn¡¯t seen another warm body in a decade. Worse, she was clumsy where seducing the fairer sex required finesse. Months of time with them and she was barely more than an acquaintance. The girl really needed to accept her limitations.

    Because of her reckless ambition and her father being thrown off guard by such strange quarry, Marcella had lost a valuable opportunity. She had one conversation before Kierra and her wife skipped out of Quest. A delightful conversation, the baked goods and tea enhanced by Kierra¡¯s ease at trading innuendo, but a short one of little substance. If only she¡¯d had the months squandered by her sister. Marcella couldn¡¯t say for certain that she¡¯d have their cooperation but she¡¯d certainly be more than a friend Lou thought so little of she couldn¡¯t be bothered to greet her.

    Marcella preferred to take her time with her targets but that wasn¡¯t a luxury she could afford. Since the Wild Night, events in the city had unfolded rapidly. She could feel forces moving beneath the surface, the tension gradually mounting. All it would take for the whole thing to go up in a smoke was a single spark. A spark she suspected Lou¡¯s return would provide.

    Being related to the noblewoman wasn¡¯t a good thing in the current Quest. Their business had already suffered for it, the little tract Maxine had managed to make with the guilds evaporating when the Company refused to denounce Lou and her household. A lesser trader would have capitulated to the hunters¡¯ pressure. Or perhaps packed up their business and fled until the tensions eased.

    Marcella was a Guiness. Problems were nothing more than ugly opportunities. Sure, she suffered now but sacrificing a little business meant nothing if the show of loyalty increased Lou¡¯s trust in her. More importantly, the guilds¡¯ grudges would mean nothing if Lou crushed them. Seeing as she¡¯d already won their first confrontation, smart money was on Lou crushing whatever plot the hunters were cooking up. Especially if she had support. Marcella didn¡¯t have many resources but she¡¯d turned them all to keeping track of the hunters movements. Information won wars, including trade wars.

    If the guilds self-destructed as she thought they would, she would have her opportunity. Most hunters were opportunists who didn¡¯t care about their organizations¡¯ history or traditions. They wanted training and enough work to feed their families. Loyalty was good but they¡¯d always go to whoever gave them the better deal.

    At the moment, confidence in the guilds and their guildsmasters was low. If they suffered another loss at the hands of a noblewoman no one had ever heard of, they¡¯d lose the shoddy reputation they had left. The men and women of Quest would be ready to be reaped.

    Every Guiness child searched for ways to stand out from their siblings in hopes of receiving their father¡¯s favor and inheriting his vast wealth. Marcella hoped to do so by wooing Kierra and plundering the treasures of her homeland, through fair trade. However, establishing her own guild didn¡¯t sound too bad either. She thought running a group of reckless thugs sounded quite fun and looked forward to being a guildmaster.

    A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. ¡°Come in,¡± she shouted, putting down a report she¡¯d long stopped paying any attention to.

    The door opened and a young man walked in, tightly gripping a hat in one hand. She recognized him as one of clerks who worked day shifts but couldn¡¯t remember her name. Low-level employees of his kind had become faceless and hard to remember.

    She certainly made much more of an impression on him. His eyes predictably moved from her face to her chest before dropping to the floor in embarrassment. She smiled, able to make out the tip of the man¡¯s, no boy¡¯s, ears. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Sorry to bother you, lady.¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I was just thinking about taking a break.¡± She stretched her arms over her head, letting out a squeak of contentment as her bones popped. The boy¡¯s wide eyes followed the movement, this time only looking away when she raised a brow.

    ¡°Ah, thank you. Lady Maxine is here to visit you.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Maxine hadn¡¯t graced the store since Lou and Kierra picked up their order. Marcella had left her be, indulging her sister¡¯s rare temper tantrum. She was quite interested to see what had brought her back. ¡°Tell her to come up.¡±

    ¡°Right away.¡±

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-05

    While Marcella had confidence in her charm, much of her success could be attributed to a proper respect for theatrics. She was a beautiful woman but the right lighting and a properly decorated room could turn her, or anyone else, into the kind of vision bards wrote songs about.

    She could say the same thing a hundred different ways. The trick was finding the words that touched someone¡¯s heart and it was different for every person. Marcella had a way of looking at someone and seeing their fantasies. The things that captured their hearts. Then she tried to make them see those fantasies in her.

    For Maxine, what captured her heart was power. Just as employees were faceless to Marcella, she and her siblings were faceless to their father, an incredibly vain man who only bothered to recognize them when they made themselves useful to his whims. That disregard had forged Maxine into a woman that craved recognition more than anything, particularly that of the marquis.

    Marcella could make her sister love her easily. All she had to do was flatter her a little. Maybe ask for her advice on business matters here and there. Encourage her to start her own store. Throw a party where she was the guest of honor and make sure everyone piled heaping mounds of flattery at her feet.

    Unfortunately for Maxine, Marcella didn¡¯t need to be adored by her sister. What she needed was less competition. So, rather than cultivate their relationship, Marcella used her insight to tear the younger woman down. She wanted to be important so the elder sister made sure Maxine felt like nothing in her presence.

    To prepare for her sister¡¯s arrival, she cleared her desk of most of the papers cluttering it and forced herself to languidly lounge in her seat. Giving the appearance of already having finished her work for the day despite the early hour. A silly trick but for nobles, who were taught to read far too much into even the simplest gesture and assume the worst, it could be devastating. Maxine would look at her clean desk and invent the worst possible explanation for it. The poor girl was really her worst enemy.

    Shortly after Marcella finished setting the scene, there was another knock on her door. This time, the person on the other side didn¡¯t wait for an answer before coming in.

    It took one glance for Marcella to realize that something had changed with her sister. Her conclusion had nothing to do with Maxine¡¯s physical changes, though those were quite drastic. She¡¯d cut her hair, the black waterfall that had once reached the center of her back chopped down to her ears. She was also wearing a shirt and trousers, attire Maxine had never been fond of, having adhered to traditional standards of beauty prevalent in the capital.

    But neither of those things was why Marcella felt her sister had changed. It was her gaze. Once she entered the room, the gray eyes swept over the clean desk, as Marcella knew they would. They should have narrowed or dropped to the ground. Instead, they settled on Marcella with¡­disdain. She couldn¡¯t remember the last time Maxine had held her gaze let alone stared her down.

    ¡°Good of you to visit,¡± Marcella said, straightening up. Her eyes discretely flicked over her sister, looking for new insight. ¡°There isn¡¯t much to do here but I¡¯m sure I can find you something to keep busy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have the time. I came to tell you that I¡¯m leaving the city.¡±

    Marcella stared at her. ¡°¡­Father is sending you away?¡±

    ¡°Father knows nothing about it.¡±

    The elder sister was having a hard time keeping up. Maxine¡¯s words made no sense. She was also keeping her expression carefully blank, making it that much harder to infer anything. ¡°¡­you¡¯re leaving the city on an unsanctioned venture?¡±

    ¡°Yes, tonight.¡±

    Marcella chuckled, amused by the unexpected circumstances. ¡°So? Did you come to ask for funding? Company? Well wishes?¡±

    ¡°None of that. I assume that one of your tasks is keeping an eye on me or at the very least keeping Father apprised of the situation.¡±

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    ¡°How considerate. Then? Where are you headed?¡±

    ¡°None of your business.¡±

    Marcella¡¯s lips twitched. ¡°You play games now?¡±

    ¡°No games. All you need to know is that my movements aren¡¯t your concern. Or Father¡¯s.¡±

    A bold proclamation. To move without their father¡¯s approval was to move without his resources. Maxine wanted to make a deal on her own. If it succeeded, all the acclaim would be hers but if she failed, she would also shoulder all the consequences. It was a risky way to get noticed. One she didn¡¯t think her sister capable of.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Quite. I would not have come to you if my resolve wasn¡¯t firm.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not too late to change your mind. I don¡¯t want to see you hurt, Maxie.¡±

    ¡°A mugger could gut me outside your office and you wouldn¡¯t bat an eye.¡± The younger woman scoffed. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in two weeks, maybe three.¡±

    Marcella¡¯s mind turned rapidly, as she mentally listed every destination in the kingdom that her sister could visit and return from in three weeks. The list was too long. The problem was she couldn¡¯t imagine what her sister wanted in any of them.

    If she had to guess, she¡¯d wager Maxine was headed for Rosentheim. The people there had crowns to burn. An enterprising mind could always find a way to profit.

    Marcella¡¯s problem was that her family already had plenty of connections in the City of Roses. If Maxine wanted to try her luck, her father would readily support her. It wasn¡¯t worth striking out on her own for a peasant¡¯s wage when she could make much more with her family, sparing them all her dramatics.

    It suggested that Maxine had a lead on a big score. One that the Guiness family had missed despite their many agents and extensive connections. And that was interesting.

    ¡°One more thing, sister.¡± Maxine sighed. ¡°I know you¡¯re not going to listen to me but stay out of this hunter business.¡±

    It was cute. Whatever her sister was scheming, it had given her a little confidence and now she thought she could give orders. ¡°Thank you but I¡¯m not scared of the guilds.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not warning you about the guilds. I¡¯m warning you about Lou and her house. You¡¯re underestimating them, Marcella. Looking down on them as you look down on everyone but you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re dealing with.¡±

    ¡°I see. Please, enlighten me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the faintest idea what they¡¯re really capable of.¡±

    Marcella chuckled. ¡°Then why should I listen to you?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯ve been around Kierra. Heard the things she says. I¡¯ve also done my research into summoning. I know what the elementals Lou keeps at her sides are really capable of. Whatever it is the guilds are plotting, it might really piss her off. And Lou has already shown that when she¡¯s angry, she doesn¡¯t care about the fallout. You could get caught in the battle trying to loot the bodies.¡±

    Marcella¡¯s finger idly tapped on the armrest of her chair as she eyed her sister. She briefly entertained that the warning was a tactic to unnerve her. Keep her distracted chasing shadows so she didn¡¯t look into Maxine¡¯s affairs.

    She dismissed the thought a moment later. Maxine had changed in many ways but she was still straightforward. She couldn¡¯t imagine her sister employing that kind of deception. Besides, her eyes were too honest.

    ¡°Do you think Lou would slaughter those around her indiscriminately?¡±

    ¡°I want to say no but truthfully? I have no idea. At times, she¡¯s empathetic, almost too much so when it comes to beautiful women, which¡­¡± Marcella accepted the implied compliment with a smile. ¡°But other times¡­she¡¯s cold. I can¡¯t see her doing anything drastic by herself but with Kierra and the succubi beside her, pushing her¡­¡±

    Maxine shook her head. ¡°Take my advice or don¡¯t. Just remember, our last name isn¡¯t an impenetrable shield. It won¡¯t protect you from an errant spell so keep your head down.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep your words in mind. In return, here.¡± Marcella pulled open a drawer and dropped a small bag of coins on the desk. Keeping a little ¡°bribe money¡± nearby was a habit she¡¯d picked up long ago. There was no telling who would walk into her office any given day and it always paid to be prepared.

    When Maxine made no move to grab it, Marcella tossed it to her, chuckling at her frown. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen someone so unhappy to receive money.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for this.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t. It¡¯s an older sister¡¯s job to look after the younger siblings, isn¡¯t it?¡± Marcella didn¡¯t know what her sister had planned but she liked the younger woman¡¯s new attitude. It was likely a phase that would pass without anything coming of it but on the off-chance it wasn¡¯t useless posturing, it couldn¡¯t hurt to be remembered doing something kind right before a big success. ¡°My way of wishing you a safe journey.¡±

    ¡°Sure. I wish you the best as well, sister.¡±

    There was a small moment of awkwardness as both women evaluated one another before Maxine hastily curtsied and left the room. Once the door slammed closed, Marcella grabbed the paperwork she¡¯d hidden and put it back on her desk. She only managed to stare at the account books for a few moments before her curiosity got the better of her and she left the office.

    Maxine planned to leave at night. That gave Marcella a few hours to figure out what she was up to and, hopefully, get a pair of eyes on her movements. Information won wars and it seemed Maxine had finally become a player in the war to succeed their father.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-06

    Umphrieltalia didn¡¯t like the cold months. Snow and brisk winds reminded her of her time in the kingdom¡¯s orphanage, nothing but unpleasant memories. If the caretakers had ever cared about their job, years of being mired in the tragedies of others had robbed them of that empathy. Their charges were nothing more than faceless burdens. Responsibilities rather than passions. There was never enough and, having always been quiet, Talia was often overlooked.

    If her affinity wasn¡¯t so valuable, she would have spent her childhood in the rundown building, a small bed cramped inside of a room with twenty others and two changes of clothing all she owned in the world. Then she would have been thrown out during the first week of her sixteenth year, deemed old enough to fend for herself regardless of her actual ability and lack of any education.

    Being found by the scouts for the interrogators was the greatest fortune of her life. She didn¡¯t mind that they had uplifted her from the squalor of the town for their own ends. Everything in life was based around contracts. Nothing was given without something taken in return.

    The people who cared for Talia after her parents died in a raid did so for gold. The bigger children within the orphanage formed a gang that provided help and protection to their younger ¡°siblings¡± in return for obedience. The interrogators would give Talia shelter and training in return for her future service and loyalty.

    The same concept applied to everyone at all levels of society. Peasants paid taxes and obeyed their leaders in return for the stability and protection afforded by the king¡¯s law. Nobles governed the land in return for prestige and wealth. The king guided the nation and in turn received the support of those he ruled. Every interaction was governed by a contract. When the contract was obeyed, all was well. When contracts were broken, it invited chaos.

    And just like business contracts, sometimes terms needed to be renegotiated or voided entirely. There was nothing Talia valued more than her independence. As a blind child, she had been largely dependent on her parents. Being smothered by their concern had been uncomfortable but, tempered by their love, bearable.

    At the orphanage, the care she received was always laced with scorn, when they bothered to care for her at all. She, who had never had a fierce desire for anything, formed a desperate craving for power. No, an obsession. She never wanted to be helpless again.

    When she was introduced to Lord Remmings, the head of the interrogators, her teacher, and her adoptive father, he promised to take her to the heights of the mental affinity. In return, she would dedicate her abilities to the interrogators, in service of the people. Not as a tool to break criminals but as a diviner of the truth.

    There was nothing more dangerous than a mental caster with an agenda. Though the interrogators were meant to be neutral, they were still human, vulnerable to temptation like anyone else.

    What kept the royal family from acting like the Grimoires was Remmings. He made sure no one could blatantly use the interrogators for their own ends, maintaining his neutrality throughout decades of pressure assaulting him from all sides. If the interrogators were to have any future, his successor would need to have the same temperament.

    There was no one more neutral than Talia. With no connections to any noble house, a sharp mind, and strength that had to be respected, she was the perfect heir. Everyone in the right circles knew that Remmings had been grooming her to replace him. A path she would have gladly walked.

    Until she met Lourianne Tome and her succubi. Creatures she knew from her teacher¡¯s complaints about his constant troubles shielding the capital from their corruption. Talia had been led to believe that they were skilled mental casters at the beck and call of the Grimoire family. A private army of casters funded by a noble family, a familiar occurrence made more troublesome by the affinity they wielded.

    He never told her that the succubi were not skilled, but unparalleled masters. Like so many others, her teacher had equated a thrall¡¯s relatively weak coefficient in relation to a master caster, to a similar level in skill. A ridiculous notion. The size of a being¡¯s core had nothing to do with their knowledge of an affinity.

    What her teacher considered the heights of the mental affinity was nothing but child¡¯s play to the creatures who preyed on the mind. Not only did they have better spells, but they also had a greater understanding of how to use said spells for maximum efficiency. They also used the mental affinity in ways no human caster could imagine.

    To compare Remmings to even the weakest thrall was to compare an ant to the saints. Too small to comprehend how insignificant his knowledge of the world was.

    Even Talia couldn¡¯t say for certain that she understood the true strength of the succubi, something that greatly excited her. That realization caused her to immediately re-evaluate her contract with her benefactor.

    Remmings promised the interrogators would help her reach the height of the mental affinity. Given that he couldn¡¯t comprehend how far he was from such a lofty height and he was the strongest of the group, he was unable to fulfill his part of the contract. Therefore, Talia saw nothing wrong with voiding their agreement and pursuing a new contract with the one who could fulfill her desires. Lourianne Tome.

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    A contract that was already proving more fruitful than her arrangement with the interrogators. In a matter of months, Geneva, her new teacher, had provided her a better method of cycling her mana to increase the growth of her core, provided exercises to improve her control of her mana, and given several lectures that changed the way she thought of the mental affinity.

    That alone would have been enough but then Lourianne Tome, who she had gotten close to simply for access to the succbi, had provided her own value through summoning. One of her elementals had taught Talia to see.

    She originally sought power to compensate for the weakness of her eyes but, thanks to Lou, that weakness had become a strength. She could see the world, in all its colorful glory, but she also retained the ability to see mana, the gift that had given her insight into Lourianne¡¯s nature and prompted their association.

    Talia also appreciated the change in circumstances. Working as a dorm mother, she had responsibilities to both the Grand Hall and the crown. It left little time for self-improvement, the reason she worked for them in the first place.

    Having given up the position, she had much more free time. She could spend all day meditating to improve her core without worrying about a report she needed to turn in or being interrupted by a noble brat causing trouble. She could wake up when she pleased, take her time enjoying her meals, and go out for leisurely strolls through the garden. Talia had never been so free her entire life.

    And what did Lourianne ask in return for all her gifts? A similar price as her previous benefactor. A lifetime of service. Not to a group or the people or the crown. Lou demanded a pledge to herself and her family. As a lover, as a protector, and as a confidante.

    Talia believed in equal exchanges. What she was given, she would return. Lou and her household had gone far beyond expectation in regard to their part of their contract. Ergo, Talia would do the same. She would be the best lover she could be. What she didn¡¯t know, she would study with the same zeal she applied to her magical training.

    Kierra had already tested her in that regard. When Talia struggled to understand the role she was meant to play, the elf provided guidance, introducing her to concept of a ¡°flower¡±.

    Flowers were an essential part of nature while also being the frivolous indulgences of the wealthy. They were delicate, easily trampled by babes, but could survive in the harshest environments. The poisonous variants could be used to either heal or hurt. Most importantly, caring for them gave their owners a feeling of contentment.

    Talia had to embody all these ideals. She was meant to be a soft comfort to the more ambitious members of the house, a quiet support to take their burdens from them when they returned from ¡°battle¡± and ensure they were well-rested for the next. She was a trophy and a pet, to be doted on and cherished so that simply setting eyes on her filled her partners with a sense of satisfaction. She was to be charming, as radiant as a field of blooms in the summer and beguiling as white petals drenched in moonlight. Both with her words and her actions. Talia had never been a vain woman but it was her looks that had attracted Lou and she wasn¡¯t above using them for her gain.

    There was also her¡­marital duties. Lou made no secret that she wanted to be intimate with her, though she was surprisingly reticent. Likely because Talia showed no interest in the act. She never had, having spent her life observing the carnal obsessions of her peers with vague confusion when she bothered to pay attention at all.

    She worried that her disinterest would make her a bad partner in that regard. If she didn¡¯t fulfill what was expected of her satisfactorily, Lou might be tempted to end their contract. Something Talia refused to allow.

    Thankfully, Kierra had been eager to instruct her once more. Talia hadn¡¯t awakened any latent desire, but she learned that her body was capable of responding to touch. She could enjoy intimacy like anyone else even if she didn¡¯t care for it to the extent of most others. She¡¯d been worried that she would be repulsed by the act but after a few nights with the elf, she almost looked forward to it.

    Yes, she looked forward to Lou¡¯s return. Talia had been put in charge of the house while Lourianne, Kierra, and Alana fought in the northern campaigns. A time to be a poisonous flower that brought misfortune to anyone stupid enough to bring harm to the estate or the other members of the house. A task she would complete flawlessly.

    Then, she planned to impress Lou with everything she had learned. Afterwards, given Lou¡¯s doting nature and Talia¡¯s role as the one meant to be doted on, it would be the perfect time to ask for a favor that had been on her mind for a while.

    Talia wanted instruction in spellcraft. Specifically, she wanted Geneva, her new teacher, to examine the spells taught to her by her old teacher and tear them apart. To improve them. Show without a shadow of a doubt that the interrogators were languishing in mediocrity rather than at the heights of magic, as they believed.

    She didn¡¯t regret breaking her contract with the interrogators, but she did have lingering feelings for Lord Remmings. He had been¡­kind to her. One of very few people in her life that had. Goodwill should be repaid. So, she would offer him insight. Show him there was more. Open the way to a better future, the same as he¡¯d once done for her. Then, their contract would truly be complete.

    And who knew? Perhaps he would be ready for greater change. The interrogators could do much better than being the dogs the crown. Remmings always complained about other interests infecting the purity of their purpose. If they were able to establish themselves as third parties, beholden only to themselves, they could do a lot more to protect the people of the kingdom.

    Lou could give them the opportunity and Geneva could make them something much greater than a bunch of hooded mysteries that never showed their faces outside the palace.

    It might even finally prompt Lou to break out of her delusion of anonymity. The young woman seemed unusually opposed to the idea of a position of power, but she was only delaying the inevitable. Power like hers didn¡¯t go unnoticed for long. Once it was discovered, she would only have two options, just as Talia had when she was discovered. Either she used her power or someone else used her. Sometimes, the two weren¡¯t mutually exclusive.

    Soon, sooner than Lou thought undoubtedly, the summoner would either rise on her own or be forced to do so. As her flower, Talia would quietly support her, her actions never seen or spoken of but known to those who mattered.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-07

    As was becoming her new routine, Talia woke late in the morning, sprawled across the large bed in the main bedroom. The estate had more than enough space for her to claim a room for herself and Kierra had given her leave to do just that, but Talia made a point of sleeping in Lou¡¯s bed.

    At first, her actions were motivated by her contract. A flower wilted when not properly attended to. She was meant to be a woman that couldn¡¯t survive without the attentions of her lovers, someone who would cling to their bed to be the tiniest bit closer to them.

    Lies and half-truths were pointless around the succubi. When they asked how she had fared, she would recount her actions and they would know them to be the truth. Talia doubted that she could share their love but she could give them her dedication. They would know that she remained stalwart in her role, even in their absence. She knew the elf would like that very much and hopefully Lou would appreciate it as well.

    However, she had a second motivation for her actions. The bed was incredibly comfortable. As a child, her bed was little better than a board. Later, she was treated to a stuffed mattress that was a delight to collapse onto at the end of a long day but left her feeling stiff in the morning.

    She didn¡¯t know what the large bed was made from or stuffed with, but it was leagues better than her stuffed mattress, what the wealthiest in the kingdom slept on. It was both soft and supportive. She could lay in it for hours and never want to rise. When she did, she felt relaxed and well-rested. It was an absolute marvel. Her magical talent aside, Lourianne could conquer the kingdom with her furniture alone, Talia was sure.

    After several lazy breaths, Talia finally convinced herself to rise. As she sat up, she circulated her mana, altering the flow so it included her eyes. She sighed with pleasure as the darkness abated, showing her the sun-soaked room and settling a little kernel of fear in her gut. While she could maintain her eyesight indefinitely, as it didn¡¯t require her to use mana, only circulate it a new way, it wasn¡¯t something she could maintain in her sleep.

    She always woke up to the darkness she had been living in for her whole life. Every time she did, it sparked a fear that her sight was a fluke, that it wouldn¡¯t last. But, with every morning that she greeted the bright sun, the fear became weaker.

    Talia slipped from the bed and went about her morning routine, which now included several minutes dedicated to choosing her outfit for the day. Before, when she was ignorant of her appearance, it didn¡¯t matter what she wore as long as it was comfortable. Lou had commented it was a waste. Kierra had gone as far as to procure her a new wardrobe.

    Now that she could appreciate the vibrant colors and intricate patterns on her new robes, Talia found herself hesitating with which one to choose. She got a strange and powerful delight from holding the fabric against her, to see how each one complimented her pale complexion and dark hair. She laid them out side by side on the bed and examined them with the focus of a master caster disassembling a spell.

    Sometimes, it could take half an hour to make a decision. Such a decadent waste of time.  Talia finally understood the women obsessed with fashion. Not those desperate to ride the waves of new trends but those who set them. She could spend all day mired in colorful cloth. If accessories, boots, and belts were added to her closet, well. Talia was sure she would get nothing done. Perhaps another favor to ask of her lovers.

    What a strange thing to think of, having lovers. Having people who would indulge her whims with joy. Not even her teacher would so such. He would provide for her and occasionally, he would give her gifts but never did he indulge her. Perhaps because Talia had never asked it of him. Such tactless behavior was beyond the scope of their contract, after all.

    She finally decided on a blue and white robe, sparing an extra moment to tie her hair off her shoulders before going downstairs. Breakfast waited in the dining room. No doubt prepared the moment Earl heard her wake. The boy was disturbingly competent. And while his cuisine could not compare to the succubus¡¯, it could easily shame even the cooks within the palace. Talia, having dined with the king before, was one of the few people in the kingdom that could confirm such.

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    He stood beside the dining table, his dark purple jacket and dark trousers without a crease or a mar. The boy seemed to be going through a growth spurt, as every time Talia saw him, he seemed a little taller, a little more robust. His brown hair had grown long but not unmanageable and there was a solidness to his presence that even grown men would envy.

    ¡°Good morning, Mistress Talia.¡± He stepped forward to pull out her seat. Not at the head of the table. That place was reserved for another and Earl respected it the same as she did. Talia was dedicated to her role but she couldn¡¯t compare to the boy¡¯s loyalty. It went beyond fanaticism to a realm of certainty. His service to Lou and her household was no longer a choice. It was a part of his very being. He could no more not dedicate himself to their service than he could stop his heart from beating.

    Undoubtedly the result of the mental affinity and a case Talia found absolutely fascinating. While her teacher would prefer the interrogators be a force for uncompromised good, the mental casters of the kingdom had been involved in a number unsavory ventures. Mental manipulation was a frequently visited project. Every person in power loved the idea of unquestionably loyal soldiers and servants.

    The problem was, with the kingdom¡¯s understanding of the mental affinity, such a thing was impossible. A person¡¯s will was a powerful thing. Subverting it or even guiding it took a lot of power.

    However, the mind was a delicate thing. Trying to hammer it into the desired shape could break it, leaving behind a person capable of unflinching loyalty but little else.

    The mental affinity was unlike the others. It required intention as much as a proper spell. None so far had demonstrated the careful blend of mental control and spell knowledge to achieve significant change to a personality without ego degradation. It was widely considered impossible.

    Yet a perfect example now stood before her. Most considered the practice immoral. Talia didn¡¯t have strong feelings one way or the other but she agreed that the results of the kingdom¡¯s previous attempts were pitiful souls. Had she gone on to succeed her teacher, she would have at least made sure that should such attempts continued to be made, as they no doubt would, they would at least be handled by someone with more brains than ambition.

    Her teacher would rather she fight against the very idea of it but like all things, the mental affinity was a tool. It had the potential to be disastrous, but it could also be just as helpful.

    As Earl demonstrated. Once, he was a bandit, barely scraping by. Now, he was strong, educated, and possessed of a refined charm that born noblemen couldn¡¯t achieve. People put the sanctity of the mind before all else but could it not be compromised when someone could reach inside them and make them a better person, literally and figuratively? Talia certainly thought so, if the person with such power could be trusted and the results all came out like Earl.

    ¡°A wonderful meal, as always,¡± Talia said once she enjoyed her fill of the breakfast. Lord Remmings had taught her to be generous with compliments. Her cold demeanor tended to make people uncomfortable but a kind word countered her stiff demeanor. She would have given it anyway. The boy¡¯s efforts deserved praise, no matter his consistent excellence.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad it was to your liking. What will you be doing for the rest of the day?¡± he asked, as he began to stack dishes.

    ¡°Anna needs to attend her studies.¡± Part of being in charge of the house meant taking care of the servants. That didn¡¯t include much but the youngest member of the house needed some supervision. Caring for a child was a¡­novel experience. Earl saw to her needs but deferred to her when it came to the girl¡¯s education. Teaching was one of the few things Earl didn¡¯t have much confidence in. Talia was the same but she could draw on her master¡¯s efforts with her own education. Earl hesitated to do the same. She didn¡¯t blame him, knowing who his teacher was.

    ¡°I will have the usual room readied. Perhaps¡ª¡± He paused, cocking his head like a curious hound. ¡°It seems we have a visitor. Shall I show them to the greeting room?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Serve Gajin¡¯s fourth blend. And remind him to name his creations.¡± The man was an exceptional gardener. He loved anything that involved his precious plants. Recently, he had started to make teas and they were quite good. Unfortunately, the man lacked any creative spirit and referred to the blends by numbers, a cruel fate for such masterful works.

    ¡°Right away.¡±

    Talia lingered at the table, giving Earl a chance to settle the guest and her a chance to sense their intentions. She spent most of her time at the estate but she would have to be deaf and dumb not to realize the unrest in Quest. A gathering tension centered around the events of what the city had deemed the Wild Night. Circumstances that Lou and her household were responsible for.

    It occurred to her that she, a known associate of Lou and currently living in her home, could become a target. The Hall had elected not to get involved and wouldn¡¯t allow saboteurs to roam the school, but they were not omniscient. Someone could slip past their notice. It paid to be cautious.

    A quick spell revealed that a single mind had entered the home and it didn¡¯t have any negative intentions. Satisfied, Talia rose from the table and went to greet them.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-08

    A redhead waited in the welcoming room, seated on a couch with a teacup in her hand. Earl stood to the side, watching her with the faintest of frowns. Likely because of the dirt on her clothes. The woman looked like she had spent hours rolling around in mud and her boots were in a rougher state.

    As the one in charge of maintaining the state of the home, the boy had good reason to be upset with her. Not that she seemed bothered. She was staring at her teacup pensively until Talia entered. Her head snapped up and she flashed the other woman a hesitant smile. ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Alyssa.¡±

    Talia took the seat across from her. The teacher looked much better than the last time she¡¯d been at the estate. Which wasn¡¯t saying much as she¡¯d been upset enough to scorch the walls in a child-like tantrum. Alyssa seemed much calmer now. Almost sheepish. It seemed her impromptu vacation had worked to calm her nerves.

    ¡°Talia. You look good.¡± Scarlet brows furrowed as Alyssa looked her up and down. ¡°Actually, you look really good. Er, I mean, you didn¡¯t used to dress up. Or tie your hair.¡±

    ¡°Since being able to see it, I¡¯ve taken more interest in my appearance.¡±

    ¡°Huh. I guess that makes¡ª¡± Alyssa froze. ¡°Did you just say you could see?¡±

    Talia smiled, feeling the tiniest bit of amusement when the redhead flinched. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°¡­sure. Why not?¡± With a deep sigh, Alyssa drained the rest of her tea and put the cup down with too strong a clatter. Earl¡¯s frown deepened but he wasted no time pouring a refill. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t surprise me with everything else that girl can do. Suppose the succubi are expert healers as well?¡±

    ¡°They are but they are not responsible for my sight.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Never mind.¡± She¡¯d had her fun but she wouldn¡¯t share the secrets of the household. ¡°I am much more interested in why you¡¯ve come. Given your last experience here, I thought you¡¯d avoid this place.¡±

    Alyssa winced. ¡°Yeah. Not very proud of how I acted then. I want to say I had a good excuse, saints, a few good excuses, but¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°Anyway, I came to apologize. Is that per¡ªahem. Is Lady Tome not around?¡±

    Talia didn¡¯t know the other woman well, but she did know that her brusque nature didn¡¯t care for the niceties that came with high society. For her to be using a title meant she was making a real effort at civility. Was she truly contrite or was she motivated by fear, having glimpsed true power?

    She thought to peek into the woman¡¯s mind for the answer, but it was a fleeting desire. Foremost because she wasn¡¯t strong enough to get away with such a gesture but also because she had been taught such a thing was wrong. She was feeling freer but not free enough to discard everything she¡¯d ever known.

    ¡°No and she won¡¯t be for quite some time. Lou and Kierra accompanied Alana home to participate in the campaigns.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? I can see the elf doing it, sure, and blondie¡¯s a northerner but that hedonist? Don¡¯t even mean that as an insult or anything. She just doesn¡¯t seem the type.¡±

    ¡°Lou is incredibly indulgent to the women she fancies.¡±

    ¡°Indulgent enough to fight a losing war?¡±

    ¡°Quite. Is it much of an imposition when she is in no real danger?¡±

    ¡°I guess she isn¡¯t with Kierra with her.¡± Alyssa sighed. ¡°Might have wasted my time.¡±

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    ¡°Oh?¡±

    Alyssa took reached for her teacup and took a long drink. ¡°This is really good. Everything in the north is so bitter. And this kind of is too but it¡¯s¡­nuanced? It¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Good?¡± Talia offered. To which the redhead childishly rolled her eyes. ¡°You seem to be avoiding the topic.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably nothing.¡± She put down her cup under the pressure of Talia¡¯s gaze. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve got connections with the guilds. Do some jobs with hunters now and again. Anyway, while I was catching up with a few people, I heard some stuff.¡±

    ¡°About the Wild Night.¡±

    ¡°Yes, and what a stupid name that is. Makes it sound like a party got out of hand when two dozen people died. Whatever. What¡¯s important is the other stuff I heard.¡±

    ¡°I assume they are plotting against Lou?¡±

    ¡°Not a surprise, huh? Thing is, it¡¯s not all plotting, at least not for all of them. The guilds are in chaos around that woman. Some of them are talking about vengeance, sure. Others are looking into her past, her family, and her known interests. Like merchants sizing up a potential customer. Or¡­like one noble house sizing up another. They don¡¯t want to go to war but¡­¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t want to go to war because the consequences would be too terrible. Instead, they seek other ways to bring down their enemies.¡±

    Alyssa snapped her fingers. ¡°That. So some of them want to fight and some of them don¡¯t want to fight but they still are looking for weak points, understand? It¡¯s weird and I don¡¯t like it. Whole city feels on edge.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you know who¡¯s saying what?¡±

    ¡°I have a rough idea.¡±

    ¡°And you were going to share that information in return for getting back into Lou¡¯s good graces.¡±

    Alyssa scowled. ¡°I would appreciate it if you didn¡¯t put it like that. Makes me sound like a brown noser. I messed up. I¡¯m trying to make it right. Besides, I heard about the whole circumstances. The guilds messed up first and they escalated it. Now, they¡¯re trying to take out Lou because she¡¯s a stain on their reputation. For all her faults, she doesn¡¯t deserve that.¡±

    Talia smile widened, enough that even those unaccustomed to her nature could recognize the expression. ¡°Admirable.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well.¡± The redhead downed the rest of her drink and stood. Talia copied her. ¡°I¡¯m looking out for those idiots as well. They have no idea what they¡¯re getting into.¡±

    ¡°Let me walk you out.¡±

    Talia escorted her to the front door, holding it open for Alyssa. The redhead paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. ¡°This is kind of late and I feel stupid for not asking before but what are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°I live here.¡±

    Alyssa stared at her with an unreadable expression. ¡°You live here?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°¡­why?¡±

    ¡°Because I am Lou¡¯s flower.¡± She watched Alyssa¡¯s growing confusion with amusement. ¡°A term you may understand better is mistress. Perhaps concubine. Her piece on the side?¡±

    ¡°I get it!¡± A hand massaged Alyssa¡¯s brow. ¡°I just¡­are you kidding?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± The question came out in a tone that could be mistaken as a whine. ¡°What in the name of the saints is so appealing about that woman? Is it really worth it?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I would bet you any amount of crowns that you couldn¡¯t find a partner able to offer the same benefits in all the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°¡­the sex is that good?¡±

    Talia¡¯s brows rose the slightest fraction. ¡°I never said we were intimate with each other.¡±

    ¡°But¡­you called yourself her mistress! Don¡¯t make it sound like I have a dirty mind!¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t been together in that way. The benefits I¡¯m talking about relate to other things.¡± Talia vaguely gestured about the house and Alyssa grunted in agreement. ¡°But if Kierra¡¯s performance is anything to judge by, I doubt I will hate being in Lou¡¯s bed.¡±

    An interesting array of emotions played out over the redhead¡¯s face. Talia, being less empathetic than most, couldn¡¯t begin to decipher them. In the end, Alyssa settled on a frown. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an ear out, let you know if I hear anything important.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Lou will appreciate it. Feel free to come by even if you don¡¯t have information. I¡¯d like to hear about your vacation.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°Was my request unclear?¡±

    ¡°No, no. It¡¯s just¡­you aren¡¯t friendly. Or hospitable. Ever.¡±

    ¡°A flower is alluring and inviting.¡±

    ¡°Fucking madness.¡±

    Talia watched Alyssa¡¯s departure, feeling quite good about herself having successfully combated her usual brusque nature. She must have been convincing to confuse the redhead. She was well on her way to embodying her role. ¡°Earl?¡±

    The boy appeared at her side before she could take another breath. ¡°At your service.¡±

    ¡°Fetch your sister for her lessons. And make arrangements to go into the city tonight.¡±

    ¡°At once.¡±

    Talia didn¡¯t doubt Alyssa¡¯s words. It was the opposite. She believed that the redhead was genuinely concerned about what she¡¯d heard. Therefore, she wanted to investigate things on her own. She was in charge of the house while the others were away. Sitting idly while a threat brewed wasn¡¯t fitting of that responsibility.

    Besides, a threat against Lou was a threat against her. And Umphrieltalia wasn¡¯t taught to treat her enemies well.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-09

    Umphrieltalia didn¡¯t think much of children. During her time in the orphanage, she was always an outcast. Once she was older, her focus was entirely consumed with the mental affinity and it was never to be used against children, both out of moral concerns and the fragility of a young mind.

    Her mentor briefly mentioned her having children but Talia was never interested in the idea. Having a firm understanding of herself, she knew she was too selfish to properly care for another. Especially without the guidance of a contract. She¡¯d also hated the idea of passing on her affliction. Cold as she may be, Talia wasn¡¯t without compassion. She didn¡¯t want to confine an innocent to a lifetime of darkness.

    Many things had changed since the time Talia rejected her teacher¡¯s first marriage prospects. She still didn¡¯t have any desire for motherhood but given what she stood to gain from her current partners and the truth of her eyes¡­she could be convinced.

    With such thoughts, she approached her duty to educate Anna as an experiment, taking care to examine her every emotion. There wasn¡¯t much. She felt nothing as the little blonde wandered into the study they used for her lessons, sitting at the table with a small pout. She also didn¡¯t feel anything when the girl growled at her as she sat in a chair opposite her.

    She supposed it was a good thing. Talia felt the same ambivalence for most of the responsibilities she¡¯d had throughout her life but had handled her duties with no less efficiency for her lack of emotional attachment. It boded well for any future offspring, whether hers or another¡¯s. She didn¡¯t think for a moment that Lou or her partners would remain childless. Such overflowing love was bound to bear fruit and with Kierra¡¯s abilities, it was more than possible, no matter how their biology differed from the norm.

    She also didn¡¯t think that she could escape being involved in the childrearing. A flower was healing, nurturing those who nurtured it. Beyond that, Lou craved a loving household. Talia didn¡¯t need to peek into the noblewoman¡¯s mind to know her most obvious of desires. Even if she hadn¡¯t spent a lifetime deducing people¡¯s motivations in preparation for her eventual role as the head interrogator, the subtle hints given to her by Kierra would be more than enough to divine Lou¡¯s character.

    ¡°Good morning, Anna.¡±

    ¡°Morning, Mistress Talia,¡± the little girl grumbled. Anna had not taken a liking to her new teacher, but she still treated her well. Both because of her good manners and because of what Talia represented. She was left in charge of the house by Lou. That meant, in the noblewoman¡¯s absence, Talia wielded Lou¡¯s authority. An authority the young girl respected very much, the same as her brother.

    ¡°Have you eaten?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then we will get right to it. Do you remember what we reviewed yesterday?¡±

    The blonde head dipped in a nod and something squeaked. Anna reached up and pulled a small ball of golden fur with big blue eyes from her head. One of her pets. Talia didn¡¯t understand the appeal of the creatures, but the girl kept them secure in their pen outside and they didn¡¯t cause any trouble. Better, they kept the girl calm during her lessons. She smiled as she stroked the soft body and answered her question.

    ¡°Fortitude.¡±

    ¡°Tell me what you remember.¡±

    Anna frowned but a squeak from her pet eased her frustration. ¡°Oldest city in the kingdom. It started as a large war camp where all the human armies gathered. Then, they built walls to keep out the monsters. The safety drew others. The camp grew bigger, the walls expanded to accommodate them.¡±

    ¡°And soon enough, it became a city,¡± Talia said, when she was sure that the girl had no intention of continuing. Anna didn¡¯t mention most of yesterday¡¯s lecture, including the names of the relevant generals within the camp, the tension caused by people from many different cultures being forced to live together, and the resulting chaos as the groups attempted to establish a new order.

    She supposed the details didn¡¯t stick because the girl found them unimportant.

    Talia agreed. Despite the tutors hired by her teacher hammering the entire history of Harvest into her young mind, little of it was relevant in the present. The time of Fortitude¡¯s founding was certainly a riveting story, but, in the end, the struggles of those generals meant nothing. None of their schemes to assume control of the last human kingdom meant anything before the might of the First King.

    Those generals, seeing the direction of fate, turned their attention away from the crown and began to battle for second place, the consolation prize. That battle continued into the present, the generals having become nobles and swapping their swords for the ways of social warfare. At this point, the original motivations mattered little, especially for someone like Anna.

    What did she need to know about the jockeying of the powerful? She was a servant, a hand with which to carry out her master¡¯s will. Deeper thoughts weren¡¯t the girl¡¯s strength nor her concern. But it was Talia¡¯s role to teach. She would give her the knowledge and the girl would do with it what she will.

    ¡°Then, we will move on to the Fortitude of the present.¡± With an impeccable timing that bordered on unnatural, a sharp knock announced Earl¡¯s entry into the room. He carried a tea tray that he set on the table. The steward bowed to Talia, ruffled his sister¡¯s hair, and exited the room with precise movements that were equally born of care and efficiency.

    Talia depended on servants all her life and not a one had a fraction of the boy¡¯s competence. She couldn¡¯t help pitying them, those who would dedicate their lives to something and always be found wanting, and prayed to the saints that the poor wretches would never have cause to meet the Tome servants while fixing herself a cup of tea.

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    Anna did the same. Once they were both ready, Talia launched into her lesson. ¡°After the war, the founders had a whole continent to explore, settle, and govern. Fortitude was a great place for a military installation but a poor location for living. It was also more convenient for the capital to be closer to the center of the country. However, Fortitude was also an important location. It had enormous cultural value and, more importantly, the area was rich in ore, notably iron.

    ¡°Fortitude¡¯s iron armed the human armies. Therefore, the First King bequeathed the city to one of his staunchest allies, a family that would take the name Henagan. The other generals were given edicts to settle the rest of Harvest.

    ¡°Few of them retained their prominence though some successfully held onto their power. The most notable of which being the Rosefields. A very interesting tale but irrelevant to the lesson. Our focus is Fortitude.

    ¡°Despite its plentiful resources, Fortitude remained a hard city. There were many reasons why but chief among them was the relationship between the royal family and the Henagans. The First King and the first patriarch of the family made an agreement that the Henagans would provide the capital with iron at cost until the king could outfit an army of ten thousand. Not just with weapons but armor. Suffice it to say, it was a lot of iron.

    ¡°For decades, the contract meant that Fortitude couldn¡¯t trade its only resource to anyone but the crown. While the other cities were constantly growing and expanding, it stagnated. By the time the deal concluded, the Henagan family was doomed.

    ¡°The other families already disliked them, perceiving them to be the reason they were ousted, a great insult no matter that some had profited immensely. Besides that, the distance between the new cities and the lack of roads made trade difficult. Fortitude could only thrive in the shadow of the crown and the royal family took full advantage of the situation. While they no longer took the iron at cost, the crown didn¡¯t allow the Henagan family to charge what it was worth while charging inflated prices for anything they traded. Any questions?¡±

    Anna stared at her with a blank but attentive gaze and shook her head.

    ¡°Are you following the lesson?¡±

    ¡°The Hennies rebelled, didn¡¯t they?¡±

    Talia felt the first hint of interest since taking up her educational duties. Perhaps because it was the first time her student had answered with anything other than monosyllabic grunt. ¡°Oh? Why do you think that?¡±

    ¡°Lady Lou says everyone wants to live a good life. We have a good life and we have to protect it. That¡¯s why we work hard. Become strong. Hennies didn¡¯t have a good life. No trade means no money. No money means no nice clothes, warm house, or good food. Anna kill for good life. Hennies do too?¡±

    It wasn¡¯t the cleanest explanation but¡­ ¡°Very good. As for the rebellion of the Henagan family, that is still a matter of speculation. Some say they were trying to escape the crown¡¯s control through secret trade deals, including one with the then up and coming Guiness family.¡± Talia thought of something and smiled faintly. ¡°A theory that may interest you is that the family turned to summoning to solve their woes.¡±

    Talia was both surprised and amused to see the girl¡¯s head poke up, her bland focus suddenly intense at the mention of the Tome¡¯s family traditional art. ¡°Indeed. You may have been told that Fortitude is currently under the control of a powerful manabeast¡­but that is a lie. In fact, it is under the control of a powerful elemental. One that some believed was contracted by desperate members of the Henagan family.

    ¡°The previous king went to war to regain control of the city but too many years of peace had softened the kingdom¡¯s fighters. Though even if they were in their prime, it was a battlefield unlike any other. The elemental¡¯s forces dug a network of tunnels beneath the city and connected them to the nearby mines.

    ¡°The knights, used to fighting on the open plains that dominate the central area of the kingdom, were grossly unprepared to fight in the cramped confines. It negated the kingdom¡¯s greater numbers and better weaponry, as there is no room for shield lines and pikemen underground.

    ¡°It was the decision of our current king, Sebastian kor Harvest, to end the fighting. Having seen ample evidence of the creature¡¯s intelligence, he felt Harvest would best be served by negotiating with it. And he was right. Peace was reached and now, more iron flows from the region than ever before. However, that begs many questions.

    ¡°Foremost, why would the elemental agree to a ceasefire? After all, its forces were winning. The kingdom¡¯s earth casters couldn¡¯t stop them from expanding their tunnels. If they spread their burrows throughout Harvest, they could take the whole continent. Yet, they settled for one city and its surroundings.

    ¡°Adding on to that question is, what is there that has captured the elemental¡¯s attention? With its powers, it could have claimed any land on this continent. So, why Fortitude? What is there? Something the founders missed? Or is it there for the same thing we were, iron? And if so, what would it need that iron for?

    ¡°Lastly, assuming that there was a design behind the peaceful negotiations with the crown and the acquisition of a large amount of iron, what would be the consequences should the peace be broken? These are chaotic times we live in. If the nefarious forces had designs on the kingdom, now would be the time to enact them.¡±

    It was strange how true her words were. Never had the kingdom faced so many crises in such a short time, each one more dire than the last. The most recent of which being the goblinoid invasion, something she¡¯d been apprised of as one of the kingdom¡¯s stronger casters and her teacher¡¯s disciple. While she had formerly severed her connection to the interrogators, many hadn¡¯t accepted it and she had yet to break trust.

    ¡°Now, we are going to have a discussion about the possible reasons for a hostile force to occupy a city like Fortitude, as well as the implications of the peace shattering.¡± Anna groaned, clearly not thrilled at the prospect of extended discussion but now that Talia was aware that the girl was capable of deeper reasoning, it would be negligent not to explore it.

    An hour into their discussion, another knock on the door interrupted them. Earl opened the door, pausing in the doorway. ¡°Forgive the interruption, Mistress Talia, but you have a visitor.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± She couldn¡¯t think of anyone with reason to visit, except for Alyssa and she didn¡¯t expect the woman to accept her invitation to return so soon.

    ¡°A Lord Remmings.¡±

    Talia briefly stiffened, a rare anxiety straightening her spine. Then she relaxed and stood from her chair. ¡°Anna, we¡¯ll pick this up tomorrow. Continue thinking on the topic.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Mistress Talia,¡± the girl said in a rush while practically running toward the door, eager to escape before her good luck changed. Her brother let her pass with a shake of his head. ¡°Earl, show him in and see that he¡¯s comfortable. Inform him I¡¯ll be there shortly.¡±

    ¡°As you say.¡±

    The young steward retreated and closed the door behind him. Talia closed her eyes. Being liberated for eternal darkness was the happiness moment of her life but she still found comfort in it. It was familiar to her in a way nothing else was or could be. Several deep breaths settled her emotions that threatened to become unruly. Not even someone as stoic as her could remain unmoved when facing family.

    Settled, she smoothed her robe and left the room. Talia had always known that severing her old contracts would not be simple or without consequences. Truthfully, she would have preferred throwing Kierra them. One of the perks of being a flower was that there were others who would handle things that she found annoying.

    But it seemed fate wanted her to deal with her past personally.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-10

    Talia first met Lord Remmings one year after being brought to the capital by the interrogators. The law dictated that any orphan with the mental affinity was to be taken into their custody, without question, but her new guardians didn¡¯t think much of her.

    It wasn¡¯t the first or the last time someone would see her lack of sight and think she suffered an impairment of the mind. The tutor meant to instruct them disregarded her for months until he noticed that she was soaking up the knowledge from his lectures faster than a rag taking in water after being dropped into a puddle.

    The tutor was further astounded when, after the children were taught their first spell, she showed exceptional control over her mana. Only then did he report to Lord Remmings about her.

    The nobleman showed that he was their leader for a reason. It took him a day to understand Talia¡¯s ability. The same day, he offered to make her his disciple. She agreed and was moved into his house by the end of the week.

    Over the years, their relationship changed. At least, for her teacher. He began to see her less as a disciple and more as a true heir. She would have been content to spend the rest of her life studying magic but he insisted she concern herself with other things. Etiquette. Music. Literature, even if the stories had to be read to her.

    Like Lou, he attempted to instill an appreciation for better clothes in her, with much less success. As she grew older, it was learning to dance and attending parties. Once she reached the age of majority, he dropped hints about romance before progressing to introducing marriage candidates.

    It was no secret that he thought of Talia as a daughter. It was too bad she didn¡¯t think of him as a father and never would. If he had come seeking compensation for time invested in a failed venture, she would entertain him and work to seek a satisfactory arrangement for all parties. Perhaps she would share her idea of the interrogators separating from the crown earlier than anticipated.

    However, if he had come as a disappointed father seeking answers about the perceived betrayal and abandonment of a daughter¡­she was afraid he would be leaving with nothing but more disappointment.

    As it was the first time she¡¯d truly seen her teacher, she found herself studying him with interest. Interestingly, he was quite as she imagined him. He had the pale complexion common to natives of the capital, dark hair liberally streaked with silver, and equally dark eyes. His long face and beak-like nose gave the impression of a bird of prey, a fitting look for one many thought of as a predator of the mind.

    Yet, he also differed from her imaginations. He usually spoke to her in a warm tone that she thought would be reflected in his clothes, but the man wore black from head to toe. And though he was a strong caster, his body didn¡¯t reflect that strength, the thinning black unable to hide his soft body. Age and a stressful life had left their marks on his face, the wrinkles more prominent when he smiled while enjoying a cup of tea. He always fussed for her to wear more in cold weather, and she was glad to see he took his own advice, his gloves lying on the table and his jacket presumably taken by Earl when he arrived.

    He looked up as she entered, smiling broadly as he set down his teacup. ¡°Talia,¡± he called warmly as he got to his feet and held out his arms. Out of habit, she stepped forward, letting him kiss her forehead before holding her at arms¡¯ length. For the sake of her role, she offered him as much as a smile as she was able. Having raised her for over a decade, he was accustomed to her muted expressions and the smile only made him more excited.

    ¡°You look wonderful, my dear.¡± He looked her over, an eyebrow going up. ¡°You¡¯ve changed your tune from assuring me one piece of cloth was much the same as another.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve recently had cause to take more care for my appearance.¡±

    ¡°Would a young man be the cause? If so, there is no need for these recent dramatics. I¡¯d hope to see you taken care of by a man of means but I¡¯m happy you¡¯ve found love and will welcome the gentleman with open arms¡­he is a gentleman?¡±

    Talia carefully stepped out of his hands. ¡°Shall we have a seat?¡±

    ¡°I believe I¡¯m worried.¡± Lord Remmings reclaimed his seat and Talia sat beside him. ¡°I told you to ask someone to sit when you had to deliver particularly unpleasant news. Taught you the exact tone to use, though you haven¡¯t quite mastered it. Far from.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you will like what I have to say.¡±

    He sighed, taking another sip of his tea and humming in pleasure. ¡°This is really good. Do you think you could spare some? You would think the capital would be home to the finest delicacies in the kingdom but so many generations of bad taste have made sure that a price tag is prioritized before quality. Really, the people of Summer Spire will buy anything if it¡¯s expensive enough.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re avoiding the conversation, sir.¡±

    ¡°And as usual, my dear, you are far too direct. But you¡¯re right. I¡¯m prolonging the inevitable. Then, tell me. Why are you abandoning your commitment and two decades of effort?¡± His lips twitched, his tell for when he was holding back strong emotions. ¡°Why are you abandoning your family?¡±

    Talia was a blunt person but she was not so out of touch with the world that she couldn¡¯t understand when the truth could be hurtful. There was a way to say certain things. ¡°In a way, you are not wrong. I¡¯ve found love.¡±

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    The serious atmosphere was broken by her mentor¡¯s humorously wide eyes and obvious surprise. He would be upset about her decision no matter what she said but he also cared for her happiness. Being told she¡¯d canceled their contract because he was lacking would bring nothing but pain. Being told she had forsaken the interrogators for love? He wouldn¡¯t be happy, but he would understand. Perhaps, in time, he might even approve.

    ¡°Truly?!¡± The man seemed ready to burst with joy. Probably because he had resigned himself to Talia becoming an unmarried spinster. ¡°Well, where is the scoundrel that¡¯s stolen my precious daughter? Don¡¯t worry, dear. I don¡¯t plan to hurt him. It¡¯s just my due to bark and bluster a bit.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s away, participating in the north¡¯s yearly campaign.¡±

    ¡°¡­she?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Lord Remmings cleared his throat. ¡°I¡­see. That would explain why you refused all the partners I put before you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a preference for either sex, sir. Lou intrigues me as an individual.¡±

    ¡°Lou? ¡­you wouldn¡¯t happen to be referring to Lourianne Tome, by any chance?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°¡­the Lourianne Tome infamous for marrying an elven woman? The girl that was almost brought in for treason after assaulting Prince Samuel? The rumored womanizing, hedonistic pervert with two contracted succubi?¡±

    ¡°The same.¡±

    The man raised a hand and massaged his brow. ¡°Dare I ask?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s quite simple. She fulfills all my desires.¡± She chuckled as his features twisted in a scowl. ¡°Is that not what you wanted for me?¡±

    ¡°Of course it is, dearest, but¡­the woman¡¯s reputation is horrendous. Given she¡¯s also taking you from your duties, I can¡¯t help imagining the worst.¡±

    ¡°She isn¡¯t taking me from anything. This is something I decided on my own. Something I was thinking about before I met Lou.¡±

    ¡°Tali¡ª¡±

    ¡°The interrogators are a lame dog that has lost its teeth, its claws, and its instincts. They are dumb and delirious. They are not a future but a chain to the past. I want no part of it.¡±

    Lord Remmings stared at her with a blank expression as she hurled insults. Then he sighed. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong but you forgot one thing. The interrogators are necessary. Harvest needs us, no matter our problems. That is why I never abandoned them. That is why they need you, Talia. Someone to guide them. Someone to inspire the thirst for improvement that all the best casters have.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t need me, sir. You know the kind of woman I am. I would have fulfilled any obligation I accepted but I am not a leader. Certainly not one that inspires others. I work for myself.¡±

    ¡°Better a woman true to herself than a man beholden to many masters. Talia, please. Will you make me beg? I know you¡¯re smart enough to know what you refusing the position means. Do you want to see a repeat of the Grimoires?¡±

    ¡°There won¡¯t be.¡±

    ¡°Who will stop them? Not I and I know no other with the power.¡±

    ¡°The same person who stopped the Grimoires.¡±

    ¡°Is that what interested you? There is no evidence that Lourianne Tome was responsible for the Grimoire patriarch¡¯s fall, no matter the rumors spread by her uncle. Yes, she¡¯s contracted a thrall, but it would be meaningless before Gordon Sr.¡¯s virtue. Whatever happened to that family had nothing to do with her.¡±

    There. That was the problem with her teacher and the interrogators. They had no imagination, could not fathom events beyond their experience. In their world, an unknown girl with a basic fire affinity couldn¡¯t best a royal advisor, so she didn¡¯t.

    They thought the same when it came to the mental affinity. What they had achieved was the peak of magic. What they hadn¡¯t was impossible. Disciples were meant to become their teachers, not surpass them.

    Her teacher thought he was different, but he was the same as the rest. Still chained to the same ideas. He thought to inject the interrogators with new blood when he should reject them. Throw the whole rotten concept to the wind and start anew. Spit on the title master caster because it meant nothing and approach magic like a beginner, who saw the world with no preconceptions and challenged every notion.

    ¡°That was just a guess and has nothing to do with my relationship with Lou.¡±

    ¡°And what about her wife? Do you wish to be someone¡¯s mistress? A¡­a woman¡¯s mistress? It¡¯s insulting.¡±

    ¡°You taught me that titles were meaningless.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about the title!¡± Lord Remmings let out an explosive sigh and got to his feet. ¡°Enough. Knowing you, I thought there was a rationale reason for your decision and we could handle this through discourse, but it¡¯s clear you¡¯ve taken leave of your senses. I¡¯m happy you¡¯ve finally found love but like any parent with a wayward child, I will intervene to save you from yourself. We¡¯re returning to the capital. Your¡­lover may visit you there. If she truly cares for you, then she will help convince not to give up a bright future to simply warm a bed at another woman¡¯s convenience.¡±

    Talia didn¡¯t blame him for his reaction. All her life, she had followed his orders without question. Never fought for a single desire, as they paled before her desire for magic, magic she thought she could only have following his designs. Though he claimed to know her, he never understood her. Didn¡¯t need to when a firm voice resolved their few disagreements.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shame, sir. I also hoped this could be solved with calm discourse.¡± As Talia rose from her seat, Earl quietly slipped into the room, face blank and arms hanging loosely at his sides. ¡°I won¡¯t be leaving.¡±

    ¡°Talia, enough!¡±

    ¡°Indeed, that is quite enough. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll have to ask you to leave until you regain control of yourself.¡±

    His disbelief became cold frustration as she didn¡¯t budge. ¡°I see. Well, we are not savages. I won¡¯t drag you out by the arm.¡± He picked his gloves up. The next moment, he startled as Earl suddenly appeared at his side with his coat but nodded his thanks.

    The fool probably thought the boy had fetched it once he heard a raised voice. Talia knew that he had fetched in the few moments they¡¯d stared each other down. It was a little amusing that a man of her teacher¡¯s experience would dismiss the most dangerous being in the room. Being, because Talia wasn¡¯t sure he could still be called human.

    ¡°I hope I may visit again,¡± he said while shrugging on the coat. ¡°Perhaps after Lourianne has returned. A face-to-face meeting might change my views of the woman.¡±

    Talia thought it was sad that he still thought his approval mattered but, for the sake of all he had done for her and getting him to leave the house peacefully, she played along. ¡°That would be wonderful. You¡¯ll have to come to dinner. We have a fantastic chef.¡±

    ¡°¡­I will say that you are different, dearest. A personal change for the better, I think, even I do not agree with some of your thinking. Your heart is certainly warmer.¡±

    ¡°Allow me to escort you to the door,¡± Earl said. She was sure that her teacher took it as a polite overture but she recognized it as a threat. Savage or not, if her teacher made any more trouble, the boy would drag him out by his arm. Or perhaps his throat.

    Dinner would certainly be interesting. She hoped Lou wouldn¡¯t blame her for any untoward behavior from her teacher. If his tantrum ruined her efforts, she would be¡­upset.

    Very upset.

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-11

    Samuel kor Harvest, second prince of the Harvest kingdom, stood alone in his bedroom, studying his reflection, something he¡¯d been doing for far too long. The men of the harvest line were blessed with tall physiques and broad shoulders. A figure fit for a general. One his brother appreciated, with his bulging arms and dreams of leading in army.

    It wasn¡¯t meant for a man like Samuel, who preferred socializing over a cup of tea in a finely tailored vest over swinging a sword bare-chested. He didn¡¯t hate how he looked. He simply found himself¡­unsatisfactory. A recent opinion forged in the aftermath of rejection by Cecilia Rosefield.

    It was disgraceful, a prince pining over a woman the way he did. If Samuel saw his brother, saints, any man of status, making such a fool of himself, he¡¯d certainly have more than a few things to say about the behavior. But the recognition of fault did not give one the strength to correct it. Truly, it was hard to even acknowledge the folly when his fault felt so right, bittersweet though the feelings were.

    He had met Cecilia when they were children. She had stayed at the palace for a period of three years while studying under a famous dancer in the capital. A ruse, of course. Cecilia¡¯s talent in dance could only be described as middling and she had little interest in it. The true purpose of her visit was to get closer to the royal family through Angelica, endearing herself to them as the odd girl¡¯s playmate.

    Forming alliances through children was a well-established tradition. Few bonds trumped the innocent trust forged by the young and nurtured into adulthood. While marriage was the preferred result of such pairings, as blood held a special kind of power, simpler relationships could also move the kingdom. Such as the bond between a young princess and her good friend.

    The Rosefield¡¯s scheme didn¡¯t go as planned, whoever concocted it underestimating the strange mind of his younger sister. Samuel was sure the girl was simple, but such words couldn¡¯t be applied to royalty. Therefore, whenever people discussed Angelica kor Harvest and her odd behavior, they used misleading terms like ¡°eccentric¡± or ¡°unique¡±. Cecilia was a charming creature, but no charm could overcome a soul that spent most its time in its own world. Still, the noblewoman managed to catch the eye of a royal. A prince rather than a princess.

    Samuel could only lament his fate that his older sister, Selestia, was engaged to a Rosefield before he became aware of his feelings. The royal family often intermarried with them, but if it was done no more than once a generation. Too many ties to a single family could be taken as a statement. A significant obstacle to the second prince¡¯s romantic ambitions.

    Samuel might have still convinced his parents to approve his union with Cecilia. Once Dowager ascended to the throne, Samuel would be stripped of the Harvest name and given a new surname. His children would be of royal blood, but they would not be ¡°royals¡±. Then, those who looked on with disapproving eyes while muttering about how the Rosefields thought to wed one of their daughters to two kings would be calmed. He was willing to keep their affair discrete for a few years, being in no rush to start a family.

    It would also mean leaving the palace. The further he was from the kingdom¡¯s seat of power, the better the nobles would feel. He was sure Dowager also didn¡¯t want him hanging about. A back-up heir wandering the palace after his brother had been crowned invited ill rumors. When the time came, Samuel would take his new name, a bag of gold, and disappear to an estate at the edge of a quaint town. Enjoy a carefree life afforded to those born into means without purpose.

    He told his plan to Cecilia after his confession, hurriedly reassuring her when he saw her frown. His plan was foolproof¡­or so he thought. There was one fault he hadn¡¯t anticipated and that was that Cecilia didn¡¯t want to marry him.

    Oh, she didn¡¯t outright say so. He was a prince and one did not offend a royal. She wrapped her intention in societal concerns, self-depreciating remarks, and traditional fears, but Samuel was no idiot. He knew when someone was being kind to spare his feelings. Cecilia always spoke kindly to him. He foolishly thought it was because she cared about him, not his title, but her rejection destroyed the fantasy he¡¯d unknowingly wrapped himself in.

    Neither her voice nor her expression gave anything away. And that was the problem. After Samuel poured out his heart, nothing changed. She wasn¡¯t flustered, excited, dismayed, shy, angered, nothing. His love meant nothingto her. Didn¡¯t cause her lips to twitch or a brow to rise. She wore the same face she always wore.

    It was then that he realized that the face he found so charming was a mask. Cecilia¡¯s kindness, her words of admiration, her invitations for walks in the evening, and her smiles¡­all of it was an act.

    That should have been enough to end his infatuation, but the heart wasn¡¯t a thing of reason. He didn¡¯t resent her. She hadn¡¯t tried to manipulate him, all her actions acceptable in the context of friendship. She had only made efforts to be pleasant company and he had read too much into it.

    To blame her for hiding her heart was to blame a dog for barking. It was something instilled in her from the time she could talk. He was much the same. His passions merely got the best of him in her presence.

    Rather than distance himself and move on, he selfishly used her awareness of his position to keep her close, subtly using her family to pressure her into attending the Hall with him. Holding onto some faint hope that if she saw him excel at magic and he had the opportunity to woo her, he might sway her heart. A foolish thought. He¡¯d never shown a talent for casting and if she wasn¡¯t impressed by the palace and the luxuries it afforded, she wouldn¡¯t be impressed by what he could manage in the Gold Dorm.

    His efforts only awarded him a heavy heart and a crippled ego. Despite many other noblewomen telling him how handsome he was whenever he graced a ball and Cecilia assuring him her reluctance to marry him had nothing to do with his looks, it had to play some part. Beautiful people were beloved. Lourianne Tome proved that.

    Cecilia had warmed up to that pervert quickly. Oh, she didn¡¯t abandon her mask completely, Samuel didn¡¯t think she could, but she approached the woman differently. She¡¯d¡­flirted with her. Something she¡¯d never done with Samuel.

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    If he was kind to himself, he¡¯d say she didn¡¯t want to give him false hope to spare his feelings. The truth was she would never entertain the possibility with him but would with Lourianne Tome. A¡­striking woman, even he had to admit. The evidence was plain. The allure of beauty could even transcend sex. He simply lacked it.

    All this time he pursued his crush, it felt like sticking his hand into a murky pond. He had no idea if what he sought was just out of his reach or if it was never there at all, but as long as he didn¡¯t know, he could hope.

    Now, with Cecilia¡¯s preferences laid bare, he knew he had no chance. And it left him feeling out of sorts. She had been his goal for so long, Samuel wasn¡¯t sure what to do with it, her, taken from him. It was all a bit disconcerting. While his brother was out waging wars, he was walking the halls of his home with an empty head. As inspiring as a fart and just as useless.

    Perhaps his father was right. His unrequited love had kept him a boy for too long, his conduct at the Hall best described as childish and his lack of thought since juvenile.

    Perhaps it was time to grow up.

    Whatever that meant. The king had mentioned marriage, but he knew first hand that a wife and family weren¡¯t guaranteed to change a man. Samuel had no dreams besides those of passions. No inclinations. No obligations. It was daunting, walking down a road with no signs.

    A knock interrupted his thoughts. ¡°Enter,¡± he called, never turning away from his pensive reflection.

    ¡°Your carriage is ready, Your Highness,¡± a servant told him. ¡°Your escort is also prepared whenever Your Highness is ready to depart.¡±

    It was amazing how the words, despite being full of deference, carried the weight of an order. His escort was comprised of royal knights. They were the faithful servants of the crowns but to keep them waiting was an insult. One did not insult the strongest men in the kingdom. So, while Samuel determined when they took off, he didn¡¯t dare delay for long.

    ¡°Tell them I¡¯ll be right down.¡±

    Samuel sighed once the servant departed. A finger stroked his smooth chin, wondering if a little hair would make him look more distinguished. A moment later, he dismissed the idea as ridiculous and turned away from the mirror. He grabbed his sword, a simple blade as his powerful artifact had been stripped from him, and departed from his rooms. A royal knight waited at his door and silently fell in step behind him.

    An unusual precaution but the royal knights always tightened security when a member of the royal family travelled, as it was the best time for an assassin to strike. The man shadowing him would join a contingent of eleven knights to escort him out of the city. After sunset, eight of the knights would turn back while the remaining four ensured he made it to the Grand Hall safely.

    The heavy presence as they left the city would dissuade those foolish enough to try to make a bag of gold by assaulting a carriage with the crest of the royal family on the side. The others with the experience to know that most of the knights would return to the palace come day¡¯s end were also experienced enough not to trouble themselves with troublesome matters. Besides that, four royal knights were more than enough to handle what the wilds of Harvest could throw at them.

    His carriage, one and a half times larger than the average size, painted red and white with the large head of a golden stag on its side, waited in the main courtyard, surrounded by mounted knights along with three servants that would care for him while on the road. The same scene he always saw when he traveled. But there was an unusual aspect.

    Through the open door of the carriage, he saw that someone was already seated on one of its benches. A young woman who sat with her head turned toward the shuttered window, dark hair obscuring her features. She turned as he approached, spearing him with cold hazel eyes, a remarkable feature on an otherwise plain face.

    ¡°Good morning, my lady.¡± While Samuel was confused to find a stranger in his carriage, she couldn¡¯t be anyone ordinary. She also must have an invitation or the knights would have thrown her out. Best to be respectful until he had more details. ¡°I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m no one important enough to be noticed by a prince. These circumstances are just as strange to me as they must be to you.¡±

    Not important enough to be known to him but important enough to commandeer a royal carriage. Samuel hesitated, irritation mounting as he cautiously stood outside his own carriage.

    ¡°Good on you, Your Highness, for your caution, though there¡¯s no need for it. Your hounds would have already bitten me to death if I were any threat.¡± A few of the royal knights shifted hearing the borderline insult and Samuel raised his estimation of the woman¡¯s standing for daring to speak it. ¡°My name is Orphelia Yemen. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is mine, I¡¯m sure.¡± Samuel may not have recognized her but he recognized the Yemen name. On the surface, Lord Yemen was a simple baron of an unimportant territory three days ride north of the capital. A select few knew that he was also his father¡¯s favorite spymaster. Truly, the last person the prince wanted to be in close confines with was anyone related to that snake, but he understood there had to be a good reason for her presence.

    Samuel stepped into the carriage, taking a seat on the opposite bench and closing the door behind him. In moments, they were underway. ¡°Will we be dropping you off somewhere?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re heading for the same destination. It will be my first year as an acolyte at the Hall.¡±

    ¡°Congratulations.¡± Samuel wondered why no one had told him that a Yemen was attending the Hall. Then he remembered his cousin Sebas and Robert Taking another discrete look at her, he figured she would make the perfect minder. No one would see a threat when looking at her and she had a face that was easy to trust. A pretty smile as well. He was a little afraid for her, being so close to young men of privilege but dismissed the thought quickly. Anyone sent to be the minder for a member of royal blood would be more than capable of defending herself.

    Another thought occurred to him. If a minder from the Yemen family was accompanying him, how did his cousin die at the hands of assassins? Also, why was she returning? He supposed Robert was important enough to warrant protection but, at the very least, she should have been replaced. Or perhaps she was the replacement?

    As the second prince, few matters of import were brought to his attention, but it was annoying to know that he wasn¡¯t apprised of such important events taking place so close to him.

    They sat in silence for a time, Samuel gleaming as much information as possible from discrete glances. It was Orphelia who broke the silence, her words proceeded by a heavy sigh.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a reticent man, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°Being too familiar with a lady could be taken the wrong way.¡±

    ¡°Certainly being too distant might be taken as an insult.¡± She waved him off before he could speak any apologies. ¡°I had hoped to do this delicately but your lack of conversational skills forces me to be a bit blunt. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s obvious that there is a reason I¡¯ve usurped a seat on your carriage.¡±

    ¡°I thought so, yes.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple. I am meant to serve as extra protection in these uncertain times while sating my curiosity.¡±

    ¡°Curiosity?¡±

    ¡°About your interactions with Lourianne Tome.¡±

    The prince barely held back a frown at the sound of her name. ¡°May I ask why a Yemen is inquiring into her?¡±

    ¡°I would have thought the reasons obvious. There are a number of good ones, especially with this recent business regarding the summoners.¡±

    Samuel nodded absently. ¡°There¡¯s little I can offer you. Our interactions were brief and¡­unpleasant. There¡¯s nothing I can tell you about the woman.¡±

    ¡°Life has taught me that people know more than they think. Don¡¯t worry, Your Highness. We will explore your recollections carefully and leisurely. It is quite some time till we reach our destination, after all.¡±

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-12

    Gourd was a simple man who lived a simple life and that was just fine by him. Born the son of a Dawn dockworker and too mundane to aspire to much more, he dedicated his life to the sea.

    Most of his days were spent hauling crates that contained her treasures, down ship ramps and onto carts to be taken to market. When he wanted quieter work and a gentler pace, he hauled nets on one of the fishing boats. Somedays, he did both, either when he needed a bit more coin to spoil the family or when he couldn¡¯t stand to be around them a moment longer than necessary.

    It was for the former reason that he found himself hauling on a net just after dawn, straining alongside two other men. Whatever they¡¯d caught weighed a fair bit, which could be either good or bad. The waters near their province were rather tame but one could never be too careful. Powerful creatures gravitated to the Great Tree, blessed be its branches. Not even the residents of the sea were immune to the allure, despite not having the ability to reach it.

    While it was commonly said that their great ancestor resided in the center of the continent, that wasn¡¯t quite true. It was a fair bit into the province of High Noon. Enough that the monsters stuck to the waters near their province rather than circle the whole of the land. However, the occasional threat found its way into their waters. It didn¡¯t happen often but any seaman that didn¡¯t want to be the next cautionary tale kept their eyes open for the odd white whaleshark or leviathan.

    ¡°We better be pulling up a chest full of gold!¡± the man to the left of Gourd hissed as his skinny arms pulled. The residents of Dawn tended to have fairer skin and he was as fair as they came, his skin a creamy complexion almost as white as a moon lily. For that, his flush of exertion was obviously, the red heavily coloring his cheeks and pinking his ears.

    The man to the right of Gourd simply cursed, glaring at the net as if it was a Twilighter that had seduced both his mother and his sister before running off.

    Their efforts eventually paid off, as they hauled their catch over the side of the boat. There was quite a bit of fish, as expected, a few pieces of driftwood, a boot because there was always a boot in the sea, something with too many tentacles, and a broken spear shaft, all wrapped up in knots of seaweed. All expected fare.

    Except for the dead body.

    ¡°Ah, broken branch. Another floater.¡± The pale elf, the smallest of the crew and the most exhausted, collapsed on his rump with dissatisfaction.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t smell like he¡¯s been in the water long,¡± Gourd muttered. His second companion helped him unravel the net and drop their catch on the deck. They grabbed the body and pulled it to the side. While the third hauler went off to grab a cloth to wrap the body, Gourd crouched beside it, trying to divine what had killed the man.

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    Normally, such things were obvious, as the predators of the sea weren¡¯t known for being discreet. The floater was an exception, his dark green skin without a blemish from head to toe. Wet hair the color of ash clung to his face, obscuring most of his face but not the two prominent fangs slightly jutting out from his lower jaw and over his upper lip.

    ¡°Look like he¡¯s got some mountain blood in him.¡± The pale elf had caught his breath and wandered over to stand beside Gourd. ¡°Probably a Twilighter. I say we throw him overboard and let the fish deal with him.¡±

    ¡°Even a Twilighter deserves to be brought back to his family.¡± Gourd thought the province got too much grief. Sure, they were responsible for just about every heinous and scandalous event in the history of the provinces, but it made no sense to ostracize anyone with the ¡°blood of perverts¡±. The Twilight clans were old and very prolific. If one were to put a red dot on the forehead of all those with blood ties to the clans, almost every head on the continent would be marked. Some just showed their relation more obviously than others.

    ¡°Would explain why he¡¯s so tough. The sea drowned him, but the beasties couldn¡¯t take a bite out of his side. Probably didn¡¯t want¡ªeeeehh!¡±

    The pale elf scrambled backwards and Gourd was right behind him, without the high-pitched screaming. His heart pounded as he stared at the dead body that had opened its eyes.

    With a deep groan, the man they all thought was dead slowly sat up, pulling seaweed from where it clung to his body. His long hair was bundled up and and wrung out before being tossed carelessly over one shoulder. Mesmerizingly colorful eyes, more gold than green when the light struck them, looked around the boat before settling on the seamen. Then he looked down at the net.

    ¡°I¡¯ve caused you some trouble,¡± the man said slowly, apparently having pieced together events. ¡°Thank you for your assistance.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡±

    ¡°What the¡ªfuck!¡±

    The scene was interrupted by the third hauler returning, the bundle of cloth in his hands dropping to the deck as he stared at the man, who stared right back at him. They might have continued that way for an hour if their unexpected visitor didn¡¯t break the stalemate by clearing his throat and addressing the elf that had just returned. ¡°You should alert the captain of this vessel about the not so dead body you¡¯ve hoisted onto their boat.¡±

    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± the third hauler mumbled before turning back the way he¡¯d come.

    ¡°Hey!¡± the pale elf shouted as the man slowly got to his feet. ¡°S-stay there!¡±

    Gourd didn¡¯t blame the other man for being nervous. When they thought the mountain blood was dead, he was an unexpected annoyance. Alive, he was an unknown. A very powerful unknown. They had hauled him up from deep waters and he hadn¡¯t been breathing. Now, he was on his feet and stretching as if nothing was amiss. Besides that, only the powerful, the insane, or the powerful and insane ever swam in the waters surrounding the continent.

    Gourd thought the man was the last option as they watched him leap over the side of the boat, slipping into the water with barely a disturbance. Gourd scrambled to his feet and hurriedly looked over the side but there was no trace of the stranger.

    ¡°¡­I guess he¡¯s gone?¡± he said to his pale companion, who shrugged in turn.

    Only for the water to surge, a dark shape breaking the surface and flying into the air. Gourd scrambled backwards as the stranger landed on the boat, causing it to sway dangerously. In his hands, he held a large fish with blue-green scales that uselessly flopped about in a bid to return to the sea. A green glow covered the man¡¯s hands and the fish stilled.

    ¡°In return for your help, I will make breakfast. I hope you all aren¡¯t tired of fish.¡±

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-13

    The stranger¡¯s name was Orum Draceana Atainna and he was vraekiri, wandering warriors who spent their lives seeking out greater heights of strength by challenging greater opponents. Some went as far as to cross the sea to find their next challenge, as Orum had done. But the crazy mountain blood hadn¡¯t taken a boat, like any sane person. No. The man had swam to different continents.

    ¡°The swimming is not the hard part,¡± Orum declared after slamming down his mug, waving for the prancing woman serving drinks to refill it. After a very good meal of fried fish, the captain decided to bring the boat in early and treat the stranger to a drink in exchange for what promised to be an incredible story. Orum hadn¡¯t disappointed. The crew of four, who had never experienced anything remotely exciting in the pleasantly peaceful Dawn, sat around the round table at the Drowning Dragon, a favorite bar of theirs, riveted to his every word.

    ¡°The movements become routine and it is easy to slip into meditation. Small, repeated exercise like that is best for quick melding, so it was quite effective for training and my body is strong enough that I made good time. Problem was, this body still needs to sleep occasionally. I was never concerned about death but the bigger creatures always carried me off. Sometimes hundreds of leagues in the wrong direction. Added weeks to the journey whenever I had to cross a significant distance.¡±

    The claims would have been ridiculous had anyone else made them, but Gourd had watched the man come back to life. Or apparently, wake up from a deep sleep. Besides, he wasn¡¯t so out of touch with the world that he didn¡¯t recognize Orum¡¯s name. Not his first or second, those could have come from any province, but certainly his third.

    Atainna. The ruling family of Dusk for the past three generations. Given his three names, he must have married into the family, which made sense. While the people of Dawn were a generally peaceful lot that took pride in their cooks and traveling merchants, Dusk valued one thing: strength. It was a land of warriors. It made sense that a member of the royal family would take an interest in a vraekiri.

    The server came by with a pitcher and refilled their mugs. ¡°So, what¡¯d you fight, kid?¡± the captain asked while Orum took a long drink. Given their new acquaintance was taller than all of them by at least a head, only the elf Gourd knew had seen at least three centuries would dare call him a child.

    ¡°The first stop on my journey was to Titan¡¯s Horn.¡±

    ¡°Ah, they call the place Green Mountain.¡±

    Orum inclined his head to Gourd. ¡°Yes, the clans renamed it, didn¡¯t they? Then, I traveled to Green Mountain. If you do not know, the clans have the tradition of nurturing champions, using countless resources to push one individual beyond the limits of their race.¡±

    ¡°And you faced these champions?¡± Gourd asked, his voice betraying his mounting excitement.

    ¡°I don¡¯t dare call it a true fight, as it was not to the death. A being only shows its true strength when wagering its life. Instead, I will say that I trained with them.¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± the captain spat. ¡°What can a bunch of gobs and hobs teach a vraekiri?¡±

    ¡°More than you think. The clans are used to fighting creatures much stronger than them. They think like the weak and that is what I needed help with.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­you were training to fight a creature stronger than you?¡± Gourd reasoned. ¡°One that can¡¯t be taken down with strength alone?¡±

    ¡°Your mind is wasted hauling fish. Yes, you are exactly right. There is a beast I must fell and my strength is meaningless before her. Therefore, I had to learn to fight in a different way.¡±

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    ¡°Don¡¯t drag it out, mate!¡± the pale-skinned hauler yelled. ¡°Go on! Tell us about this beast.¡±

    ¡°I speak of my wife, of course.¡± Orum took a drink as the table gawped at him. Even the server had paused, eavesdropping on the interesting conversation while her eyes snuck glances at the broad and bare chested Orum.

    A quick glance around the room showed that the woman wasn¡¯t the only one eavesdropping. The whole room had turned to their table at the wandering warrior¡¯s revelation. Gourd wasn¡¯t surprised. Before, Orum¡¯s story was the stuff of legends, the kind that set aflame the hearts of all boys that craved adventure. Now, with the introduction of the startling twist, it had entered the realm of drama, the kind that bards salivated over and dazzled audiences from atop stages.

    Another server appeared at the table and placed a small glass on the table before Orum. Whatever it contained smelt of fire and cinnamon. ¡°On the house,¡± she told him with a flirtatious wink. Gourd didn¡¯t know if it had come from the woman as a discrete invitation or from the owner appreciating the man making the afternoon more lively.

    Orum took the glass and downed its contents in one gulp, setting it down gently as opposed to the way he slammed his mug. An action of a man that was conscious of his strength. He took a quick glance at his captive audience before continuing his tale with a sigh.

    ¡°A quick history lesson. Many of the Twilight clans ventured out into the world in search of creatures to sire strong progeny with. However, the Great War brought them home. There were far too many for a single province, so they spread throughout the continent, searching for new homes¡­and new mates.

    ¡°One of the most notable of those clans is the Atainna. Most Twilighters are known for their alchemy but the Atainna are a fighting clan. They marched into Dusk, known to have the strongest fighters, and massacred their way to the crown. Those who put up the most resistance were taken as lovers or slaves. Or both. I¡¯m sure there was even less distinction back then.¡±

    Orum grimaced, beset by bad memories, and took a long drink before continuing. ¡°My wife, Morgene Atainna, the elder sister of the current reigning queen, is a strong adherent to their traditions. She cared nothing for the crown, only seeking to improve her own strength. When it reached a level she approved of, she shifted her attention to continuing her line, hunting down the best mates to ensure children with talent.¡±

    ¡°Aye, those Duskies are insane. Should of known they had Twilighter in them.¡± The captain spat to the side. ¡°Guess she jumped on you and rode you like a wide stallion, eh?¡±

    ¡°Lucky bastard,¡± someone muttered.

    Orum frowned at the sly grins and envious grumbles around him. ¡°It was not as attractive an offer as you all are imagining. The night I met my wife, she turned up in a village I was passing through. Claimed she¡¯d heard about my exploits and wanted to test my strength. Then she attacked me, without waiting for a response.

    ¡°One moment I¡¯m having a drink. The next, I¡¯m fighting for my life. Don¡¯t think her interest in me meant she pulled any punches. A beast only shows what it¡¯s truly capable of when its life is wagered. She taught me that philosophy. I thought I would die with every attack and fought with that belief. It didn¡¯t matter. Back then, I had a poor grasp of the strength possessed by the true monsters of this world. She beat me until my connection to life was as thin as a hair.¡±

    Orum shuddered, an unnerving gesture on a man that looked like he could break rocks on his biceps. ¡°I was unconscious when she dragged me to a healer. When next I woke, I was bound to a bed. She sat beside me in a chair, clothes still dirtied with my own blood. She looked at me, right in the eyes, and asked me if I wanted what happened next to be easy or hard.¡±

    He took a large drink. ¡°I thought she meant another fight and was pondering how she expected me to do battle while bound when she started undressing. My wife¡­she is beautiful. Incredibly so. I was ashamed for being tempted despite having been beaten into submission that same day¡­I think. She never told me how long I was asleep.

    ¡°While I gazed upon her in stunned bewilderment, she delivered another cryptic statement. If I chose the hard way, she would enjoy herself much more than I would but if I chose the easy way, I would be the one to enjoy myself more.

    ¡°By now, I¡¯ve gotten that she¡¯s not talking about a fight, at least not in the traditional sense. And given that she had smiled the entire time she beat me senseless, I didn¡¯t want to experience anything more she might find joyous. I¡­chose the easy way. As promised, I enjoyed myself. Eventually, I agreed to a union.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re mad,¡± the captain said, waving for Orum¡¯s cup to be refilled. ¡°And now you¡¯re trying to kill her, eh? I get it. Never met a man that didn¡¯t think of throttling his wife once or twice.¡±

    ¡°Morgene, I am accustomed to. No, the reason we must do battle once more is the reason I formed a union with her.¡± For the first time, Orum smiled, eyes lighting up with delight. ¡°My darling daughter, Kii.¡±

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-14

    Gourd thought of the stranger he¡¯d hauled into his life as a quiet warrior, a man weighed down by a heavy quest. It was impressive and perhaps a little intimidating. He¡¯d faced many dangers on the sea but rarely was he so close to them. Violence roiled beneath the mountain¡¯s blood skin, ready to be unleased at a moment¡¯s notice but held in check by a firm will, his discipline evident in every word and action.

    However, in one breath, Orum transformed into a much less intimidating man with bright eyes and a dopey grin. He leaned forward, his excitement palpable. ¡°My darling Kierra. Oh, I remember the day I first saw her like it was yesterday. I made it a practice to duel my wife every few months. As a vraekiri, I couldn¡¯t resist the challenge and it kept my drive to improve strong. Not even that beast is crazy enough to fight while in the final stage of pregnancy so it had been several months since one of our bouts. I was ready for intense combat but instead, I was offered the chance to see her child.¡±

    Orum chuckled to himself, not bothering to explain the humor he found in his words. ¡°At the time, I didn¡¯t know the girl was my blood. Morgene has two partners and several lovers¡ª¡±

    ¡°Great tree!¡± an eavesdropper shouted, the sentiment quickly and vocally echoed by those around him. A few of them gave Orum side glances. No doubt wondering how he put up with such a prolific woman. Gourd had to admit, he felt the same. He was an understanding sort of man and wasn¡¯t averse to a little extra fun outside of his union but there was no way he could tolerate his woman sleeping with whoever she pleased. And to not even know his child was his own? Unthinkable.

    Orum didn¡¯t seem the kind of man that would allow himself to be pushed around. It spoke to this Morgene¡¯s abilities that she did it anyway. As well as her personality. He¡¯d never speak it out loud, but for all his complaints, the stranger still spoke with a kind of fondness about his wife. Gourd hoped he never had occasion to meet the Dusk royal that had twisted the man into such a complicated knot.

    ¡°In my mind, it was anyone¡¯s child but mine. I couldn¡¯t imagine having a child by that woman. I also couldn¡¯t imagine what her child would look like. Probably some dark twisted thing with bloodthirsty eyes and too many teeth. Certainly not the little sprout they brought to me wrapped in a thick, white blanket. I was about to tell the handmaidens that had brought her to take Morgene¡¯s spawn away but then she opened her eyes.¡±

    Orum pointed to his own, the irises more green than gold in the dimmer light. ¡°They were just like mine. She¡¯s lighter, both in skin and hair, her face takes after her mother, and she doesn¡¯t have my maw¡ª¡± His hand moved down to tug at one of his protruding fangs. ¡°But those eyes said it all. She was mine. And from the moment she looked up at me, I loved her.

    ¡°Before our daughter, I think I hated Morgene a little more than I loved her. I could have killed her. Wanted to, desperately. But after our miracle, well. I could never forgive her, but everything weighed on me less as it had led to that moment. My daughter.¡±

    Orum¡¯s love for his daughter gushed out of him as he regaled the crowd with endless tales of the girl¡¯s youth, apparently the image of perfection from the moment of her birth. Gourd knew men who favored their daughters, but Orum was in a class of his own.

    ¡°She was a branch from the Great Tree itself. Born with more talent than either of us, you know. Blessed by our ancestor. I think it¡¯s called the pure affinity now? Yes, a pure affinity after my own. The world loves her as much as I do. When she was a baby, flowers bloomed when she laughed and withered when she threw tantrums. And she was so smart. Said her first words after only five months. Helps that she shot up like a weed. Think the little brat was hastening her growth. By the time she was ten, she was half as big as me, haha!¡±

    Orum lost most of his audience as he prattled on about his daughter for another half hour. Even his fellows abandoned their table, seeking out more compelling company. Gourd had more patience for the doting father. Having kids of his own, he understood the chest-bursting pride when they succeeded. He would roar for their victories no matter how big or small, but the larger their accomplishments, the prouder he felt. He was prouder than his son the first time he caught a fish, lifting it and the boy and parading them all the way home.

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    Orum¡¯s daughter had accomplished much greater feats than catching a fish. Having a pure physical affinity meant she was the closest thing to an immortal in this world. It went without question that she would do great things in her time but she had wasted no time reaching for greatness.

    After the Great War shattered the Dragon Isles, draconids fled to every corner of the world to find a new home. They managed to keep out of most of the war, but the elves were affected by evacuation of the isles. Wyverns, the closest relation to the majesties of the sky, roosted in the branches of the Great Tree. The elves originally took great offense to any creature making a home on the body of their ancestor. However, the fight to remove them threatened to harm the Great Tree.

    The provinces might have still waged war against the invaders, but they found that the wyverns were not the savage manabeasts they hunted in their forests. The wyverns were intelligent. They had community and culture. Most importantly, they were spiritual creatures that understood that the tree they roosted on was more than a place to hold their nests.

    The wyverns and the elves formed a bond of mutual appreciation. Whatever resentment remained was sorted through the tradition of warriors climbing the tree to challenge the wyverns. One of the feats Orum was proudest of when he boasted of his daughter was the young woman challenging her first branch at the tender age of fifty.

    It would have been a young wyvern, a juvenile if not younger, but it was still an opponent that warriors with twice her age and five times her experience would struggle against. Many proud fighters had challenged a wyvern before they were ready and ended up as its meal.

    For her to overcome the challenge at her tender age meant she not only had strength, she also had a calm mind that could accurately gauge her abilities and an instinct for combat. Truly, Gourd had no doubt the name Kierra Atainna would be remembered for generations to come.

    Eventually, Orum¡¯s thoughts turned from praising his daughter, his smile replaced by a serious expression. Gourd straightened up, sensing a change in the story.

    ¡°Kierra is a gift from the Great Spirit but that isn¡¯t enough for Morgene. She must be more than perfect. She must be that monster¡¯s ideal and the slightest deviation results in punishment.¡±

    Gourd raised a brow as the handle of the mug in Orum¡¯s hand cracked. He noticed his fault and a green flash fixed the wooden cup. ¡°What happened?¡± the seaman asked softly, not wanting to rile his new friend up but far too invested in the story to leave without hearing its end.

    ¡°My darling, perfect though she may be, can only be as perfect as mortals can. As we all inevitably do, she made a mistake. She¡­had trouble killing a certain creature. One creature. I thought she simply needed a break from fighting. She¡¯d been doing it since she could properly hold a blade and that was earlier than most.

    ¡°Her mother¡¯s solution was to knock her out and imprison her within the Enchanted Forest along with the beasts, holding her captive until she slew them.¡±

    ¡°Spirit.¡± When he was a boy, Gourd had been deathly afraid of spiders. Couldn¡¯t see one without yelping like a scalded dog and dancing about until one of his brothers stomped on the poor creature. If he¡¯d been locked in a room with one as a child, he would have died of fright. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous? Unconscionable? Insane?¡± Orum scoffed. ¡°That is Morgene. And my darling Kii has always been weak to her mother¡¯s approval.¡±

    ¡°How long has she been imprisoned?¡±

    ¡°I left after seven years when there was no change. I know my Kii. She is decisive. If she hadn¡¯t completed her task after so long, there was more to her reluctance to slay the beasts than fear or nerves. But I couldn¡¯t ask her. Morgene refused to allow me to see my own daughter. The only way I could see her, help her, was to go through my wife.¡±

    Orum raised a balled fist. ¡°It¡¯s been a decade since I left and now I¡¯m finally ready.¡±

    ¡°Are you¡­going to kill her?¡± Gourd asked with trepidation, his common sensibilities struggling to comprehend the strange family and their complicated relationships. He couldn¡¯t imagine killing his own wife, the mother of his children, no matter what she¡¯d done.

    Then again, he also couldn¡¯t imagine her doing something as barbaric as imprisoning their children until they performed to her satisfaction. How far would he go to save his children from an unjust fate, even if the one responsible was their mother? He never wanted to know the answer to that question.

    Though he thought he saw a hint in Orum¡¯s determined gaze. ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever it takes.¡±

 Miniarc-Meanwhile-15

    ¡°Thank you for all your help, Gourd.¡±

    ¡°Eh, no worries.¡± The seaman absently scratched at his scraggly beard. He had a strong physique with his large arms and toned shoulders, but no one would mistake him for a fighter. Or at least, not a very good one. It was the way he moved. Clumsy and flat-footed. The man would trip over his own feet trying to dodge an attacker. Not to mention his abysmal lack of awareness.

    When he was younger, Orum would have sneered at the man¡¯s existence and ignored him. The culture of the vraekiri only had time for those on the road to power. Those that didn¡¯t pursue strength were considered fools, willing prey in a world full of predators.

    Life taught Orum that strength was not all the world had to offer. Or rather, that he should not be so single-minded in pursuing it. Monsters like Morgene walked that road. The predators of the world had chewed him up with their sharp teeth and spat him out, letting him live another day so they could take more bites out of him later.

    Adversity forged character. Pressure was necessary to forge the strongest wills but too much could break even legendary warriors. Orum had been close to breaking. Not his body. The physical affinity was strong. So long as he had mana, he would remain whole.

    It was his mind that teetered on the edge of oblivion. His dogged pursuit of victory over his wife had turned him into a being of singular purpose. He ate so he would have energy to fight. He slept so that he would have clarity to fight. Every waking moment he was not in combat, he trained, so that the next time he could be just a little stronger, a little faster.

    Anything that had nothing to do with fighting became irrelevant. An attitude the vraekiri would admire but it was no way to live. Not even beasts could live such a life. Orum, every part of him that his strength was meant to protect, was fading away. In a sense of the word, he was dying.

    Kierra had saved him.

    Like the critters his daughter had carelessly healed with a touch of her blessed hand, she had given him new life. Torn away the cage of anger and self-depreciation trapping him in a vicious cycle of behavior.

    His daughter, the most precious thing in the world, had nothing to do with his strength. He hadn¡¯t achieved her through piling up a mountain of bodies and didn¡¯t need to spill rivers of blood to be happy. With Kierra, he could find contentment in even the most mundane activities. He was a vraekiri, like his father and his father¡¯s father, but strength need not be everything. He could take the longer, softer road to the peak rather than the straight and brutal path.

    He had wrestled with himself to find his true path. Now, his daughter had to do the same. Like with him, Morgene had created a violent reality, a cage of blood and death. Kierra could be anything with her talents, but her mother wouldn¡¯t allow her to be anything but the killer the Atainnas had always been. No matter what it cost her.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send payment for the steed.¡± As if it knew it was being spoken about, the faecat beside Orum pawed at the ground. It was a favorite mount in Dusk, where they had no roads besides faint footpaths. He wasn¡¯t confident finding one in the more settled Dawn, as they weren¡¯t popular outside of the province where they were bred.

    Riding predators was a very different experience than the more common beast of burdens and a faecat could be very aggressive to riders. They balked at commands and trying to put reins over them more than likely would end with a hand being removed.

    Gourd performed quite a feat producing the beast. Orum hadn¡¯t held much hope for the man¡¯s ¡°connections¡±, but he¡¯d produced a result in just two days. During that time, he¡¯d invited Orum to stay in his home. The man¡¯s family was friendly, if a bit¡­he didn¡¯t know a word for it that wasn¡¯t insulting. What came to mind was ignorant. They knew nothing beyond their little town and were enamored by the man that had seen the world, or at least far more of it than they had.

    All of them had endless questions, especially the youngest boy, so small he didn¡¯t even reach Orum¡¯s waist. It reminded him of an old dream. One inspired by Kierra. He imagined what his life could have been if he left Morgene, gave up on his quest to best her. Found a nice woman whose idea of romance wasn¡¯t gutting a creature, which didn¡¯t exclude him. Have a noisy house full of children, like his darling Kii.

    What a beautiful dream.

    And maybe still achievable. It wasn¡¯t in him to give up on a quest he had started and Morgene wouldn¡¯t allow him to leave. There was a bond between them, twisted as it was. He had no doubt in his mind that his wife would bury any woman that thought to ¡°take¡± him. There was only one hope for them both. Orum had to best her.

    His daughter had given him another gift in that raising her allowed him to understand Morgene better. Before Kii, he thought she was a creature of blood and slaughter, everything about her tainted by violence. It was only when Morgene had sat Kierra in her lap before a fire and given the young girl a lesson in life that Orum understood a little of his wife¡¯s heart.

    To Morgene, to the Atainnas, all things in life had purpose. A role that they were meant to play. A place in the web of fate.

    Conflict forged a person. Defined them. All things battled to determine their place in their world, from the ants to the wyverns.

    According to his wife¡¯s philosophy, there were four roles. The first was the conqueror. The one who marched against challenges and paved the way for their people. A conqueror was defined by two things; talent and will. Someone with talent and no would crumble in the face of hardship. Someone with will but no talent would fail, no matter their heart. It was only those with natural talent and the will to use it that could rise to the top. They inspired their people, guiding them as the brightest star in the sky.

    The second role was the builder. The one who turned the resources accumulated by the conqueror into a home, into something to be admired. They were the ones who turned the bloodthirsty conquerors into something more than beasts by building their legacies. They were the ones who forged the crowns of rulers and the power behind thrones.

    The third role was the creative. Those who saw what others could not see, heard what no one else could hear, and redefined the impossible. The ones trapped in the maze of their own minds and haunted by visions of things that had and hadn¡¯t been.

    They were volatile and unpredictable, their worth usually a matter of perspective. More often than not, burdens on the conquerors and builders who might never produce anything of value with the resources they consumed. Luxurious people. How many of them a person or group could support was a good gauge of their power and a badge of honor.

    Finally, there were the flowers. The soft people. That Morgene not only tolerated but respected, those without strength had been the biggest revelation to Orum. Just as long as they played the role expected of them.

    They were nurturers and comforters. In a world full of monsters, they were the only ones the conquerors did not need to fear. The ones who allowed the dominant, raging personalities to have moments of peace. They raised families and became the hearts of every community, offering unique perspectives that someone standing at the top of the world could never understand.

    A flower was a conqueror¡¯s greatest treasure. Someone that was meant to be doted on and adored. The fighters would die to protect the flowers, but that care came at a cost.

    The nurturers had soft voices. They could speak but never shout. Request, but never order. Where they went, what they wore, and even what they ate weren¡¯t their decisions. They were, in many senses, owned by the conquerors that sheltered them.

    Some took the notion much further than others. Only the most extreme adherents to the Atainna philosophy, which he suspected was a nuanced take on the beliefs of the Twilight province, stripped their flowers of their will, but they were expected to obey. A flower that didn¡¯t want to follow another¡¯s will was soon abandoned, left to live their own lives or find a conqueror whose will they could abide.

    The roles were not set in stone. A flower, if battered enough, could become a conqueror. A builder, under the right influence, could become a creative. A conqueror, after one too many defeats, could give up violence and become a flower. A person could also be more than one thing, depending on who they were interacting with.

    If Orum could defeat Morgene, so thoroughly that she acknowledged him as the superior warrior, or conqueror, then their dynamic would change. She would¡­soften, or so he thought. And then, he would have the opportunity to know his wife without the conflict that had defined their relationship for so long.

    He didn¡¯t know what that looked like, but he was looking forward to finding out.

    ¡°This is goodbye then.¡±

    Gourd held out a hand and Orum took it, carefully squeezing until he saw the other man wince, smiling faintly. He felt bad for being amused as the other man discretely flexed his fingers to soothe the lingering ache but a handshake that didn¡¯t hurt a little was disrespectful to the other party.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a stranger. Come by and tell me the end to this epic story.¡±

    ¡°If I survive.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Orum held back a sigh at the man brushing off the danger of his quest. No matter how many times he described how vicious Morgene could be, the seaman failed to grasp that his wife would kill him if the mood struck her. ¡°And I¡¯d love to meet this daughter of yours.¡±

    Eyes an even mix of gold and green narrowed as their owner searched for hidden meaning behind the words.

    Gourd¡¯s hands came up in defense. ¡°Not like that! Spirit, I¡¯m married. I¡¯ve got a family!¡±

    So the man said but he hadn¡¯t seen his Kii. Her looks were the one area Orum was glad she took after her mother in. Gourd¡¯s wife was a lovely woman, but she couldn¡¯t compare to the demon that still attracted him while on death¡¯s door.

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    His daughter was even more beguiling, full of charm rather than scorn. The poor man¡¯s invitation might be motivated by good intentions, but they would be tested when he saw any woman with Atainna blood.

    ¡°Next time, we¡¯ll share a proper drink. Clan brewed.¡± Whatever else that was said about the Twilight clans, they were masters at any craft that involved bowls, barrels, and pots. What they considered piss-poor drink made anything else taste like literal piss.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to it.¡±

    Orum turned before either of them could remember they were barely more than strangers and the farewell could become strange. In one smooth motion, he leaped onto the faecat¡¯s back and spurred it into a sprint. Startled shouts echoed throughout the town as the pair rocketed through the streets but not for long.

    As always, civilization gave way to the forest. Orum could feel many gazes on his back as they ran. The yowl of his mount was enough to turn most away, the faecat¡¯s ability to end pointless confrontations another reason it was favored in Dusk.

    Those strong enough to ignore its cry were experienced enough to know a fight they couldn¡¯t win.

    While he was faster on his own two feet, riding allowed him to preserve his strength. Orum was confident against most things the forest could throw at him but there were plenty of beings throughout the provinces that could kill him. Plenty more if he did something as stupid as dropping his guard.

    It took ten days to reach Dusk. Orum didn¡¯t care much for his third name, but it came in use. The guards that protected the border between provinces let him pass without detaining him for even a moment. Had he been anyone else, he would be lucky to be released in a matter of months. The Atainnas had many enemies and were as territorial as any beast.

    Dusk being the largest province, it took another fifteen days before he reached Sa¡¯Flori. The capital was another week away, but Morgene preferred the small settlement established by her ancestors when they first came to the province. All the family did, as no matter where they scattered, Atainnas always found their way to their home. Not even the reigning queen was an exception.

    Normally, when Orum challenged his wife, he marched right up to her tree and bellowed for her to face him, his powerful voice carrying for leagues. This time, he prowled the outskirts of the village, stalking the forest for one of its temporary residents.

    Orum knelt at the base of the tree he tied his mount to and channeled his mana. In his mind, he imagined a spell he¡¯d done so many times it was almost reflex. His ears tingled, growing larger and sharper, his green skin darkening to a dull gray. He closed his eyes and killed the rest of his senses to better focus on the one.

    The hunters produced by the village were good. They were taught to never be seen, never be heard, and never leave a trace. The masters of the hunt that worked directly for the Atainna family were ghosts. They could disappear into the forest so long that their own families forgot about them.

    But few ever grew to the point that they could transcend mortal limits. No matter how carefully one stepped, they couldn¡¯t muffle the sound of their heartbeat or their breath as it expanded their chest.

    There were many ways to use the physical affinity. The simplest way was to use it to empower the body but there were different levels of application. Using mana to temporary boost one¡¯s strength was a world away from magically changing the body, making small permanent changes that eventually created living legends.

    Shapeshifting required a level of mastery beyond that. Melding, while powerful, was ultimately simple. It required exhaustive knowledge of the subject and their species to properly guide their growth but if it was done in increments as it was meant, any healer could manage it.

    Shapeshifting was much the same except for two factors. Where melding was slow change over time, something the body was accustomed to, shapeshifting was dynamic change. Large amounts of energy expended in a short amount of time. The spells were also twice as complicated as any changes needed to be reversed. Some could contain thousands of variables and a mistake with a single one could be fatal.

    The second thing that made shapeshifting such a difficult discipline to master was the sheer breadth of knowledge required to be effective. Learning about one¡¯s own species could take years. Learning how an individual differed from the common denominators that defined that species could take several more years.

    For each form the caster wanted to make use of, it took several more years of study. First to understand the creature, then to understand how to blend one form with another, and finally to master the new abilities.

    Such was the enormity of the task that some chose to only emulate one form, choosing the speed and intimacy with one set of abilities over the diversity that shapeshifting was known for.

    It took Orum five months to build a spell to change his ears to those of the elunere, a rare species of bat native to Twilight, having plenty of experience with such. It took ten years to effectively learn to use them.

    In his mind, a picture was painted from the faint sounds of the forest. A skill the creature the ears belonged to had an instinct for but Orum had to figure out on his own. Things got easier when he figured out the trick of silencing the rest of his senses, but it had taken decades to become comfortable with the ears and he still didn¡¯t believe he had mastered them to the level of the original owner.

    It took seconds to find a target. The next moment, Orum¡¯s ears returned to normal and the rest of his senses returned. He patted the faecat on the rump before walking off into the trees, moving carefully to avoid startling his prey.

    Once he found the bush the hunter was slumbering under, he grabbed the man by the ankles and dragged him out of his hiding space. A dagger tried to stab him in the face, but dark green scales covered the skin it would have pierced, deflecting the blade.

    His hand covered with green mana, Orum punched the prone man in the throat. ¡°Calm down,¡± he said as he deflected another blade and dropped a knee into the man¡¯s stomach. ¡°Hm. You look a little young. I don¡¯t suppose you recognize the name Orum Atainna?¡±

    The hunter froze, his dirty brow furrowing as he stared up at his attacker. His expression showed his confusion as he relaxed, one hand massaging his neck. Orum guessed that he was indeed too young to recognize his face, but he didn¡¯t seem willing to risk fighting the Dusk legend. Or maybe he didn¡¯t want to fight while struggling to breathe, his breaths coming in short pants.

    ¡°I apologize for attacking you, but I know how you boys are.¡± Orum slowly grabbed the hunter¡¯s hand and ran a diagnostic spell. Then he fixed the damage he¡¯d caused, the spell taking more strength than usual as the hunter¡¯s own mana fought the intrusion.

    The younger elf¡¯s eyes became much less guarded as his pain disappeared. He sat up and inclined his head toward Orum. ¡°They say that Mountainblood Orum is a savage fighter, not a healer.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all the same affinity. I have a task for you, hunter.¡±

    ¡°And who are you to give me tasks?¡± the young hunter said with an arrogant tilt of his head.

    Orum had the urge to backhand the cocky bastard. He might not be as enamored with strength as he once was but he could break the boy who didn¡¯t look a day over forty like a dry twig. Respecting that wasn¡¯t a matter of belief, it was a matter of survival instincts. Something the hunter must lack. That had to mean he had talent if he had survived so long.

    Orum wanted to talk to Morgene before things came to violence. Taking away one of her toys wasn¡¯t the way to start a pleasant conversation. ¡°My third name is Atainna. I don¡¯t want to hurt you boy¡­and I don¡¯t need to. I may have married into the reigning family but remember who I am married to. To insult me to is insult Morgene Atainna.¡±

    The hunter grimaced at the very thought. ¡°How may I assist you?¡±

    ¡°I need you to take a message to Morgene. Tell her I am waiting for her.¡±

    ¡°¡­that¡¯s all?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all. But I would appreciate all due haste.¡±

    Orum stared at the hunter until he climbed to his feet and darted off. Orum walked off at a much more sedate pace, returning to his mount. He took a seat beside the beast and shared pieces of dried jerky with it as he waited for his wife and possibly his reckoning.

    -

    As questionable as their relationship could be at times, it was undeniable that there was mutual respect between them. He had sent a third party to deliver a message to meet for no specified reason, but Morgene still answered as promptly as someone in her position could.

    The sun was still high in the sky when something approached Orum making so much noise it had to be deliberate. The faecat growled as a woman rounded a tree opposite of them.

    It had been over a decade since Orum last saw his wife. By no will of his own, his heart thundered with excitement at her appearance.

    Skin the dark purple of twilight. The same silver hair as his beloved daughter. Emerald green eyes, their narrower shape adding power to the woman¡¯s glare. A face full of natural arrogance and sharp angles softened by round ears and full lips.

    To his surprise, Morgene hadn¡¯t come ready for a fight, no sign of any armor or weapons on her person. She wore a sleeveless white vest paired with a black and silver skirt. A long slit along one side made the garment flow with every step but it was never snagged on the shrubbery. It was as if the forest didn¡¯t dare impede her, regardless of lacking an affinity to influence nature.

    Her bare feet stomped through the forest without any of her usual grace until she came to a stop before him. The faecat snarled at the intruder. Sharp green eyes turned to it and its growls turned to whimpers, its sharp ears lying flat on its head as it retreated.

    ¡°You¡¯re scaring my beast,¡± Orum grumbled, stepping in front of the beast and giving it a comforting pat on the neck.

    ¡°I¡¯m teaching it an important life lesson.¡± She paused, blatantly looking Orum over and despite himself, he couldn¡¯t help standing a little straighter. ¡°You look well.¡±

    ¡°You sound surprised.¡±

    ¡°Given how long you were away, I half thought you were suffering from grievous wounds.¡±

    ¡°You know better than anyone that nothing keeps me down for long¡­something I thought you would be eager to test again.¡±

    Morgene chuckled, the sound caressing Orum¡¯s ears. ¡°I also came prepared for you to immediately go for my throat.¡±

    ¡°My journey taught me much about myself.¡± Orum felt a sharp spike of anticipation. He didn¡¯t know what had come over his wife but she was being¡­agreeable. During his travels, Orum had searched for a new way to fight. The creatures that inhabited Green Mountain were, racially, rather weak. The clans survived because they didn¡¯t fight any battles that could be avoided and only fought when they had an advantage. ¡°I wanted to talk to you.¡±

    ¡°And I with you.¡± She held up her hands, emphasizing her lack of weapons. ¡°About your favorite subject.¡±

    He picked up on her meaning immediately, body tensing. ¡°Did something happen to Kii?¡± Orum felt his temper rapidly mounting as his hands balled into fists. If his daughter was hurt¡ª

    ¡°Relax. You always babied that girl too much. She toddled into a nest of blackvenoms every day for a week because she liked the taste of their legs but the day you discovered it, you destroyed the nest down to the last bug.¡±

    Morgene shook her head. ¡°Kierra is perfectly safe. Better than ever, I suppose. You¡¯ll be happy to know that I¡¯ve ended her punishment. She¡¯s free to walk the world as she pleases.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡± Orum should have been happy but all he felt was an overwhelming sense of defeat. He¡¯d swam across an ocean to free his daughter from her mother only to return and find out she didn¡¯t need a single minute of his painstaking efforts. Had Morgene seen the errors of her ways? Unlikely.

    Kierra must have done what her mother wanted. As always, the woman had gotten her way. It also counted as his failure, as his desperate quest had been both to free Kierra and to protect her heart. ¡°Where is she?¡± he asked bitterly.

    ¡°Gone.¡±

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t wait to get away from you?¡±

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t leave fast enough.¡± She smiled and Orum felt something in his gut tighten. That was her bloodthirsty smile. ¡°Took her human and ran off to that kingdom of apes without looking back. Love really does make one silly.¡±

    Orum¡¯s bad feeling became worse. ¡°Love?¡± he asked quietly, fighting the obvious conclusion.

    His wife¡¯s smile grew larger. ¡°Oh, yes. While you were away, our daughter formed a union with a human woman named Lourianne Tome. It¡¯s quite a remarkable story. Through some magical mishap, Lou found herself in Kierra¡¯s prison and the two immediately formed a connection. To be with her, Kierra faced her fears, completing her trial only months after they¡¯d met. Inspiring, no?¡±

    Orum grit his teeth as his skin flushed darker green.

    ¡°Their union took place the morning after they returned. Kierra¡¯s blade bearer, you remember Rondel? The one that followed on her heels like an eager puppy? Well, he didn¡¯t take kindly to her finally choosing a partner. Little bastard stabbed her through the heart.¡±

    ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    ¡°Calm, Orum. Do you think I did nothing after a piece of trash tried to kill her? He¡¯s dead and died in so much pain, he welcomed the end with grateful tears.¡±

    That did nothing to calm his anger. While he was away, someone had stabbed his precious baby. Someone had stolen her. A human woman of all creatures, taking his treasure and absconding to another continent.

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t worry about descendants. You know how talented Kierra is and they could barely keep their hands off one another. Even in front of me! I give it a decade at most before the next Atainna is welcomed into the world. How about that, husband? Are you excited to hold another Kii in your arms?¡±

    Orum snapped.

    The warrior¡¯s roar startled the forest, sending every creature that heard it running for their lives.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-01

    Luke Tome didn¡¯t think of himself as a noble.

    He didn¡¯t align with his vision of a noble. The Tome family had a history that rivaled the oldest families in the kingdom but that was the only thing they shared with their peers. They had a small territory, smaller coffers, and no influence. The Tomes were nobles in name only. Luke was not even allowed the luxury of pretending otherwise.

    From the time he entered society, Gordon Grimoire and the rest of his wretched family had terrorized him. Their harassment ranged from childish pranks to criminal transgressions. As a boy, he¡¯d been ostracized. No one would speak to him, children or adults. It didn¡¯t matter if he stood in their faces or shouted in their ears. They would turn their faces until he understood he wasn¡¯t wanted.

    One time, he threw a tantrum and shoved another child that had ignored him for the umpteenth time. Even then, the other boy hadn¡¯t spoken a word to him. He had stared at the young Luke with a sour expression that clearly expressed how troubled he was, but he was so concerned about offending the Grimoires, he¡¯d endured three subsequent shoves without a word, unwilling to defend himself if it meant violating the unspoken order of the red-headed tyrants.

    Eventually, a servant noticed the trouble Luke was causing and took him back to his father. After the party was over, Luke had asked not to attend the next banquet but that was impossible. A weaker family rejecting an invitation from their betters was considered disrespectful. Normally, it was a non-issue, as unimportant nobles didn¡¯t receive said invitations, but the Grimoires had made tormenting the Tomes a family tradition and time had made them creative.

    There were only a few ways to hurt people who had nothing. Making them attend banquets and stand on the outskirts with stiff faces, less significant than air, while others made merry was a special kind of torture.

    By the time he was a young man, he had built a tolerance to the abuse. Swaddled his heart with his shattered dreams and his shredded ambitions. It didn¡¯t make him immune to the pain or smother his murderous rage toward his enemies, but it meant he could get on with his life. Something his brother Jackal had never managed, constantly seeking the acclaim he felt was owed to him.

    Luke had cast away his identity as a noble to focus on his identity as a summoner. No matter what the Grimoires did, they hadn¡¯t been able to rewrite history. They couldn¡¯t take away the accomplishments of his ancestors. Luke convinced himself that if he made similar contributions to the kingdom, they couldn¡¯t be denied as well. And knowledge was the one thing that couldn¡¯t be taken from him.

    His time at the Grand Hall had been a revelation. It was the first place he¡¯d found beyond the reach of any noble. Where a person¡¯s worth was decided by their own efforts. His time as an acolyte hadn¡¯t been easy by any means but it had rewarded him for every drop of sweat he shed.

    At one time, he thought he would spend his whole life on the floating island. Buy a house on the edge of the Myriad Zone and find work in the city to pay for his studies. One day, when his work gained kingdom-wide recognition, he¡¯d apply to live in one of the estates reserved for the members of staff and teach his own classes. Make his mark raising an entire generation of summoners.

    Things hadn¡¯t gone as he planned. He found what he thought at the time was love but later had the perspective to recognize as a desperate entanglement formed by two desperate people. Him, who had never had a relationship because no respectable family would engage their daughter to a Tome and his shattered self-esteem didn¡¯t allow him to find a woman on his own. Her, a woman who only cared for things beyond their world.

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    He knew it would end badly. How could it not? Their first conversation was her asking a favor of him. Their first date was spent seated across from each other in the library within the Summoner Hall, him barely managing to speak a handful of words between her daydreaming about the elemental she wanted to contract.

    Their first time together didn¡¯t happen after a night of passion, but after a night of excessive drinking to celebrate the Hall publishing his Zero Affinity Theory. A long way from being recognized by the kingdom but something to be proud of. The first thing he¡¯d ever been proud of.

    Then the dream came crashing down. His lover didn¡¯t come from a family with a tradition of summoning. She was drawn to the art because it gave power to the powerless. One contract could make a king of a beggar. That¡¯s what she wanted and she was willing to do anything to get it.

    She had an unhealthy obsession with the stronger elementals recorded in the Hall, one that didn¡¯t abate no matter how many times he warned her. If he was capable of rationality then, he would have cut ties with her and never looked back. However, that would be the end of their relationship. That would have destroyed the old Luke. So, he supported her plan to contact dangerous creatures that turned the minds of men inside-out as a pastime.

    The expected happened. They destroyed her but not in the way he expected. His lover conducted her summoning in secret, as no matter how desperate he was, Luke would have done his best to stop her if he knew. She disappeared, with no clues to her whereabouts besides a broken circle and what appeared to be all the blood in her bloody splattered across the floor.

    Rumors abounded. Their relationship was no secret. He was the more experienced summoner. It was an unspoken expectation for him to protect her. He¡¯d failed and it marred his reputation. It was nothing he couldn¡¯t recover from but at the time, his peers didn¡¯t look at him the same and the teachers looked down on him. He even lost his position as a research assistant, what had been paying his tuition.

    Terrible circumstances but he might have still been able to scrape by if his lover hadn¡¯t left him with a newborn daughter.

    That was how she managed to secretly do her summoning. With the birth of their daughter, he thought she wouldn¡¯t be so quick to risk her life and hadn¡¯t kept as strict of an eye on her. A ridiculous notion. She hadn¡¯t hesitated for a moment.

    With no other choice, Luke left the Hall. He hadn¡¯t achieved all he wanted but he had grown and he had left his name within the Hall for all future summoners. He also had a daughter, an heir. The next generation he¡¯d wanted to teach.

    Summoning played a pivotal role in his life. It was all he had. Everything he valued was connected to it. It had given meaning to his life. It was his legacy. It was the only connection with his daughter he hadn¡¯t fouled through ignorance, indifference, or awkwardness. It was the most precious thing to him. He valued it over everything. As much pride as he had in his family, he would rather see the Tomes reduced to nameless peasants than have the art attacked.

    That was why he couldn¡¯t accept the bans on summoning issued by the king. The crown intended to use them as justification to eliminate a particular group, he knew that, but the reality of it was that the entire community had come under fire. The Grimoires had destroyed the reputation of all summoners and those inclined took the laws as the king¡¯s approval to target them.

    Summoners weren¡¯t powerful people. They didn¡¯t have gold or influence. Some of them had powerful elementals but they couldn¡¯t fight every private army and knight order owned by their enemies. They were easy targets. If nothing was done, summoning could be eradicated from the Harvest kingdom.

    Something had to be done and there weren¡¯t many people capable of doing it.

    So few people that an unimpressive man like Luke Tome had to be the one to lead the charge. A burden he wasn¡¯t happy to carry but willingly shouldered. He would not allow the last kingdom of humanity to reject its summoners. For too long, they¡¯d been the victims. Powerless. No more. They would be heard. They would be respected.

    No matter what it took.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-02

    There was nothing romantic about plotting rebellion. In the stories, the hovel of a bar the unlikely heroes chose as their base of operations was cozy and warm despite its humble decor and meagre offerings. The summoners had also chosen such a place for their meetings. One did not scheme in crowded taverns or upscale inns. They had to be discreet and that meant squatting in places no one would look at twice.

    There was nothing cozy about drinking alongside the unwashed dregs of society. A terrible smell assaulted visitors upon opening the door, something sour created by too many spilled things left to dry, fouling the stagnant air trapped inside the small bar by boarded-up windows. Small lamps doused the main room equally in firelight and shadows. Most of the furniture was chipped and the floor was wet with what Luke hoped was just spilled drinks. He had tried the food once and never would again. Not the kind of place the nobleman ever thought he would find himself entering.

    It was aptly named the Dirty Dagger. Despite such a terrible moniker and a worse appearance, the bar was quite popular. With the wrong kind of people but a villain¡¯s coin spent the same as a hero¡¯s. The unwanted crowded the tables, drinking the swill disguised as ale and swapping stories with strangers.

    There was even a bard slowly plucking the strings of a lyre, their face hidden by the oversized hood of a black cloak. Luke had never heard their voice but the small bowl they kept at their feet saw a steady flow of coin. One of the many suspicious happenstances Luke had witnessed during his visits but he kept his nose out of it. The last thing he needed was more problems.

    The barkeep watched him carefully as he approached. Without a word, he set down the mug he was cleaning and lifted a small part of the counter, allowing Luke to pass. He¡¯d been around enough that he no longer had to prove his intentions.

    Behind the counter was a door that led to a narrow hall with two doors. The door to the right was used as storage. Luke saw a skinny young man with a nasty scar across half his face and a nastier scowl working inside for a moment before the worker slammed the door shut. The left was a mystery. Luke¡¯s goal was at the end of the hall. Right before the back entrance was a tattered brown rug. It was a little out of place and very ugly but what it hid would have drawn more attention.

    Luke¡¯s features scrunched in disgust as he pinched the end of it and flipped it aside, revealing a small door. He grunted as he pulled on the circular handles, straining to lift the heavy wood. The faint glow of the same cheap lanterns used in the bar illuminated a heavy ladder. Luke indulged in bitter murmurs as he put his feet on the first rung, grabbing the bar on the back of the door to pull it closed as he descended.

    The cellar was a cramped space. The walls were too close and the ceiling was too low to be accommodating. Still, it was a far sight better than anything up above.

    For one, it was clean. It was also private, which was what the summoners needed most. A small round table and four chairs sat in the center of the room, three of the seats occupied by his recently acquired comrades.

    The most surprising of them was the young patriarch of the newly renamed Mason family, Gordon Mason. The son of his greatest enemy who, for all his life, looked to be shaping up to be a fine heir to the Grimoire¡¯s traditions of arrogance and cruelty before suddenly having a change of heart following the death of his father. He didn¡¯t become a saint but did become respectable.

    Junior, as Luke would forever think of him despite it no longer applying, had put an end to the rampant abuse of the mental affinity. Beautiful men and women no longer had to worry about being snatched off the street and turned into mindless playthings for depraved perverts. Powerful families no longer lived in fear of being blackmailed with their darkest secrets.

    Despite that, the Mason family had only grown in power. Their coffers were full and their influence surpassed its peak during his father¡¯s stint as a royal adviser. An outcome that didn¡¯t make sense to outsiders but as a summoner, Luke understood the success. The answer lay in the beautiful creature standing behind Junior¡¯s chair, smiling softly as its whip-like tail slowly waved side-to-side.

    The Grimoire family had seen the changes Junior intended for the family and rallied to replace him. It should have been a bloodbath. Instead, despite his contract being a circle three thrall, he gained control of every succbi his family had contracted. The fight ended before it could begin.

    In one move, the young patriarch secured total control over the family and eliminated all his dissenters. Riding in a carriage pulled by the succubi with no obstacles in his way, the only feasible outcome was a rapid rise to success.

    Personally, Luke thought that growth was the source of their woes. Gordon Sr. had always been a pain in the king¡¯s side but there was nothing he could do about the man without inciting chaos within the capital. Besides, the Grimoires had an understanding with the crown. The king let them be to harass the masses and they didn¡¯t actively plot his downfall. Boundaries created an uneasy trust.

    Senior¡¯s death must have seemed like a miracle given by the saints. Nobles were like vultures. When one of their own fell, they rushed all over themselves to pick over the remains. The royal family, the most powerful nobles in the kingdom, were no exception and the Grimoires should have made a juicy meal.

    Not only did they not get to dine on the family¡¯s resources, the new patriarch emerged stronger than his predecessor. Junior was nothing like his father. He didn¡¯t have the same vices or ambitions. That meant there were no deals that could be made to control him and that made a lot of people very nervous.

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    It escaped no one¡¯s notice that the only recognizable elemental on the banned list were the succubi. The crown was afraid of the Masons. If they could no longer wield the family¡¯s terrible reputation against them due to Junior¡¯s reforms, there would be no stopping them. Therefore, the king had decided to take action before it was too late. Put the Masons to the sword before people forgot the sins of their forefathers. The rest of the summoning community were simply collateral damage.

    The other two occupants of the table were new to him. The Tomes didn¡¯t engage with other summoners. He wouldn¡¯t say it aloud but he considered wild summoners to be inferior. His family had centuries of tradition that trumped anything that could be learned through interacting with self-taught individuals who had taken up the art because they¡¯d failed to become proper casters.

    Even at the Summoning Hall, he hadn¡¯t learned anything. It was simply the ideal environment to conduct research. However, what they were attempting couldn¡¯t be done by any one group so Luke tried to keep his bias to himself.

    In the seat next to Junior was a middle-aged man wearing fine clothes and an expression of contempt. His usual appearance. He had the pale complexion common to the capital, with common brown eyes and dark hair that was thinning at the top. He called himself Lazarus, though Luke would bet ten gold crowns that it wasn¡¯t the name he was born with, and he claimed to specialize in ¡°prideful¡± summons. Elementals that looked down on human summoners and would demand unreasonable or impossible terms to secure a contract.

    The man was interesting enough, if a bit grating. More importantly, he volunteered to form the contract with the drakkon, knowing full well the consequences. That alone would be enough to earn Luke¡¯s respect. Anyone who risked their life so he didn¡¯t have to risk his deserved common courtesy at the very least.

    Seated next to him was a young man with the golden complexion of the south and curly hair tied back with a clip. An unusual style for men in the capital but he was an artist and they were always an unconventional bunch. His paint-spattered pants and loose shirt that exposed enough of his skinny chest to be considered indecent added to his strange appearance.

    He would be the one to draw the circle. Luke had been recruited for his knowledge but he didn¡¯t have the steadiest hand or most colorful mind. Summoning was an art of intention. A magic where the creative excelled as much as the scholarly.

    Luke was the best in one respect, and dared anyone to say otherwise, but lacked in the ther. If the circle was a written invitation, Luke was the best candidate to draft the words but Ambrose had better penmanship. Supposedly, having another draw a circle was a common practice amongst independent summoners. Ambrose and his master were the most well regarded amongst those who specialized in such work.

    ¡°Lord Tome!¡± Ambrose called with a youthful enthusiasm Luke both admired and despised. ¡°Thank you for joining us once again. Since some of us are still missing, perhaps we can have another discussion.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the others will be here soon,¡± he replied while taking his seat, unwilling to play teacher. ¡°And there are other things we should be discussing. Junior.¡±

    ¡°Old man.¡±

    ¡°Have you spoken with my daughter?¡± When their plan had gotten underway, he¡¯d thought to include her. Not just because of her powerful wife. Lourianne had proven herself a capable summoner. She also had the right temperament, willing to spend weeks researching and crafting the perfect circle.

    One day, she¡¯d be better than him, something he was looking forward to almost as much as the day she finally decided to stop pretending to be allergic to responsibility and pushed aside his brother to claim the Tome family. It would have been nice to have had her beside him.

    ¡°Why do you think she would speak to me before you?¡±

    ¡°You seemed to have grown closer before she left the capital.¡±

    Junior scoffed before throwing a discreet glance at the succubus beside him. ¡°She doesn¡¯t contact me directly, but I hear things. Apparently, she¡¯s messing around in Victory.¡±

    ¡°Victory?!¡± Luke shouted, feeling a rare bout of concern. He had never been to the northernmost territory of the kingdom, but all knew it was a place where men died in droves. ¡°By the saints, what¡¯s she doing there?¡±

    ¡°What anyone¡¯s doing there this time of year, I suppose. Don¡¯t get your robes twisted in a bunch. She¡¯ll be fine as long as that monster is beside her.¡±

    ¡°¡­of course.¡± The thought of the powerful elf quashed his momentary worry. It still mystified him that his daughter had brought home such a ¡°wife¡±. Her marrying another woman was unexpected but easy to accept when said woman was a foreign princess of incredible power. ¡°That explains why I haven¡¯t received a response to my letter.¡±

    ¡°Is your daughter particularly skilled?¡±

    Luke unconsciously straightened with pride as he turned to the curious artist. ¡°She is.¡±

    ¡°¡­is she beautiful?¡±

    He blinked at Ambrose, shocked into silence facing the unrepentant smile the young man wore. ¡°What kind of man asks a father that question?¡±

    ¡°One that wants to secure a future beyond paints. It would be an honor to marry into a family with the history of the Tomes and it¡¯s best to keep it all in the community, isn¡¯t it? I am a good man who knows how to treat a woman well, I assure you.¡±

    ¡°You better stop there,¡± Junior said, Luke remaining quiet as he tried to formulate a response to the unexpected proposal.

    ¡°Oh? Does the young master of the Masons have an interest? There were rumors that a young woman had inspired your many changes. I thought it referenced the lovely creature beside you but given Lord Tome¡¯s words, perhaps not?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t joke. I¡¯m not¡ª" Junior abruptly stopped, once more looking toward his succubus. Then he let out an explosive sigh. ¡°Lou¡¯s a wonderful woman but has no interest in men. No, she is anti-men. The best-case scenario of you showing any interest in her is being shooed away like a stray dog. If you try to broker an engagement behind her back, you¡¯re dead, no doubt about it. Won¡¯t even be her. I¡¯d bet good money her wife kicks down your door and puts an arrow through your eye.¡±

    ¡°Unless I can woo them both.¡± Ambrose shrugged at the incredulous look Junior fixed on him. ¡°It¡¯s not my first time seeing two women inclined to one another. I wouldn¡¯t get between a romance, but two hands can hold two women, you know?¡±

    ¡°¡­your death,¡± Junior muttered.

    ¡°If you three are done gossiping,¡± Lazarus sneered. ¡°Perhaps we can speak of something of substance. For example, our demands.¡±

    Luke leaped onto the topic he knew how to handle. ¡°We¡¯ve already decided this,¡± he said, not bothering to hide his exasperation.

    ¡°And they are too small. We are going to contract a drakkon in the middle of the capital. The crown and the most important nobles in the kingdom will be at our mercy. Now is the time to think ambitiously.¡±

    ¡°We have plenty of ambition, but haste will doom us all.¡±

    ¡°How about you actually manage to contract the thing before talking about demands,¡± Junior scoffed.

    ¡°Our success is guaranteed.¡±

    ¡°Famous last words.¡±

    Luke agreed. Luckily, the sound of the cellar¡¯s door being opened saved him from wrestling with either his comrades¡¯ egos or questionable interest in his daughter.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-03

    Soon, the last of those expected for the meeting entered the cellar. In the lead was someone of unassuming stature with every feature hidden. Their hands were hidden by dark gloves, their face a mask, and a long cloak obscured everything else besides the ends of brown pants not tucked into their boots. Not even their eyes were visible, the usual holes covered by thin black fabric that lined the inside of the mask.

    The stranger had been introduced as Mr. Gold and worked for the Guiness company. That¡¯s all Luke knew of their merchant contact. Their plan required resources, a vast number of them. Too many to go unnoticed by the largest trading house in the city. Rather than have them profit by selling the information to interested parties, it was better to tie them to their cause.

    Besides, the Guiness Company were the only ones who had the courage to work with them. The summoners were being targeted by the crown. Few merchants wanted to risk royal sanction for a quick coin. The Guiness were too powerful to be threatened by the king.

    Luke doubted that they would be so accommodating if they knew what the supplies were being used for. The golden family could be audacious in pursuit of gold, but they would never support treason. Undoubtedly, the merchants had guessed the summoners intended to summon something, but for once the obscurity of the art worked in the summoners¡¯ favor and their trading partners had no idea what was about to enter the realm. No amount of gold was worth being associated with a drakkon summoning.

    The Guiness Company was remaining cautious. While it would be suicide to antagonize the trading house and the marquis that controlled it, they could cause him problems if they revealed their cooperation. In such an event, they would need proof, the most crucial being a face and a name. Hence, the cloak and mask. They also required insurance in the form of their proxy, Mr. Gold, meeting all the conspirators. A dangerous condition but they didn¡¯t have much choice if they wanted their goods in a reasonable time frame.

    Mr. Gold knew nothing, of course. They kept their words vague in his presence and the proxy at least had the courtesy to leave after a few courteous words. Luke hardly paid the man any mind. The Guiness Company would know all their faces once the damage was done but they wanted to be known. To narrow a widespread attack against a whole community to a few targets. Junior would attract the crown¡¯s ire and the rest of the antagonism would follow. It would also make others think twice about targeting summoners when they realized the supposedly easy prey could not only fight back but decimate their territories.

    There was also the chance that the crown decided to eradicate summoners with prejudice. It was something Luke had brought up frequently and kept him awake on his worst nights. They had a plan for that too. Whether it was sufficient was debatable.

    Luke didn¡¯t think there was any good plan that involved an entire kingdom turning on them, but his associates were confident. As he couldn¡¯t dissuade them and refused to turn on them, the only remaining choice was to go along with the madness and hope his good sense could keep them from making a grave mistake.

    His only source of relief was that his compatriots weren¡¯t foolish enough to stay within the city. Once they secured their drakkon, they would retreat to a hidden location. That, combined with their agents that would remain in the city, would give them a window to regroup, observe, and confirm their next steps. He hoped by then, the summoners would have satisfied their inner rebels and would agree to make less conspicuous moves.

    His greatest hope for the group¡¯s future restraint and the only reason he hadn¡¯t left the city with as much as he could carry walked behind the merchant. The one who had brought the summoners of the capital together and had connections with groups throughout the kingdom. The leader of the independent summoners. Emerett.

    The lack of a last name implied a common background but no one would think so from his appearance. Despite his silvered hair, his back remained straight, his body strong, and he had the presence of those with power. The confidence of the capable.

    Assurance filled every gesture, from his casual gait to the slight quirk of his lips. Despite being involved in a scheme that would see him and anyone related to him killed if discovered, he looked as calm as one might strolling through a garden. When Luke saw him, he could trick himself into thinking they hadn¡¯t all gone insane and could really change the kingdom with their own hands.

    Their leader normally dressed in fineries, another thing that made Luke suspect he wasn¡¯t as common as his name suggested, but to maintain secrecy, he had lowered himself to the common rags of a laborer. The only sign of his usual ostentation was a single ring, an unattractive blocky thing of gold.

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    ¡°Good evening, gentlemen,¡± he said happily, as if he was meeting old friends instead of his secret cabal. There was no chair for him because Emerett refused seating. Claimed that chairs made him lazy and at his age, if he indulged his body a little, it wouldn¡¯t get up in the morning. Luke wasn¡¯t happy that a man several decades his senior was in a better shape than him, but he didn¡¯t plan to give up cushions anytime soon.

    ¡°No, take a seat.¡± He waved off Ambrose, who tried to offer Emerett his chair, as the artist did every meeting. Luke didn¡¯t know if it was good manners or brown-nosing. He¡¯d put his crowns on the latter. No one willing to summon a drakkon in the most populated city in the kingdom should be mistaken as a decent person. ¡°Lazarus, you look well.¡±

    The prideful summoner huffed. ¡°You¡¯re late.¡±

    ¡°My apologies. A comrade needed a little help liberating a few assets from an unscrupulous sponsor. The nobles are really taking liberties. Can you believe they tried to keep the man¡¯s records, claiming that any research he produced while under their sponsorship belonged to them? Nevermind there was no mention of such nonsense in the contract he signed. But of course there wasn¡¯t. No summoner worth their elementals would work for an employer that forced them to sacrifice their records. I don¡¯t know what the noble imbecile wanted them for. They¡¯re hardly something to fetch a decent price in the open market.¡±

    ¡°He did it because he could. The powerful don¡¯t need any other reason. Which is why we must become the powerful.¡± Lazarus looked at the unwelcome Mr. Gold. ¡°I assume you have an update for us.¡±

    The proxy nodded. ¡°This morning, Emerett took possession of all goods ordered. He requested four additional receipts.¡±

    ¡°We all trust one another implicitly I¡¯m sure,¡± Emerett said as Mr. Gold passed the receipts to the seated summoners. ¡°Transparency is simply a means to reinforce that trust so it holds when it is inevitably tested.¡±

    Luke agreed with the sentiment. He trusted his new comrades as much as he could trust strangers but seeing the receipt reflect exactly what their leader said he would buy for exactly what he said it cost did much for his opinion of him and independent summoners in general. It hadn¡¯t been easy parting with his money but none of them were wealthy. To afford what they needed, everyone needed to give what they could.

    ¡°The Guiness Company thanks you for your patronage and we look forward to fulfilling your future orders.¡± The proxy paused. ¡°I also have a request.¡±

    Luke straightened. Up until then, Mr. Gold had gone out of his way to be unobtrusive. Doing his best to fade into the background, hoping they would forget his presence and let slip something important. A request out of nowhere was worryingly direct.

    ¡°Of course!¡± Emerett said, his tone nonplussed. ¡°If it is within our power, it¡¯d be our honor to assist the esteemed Guiness family.¡±

    ¡°We would like to know what elemental you are attempting to summon.¡±

    ¡°Attempting?¡± Lazarus scoffed but a raised hand from their leader stopped him before he could launch into a rant.

    ¡°Are your bosses really interested in what a few unknown summoners are getting up to in a dirty cellar under a dirtier bar? It¡¯s nothing interesting, I assure you.¡±

    ¡°The Tomes are not unknown.¡±

    The room turned to Luke. He grimaced. ¡°The marquis isn¡¯t interested in me. I assume he wants to know if my daughter is involved and if he can garner some favor from her wife by offering further support. Discretely, of course.¡±

    Mr. Gold said nothing but his heavy stare said everything his mouth didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Lou has nothing to do with it.¡± He spread his hands and shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re nothing but a bunch of summoners who found each other while drinking away our woes and decided to work together on a project. Solidarity in the face of persecution. Nothing to interest the golden patriarch. Summoners aren¡¯t known to be wealthy.¡±

    There was a beat of silence that said Mr. Gold didn¡¯t believe a word of his nonsense. Then he calmly said, ¡°I see. Then I will simply remind you that the Guiness Company provides many services, including transportation throughout the kingdom¡­and beyond.¡±

    An offer to spirit them from the capital, after whatever misdeed he surely thought they had planned. An offer that would undoubtedly be rescinded. It was no matter. They had their own methods of escape.

    ¡°We¡¯ll remember,¡± Emerett assured him with a friendly smile.

    ¡°Very good. Then I will bid you gentlemen a good night.¡± He bowed to the room before ascending the latter, swiftly disappearing.

    They all remained quiet as Ambrose snapped his fingers. The air around his shoulders shimmered and a creature appeared. It closely resembled a white-furred cat except for its abnormally large ears, its lack of eyes, and two tails made of changing light.

    Luke recognized it, of course. The name given to them by their original summoner was vivid skulkers but the more popular name was color cats. Creatures with a decent mana coefficients, decent mastery of the wind affinity, and a light affinity they only used for camouflage. They had an unusual obsession with stalking prey, though they made poor hunters. Great for tracking enemies. Or making sure dismissed parties weren¡¯t eavesdropping around the corner.

    The skulker disappeared for a few minutes before reappearing on Ambrose¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Everything¡¯s clear,¡± he said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you entertained that nonsense,¡± Lazarus grumbled.

    ¡°It¡¯s all a part of the plan,¡± Emerett said, moving around the table to stand behind Ambrose¡¯s chair. He scratched the elemental¡¯s chin. ¡°Now, shall we get on with our meeting?¡±

 Miniarc-Overreaching-04

    Emerett was a friendly man. Perhaps too friendly. Luke didn¡¯t know how to handle someone who smiled without pretense and wasn¡¯t making small talk when he asked about others¡¯ day. If the man was a noble, Luke would assume it was all a ruse to entice others into dropping their guards. It could be that¡¯s what it was. Negotiations were a core part of summoning and deception was a core tenet of negotiation. But Emerett didn¡¯t feel like someone who spent their life wearing a mask. Rather the opposite. He was simply¡­free. With his thoughts. With his words. He knew when to speak and when not to but when he did, he spoke his true feelings.

    That was why Luke accepted him as a leader. The other three followed him because of his reputation but the baron didn¡¯t know the independent summoners. He¡¯d ignored the first member of their group that tried to contact him. Threatened to maim the second. Only when Emerett came by did he stop to listen. If he had been a schemer, Luke wouldn¡¯t have bothered, as he was no good at scheming. It was his genuineness that got him through the door. When Emerett spoke, Luke believed in what he said. Believed in the impossible.

    His honest nature wasn¡¯t to be mistaken as weakness. The old summoner was still strong, time failing to break him physically or mentally, and he could show that strength. As the conversation turned serious, Emerett¡¯s smile faded and his tone lost its cheer. ¡°With the supplies secured, Lord Tome can begin building the circle. They have already been moved to the site. I would ask that you be there by tomorrow night at the latest. We don¡¯t have time to waste.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°For security reasons, you won¡¯t be allowed to leave once you arrive and we¡¯ll be limited in bringing supplies.¡±

    Luke huffed. ¡°We¡¯ve already discussed this. I bring everything I need with me or I don¡¯t get it. Everything has already been prepared.¡±

    ¡°And Jackal is ready?¡±

    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s ready.¡± His brother, Javarius Tome, had not been happy being sidelined by the independent summoners. Society was ripe with tales of succession battles. Brothers competing in cruel competition to inherit their father¡¯s riches. Such things had never happened in the Tome family. They didn¡¯t have anything worth fighting over.

    Jackal was ambitious enough to scheme for his future, but he had never needed to compete with Luke. He had always been bigger, stronger, and more assertive. Luke had more brains, but he didn¡¯t have the cunning or the patience to climb the social hierarchy. If their father had needed to choose, Jackal would have won his favor without question.

    After his brother became the family patriarch, Luke never questioned his brother¡¯s words. Even when he was exiled from the capital to their poor excuse of a territory. As long as he was allowed to read his books, continue his research, and raise his daughter in peace, Luke didn¡¯t care one way or the other what his brother did with the family. Jackal saw his brother as another lackey and that was fine.

    That was why it was utterly incomprehensible to the Tome patriarch that anyone would value Luke over him. Never mind Luke had dedicated his life to summoning. Jackal was better. He was the head of the family. He should have been the one Emerett personally came to see.

    Of course, he changed his tune when they revealed their plan. Becoming a public enemy was a task he was happy to leave to his brother. He was happier still when he was given the role of a hero.

    Their goal was to correct the king¡¯s views on summoners. Beasts were tamed with whips and treats. While the monarch would undoubtedly take offense to the comparison, men were much the same. The drakkon would be the whip. The danger would give the summoners authority and legitimacy. Its presence would make the people in charge listen when they spoke. Hopefully, without casualties. Senseless slaughter served no one.

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    Jackal would be the treat. He would step forward to council the king against a threat only summoners could truly understand. He would also heroically and tragically sell out his brother who had fallen under the sway of radical summoners. Something the Guiness Company would confirm when they were investigated for aiding rebels. The Tome family, nobles who had contributed to the founding of the kingdom and remained faithful vassals to the crown, would become the voice of reason, denouncing the rebel elements of the summoning community.

    If the king wasn¡¯t a fool, he would see Jackal as the perfect figurehead to unite the summoners and prevent future crisis. Then Jackal could use the trust built battling ¡°evil¡± summoners to advise the king in ways summoners could be useful to the kingdom, making them relevant. Maybe even important.

    Meanwhile, Luke and his cabal would take their brainwashed drakkon and build their secret city of summoners. In three decades, Jackal would have established himself as a member of the court and Luke¡¯s cabal would have a small army of powerful elementals. Two avenues that would secure the future of summoning.

    In a perfect world, both plans would succeed, doubling the strength of their position. In reality, they would be lucky if one path led to some success. Luke would prefer it if the successful part was the operation he was part of but he would accept anything that saved the art.

    Except execution. He would give a lot of things for summoning, shameful things, but not his life.

    ¡°Ambrose, you will go with him and will assist Lord Tome with whatever he requires.¡±

    ¡°It would be my honor,¡± the young man said with toothy grin.

    Luke huffed. The thought of an assistant irked him, but he couldn¡¯t deny the man¡¯s skill. Also, Ambrose could cook. To a man who forgot to eat when absorbed in his work, having a good chef about was a tremendous help.

    ¡°Lazarus. Your final request has been granted.¡±

    A rare smile graced the prideful caster¡¯s face, alleviating his permanent scowl. One of the man¡¯s conditions for contracting the drakkon had been a ¡®wish¡¯ to which only Emerett was privy. A dying wish.

    Besides the many things that could go wrong in the summoning itself, Lazarus was essentially forfeiting his life. He was confident in his ability to negotiate terms with prideful elementals but that only meant he wouldn¡¯t be maimed and would retain a modicum of freedom.

    Being the contractor of the drakkon would also make him the prime target of the crown¡¯s retaliation. If things went according to plan, they would never reach him, but the threat would linger over his head for the rest of his life.

    ¡°Then I will be at the site in a week.¡±

    ¡°Whoa, a week?¡± Ambrose looked aghast. ¡°Do you know how large a circle to contain a drakkon is going to be? Trying to do all of that in a week¡­my hands will fall off first.¡±

    Luke rubbed the side of his head. ¡°I¡¯ve already told you, we do not need the circle to accommodate the whole of the creature.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s still huge!¡±

    ¡°I will provide enough stimulants to keep you awake.¡±

    The artist groaned and dropped his head to the table. Emerett patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Everything is for the good of summoning.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to die.¡±

    The old summoner chuckled. ¡°That brings us to the most crucial aspect of our plan.¡± His eyes moved to Junior. ¡°Are you ready, young patriarch?¡±

    ¡°Sure, but it¡¯s not like I¡¯m doing anything.¡± Junior slumped in his chair. ¡°The pets are doing all the work. Fen.¡±

    The succubus beside him smiled charmingly. ¡°My fellow thralls will be arriving at the summoning site over the week. We will begin our work the moment the contract is secured.¡±

    Emerett hummed. ¡°I believe a succubus can influence even a drakkon given enough time and resources, but I have a harder time imagining the creature won¡¯t notice.¡±

    Fen nodded. ¡°Mana intrusion is impossible to disguise but creatures will adapt to anything. We will make the drakkon ask us to use our magic on it. Then, when it is accustomed to our magic, we will begin our work.¡±

    ¡°If anyone can do it, then it is you. All the pieces have been assembled. We¡¯re all ready. There is only one thing that can stop us now and that is¡­ourselves. We must keep faith in our vision, in our plan, and most importantly in one another. Each man must play his role. The kingdom preys on us because we are divided. No longer. Summoners will no longer be a group of eccentrics. We will become an institution. Perhaps, in time, we will become a city. Perhaps, a kingdom, with our own king attended by a court of his summoned elementals. It all starts here.¡±

 Miniarc-Overreaching-05

    Emerett continued to dazzle them with his vision of the future. They would claim the unwanted and undeveloped southern lands for their own and transform them into a paradise grand enough to fill the saints with envy. Each man would have his own territory to do with as he pleased. Otherworldly riches would flow with such abundance that they would pave their roads in precious metals and carve their thrones from gems. Their hands would usher in a new golden age for humanity as their influence spread not only throughout the Harvest kingdom but the world.

    Luke let them have their moment, resisting the urge to point out that building such a kingdom would take years, if not decades. They¡¯d likely be dead before its conception. Surely, powerful elementals could hasten its construction, but they would exact a heavy price. He still wasn¡¯t very comfortable relying on the succubi to tame the drakkon and its progeny, imagining a thousand catastrophes that could go wrong if they relaxed their vigilance for a moment. Giving those creatures, or others like them, an entire kingdom? He couldn¡¯t imagine.

    That¡¯s why Luke, despite his knowledge and experience, was not the leader. He believed in a practical approach to summoning. Careful approaches and even more careful contracts to avoid lethal consequences. Summoning was not the place for high-risk, high-reward strategy because the risk could be the end of the humanity. His frank assessments of their schemes would have made the men think twice. Perhaps give up the thought of open rebellion entirely.

    Emerett did the opposite. The man was too knowledgeable not to understand the dangers of the plan, but his easy confidence glossed over them. Hearing him speak, there was no chance of failure and the world was waiting for them to claim it.

    The independent summoners fell for it like a stone dropped into a pool of water. Lazarus and Ambrose smiled the whole meeting. The young artist even had the gall to describe the golden palace he would build, complete with the harem of a hundred beautiful women that would service his every need. His fantasy easily erased his interest in Lou, something that irritated Luke the tiniest amount.

    Lazarus was more reserved, but he had grand plans of his own. The arrogant man liked the idea of summoner kings. A little too much, Luke thought. In the kingdom he thought he would build, only summoners would hold power, one¡¯s elementals determining their worth.

    Surprisingly, Junior seemed just as unenthused as Luke. The young patriarch sat with a glum frown as they discussed details and particulars, not even twitching as the cabal discussed the eventual spoils of their victory. Luke would have thought he¡¯d be the most excited. Every Grimoire before him had taken an almost perverse pleasure in bringing others down and, given his succubi were the key to their whole plot, he would have the clout to build the greatest new kingdom of all. Yet, their discussions only seemed to annoy the young man.

    Luke wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed. After their meeting was finished, he and Junior were asked to stay behind. With two seats empty, Emerett finally sat, crossing his hands in his lap as he stared at them. ¡°We have a problem,¡± he said casually.

    ¡°Impossible,¡± Luke immediately refuted.

    ¡°Not with your theory, Lord Tome. With your attitudes. Both of you.¡± Emerett took on the airs of a disappointed father. ¡°As much as I preach that summoners are equal, each having the ability to achieve greatness, it is undeniable that there is a difference between those who have just discovered the art and the summoning families. The Tome and the Masons chief among them.

    ¡°I have a powerful reputation among the independent summoners but you must understand, your participation was just as significant to rallying them to our cause as my name. Maybe more so. Those who know of you admire¨C¡± His gaze focused on Luke. ¡°-and respect you,¡± he finished, turning to Junior. ¡°So, your moods affect them. And the two of you have been nothing but dour from the beginning. I¡¯ve heard whispers. People think you don¡¯t have confidence in our plan and they in turn lose confidence. Therefore!¡±

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    The old summoner leaned forward, gaze sharp. ¡°If you have any worries, real worries, then now is the time to speak them. I want the two of you going into this summoning with clear hearts and minds.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already told you what bothers me,¡± Luke griped. Which was everything. ¡°This whole scheme will either make us legends or doom us to the Abyss. It¡¯s more risk than I am comfortable taking but now that I¡¯m committed, I will see it through to the end and do all I can for its success.¡± As a Tome, there was no way he would give a summoning he was involved in anything less than his very best.

    ¡°Good, good. Well said, Lord Tome. Truly, you are worthy of every summoner¡¯s respect.¡± The leader turned to Junior. ¡°Then, what of you young Gordon? Now is the time to speak your mind. If there is anything that troubles you about our endeavor, let us address it so you can act with confidence.¡±

    Junior scowled. For a moment, Luke thought he would curse Emerett, such was the venom contained in his glare. But then the young man¡¯s expression eased and he glanced to his thrall. Luke inwardly scoffed, wondering if the boy could do anything without conspiring with the creature.

    Admittedly, the succubus was a font of knowledge and would always have a better answer than anything the young patriarch could cobble together, no matter the situation, but such blatant dependence was unseemly.

    After several moments, he turned back to Emerett. ¡°The reason I¡¯m not skipping around as if a crown is already being delivered to me is because I keep wondering about what we¡¯re not thinking of.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve planned for every variable you can imagine,¡± Luke said, feeling his work called into question.

    ¡°That¡¯s my point. You¡¯ve planned for every variable you can imagine and your imagination is sorely lacking. Let¡¯s say we summon this drakkon, bend it to our will, and successfully escape after causing widespread mayhem. All the plans we discussed are about how we will handle the crown and the nobles, as if that¡¯s the only thing we have to worry about. But those aren¡¯t the only threats in the kingdom or the world.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Go on,¡± Emerett encouraged.

    ¡°The crown is weak and the nobles are lazy. We can outrun and outsmart them, sure. I believe that. But what if other factions get involved? What if, uh, the crown uses a threat to the kingdom to march the knights of the north? I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard how crazy those bastards are. Do your plans account for them?

    ¡°Or what about other races? Goblins are invading the south. What if rumors of a drakkon draws more of them to our shores?¡±

    ¡°I would think a mighty predator would send them away,¡± Luke scoffed.

    ¡°And what about the elves? From Lou¡¯s bragging, her wife loves a good fight. So do the rest of her people. They haven¡¯t taken notice of us because we aren¡¯t worth their attention. A drakkon might be. Are you prepared to fend off an army of elves?¡±

    ¡°Do you have reason to believe the elves will intervene?¡± Emerett asked seriously. Deservedly, as the thought of a master pure physical caster intervening in their plans was serious indeed.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you worrying for?¡± Luke snapped, annoyed that he had been just as alarmed as Emerett for a moment. ¡°Paradise could fall from the heavens tomorrow. The Abyss could swallow us tonight. It¡¯s impossible to plan for every conceivable outcome. It¡¯s hard enough to determine and plan for the most probable.¡±

    ¡°Lord Tome is correct,¡± Emerett continued in a much gentler voice. ¡°I understand our mission is nerve-wracking but you must believe in the efforts of your comrades. We have worked. We are prepared. All that can hold us back from success is ourselves. Fear is the greatest enemy and only you can defeat it.¡±

    Junior scoffed, the rousing words sliding right off him. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about me performing. I¡¯ll handle my role perfectly. If any of you falter, I¡¯ll play your roles too. This plan will succeed. I just hope you¡¯re prepared for what comes next. The kingdom¡­the world will never be the same.¡±

    Luke was shocked at the ominous tone of the words. There was a conviction behind them. A deep foreboding. One that made him question whether the young patriarch was hiding something from them. An unease strengthened by the amused smile of his thrall. He knew what kind of things amused such a creature.

    ¡°I see I overreacted. Come, gentlemen. There is much to be done and nothing to be done wasting the night in this hovel. Let us return to our homes.¡±

    As Luke stood, he decided he could take another look through the records. See if there was really something he¡¯d overlooked. But if Junior¡¯s fears were correct, it would be no use because no one could imagine what would befall them.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-06

    The site they chose for the summoning was an old farm just outside the city. The ramshackle barn, in particular. The old man who owned the land had no sons interested in working the land and was too old to see to its maintenance himself.

    The cantankerous bastard was wasting away along with his fields. His nasty attitude had long ago driven off any friends and invited the wilds to swallow the place. It was the kind of place eyes just slid over. If nothing was done, it¡¯d be a bandit den in a decade. For now, it was the perfect place for rogue summoners to open a door to another realm.

    The first person to summon a drakkon in Harvest was an independent summoner who had found an ancient summoner¡¯s research into the existence of dragons. All knew that the majesties of the sky were unmatched but the event that sparked the Great War had driven home exactly how powerful they were. Unreasonably so. It didn¡¯t make sense how one species could drastically outclass every other being in the world. And so, the ancient summoner had developed a theory that dragons were not of their world.

    The successor to his work had scoured many realms, searching for clues about the origins of the supreme race. At the end of that search, the poor man found the first drakkon. A powerful being that resembled the dragons of their world somewhat, if not closely.

    Luke had the opportunity to read the man¡¯s record at the Summoner Hall, where it was kept under lock and key. Their contract had been the usual affair. The drakkon had used the summoner¡¯s curiosity to build trust. Then the creature promised to make him a king if given free reign. The rest was the predictable result. The monster rampaged, claiming innocent lives, until a hero stepped forward to defeat it.

    Afterwards, the summoner was taken into custody and interrogated. It was the Grimoires that had pressured the previous king to allow the man to complete his record, detailing all he knew about the creature. From it, they learned that the drakkons were violent and arrogant. Their contracts were horrendously unfair, their summoners more glorified servants than partners. No one considered them threats because to contract them was to become a slave. Summoners formed contracts for power, not a life bowing and scraping for an enormous snake, no matter how powerful.

    Another reason why no one feared the coming of a second drakkon was that creating the circle was expensive. Sure, the circle could be drawn in chalk on a piece of wood but only the most desperate of drakkons would answer such a sloppy call. To get anything specific, the circle had to be enticing and what enticed a race of conquerors was blood, bone, and riches. Corpses of powerful manabeasts, gold, and gems used as embellishments on a circle painted with ink mixed with fresh blood. Luke preferred his circles carved but Ambrose¡¯s medium was paints and it had been determined that he would be doing the construction.

    Luke¡¯s job was to prepare notes, place markers on the floor, and watch attentively while Ambrose worked. It was a boring responsibility and more than once, he found his mind wandering.

    The favorite track his thoughts liked to meander down was what he would do if they failed. They had a good plan and had taken many precautions, but he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that royal knights would kick down the door any moment. There was nothing he could do to save himself in such an event, but he hoped he could talk them into not going after the rest of his family. The younger generation especially. Jackal¡¯s son had refused to participate, going as far as to move out of the house after being given the faintest clues about their objective while the girls knew nothing. Letting the ambition of two old men ruin the whole Tome family wouldn¡¯t be right.

    Then again, he doubted there was anything he could do for Lou that she couldn¡¯t do for herself. The same for Jackal. They knew that, somehow, she¡¯d killed her cousin¡¯s engagement before it could become more than a thought and somehow got a girl with no experience in a shop work with the Guiness Company. That showed she had connections and wasn¡¯t afraid to use them. Normally, his worries ended in gloom as he realized his family didn¡¯t need him.

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    From there, they moved onto what he would do if he really was granted a kingdom. He didn¡¯t indulge in the musings of the others but alone, he could admit the idea was¡­appealing. As long as he didn¡¯t have to do any actual ruling. Luke had abysmal administrative skills and charisma. He wouldn¡¯t mind receiving the admiration of the masses while lounging on a throne, but all the actual work would have to be handled by someone else.

    Of course, that meant his supposed kingdom would collapse in a few years, if not months. Only a fool would think they could remain in power while someone else ran their kingdom. If he was lucky, he wouldn¡¯t see the blade before it pierced his heart. If he was really lucky, the hand wielding it would be an enemy and not someone he thought he could trust.

    No, there would be no kingdoms in Luke Tome¡¯s future. A conclusion that led him to the question of what did lie in his future. As an outlaw, he wouldn¡¯t have many options.

    Some days, he thought he would simply continue working for the cabal. Make sure they didn¡¯t doom the kingdom once the power reached their heads. Other days, he considered traveling. If the Harvest kingdom wouldn¡¯t welcome him, he¡¯d find somewhere that would. Perhaps the land of the elves. His daughter had found a bride there. Mayhap he could find one as well. He had given up on matrimony a long time ago but if all the women looked like Kierra Atainna, well, he¡¯d have to reconsider.

    ¡°Finished!¡±

    On the evening of their fifth night together, Ambrose let out the ecstatic claim while pushing to his feet. He carefully backed out of his painting and admired it from the edge. Luke closed the record he was reading from and placed it on his chair before moving to stand by the young artist¡¯s side. He made thoughtful noises while he examined the work. Nothing was out of place and, for all his many faults, Ambrose certainly had skill with a brush.

    The goal of the summoning was to draw a female drakkon. From what little they knew of their realm, all of them were violent and driven to conquer large swathes of territory. However, there was a big difference between a general and a warlord. They wanted a female with a mind for strategy. A mind they would be able to reason with and could appreciate the summoners as possible collaborators rather than weak, hairless apes.

    Normally, a summoner drew their circle with scenes from their own experience, to make it more personal. This wasn¡¯t a circle meant for Luke. Therefore, he employed more vague imagery. Scenes of war and conquest between men, beast, and elemental, led by queens and matriarchs. The circle encompassing the measured chaos was a stylistic drakkon eating its own tail. That had been Ambrose¡¯s idea. Luke had been skeptical but it looked good. Added a bit of elegance that might work to draw a more sophisticated mind rather than the brainless brute that was the first drakkon summoned to their realm.

    ¡°Good. We will let it dry overnight before finishing it.¡±

    ¡°This is really happening, huh?¡±

    Luke looked over, taking in the other man¡¯s nervous smile. Was he having regrets? It really was the worst timing. Even if he had finally understood the consequences of his actions and thought better of them, his role was over. There was nothing stopping Luke from killing the young artist aside from his own distaste.

    ¡°It is. I suggest you rest because the next few days are going to be busy.¡±

    He didn¡¯t wait for Ambrose to answer before leaving. The barn was large, which it had to be to contain a drakkon, but there wasn¡¯t much room for sleeping. Luke had to make do with a sleeping roll against the wall. He was far too old to sleep on the hard ground but sometimes ignoble circumstances had to be endured for noble goals.

    Luke walked out of the back entrance, the doors permanently ajar as they no longer sat right on their hinges. He walked a few paces to ensure he wasn¡¯t seen before calling, ¡°Root.¡±

    One of his four elementals appeared before him, a barely perceptible ring of energy tinged a faint beige. The old summoner felt a wave of nostalgia as he observed his partner for over two decades. How far he¡¯d come from the young man with nothing to lose and everything to prove. Nowhere as far as he¡¯d thought he¡¯d go but that didn¡¯t bother him anymore. He would have been content to fade away into obscurity, doing research until he drew his last breath. Amazingly, his younger self had been right. He was destined for greater things.

    ¡°No creature leaves or approaches the building.¡±

    The elemental flashed to show its understanding before sinking into the ground. Luke turned back to the barn, hoping that his precautions would prove unnecessary, but nothing could be allowed to get in their way.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-07

    The next day, Luke directed the younger and stronger Ambrose to place massive bones around the circle. He placed the gold and gems himself after spotting the sticky-fingered artist slipping a small diamond into his pocket. He particularly liked putting two large emeralds in the eye sockets of a beast with a mouthful of fearsome teeth. Oh, what he could have made their circle with more time and infinite wealth. He had to content himself with a few embellishments.

    That night, Ambrose departed to deliver a message to their conspirator, leaving Luke to guard the circle. Perched on a seat raised from the earth by his elemental Root, he stared at his work long into the night. Contemplating.

    A part of him wondered if he should be the one to contract the drakkon. The last specimen summoned to their realm had both the wind and the fire affinities. He could forget their crazy plan to threaten the king and take the powerful elemental to the south. Take over a remote village and live a life of leisure.

    He discarded the thought immediately. If he betrayed the others, they¡¯d surely betray him and the king would not allow him to live peacefully. The last drakkon had scarred the kingdom too deeply. Even rumors of one roaming free would have drastic consequences. If the king didn¡¯t come after him, every knight with dreams of being the next Harvest Hero and every hunter who wanted a little gold would.

    He couldn¡¯t stop himself from thinking something about their plan was going to go horribly wrong. They were dealing with forces they couldn¡¯t control. The drakkon. Nobility. Succubi. Engaging with one of those forces could be deadly. Mixing all three was bound to be catastrophic. Drinking dulled his worries and he ended up draining several bottles, provided by their leader for this exact purpose, after which he passed out half inside his sleeping roll.

    A boot to the side woke him the next morning. Emerett smiled down at him, though it was strained. Lazarus, who stood beside him, openly frowned. ¡°Is this what you call guarding our interests, Lord Tome?¡± the prideful summoner bit out.

    ¡°Surely, you didn¡¯t expect me to stay awake all night.¡± Luke rubbed his head to soothe the faint pounding inside it as he climbed to his feet. ¡°Emerett.¡±

    ¡°Lord Tome. I take it your nerves are settled?¡±

    ¡°After consuming so much, I¡¯d be surprised if they weren¡¯t dead.¡±

    Luke spared a moment to glare at Lazarus before clearing his throat. ¡°Give me a moment to wash my face and I¡¯ll be ready to attend anything.¡±

    ¡°No rush. We are still waiting for Lord Mason to arrive. He had business to attend to this morning and will be running late.¡±

    ¡°Running late? Or running?¡±

    ¡°I have faith in our comrade. Besides, Ambrose is accompanying him.¡±

    If Junior wanted to leave town, the young artist wouldn¡¯t present the smallest of obstacles. Luke kept the thought to himself as he stepped outside, grimacing as he relieved himself in the grass before calling another of his elementals to clean up. It wasn¡¯t often that he thought of himself as pampered, but he couldn¡¯t take much more roughing it.

    Back inside, Lazarus was inspecting the circle while Emerett had disappeared. After a moment of indecision, he moved toward the other summoner. He didn¡¯t care for the man¡¯s opinions in general, but he couldn¡¯t sit by while another examined his work. The whole situation was making Luke uncomfortable. For all his life, summoning was a personal thing. His heart laid bare to be judged. What lay before him was not his heart precisely, but it still felt wrong to have another man¡¯s eyes roving over it so intensely.

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    ¡°It¡¯s good work,¡± Lazarus said without looking up.

    The compliment eased some of Luke¡¯s discomfort. ¡°Do you have a strategy?¡±

    ¡°Strategies never survive contact with unknown elementals. I have a basis that I use to approach all powerful elementals. Mostly, it depends on the personality of our future ally.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± It felt like a half-hearted answer but Luke couldn¡¯t afford a better one. ¡°I never asked how you became a summoner.¡±

    Lazarus looked up, scrutinizing Luke¡¯s face. Looking for what, the noble couldn¡¯t guess. Perhaps mockery. The man didn¡¯t seem like he would tolerate an insult, no matter how slight. Thankfully, Luke¡¯s question was innocent, something the proud summoner must have seen as he began to talk after turning his gaze back to the circle.

    ¡°My family has never had a talent for magic. We are only born with basic affinities and a poor talent for building our cores. Thankfully, my forefathers knew better than to settle for lives as laborers. They made their living as scholars. Researchers, advisers, and tutors. As such, their private library was quite extensive. It included summoning records.¡±

    Lazarus shook his head. ¡°I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes when I read them. There it was, a way for the magically stunted to achieve power of their own and my father was content, no, proud to serve ignorant men too stupid to count their own treasuries and chase around their entitled brats. When I told them we should turn our considerable intellect and resources to other realms, they called me insane. When I persisted, they stripped me of my name. And good riddance. I have no need for it or the fools who carry it.¡±

    He turned to Luke. ¡°There is so much beyond our little kingdom. These creatures I invite to my circles. They casually drop secrets of existence like nobles throwing crumbs to their birds for amusement. I¡¯ve never attempted to form a contract. With my abysmal talent, I could only do it once and I wanted it to make a difference. I believed that summoning could change my life. And soon, it will.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± His voice held absolute conviction. Luke appreciated his faith in the art, but he suspected that the man had never faced a difficult summoning. Otherwise, he wouldn¡¯t have such confidence. The best summoner was a cautious summoner. His attitude would get him in trouble eventually. Suddenly, Luke didn¡¯t have high hopes for the coming negotiation.

    ¡°Since we are making an effort to know one another, there is something I¡¯ve been meaning to ask. Your family has practiced summoning for generations. Why aren¡¯t you high nobles, at the very least?¡±

    ¡°You would find it hard to prosper with a family like the Grimoires hounding you and all your descendants as well.¡±

    ¡°There are plenty of things that can handle a thrall or five.¡±

    ¡°None that I would like to make a deal with.¡±

    ¡°I see. So you would rather be dogs than make a few sacrifices.¡±

    In his mind, Luke adjusted his view of the other man from stout believer to quiet fanatic. ¡°Those sacrifices you¡¯re talking about could mean anything from sacrificing half our children to helping them burn the world. Some prices are too steep for anyone¡¯s coin purse.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡±

    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t take such an attitude into tonight¡¯s summoning.¡±

    Lazarus scoffed. ¡°There¡¯s no need to be afraid. I won¡¯t promise our new comrade your head. But you should prepare yourself. These beings aren¡¯t like us. They have wants and desires that we don¡¯t and could never understand. Not understanding won¡¯t hold me back. I mean to make a contract tonight and if that means offering up a few infants or burning a few cities, that¡¯s what I¡¯ll do.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Luke decided it was a good moment to walk away, unwilling to absorb any more of the man¡¯s lunacy. When they¡¯d first proposed their plan, Luke had wondered who would be the unfortunate sacrifice forced to form the contract with the drakkon. He couldn¡¯t believe his ears when he heard someone had volunteered.

    After meeting Lazarus, he assumed it was because the proud summoner was stupidly confident in his own abilities. Now, he didn¡¯t know what to think of the man except he no longer wanted to be in the same room when he began his negotiations.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-08

    Emerett re-entered the barn with Junior and Ambrose trailing behind him, the young artist carrying a small box. ¡°We brought breakfast!¡± he shouted cheerfully, obviously excited. Luke wondered if his enthusiasm would hold if he shared the lengths Lazarus was willing to go to for a contract. He kept his silence as he accepted several buns and a steaming mug.

    ¡°Where did you get this?¡± There weren¡¯t any eateries nearby.

    ¡°The old man let us borrow his kitchen,¡± Ambrose said jovially.

    ¡°I thought we were supposed to avoid attention,¡± he grumped. He¡¯d refrained from so much as taking a stroll for fear of drawing attention to the barn and they had dropped in to fix a cozy meal. Even if they never said a word to the old man, the size of the meal would have revealed their numbers. Careless.

    ¡°Fen was there,¡± Junior said dismissively.

    Ah. Not careless. With the thrall¡¯s presence, the man would only remember what they wanted him to. So, a Grimoire lurked beneath the mask of a Mason after all. At least he had the presence of mind to leave his pet outside. They would not want their guest to grow suspicious.

    Breakfast was attended leisurely, as all last meals should be, and they wasted no time getting to the event. Lazarus was given a drink to settle his nerves, Emerett refreshed the group on the basic rules of summoning Luke felt they should know better than their mothers, they found their positions, and the summoning began.

    Lazarus knelt at the edge of the circle and channeled his mana into the drawing. His wind affinity had little hue of its own, merely brightening the paint on the ground. The summoner of the last drakkon said the creature had a coefficient of around two thousand. To be safe, they decided Lazarus should bind the circle with two hundred-fifty units.

    For a man with no talent in growing his core, that was nearly everything he had. He managed but by the end, he was panting, sweating profusely, and visibly in pain. Ambrose stepped forward and helped him into a chair that had been placed for just that reason.

    While Lazarus wheezed and groaned, the space above the circle rippled. A silver rift appeared in the center of it, growing until it reached the barn¡¯s ceiling, before widening until it was wide enough for three carriages to pass through, side-by-side. There was a beat of tense silence where Luke instinctively took several steps back. Then the drakkon stepped through.

    A reptilian head large enough to swallow a horse hole with room to spare covered in scales the color of polished steel poked through, rising up on a sinuous neck. Four slightly curved horns sprouted from the corners of its brow, a black mane streaked with hairs of sky blue starting between them and going down its neck. Two dark whiskers on either side of its snout moved through the air as if buoyed by a gentle current.

    Irises as white as a cloud flicked over the summoners before settling on Lazarus. The drakkon opened its mouth, flashing two rows of jagged teeth. There was no doubt that they were meant to shred meat.

    ¡°And what manner of creature are you?¡±

    Luke flinched. They had prepared all manner of ways to communicate with the creature, starting with hoping it somehow would know Common, it was never wise to assume what an elemental knew, and ending with drawings. The last thing they¡¯d expected was whatever had just happened.

    The elemental had spoken but not through sound. It was if the world itself had conveyed the message. Luke had understood the words with his whole being rather than his ears. Such an ability impressed him more than the drakkon¡¯s size, coefficient, or any of the stories he¡¯d heard. It implied mastery on a level none of them understood.

    All his instincts said they should leave this summoning. Find another way. Unfortunately, his comrades didn¡¯t share those instincts. Certainly not the man chosen to form the contract. He was clearly still suffering from mana strain but that wasn¡¯t enough to dull his excitement as he looked at the drakkon with shining eyes.

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    ¡°I greet you, great conqueror.¡±

    The drakkon rumbled. His ears heard a warning from a predator. His being correctly interpreted the sound as a light chuckle. ¡°Not ignorant. Good. It is always tedious when I am called by happenstance. Then? You have called seeking a conqueror?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I am a man of ambition and vision but lack strength.¡±

    ¡°And it is strength I have. I am also a creature of ambition and vision. I can tell from your gate that your realm has treasures and food that might suit me but so do hundreds of realms, including my own. Why should I bind myself to such a weak creature?¡±

    ¡°What we have presented is not even a fraction of the riches our realm has to offer. My people may not seem like much but each of us has unmatched potential if nurtured.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you are ignorant of my kind. We do not nurture.¡±

    ¡°Such a menial task would be left to me of course. A conqueror such as yourself will only need to interest yourself with higher pursuits, such as defeating powerful enemies.¡±

    ¡°From your kind?¡± The drakkon¡¯s disbelief was so strong, Luke could practically taste it.

    ¡°No. Our realm is home to many different creatures. Those who can rival you in size, power, and mastery. Those who need no mastery at all, magic bending to their whims like an eager servant.¡±

    The drakkon¡¯s eyes narrowed. An intimidating gesture in most situations but it was meant to communicate pleasure. ¡°I don¡¯t taste deceit from you. Then this realm has servants, treasure, and proper opponents. Tell me. Does it have large bodies of water?¡±

    Lazarus didn¡¯t hesitate on the awkward question for even a moment. ¡°Our world is filled with great oceans whose depths have never been seen.¡±

    The drakkon rumbled in pleasure. ¡°Good. You have piqued my interest, fleshy one. Now, as for the contract. You know enough about me. Do you know what your place is?¡±

    ¡°I understand my place well, conqueror. But as I said, I am ambitious.¡±

    ¡°You should be fulfilled to work for one as great as me.¡±

    ¡°I would be. What I ask is nothing that would interest you, conqueror. Treasures only to men.¡±

    ¡°Hm. That is not enough. Loyalty must be practiced. Devotion must be proved.¡± The drakkon paused, rumbling in thought. ¡°I am not interested in your fleshy race or any kingdom you would have built. If you wish to rule the other vermin, very well, but you will rule them in my stead and turn this supposed potential to my goals. With each cycle of this world¡¯s moon, you will present a tribute to me, be it martial or precious in nature. If I do not like it, I will devour you.

    ¡°Your kingdom will also fight for me. If you don¡¯t, I will devour you. And you, my potential contractor, will make several oaths to me. You will not lie to me, to any degree. You will obey my orders fully and without delay. You will not act against me or my agendas. You will not attempt to take your own life. Understood?¡±

    Luke mentally patted himself on the shoulder. A contract was extremely dependent on inviting the right elemental to the circle. He had done exactly what they asked of him, drawing in what could be the only reasonable drakkon in the realm. Her terms, at least he hoped it was a her, were downright charitable compared to what they expected. The last summoner to contract a drakkon had been forced to worship the creature every day at the crack of dawn until it was satisfied with his efforts.

    Though he was afraid the creature was being too reasonable. He didn¡¯t blame the creature for expecting so little from them and the contract certainly favored the drakkon but he didn¡¯t like it. He had finely tuned instincts when it came to summoning and they were screaming at him that something was wrong. Particularly the question about their oceans. It was strange and unexpected. Luke could handle one of those in his summonings but never both.

    ¡°Your terms are charitable, conqueror. I do not mean to offend but I must present terms of my own.¡± Lazarus waited for the drakkon to make a sound of approval before listing them. ¡°I must be properly cared for. Harvest, the kingdom of humans, must not be destroyed. Allow me to protect and nurture them as I see fit once they have bowed to your will.¡±

    Another rumble of approval. ¡°You are aware of your station, fleshy one. Your terms are agreeable.¡±

    Luke mentally berated the creature that clearly didn¡¯t share his instincts for a bad summon. Of course they had offered the creature favorable terms. They didn¡¯t care what the drakkon asked for as, soon, the elemental would no longer have a will of its own. It had demanded that Lazarus not lie to it, undoubtedly to unearth any schemes once their contract was made, but Lazarus didn¡¯t know about any schemes. While Luke and Ambrosia worked on the circle, Lazarus submitted himself to the care of the succubi. He no longer had knowledge of the next stages of their plan.

    ¡°I am humbled, conqueror.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡ª"

    The drakkon paused. Then it quickly ducked its head back through the rift from whence it emerged, abruptly ending the negotiation.

    ¡°NO!¡± Lazarus abruptly jumped to his feet. He would have toppled over it not for the chair, one of his hands blindly finding the back and holding onto it with a white-knuckled grip. ¡°Wha¡ª"

    His words trailed off as the silver rift turned black.

    Every summoner in the room had a moment to freeze with shock as something they hadn¡¯t called emerged from the gate to their realm.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-09

    Junior wasn¡¯t in a good mood. Hadn¡¯t been in one since the death of his father but things had been especially bad since being roped into a plot by the summoners of the capital.

    The fools wanted his help to mentally subjugate a drakkon. Such a plan would have been risky even if he was exactly what he seemed. Giving that much power to one man was a terrible temptation. They had a plan to protect themselves against his rampant ambition, or so they thought. Junior didn¡¯t have much ambition recently. If he had three meals and a decent amount of sleep, he would consider it a fulfilling day.

    Unfortunately, things were not what they seemed. Nature had turned upside down and the elemental had usurped her summoner. It was not his ambition they had to contend with but Fendelheim¡¯s. A succubus¡¯ ambition was without end. No amount of plans or precautions could guard against it.

    Perhaps she could be stymied if the summoners understood the threat, but their minds couldn¡¯t comprehend it. Not even when he tried to warn them. He had almost choked on the frustration as he did his best within the bounds of what Fen would allow. He shouldn¡¯t have wasted his breath. The thrall wouldn¡¯t have allowed him to speak if she thought he had a chance in the Abyss of convincing them. But, like a fool, he¡¯d tried. It had only caused him pain. Fen enjoyed finding new ways to make him hurt.

    She hadn¡¯t bothered with her usual games today. Her attention was wholly occupied with the summoning and the drakkon that she would soon work to bring under her control. Despite waiting outside, he could feel her excitement as if she was standing right beside him, trailing her fingers along the back of his neck.

    She wanted him to know. To feel his helplessness with every passing second. The moment she gained sway over the drakkon, the Harvest kingdom was doomed. He was the only one who knew but could do nothing to stop it. And sadly, he was beyond trying. His nonsensical ramblings at their latest meeting was his final effort. After, Junior surrendered himself to apathy.

    A state of mind that continued even as he stood near the back of the room while the drakkon partially entered their realm. It persisted throughout the negotiation, that went almost disturbingly well given the elemental¡¯s strange way of communication and the accuracy of Luke¡¯s circle. He might be a wrung-out washcloth compared to his daughter, but the Tome man knew his summoning. Success seemed inevitable, something that filled the others with excitement, but Junior felt nothing. Nothing at all.

    Until the drakkon suddenly lifted its head. Something about the gesture struck him as odd. A feeling that was vindicated when the drakkon suddenly retreated. Lazarus bellowed in outrage, seeing his future slip away, but Junior almost drowned in his relief. He closed his eyes as a deep sigh sagged his shoulders. Maybe the saints really were watching over them.

    {DOWN!}

    The mental order was so powerful and Junior¡¯s mind so vulnerable to Fen¡¯s power that he couldn¡¯t think before obeying. His body dropped to the ground. And not a moment too soon. Something passed over his head, so close it shaved off a few hairs. A fraction of a second after he hit the ground, the barn exploded around him. A warm body covered him as debris rained down around him.

    Instinct told him to run from the danger but strong hands held him down.

    {Don¡¯t move.} Fen whispered in his mind. {Don¡¯t breathe. Still your heart. It will notice us.}

    Again, his body obeyed before his mind comprehended. Despite the dangerous and confusing situation, his body calmed despite his racing mind. Fen forced him to remain prone for several tense moments before sitting up. He turned his head as he heard debris sliding off her. ¡°Wha¡ª"

    ¡°Shut up,¡± she hissed, speaking aloud as her eyes darted over the devastation around them. A setting sun shined down on mounds of broken wood. Fen was a vision even in a panicked state as she moved through the destruction, tail curling and twisting as opposed to its usual careless sway.

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    She came to a sudden stop and pounced on a pile of debris like it had insulted her mother, her arms a furious whirlwind as she threw debris in every direction. Then she froze. Not so much as a hair twitched as she looked down at something. Panic broke through Junior¡¯s confusion as he had never seen the succubus act in such a way. Trying to discern a succubus¡¯ mood from her expression was foolish, as they were masters of manipulation, but he had spent enough time around her true self to get a feel for her. He could tell that something had disturbed her. Greatly.

    As Junior pushed to his feet, Fen reached into the gap in the debris and removed something. He had to get much closer before he recognized it as a head. The head of Luke Tome, his wide eyes and slightly parted lips showing surprise rather than the pain of death.

    Terrible pains gripped the young summoner¡¯s stomach. Lou¡¯s father was dead. Fen wasn¡¯t digging the rest of him out so she had no confidence in healing him. If he had been shredded like the rest of the barn, restoring him was beyond even the creature¡¯s abilities. Perhaps the brood festering in his family¡¯s estate could make a difference as a group but only Fen had accompanied him to avoid rousing Emerett¡¯s suspicions. The man was uncommonly perceptive and Ambrose had that cat of his. Fen hadn¡¯t wanted to take chances. A decision she no doubt regretted.

    ¡°That¡¯s Lou father.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Junior,¡± the thrall said in a voice devoid of any inflection. It was completely inhuman and the greatest sign of her discomfort. He knew things were bad when the creature dropped its mask.

    ¡°She¡¯s¡­¡± Junior was about to say she was going to be pissed but he wasn¡¯t sure. He had never known the Tome family to be close. Would she be angry? It wasn¡¯t as if they had let this happen. Junior didn¡¯t even know what had caused the destruction, let alone what could have stopped it. As for her father¡¯s death, he gave it even odds whether Lou shed a tear.

    ¡°And that is why you¡¯re a fool, Junior,¡± Fen said, reading his thoughts. Gingerly, she straightened, waving for him to follow as she stepped out of the carnage. They headed for the house, where they¡¯d parked their carriage. The old man who owned the property threw open the door to his home and jerkily came down his steps, stomping toward them while waving a walking stick. ¡°Lou may not be close to her father, but he was all she had for a long time. She will be furious. With you as well as me.¡±

    ¡°But there was nothing we could do!¡±

    ¡°Do you think that will matter? All she will see is that he is dead and we are alive. She can and likely will order me to tell her the whole truth of what¡¯s happened, but I don¡¯t expect that to dull her temper a bit.¡±

    Junior paled as he imagined what could happen to him. Since his father died, his inadequacies had been drilled into him daily. He was under no illusion that he was needed by either Lou or the succubi that appeared to worship her. As his father¡¯s son, he was simply the most convenient figurehead.

    Beyond that, he had few skills and fewer connections. Lou didn¡¯t even like him. He¡¯d been her tormentor for most of her life. All it took was one bad day for her to decide she was done with the farce that was his current life and his head would mirror her father¡¯s. That bad day had almost arrived.

    ¡°What are you going to do? If she gets rid of me, you¡¯re gone too.¡± He just managed to keep the desperation from his voice and stop himself from begging her to save them both.

    ¡°Do? What is there to do? I can¡¯t bring her father back. I can¡¯t dull the pain. The only thing to do is throw ourselves at her feet and beg for mercy.¡±

    If their lives depended on Lou being merciful to a previous Grimoire, he thought they should save everyone some trouble and bury themselves.

    ¡°You! You two!¡± The old man had finally gotten close enough to yell at them. ¡°Blasted abyss-whispering imbeciles! What did you do to my barn?! I let you rat-catchers skulk around there because you¡ª"

    Fen backhanded the old man hard enough to snap his neck without breaking her stride or deigning to look at him. Junior stared in horror as the lifeless body crumpled to the ground, a life extinguished as an afterthought. Then he jogged to catch up with her quick pace, unwilling to be the next one punished. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he hissed.

    ¡°There is a tragedy a few paces away. I doubt whoever comes upon the wreckage will be surprised by one more body. More importantly, I don¡¯t feel like playing pointless games on what is likely the eve of my death.¡±

    Although he hated his next thought, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from speaking it. ¡°Why don¡¯t you kill me? Without me to bind you to this realm, you would be sent home. Where she couldn¡¯t reach you.¡±

    ¡°I can think of several ways for her to reach me but that isn¡¯t important. If I escape, she will direct her anger to others. That cannot be allowed.¡±

    They reached the carriage and Fen yanked open the door. Junior hastily climbed in, grimacing as the thrall passed him Luke Tome¡¯s severed head. ¡°Will you at least tell me what did this?¡±

    ¡°Later.¡± He was forced to turn away as she transformed, her exotic form becoming a plain woman with creamy skin and blond hair that could be found anywhere in the capital. After the king¡¯s ban against succubi, they had to be much more careful with her appearance. ¡°Be quiet and behave, Junior. I need to think.¡±

 Miniarc-Overreaching-10

    To say that the ride back to the city was uncomfortable would be a gross understatement. Junior had gone through much since the death of his father, but he could say, without a doubt, that riding in a dark carriage holding the head of Luke Tome while he contemplated his impending death was undoubtedly the worse event of his life.

    What unsettled him was the suddenness of it. No matter what indignity Fen subjected him to, he expected it. His torment was as certain as the rising sun. His death, the very opposite.

    His life connected Fen to his realm. The succubi had plans for his world. No matter what, they would protect the lives of their summoners. He might not keep all his limbs, he might live worse than a dog, he might even be driven insane, but Junior never doubted he would live a very long life. Even if he wanted to die, Fen would never allow it.

    Now, she was certain they would both die. Worse, she wasn¡¯t fighting it, which went against everything he knew of the creature. Succubi were as arrogant as they were capable. Before today, he couldn¡¯t imagine Fen backing down from a challenge. No matter the problem, an immortal life and a keen mind could wear it down to something manageable. Leashing a drakkon? Impregnating it to build an army of the creatures? Sheer madness but Fen had leaped at the challenge with a smile.

    Yet, an angry Lou, Lou for saints¡¯ sake, had her stymied. He knew his old rival was more formidable these days, but Fen controlled over a dozen succubi that had spread their influence throughout the capital. She kept him from knowing anything important, but he would have to be blind not to notice the massive amount of wealth his thrall moved through the estate, more recently out of the capital. She should have more than enough resources to take on one summoner. Even if she didn¡¯t want to kill Lou, she should be able to wrap the young woman around her finger.

    He was confused that she seemed reluctant to try. It said he was missing crucial information. Something he¡¯d grown accustomed to, but it was much harder to accept with his life on the line.

    The carriage came to a stop and a moment later, Fen threw open the door. She waved impatiently for him to hop out and led the way into the estate. The normally busy halls were empty, the other succubi and staff having evacuated. Junior quietly followed her to the study, a room that he should have made his own as the patriarch of the family. It hadn¡¯t changed a bit from the last day his father sat behind the large desk, but his mind already considered it Fen¡¯s space.

    In the doorway, she carefully took Luke Tome¡¯s head, gently setting it on the middle of the desk as she took a seat. Junior grimaced as he noticed the small bloodstains on the sleeves of his shirt, but he put his disgust aside. ¡°Are you ready to talk now?¡±

    ¡°Watch your tone,¡± she said sternly, never looking up from the head.

    ¡°Does it matter? We¡¯re apparently going to die soon.¡±

    She finally looked up. Her human visage did nothing to soften the alien indifference behind her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll punish you for that later. For now, you should at least understand why you¡¯re going to die.¡±

    Junior grit his teeth but held his silence.

    ¡°When summoning is spread to new worlds, it¡¯s common practice not to share the dangers. Every sentient being is eager to have an unquestionably loyal servant of immense power and beauty to do their bidding. No one wants to hear about the creatures that incapacitate their summoners, turn their minds inside out, or devour them one finger at a time. They certainly don¡¯t tell summoners that every time they power a circle, they risk death.¡±

    The hair on Junior¡¯s neck stood on end. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s amusing to me that you berated your fellow summoners for their inability to think beyond their own experience when you possess of the same fault. The circle invites the Guardian of Dimensions to open a rift in space. A door. While you intend for a particular being to walk through it, an open door is open to any who can find it.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­something else came through the door?¡±

    ¡°Something indeed.¡± The succubus sighed. ¡°There is so much you don¡¯t know, little boy. You can¡¯t imagine the creatures throughout the realms but even if you traveled a thousand worlds over a hundred lifetimes, it wouldn¡¯t be enough to understand the things that live between realms. I speak from experience.¡±

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    A finger tapped the side of her head. ¡°Have you ever wondered why every succubi is so competent? Those of the same faction share memories. The higher our circle, the more of our collective knowledge we have access to. I am merely circle three but that still means knowledge of countless worlds gathered over a length of time that would break your feeble mind.

    ¡°This is normally privileged information but I¡¯m sharing it so you understand the weight of my words. Despite the collective experience of every succubus in my faction, enough knowledge to drown every human mind in this kingdom, we do not know what these things are. We do not know what they look like, what they sound like, or what they want. If they can speak, they¡¯ve never chosen to do so. We have tried to connect with their minds and there is only one thought to be found. Hunger.

    ¡°That¡¯s what motivates them. Pure hunger. They go by several names but the simplest translation to Common is lurkers, for that is exactly what they do. They swim through the void between realms, hungering for that which doesn¡¯t exist in the immaterial. Some unsuspecting summoner or arrogant null caster opens a tear in space and they smell the life they hunger for, drawing them. If the caster is lucky, they¡¯ll complete their business before the lurker can reach them and the creature moves on. If they aren¡¯t, it steps through the door. Some are actually smart enough to put down protections on their door but lurkers are the only creature that can go through any barrier. Nothing can stop them.

    ¡°Thankfully, for the grace of the Guardian, they cannot stay on any realm for long. It is especially strict with them. They have but a moment before they are pulled back to the void but a moment is all they need. You saw the devastation it unleashed. If it stays true to pattern, it would have taken at least one of the summoners for a snack as well.¡±

    ¡°Saints.¡± The information was world-shattering. Summoning had survived because it was seen as a consequence-free path to power for the magically stunted. A contract was needed to bind an elemental, but unfavorable terms could always be rejected. A properly powered circle couldn¡¯t be crossed, no matter how strong the visitor. Summoning was meant to be safe.

    If it was known that every summoning risked inviting some Abyss spawn, the art would be purged from the kingdom with a vengeance. Perhaps by the summoners.

    ¡°Lurkers are incredibly strong. So strong nothing that stands against them survives. Nothing. You are lucky that there were other targets to take its attention or you wouldn¡¯t have survived. Your master casters wouldn¡¯t have survived. The drakkon wouldn¡¯t have survived. I almost dare to say the dragons of your world wouldn¡¯t have survived.¡±

    ¡°Surely you¡¯re exaggerating,¡± Junior replied instinctively.

    ¡°No, boy, I¡¯m not. I said they can cross any barrier. That¡¯s because their strength is unmatched and no magic can stop them. Worse, contact with them saps¡­what I can only describe as the life out of creatures. Wounds they inflict can¡¯t be healed.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you didn¡¯t try to heal him¡­¡± Junior¡¯s gaze moved to the head on the desk, his stomach roiling as he looked into the wide eyes.

    ¡°Mm. Even if every succubus on Burning Earth used every drop of mana they have, it wouldn¡¯t have made a difference. Those things are unnatural.¡± Fen stared at him. ¡°I¡¯m telling you this so you know there is nothing I could have done to prevent what happened. The moment I felt its immense hunger, I warned everyone in the room but all except your mind naturally resisted the command. When Lou undoubtedly asks, I can truthfully say I did all I could and no amount of preparations would have given a different result. And it will not matter.¡±

    ¡°Why not? Lou isn¡¯t unreasonable.¡± She could have done much worse to him but had opted to use him instead and she had many more reasons to hate him as opposed to Fen.

    Fen chuckled. ¡°Reason? Her father has just been taken from her. Where does reason come into this? You¡¯re a fool if you think rationality will stay her hand. Unlike your predecessors, she isn¡¯t ignoring our true nature. No matter what I tell her, she will always wonder if her father¡¯s death was a part of some plot. She¡¯ll resent me and every other succubus because of it. If we¡¯re lucky, she¡¯ll kill me. That is acceptable. What is unacceptable is that she pushes us away.¡±

    ¡°You¡­why are all of you so obsessed with her? Saints¡¯ blessed asses, she¡¯s just one woman,¡± he snapped, a long-held frustration finally slipping out.

    The thrall only sneered at him, the way someone might look at a diseased rat dying in their foyer. ¡°Lou is Lou and that is all she needs to be. Do not think of things that do not concern you.¡±

    ¡°Then, please. What does concern me? Perhaps a plan to save both our lives? I would rather not die.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I refuse to take any action that could make the situation worse but¡­perhaps we can mitigate the consequences. If her anger is divided¡­¡± The thrall nodded to herself. ¡°Yes. We simply have to make her angrier at someone else than she will be at us.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°Anyone! The crown. The nobles. The peasants. Stray dogs and cats, goblins, trolls, dragons, the fucking clouds, anything!¡± Fen jumped to her feet. ¡°Yes. This can work. It may not save our lives but¡­¡± She stepped around the desk and grabbed Junior¡¯s shoulder. He winced at the tight grip. ¡°You are going to be very busy, Junior.¡±

 Miniarc-Overreaching-11

    Three days had passed without contact.

    Jackal didn¡¯t think of himself as a man prone to panic. Rather, he thought of himself as a patient man. He needed to be. Otherwise, he would have been driven mad growing up under the harassment of the Grimoires. He could take any insult with a smile. Could take a beating and get back to work without bothering to wipe away the blood. All because he believed that if he endured long enough and tried hard enough, it would be worth something. He would be worth something. The Tomes would be worth something.

    Finally, it seemed his patience was paying off. The summoners had a plan to take back their esteem and he would be at the head of it. The name the independent summoners united around. The man with the king¡¯s ear. At least for a while. Maybe. If everything went according to plan, which it certainly wasn¡¯t.

    Three days ago, the last of the group meant to handle the summoning had left the capital. Securing a contract, especially with powerful elementals, wasn¡¯t an easy task but it shouldn¡¯t have taken so long. Not with Luke present.

    For all his younger brother¡¯s many faults, he was an exceptional and experienced summoner. Jackal wouldn¡¯t go as far as to say their success was guaranteed but it certainly wasn¡¯t in doubt. More importantly, if something had gone wrong, he should have gotten a message. Reassurances, if not further instructions.

    There was no communication and no sighting of the five men. Also, no sighting of the drakkon. That was the worst part. Without any word, Jackal spent every second of the day waiting for a calamity to come from the sky.

    The first day, he¡¯d been filled with nervous energy, alert and ready to capitalize on the situation at any moment. The second day, the excitement was polluted by anxiety as his focus waned. Now, on the third day, having gotten very little sleep over two nights and eating two bites of every meal, his anxiety had smothered the last of his excitement.

    A small, insecure part of him that he went to great lengths to bury whispered that the others had abandoned the plan. That the drakkon had made them an offer they couldn¡¯t refuse or, more likely, conned the fools and taken them away. Leaving him alone in an empty estate twiddling his thumbs.

    He had plenty of doubts but the biggest was what to do about them. He could ride out to the derelict farm, but they had good reason to be so careful about their movements. The Tomes were a notable summoning family. After the awesome collapse of the Grimoires, perhaps the most notable. It wouldn¡¯t be strange if agents of the crown had eyes on him.

    They could also have agents investigating the independent summoners. Jackal was meant to present himself as an opposing force to the radicals. If he was spotted going to the place where the summoning was taking place, it would ruin their whole strategy. Not a risk worth taking when he could walk into their negotiations only to be kicked back out.

    He could flee the capital. His instincts told him something was wrong. Very wrong. A cautious man would leave the city with haste and not look back. He had yet to do anything wrong so there was no reason for anyone to come after him. His absence would give the summoners pause but he was easily replaced.

    When they first discussed the plan, Jackal had eyed Emerett warily, waiting for the man to take the chance to elevate the independent summoners. He would be just as good, if not a better, figure to unite around. After all, the Tomes¡¯ reputation had been thoroughly ruined by the Grimoires. They were hardly a respectable family.

    He¡¯d been pleasantly surprised when Emerett had been the first to suggest he take the role of the reasonable summoner the crown could rely on to reign over the others. He immediately wondered what the man could gain from it. On the surface, it looked like nothing, and Jackal didn¡¯t care to look deeper.

    Emerett struck him as the passionate type willing to die for what he believed in. That happened to be summoning. Surrendering a bit of prestige didn¡¯t register as a sacrifice in his idealistic mind. And if he did have secret plans, Jackal felt he would have a better chance fending them off with the king¡¯s trust.

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    Now, with things veering off plan, he couldn¡¯t be sure it wasn¡¯t Emerett springing some trap. The best way to avoid it was to get out of the way by getting out of the capital.

    The only problem was that Jackal was loathed to relinquish the little prestige he did have. He spent all his life as a nobody. Was willing to risk everything to be anybody. He could accept death. He could accept embarrassment. What he couldn¡¯t accept was disappearing to the ass end of the kingdom where he was no better than farmers and stable hands.

    There was also a third option. Improvise. With or without a drakkon, he had valuable information. Simply informing the king about the possible consequences of his bans should be enough to make him wary of the summoners and appreciate the willingness of someone ready to unite them against rash action. It wouldn¡¯t even be a betrayal, as it was the original plan. He would only be showing a little initiative.

    The door to his study being thrown open jolted him from his thoughts. Jackal looked up with no small amount of surprise as Fen strutted into the room, followed by her pet, Gordon Mason. A delicious turn of circumstances that they were usually discrete about but the thrall, looking more human than usual, didn¡¯t appear to be interested in their usual games.

    Jackal hoped every Grimoire patriarch, down to the first upstart that had changed his name and ground the Tomes into the dirt with their own benevolence, was rolling in their graves. He normally couldn¡¯t stand the sight of a succubus but her treachery against her summoner meant Jackal was willing to forgive Fen the sins of her race.

    That didn¡¯t keep him from frowning at the rude entrance. ¡°It¡¯s about damn time! Could you people not be bothered to send a message¡ª"

    ¡°Quiet.¡±

    Despite being from a famed family of summoners, Jackal did not have a contracted elemental. He wasn¡¯t interested in the elementals that would be interested in someone of his mediocre abilities and didn¡¯t have the patience for the intensive research needed to form a contract with something worth his time.

    He could have taken the road of the traditional caster. Had, for a time. Splitting his time between study and political maneuvering proved too much. Magic was not a discipline one tackled with half of one¡¯s focus. He had to choose one. Having no talent or need for magic, he gave it up without a care.

    Rarely did he have chance to regret his decision. Few parties cared enough to threaten a noble with few connections and less money. However, he couldn¡¯t help a touch of bitterness as Fen¡¯s mental compulsion forced his mouth shut with a click.

    The mental affinity largely worked on mana intrusion. The more mana a caster had, the greater their natural defense against intrusion of any kind. That meant someone who neglected their core like Jackal had pitiful defenses. There was of course the artifacts Emerett had provided when they first approached Junior to ask for his cooperation but they were collected afterwards. Understandable for such expensive assets. His understanding didn¡¯t alleviate Jackal¡¯s anger as he realized how vulnerable he was.

    ¡°I apologize for my abruptness, Javarius, but this is not the time for your usual bluster and performance. We bring grave news. Something went wrong with the summoning. Your brother is dead. I do not know what has happened to the others, but I assume the worst. Our plan has fallen apart and so the only thing left is to disappear. The Mason family has removed all its assets from the capital. I suggest you do the same with all haste.¡±

    As Fen turned to leave the room, the compulsion keeping Jackal silent abated. ¡°Wait!¡± he shouted, jumping to his feet. They didn¡¯t and he was forced to run after them. ¡°Wait a minute!¡± He reached out for Junior¡¯s shoulder, but his hand was shrugged off. ¡°What do you mean? I need details! What happened? What do you mean my brother is dead?¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t here to hold your hand,¡± the thrall said mercilessly. ¡°You have all the pertinent information. Your future is your own now, Javarius Tome. Make of it what you will but we no longer have anything to do with you.¡±

    Realizing it was fruitless to stop them, and getting tired following their quick pace, Jackal stopped, panting heavily as he leaned against a wall. His mind raced as his guests disappeared around a corner. The summoning had failed. His allies were gone, presumed dead. The Masons had backed out of the alliance. He had no sway with independent summoners.

    Luke was gone.

    He pushed aside the tangled swell of emotions that thought caused. There was no time to grieve or even process it. He had to make a decision about his future. Relying on their cabal was no longer possible. That left improvising or running.

    Jackal closed his eyes in thought for several moments.

    Then he hurried toward his bedroom to change clothes. He couldn¡¯t be seen in the palace in the same rags he wore to lounge around in his home.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-12

    ¡°Good work today, Jac.¡±

    ¡°Good work!¡± the young woman called back as she walked out of the store with a smile. At first, she¡¯d hated the nickname, thinking it was too masculine for an aspiring woman of the court. Amongst nobility, appearances accounted for everything. Men could supplement a ghastly demeanor with enough merits, but that option didn¡¯t exist for women.

    Oh, they could certainly achieve as much as any man, but tradition meant their achievements meant less. A noblewoman¡¯s value was strictly tied to her beauty, her poise, her eloquence, and the talent of the heirs she birthed.

    However, her aspirations had changed. She no longer cared to marry a powerful man who would recognize her talents and support her in her pursuit of political power. She wanted a land, and a crown, of her own. To get it, she¡¯d have to travel across the sea with rakish adventurers and brawny sailors. A Jac fit in well amongst them. Before that, she was a simple employee, where Jac fit in even better. Though she was loathe to admit it, her full name was a mouthful, as her cousin had told her many times.

    Jacquellin Tome stopped on the street and stretched, sighing as her spine popped. Today had been busier than usual and she¡¯d made a few extra trips to the stock room to line the empty shelves. She loved the Guiness Company¡¯s business model of carrying a little bit of everything, but it meant replenishing their stock twice or more a day rather than once every couple days like most stores.

    As the rookie, the grunt work fell to her, including sweeping floors and wiping windows. Not to mention helping customers. If she was lucky, or very unlucky depending on the day, she also organized receipts. It was grueling work but infinitely preferable to sitting in her father¡¯s house, handling her family¡¯s finances and getting nowhere.

    Normally, she enjoyed a little company after her shift. She went out with her fellow employees, the women that she lived with in the house owned by the Company, her manager, or the men she felt free to associate with now that she didn¡¯t have to protect her reputation. Attending banquets since childhood had made her a social animal and she liked to keep her calendar full. For practical reasons as well as pleasurable ones.

    If she wanted to organize an expedition to the ancestral lands of her family, she would need connections as well as exorbitant amounts of money. Seeds sown today could sprout in unpredictable ways ten years down the line.

    That night she planned a rare bout of solitude. With the recent trouble surrounding summoners, things had been tense in the capital. Especially at home. Her father had spoken to her briefly about the summoners organizing and concocting some scheme, but she hadn¡¯t stayed long enough to hear the details.

    Solving one¡¯s problems with elementals never worked. They had dozens of records written by those who had tried and failed in both expected and spectacular ways. Somehow, whenever a summoner got in a tough spot, they forgot history and their good sense.

    Jac wanted no part of it. Thankfully, neither did Matty. She was surprised her uncle had gotten roped in. If he wanted to make moves, either political or financial, he had his daughter to rely on. She had no doubt that Lou had far more power than a bunch of amateurs and if anyone could get her to act on their behalf, besides any sufficiently beautiful woman, it was her father. Seeing as she had control of the Masons, she could throw the capital into disarray with a few words. Yet they felt the need to be reckless.

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    She knew why. They wanted power for themselves. That was her father¡¯s greatest wish, having his own power. To ride down the street and have those on the road make way for him. To walk into any party without an invitation and be thanked for the intrusion. To have women of status forget themselves in his presence and fawn over him like whores spotting a man covered in gold.

    Lou might, might, have helped but she¡¯d never share the glory. Rather, she¡¯d rub their faces in it, laugh at their helplessness, and then leave them to run the show after making sure they knew who owned it. Her father would never accept such an insult. He¡¯d truly rather commit treason. Reckless treason, at that.

    It was embarrassing. Especially considering they had time to plan a proper response. The Masons were the only significant party harmed by the bans and the crown¡¯s enmity toward summoners ended with them. The Tomes weren¡¯t in the line of fire until her father threw them into it.

    Jac tried not to waste much time thinking about the ridiculous situation. Instead, she turned her attention to where she would eat dinner. The restaurants in the poorer districts of the city had more in the way of choice, peasants forced to get creative with a deficit of decent ingredients, but more expensive places had better atmosphere. A cheap place meant cheap people she could be a little slovenly around while upper-class places meant upper-class manners along with more stimulating conversationalists.

    Or she could go for something in-between. A quick dinner at a street stall before grabbing a bottle of wine and taking it with her for a late-night show. Winter was the season for finer things. With the harvests in and the weather cold enough to make people loathe to leave the comfort of a warm building, there were plenty of shows happening throughout the week. Plays, dances, and musical performances aplenty. She¡¯d have no trouble finding entertainment for the night.

    ¡°Miss Jacquelline Tome?¡±

    A deep voice interrupted her pleasant thoughts. Jac pulled her coat tighter about her as she turned around. Her suspicions eased as she took in the two guards approaching her. ¡°Yes? Is there something I can help you with?¡±

    ¡°We need you to come with us,¡± the guard in the lead said solemnly. She didn¡¯t like the look on his face. It was far too serious. The guards of the capital didn¡¯t take their jobs seriously. Nothing had threatened Summer Spire in generations. They were decorations and errand boys, at best.

    The man in front of her didn¡¯t look like he had approached her on an errand. He looked like a man with purpose. So did the younger man beside him. Anything that could give a group composed of lazy third sons and peasants that couldn¡¯t measure up to the low standards of the royal army purpose was a serious matter indeed.

    ¡°And what is this about?¡±

    ¡°That will be explained later. Please come with us.¡±

    Jac sneered. ¡°Are you attempting to detain me, sir? Because that is far beyond the powers of a mere guard.¡±

    The guard sighed. ¡°By order of the king, we are to escort you to the castle. Please comply.¡±

    The king? Jac immediately cursed her father, assuming something had gone wrong with his scheme. If his family was being brought in, then things had gone very wrong.

    The last thing she should do was go along quietly. She wasn¡¯t much in the eyes of the Company yet, but she was their employee. The marquis would at least be interested if a traitor was connected to his company. Normally, that would mean identifying the person and cutting them loose, but she was counting on his interest in Lou and her wife. She hoped that would motivate him to at least keep her from disappearing into a dungeon, never to be heard from again without a trial.

    ¡°Allow me to¡ª"

    Jac froze. She had taken one step toward the store and the guards had reached for their blades.

    ¡°I need you to come with us now.¡±

    ¡°¡­very well.¡± She held up her palms. After a few moments to be sure it wasn¡¯t a trick, the older guard nodded for his partner to go forward. Jac had to grit her teeth to hold back a curse and a wince as the younger man roughly wrenched her arms behind her back and marched her down the street.

    It was embarrassing and the first time Jac was glad for the light sheet of snow on the ground. It meant there were no eyes to witness her shameful handling. If they weren¡¯t the cause for her predicament, she would have thanked them for shoving her into a plain carriage. As it was, she was committing their faces to memory.

    Like her cousin, Jac could be a petty woman and she always paid back a grudge.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-13

    Jac had no idea where the guards were taking her. Her escorts hadn¡¯t responded when she asked about their destination and the windows were covered by thick cloth. A part of her worried that the men had taken her for nefarious purposes, but she suppressed the small worry. As insignificant as her family was, a noblewoman being snatched off the street would draw far too much attention for small-time crooks to bother.

    The only reason she considered it at all was because she couldn¡¯t think of an official reason for her treatment. Her first thought was to suspect her father and his shenanigans, but he wasn¡¯t a stupid man. More importantly, he had spent a lifetime dodging serious consequences. She couldn¡¯t imagine him suddenly growing reckless in his old age just to prove a point to a king that was going after her family¡¯s oldest enemies.

    The carriage came to a stop relatively quickly. Too soon to have left the city, alleviating most of Jac¡¯s worries. She didn¡¯t disembark immediately, growing more and more impatient as she waited in silence inside the carriage. Eventually, they started moving again, at a much slower pace. One that suggested moving through an estate. Her journey was coming to an end and she couldn¡¯t wait to see who was responsible for it.

    The door opened. Instead of the guards who had abducted her, royal knights opened the door. Jac barely managed to control her reaction as she took in the gleaming golden armor of the most powerful knight order in the capital, arguably in the kingdom.

    ¡°Get out.¡±

    This time, she didn¡¯t think of doing anything but immediately obeying. The presence of royal knights suggested it strongly but her own eyes had to confirm that she was indeed within the walls of the Summer Palace before she believed it. There was a time she would have done anything to ride through its golden gates and mingle with the royal family. Now, the looming spires filled her with nothing but dread.

    ¡°Walk.¡±

    One of the guards stepped in front of her while the other walked at her back. Like that, they entered the palace, moving through the long, narrow halls at a quick pace. Jac had been raised to appreciate high society but her worries meant she couldn¡¯t bring herself to appreciate any of the wealth on display. Fine paintings and colorful tapestries blended in with the gray stone of the building as she kept her head bowed.

    One thing she did appreciate was how warm it was. It was almost too warm, but Jac didn¡¯t dare slow long enough to shrug off her jacket.

    Her escorts led her to a small sitting room and her worries immediately disappeared when she noticed her brother, Matthias Tome, seated in one of the plush chairs. ¡°Matty!¡± she called, hurrying forward. She paused for a moment when she heard the door close behind her but dismissed the fear it induced with a shake of her head. The exit being shut off made no difference. There was no escaping the palace if they wanted her here. Rather than escaping, she needed to focus on navigating the situation.

    She continued her path to her brother, wrapping her arms around him when he stood. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you, though I wish it was under better circumstances.¡±

    He nodded and gestured for her to take the seat beside his own. Jac shrugged off her jacket as he crossed the room to a small table with a drinks tray arranged atop it. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said as he took the glass he offered her, turning to him as he reclaimed his seat. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you know what this is about?¡±

    Her brother shook his head and sipped his now full glass. She wondered how much he¡¯d had already. Matty had never been much of a drinker and only indulged when forced to by social obligation or incredibly stressed.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    She followed him, grimacing at the taste. It was incredibly smooth and the heat warming her stomach felt good, but it felt like she¡¯d just chewed on a mouthful of wet earth mixed with mushrooms. It was disgusting¡­until it wasn¡¯t. She smacked her lips as she tried to puzzle out the aftertaste. Then she took another sip.

    ¡°Father.¡±

    Jac turned to her brother, but he was still looking at his cup. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought too. Do you think he¡¯s gotten into some trouble with his new friends?¡±

    Summoning was a dangerous art. There were creatures beyond their world that would give men nightmares. Things that could wipe out the whole kingdom. Like Aggro, if the elemental ever desired more than its small territory. Worse, it didn¡¯t take immense skill to invite a catastrophe. The only thing that kept the world from being a playground for insanely powerful elementals was the discretion of summoners.

    ¡°Hard to imagine. Uncle is with him.¡±

    While Jac could imagine her father being swayed to irrational action by ambition, Luke Tome was a much more sensible man. He would never allow them to take risks with a summoning. His presence was the reason Jac had walked away from her father¡¯s scheming with peace of mind.

    If she wanted to be unkind, she would say her uncle was a coward. Like a weasel, if he sensed something going wrong, he would be the first to scurry back to his burrow.

    ¡°I agree but Uncle only knows how to put his foot down when it comes to summoning. He wouldn¡¯t be able to talk sense to Father when it comes to what to do afterwards. What if¡­what if they put us in this room together to listen in on our conversation!¡± Jac threw back the rest of her drink with a scowl. ¡°If anyone¡¯s listening, we don¡¯t know anything!¡± she yelled at the walls. They didn¡¯t respond. Grumbling to herself, she went to pour herself a refill.

    ¡°There are few things that would have us forcefully escorted to the palace,¡± Matty continued as she retook her seat.

    Jac nodded in agreement. ¡°I can think of three off the top of my head.¡± She raised a finger. ¡°The first would be if we were suspected of something that threatened the capital. But if that was the case we would have been escorted to the dungeon, not a pleasant room with drinks and cushy seats.¡±

    Her brother hummed in agreement. ¡°The second is if we were being commended.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything worth being congratulated by the king recently. You?¡±

    ¡°My team did good work remodeling several homes in the lower ring.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the peasants are grateful but¡ª"

    ¡°Hardly something the king would be interested in.¡±

    ¡°So we aren¡¯t about to be presented with shiny daggers or banners for our service to the kingdom. That only leaves the third option.¡±

    ¡°An audience,¡± her brother finished for her. ¡°Why would the king want to talk to us?¡±

    ¡°It has to be about summoning. We¡¯re Tomes, it¡¯s all we¡¯re known for. Maybe it¡¯s about these bans of his. He could be preparing for another round and wants the input of summoners this time.¡±

    Matty shook his head. ¡°The bans were not against summoners but against the Grimoires.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the Masons now, remember? Besides, it might have started with them but the crowned pissed off the whole community. A united community, according to Father. It¡¯s not hard to imagine them working together to ruin the king¡¯s day.¡±

    She took a long swig of her drink, liking her theory more and more. ¡°This kingdom has no idea how to handle summoners. How to manage them, how to track them, saints, even how to fight them. Elementals are very different from monsters. For one thing, they¡¯re intelligent. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they need help.¡±

    ¡°Why us? We know nothing about summoning.¡±

    Jac winced at his words. She had never put much stock in her family¡¯s tradition. Gold and influence were much more useful than an elemental that would plot her demise every day it served her. ¡°If it is help the crown needs, they should address Father. Or better, Uncle.¡±

    ¡°Both arrogant old men. I can imagine them refusing, especially Father. The younger generations tend to be more flexible. More¡­ hungry.¡± For opportunities and approval. Jac couldn¡¯t imagine many of her peers refusing the king anything if it meant he knew their name.

    ¡°I don¡¯t disagree. Then, will you agree?¡±

    ¡°I guess? As long as it¡¯s nothing too bad.¡± She could certainly use the crowns. Jac was feeling better about her sudden arrest and had a good feeling about the rest of the day. Or maybe she needed to slow down her drinking. Whatever it was, it was strong.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-14

    They continued to theorize about their sudden arrest and exchanged small talk about their lives until the door opened. Jac turned, jaw dropping in surprise. Of all the people she expected to walk through the doorway, her father, wearing a smug grin and an expensive jacket, wouldn¡¯t have been in her top five choices.

    Her anger spiked as she watched him swagger into the room without a care. It wasn¡¯t the face of a man who had considered for a moment the inconvenience he might have caused having his children snatched off the street by armed guards like criminals.

    ¡°Jacquelline. Matthias.¡± He called their names with false concern, belatedly arranging his features into an appropriate expression. He had the bad habit of getting sloppy when he thought he had won.

    ¡°Father,¡± Jac replied in a cool tone. Her brother didn¡¯t bother responding, dipping his head in placid greeting before turning his attention back to his drink. ¡°What are we doing here?¡± Normally, she¡¯d have more tact than to jump right into her questions but she wasn¡¯t in the mood for their usual games. Hadn¡¯t been since she realized there was more to life than speaking in code and reading between the lines.

    Jackal¡¯s lips twitched as he suppressed a frown. ¡°I¡¯m sure this has been a trying day, but I have good reasons, my children.¡± He flashed a smile at the royal knights that escorted him. ¡°Thank you, gentlemen. Would you please step outside? This is a conversation best held in private.¡±

    Jac didn¡¯t miss the way the two hesitated for a breath, but they acquiesced, stepping from the room and closing it behind them. Jackal¡¯s mask departed with them. Her father¡¯ frowned as he looked them over with a discerning eye. ¡°I hope the two of you have been minding yourselves.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Father. We¡¯re still housebroken. I managed not to claw up the furniture and persuaded Matty not to piss in any corners.¡± She smiled as her brother chuckled softly.

    Her father didn¡¯t appreciate the joke, his frown deepening. ¡°Your new sense of humor isn¡¯t endearing, daughter. Perhaps you spent too much time with your cousin before she departed.¡±

    Jac thought she spent just enough time with Lou, as her debauched cousin had gotten her out of an engagement she¡¯d been dreading and set her life down a different, and in her opinion much better, path. ¡°I didn¡¯t air the family¡¯s dirty laundry, not that I think anyone would bother listening.¡±

    ¡°Have you forgotten everything I¡¯ve taught you? The walls are always listening.¡± Jackal poured himself a drink before taking a seat. ¡°And our family won¡¯t be so negligible soon. Things have been happening.¡±

    ¡°I suppose this has something to do with the conversation we didn¡¯t finish before?¡±

    Her father smiled, pleased that she had found her tact. If the walls were listening and his smug demeanor had something to do with the scheme he spoke of, it wouldn¡¯t be good to mention his involvement without knowing the situation.

    ¡°Indeed it does. I spoke to you about how your uncle had gotten involved with the independent summoners. They were discontented with the laws passed by the crown and spoke of worrying retribution. I hoped your uncle would be a moderating influence on the group. Instead, it seems they proved to be a destructive influence on him.¡±

    It felt as if all the comfortable warmth Jac enjoyed since stepping into the palace disappeared, making way for winter to grasp her with an icy hand. She shivered and spoke through grit teeth. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It means that Luke agreed to consult with them for a summoning. For what purpose, I don¡¯t know. I advised him against it and when he decided to continue their acquaintance, I separated myself from the situation.¡±

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    ¡°But you¡¯re assuming the worst.¡± That much was obvious from his tone.

    ¡°When I told them that the Masons may be involved, the king ordered the royal knights to investigate. They tracked down the group to a small farm outside the city. The owner was found dead and his barn had been destroyed. Once they cleared the rubble, they found a summoning circle. Having no summoners amongst their ranks, they asked me to provide my expertise.¡± His smug smile returned but quickly faded. Jac perked up as she realized there was genuine worry in his eyes.

    ¡°What did you find?¡± she prompted when he¡¯d been silent for too long.

    Jackal cleared his throat. ¡°I haven¡¯t dedicated as much time to the art as your uncle¡ª" A kind way to say he had forsaken their longest tradition, the same as her. ¡°It took me a few days and the notes scattered throughout the debris and I can¡¯t be sure¡ª"

    Jac huffed. She wouldn¡¯t go as far to tell him to get to the point, her upbringing had instilled too much respect for him to outright challenge him like that, but she managed to communicate enough with a roll of her eyes.

    Her father cleared his throat. ¡°Yes, well. From what I could put together, it appears the group was attempting to summon a drakkon.¡±

    Jac paused, stunned by the revelation. Then she laughed. She laughed so hard she had to grab the arms of her chair to keep from falling out of it. When she finally managed to get control of herself, she looked up, took in her father¡¯s serious expression, and lost it again.

    The idea was too ridiculous. It was a drakkon, for saints¡¯ sake. No one, no one, was crazy enough to summon one. Not even the most ignorant summoner would dare. Even if they stumbled into inviting one of the creatures into their circle, if half the stories she heard about them were true, they would never dream of making a contract with one. And this wasn¡¯t an ignorant summoner. It was Luke Tome, the coward. He wouldn¡¯t be caught within five leagues of a drakkon summoning. The idea was so ridiculous, just thinking it made her laugh.

    ¡°If you¡¯re quite done, daughter.¡±

    She held up a hand, telling him it would take her a minute.

    ¡°The idea is quite incredible, Father,¡± Matty said.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe, I know, but this isn¡¯t the time for games. I am quite sure of my conclusion. The cabal of independent summoners attempted to summon a drakkon with your uncle¡¯s help. I can only think of one reason why.¡±

    The implication of treason sobered Jac¡¯s mirth. She straightened up, forcing her expression into a neutral mask. ¡°Was it successful?¡±

    ¡°Impossible to tell without finding those involved. However, the destruction suggests either something very large or very powerful, perhaps both, was in the area.¡±

    ¡°As good as a confirmation as we can get.¡±

    ¡°More than enough for the king. I¡¯m afraid a bounty has been issued for your uncle.¡±

    ¡°Then what are we doing here? We had nothing to do with it. You can¡¯t believe Uncle would come after us? He¡¯s not that kind of man and there¡¯d be no point.¡±

    ¡°I know neither of you are involved but this is a drakkon we¡¯re talking about. The king is unwilling to take chances. You¡¯re being held for questioning but it¡¯s a formality.¡±

    ¡°Questioning? Do you mean¡­by interrogators?¡±

    Her father avoided his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s¡ª"

    ¡°Saints damn it!¡± She jumped to her feet, unable and unwilling to hide her anger. ¡°Did you consent to this? This is a complete abuse of power!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a matter of national security.¡±

    ¡°The king has the power to interrogate criminals using the mental affinity. He does not have the power to abduct citizens off the street and ransack their minds at his convenience!¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Jac. It¡¯s harmless.¡±

    ¡°Harmless.¡± She would have cursed him to his twelfth ancestor if they weren¡¯t her own. The interrogators supposedly had a code they abided while going about their work but the only ones to hold them to it were themselves. They could go through her mind, ferret out her every secret, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

    She had things she didn¡¯t want exposed. Things the king would be interested to know. Like Lou¡¯s control over the Mason family. With the crown¡¯s vendetta against the Grimoires, they would undoubtedly go after her next. ¡°I won¡¯t submit to this.¡±

    Jackal frowned. ¡°That, of course, is your right. But the king will detain you indefinitely while investigating through other means. Is your discomfort with the mental affinity enough to warrant such action?¡±

    His words said one thing but his tone asked if she had something to hide. Something she wished he would have asked before he enacted his stupid scheme. ¡°Yes. Give me the dungeon. Just keep those creepy bastards away from me.¡±

    ¡°¡­I hope you don¡¯t regret this decision, daughter.¡±

    ¡°The same to you, Father,¡± Matty sneered, glaring at the older man.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-15

    Jackal didn¡¯t think much of his ruler. Sebastian kor Harvest wasn¡¯t an impressive man. He wasn¡¯t physically imposing, particularly intelligent, or especially charismatic. The best compliment someone could give him, both as a man and as a ruler, was that he was reasonable. Practical. A subtle tongue would call him cautious. An unkind one cowardly.

    There would be no songs sung about him in two generations. History would remember his name, but his life would be contained to a single chapter, if that. But, he was the king. Jackal might not respect the man, but he certainly respected the authority he wielded.

    Being invited into the king¡¯s private study was an event he used to dream of. It should have heralded him reaching the pinnacle of life, but these weren¡¯t ideal circumstances. Instead of being seated on the opposite side of the desk, holding a drink and smiling, he stood with a straight back and a neutral frown. He hadn¡¯t been invited as a friend or even a potential friend. At best, he was a potential employee with a suspect past applying for a prestigious position.

    Sebastian stared at him with his fingers laced atop his desk, his gaze showing none of the respect Jackal hoped he was conveying. The distinguished silver hair of the royal family was dulled by the gray of one getting on in years, giving the king an air that spoke more of exhaustion than experience.

    It was wholly unexpected. Sebastian wasn¡¯t even sixty. Far too young to be showing his age for the most powerful man in the country. A good melder could have him looking as if he was still in his thirties. Of course, such an act would be considered vain to the extreme and would have him denounced by the other nobles, but Jackal wouldn¡¯t have let that stop him. They denounced the Guiness patriarch as well, but the man couldn¡¯t hear the vicious mutterings from the top of his mountain of gold.

    It wasn¡¯t too late. Jackal imagined that Sebastian would wait for Dowager, the first prince to come of age before surrendering his crown and rejuvenating his body for his retirement, as it was rumored the previous king had done. With the aid of the physical affinity, a king could rule for a century, but none had worn the crown for more than a few decades since the time of the First King. When the kingdom was founded, a strong hand was needed to hold it together. The following years were peaceful. Harvest didn¡¯t need a warrior but an administrator.

    Bureaucracy was a boring goal to dedicate one¡¯s life too. It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine the appeal of wearing the crown fading to nothing after a single decade of shoveling the kingdom¡¯s shit. History had shown that most kings were almost eager to shuck the responsibility. The few that weren¡¯t didn¡¯t last long for other reasons. The nobles didn¡¯t appreciate a tyrant and few had the power to reign them in, like Harvest¡¯s founder.

    ¡°The interrogators have finished questioning your son,¡± the king said in an even voice. ¡°They found nothing regarding this cabal of summoners and the suspected drakkon.¡±

    ¡°That is relieving to hear though I never had any doubts.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, but it¡¯s always best to be sure with these things.¡± The king leaned forward. ¡°Which brings me to the young woman being detained in our dungeons.¡±

    Jackal grit his teeth. He recognized that he might have acted hastily, not taking the time to ensure his house had no holes that needed to be plugged before running to the palace, but at the time, he didn¡¯t think he had a moment to waste. More importantly, he couldn¡¯t fathom a single thing that Jac would be desperate to hide. She was a store hand, for saints¡¯ sake. The most dangerous information she should have access to was his drunken ramblings and the account books of the store whose shelves she stocked.

    ¡°Jacquelline has nothing to do with these summoners, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

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    ¡°And yet, she is unwilling to be questioned by the interrogators. I¡¯m not insensitive to how uncomfortable the mental affinity can be. It¡¯s unnerving to know that someone can reach into your mind and ferry out your deepest secrets. And we all have secrets.¡±

    Jackal discreetly swallowed as the king stared at him pointedly. He had also submitted to the hands of the interrogators. However, his mind was prepared by Fen. Any information he didn¡¯t want getting into the king¡¯s hands was shrouded in such a way to seem like hazy memory and he was careful that the answers he did give were the complete truth. As a result, no fault could be found in his testimony, but it seemed he wasn¡¯t beyond suspicion. No one could be with succubi involved. It showed how deep a scar the Grimoire family had inflicted on the royal family.

    ¡°As a gentleman, I would like to leave the girl her privacy but if there is even the slightest chance she has information related to Luke Tome, then we need it. Harvest cannot afford to ignore the threat of a natural disaster like a drakkon. We are short on champions of Dunwayne¡¯s caliber.¡±

    ¡°It is my belief that the contract failed. Such a large creature is not easy to hide. Your people have been searching for days and there has been no trace of it or my brother.¡± He had held off sharing his brother¡¯s death. If one of the invisible members of the evil cabal was dead, the whole threat had a lot less impact. He needed the king jumping at shadows. The more afraid he was, the more he would appreciate Jackal.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t value your opinion, Javarius. I¡¯m inclined to agree. But we must be sure. With the goblinoids on our shores and the reports I¡¯m getting from the north, we truly can¡¯t afford another problem. My interrogators need to speak with your daughter.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve spoken with her but the girl has always been stubborn and she¡¯s made up her mind.¡±

    ¡°Thankfully, magic cares little for consent.¡±

    Jackal¡¯s eyes narrowed as he stared at the king¡¯s impassive face. ¡°What¡­are you saying?¡±

    ¡°The law allows the mental affinity to be used in the interrogation of criminals. It¡¯s required for any statements made against nobility. Those suspected of crimes or civilians brought in for questioning have the right to refuse on pain of being detained indefinitely while the crown investigates through other means. This practice was put into place to assuage the worries of the people with silly delusions of men in dark hoods slipping through their windows and digging through their minds to find out where they keep their savings or share their weird kinks with their neighbors.¡±

    From his tone, Jackal was sure the man would have rolled his eyes if he weren¡¯t the king, his title forcing him to maintain a prim image. ¡°A ridiculous notion. Mental casters are far too valuable to be wasted spying on peasants. Their abilities are also too valuable to be constrained by a warm blanket law to make people sleep better at night.¡±

    ¡°Can we speak plainly, Your Majesty? What is it you want?¡±

    ¡°What do I want? I want your cooperation, Javarius. More than anyone, you understand the seriousness of the situation. Your daughter will be questioned. I swear on the name of Harvest that she will not be harmed in any way and my people will stick to investigating connections to these summoners. However, I do not expect her to be quite as understanding.¡±

    ¡°You want me to soothe her?¡±

    ¡°No. You¡¯ve said she¡¯s too stubborn to be soothed by words. I will handle making amends. I will only need your assistance if she is not amenable to them.¡±

    ¡°¡­you mean, if she makes a formal complaint.¡± The king blatantly alluding to abusing the mental affinity to interrogate his daughter should have disturbed him more than it did. A part of him was frustrated by the situation. It reminded him too much of the Grimoires. However, there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn¡¯t as if he could fight through the royal knights to free his daughter from the dungeon and hide her for the rest of her life.

    No, there was nothing he could do. Just as there was nothing Jac could do but it wouldn¡¯t be good for the crown if she walked the streets hollering about how the king had scooped out her secrets against her will. That was where Jackal came in, he supposed. No one would believe the girl if her own father denounced her.

    ¡°I¡­understand.¡±

    For the first time, the king¡¯s neutral mask cracked as an insincere smile turned up the corners of his lips. ¡°I knew you would.¡± He stood from his chair and walked around his desk to clap Jackal on the shoulder. ¡°The kingdom could use more men like you. Those who know their duty¡­and when to prioritize it. I respect that a lot.¡±

    Jackal forced himself to smile back, knowing full well there was nothing respectable about what they were going to do.

 Miniarc-Overreaching-16

    Jac didn¡¯t think of herself as a spoiled noblewoman. The kind of delicate princess with smooth hands and flawless skin that existed just to be saved by the men who fancied themselves heroes. She was willing to work for her dreams. To roll in the dirt with the peasants, sleep on beds of hay, and sweat under a hot sun. She thought a stint in the dungeons would be uncomfortable but simple. The first hour made it clear she had underestimated her ordeal.

    She expected the cold, hard stone and the cramped space. What she hadn¡¯t expected was the emptiness. There was nothing else in the room. No mat to sleep on. No blanket to keep away the chill. Not even a chamber pot to piss in. From the smell, the previous inhabitants had used the corners. All the corners. The whole dungeon smelled like a latrine. She¡¯d vomited at the top of the stairs when the smell first slammed into her and had gagged for hours after. She was sure her nose had died, as she could no longer smell anything.

    Then there was the darkness. It was so dark, she couldn¡¯t make out her hands in front of her face. She would have thought they would at least have a candle or two in the hall for a patrolling guard but no one ever came to check on her. No patrol meant no need for light. She hadn¡¯t thought about it when her escorts took the small flame of their lamp with them but the longer she spent in the sightless void, the more uncomfortable she felt.

    To top off her miserable circumstances, she was hungry. Not that she thought she could eat but her empty stomach didn¡¯t care about her lack of appetite. She usually had a small breakfast on days she worked, being too active for a heavy stomach, and saved her appetite for a sumptuous dinner, usually in the city. The guards had grabbed her before she had the chance. At a guess, she¡¯d spent a few hours in the miserable cell already. That meant close to a full day without any food. Her stomach was having words with her. And while the hunger was bad, the thirst was worse. She¡¯d kill someone for a cup of water.

    Jac began to wonder if it was worth it. It hadn¡¯t even been a day and her will was shaken. There was no way she could handle so much as a week and the crown had the power to detain her indefinitely. Something she hadn¡¯t thought about much in the past but now seemed utterly ridiculous.

    And for what? The only memory she was safeguarding was her carriage ride. Where on a lonely road in the middle of the night, Lou had used Junior to cancel her engagement. Their conversation and actions heavily suggested that he was somehow under her power but that wasn¡¯t a crime.

    The king had it out for the Grimoires. He clearly wanted to make sure the weakened nobles stayed down. She was concerned that he would see her cousin, and her elven bride, as a threat. The only thing worse than the Grimoires was the Grimoires backed by a foreign power.

    Jac feared that no one would look deeper into the situation and would act rashly. She wasn¡¯t just protecting her family, she was protecting the kingdom. If Lou did have control of the Masons, which the change in last name strongly implied, then the last thing the king wanted to do was anger her. She didn¡¯t have half the subtly of the Grimoires. They would bludgeon people with their secrets. Lou would bludgeon them with her fists.

    Nobles knew the succubi as secret stealers. They forgot that every one of them had the knowledge of a master caster, if not the coefficient of one. A punitive force of the elementals would be devastating against anything they were thrown at. Even the royal knights.

    That didn¡¯t mention what would happen if Lou herself got involved. She didn¡¯t have his breadth of knowledge or his experience, but she was every bit the summoner her father was. She was also a lot more creative. It was one area where she could be subtle. If she wanted to hurt the kingdom, she wouldn¡¯t do something as heavy-handed as unleashing a drakkon. She¡¯d do something truly insidious¡­and much harder to defend against.

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    A horrible possibility but a vague one, surely. The king wasn¡¯t a stupid man. She understood that his revenge against the succubi and their masters was a long time coming but she refused to believe he would recklessly target anyone connected to the family. Especially not the niece of the man that was meant to be helping him unite the summoners¡­right? There was no reason for Jac to sit in the disgusting cell for a moment longer¡­was there? She wished to the saints there wasn¡¯t.

    The sound of a heavy door opening interrupted Jac¡¯s attempts to convince herself. She opened her eyes and had to hold back a cheer as a weak glow pierced the gloom. She sat up, wincing at her sore body. She didn¡¯t want to imagine what she looked like and thanked the saints that she was no longer concerned with high society. Rumors of her situation were bound to get out and she¡¯d never live down being thrown in the disgusting dungeons like a common criminal.

    The light grew closer, revealing itself as a small lamp held between two guards. Not royal knights. She couldn¡¯t imagine their polished golden boots putting so much as a toe on the soiled stone. Those who came for her were dressed in the unimpressive steel gray of the city guard. Fodder soldiers to do the palace¡¯s dirty work.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she asked.

    She didn¡¯t expect an answer but the brusque ¡°Get up,¡± was much colder than she felt was necessary. It wasn¡¯t as if she was a real criminal but the way the two men were looking at her, she had bludgeoned old ladies in their sleep before holding their grandchildren for ransom. They were staring at a disheveled woman thrown into a disgusting, gloomy prison at the whim of a tyrant and their hard stares said they didn¡¯t give a damn.

    The door to her cell was opened as she stood. She was motioned outside, upon which her arms were pulled behind her back. ¡°Is this really necess¡ªow!¡± Her complaints were ignored as she was marched through the dungeon. To her dismay, it wasn¡¯t toward the exit but deeper into the gloom. Impossibly, the smell worsened. Jac gagged but her escorts didn¡¯t care, pushing her along when she faltered.

    At the end of the hall was a heavy door. One of her escorts grunted with effort as he pushed it open a creak at a time, just wide enough for them to slip in. The inside contained nothing but a single chair and half a dozen candles sitting in their respective holders. Jac yelped as she was shoved into the seat. Her arms were forced onto the rests and her wrists bound by leather straps.

    A cold fear pooled in Jac¡¯s gut as she suddenly realized that things might have escalated beyond her imaginings. ¡°Hey! HEY! What in the name of the saints is going on?!¡±

    Her two escorts continued to ignore her, one standing by the door while the other lit the other candles in the room. Then they stood on either side of the door, their expressions remaining placid no matter how many questions and curses she threw at them.

    A figure dressed in a black cloak slipping into the room stopped her tirade. The cold fear in her gut heated up as anxious excitement surged through her system. Sweat coated her back as she instinctively jerked in her bonds. Because that figure was unmistakable, even if she hadn¡¯t met one barely a year ago.

    A royal interrogator.

    ¡°No. I said I didn¡¯t want to do this.¡± Her arms strained against her bindings as the interrogator approached. It was no longer about how her information might affect her family. It was about the enormity of the violation to have one¡¯s mind raided by a mental caster against one¡¯s will. The mere thought was deplorable. It was the exact thing that made the Grimoires such disgusting villains. She couldn¡¯t believe the king would stoop to the same level.

    The moment after she had that thought, she couldn¡¯t believe she thought a crown would make someone a saint. The mental affinity was a powerful tool when it came to court intrigue. With the Grimoires, the interrogators¡¯ only competition, gone, the king would have to be a fool or a righteous hero to ignore the opportunity to take their place.

    She didn¡¯t know her ruler well, but she knew he was no hero.

    ¡°Relax,¡± the interrogator said as he laid a hand on her head. Between his large hood and the shadows in the room, she couldn¡¯t make out his face. Somehow, it made the whole situation that much more unnerving. ¡°If you don¡¯t struggle, this will be quick and painless.¡±

 Miniarc-Overreaching-17

    Some nobles envied peasants. The simplicity of their lives, devoid of complicated machinations or plots. Their freedom, able to go and do what they pleased without worrying about their actions desecrating the reputation of their family. Their passion, still burning fiercely without the smothering influence of etiquette.

    Sebastian didn¡¯t envy the common man a single thing. There were things about his position he didn¡¯t like, or outright hated, but it was always preferable than being a laborer no different from the man wielding a hoe or a hammer beside him. He could never stand to be no one. To be like those who served him, dedicating themselves to a man who would never remember their names. Sebastian loved being king. He loved being the man the room turned to for answers, even if he didn¡¯t have them. He wanted to be known. For his name to be recorded in the history books¡­for the right reasons.

    The last thing he needed was future generations remembering him as the king who let the kingdom be decimated by crazy elementals and unhinged summoners. He had never been a religious man, but the incredible and unexpected collapse of the Grimoire family had almost made him worship the saints. He couldn¡¯t believe his luck and had pounced on the opportunity to rid himself of the succubus plaque once and for all.

    The Grimoires had preyed on the capital for generations. Being known as the man who banned the creatures from their world was a legacy he would be proud to leave behind.

    He didn¡¯t expect it to be a simple operation but the last thing he expected was a cabal of irate summoners to conspire to unleash a drakkon. He didn¡¯t understand them. After consulting with his advisors, the creatures he banned were legitimate threats but useless elementals that the summoning community had no interest in. They were just meant to shroud his true targets, the succubi, so the Grimoires, now the Masons through the actions of its young patriarch, couldn¡¯t accuse the crown of targeting them. He was and everyone knew it, but appearances mattered.

    His advisers had assured him that the other banned elementals were inconsequential and, for once, he was utterly shocked that they had no idea what they were talking about. At most, he should have gotten a few strongly worded letters. Maybe a group standing in his audience room, screeching about however they thought they¡¯d been wronged. The last thing he expected, or would even conceive, was them allowing an overgrown snake to rampage in his capital. That wasn¡¯t the legacy he wanted attached to his name and he was determined to make sure it didn¡¯t happen.

    His door opened and an elderly man dressed in an impeccable suit stepped in. Edward, Sebastian¡¯s manservant and his father¡¯s before him, was normally a stickler for propriety but reverted to his time as a soldier for important things. As in, letting his commanding officer know about the trouble as soon as possible. ¡°My liege, I have the reports you wanted.¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡± Sebastian pushed aside the report from the city guards he¡¯d been skimming and eagerly took the papers from the other man. The one on top was from his son. He smiled as he read the triumphant words. ¡°Dowager¡¯s doing well. He estimates they¡¯ll be back before spring.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good that the prince is safe.¡±

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    ¡°Safe and successful.¡± If there was a hint of bitterness in his tone, he didn¡¯t hear it. ¡°I admit, when the boy said he wanted to be a warrior king, I expected his first battle to snuff out his enthusiasm. He sounds more excited than ever to lead men to war.¡±

    Sebastian shook his head as he set the report aside to go over in detail later. He¡¯d have to give his son¡¯s ambitions serious thought. If Victory¡¯s casualties from their last campaign were as bad as his spies suggested, it was a prime opportunity for the crown to intervene. He dreaded the day the James family conquered the north but if they did so alongside the crown prince¡­

    His smile waned as he read the second report. One written by the interrogator that had ¡°questioned¡± Jacquellin Tome. He hadn¡¯t felt good making that decision, but one woman¡¯s privacy couldn¡¯t be weighed against the safety of thousands. It was a sin he was willing to bear for the greater good. A sacrifice that seemed pointless.

    ¡°She really didn¡¯t know anything about this cabal,¡± the king mumbled once he finished reading.

    ¡°Her father guaranteed as much.¡±

    ¡°Would you trust a man his own family calls Jackal?¡± He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why she made such a fuss.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t wish to implicate her cousin, no doubt.¡±

    That was the one interesting piece of information in the whole report. It would seem Lourianne Tome had some kind of alliance with Gordon Mason. Something that should have been impossible given their families¡¯ history. He might investigate it, as the last thing he needed was the succubi worming their way into a foreign power, but it had nothing to do with the cabal. The Tome girl could hardly have been plotting treason in the capital while in the north.

    He supposed Jacquellin¡¯s loyalty was admirable but at the moment, he could only think of it as annoying, as it had wasted valuable time. At least her father was cooperating. From the report, he didn¡¯t imagine his attempts to placate the young woman would go very far. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we can keep her in the dungeons?¡±

    ¡°Was that a serious inquiry, my liege?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Sebastian wasn¡¯t heartless. ¡°But it might be best to ferry her out of the capital and give her enough to take a small vacation. Give her some time to relax and recover from her¡­ordeal.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s connected with the Guiness Company. They can make trouble.¡±

    The king scoffed. ¡°What exactly will that man do? The golden boy is a businessman, first and foremost. Fighting with the crown isn¡¯t good for business. It¡¯d be different if he was getting tangible benefits from the elf, but they are partners in the marquis¡¯ dreams. We¡¯ll talk to her, try to get her to see reason, but if she doesn¡¯t play her part, we get rid of her. At least until we can capture these summoners.¡± If he paraded a bunch of madmen who wanted to deliver the whole of the capital to a monster, the people wouldn¡¯t care how their king had stopped them.

    ¡°It would be best to convince her.¡±

    ¡°I want you to handle the conversation personally. You know what you can offer.¡± Sebastian waved off the matter. If she didn¡¯t have any information, the girl was unimportant. Mayhap delusional, if she really believed she could sail across the sea to a ready-made kingdom. Even if her family had once been royalty with the help of some powerful elemental, that land had already crumpled. The only thing waiting for her would be ruins, if that. He might have done her a favor. It was obvious she needed an introduction to the harsher realities of life.

    ¡°More importantly, we need to find these summoners. Starting by identifying everyone involved.¡± He could assume the Mason boy was involved, for obvious reasons as well as his telling absence from the capital, but was clueless about any other conspirators.

    ¡°Other members of the summoning community would be able to identify them.¡±

    ¡°Which means Jackal.¡± Sebastian sighed. The king had hoped that he wouldn¡¯t need to use the nobleman. He really hated the man¡¯s type but, unfortunately, he knew exactly how to deal with them. ¡°Edward, prepare a banquet. It¡¯s time to make a man look important.¡±

 Miniarc-Overreaching-18

    Winter was the season for socializing.

    Banquets and parties were held throughout the year, as a noble¡¯s calendar was never empty, but the scale changed during the cold months. It was a time when people were flush with money, the laborers having worked throughout the year and the nobles having sold the fruits of those labors.

    The cold kept them inside and they needed something to occupy them. Usually, it was food, wine, music, and gossip. Some parties could go on for days, each meal featuring a different array of foods, decorations, and musicians, all requiring different locations and attire. The merchants made a killing and the people had a good time.

    As the leaders of the kingdom, the royal family couldn¡¯t afford to be outdone by anyone else. For the sake of their reputation, they had to me more visible, more extravagant, and more frivolous than anyone else. A duty the palace took to with gusto. The king made it a point to reveal a new spectacle or curiosity every year. Presenting the unusual was one of the few ways known to receive Sebastian¡¯s favor, as the man didn¡¯t engage in the normal maneuverings of the political world.

    As a noble of the capital, Jackal had a standing invitation to every royal banquet. For years, he¡¯d stood against the walls and watched as others enjoyed themselves. His hungry gaze would scrutinize the exotic manabeasts and masterpieces of different disciplines, wondering if securing something similar would catapult him out of obscurity.

    When the Grimoire family collapsed, he¡¯d begun putting together a plan to do that. A proper showing would give him the chance to talk to the partygoers that never paid him any mind and Jackal was sure, that if he could just speak with them, they would understand that he deserved to move amongst them.

    Many times, he imagined working his way around banquet tables and sitting rooms, building connections. With proper support, both political and financial, he would leverage his family¡¯s legacy of summoning to improve their domain. Something that would be much more daunting without his brother to lead the project but Jackal was a Tome as well. More importantly, he was a far better administrator. Anyone with the knowledge could summon an elemental and secure a favorable contract. It took a keen mind to use them to their full potential.

    Once he showed the value of summoning, the king would be a fool not to award his family more territory. It would mean moving further from the capital, likely to the south, but it was a sacrifice he was more than willing to make. He¡¯d still return in the winter, as all the territory and power in the kingdom were pointless if there was no one around to recognize them.

    By the time his head was full of gray, he would no longer have to run around. He could relax in a nice plush chair while the people of importance came to him¡­and perhaps another heir. Matthias was a good man, an honest man. Jackal had no doubt that he would care for the Tome name but he didn¡¯t have a political bone in his body. The last thing he wanted was to build a new legacy for the family and have it taken from a man with no desire to keep it.

    Fate had intervened. Jackal thought he would have to claw his way to the top, as many others before him. Instead, it seemed the king would pave the way for him. Things hadn¡¯t gone according to plan but he couldn¡¯t argue with the results. No longer did he have to worry about how he would buy his way in with the elite of the capital. To worry about weaving through a crowded party to secure favor like a bird frantically pecking at the ground for worms. He had the favor of the man who mattered most and the king had made no secret of it.

    Jackal¡¯s smile hadn¡¯t abated the slightest since he walked into the palace¡¯s ballroom. It couldn¡¯t. Not when he knew that every table, every decoration, every servant scurrying through the room to put it all together, was there for him. The king had announced a banquet in his honor. It was written on every invitation in elegant cursive. Everyone who attended would know his name. They would be coming to see him, at least on the surface. Even those who had never heard of the Tome family would make time for a conversation, wondering what about him had caught the attention of the most powerful man in the kingdom.

    He planned to take full advantage of it.

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    ¡°Jackal!¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty.¡± Not even bowing to Sebastian could ruin Jackal¡¯s mood as the king came strolling into the room with his manservant in tow. The king took a cursory look at the progress of the room before turning with disinterest. Jackal wasn¡¯t bothered. It would take days before the ballroom was up to the standards of royal banquets, so it was nothing to look at it, and it wasn¡¯t the king¡¯s party to take an interest in. He needed Sebastian¡¯s name, not his enthusiasm. ¡°Is there something I can do for you?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve drawn up a statement.¡± With a motion of his hand, the manservant handed over a folded paper. Jackal took it and quickly skimmed the contents. Most of it was the flowery nonsense required for anyone speaking to the upper class but the gist of it was what they had discussed previously. Jackal would speak on summoning and the danger of unregulated summoners. He would do his best to absolutely terrify the crowd for a few minutes with the worst possibilities. Without mentioning the drakkon. The king wanted them scared, not panicked.

    Then, when they were properly terrified, he would present them with a solution. An organization that would identify, regulate, and train summoners. One that would use the art to improve the kingdom and their individual territories. How? The ways couldn¡¯t be counted. There was nothing that could not be found in the vast collection of realms beyond their own. They wanted gold to fill their coffers? There were elementals that grew it the way people grew hair. Iron to outfit their private armies? The right elemental could make it spring from the earth with the ease of pulling water from a well. They could have eternal youth. Infinite knowledge. Everlasting joy and fulfillment.

    He would present the organization as the answer to all their hopes and fears. As the head of that organization, Jackal would eventually become the most important man in the kingdom. Perhaps, one day, even more than the king himself.

    Of course, his success was predicated on the success of his organization. On corralling all the independent summoners, drafting legislation to keep them in line, and enforcing that legislation. Then he¡¯d have to search among them to find those with ability and find a way to ensure their loyalty before sending them to the territories of other nobles. His organization would become redundant if nobles had their own summoners to see to their elemental needs.

    He would also have to figure out the hassle of tracking down rogue summoners, those too accustomed to their independence who wouldn¡¯t be happy to relinquish it.

    It was almost enough to make him sympathize with the Grimoires. Not the animals they became but the generation that first turned to the succubi. All his problems would be a lot easier if he had a creature that could reach into the minds of problematic people and make them obedient puppets. Or could hunt down secrets and conspiracies better than a hound chasing rabbits.

    Jackal was already considering forming a contract of his own. It would be a little embarrassing if the head of summoners in the kingdom didn¡¯t have a single elemental. Succubi were banned but there were dozens, if not hundreds, with their same abilities. The king¡¯s bans were quite useless. The organization was for Jackal¡¯s sake, but the kingdom certainly needed it.

    ¡°Of course, you don¡¯t need to say it word from word. It¡¯s just a framework.¡± And a guide. What went unspoken was if Jackal went against what they had outlined in the statement, the king wouldn¡¯t speak to support him. For now, he was nothing more than a mouthpiece. While success had come faster than he expected, it would take time before it was his own.

    ¡°I understand. Is there anything else?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Tonight, your daughter will be released. As I said earlier, she will be driven outside of the city and advised not to return. We¡¯ve provided her with enough funds to enjoy our wonderful kingdom. Or perhaps the world. I understand she wants to see the other continents and has connections to the Guiness family. It¡¯d be quite fortuitous if your family managed to spread its name on two separate continents at the same time.¡±

    Jackal called on years of control to make sure his expression showed nothing but bland acceptance. While he regretted his daughter¡¯s¡­discomfort, he couldn¡¯t let it breed distrust between himself and the king. Now wasn¡¯t the time to be a concerned father. It might be hard for Jacquellin to understand but she¡¯d come around when he had built enough wealth for her children and her grandchildren to live like royalty.

    ¡°If you would allow it, I would like to drive my daughter out the city. It will give me the chance to say goodbye and pass on a few words of advice.¡±

    His request was risky, as it could easily be seen as trying to collude with her. Jackal could see the king¡¯s suspicion but it was a smart gamble. If Jacquellin acted up, he could claim honestly that he did everything he could to convince her otherwise. If she obediently kept quiet, he could also claim his intervention had ensured her cooperation. He might get a few strange looks in the meantime but, in the end, it would strengthen his position.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t deny a father a few words with his child. Edward will find you when it¡¯s time. Be sure to let me know if there is anything you need for the party.¡± The king smiled as he patted Jackal¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Soon, you¡¯ll be representing the crown. This showing must reflect a man of your importance.¡±

    Jackal unconsciously puffed up. ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty.¡±

 Miniarc-Overreaching-19

    The horrid smell wouldn¡¯t leave her nose. Jac could practically taste it, even when she drank water. Three days. They kept her locked in that horrid place for three days, despite getting what they wanted the first night. To intimidate her into keeping her mouth shut. They didn¡¯t have to say it for her to understand the threat of being left there for the rest of her life if she acted out of turn. Who could stop them? Her own father hadn¡¯t protested her obscene treatment.

    Even if he had, he could forget all about it under the hands of an interrogator. The way they pulled her from the cell and threw her into a carriage told her that resistance was futile. The king believed he was untouchable, at least from a lowly noblewoman.

    Oh, how wrong he was. Jac might not be able to touch him. She could march up and down the streets of the capital shouting at anyone who would listen what had happened to her and, at most, she might annoy him. The price of which would probably be another stay in the dungeon, something she wanted to avoid at all costs.

    However, she knew another lowly noblewoman that could definitely cause him trouble. One reckless enough and crazy enough to do it too. There were three things her cousin couldn¡¯t stand. Grimoires, people who looked down on her, and people who looked down on summoning. Each one would make Lou crazy enough to commit treason in the right circumstances. Together? She¡¯d burn the palace down or something just as drastic. All she had to do was pierce the bubble of restraint formed by a lifetime of strict etiquette being pounded into her head and reveal the petty woman underneath.

    Normally, Jac would never involve Lou in her problems. Both because it was beneath her and she feared the day Lou would overreact. She didn¡¯t care anymore. What did her dignity matter when a useless old man with a crown on his head could strip her of it whenever he pleased? By the time she was through, she would paint the king as a brain gouging, ignorant, elemental hating, biased against summoners, amoral bastard. Might paint him as a pig that enjoyed abusing woman just for good measure.

    She wanted Lou to overreact. Her and that sadistic elf by her side. The capital had ignored the green woman¡¯s bloodthirsty nature, as the prim nobles didn¡¯t know how to interact with someone who didn¡¯t fit into their molds, but Jac was under no illusions about Kierra¡¯s nature. When the time came to collect skulls, she¡¯d be the first in line.

    The way she felt, a skull was the only thing that could answer the sense of¡­violation afflicting her. It had been hours since she¡¯d been pulled from the dungeon and she couldn¡¯t get rid of the chill. Couldn¡¯t stop seeing a man in a dark hood in the shadows. Whenever the world was too quiet, she went back to that small room. She remembered the uncaring guards, the pain in her wrists as she strained against her bindings, and the disgusting feeling of foreign mana invading her body.

    The interrogator had warned her not to resist, as it made the process more uncomfortable. An impossible task. She didn¡¯t think she could surrender to the invasion even if her life was on the line. Her defiance meant the invading mana felt like worms squirming throughout her body but that wasn¡¯t the worst part.

    Neither was thinking about what other things the interrogator had taken from her mind. She didn¡¯t believe for a moment he had stopped at information related to her uncle. Mainly because that would take a level of skill she doubted he had. She didn¡¯t know much about the mental affinity, but she knew its spells were complicated and required as much mental finesse as knowledge. Knowing there was someone out there privy to every hope, fear, embarrassment, and secret desire in her heart, to know someone had taken them from her, left her feeling dirty even after an hour-long bath.

    Despite that, the worst part was her father. She always knew he was a selfish man. Someone who could do unsavory things in the name of his ambition. Someone who craved power like a winter-starved wolf craved meat and, much like the beast, would tear someone apart to get what he wanted. He was arrogant, entitled, and perhaps a little slimy.

    Still, Jac had never hated him. They were family and she valued that. She valued him as she thought he valued her. He vehemently defended the Tome name and she thought it was because he valued his children. Everything he did was for their future as well as his own.

    When she was dragged out of the dungeon and thrown into a carriage waiting outside the palace, her father was waiting inside. Like any other daughter forced to endure horrible circumstances, she had turned to him for comfort, blurting out every horrible detail. She wasn¡¯t crazy enough to think he could do anything about it. A shared sense of outrage and perhaps a few useless vows of vengeance would have been enough. If would have been touching if he was willing to speak out against the king for her but she would have talked him down, promising she would be fine.

    The last thing she wanted, needed, or expected was for him to start defending the king.

    ¡°Are you alright, Jacquelline? Mm, good. You don¡¯t appear to be injured though your appearance¡­don¡¯t worry. We can stop by the house for a moment. Give you a chance to clean up and pack a few things.¡±

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    ¡°What you went through is horrible¡­but you have to understand. The king couldn¡¯t take any chances with the safety of the kingdom hanging in the balance. A drakkon would make anyone paranoid. And you really shouldn¡¯t have resisted. You caused yourself undue hardship.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you have to leave the city. It¡¯s for your own good. People will talk and turn your unfortunate incarceration into something it isn¡¯t. Do you want to juggle snide remarks for the rest of winter? Besides, you are being paid to go wherever you please. A generous amount as well. Of course it¡¯s a bribe, Jacquellin. Would you rather they beat you into submission? Or perhaps conjure some crime and leave you locked in the bowels of the palace with the rats? Learn to recognize the saints¡¯ blessings lest they deem you unfit for them.¡±

    Her father had made it quite clear that he didn¡¯t care what happened to her if it meant obtaining the crown¡¯s favor. If he didn¡¯t care and the king didn¡¯t care, she saw no reason she needed to care. Let it all burn.

    The Guiness Company too. If he wanted to, the marquis could have intervened. Not because he wanted something from Lou but because she worked for him. She didn¡¯t expect him to start a coup but sending someone around to inquire about her being snatched off the street wasn¡¯t asking for too much. Even if it was just the manager of the store.

    Over the past three days, Jac had been introduced to the uncomfortable truth that she was disposable. She might have been born with a last name into a noble¡¯s estate but in the eyes of those with real power, she was no different from the faceless peasants that towed in the fields and shoveled shit. And, if she played their game, she would always be that helpless woman lying on a cold floor in the dark, wondering how life could take such a sudden turn.

    So, forget her father. Forget the Tomes. Forget the Guiness. Screw the king and his interrogators. She was done with the lot of them and their game. It was time to play by new rules. No more waiting and patient planning. She was taking her power.

    But first, she needed a chance. Someone to give her an opportunity. For that, she¡¯d try her last connection. That, and she wanted to explain what had happened to Lou personally. Her cousin could seem apathetic, but she cared about her family. If her father got himself into trouble, Lou would reluctantly come to his rescue.

    Her father had fought for the king¡¯s approval, not realizing that the only connection he would ever need was right beside him. She wouldn¡¯t give him the chance to realize his mistake.

    The carriage came to a sudden stop. Jac swore as she was tossed from her seat. Her father caught himself against the wall. He went to open the door, his scowl saying he was ready to scold the driver, but Jac pushed herself against the door. ¡°Are you crazy?¡± she hissed. ¡°If it¡¯s an ambush, the last thing you do is open the door!¡±

    ¡°No one would dare ambush us so close to the capital,¡± he spouted indignantly but he stopped trying to open the door.

    ¡°Very astute,¡± a muffled voice called from the other side of it, startling both the occupants. ¡°You are quite correct, my lady, but I¡¯m going to insist you open the door. I mean you no harm, I swear, but if you don¡¯t open the door, I¡¯ll have to remove it.¡±

    The voice was pleasant and feminine. It spoke with a surety that left no doubt in Jac¡¯s mind that it would do what it promised. If she didn¡¯t open the door, it was going to come off by force. That wasn¡¯t what made her oblige the request.

    She opened the door, kicking away her father that tried to stop her, because the voice sounded familiar.

    As she expected, someone she recognized waited outside. Though she looked different, it would take a lot more than a change in coloring for her not to recognize the succubus present during one of the most memorable nights of her life. The presence of Junior behind her, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered despite his heavy jacket, also made the woman¡¯s identity rather obvious as there was only one person, or being, that could make him leave a warm bed in the middle of a cold night. ¡°Fen?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while, Jac.¡± The thrall offered a hand. ¡°Let me help you down.¡±

    ¡°You!¡± her father shouted as she took the succubus¡¯ hand. ¡°What are you doing here? You said you were leaving.¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t currently in the capital, are we? And we are leaving. We just wanted to make sure that Lou¡¯s family was alright before taking off. Imagine my shock when I learned that her cousin was being detained and no one could tell me why. I couldn¡¯t move on without confirming her condition. Why, if she was detained for any longer, I would have gone to get her.¡±

    Jac felt a swell of warmth in her chest, any doubt in her decision quashed by the display of power. Lou had done more for her than her own father and she¡¯d done it from the other side of the country. ¡°There¡¯s a bag of gold in there that belongs to me, but my father has been reluctant to let go of it.¡±

    Jackal stiffened under the accusation but one look from Fen and he handed it over. She casually passed it on to Junior who whistled at the weight. A harmless gesture to anyone else but very telling to a summoner like Jac. Fen treated him like a servant. It said that Lou wasn¡¯t the only one with power over the young patriarch. And if the patriarch of the family didn¡¯t have control over his succubus, that was¡­telling.

    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± Jackal asked. ¡°What do you get out of this?¡±

    ¡°What indeed?¡± Instead of answering, Fen slammed the door in his face. She snapped her fingers and the horses turned the carriage around before taking off at a sprint. Jac chuckled watching the unconscious driver be jostled around as the carriage flew down the King¡¯s Road, back toward the capital.

    ¡°I have the same question. Why are you doing this?¡± she asked once the carriage was hard to make out, showing her father had no intention of coming back for her. Once again abandoning her to a greater power.

    ¡°Because Lou asked us to look after you and your brother.¡± Fen clapped. ¡°Now, I understand that you aren¡¯t welcomed in the capital. What would you think of traveling with us for a while? I can promise your safety and as much comfort as the road will allow. Of course, I won¡¯t do anything untoward¡­unless you ask nicely.¡±

    Jac cleared her throat and averted her eyes. The flush in her face meant nothing. A beautiful face could affect anyone. ¡°Thanks for the offer but I¡¯m heading for the Grand Hall. I need to talk to my cousin.¡±

    She didn¡¯t see the devious smile that stretched across the thrall¡¯s face. ¡°What a coincidence. So do we.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-01

    As winter packs the last of its belongings, spring is warming up in preparation to take its place. Three days into our journey back to Quest, the frost hasn¡¯t quite disappeared from the roads, forcing us to slow our pace lest we tempt fate. Our pace is further compromised by the presence of two unexpected guests in the carriage, Yulia and her son, Allen.

    The rose of the north and her butterball returning with us to Quest was a last-minute decision. One that I find myself questioning the wisdom of. At the time, it sounded like a good idea, as she offered to help us with the consequences of the March. No member of my household is particularly good at being diplomatic.

    Alana, my not-so-saintly future saint, has shown that when things get serious, she defaults to handling matters with a sharp blade. Kierra, the elven savage, is, well, a savage. My succubi, Geneva and Belolial, are amoral creatures that would drown babies if it progressed their goals just a little faster.

    I am the most inclined to peaceful solutions, the first to balk at rampant bloodshed when it concerns the innocent. What a revelation that was.

    Growing up, I thought myself a terrible person. Jealous of my peers, fearful of my ¡°betters¡±, and apathetic to the plights of my lessers. My transformation has revealed parts of myself I could never imagine. I was never apathetic, simply trapped in a state of numbness.

    Power woke me up, exposing a soft heart along with my deviant desires. I may be an advocate for peace but I¡¯m no good at it. And though I can be sympathetic to the pitiful, I am just as unsympathetic to anyone who crosses my bottom line. So far, I¡¯ve solved my problems by thoroughly crushing them.

    We spent the past winter in Fort Victory. It is a place of never-ending snow and violence. Men and women die by the hundreds and thousands every season in their fruitless war against the monsters that inhabit the freezing wasteland.

    Normally, Victory is the last place I would want to spend the months between my initiate year at the Grand Hall and my first year as an acolyte, but Alana gave me little choice. She was drawn back to her home, eager to prove herself to her family. I would have followed her for that alone, but it also proved a good opportunity to escape the city. Something I needed after raising a bit of fuss with the guilds who had the audacity to kidnap Howie, my favorite brewer, after I told them he was under my protection.

    By a fuss, I mean Kierra, Bell, and I killed more than two dozen hunters and a guildmaster between us. Geneva, who was sent off to capture one of Howie¡¯s kidnappers, did untold damage to the city, taking advantage of the chaos. I know she caused a bit of property damage and did some thieving. Haven¡¯t asked what she did to come back covered in blood. Don¡¯t think I want to know.

    Understandably, the hunters were miffed with my house for dispensing our own justice. I thought getting out of the city would allow the tension to fade, at least enough for me to settle the issue without anyone doing anything reckless. It didn¡¯t. Trouble followed me to the north in the guise of a hunter named Emberton, an idiot that messed with powers he didn¡¯t understand.

    The fool thought to use the traditions of Victory to ensnare me, calling on an ancient dueling ritual to keep me from running from a small army of hunters ready to take my head for a sizable bounty. At the behest of her brother, Zachariah James, who wanted my dear Alana out of the way so there was one less sibling competing for the shitty prize that is their wintry home. Well, one of them underestimated the insanity of the northerners and the other underestimated me. It¡¯s hard to say who made the bigger mistake.

    The end result? My household faced the hunters in a grand battle. Well, grand in scale. Not so much in execution. The poor bastards wouldn¡¯t have stood a chance against a single one of us, except for Alana. Facing three master casters and a godling would be a hard task for the saint themselves let alone the riff-raff of the kingdom. I was forced to reveal a few secrets. Maybe that¡¯ll console their spirits before they¡¯re torn apart by the Abyss.

    We won and in Victory, that means a lot more than bragging rights. Emberton invoked rites he didn¡¯t understand. He wagered everything that he was as a representative of the guilds. That means that we, my house, has a claim on everything the guilds own. Their gold. Their equipment. Their homes. The clothes on their backs. Their lives.

    The worst part? For the hunters, at least. Victory will enforce our claim. That means, if the guilds don¡¯t pay up, the northerners will march on the city and put them to the sword. Nevermind that will undoubtedly spark a civil war. The people of Victory are maniacs.

    So, it¡¯s best for everyone that the guilds give us our dues. I¡¯m not so kindhearted that I¡¯d let such a hoard escape my clutches but knowing that robbing the guilds blind is the bestoutcome does make things easier. I don¡¯t expect the hunters to see it that way. However, I am hoping that I can convince them that they are outclassed and save their lives.

    For that, we have Yulia. A woman who, according to Alana, has managed to build a substantial power base using nothing but her smile and her words. She has managed to wrangle the knights of the north for years, taming and marrying a man those maniacs call the Devil of the North. A few angry hunters should be nothing. I¡¯m hoping that with her taking charge of the negotiations, I can finally resolve a problem without someone dying, saints willing.

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    One might ask why I don¡¯t ask Geneva, a schemer with centuries of experience tricking intelligent creatures across multiple realms, to handle it. Normally, I would, but I¡¯m a little leery of my elemental at the moment.

    In Victory, the unexpected battle royale interfered with her plans to manipulate me into taking the north for myself. A plan that involved using Alana. When I formed a contract with her, I understood I was signing up for a power struggle that will last for a lifetime, and that¡¯s all well and good, but only as long as it is related to me. I draw the line at involving my lovers. Especially the ones I¡¯m in a committed relationship with.

    Geneva went a bit too far so she¡¯s in timeout, unable to stick her nose in current events. Isolation is one of the few ways I know how to punish her. Pain? What is that to a creature that can manipulate their physical form? The same applies to emotional pain. She can¡¯t be scolded or bludgeoned with hurt feelings. No, the only thing she remotely cares about is being ignored. More importantly, being deprived of opportunities to further her agenda.

    The succubus isn¡¯t my only option. There are plenty of options if I simply wanted an intermediary for negotiations with the guilds. I could have gone to Miss Talia, former dorm mother turned Kierra¡¯s flower. Our very eager mistress who has exchanged her body and her affection to reach a higher understanding of magic. She has a calm temperament, so calm some might describe it as cold, and experience wrangling strong personalities.

    Better, her past with the interrogators gives her credibility. The biggest reason the hunters have made so many mistakes regarding me and mine is that I am an unknown. They keep attacking me because they don¡¯t know what I¡¯m capable of.

    Talia is different. If they have to sit down with the woman the powers that be expect to be the next royal interrogator, they¡¯ll think twice about doing anything reckless. Or lying. The presence of a mental caster tends to make people more honest.

    There¡¯s also Maxine Guiness, the daughter of the famous Guiness patriarch. The man made of gold. As a merchant, I¡¯m sure she has plenty of experience in negotiation, especially those that involve large amounts of currency being exchanged. I can also trust her to represent our interests well.

    The Guiness family has been trying to win my family over since I returned to Harvest from the Enchanted Forest. Specifically, they want access to the treasures of the elven continent. Especially xanderium, the famed mana ore.

    Another good intermediary would be someone from the Hall. While the school doesn¡¯t involve itself in Quest¡¯s problems, it is run by the Harvest Hero himself. I¡¯m sure someone could be convinced to intervene to preserve lives. The negotiations are guaranteed to remain peaceful when the consequence of acting out is upsetting Dunwayne. Perhaps Miss Alyssa. The teacher has quite a bit of experience with my household. Enough to understand what a disaster it would be if the guilds make us use force to claim our winnings. She¡¯s also from Victory, so she will respect the traditions that have brought us to this point.

    Plenty of choices. However, I still vouched for Yulia to be our spokesperson. For two very good reasons. One is that she and her husband are most likely going to be the next rulers of the north.

    From the way she obsesses over her home, I was sure Alana would be the next duchess of Victory, but recent events have left her thoroughly disenchanted with her home. Maybe she will want the title when the time comes for her father to step down, and by the saints it will be hers if she does, but she¡¯s coming around to the idea that there is more to life than winter and war.

    However, regardless of whether she is in charge or never steps foot in Victory again, Alana will always care about it. As they say in the north, Victory or death. There are no other options.

    Her father says that the north is a part of the James. In their blood. While he couldn¡¯t elaborate on the cryptic words, as a summoner, I understand the power of oaths. Alana can¡¯t separate herself from the north just as I cannot separate myself from summoning. Our legacies are part of us.

    Seeing as the fate of Victory is instrumental to my future wife¡¯s happiness, I am invested in it. That means I am invested in the woman who will be leading it. And it will be Yulia, not her husband. Not because the Devil of the North isn¡¯t a leader in his own right. His wife simply has him wrapped around her fingers. If she asks for the moon, the poor man will drive himself mad trying to retrieve it for her.

    The second reason is more personal. Alana does not get along with her sister. It wouldn¡¯t be an exaggeration to say that she hates her. Yulia wants to remedy the situation but her every attempt has been rebuffed with apathy and cruelty.

    The two have very different views on the situation. To Yulia, she is the victim of circumstance. Lumped in with Alana¡¯s grudge against the rest of the north that made her feel inadequate. All she wants is the chance to prove that she¡¯s different and for the two sisters to be a real family, not a warband.

    Alana believes her sister is a narcissist that cannot live without people worshiping the ground she walks on and pandering to her every whim. She thinks her elder sister will do anything to be loved, including mentally and physically battering someone until they come crawling to her for mercy. Not by her own hand. Yulia¡¯s hands are soft and remain clean. Another thing Alana resents, as someone who grew up knowing she would have to risk her life in the northern campaigns to receive the recognition her siblings never had to earn.

    Honestly, I don¡¯t know who¡¯s right. Maybe they¡¯re both wrong. Yulia seems like a perfectly lovely woman who has never had anything less than a kind word for anyone for the short time that I¡¯ve known her. However, her actions could be seen in a sinister light by a paranoid mind.

    I trust Alana with my life, but I don¡¯t trust her when it comes to her family. The north makes her¡­crazy. To put it mildly. Yulia makes her the craziest of all. It is entirely possible that she¡¯s taken a brush and painted a wholly inaccurate picture of her sister.

    I don¡¯t know, but I intend to find out. If it¡¯s possible, I¡¯d like the two to get along. Barring that, I¡¯d at least like for the two to be able to speak civilly. We¡¯re going to be family after all. And, in the end, family is the only thing that matters, isn¡¯t it?

    I¡¯m gained many things since the elemental Cosmo entered my life and remade me in his image. With wealth, talent, and power laid at my feet, I can truly understand the stories that proclaim people to be the greatest treasures. There¡¯s nothing I won¡¯t do for those I love. Even saving them from themselves, when necessary.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-02

    The decision to bring along the winter rose does come with a few issues. Not from her. As a James, roughing it on the road for a week or two isn¡¯t enough to remotely bother her. It¡¯s the butterball that causes all the fuss.

    I¡¯m not particularly fond of children. Something that has nothing to do with said tykes. It¡¯s me. I am deathly afraid of hurting them or influencing them in improper ways. I guess one could say I like children very much as I am far too careful around them. Can¡¯t even hold them without worrying I¡¯ll break the little things.

    Alana¡¯s nephew is no exception. He may have been born in Victory but even the suicidal zealots famed to be the second strongest knights in the kingdom, beneath only the royal knights, are born soft and squishy, the same as the rest of us. He is not as accustomed to the rigors of travel as his mother and we¡¯ve had to do many things to accommodate the temperamental little boy.

    Like now. When we left, I expected to be back in Quest in a week. Maybe a day or two more. A frankly ridiculous schedule for anyone else but more than possible with the gifts of my house. However, we¡¯ve been moving at a much slower pace, mostly to entertain Allen.

    Sure, we could have just ignored the boy and pressed on but it¡¯s his first time leaving Victory. Yulia wants him to enjoy it. That means stopping to pick flowers, literally. He also can¡¯t sit in the admittedly cramped carriage for more than a couple hours without throwing a fit.

    Such complications find us meandering in a field off the King¡¯s Road. We made good time today so I saw no problem in making a stop. We aren¡¯t in a rush to return to Quest and the trouble it holds. Alana is off with Allen, admiring the few eager green sprouts coming up despite the lingering chill, avoiding her sister and enjoying a basket of snacks prepared by Geneva. Leaving me to entertain the bunny.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for this,¡± Yulia says from beside me as we lounge on the grass. I daresay she is enjoying her jaunt beyond the snow as much as her son, looking downright content beneath a bright sun, holding a glass of wine in one hand. She¡¯s exchanged her usual heavy dress and furs for a dark skirt and short-sleeved blouse. It¡¯s worth noticing because there is no use for such clothes in the north. Makes me think she¡¯s been planning a trip south for some time.

    Also worth noticing because she makes even plain clothes look good. No one with a working pair of eyes can deny that Yulianna James is a beautiful woman.

    Another point of contention between the two sisters. It seems Alana grew up being compared to her sister and not in a nice way. Doesn¡¯t believe me when I say she¡¯s the more attractive sister. And she is, at least to me.

    Yulia is certainly prettier in the conventional sense but there is more to attraction than looks. My future saint has¡­presence. What do the performers call it? Gravitas. Force of personality. Though she is plenty attractive in the physical sense as well, what¡¯s inside makes her irresistible to me.

    I can¡¯t see inside Yulia. To my perceptions, her heart is a murky mess that makes me uncomfortable. If I weren¡¯t involved with Alana, I wouldn¡¯t say no to her attentions, but I can¡¯t see us being anything more.

    Doesn¡¯t mean things between us have to be unpleasant.

    ¡°What are you apologizing for?¡±

    She smiles. ¡°I forced my way onto your carriage. For good reasons, mind, but in hindsight, it was a bit uncouth. Not to mention bringing my son. I¡¯m not blind to the fact that our presence is slowing you down.¡±

    I wave off her concerns. ¡°You didn¡¯t force your way anywhere, you volunteered to help and I accepted. Yeah, we¡¯re going slower than we could be because of the of the little guy but it¡¯s not as if we¡¯re in a rush. Alana seems to be enjoying his company.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but do you?¡±

    I grimace. ¡°Don¡¯t let my reticence give you the wrong impression. I like him well enough.¡±

    She giggles. ¡°You¡¯re not giving me much hope for nieces and nephews.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s different.¡± Because any child of mine would be strong enough that I don¡¯t have to worry so much about them. As for corrupting them, that¡¯s my job as a parent.

    ¡°I hope so. It¡¯s something I¡¯m looking forward to. I used to hope she would never return from the Hall. Join one of the orders run by some summer noble, find a nice man, and raise a family that has never seen the Peaks.¡± Her voice is soft and wistful as she recounts her fantasy. ¡°I¡¯d visit her every summer with Allen. I knew he¡¯d love it, just like he does. Hoped he¡¯d love it so much he¡¯d run away when he came of age.¡±

    This is the first time I¡¯ve heard a mother wish for her son to run away from home. ¡°Don¡¯t trust your husband to end the war?¡±

    She sighs. ¡°He is an amazing fighter and almost as good of a leader, but Victory has seen many impressive men. Despite that, we haven¡¯t conquered so much as a stride of land beyond the mountains. Five hundred years of failure is a tall wall to scale. Now, with this business of the estrazi¡­¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I¡¯d love for him to do the impossible, but I won¡¯t put that burden on him. It¡¯s enough if he comes home safe and sane. Bah! We shouldn¡¯t be discussing this. Let¡¯s talk about your winnings.¡±

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    Not exactly a less grim subject but I oblige her. ¡°What about them?¡±

    ¡°Our strategy to collect them of course.¡± She drains the rest of her glass and holds it out. Bell is immediately there to refill it. ¡°Is it wrong that I¡¯m excited to negotiate a peaceful surrender with the guilds? I know I should be taking the matter seriously and I am, of course, but this is exactly what I want for my home. Solutions to problems that don¡¯t involve violence.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. My wife tells me that passion makes people strong.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Kierra is certainly an interesting woman. A shame she couldn¡¯t join us.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s off having her own fun.¡± The elf caught an interesting scent and went off on a hunt. Personally, I think it was an excuse for some time alone. The north wasn¡¯t good for my lovely maniac and she hasn¡¯t quite shaken the funk it put her in. I¡¯m getting worried but she doesn¡¯t want to discuss it. If things keep up the way they are, I¡¯m going to have to take drastic action.

    ¡°You know, she¡¯s one of the reasons we¡¯re in such a good position for negotiation. I¡¯m sure stories of the March have spread outside of Victory, but I doubt anyone will truly appreciate the threat you represent. I still don¡¯t appreciate it.¡± She side-eyes me while sipping her drink. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re ready to explain how a woman loses her head and shrugs it off like a papercut?¡±

    ¡°My abilities speak for themselves.¡± I¡¯ve decided to be more open about my abilities going forward, as there is no way I can pretend to be a simple fire caster anymore, but that doesn¡¯t mean I need to spill all my secrets to anyone that asks. It¡¯s good enough to know that I¡¯m strong and very hard to put down.

    She huffs, her bright smile making it playful. ¡°Fine. Be mysterious. Your wife¡¯s verifiable accomplishment of putting a guildmaster in the ground is good enough to represent your strength. That¡¯s crucial, you know. No one negotiates with people they can cut down.¡±

    I hum in agreement. It¡¯s a bit of a generalization but it¡¯s a generalization that exists because it¡¯s been proven right many, many times.

    ¡°Now, our strategy. First, I want to confirm something. What do you want from the guilds?¡±

    ¡°Hard to say.¡± I don¡¯t know what the guilds have but I¡¯m entitled to all of it. ¡°Be easier to tell you what I don¡¯t want. Their lives, obviously. I don¡¯t need their equipment either, unless they¡¯re hoarding artifacts. Even then, I don¡¯t need anything unless it¡¯s extraordinary. Er, don¡¯t need food or drink¡ª"

    ¡°Not at all,¡± Yulia agrees, taking another sip of her wine.

    ¡°Heh. Let¡¯s see¡­I don¡¯t need books unless they have summoning records. I think¡­I want one of their buildings. Just one.¡±

    ¡°You say ¡®just one¡¯ as if we¡¯re talking about sausages. Or drinks. ¡®Just one¡¯ building means displacing hundreds, maybe thousands, of people. It¡¯s an assault on their very identity and undoubtedly one of the most expensive possessions they own. Ifthey even own it.¡±

    ¡°Trust me. Those pompous bastards own it.¡± I can¡¯t imagine the cowardly lord of Quest making them pay rent. I¡¯ll be impressed if he didn¡¯t give them the land as a gift after a stern conversation.

    ¡°What would you even want one for? I imagine they¡¯re the same size as a knight order¡¯s headquarters. Far too much building for one person. Or one clan.¡±

    Silly bunny. I suppose it¡¯s not her fault as she¡¯s never seen the Summer Palace. Or even the estates near the capital. If she had, she¡¯d know there is no such thing as too much space. ¡°I want my own property.¡± The Hall taking a neutral stance in our recent problems has reminded me that we¡¯re not allies. Dunwayne may appreciate Kierra¡¯s abilities, but he has other concerns than our welfare. ¡°This is a good opportunity to obtain a prime piece of estate for free. Why wouldn¡¯t I take advantage of it?¡±

    ¡°Mm. A good point. At least you won¡¯t be demanding all of them. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Only that they leave me alone.¡±

    ¡°Alright. You¡¯re being incredibly generous, but I doubt the good hunters of Quest will see it that way. To them, you¡¯re going to be no different than a monster. In my experience, the best way to get someone to accept a terrible outcome is to present a worse outcome as an alternative.¡±

    ¡°So¡­you¡¯re saying that we should go in demanding everything and let them bargain us down to what I really want.¡±

    She tips her glass toward me. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m saying. Do you really need an advisor?¡±

    ¡°I need your face more than anything else. I don¡¯t think having them speak with anyone in my clan will yield good results.¡±

    ¡°To think you only wanted me for my looks. I¡¯m hurt.¡±

    Is she¡­flirting? No, no. She¡¯s just being friendly. She¡¯s married, for saints¡¯ sake. Well, that doesn¡¯t mean anything but still. Just because I would be flirting if I said those words doesn¡¯t mean she is. ¡°Just being practical.¡±

    ¡°I see Alana is rubbing off on you.¡± More the other way around, heh. ¡°Yes. We ask for something that they absolutely cannot give us. Then, we steadily lower our position until we reach our goal. Each time we concede, they feel they win. That way, after we¡¯ve finally taken what we want, their pride is preserved.

    ¡°Remember, Lou. The worst thing you can take from a fighter isn¡¯t his sword or his home. Not even their wife, though it usually goes hand and hand with the thing they value most. It¡¯s pride, Lou. Never take someone¡¯s pride. A person needs pride in who they are. Otherwise, they will abandon that which makes them who they are. Their beliefs. Their traditions. Their morals. And without those, men become beasts and beasts don¡¯t negotiate.¡±

    Not according to Cloud. ¡°I know someone that would disagree with you.¡±

    ¡°Are they sane?¡±

    Good question. ¡°Point taken.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°The key is not to push too hard. We have to be hard and soft. We goad them by asking for the impossible, but we do it softly. Give them the impression we can be bargained down but make them work for it. Make it too easy and they¡¯ll think they can walk all over you.¡±

    ¡°Subtlety, right.¡±

    ¡°Well, it should be fairly simple. With the threat of Victory marching against them, I¡¯m sure the leaders of the city are desperate for anything that will avoid a war. They¡¯re getting the bad end of the stick with this whole thing but if they¡¯re smart, they¡¯ll swallow their losses and keep what they can.¡±

    ¡°So far, they haven¡¯t shown much intelligence.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well. As I said, no one negotiates with someone they think they can cut down. They thought they could cut you down. Now that they know better, I¡¯m confident blades will be sheathed and grudges will be shelved.¡±

    ¡°Is that what Victory taught you?¡±

    She winces. ¡°If we were dealing with northerners, I wouldn¡¯t be wasting my breath. Don¡¯t worry, Lou. This is going to be easy.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-03

    Harvest is a peaceful kingdom.

    After the Great War forcefully disbanded the ancient kingdoms and humanity was forced to find a new home, the whole of the race, I would say our race but I don¡¯t really count anymore, came together to ensure their survival. The elites of every kingdom, empire, city-state, and settlement of every size under one banner, fighting for one purpose. They could do nothing about the rampaging draconids that had taken their homes but felling the natives of the continent were well within their capabilities.

    They attacked the manabeasts, both those aggressive enough to be called monsters and those too inconvenient to let be, with a vengeance. Within a couple generations, anything that could threaten the burgeoning kingdom was either eradicated, domesticated, or chased to remote regions where they couldn¡¯t do any harm.

    Afterward establishing supremacy over the beasts, the tradition of cooperation continued. That¡¯s not to say everyone got along. Once the immediate problem of a settling of a new land was handled, the united people quickly separated into different factions and began jockeying for power. Only outright warfare was frowned upon. After several generations, aversion to war became a tradition. People simply don¡¯t fight these days.

    As such, the martial and magical masters of the present have few challenges to test themselves against. Soldiers are less dedicated than hunters when it comes to slaying manabeasts, doing so only on royal command, a process that can take up to weeks to finish, as opposed to the guilds that dispatch threats on commission from the community.

    Knight orders are a mixed bag. Most of them work for the lords that finance them and their duties reflect the ideals of said sponsor. Some are mercenaries that are paid to put down threats and police the territory. Others are symbolic orders that do good deeds to boost the reputation of the house they represent. Chivalrous knights that intervene on matters of honor, welfare knights that give basic medical care to those who can¡¯t afford or travel to a healer, and all kinds of do-gooders. With the exception of the northern orders, they can fight but they aren¡¯t defined by their martial prowess.

    The same for city guards and militia. It doesn¡¯t take much skill to chase after the odd thief or search for children that have wandered off. But between the three, there isn¡¯t much violence. Or so I thought, growing up. I¡¯ve come to question that belief in recent years. One thing in particular really. The apparent infestation of bandits on the King¡¯s Road.

    It''s not a road, but the road. It connects all the major cities of the kingdom; Summer Spire, the gleaming cesspool of a capital, Fortitude, the old capital, Quest, the city of adventure, Rosentheim, the breadbasket of the kingdom, Sleepy Harbor, the wealthiest city under the golden hand of the Guiness patriarch, and Victory, the shield of the north. If the king is the brain of Harvest, the King¡¯s Road is its heart, its lifeline.

    So why, by all the blessed saints, is it apparently crawling with a seemingly endless number of bandits, brigands, and criminals?

    It¡¯s a recent trend, I believe, as I can¡¯t remember having so many troubles while traveling as a child. Back when we were still welcomed in the Tome family¡¯s ancestral estate, traveling on the King¡¯s Road was two days of bore. There was always the threat of a manabeast attack, rare as they are that close to Summer Spire, but the worst I expected to happen in those days was a wheel breaking.

    My first misfortune on the road, my abduction at the hands of the madman Crowley Cain, wasn¡¯t enough to make me suspect a problem with the kingdom at large. Everyone can have one bad experience. Besides, said bad experience led to the greatest fortune of my life so it¡¯s hard to look at it in a bad way.

    I had further misfortunes on the road returning home from the Enchanted Forest but those I expected. Kierra draws attention wherever she goes. Curious people will do stupid things to get closer to the objects of their fascinations. It didn¡¯t help that the elf, recently freed from two decades of solitary confinement, was just as curious about them and full of energy.

    No, it¡¯s the bandits that convinced me the road is cursed. The very next time I had cause to use it, our carriage was set upon by bandits. Led by a man called Rat of all things. Not the name his mother gave him, so he claimed and I hope, but his moniker all the same.

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    A man with overdeveloped senses for both theatrics and survival. He alone was smart enough to recognize the danger of my wife when she appeared, his immediate retreat sparing him from an arrow in an uncomfortable place.

    Only to have the misfortune of waylaying us a second time as we left the capital for the Grand Hall. Again, it wasn¡¯t a horrible event, seeing as the bandits took a swift beating and I gained several servants from the encounter, but getting ambushed by brigands back-to-back is ridiculous for a supposedly safe kingdom.

    The very next time I had cause to use the road, heading north to join Victory¡¯s yearly campaign, our procession was set upon by manabeasts. Pests really, but we were attacked for the third time in as many journeys. In a supposedly safe kingdom.

    ¡°Oi, do you have gold clogging your ears?! I said get yer asses out of there, now! Lest you want your shit to come out of a few new holes!¡±

    And now, for the fourth time in a row, I am being set upon by some threat while traveling along the King¡¯s Road. This is appalling. Sure, the idiots blocking the road can only be called a threat in the very strictest definition of the word and yes, I¡¯m sure that I¡¯m the anomaly here, not the road, but it is still insulting.

    What is the king doing? Really, does the man running the kingdom do anything besides sit in a chair and look pretty? Ah, no. That would be the queen¡¯s job. So that bastard¡¯s well and truly useless.

    ¡°Oh, good.¡± Kierra reaches under the seat, where she keeps her weapons. I expect her to pull out her bow but instead, she chooses a handaxe. Seems she wants things close and bloody. ¡°The prey has come to us.¡±

    A part of me thinks I should intervene. Almost expect it of myself after my performance in Victory. Alana does as well, from the nervous way she glances between me and Kierra. Aw, my poor sweetie is worried about another fight.

    There¡¯s no need for her concern. It would seem that I have not transformed into a saint, despite my exaggerated outpouring of empathy for the hunters we decimated. The only thing I feel for the dead men walking outside my carriage is annoyance for stopping us.

    Perhaps it¡¯s because they¡¯re criminals? What I objected to most about the hunters¡¯ deaths was that they were innocents. People dragged into a conflict they didn¡¯t understand as the unwitting tools of an egomaniac. I saw myself in them. A selfish reason to want to preserve lives but the best I can manage, it seems. I see nothing of myself in bandits.

    There is also a small kernel of excitement at the thought of Kierra laying waste to them. There¡¯s a chance that the act will make her feel better when nothing else has. Savage she may be, my wife is not one for rampant slaughter. She does, however, take a perverse pleasure in slapping down unworthy challengers. I am more than willing to sacrifice a few ruffians for her smile.

    Seems I¡¯m still far from being a good person.

    ¡°A moment, everyone.¡±

    The crowded carriage turns to Yulia. She smiles at us and bounces Allen in her lap, drawing happy giggles from the boy. ¡°I take it from the weapon in Kierra¡¯s hand, you¡¯re intending for this encounter to come to a violent end?¡±

    ¡°That is how these things go,¡± I say. I would expect someone from the north to understand as much.

    ¡°Normally, yes, but that is the kind of thinking we¡¯re trying to move away from, isn¡¯t it? This is an excellent opportunity to practice our diplomatic skills.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t negotiate with bandits,¡± Alana says slowly, her opinion of the suggestion evident from her tone.

    ¡°These types are not worth the words,¡± Kierra agrees. I think I can see the hint of a scowl in her furrowed brows. Someone is looking forward to the bloodshed.

    ¡°Few criminals are worth the effort, as you say. If people only got what they deserved, there would be no need for things like mercy and salvation. The guilds of Quest hardly deservediplomacy, being a glorified gang whose agents have made an attempt on your life, but we¡¯re striving for it anyway, aren¡¯t we?¡± Her smile widens, becoming almost blinding. ¡°It isn¡¯t a common response to banditry but those who rise above common behavior are the ones we admire.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t particularly care to be admired by the masses.¡± I care about the opinions of my wives and my clan, who I know won¡¯t think less of me for disregarding the fates of those wanting to rob me.

    ¡°I could use the practice.¡±

    ¡°More like you want to show off,¡± Alana grumbles.

    ¡°¡­the snow bunny has a point.¡± Kierra returns her weapon to its siblings. She glances at Yulia before facing me with a grin. ¡°It would be good to see her tongue in action.¡±

    Damn my dirty mind for the places it takes me. My elf doesn¡¯t make it any easier. She knew exactly what those words would do to me.

    She doesn¡¯t expect what they¡¯d do to Alana. The knight-to-be leans toward the elf and practically growls in her ear, ¡°Don¡¯t even joke about that. I don¡¯t want that pervert getting any ideas.¡±

    Kierra is unbothered by the inherent threat in the words, putting their heads together and lowering her voice. ¡°Make me.¡±

    ¡°Alright!¡± I say a bit hastily, eager to get Yulia out of the carriage so the conversation between my wives, one pending, can escalate. ¡°Show us what you can do.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Now, to make this work, I¡¯m going to need a few things.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-04

    Unfortunately, I do not get to watch Alana and Kierra¡¯s ¡°conversation¡±. Yulia convinces me to accompany her out of the carriage. Certainly not as a deterrent. Geneva, who is sitting on the driver¡¯s bench, is more than capable of that. I suppose she wants me to watch her work from up close. I don¡¯t mind. It¡¯s not where I want to be but listening in is a thrill of its own.

    I¡¯m surprised Yulia takes Allen though. It¡¯s good for my entertainment, as I suspect Alana would be much less susceptible to Kierra¡¯s charms with the large, innocent eyes of a child watching on, but worrying. The boy isn¡¯t in any danger, unless there¡¯s a cohort of master casters lying in wait, but I¡¯m surprised a mother would take the chance, no matter how remote.

    She must be very confident in our abilities, a not altogether unreasonable possibility. Or perhaps she wants me to think she has such confidence in us. An action that makes sense if I look at it from Alana¡¯s perspective of her sister.

    Trust begets trust. Such an overbearing gesture of vulnerability would inspire warm feelings in all but the coldest heart. But to risk her son for such a reason? Maybe I¡¯m too trusting when it involves a pretty face, but I can¡¯t imagine such a thing.

    The bandits are nothing to speak of, common examples of their kind. Men, most of them young and foolish, stand behind the charismatic leader, distinguishable from the other riff-raff by his place of prominence at the front of the group blocking the road and his nice leather vest.

    He isn¡¯t like the bandits in bawdy tales, with a head of lush hair and a charming grin. In fact, he has no hair at all. His rather plain face is made distinctive by a long scar by one eye and his smile is mangled, the expected result of a life of violence and no access to an accomplished healer.

    Like the other times I¡¯ve been waylaid by brigands, more of their number lie in wait out of sight. They¡¯ve gone the extra step to block our retreat as well. Measures that will do them no good, as we¡¯ve no intention of running but it speaks to their level of organization. That¡¯s part of my problem with the whole situation. Rat and his bandits were quite organized as well. It says a lot that so many criminals have the leeway to organize.

    The leader¡¯s stern expression softens with confusion as we approach, his eyes on Yulia. Surprised to see such a beauty? Or is he surprised to see a young mother and her son? Is that a shred of humanity I see in the scourge of society? Amusing.

    And another possible explanation for the boy¡¯s presence. Though bringing her son to give her an edge in negotiation is probably worse than bringing him to endear herself to me.

    ¡°Good afternoon, gentlemen,¡± Yulia starts, greeting them as if the crowd before her aren¡¯t holding weapons and grim intentions.

    ¡°Afternoon, milady,¡± the bandit leader says gruffly. ¡°There¡¯s no need for things to get nasty¡ª"

    ¡°Wait a bit, boss,¡± one of his lackeys says, cutting him off. Baldy Bandit doesn¡¯t like that. And I don¡¯t like the new speaker. He¡¯s a much better fit for the randy rogue that seduces maidens before robbing their fathers blind, with a passably attractive face and the expected head full of dark hair.

    He¡¯s nothing compared to Lancecain, the saintly knight with a face that could make a young lady forget her modesty, but he beats out Mr. Talented, the man who thinks himself the star of his own epic. Though the lackey¡¯s leer ruins his appearance. For me, the man goes from inconsequential to disgusting as he eyes Yulia like a piece of meat.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Perhaps the little lady would like to pay us another¡ªgah!¡±

    His disgusting suggestion is cut off by a sharp smack to the back of the head, delivered by Baldy.

    ¡°Forgive the boy, milady. Does too much thinking with ¡®is second brain.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯m not offended.¡±

    Baldy dips his head in acknowledgment. ¡°There will be none of that on my watch. We are just here to collect our due and we¡¯ll move on.¡±

    ¡°And how much is your due?¡±

    ¡°Fifty gold pieces. Should be nothing for a fine lady like yourself.¡±

    Nothing, he says. A laborer in my father¡¯s village would be lucky to see ten gold pieces after a year of hard work. After expenses, saints forbid for a whole family, they¡¯d be lucky to put away a few bronze crowns every month. Ten gold is a lifetime¡¯s savings for the average person. It¡¯s not an insignificant amount for quite a few nobles. Having a title doesn¡¯t guarantee money, as I can certainly attest.

    This bastard just casually asked for five times that much.

    Yulia isn¡¯t happy with the number either. ¡°Surely you jest.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve a lot of mouths to feed.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then you see the lives of your men as your responsibility?¡±

    ¡°We may be outlaws but we aren¡¯t savages. Most the time.¡± He gives the lackey who spoke up before a look, causing the young man to shrink away.

    ¡°That¡¯s good. If you were a heartless criminal, I would have felt bad for taking a chance on you. As you say, I am a lady. Perhaps you will recognize at least one of my names. Yulianna Eleanor James. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡±

    Baldy¡¯s thick brows furrow. ¡°James? As in¡­the ducal family?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. My father is the current duke.¡±

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯re scared of your daddy, girl?¡± the lackey from before asks. ¡°All I hear is you¡¯re worth a lot more than fifty gold.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but your leader hears that I am a daughter from a territory famed for its many and ferocious fighters. He is also wondering if the daughter of the duke would travel from her home unattended. The answer is no. Several master casters are waiting to kill you and all your men. My goodwill is the only thing staying their hands.¡±

    ¡°Horseshit.¡± The lackey glances between his boss and Yulia, growing more uncomfortable by the second with Baldy¡¯s silence. ¡°Boss?¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t see any knights.¡±

    ¡°And if you do, they will be the last thing you see.¡± Yulia smiles. ¡°Luckily for you, sir, I am traveling with my little boy. This is his first time outside of Victory and I would rather we didn¡¯t have to spill any blood. A reward for your meritorious deeds, no doubt.¡±

    The bandit leader is struggling. He doesn¡¯t want to give up what looks like an easy payday. His brigands also seem ready to pounce, many growing agitated by the lack of action. To back down now will undoubtedly cause friction in his organization.

    On the other hand, Baldy seems to be quite familiar with Victory¡¯s reputation and doesn¡¯t want to take the risk that Yulia is telling the truth. Which she is.

    ¡°I see we are at a bit of an impasse. As such, I have a proposal.¡±

    I see. Tell them they¡¯re going to die, then make a second suggestion. No matter what she suggests now, it¡¯ll seem reasonable. Downright appealing given the alternative.

    ¡°You say it¡¯s your job to fill hungry mouths and so that¡¯s what you shall do. You all will be our guests for the night for a good meal, a drink, and a little conversation. Come morning, we¡¯ll depart as friends and a fine gentleman like yourself would see his friends off safely, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°¡­we would be honored, milady.¡±

    Huh. That actually went surprising well. When she suggested a meal to stave off a bandit attack, I thought she was mad, but here¡¯s a result, just as she promised. She told him he could either have death or a warm meal and she said it with a confidence that left no room for doubt.

    Between the two, it¡¯s obvious which one a sane man would pick. His subordinates don¡¯t agree but Baldy quiets their grumbles with a glare that he sweeps along the crowd.

    When they¡¯ve quieted down, he turns back to Yulia. ¡°If you and your escorts would come with us milady, we will show you a good place to camp for the night.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-05

    ¡°Negotiating sucks.¡±

    ¡°This is what you wanted, Lou,¡± Alana says mercilessly, walking ahead of me as we trek through a field, searching for signs of prey. Inviting the bandits to dinner means we¡¯re doing the cooking and that¡¯s a lot of mouths to feed.

    I thought Kierra would handle the hunting, as she¡¯s the one who usually puts fresh meat on the table, but she passed the task to me. Alana joined, claiming she wanted to stretch her legs. I think it was just to evade Kierra¡¯s amorous attentions but didn¡¯t refuse, happy for the company.

    ¡°Negotiation means both parties give up something. Whether that¡¯s gold or their time fetching dinner.¡± She crouches. I look over her shoulder to see what¡¯s caught her attention but can¡¯t make out anything of note in the grass and dirt. After a moment, she stands up and starts walking with new direction. ¡°It means sacrificing for the greater good.¡±

    I suppose it would be childish to say I don¡¯t want to make sacrifices for the greater good. After all, that option was available to me, both in regard to the bandits and the March. I¡¯m the one insisting we practice saintly virtues and save lives.

    Scrounging up dinner for a few dozen men is not that great a sacrifice. While their deaths wouldn¡¯t have weighed heavily on my mind, I¡¯d be lying if I said I¡¯m not happier with them alive. Their leader, despite being a scoundrel, is a perfectly polite man. I dare call him a gentleman. Reminds me of my servants, lost souls dragged into a life of criminality who could be much more if given a proper chance. Maybe I should make him a job offer, heh.

    Though if there is one thing that irks me about the situation¡­ ¡°I suppose I wish I was getting more out of this bargain. The bandits are getting a king¡¯s ransom. They get to keep their lives, they get a meal cooked by Geneva, and they get to bask in the presence of several beautiful women. What do I get? Extra work and a clear conscience. Seems unbalanced.¡±

    Alana hums. ¡°I think any negotiation you make with anyone is going to seem unbalanced. As you say, people have very little to offer you. Money? You don¡¯t need it. Power? That¡¯s a joke. The only thing that might tempt you is a pretty face, but you do have some control when it comes to women.

    ¡°Besides, no matter what they offer, you¡¯ll always be thinking that you could take everything. That¡¯s why Victory doesn¡¯t bother with negotiations. The stronger party has the power to take everything anyway so you might as well be upfront about it.¡±

    That¡¯s a surprisingly good point. ¡°Suppose that¡¯s what makes a saint a saint. Having the power to do whatever and choosing to do good.¡±

    ¡°Comparing yourself to the saints now?¡±

    ¡°There are worse goals to aspire to.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Think I¡¯ve got something.¡± She waves me over to examine a set of tracks. Hoof prints and rather large ones at that. Some kind of herd beasts? Must be traveling north, following the progress of the coming spring. Cloud only talks about her brethren and I remember her saying that creatures follow their food. ¡°I¡¯m ready to start cheating.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± I turn my thoughts away from venison to her slight frown.

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    ¡°Melding. I¡¯m ready to start cheating.¡± She looks up at me. ¡°Forget making a little outpost past the Peaks. We¡¯ve got one year before we have to help the armies of Victory push further than they ever have and figure out what¡¯s going on with these estrazi. Goals that may or may not involve fighting an army that they¡¯ve had five hundred years to build with impunity and fighting a dragon. In light of that, being concerned about shortcuts to power seems ridiculous. So¡­¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have convince me. But when you say you¡¯re ready to cheat, does that mean you want to be like me or¡ª"

    ¡°No. Not that there¡¯s anything wrong with you.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°I¡­don¡¯t like the idea of changing that much. Temporary stuff for, eh-hem, a bit of fun is fine, but I like being¡­me.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡± I do. I could be anything I want with an ease that makes literal shapeshifters envious, but I still cling to the face I was born with, minus a few minor alterations.

    ¡°I just want to be stronger, faster. Ancestors, it feels stupid saying that out loud.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot less stupid when it¡¯s possible. Hm. Sounds to me like you want to keep doing what you¡¯re doing but more intensely.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    ¡°¡­you do understand that it¡¯s not going to be easy?¡± Kierra pushes people¡¯s limits but doesn¡¯t knowingly push beyond them. Whatever pace she¡¯s set for Alana¡¯s melding, it¡¯s tailored to her endurance, mental if not physical. Pushing beyond those will have repercussions.

    ¡°Dragons, Lou. I don¡¯t need easy. I need results. And so do you.¡±

    I grunt in acknowledgment. This body of mine was designed to wrestle my wife, an elf with a pure physical affinity. As Kierra can handle anything this continent can throw at her, I thought that I could handle the same. The north was quick to correct me.

    Titans are creatures beyond common sense. Aside from their massive sizes, and I do mean massive,there is something strange about their magic. My oozey self, that I had thought was immune to magic, could not withstand one of their spells. The goliath we fought was so large, my strength meant nothing. On top of that, it carried an army on its back.

    I wasn¡¯t so arrogant as to think that I sat at the pinnacle of the world. As a bald bastard with a complex about touching the ground once said, no matter how strong you are, there¡¯s always a dragon above you. One day, that phrase may not apply to me. I was willing to take my time getting there because I assumed I wouldn¡¯t need more strength than I currently have for a long time. How wrong I was.

    ¡°Tracks are headed this way,¡± I grumble, eager to change the subject before we can delve further into my naive arrogance. Alana obliges me with only the slightest smirk. ¡°Be good to get back home.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I thought I would enjoy our vacation more.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°You call that a vacation?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you called it. A romantic stroll through the snow, you said.¡±

    Ah. ¡°I had no idea what I was talking about. Don¡¯t comment on that.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t going to.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±

    ¡°Really? Even though I¡¯m your future saint?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the main one that objects to me calling you that.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to stop?¡±

    ¡°Give me something better.¡±

    ¡°Who gives themselves a nickname? So embarrassing.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Smiling, I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together. She raises her brows but doesn¡¯t pull away. Rather, she leans into me. Tracking down prey to slaughter and feed to a group of bandits isn¡¯t the best idea for a date but it¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve had any time alone. I miss our hours together as initiates and our lunches. For that matter, I miss my time in the Enchanted Forest with Kierra, doing nothing but indulging in each other¡¯s company all day.

    We may have to fight a war in a year and perhaps I can¡¯t give in to my hedonistic tendencies all day in preparation for it, but saints as my witness, I¡¯m not going to sit around in a house full of beautiful lovers and not enjoy them.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking something indecent, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. Just reminding myself of my blessings. This last year was the best year of my life. I¡¯m determined to make the next even better, war and all.¡±

    Alana¡¯s smile lights up her eyes. ¡°You know damn well that wasn¡¯t what you were actually thinking.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-06

    ¡°It¡¯s the lumber, you see.¡±

    Alana and I managed to find the animal at the end of the tracks we found and, as usual, Geneva made a feast fit for gods from the meat. We don¡¯t have much shroom juice left over, having sold most of it in the north, but there¡¯s enough to put a cup in each man¡¯s hand after watering it down. It¡¯s not like they have the constitution of me or my elf. I¡¯ll be surprised if they can get through a single barrel.

    Baldy seems to be handling his drink well, two cups having just given his sun-tanned skin a slight flush. He¡¯s seated by a fire with myself and Alana. Geneva is standing alone, managing the food. Kierra is amusing herself goading the bandits into arm-wrestling. Yulia is in the carriage with Bell, settling her son for the night.

    With good food and drink in them, the criminals make good company. The bandit leader¡¯s manners haven¡¯t abandoned him and seeing as we¡¯re sharing a camp, I thought he might be able to ease my curiosity about the curse of the King¡¯s Road.

    ¡°All of us are from Timberstrand.¡± It occurs to me I don¡¯t know the man¡¯s name. Did anyone ask for it? Yulia must have. She¡¯s too considerate not to. I¡¯ll have to ask her if she rejoins us. ¡°Lot of us worked in the yards, cutting logs. City lives off its wood. Whole kingdom loves the stuff. Too bad there¡¯s only so much wood and it takes trees an age to grow again. The Rosefields put a ban on logging. Said we can only cut down so many trees a year and any more is illegal. Bah!¡±

    Baldy drains his cup. Alana refills it from the bottle at her feet, already mixed with water, and he nods in thanks. ¡°If they¡¯re cutting down less trees, they need less men to do it. Need less men to haul it too. Suddenly, we all found ourselves with no work and the same responsibilities. Tragic, eh?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunate,¡± I agree.

    ¡°And thieving was the first thing that came to mind?¡± Alana says, her tone still courteous but her eyes narrowed.

    ¡°No, milady, I wouldn¡¯t have gone straight to thievin¡¯. Looked for work everywhere but wasn¡¯t anything for a common man with common skills.¡±

    ¡°I thought the lands around Rosentheim were full of farms,¡± I question. ¡°I¡¯m sure they could use plenty of hands.¡±

    ¡°Sure. Come time for harvest, there¡¯s never enough hands and plenty of work for everyone. Long as you don¡¯t mind hard labor, long hours, and shit pay. Can barely feed yourself on what they offer, let alone a family. Still leaves you screwed for the rest of the year. Could be the best farmhand in the kingdom and it wouldn¡¯t be worth a crown to the Rosefields. They own all the farms and the people who run them are families that have been doing so for so many generations, they¡¯re born green. Er, not really.¡±

    He glances over his shoulder at Kierra, the elf with a literal green pallor. ¡°Thing is, it¡¯s not something one can work their way into to. Can¡¯t even buy into it, which really says nothing. Anybody that wants to own and work their own land has to go way beyond the family¡¯s territory. Settle something wild. But then they¡¯re stuck between the manabeasts and the clans, crazy bastards. Almost as bad as the raiding parties from Graywatch.¡±

    Let¡¯s see. In one direction, there is a trend of unemployment. In the other, the clans, the group that raised a savage like Kalise that may as well be the closest human equivalent to an elf. In the other direction, there are the raiders of the seaside city, the land-bound counterparts of the pirates. The final direction is a life of crime.

    Put in that light, their life choices are a lot more understandable. Except, I can¡¯t help thinking their views are too narrow.

    There has to be work for strong able-bodied men somewhere in the kingdom. Perhaps not in the capital, too many have already gone there to seek their fortunes. Maybe in Sleepy Harbor? As the center of the Guiness family¡¯s trade empire, there¡¯s sure to be work shuffling cargo to and fro. Or, if they are truly desperate, they could always join the north for campaigns. If it¡¯s enough for acolytes to pay the tuition of the Grand Hall, it¡¯s enough to support a family if spent well, bolstered by a few odd jobs.

    At the end of the day, robbing hapless travelers is simply easier, isn¡¯t it? Why do backbreaking labor or risk their lives against powerful manabeasts when they can make fifty gold in one day by threatening a carriage full of women and a young boy? The thought is enough to stop any sympathy I might feel for the bandit from growing out of control.

    ¡°Lot of my men were causing trouble in the city. Before the lord cracked down on us, I gathered the more sensible ones and took our act to the road. We shake down a few people that can afford to spare a little gold and the kingdom remains peaceful.¡±

    ¡°You call fifty crowns a little gold?¡±

    ¡°You were supposed to offer whatever you did have in a panic.¡±

    ¡°And we look like we can spare the wealth?¡± Alana asks with a scoff, unimpressed by his sad story.

    ¡°Yeah, with that fancy carriage. Riding around in that without any visible knights is just begging to be robbed.¡±

    Could my misfortune on the King¡¯s Road be my own fault?! The carriage isn¡¯t that fancy and we have a good reason why we aren¡¯t traveling with an escort.

    ¡°Fooled me good though.¡± The bandit scoffs. ¡°Master casters, huh. Ah, well. This is the best meat and drink I¡¯ve ever had so I suppose all¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°My sister wasn¡¯t joking about being escorted by several masters,¡± Alana says icily.

    ¡°Yeah? And where are they hiding?¡¯

    ¡°One of them is over their riling your men into beating each other half to death.¡± Alana nods her head in the direction of a friendly brawl, Kierra standing outside of the ring of brawny men wearing an amused smirk. ¡°One of them cooked that meat you¡¯re so happy with.¡± She nods toward Geneva. ¡°One of them is with my sister, the adorable little imp you might have seen scurrying around the place. And you¡¯ve been casually chatting with the last.¡± Her gaze stops on me.

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    The bandit leader looks at me, brows furrowing. Then he laughs. ¡°You¡¯re trying to pull one over me. Maybe the elf but not a girl that barely looks old enough to be drinking. No offense, lady.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not offended,¡± I say, motioning for Alana to pass the bottle to refill my own cup. ¡°But she¡¯s telling you the truth. Well, I¡¯m not a master caster but I¡¯m certainly as dangerous as one. I could take out you and all your men by myself.¡±

    He peers at me, trying to discern the truth of my words. I meet his stare and hold it. He¡¯s the first to look away, though there¡¯s still plenty of doubt in his expression. Not that I care. For his own sake, he had better hope he has no occasion to test the veracity of our claims.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll take this night as an opportunity for reflection and give up your thieving ways?¡± I say lazily.

    To which the bandit leader scoffs. ¡°Not unless it starts raining grain on a regular basis.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Well, you might want to take a break. With the campaigns ending, there¡¯s going to be a bunch of hunters on the road. Doubt they¡¯re going to be as understanding about things as us.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see. Thank you for the warning, milady.¡±

    Is it wise to warn the bandits and keep them on the roads longer? Perhaps not. While Baldy has been rather agreeable with us, there¡¯s no telling how he usually is. Or how he would have been if he hadn¡¯t been scared by the threat of facing master casters from the north. But right now, these men are my guests and I¡¯m not so uncouth to send a guest into possible danger.

    ¡°No worries. Here, have another drink.¡±

    ¡°Much obliged.¡±

    -

    [Master Lou.]

    A sultry whisper awakens me from murky dreams of freezing cold magic and dragonfire. The carriage is dark but a quick film corrects that, turning the gloom to shades of gray.

    I don¡¯t immediately detect any problems. Kierra is resting peacefully beneath me, arms crossed over my lower back. On the opposite bench, Yulia is lying on her side with Allen curled up against her chest. Alana is propped up against the wall, a blanket wrapped around her. My succubi should be resting on the driver¡¯s bench. They don¡¯t need sleep but they use the quiet moments to scheme. What has disturbed your quiet time, my little saint?

    [Some of the bandits have proved ungrateful for your mercy. They are organizing, preparing to storm the carriage.]

    Those little¡­after everything we did for them? I fed those bastards the fruit of my own labors and they try to ambush us in the night like¡­like¡­like a bunch of criminals. Which they are. But they¡¯re people before they¡¯re criminals or at least they should be.

    Behavior like this is just beastly. No, worse than that. Even animals know how to properly repay a kindness. I really expected more from Baldy, whose name I still don¡¯t know. So much for thinking of him as a gentleman in ungentlemanly circumstances.

    [The leader was stabbed in his sleep. He is still alive but he won¡¯t remain so without aide. The one leading the coup is this man.] The image of a middle-aged man with a square face, a severe frown, and thinning hair appears in my mind. [He is the one vying for control of the group but the one preparing to lead the assault on the carriage is this one.] The imagine is replaced by the face of the young man who practically drooled over Yulia earlier. Seems good sense and goodwill weren¡¯t enough to triumph over his base desires.

    [Do you wish for us to take care of it, Master Lou?]

    Hm. Answer a question first. Why did these bandits betray us? Or at least, betray our expectations? They have to know this is a fool¡¯s errand. I wasn¡¯t shy describing our time in the north and what we did there. Kierra demonstrated her pure affinity while healing the bandits after the bare-knuckle brawls she incited. While, to my great disappointment, they are clueless about summoning and elementals, Geneva and Bell are obviously not human, something that should make anyone with good sense very cautious.

    That combined with the tangible benefits of our goodwill should have been enough to dissuade them from violence. They don¡¯t even know how much gold we¡¯re carrying, something I made sure not to mention as our profits from selling Howie¡¯s brews could tempt a saint into thieving. So, why?

    [Have you ever touched a flame?]

    A bit random. Of course I have. What fire caster isn¡¯t interested in the subject of their magic? Saints, plenty of ordinary children stupidly stick their fingers in the pretty light.

    [Precisely. Children cannot resist a pretty flame. Intellectually, they know it is dangerous. Their parents tell them. Their friends tell them. Their community elders tell them. But still, the child can¡¯t help testing the flame themselves. Believing others exaggerate the pain. That they are tougher than others. That the reward is worth the pain. That they are special and the fire will not hurt them.]

    That¡¯s stupid.

    [Every creature has a weakness, Master Lou. For many of the short-lived races, their lack of time is one of their greatest weaknesses. They are naturally bold and shortsighted, their very beings constructed to make the most of their limited time.]

    Bold and shortsighted. Yeah, that sums up this plot. Then, no matter my restraint, no matter my goodwill, and no matter how saintly I am, it can still lead to a bloodbath?

    [Are you asking if mercy can be wasted? Or if your kindness can be returned with ill will?]

    No. The answer to those questions is obvious. I just¡­I thought¡­

    [You thought things would be different for you.]

    ¡­I see what you did there.

    [Nothing can change the nature of a creature, Master Lou. Apparently, not even being reborn through the power of what you call a god.]

    Ouch.

    [You wouldn¡¯t have to worry about these things if you weren¡¯t so strict about the use of the mental affinity. We could have learned of these men¡¯s plot before the drinks were poured.]

    Saints, I regret wasting good drink on these bastards. And once again, I¡¯ll have to refuse. I won¡¯t become another Grimoire.

    [Your compassion is a shackle.]

    One I willingly wear. Can you imagine a world where I know everything before it happens? A world where I know how every conversation starts and ends? Where I know every secret? Every question and every answer? Saints. I can¡¯t imagine anything more boring. Or disgusting.

    [There is much pleasure to be found in such a world.]

    I¡¯m not a succubus. I won¡¯t enjoy manipulating people or changing them from the inside out. And I won¡¯t give up one of the few hard morals I¡¯m actually proud of. There will be times when I have to break that stance but it won¡¯t be for a bunch of overgrown shits that aided in the murder of a man dedicated to their well-being so they could do unspeakable things to a group of women, including a young mother cuddling with her son.

    [Shall we kill them?]

    Oh. There it is. I was beginning to wonder if my empathy during the March was a fluke but the same discomfort assaults me at the thought of indiscriminately murdering the bandits. Perhaps because of the words of Baldy, a poor bastard that could die without me ever learning his true name, I don¡¯t see them as just bandits, but poor men having fallen on hard times. And because of his actions, I find it hard to envision them as irredeemable villains. The man is saving their lives twice over and his reward is bleeding out on the ground. The world can be cruel.

    I¡¯m about to contribute to that cruelty.

    They¡¯ve made themselves enemies. That means they no longer get to benefit from my mercy or my morals. Bell, kill anyone involved. By involved, I mean those who are actively participating. Knock out the ones going along with it so they aren¡¯t stabbed in their sleep, I¡¯ll think about what to do with them. Same for those who aren¡¯t going along with it, if there are any. Heal Baldy, too. He kept his end of the bargain so he gets the benefit of my mercy.

    [As you command, Master Lou.]

    As my virtue disguised as an adorable imp commences her slaughter, I close my eyes. My wife¡¯s warm arms should easily lull me to sleep but I can¡¯t ignore the sounds of slaughter outside the carriage.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-07

    I wake to the soothing motions of someone running their fingers through my hair. Hm, it¡¯s growing a bit long. I usually let it tickle the base of my neck, a length that gives the appearance of adhering to the trends of Summer Spire without it being so long it requires hours of maintenance and bags of gold to maintain. It¡¯s grown well past my shoulders.

    It¡¯s still manageable, given my household¡¯s wealth and my indulgent servants, but I don¡¯t want to let it get to the point where it¡¯s dragging on the floor. Though cutting it will be an experience. My hair was strengthened along with the rest of me. A normal blade isn¡¯t going to get the job done.

    Or maybe I should I grow it out.

    ¡°Do you think I should grow my hair out?¡± I ask no one in particular, eyes still closed to enjoy the moment for a little longer.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Kierra whispers into my ear. ¡°Long hair is normally a weakness. To grow it out is a statement of power. That even with a blatant weakness, you are still superior.¡±

    ¡°Hm. That why you keep yours long.¡±

    ¡°No. My aunt insisted. She liked to style it when I was younger. I simply became accustomed to it.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s all that crap about a power statement?¡±

    ¡°Someone once said it to me. It sounded good.¡±

    ¡°Do you just want to see with me with long hair?¡±

    ¡°Mm. I want to know how prevalent the violet becomes. The longer your hair grows, the more of it I see.¡±

    Huh. Never noticed. And now that I¡¯m having a conversation, there¡¯s no pretending to be sleep. I slowly open my eyes and greet the morning. Alana is gone but Yulia remains, seated on the opposite bench with Allen in her lap, peacefully resting on her chest. Blue eyes flick to me. The emotion within them is hard to discern but I think¡­yes, the bunny is upset with me.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± I say.

    ¡°There are several dead men outside our door,¡± she replies, shutting down my attempt at small talk. ¡°I stepped outside with Allen without knowing what was waiting for me. It was¡­upsetting.¡±

    ¡°Is that your way of asking for an explanation?¡±

    ¡°I dare not demand one.¡±

    I wince at her subtle tone. Is she suggesting I might do something to her and the boy? I¡¯m not some kind of monster. A tap on Kierra¡¯s arm gets her to retract her hold on me and I sit up, frowning at Yulia. She doesn¡¯t hold my gaze for even a second but she doesn¡¯t flinch away from me. Suppose I should be glad she¡¯s not hiding her boy from me. ¡°I¡¯m sure you remember the charmer who made you a proposition yesterday?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I assume he¡¯s one of the bodies.¡±

    ¡°Him and those with similar ideas.¡±

    Yulia sighs. ¡°It¡¯s disappointing that a single kind gesture wasn¡¯t enough to make them turn their lives around but I¡¯m not very surprised. I am surprised that you killed them.¡±

    I frown. ¡°Well, what was I supposed to do? They wanted to kill us.¡±

    ¡°Lou. There¡¯s more options than simply killing your enemies.¡±

    I stare at the bunny with incomprehension. Of course there¡¯s other ways to handle your enemies besides killing them but none are as efficient. If you imprison them, you have to keep them fed, sheltered, and happy. Beat them and humiliate them? Then you have to worry about them coming back one day with vows of revenge.

    I¡¯m not concerned about any of these men coming for me in the dead of night with a tightly held dagger but my expectations have been proved wrong before. This world is full of the impossible. There is no telling what someone with enough ambition and the right amount of luck can accomplish.

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    Much easier to put them down and bury them.

    ¡°Negotiation is a process. And given there are survivors, I assume there were those who didn¡¯t support the decision to stab us in our sleep? You could have punished the few who acted against us and renewed negotiations with those who spoke against them. Rewarding positive behavior might have changed those men. Now, they are all lost to us. We¡¯re the crazy nobles who slaughtered their friends.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my job to make them make better life choices,¡± I sneer. ¡°We gave them an opportunity. Made them dinner, for saints¡¯ sake! If they are still willing to stab us in the back after that, there¡¯s no changing them.¡±

    ¡°Do you hate people, Lou?¡±

    ¡°What? No. What does that have to do with anything?¡±

    Yulia pats her son¡¯s head. ¡°I thought I was coming because you wanted to preserve lives, but you just sentenced over a dozen men to death and slept as peacefully as Allen. Forgive me, but I¡¯m questioning our goals. Your goals.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not planning to save every lost soul in the kingdom, if that¡¯s what you were thinking,¡± I sneer, not sure why I¡¯m offended. Maybe because of all the assumptions she¡¯s making. ¡°You¡¯re here because I¡¯m not so much of a monster that I¡¯d slaughter these people without giving them a chance but if they choose to make me an enemy by launching the first attack, then let whatever happens be on their heads!¡±

    My eyes snap to Allen¡¯s wide eyes as he babbles some nonsense. Letting out a deep breath, I consciously relax my shoulders and ease backward. No scaring the child.

    Kierra¡¯s fingers trailing along my neck relaxes me further. ¡°My Lou is correct. It is not for her to save the wild dogs lacking so much sense they would bite the hand that feeds them. It is more than enough that she deigned to give them any chance at all. More than you or your family would do.¡±

    Yulia holds up the hand not cuddling her son. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m not trying to criticize. My father would have killed them all. So would my brother. Ancestors, my husband too. Compared to them, you¡¯re practically one of the saints the southerners are so fond of. And if that¡¯s all you want to be, that¡¯s fine.¡±

    That sounds like an accusation but that could just be me. Feeling unkind toward the bunny, I decide it¡¯s best to put distance between us and leave the carriage.

    The morning is bright and warm, a strong indicator of the coming spring. Despite the slaughter last night, the surroundings aren¡¯t bloody and devastated. The bodies of the dead are laid out in neat rows off the side of the road, with minimal signs of interference. The rest of the bandits are grouped together around the spent fires of last night, their shoulders hunched defensively and their eyes red from lack of sleep, I¡¯d assume.

    One of them spots me and quickly turns to his fellows. A wave goes through the criminals. Like¡­a herd of sheep shuffling and bleating softly when an unknown approaches them. I turn my gaze from them, following my nose to Geneva and the pot she¡¯s standing over. Predictably, Alana is seated on a flat stone beside her, eagerly waiting for the meal. Bell is seated in her lap, looking no less adorable after her killing spree.

    I take one step toward them before changing direction. The shuffling of the bandits intensifies upon my approach as the men take on defensive stances. A familiar face pushes to the front of the group.

    Baldy looks very much worse for wear. He¡¯s standing but moves slowly, clearly in pain. Suppose Bell¡¯s healing wasn¡¯t comprehensive. I don¡¯t blame her. I told her to make sure he lived, not heal him of every ache and pain. Succubi are not benevolent creatures. Unless directed, I don¡¯t expect them to show any unwarranted mercy.

    ¡°Milady,¡± the bandit leader says for a greeting and I can¡¯t help noticing that his tone is a lot more respectful. Or perhaps that¡¯s fear. Either way, he¡¯s taking me, and the threat I represent, a lot more seriously. Saints, why does that feel good? How in the Abyss am I supposed to save people and practice saintly virtues when being good is such a pain and doing terrible things feels damn good? Sigh.

    ¡°Good morning, gentlemen. Despite the unfortunate events of last night, I¡¯m still prepared to proceed with our original plan. That is, the lot of you getting out of our sight and reconsidering your life of crime. After all, a lot more of you could have died. If our meeting isn¡¯t a sign to change your life around, I doubt you want to see what is.¡±

    ¡°¡­as you say, milady. By your leave, we¡¯ll get moving.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let me keep you.¡±

    That settled, I walk over to Alana and breakfast. A flat stone seat rises from the ground beside her and I take the offered seat, rubbing the head of the imp in her arms. ¡°Any comments?¡±

    ¡°About?¡± Alana asks, her eyes never moving from the pot and the succubus stirring it with a stone spoon.

    ¡°The dead bandits? The not-so-dead bandits?¡±

    ¡°I can imagine what a bunch of men wanted to do with a carriage full of sleeping women. Animals like that are better put down. Those who didn¡¯t take part get to live with an exciting memory. All¡¯s fine.¡±

    How can two sisters be so different? ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°Though I hope the negotiations with the hunters goes better. A third of the bandits died for their bad decision. A third of the hunters? A third of the city? That¡¯s hundreds and thousands of casualties.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t come to that.¡± This experience has taught me a lot. ¡°Even if blood needs to be shed, we¡¯ll make it hurt so bad no one wants to pay the price, let alone a third of them.¡±

    Alana grunts, not happy about my declaration but accepting it. ¡°Time to send Yulianna home then?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. She has a role to play.¡± To be the loving mother and the beautiful rose. The one who will pat their heads and tell them it¡¯s all right after I break their collective nose and rob them blind.

    ¡°Mm. Let¡¯s just hope there¡¯s no other distractions for the rest of the journey.¡±

    Saints willing.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-08

    It always amazes me that tragedies aren¡¯t heralded by the world. The gray sky of Victory didn¡¯t darken as we marched to the Witness Circle to reap the lives of the hunters. Similarly, the blue sky above us is without a menacing cloud or sinister storm as Quest appears in the distance. Not that I hope our return to the city will be the start of another tragedy but, given my track record with the hunters, it seems foolish to pretend it¡¯s not a possibility, and a strong one at that.

    I remember being filled with awe the first time I laid eyes on the city of magic and adventure. There was much to be impressed with. From its enormous walls, that now seem rather diminutive returning from the fort that built its wall tall enough to repel titans, to the floating rock that houses the Grand Hall, and the many peculiarities in-between.

    The most notable being the Myriad Zone, a botched spell to make sunlight curve around the giant rock keeping part of the city in constant shade. The creators of the spell got the light they wanted with a very interesting condition. Said light is distorted, turning that part of the city into a colorful mess that couldn¡¯t be replicated even with hundreds of barrels of paint.

    The residents don¡¯t see it as a curse. They¡¯ve embraced the color, turning the whole area into a district dedicated to fun. The Myriad Zone is full of bars, brothels, and any other kind of amusement anyone might want. After the last couple of weeks, a jaunt through the vivid streets sounds wonderful. Just one night to forget all the woes and imminent perils before the next shitstorm sweeps me up.

    I¡¯m not the only one excited to see the city during our lunch break. Allen is a ball of energy but that¡¯s hardly worth a mention, as that¡¯s the boy¡¯s default. Yulia staring into the distance with wide eyes and a big smile is notable. I¡¯ve never seen her so happy. She¡¯s like a little girl being brought to the market for the first time.

    ¡°There¡¯s really an island in the sky! And it¡¯s so small! I thought it would be larger but it¡¯s really there! And the wall¡¯s are so cute!¡±

    Haha, she called them cute. I kind of want to hear her say that to a native to see their response. I wouldn¡¯t know about it but people give importance to the most meaningless things. I have seen men punched unconscious for pissing on a straw man that was going to be burned hours later as part of a celebration. I¡¯m thinking calling the walls cute will at least be enough to get her a few dirty looks and muttered curses.

    ¡°You live on that flying rock?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not as thrilling as you make it sound,¡± I say with a chuckle. ¡°With solid ground under your feet and the sky way above you still, it¡¯s easy to forget where you are. Honestly, I¡¯m more impressed with our house.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Is it impressive?¡±

    ¡°Compared to the crate you live in, yes. No offense.¡±

    ¡°None taken. Space is rationed more strictly than food in the north. It¡¯s why I put most of my efforts into the garden. Do you have one? I imagine it has actual flowers.¡±

    ¡°It does. I even have a gardener.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to imagine someone dedicating their lives to something as mundane as growing flowers.¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s nothing mundane about the garden. Especially Kierra¡¯s personal area. We don¡¯t let people go in there without an escort.¡±

    ¡°Are the plants that valuable?¡±

    ¡°No, they¡¯re that dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s get moving. With a little magic, you can see my garden and my gardener.¡±

    She laughs. ¡°That¡¯s a promise.¡± The snow bunny happily grabs her son, distracted by trying to catch the tail of an imp that keeps moving out of range at the last moment, and climbs into the carriage. As she disappears inside, Alana walks over, carrying a cup of¡­juice? It¡¯s something fruity. Didn¡¯t know we had anything other than water and liquor available. Knowing my succubus, she probably spotted some wild fruits and prepared it fresh.

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    ¡°Are you excited to be home?¡±

    ¡°Home,¡± my future saint drawls. ¡°Not sure what that word means anymore.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a word with a clear definition. It¡¯s something you get to choose. If you need a little direction, I don¡¯t think of the house I spent most of my life in as home. The same applies to the ancestral estate of the Tome family. Home is the place where I feel the most comfortable.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­not bad.¡± She takes a sip of her juice. Intrigued, I reach for it but she dodges my grasping hand, giving me a look. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m happy to be returning home. To the house.¡±

    ¡°Oooh. Does that mean you¡¯re living with me?¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t I already been?¡±

    ¡°Sure, under the guise of preparing for the campaign. No more excuses now.¡±

    ¡°Hmph.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Of course it¡¯s yes. I have my training to think about. And I don¡¯t think I can stomach cooking for myself anymore.¡±

    ¡°Looking for more excuses?¡±

    She pauses. Then she turns, spearing me with those big blue eyes. ¡°I want to stay with you, Lou. I can¡¯t wait to be back in our house and sleep in our comfortable bed. Beside you.¡±

    ¡°Ah, okay. I get it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. You wanted me to express myself.¡± I swallow heavily as Alana steps closer, her palm pressing against my stomach, her sweet breath filling my nose. I quiver a little as she looks up at me. ¡°You like talking about fantasies, don¡¯t you? I don¡¯t know if this counts as one but all I¡¯ve been thinking about since hitting the road is taking a nice, long bath. With everyone, like we did before Rolly¡¯s summoning.

    ¡°You¡¯ll wash my hair for me while we pretend Kierra isn¡¯t fondling Talia right in front of us. Talking about meaningless things while we ignore her beautiful little moans. Ancestors, she has an enthralling voice. If I weren¡¯t inclined toward women, listening to someone with a face like a block of ice sigh and gasp would have convinced me.¡±

    ¡°I know¡­¡±

    ¡°But you want to know what I really think about, Lou? What comes after. After Geneva dries us off, her eyes making unspoken promises. That bed is big enough for the four of us, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    ¡°Mm. Talia has been waiting for you to collect on your side of the bargain. You want that too. And there¡¯s something else you want. Something we¡¯ve both been waiting for.¡±

    I swallow as the hand on my stomach dips lower, tracing my waist. Then she steps back and takes another drink of her juice like nothing¡¯s wrong.

    Saints give me the strength, what happened to the shy girl that blushed and stuttered just admitting her feelings for me? Her face is red but she¡¯s actually smiling seeing what she does to me. I swear, she¡¯s spending too much time with a certain elf. And she wants to spend more time with her. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll survive.

    ¡°That¡¯s assuming we make it home. There¡¯s a good chance we get ambushed at the gate. If we don¡¯t, there¡¯s a better chance we get ambushed in the streets. I¡¯m sure by now word¡¯s gotten back to the guilds about the March and everything it means.¡±

    ¡°I thought we kept the hunters in Victory?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°The hunters, yes, but not the servants and laborers. Definitely not the messengers. Birds, dogs, ring-tailed mimics. Not even Geneva and Bell could hope to contain them all and information about the March would be priceless. Loyalty to the north aside, there¡¯s always going to be someone willing to be an informant for a little extra gold. The good people of Quest are undoubtedly nervous. Maybe nervous enough to think killing us before we can collect our due will solve their problem.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t they understand that hundreds of them will die if they try? And even if they succeed, the next person to come collecting will be the duke?¡±

    ¡°People don¡¯t think rationally when they¡¯re afraid.¡±

    ¡°I would rather settle this peacefully but¡ª"

    ¡°It might not be just hunters, Lou.¡± Alana cuts me off with raised brows. ¡°The city lord never rendered his verdict about your guilt. It could be the city guards stopping our carriage. Or perhaps the royal army. You are contracted to illegal elementals.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Contemplating dragons lurking in the north has pushed less world-shattering events from my mind. Like the king¡¯s apparent issue with summoners and the fact that I¡¯m currently breaking the law.

    I have a whole plan to methodically terrorize the public, save them, and raise the reputation of the kingdom¡¯s summoners but I don¡¯t know how much time I can dedicate to that. I feel a faint obligation to defend my family¡¯s traditional art, but it can wait a year or two. No one¡¯s going to care what elemental anyone has if Harvest is scorched by dragonfire.

    Well, I can still start the first part of plan. Setting the shuba loose on the public. It¡¯ll return to the house once it¡¯s filled up on negative energy, which, being in the north, I don¡¯t expect to take too long. Then, if the Dark Lord is willing to negotiate, I will unleash a horde of the little terrors throughout the land.

    I wish I could properly cackle, a sound befitting my villainous ways. I wonder if the Myriad Zone has a theater. That¡¯d be an experience, I bet.

    ¡°We could be riding into an army,¡± I sigh, staring pensively at the city.

    ¡°So we better get going.¡± She drains her cup and tosses it, the stone mug sailing through the air. She claps me on the shoulder before heading for the carriage. ¡°People make better decisions under the sun. If you think I¡¯m kidding, think of my family and Victory¡¯s always cloudy sky.¡±

    That¡­is hard logic to argue with.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-09

    There isn¡¯t an army waiting for us. Nor a pack of hunters with their magic at the ready. Not even a crowd of peasants ready to take their chances at bludgeoning me with tools or the largest stick they can find.

    The biggest reaction to my arrival is the guard taking a second too long to ask for the reason for my stay after I step out of the carriage. I¡¯m the one to step down as I would be the least affected by a surprise knife to the heart but there¡¯s no need for my sacrifice. The guards wish me a good day and we enter Quest with no issues.

    The effects of the Myriad Zone aren¡¯t stopped by being in a closed carriage. Yulia can¡¯t stop staring at herself, twisting her hand in front of her eyes while the other holds a squirming Allen in her lap. The strange color distortions change every day. This time around, the snow bunny¡¯s pale skin is painted in shades of pink, her dark hair is a bright silver, and her blue eyes are¡­blue. And so are the whites of her eyes. Huh. ¡°Having fun?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Immensely.¡± Yulia smiles with pale blue teeth. ¡°The world is such a big place, with so many fascinating things in it. It¡¯s hard to believe that most of fellow Victorians will never know anything but the looming peaks.¡±

    Victorians? Is that what they call themselves? No, no, don¡¯t laugh. If it¡¯s one thing that can offend someone, it¡¯s making fun of their identity, either personal or cultural. Few things are as important as a name. ¡°It¡¯s a fun trick the first couple of times you see it.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me you don¡¯t find this magical?¡±

    ¡°Eh. My succubus kind of ripped the awe right out of me.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Should I tell her? She¡¯s enjoying herself so much and I know how hearing the harsh truth made me feel.

    ¡°I want to know.¡±

    Well. ¡°This whole magical area is a big mistake. The result of someone¡¯s fuck up. One they couldn¡¯t fix so they leaned into it, made it all seem like one big party. Sorry, good people of Quest. We, the casters you hoped would bring you the sun, brought you a spell that paints the world in new, nauseating colors every day. But don¡¯t worry! It¡¯s fun, right? People will pay a killing to see this. Set up a few bars and you¡¯ll rake in the crowns! Hm? What¡¯s that? You just want the sun? Oh, sorry everyone but you¡¯re fucked. Can¡¯t put the spilled shroom juice back in the bottle.¡±

    ¡°Does being a mistake rob it of is splendor?¡± Yulia questions. ¡°Yes, they failed to return things to normal but in the attempt, they created something unique that has wowed everyone who lays eyes on it. Generations have appreciated this mistake and many more will in the future. This world is full of things that people don¡¯t question. Constant things. Yet here, something as constant as color is fluid.¡±

    ¡°Technically,¡± Alana grumbles, ¡°the colors don¡¯t change. How we see them does. Blue is still blue once you step out of the zone.¡±

    Her sister huffs at the explanation. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. In this city, someone can take a few steps and the whole world changes. The people here¡­their concept of what is possible is so much wider than anywhere else. Their imaginations are so much wider. In that light, the mistake is better than what they intended, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Alana huffs. ¡°I think you¡¯re making a mountain out of a shitheap. This isn¡¯t a city of intellectual or artistic prodigies that will change the world after having their imaginations expanded. It¡¯s full of common people that will be lucky to live a common life. I bet this magical mistake is as common as the Enchanted Forest is to elves. We might be amazed by pink and purple trees but for the people that live there, it¡¯s the same as Victory¡¯s gray skies. You get used to it.¡±

    ¡°The star is right,¡± Kierra adds lazily, eyes closed as she leans her head against the wall. ¡°Creatures can become used to anything. As eyes adjust to bright light, they can adjust to beauty. Beautiful things become common. Common things become ugly and distasteful. To truly inspire requires something deeper than, hm, merry colors. But what lies beneath the Myriad Zone is a mistake. Ineptitude. Failure and then a failure to correct that failing.¡±

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    Yulia winces. ¡°You all are a little gloomy. I expect as much from Alana, but I thought people from the south would be more cheerful.¡±

    [We are at the platform, my summoner.]

    ¡°Hold that thought.¡± I exit the carriage, taking a moment to brace myself against the dizzying array of colors. We are stopped just before the platform that will take us to the Hall, a group of casters dressed in the unassuming robes of acolytes blocking the way. ¡°Hello, gentlemen. We¡¯re¡ª"

    ¡°No need to introduce yourself,¡± one of them interrupts. ¡°Lady Lourianne Tome. Welcome back to the Hall. We¡¯ll send you on your way.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright.¡± I climb back into the carriage, sitting down with a frown. ¡°Am I being overly sensitive, or did he seem especially eager to get us moving?¡±

    ¡°His tone was quite hurried,¡± Kierra confirms, her eyes opening as she sits up.

    ¡°Your¡­fight with the hunters disrupted the city. The March can be an event that sparks a civil war. The Grand Hall may be intending to remain a neutral bystander to the ensuing events, but it would be stupid not to keep themselves appraised of the situation.¡± Yulia frowns. ¡°If so, there¡¯s a good chance their men on the ground have valuable information. I don¡¯t suppose you saw any familiar faces?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. And before you ask, I¡¯m not confident in getting anything out of them without the use of force. My reputation wasn¡¯t good before this mess. I don¡¯t want to imagine what they¡¯re saying about me now.¡±

    [Shall I scour their minds?]

    You¡¯re going to keep asking me things like this no matter how many times I say I don¡¯t want to use the mental affinity wantonly, aren¡¯t you?

    [It is my nature to tempt. The opportunity is fleeing.]

    Let it go.

    A moment after I give my order, the carriage jolts, the signal that we¡¯re rising. Allen yelps and Yulia holds him closer. Won¡¯t be long until we¡¯re home now. The first thing on the agenda is to relax. Alana¡¯s earlier teasing has me craving soap and warm water something fierce.

    In the morning, we¡¯ll have to check the estate. Make sure no one took advantage of our absence to do something stupid. Kierra will want to check on her garden. I have to make arrangements for my first year as an acolyte, namely registering with the Summoner Hall. I¡¯ll finally have access to the largest collection of summoning records in the kingdom. Hopefully, there¡¯ll be a reference to Cosmo in there. Maybe a few classes in a few more obscure magical disciplines. Or nonmagical ones. May as well make the most of the tuition.

    Then I¡¯ll have to see to the less mundane issues. Starting with gathering the guilds for a conversation. A hard one. Saints willing, getting them to sit at a table will be the hardest part. There¡¯s a chance they want nothing to do with me but, if Alana¡¯s right and information about the March has reached the guildmasters, they might be eager to talk.

    They won¡¯t be as eager when we get to the negotiations. It¡¯s going to be hard for everyone, but mostly for them. I don¡¯t expect it to be quick or painless. And when it¡¯s done, it¡¯ll leave a wound that¡¯ll take years to recover from. Maybe decades, if they can recover at all.

    It¡¯ll be wonderful if the situation is resolved with a round of talks. If it isn¡¯t, I don¡¯t know if we¡¯ll let Victory march or handle it ourselves. The first option is more likely to end with a surrender but will provoke a response from the crown. The second will prevent any chance of civil war, but the guilds are far more likely to fight if they¡¯re only facing a handful of combatants. They¡¯ve already shown that they will underestimate me, regardless of the consequences.

    Either way, I¡¯ll have a break to address the matter of bettering myself. Exploring my affinities and this body¡¯s capabilities. Practicing my shapeshifting. Some spars with Kierra. Real ones instead of the usual ¡°foreplay¡±.

    Somewhere in there I¡¯ll have to fit in writing a letter home. My ancestor wrote a journal chronicling a journey north to speak the estrazi, more commonly known as the Lords of Winter. It was offensively short on detail. Unbecoming of a summoner. More importantly, summoners do not give away their records, of any kind, to outsiders. It stays in the family.

    I have a theory that my ancestor wrote that little summary to appease his employers, the James of the time, but recorded a more detailed account of their journey later. If so, that record will be in the family library, waiting to be rediscovered. It¡¯s a favor Father won¡¯t be too bothered to grant, I think. And I suppose I should let him know I¡¯m alive after participating in a northern campaign. He¡¯s not aware of my constitution so he might¡­be worried.

    I could invite him to the Grand Hall. He¡¯s a very capable summoner, which makes him a very capable researcher. He could help with searching the records of the Summoner Hall. I know he¡¯d be fascinated with my impending trade with the Dark Lord and we could work on the mystery of our ancestor together.

    Working together with my father as fellow summoners, huh.

    Never thought the day would come but¡­I think I¡¯d like that.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-10

    The sun is setting as we arrive home. A warm feeling rapidly builds in my chest, threatening to erupt as I step off the carriage in front of the estate. I¡¯ve heard songs that claim that the best part of a journey is returning home. I understand those words now. Even taking into account how horrible the north is, coming home takes a weight off my shoulders I didn¡¯t even know I was carrying.

    The door is thrown open and a shape comes sprinting out of the house. I grin and hold out of my arms as Anna launches herself at me with enough force to knock a normal person off their feet.

    ¡°Lady Lou!¡± My youngest servant wraps her little legs around me for purchase before leaning back, looking up at me with sparkling eyes. Someone has tamed the wild blonde mess of her hair with a pair of scissors and her uniforms is spotless, the golden buttons actually gleaming despite the fading light. She smiles at me, big and innocent. A rare thing from the beastly bandit-in-training I picked up. ¡°You came back.¡±

    ¡°Of course I did. I¡¯m pretty strong, you know?¡±

    ¡°Anna, you¡¯re being rude.¡± Earl is the next to leave the house and he does so at a much more sedate pace. He looks well but that¡¯s not surprising. He always looks well, never a hair out a place or a wrinkle in his jacket. Earl gently but firmly grabs his sister, setting her on the ground before bowing toward me. ¡°Welcome home, my lady. I¡¯m overjoyed to see you in good health.¡±

    ¡°Good to see you¡¯re doing well too, Earl. The house looks well.¡± I half-expected to come back to a battlefield but the garden isn¡¯t torched, the front door isn¡¯t hanging off its hinges, and the windows haven¡¯t been broken. Not so much as a corner of paint is chipped. ¡°Did you have any problems?¡±

    ¡°Mistress Talia entertained many visitors but none caused a disturbance.¡±

    ¡°What kind of visitors? No. That can wait. First, the presents.¡± Right on time, Geneva appears at my side with two bags, one twice the size of the other. She drops them in front of Anna before returning to the carriage. ¡°You asked for bones. The smaller bag has a bunch of different bones, mostly from birds, but the big one is special. Bones from a goliath. Monster big as our house. Maybe bigger. Can only be found very far north, past the biggest mountains in the kingdom.

    Anna mutters excitedly as she reaches for her bags but at the last moment she stops. She quickly glances at her brother¡¯s quietly expectant gaze before bowing her head. ¡°Thank you, Lady Lou.¡±

    Aw. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. And now you.¡± Geneva once again returns with perfect timing, dropping a long chest before my steward. ¡°You asked for decorations. Let me tell you, Victory is the wrong place to go shopping. They don¡¯t believe in color. Or style. Or happiness.¡± I clear my throat. ¡°Not important. What they do well is furs. So.¡±

    I motion for him to open the chest. Inside is a folded black fur rug and a several more furs in suitably drab colors. I was thinking they could be added to a nice coat. Not sure if the boy feels the cold anymore, he certainly doesn¡¯t give any indication of being troubled by the cool evening, but he deserves one. ¡°The rug is for your room if you want, the others to be used as you will.¡±

    Earl¡¯s lips turn up the slightest amount as he closes the chest, picking it up with one hand and his sister¡¯s bags with the other. ¡°Thank you for the gifts, my lady. We are humbled by your care.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. And spend some of your gold. I don¡¯t mind bringing back souvenirs but only you know what you like. Besides, what do I pay you for if you don¡¯t spend the money?¡±

    ¡°As you say. If you will allow me a moment to put these away, I will return with haste.¡±

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    ¡°Go on.¡±

    With a bow his sister is quick to copy, my young steward heads for the house. Has he gotten taller again? I swear he has. What is this emotion? It¡¯s pride but it¡¯s bittersweet. Was it really only a year ago that I picked up the little troublemakers? How far they are from the dirty, scared children I detained on the King¡¯s Road, the brother desperately holding onto his sister. I wonder if I¡¯m doing right by them.

    ¡°There is no need to worry, my summoner. Their loyalty has been encouraged but their adoration of you is quite natural.¡± Her tail swings as Bell scampers about the carriage, unloading the luggage. ¡°Family is important to them. You are their family now. One day, their family left and never came back. They feared the same would happen to you. Coming back is more than enough for them.¡±

    The bittersweet feeling in my chest becomes more bitter than sweet. Those two have really had a rough time of it, haven¡¯t they? But they¡¯re better now. At least I¡¯ve made things better for someone. Never mind that Earl has a succubus meddling with his mind and Anna¡¯s wild tendencies are being nurtured rather than cured. I¡¯d wager my steward is more capable, mentally and physically, than any other young man his age and his sister¡¯s tendency to growl gives the girl character.

    ¡°So this is your home.¡±

    Yulia¡¯s words are full of appreciation as she steps off the carriage and comes to stand beside me. Allen is nodding off in her arms and not even the grand sight of our home can stir his interest. ¡°What do you even do with so much space?¡±

    ¡°You find things to do. Starting with everyone having their own room. For you and Allen, if you prefer.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. We¡¯re fine with one room but I don¡¯t suppose you have place for him to play? I wouldn¡¯t want him to mess up anything important.¡±

    ¡°We can set something up. Oh! Perhaps Mr. Self-Made can make himself useful for once.¡± Isn¡¯t he a carpenter¡¯s apprentice? In his family¡¯s business. Quite a successful one if they were granted a last name. I¡¯m sure he can put together a wooden pen to keep the boy out of trouble. Of course, Kierra could fuse a few branches together in a fraction of the time but she¡¯s not one for normal aesthetics.

    ¡°Mister who?¡±

    ¡°No one important. So, a place to play for Allen. Maybe some toys. Do you need anything?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to go out of your way. Hopefully, we won¡¯t be intruding for too long.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s right.¡± Alana is the next to step down from the carriage, quickly followed by Kierra. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want her to get too comfortable. She might not want to leave.¡±

    I turn my head to hide a wince. Alana is as harsh with her sister as ever. However, her concerns might not be unfounded. It¡¯s obvious to anyone with eyes that the snow bunny is enjoying her time outside the tall walls of her home. If she weren¡¯t a James, I¡¯d be concerned, but a James always chooses Victory. She¡¯ll go home if only because she thinks she doesn¡¯t have a choice. And unlike her sister, I don¡¯t plan to marry her so I¡¯m in no rush to convince her otherwise.

    Yulia pouts but before she can respond, Earl exits the house, along with someone else. I smile as Miss Talia strides over to us with the grace to rival any noblewoman. I¡¯m happy to see she¡¯s done away with the plain robes she used to prefer, her new ability to appreciate color opening her up to the joys of good fashion.

    Today she¡¯s wearing a lovely white and yellow robe that seems to be beckoning spring to come quicker. Her inverted eyes, black where the whites should be paired with milky irises, are open, glowing brightly with her actively channeled mana. Yulia sucks in a sharp breath seeing them for the first time and her arms tighten around her son. Really? A woman from the north is scared by a pair of eyes?

    Talia¡¯s lips turn up the slightest amount, unrecognizable to those that aren¡¯t familiar with her. To my surprise and joy, she smoothly wraps her arms around me. ¡°Welcome back, Lou,¡± she says in that wonderful voice of hers. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re safe.¡±

    Wow. She¡¯s really been practicing her role as a flower. That almost sounded genuine. Not that I doubt she¡¯s happy to see me, but her tone rarely contains any emotive quality.

    Still needs some work though. I can practically hear her counting the seconds, making sure she¡¯s held me for a proper length of time before letting go. She turns to Alana and, after a brief moment to gage her response, hugs her as well. Lastly, she goes for Kierra, who forgoes the embrace to lock lips, pulling Talia against her.

    ¡°Um.¡± Yulia glances around with clear questions in her eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s Talia,¡± Alana answers for the woman with her mouth currently too occupied to introduce herself. ¡°The mistress.¡±

    ¡°Kierra¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­okay.¡±

    ¡°Come on. We should talk inside. I¡¯m starving and I know someone¡¯s been looking forward to a long bath.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-11

    Half an hour later, the four of us are relaxing in my bath. Alana is lounging in what is her usual place between my legs, looking one quiet minute from sleep. Kierra and Talia are on the opposite side of the bath, the ex-dorm mother leaning on Kierra¡¯s shoulder, an arm wrapped around the elf¡¯s toned stomach.

    Yulia wasn¡¯t invited. I¡¯m sure that would have been a¡­tantalizing situation but I still have a sense of the inappropriate. Besides, I don¡¯t want her to get the wrong idea. The snow bunny is a beautiful woman and I¡¯m sure everyone knows that I¡¯m weak to a pretty face, but it won¡¯t happen. It can¡¯t, for more reasons than Alana disapproving of her sister.

    I suspect that Yulia is¡­different from us. In a fundamental way. I don¡¯t think that difference is something sinister, as Alana keeps trying to convince me, but we think differently. Want different things and go about getting them in different ways. She wouldn¡¯t be a good match for my house, I¡¯m sure of it.

    So. Yulia gets a smaller tub put in her room while we soak and discuss important matters. ¡°Okay¡­.Talia.¡± Haha, it feels weird to be so casual with her. A good weird though. ¡°Lay it on us.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± She sits up, arranging herself so she mirrors Alana, lying against Kierra¡¯s chest. Her eyes are closed. It¡¯s strange how she doesn¡¯t keep them open all the time. I would think she would be tired of the darkness after all this time trapped in it. ¡°Would you like me to speak about the visitors chronologically or by relative importance?¡±

    ¡°Chronologically.¡± Knowing who came first and who came last is important information in itself.

    ¡°Very well. The first to visit were Kierra¡¯s helpers.¡±

    ¡°Helpers? Do you mean the foundation acolytes?¡± During my initiate year, Kierra served as a foundation teacher. While the Hall is known for its casters and their pursuit of magic, it also trains some of the best martial fighters in the kingdom. The study of physical prowess is known as foundation training in the Hall.

    As a fighter with a pure physical affinity, Kierra is the natural choice for an instructor. She taught both initiates and acolytes. The acolytes that she took a liking to were given the opportunity to assist with her other classes.

    ¡°I spoke with them before we left,¡± Kierra says. ¡°Asked them to keep an eye on the house.¡±

    ¡°That is what they offered. Their leader, a young man by the name of Brahim, knocked on the door. He said that he and his team would be patrolling the area and keeping their ears open throughout the Hall. They also offered to run errands and stay in the house. I believe they were worried about a woman staying on her own in such turbulent times.¡±

    I scoff. They were worried about Talia, a near master level mental caster? ¡°How did you answer their concerns?¡±

    ¡°I assured them that I was confident in protecting myself and that Earl was capable of handling any errands.¡±

    ¡°And how did my cubs respond?¡± Kierra asks, putting her chin on Talia¡¯s head.

    ¡°Brahim promised to keep any patrolling to the road and asked if it would be acceptable if they were allowed to check on me every few days.¡± She turns sideways to look at Kierra. ¡°Since he was yours, I agreed. They were respectful guests and did as promised, keeping their distance from the property and bringing back whispers from the other acolytes. It has all been noted down.¡±

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    Kierra rubs their faces together like a nuzzling pet. ¡°I have chosen good hounds.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll look at those notes later. Next?¡±

    ¡°Aurelius visited.¡±

    My lips immediately curl in distaste. The instructor and master air caster has been an annoyance from the moment we arrived at the Grand Hall. Like any other beautiful woman, Kierra attracts admirers like a flower attracts bees. I can admit now that I was a lot less secure in my marriage in the past and found the rampant admiration grating but it was also fleeting. When said admirers realized that Kierra had no interest in them, they gave up their pursuits.

    The one exception is Aurelius. The bald bastard has made his infatuation with Kierra clear from the day we met and refuses to give up on her. Nothing can dissuade the fanatic. Not me subtly and then blatantly threatening him. Not Kierra, who normally turns a blind eye to her admirers¡¯ antics, hoping the frustration they cause will motivate me, getting angry with him. Not even a subtle warning from Dunwayne after making a baseless accusation against me was enough to shake the man¡¯s determination.

    These days, I feel far less threatened by him and hardly think of the man but whenever his name is brought up, my mood drops.

    ¡°What did he want?¡±

    ¡°He attempted to recruit me.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°He wanted me to feed him, and the Hall, information on this household. The hunters want to open negotiations regarding the March and the events of the Wild Night. The Hall will remain neutral, as it always has, but has a vested interest in the outcome of the talks. Particularly Aurelius. He claims that he wants to ensure a peaceful resolution with no more damage to the city.¡±

    ¡°And he thinks we don¡¯t?¡± I gripe.

    ¡°He expressed concern before asking me to keep him informed about your thoughts and movements, hoping to appeal to a responsibility to the kingdom forged by training as an interrogator and my old allegiance to the Hall.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d he take being turned down?¡±

    ¡°Gracefully. He tried to convince me for a time but when my position remained adamant, he excused himself.¡±

    How unlike him. Maybe he¡¯s just repugnantly stubborn when it comes to my wife. I¡¯m not sure if that raises or lowers my opinion of him.

    ¡°The last person of note to visit was my patron, Lord Remmings.¡±

    I sit up, accidentally jostling Alana who grumbles in displeasure. ¡°The head interrogator Remmings? Your father Remmings?¡±

    ¡°He is not my father.¡±

    I wave off her technicality. Sure, he didn¡¯t give birth to her, but he took her in, raised her, taught her, and wants her to be his successor. ¡°What did he want?¡± I ask the question but it¡¯s obvious what the answer is.

    ¡°For me to return to the capital and resume my future as his successor.¡± She immediately confirms my suspicions. ¡°He is not taking my refusal well and has visited many more times to change my mind. Each time, he asks more questions about you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m assuming he doesn¡¯t like me much.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    A quick, decisive answer with no room for different interpretation or platitudes to soften the truth. I was hoping to make a good impression on the man but there¡¯s no telling what he¡¯s heard about me. My reputation must be monstrous. That combined with the fact that I¡¯ve taken his successor, his precious daughter, as a mistress¡­sigh.

    Maybe there¡¯s a hope. As an interrogator, he knows better than most that rumors can¡¯t be trusted and that people are more than they seem.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised no hunters came here,¡± Alana drawls, looking immensely comfortable. ¡°Either to gather information or attack the house.¡±

    ¡°The question is, is it a good or a bad sign?¡± I ask. Do they not want to give the wrong impression coming to my home while knowing I¡¯m away? Are they getting their information from other sources? Are they too terrified to dare risk offending me? Do they not want to draw attention while they build up their forces?

    ¡°We will see,¡± Talia offers. ¡°Word of your return will spread to every corner of the city by morning. They should send a representative in the morning. If they invite you to a discussion, on neutral ground, then they need to make peace. If they talk in circles, then they are buying time while the asses your position for weakness.¡±

    ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll have to wait till tomorrow.¡± For now, it¡¯s been a long week and the bath water is still warm. There will be time to deal with trouble tomorrow.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-12

    Against my quiet expectations, the four of us get up to nothing more than a good night¡¯s rest. A pleasure in its own right. Alana was correct when she said the bed is big enough for four and we¡¯ve all moved past being shy about physical contact.

    When morning dawns, I find myself sandwiched between Alana that is dreaming within my arms and Talia who is pressed against my back. Kierra is already awake, standing at the foot of the bed while stretching in the morning sun. She doesn¡¯t make a sound as she raises her hands above her head and laces her fingers, leaning into one side and holding the pose for several breaths before straightening and doing the same to the other side.

    It reminds me of our time trapped in the Enchanted Forest. Stuck within the confines of the prison constructed by her mother¡¯s magic, Kierra lived a slow life. She slept most of the day and whenever she woke up, she¡¯d stretch just like she is now. Seeing her makes me think of how simple life used to be, for both of us. We¡¯re nearing two years since our union. How quickly things can change.

    ¡°I can feel you staring,¡± Kierra mutters softly. She pauses to look over her shoulder and smiles. I squint at her. Mm, it¡¯s her normal smile, not the slightly tense one she¡¯s been wearing since we¡¯ve left the north.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to be home,¡± I whisper back.

    ¡°Mm, yes.¡± She carefully takes a seat on the bed. ¡°I forgot how it felt to return home after a journey.¡±

    ¡°What about going home to your village?¡±

    She sighs. ¡°That was not a happy moment but one filled with dread and questions. Do you not remember that I threatened to do battle with my mother? I was also eager to escape her and her judgment. No, that place was no longer home. Before I knew it, this house on a flying rock in the middle of another race¡¯s kingdom has become my home. Or perhaps I should say our clan has become our home.¡±

    Her gaze moves over Alana and Talia with a fondness that fills my chest with warmth. ¡°I imagine I could be anywhere so long as I am with you, the star, and the moon lily.¡±

    ¡°Even the north?¡±

    Her smile turns predatory. ¡°Especially the north. You know how much I love a good challenge. When we return, we will make the land itself bow to us.¡±

    ¡°I think the dragons might have a problem with that.¡±

    ¡°I look forward to it.¡±

    I completely believe her and it¡¯s my turn to chuckle. A sudden question intrudes on my humor and I can¡¯t help but ask it. ¡°How in the world did you remain unattached before we met?¡± We¡¯ve had our problems due to differences in our cultures, but Kierra is the ideal elf. With good looks, strength, an important family, and a caring heart underneath all that savage brutality, she had to be popular.

    Saints, one of her admirers was so infatuated with her, he would rather kill her than let her be with anyone else, the crazy bastard. I¡¯m sure, amongst her suitors, there had to be someone who caught her eye.

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    She puts her chin in her hand as her eyes close in thought. ¡°When I was younger, I took company for granted. I have always been¡­loved, Lou. By everyone. Even my mother had a soft spot for me, her only child with a pure affinity. There was never a shortage of partners. I have never been as¡­harsh as my mother but I grew up being taught that relationships are things we take from as we need and are taken from in return. I¡­was not kind to my lovers, Lou. We are a tough people but hearts are soft. Something it took a long time to understand.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°When I was imprisoned in the forest, I learned the value of company. I could have all the sex I wanted but there was no one to say hello to me. No one to share a meal with. No one to wrap my arms around. For twenty years, I was alone in every way that matters. Only then did I realize how much I took for granted.¡±

    Kierra reaches out and tickles the heel of Alana¡¯s foot that sticks out of our blankets. The stern woman sleepily squirms away from the touch, letting out a sound of displeasure that is positively adorable. ¡°At first, I hated my mother for what she did but the more time that passes with my sentence behind me, the more I am thankful for the experience. It allowed me to meet you but more importantly, it changed my perspective so I could bewith you. Without my punishment, I would have spent decades wading through conflict, unable to imagine anything more. Now, I have all of this. With plenty of conflict too.¡± She chuckles.

    To my stark embarrassment, I feel heat behind my eyes. This lovely barbarian. She is amazing, despite her abrasive nature. When she leads with her heart rather than her fists, she¡¯s beautiful. When she turns on the charm, she¡¯s irresistible. But when she¡¯s open and vulnerable? I¡¯d dare call her perfect.

    There¡¯s no way I ever stood a chance, is there? I suppose I should also be grateful to mother-in-law. As Kierra said, because of her, I have all this. And Cosmo, of course. I can¡¯t imagine what life would be like if that wonderful elemental, may he stay forever glossy, had dropped me back home instead of in her cage.

    With careful hands, Kierra makes room between me and Alana before turning me on my back and climbing over me. ¡°Are you crying, dedia?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I grumble, fighting desperately to hold back the sudden bout of tears threatening to make themselves known.

    Kierra is nice enough to pretend I¡¯m not full of shit but her kiss is especially gentle. For a little while. She is still who she is. We didn¡¯t abstain in the James¡¯ house, but we did find ourselves holding back. There¡¯s no need for propriety in our own home. It doesn¡¯t take long before she¡¯s sucking on my tongue and her hand is pushed down the loose pants I wore to bed.

    I open my eyes that had reflexively slipped shut when I feel a soft touch on my cheek. Talia is awake, eyes wide open and watching Kierra¡¯s oral assault on my lips with rapt attention. Not that her expression shows any interest. Her features are as blank as ever but I¡¯ve always found that ice-like demeanor cute.

    Kierra notices our audience and pulls back from our kiss, sitting up and straddling me. Her hand reaches out to Talia, who takes and presses it against her cheek. It¡¯s the kind of sweet, maidenly gesture one only sees in theatre from pretend-princesses and I love that she actually did it without blinking an eye. I know she¡¯s been practicing for her role but where is she getting her training?

    ¡°Our flower did so well looking after the house,¡± the elf practically purrs. Her thumb traces Talia¡¯s lips before pressing past them. Talia doesn¡¯t so much as bat an eye at the intrusion, sucking on the digit like it¡¯s a delicacy. ¡°She deserves a reward, hm?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± I mutter distractedly.

    ¡°Shall we leave her to the pets? Or enjoy her together?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    Kierra lets out a startled laugh as she is shoved off me, skillfully dodging Talia to land on her side. Alana takes her place. Her eyes are still hooded with sleep as she points at Talia. ¡°Not your turn.¡±

    Talia acquiesces with a nod, allowing herself to be pulled away by Kierra. The sounds they make suggest something interesting, but I have no idea what¡¯s going on. My attention is wholly occupied by Alana, blonde hair in disarray and mouth open in a jaw-cracking yawn. She stretches out the last vestiges of sleep before focusing on me. ¡°We¡¯ve got unfinished business.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-13

    Alana quickly loses her nerves after her bold usurpation of Kierra¡¯s advances. We spend so long simply staring at one another that I can¡¯t help bursting into laughter. She slaps my stomach but laughs with me. I pull her down and turn us so we¡¯re lying on our sides, facing each other. ¡°Hi.¡±

    ¡°Hey.¡± Her face is slightly flushed and she still smells like soap. She lets out a shuddering breath as I push a leg between hers and wrap and arm around her lower back. ¡°Um¡­¡±

    ¡°Where did all that confidence go?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I said that.¡±

    ¡°I can. Cause my sweet girl knows she can have whatever she wants if she asks for it.¡± I swallow her next words in a kiss. As always, she melts at my touch, so different from my wife that would have taken it as an invitation to tussle. I naturally climb on top of her, our bodies molding together as the kiss deepens. Saints, does it feel good to push aside the possible world-ending problems for a moment and indulge in a warm body. She¡¯s so soft. And she tastes good. Not the artificial enticing sweetness of my prime form but a natural, very subtle sweetness. One I could even be imagining. Doesn¡¯t matter, I¡¯m enjoying it.

    ¡°W-wait.¡± I pull back from the kiss, pressing a finger against her lips to keep her from chasing mine. I turn to Kierra and Talia, the elf watching us while lounging on two pillows stacked atop one another while the flower slowly caresses her with fingers and lips. They make a pretty picture that I would be happy to admire for hours any other time. But I made a promise about this moment. No treacherous succubus whispers. No nosy elves getting involved. No beautiful mistress. Just me and Alana.

    ¡°Come, lily.¡± With a chuckle, Kierra rolls off the bed and scoops up Talia, who expertly languishes in her arms. I would have never thought there were different ways to be carried. Talia proves me wrong. She really is dedicated to her role. ¡°We are being dismissed.¡±

    They sweep from the room and I turn my attention back to Alana. Without any witnesses, her stern mask collapses even faster. She smiles up at me shyly and I answer it with a wide grin. There is a quiet understanding between us as we undress. Mm. She¡¯s always been fit but her time with Kierra has added a new degree of definition to her frame, especially her legs. Her stomach remains flat, with only the faintest signs of abs, far from the chiseled lines of Kierra¡¯s stomach. Fitting. She smothers a giggle as I kiss her there, before moving lower.

    Her fingers slide into my hair as I run my tongue along her thigh, enticed by the wetness I find there. My mouth follows it to its source and Alana¡¯s fingers tighten as I tease her lower lips. She shudders as I flick her clit and moans as I slip my tongue inside her, hips gyrating as she humps my face. Despite her moans and steadily tightening grip, I keep my pace slow. The goal isn¡¯t to get her off, but to get her ready. As she said, we have unfinished business.

    ¡°Lou¡­¡± she moans after several minutes under my assault. Her legs cross over my shoulders. ¡°I want¡­faster¡­¡±

    ¡°Mm-mhm.¡± I forcefully break free from her insistent thighs and climb over her. Fighting against my irrational worries, I take one of her hands in mine, kiss her fingers, and guide it between my own legs. Unlike my careful pace, Alana¡¯s ministrations are quick and forceful. In no time, she¡¯s coaxed out my gift and is stroking along its length.

    ¡°Ready?¡± I whisper against her lips.

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    ¡°Mm.¡±

    Alana holds my gaze as my gift presses against her entrance. Her hands move to my shoulders, her nails ineffectually trying to dig into my skin as I slowly, carefully, push inside. ¡°Oh, fuck.¡±

    ¡°You okay?¡± I ask, stopping.

    Her answer is an annoyed hiss. One of her hands grabs my chin. ¡°I¡¯m not a flower and I¡¯m not made of winter cursed glass! Fucking fuck me already!¡±

    Well.

    ¡°Is that how my sweet girl asks me for something?¡±

    ¡°It is when you¡ª" Her words are cut off by a startled gasp as I sheathe myself inside her. I put my arms on either side of her and press my nose against her neck, breathing her in while I give her a moment to adjust. And maybe I need a moment myself. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m inside Alana right now. For most of my life, I thought I¡¯d never find love. I certainly never thought I¡¯d experience it like this. Lying against Alana, our naked bodies pressing against one another, my gift tightly squeezed by her warmth, I¡¯m overcome with¡­feeling. Couldn¡¯t describe it if I wanted to.

    ¡°Lou¡­please¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it. I love it when you call my name like that.¡± That soft voice with a hint of a tremble. Demanding but questioning. Full of desire but tempered by love.

    She gasps as I begin to move, slowly and deliberately, arms desperately wrapping around my neck and squeezing. There isn¡¯t enough room to slip a sheet of parchment between us, but I want to be closer. I want to know what she¡¯s feeling. If she¡¯s feeling the same way I am.

    ¡°Talk to me,¡± I whisper. I¡¯m suddenly overcome by an urge and don¡¯t bother fighting it, replacing the lips kissing her throat with my teeth. Not the vicious mauling my wife is fond of but a gentle scrape against her sensitive skin that makes her arc into me.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­so¡­ahh!¡± Her legs cross over my waist, trying to hold me against her.

    ¡°Are you feeling shy? That can¡¯t be right. Not from my sweetie that was practically begging for me earlier.¡±

    ¡°I, hah, didn¡¯t¡­¡± She groans as I hilt myself with a particularly strong thrust.

    ¡°Oh, Alana. You think I¡¯m easy to read but I can read you just as well. Especially when I¡¯m inside you.¡± I can see how rapidly her heart is beating in her throat. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth is wide open as she pants for breath. Her body quakes and shudders as I pound into her. ¡°You fucking love it, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Are you close, honey?¡± I am. My gift is sensitive but this is almost too fast. I¡¯m holding on through sheer will, as I want this to be special. ¡°Open your eyes,¡± I hiss.

    She does, her eyelids fluttering.

    ¡°Tell me.¡±

    ¡°Feels¡­so good. So, hahhh.¡±

    ¡°Look at me.¡±

    She struggles but manages to meet my gaze, her blue eyes wet and distant. My hands cradle her head, urging her to hold my stare. It doesn¡¯t take long before my control slips. I groan as I bury myself inside her, hips moving sporadically as I climax. To my delight, I feel Alana clamp down on me as her own pleasure overwhelms her. The whole time, we never break our stare, her gazey eyes focusing on mine. It¡¯s¡­tender. Gentle.

    It¡¯s never been like this before. I was so afraid that I would accidentally be too rough with her because sex with Kierra is always rough. There is as much struggle as there is love when we¡¯re together. It¡¯s no different with Cloud, who mates like the animals she practically worships. Alana is the exact opposite. My body that was engineered to keep up with beastly appetites¡­is perfectly content to simply rest on top and inside her. Oh, my gift is still hard and ready for the next round but this is just as good. Huh.

    Alana sighs as her body relaxes. ¡°Ancestors.¡±

    I kiss her. It¡¯s a sloppy mess with more tongue than lips and I love it. ¡°You okay?¡± I ask between swapping spit.

    ¡°Great. That was¡­¡±

    ¡°Good as you thought it would be?¡±

    ¡°Mm. I understand why you two scream like you¡¯re being murdered now.¡±

    That¡¯s cute. ¡°Not yet you don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡± One of her hands lightly plays with the ends of my hair. ¡°Still worried?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I break away from our kiss to smile down on her. ¡°You may not be a flower but my sweet girl does make me soft.¡± It¡¯s laughable that I thought I would lose control and hurt her.

    ¡°Good.¡± I feel what she wants to do but allow it, following her motions as she flips us over, laying me on my back. Alana straddles my waist, hands brazenly groping my chest as she stares down at me with blatant hunger. ¡°Because we¡¯re not done.¡±

    ¡°Anything you want.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-14 (Yulia)

    It was almost sinful how much Yulia was enjoying her vacation. When she offered to return to Quest with her sister, the best she hoped for was repairing their relationship but she willing to settle for bringing the negotiations with the guilds to a peaceful end, bolstering both her own reputation and that of the north¡¯s.

    Whether he knew it or not, her father had taken the first steps of revolution by encouraging hunters to join the campaign but if she was ever going to change Victory, she would need more than fighters. She needed to entice the dreamers. Those who could take the bleak winter land and infuse it with colorful visions and vibrant ideas. She needed builders and artisans. Thinkers and inventors.

    What she needed most of all were merchants. If she could get the money flowing, the rest would naturally follow. Unfortunately, few traders ventured further north than Rosentheim, as they thought Victorians only dealt in blood and murder. Showing a bit of reason and mercy about the March would go a long way to correcting that¡­she hoped. Also, the very public collection of such a large debt would be an announcement to the traders of the kingdom that the north did in fact have gold. A lot of it. That alone might be enough for some of the merchants to overcome their fear and brave the road to Victory.

    To that end, she prepared herself to suffer the harsh realities of travel and being an unexpected guest in her sister¡¯s home. But there was nothing harsh about traveling with Lourianne Tome. The noblewoman had been eager to return home. So eager, she suggested that they leave behind Yulia¡¯s escort.

    Normally, it would be unthinkable for someone like Yulia to travel without a small army, but the Tome clan had proved they were more than the match of any roadside bandit or random manabeast.

    It didn¡¯t take long to convince the Stars to agree to her arrangement, namely that they would go ahead with the chest of gold Lou had reaped from the guilds and the Stars would set off a week behind them. Hopefully, by that time, at least one other army would have returned and the Stars would feel comfortable sending more bodies. While the fort hadn¡¯t faced an assault since the first years of its founding, it was tradition that Victory was always manned by a minimum number of forces. The goal was to resolve the March without violence but such an outcome might require a show of force. Her admittedly biased experience had taught her that someone was much more likely to listen when the speaker was holding a sword and knew how to use it.

    Not only was the trip fast, despite her selfishly asking for several breaks to allow Allen to appreciate the coming spring, but it was comfortable. Sleeping on a bench could never be comparable to a bed but the custom carriage was better than most, the hard wood softened by ample cushions and a wonderfully warm blanket. She still had to squat behind bushes, but she could take a bath every night.

    And the food! By the ancestors. She always wondered how Lou had managed to seduce her stoic sister but the first night of dinner had answered that question. What a way to break the ice, both physical and metaphorical. She¡¯d never had spicy food before but now craved the dishes that burned long after they were consumed.

    If she were her younger self and still considering suitors, the chance to eat the delicious food every day might have trumped her husband¡¯s overflowing love. A terrible thing to think but Yulia didn¡¯t feel bad. Anyone who dined on the succubus¡¯ cooking would agree.

    She wasn¡¯t a terrible person. It was just that good.

    The comforts only multiplied once she arrived at Lou¡¯s estate. Soft beds, large baths, and a garden that made her silly trick with water and dye look sad by comparison. What really blew Yulia¡¯s mind was that, although they didn¡¯t own the home, they were allowed to live in it for free, so long as Kierra remained an instructor.

    It wasn¡¯t at all different from how the northern orders gave their high-ranking members homes based on the distinction of their service but even the most respected knights lived in huts compared to the estate.

    Then there were the servants.

    Without prompting, Earl, the estate¡¯s steward, appeared at her side and refilled her tea. Another lovely surprise. Tea in the north was bitter. Truly, most things were. What she was drinking now was¡­she didn¡¯t have a proper word for it because she¡¯d never experienced such a taste before. It was spicy but without any heat, the sharp taste mellowed by milk and sugar.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, not because she was in the habit of thanking servants, though she did say a kind word on occasion, but because she wanted to make sure she left a good impression for when she subtly pumped the boy for information. There was nothing sinister about her actions. In order for her to accomplish her mission, she needed the full picture and people never spoke the whole truth if they could help it.

    Especially not nobles. Yulia was quite fond of her future sister-in-law, but she didn¡¯t think Lou was the exception. The young woman was rather vain. Yulia imagined she would keep any failings or perceived weaknesses to herself, things she needed to know.

    ¡°Does Lou not usually eat breakfast?¡± she questioned. She expected to be the last one at the dining table having woken late, but she and Allen were the only ones present.

    ¡°The ladies of the house eat when the mood strikes them. Dinner tends to be the most regular meal.¡±

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    ¡°I see. If you don¡¯t mind me asking, how did you find yourself working for Lou? And in such a prestigious position, no less. Men can work all their lives and achieve nothing greater than wielding a broom for their masters.¡±

    It wouldn¡¯t have been unusual for the young man to take her questioning of his qualifications as an insult, but Earl smiled softly. ¡°Before meeting my lady, I was a pitiable bandit, a child forced to take from others to support the little family I had left. My old compatriots assaulted her carriage but rather than dispatch us, she spared our lives. Some of us, she gave another chance. I used up the luck of a hundred lifetimes to be chosen to serve her. Yes, it is unusual for someone to be given my role at my age, but it is a sign of the lady¡¯s trust in me. I will not fail it.¡±

    Yulia fought the urge to frown. There was no problem with Earl¡¯s words. Any lord or lady would be thrilled to hear their servants speak of them in such a manner.

    It was his tone that caught her attention. She recognized it. Earl did not speak of loyalty. He spoke of devotion. The way the most fanatical families in the north spoke of her own family. Something that begged unsettling questions.

    Her worries didn¡¯t show on her face as she smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure you won¡¯t. You¡¯re quite a capable man already. I¡¯m tempted to steal you for your brewing skills alone. Who would have thought tea could be so enjoyable?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m flattered but I could never accept.¡±

    ¡°Of course, of course. You mentioned family?¡±

    ¡°Yes. My lady chose to spare me along with my younger sister, Anna.¡±

    ¡°Oh? And does she work in the house as well?¡±

    ¡°She helps with the chores, but her main duty is the care of the animals. For now, that is the flocketts.¡±

    ¡°The what?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will have the chance to see them. Perhaps before the tour of the garden.¡±

    She was about to ask him another question when he turned his head toward the front of the house. ¡°One moment, Lady James. We appear to have a visitor.¡±

    Yulia scooped Allen into her arms as Earl swept from the room, wondering if she had missed a knock or a bell. The answer came a moment later when a shrill ring echoed throughout the house. Her brows furrowed as she wondered how Earl had known someone was coming if the bell had just been rung. The question hot on the heels of the first was about the young man¡¯s abilities in general. She was forced to put off getting answers to either as Earl returned with a guest.

    Yulia looked at the newcomer with interest. She wore the simple robe Yulia had learned was common to those of the Hall, the scarlet color matching the woman¡¯s hair. She was older but she wore the age well, with only the faintest lines around her eyes and mouth. Her dark eyes are shaped in a natural glare but there was no sign of tension in the rest of her body.

    The stranger came to a stop when she spotted Yulia. ¡°Wait. You¡¯re the James girl. The oldest. Yulianna.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised someone from the Hall would recognize my family,¡± she admitted with genuine surprise.

    ¡°From the north originally.¡± She took a seat at the end of the table and Earl quickly served her, setting a plate of lukewarm food and steaming tea in front of her. ¡°Waning Stars. Went up to the house once with Big Ana.¡±

    Yulia chuckled hearing the Stars¡¯ name for her aunt, a succinct way for the woman to prove she was from the north as she claimed. ¡°It seems redundant but for the sake of propriety, let me introduce myself. Yulianna James. A pleasure to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Alyssa Filagree, instructor and sometimes hunter.¡±

    Yulia beamed at her. Alyssa ignored the smile and dug into the plate of food, shoveling eggs into her mouth with obvious relish. ¡°Can I ask why you¡¯re here? It¡¯s a bit early for a casual visit.¡±

    ¡°Same reason you¡¯re here,¡± the instructor muttered around her food. ¡°The March.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Come to support the north?¡±

    ¡°If the north wants to burn the city to the ground, then absolutely not. But I also don¡¯t want the guilds screwing over this house.¡± She picked up her teacup and sucked it down like it was juice. Yulia tried not to look too judgmental about the appalling manners. ¡°I was a bit of a bitch to Lou so I want to make things right.¡±

    ¡°You call her Lou.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look.¡± Alyssa pointed her fork at Yulia. ¡°I could never call that pervert something like Lady Tome. At least, not to her face. Ugh. I would burn my tongue off first.¡±

    ¡°Pervert? That¡¯s a little harsh, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah? You telling me she hasn¡¯t made a pass or twelve at you?¡±

    ¡°Not a one.¡±

    Alyssa paused, looking up with such blatant shock that Yulia giggled. ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡±

    ¡°No. Is that really so hard to believe?¡±

    ¡°You obviously don¡¯t know her. Or maybe I don¡¯t. Didn¡¯t think that girl had any boundaries but apparently, it¡¯s married mothers. Cute kid, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Oh, pardon me.¡± Yulia held her son up under his arms, standing him up in her lap. ¡°This is my boy, Allen. Say hi, butterball.¡± She waved one of his small arms as the little boy giggled.

    ¡°He¡¯s lucky he takes after you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, but my husband¡¯s rather handsome. If a little spiky.¡±

    ¡°What the fuck does that mean? Actually, no. Don¡¯t want to know.¡±

    ¡°I did not expect our table to be so lively.¡± Yulia looked up at the new voice to see Kierra entering the room with Talia in her arms. She didn¡¯t know until that moment that there was a proper way to be carried but looking at Talia perfectly cradled in the strong green arms, her head laying on Kierra¡¯s shoulder with one hand lightly resting on the other, she was convinced she had been doing it wrong. She certainly didn¡¯t believe she¡¯d ever looked so picturesque while being lugged around by her aunt when she was too tired to stand after a particularly hard training session.

    ¡°Alyssa. What a pleasant surprise.¡± Kierra expertly set Talia in a chair before taking the seat beside her. ¡°I thought you would never grace our home again.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well. I overreacted before. And I¡¯ve gotten used to it now. Been coming for tea every once in a while.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± One of Kierra¡¯s hands grabbed Talia by the chin. ¡°Lily, you did not mention Alyssa as a visitor.¡±

    ¡°She asked to speak with you about her purpose herself.¡±

    Yulia watched with interest as they stared at one another, trying to discern their relationship. Alana described the taciturn woman as everyone¡¯s mistress. That sounded like the wife of pleasure, the one meant to comfort the duke¡¯s cold heart, but Talia was anything but warm.

    The wife of pleasure also tended to be weak, a noncombatant like Ariza. While Talia was physically outmatched by the elf with a pure physical affinity, she did not feel like a weak woman. Rather, Yulia¡¯s instincts, honed through years of training and a single but harsh campaign, told her there was an air of danger around the quiet woman. Yet, she was more subservient to the whims of the women in the house than a trained dog.

    ¡°Earl. Warm up two plates and bring me a bottle of wine. The peach. I¡¯m in the mood for something sweet.¡±

    ¡°Right away, mistress.¡±

    ¡°Now.¡± Kierra leaned forward. ¡°Tell me what brings you to my home.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-15

    Our time together is cut short by Alana¡¯s grumbling stomach. As irresistible as I would hope I am, I cannot trump the allure of breakfast. So, we take a moment to get cleaned up, and to cool down for me, and head downstairs.

    The dining room is unexpectedly crowded. I expect Yulia and Allen, looking full and content. Kierra and Talia are unexpected. I thought they might pick a room and indulge in each other until nightfall. From the smell of it, it was the wine that tempted my wife from the call of debauchery and Talia of course followed her and is pouring her drinks.

    The real unexpected addition is Miss Alyssa. The last time I saw the instructor was when she burned our roof and swore she was going to quit her job. I believe she settled for a vacation. Seems she¡¯s back and she¡¯s visiting us. I have to admit, I¡¯m flattered. And nervous. I can¡¯t imagine good news bringing the redhead to our door.

    ¡°Good morning, you two,¡± the snow bunny greets excitedly.

    ¡°A very good morning,¡± Kierra adds.

    Alana slaps her shoulder as she passes, taking the seat on her opposite side. I take a seat at the end of the table, across from Yulia. With her usual eerie timing, Geneva is there with a plate of food, eggs, sausage, and warm biscuits. She also pours me a glass of Kierra¡¯s wine. At the same time, Bell sets a similar plate before Alana. While she lazily digs into her breakfast, I turn to Alyssa. ¡°So? Who died?¡±

    She hesitates, making sure I¡¯m talking to her, before frowning. ¡°No one died.¡±

    ¡°Really? I thought it would take something of at least that level to bring you back to our house.¡±

    She grimaces. ¡°Suppose now¡¯s as good a time as any.¡± Alyssa stands up and clears her throat. ¡°Lou. Kierra. I want to apologize for my behavior during the qualifiers. I¡­no, no excuses. Er, I¡¯m sorry about the damage to your house, which I¡¯ll pay for. But since neither of you need money, I thought I could pay in services. I¡¯ve been keeping an eye on the hunters.¡±

    She pauses and looks around the table. I take a bite out of a sausage and wave the rest at her. ¡°Please, go on.¡± This sounds interesting.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had connections with the guilds for a long time. Figured I could keep an eye on things, make sure they don¡¯t get out of hand. Serve both sides.¡±

    ¡°Both sides?¡± Kierra questions.

    ¡°Yeah, well. I know what it will look like if you go to war with the city.¡± Her eyes turn to me and I know she¡¯s remembering how I snapped Orphelia¡¯s neck in the blink of an eye. ¡°I figure if I keep them from getting themselves killed, they¡¯ll thank me in the end.¡±

    ¡°Never took you for the heroic type,¡± I ask around a bite of biscuit.

    ¡°I¡¯m not. Heroic is throwing yourself in the way of a spell to save a child. This? This is stopping the baker from poisoning the village well to get revenge on a bunch of kids that vandalized his store. Ruining his life and the lives of all his neighbors in a stupid scheme that does a lot more harm for the sake of his ego or justice or whatever shit he uses to explain it.¡±

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    She sighs. ¡°The hunters I know are the grunts who are most likely to get themselves killed in this stupid conflict. They are very interested in keeping their heads, so they talk to me. Mainly about¡ª"

    Her words are interrupted by the shrill ring of a bell. Our doorbell. Forgot we have one of those, it gets rung so little. Normally, Earl or Geneva are at the door before they get the chance. A quick glance shows that the steward isn¡¯t in the room.

    [He isn¡¯t answering the door, my summoner. He is grabbing his weapons.]

    Saints.

    [Things have taken quite the turn.]

    Who is at my door?

    [Aurelius and members of Quest¡¯s city guards.]

    I don¡¯t suppose they¡¯re here for a late breakfast and congratulations for returning from the campaign?

    [No.]

    Is this going to become violent?

    [That depends on you. They certainly aren¡¯t here with peaceful intentions.]

    Damn it all to the Abyss. ¡°We have a problem,¡± I say to the table as I get to my feet. I motion for Geneva to answer the door. While I don¡¯t love the idea of a fight destroying our home, if people need to be silenced, it¡¯s better to do it behind walls. Besides, a ceiling eliminates my biggest concern when it comes to the bald bastard. ¡°A few friends from the city are at the door.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± Alyssa shouts. ¡°The hunters shouldn¡¯t be making any moves yet.¡±

    ¡°Not the hunters. The city guards and Aurelius.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s still bothering you?¡± the instructor sneers.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Aurelius?¡± Yulia asks.

    ¡°An annoying admirer of Kierra¡¯s,¡± Alana answers, having looked up from her food for the first time, attention drawn by the serious topic. ¡°Do I need my sword?¡±

    ¡°Not yet, sweetie. There isn¡¯t an army at our door.¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡± My future saint flushes as her sister snickers.

    ¡°Can we get back to the imminent danger?¡± Alyssa snaps, bringing us back to important matters.

    ¡°I assume that Geneva has determined our visitors are not here with good intentions?¡± Talia asks.

    ¡°Who is Geneva?¡±

    ¡°Geneva is my succubus who just went to answer the door and will be returning any moment,¡± I answer the redhead who growing more irate by the second. ¡°She also has the mental affinity and as such can gleam people¡¯s intentions.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that thing called¡ªno, later. The guards are here with bad intentions. That can only mean one thing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I figured.¡±

    Heavy footsteps draw the room¡¯s attention to the entrance. Earl and Nomad, the latter rubbing his eyes, enter the room from one end while the entourage of enemies comes in from the welcoming room. The helmets, breastplates, and weapons at their waists cement that the guards are not here for a friendly discussion. Even Aurelius, wearing his usual silver robe, this one padded at the chest and shoulders, is armed, a rapier sheathed at his side. His expression is solemn as he stands behind the guards, but it doesn¡¯t fool me for a moment. If he isn¡¯t tickled pink inside from his mess, I¡¯m a swine.

    The people actually welcome in my home shift. Kierra stands and walks over to my side. Alana moves closer to her sister and Bell scampers over to their feet, ready to protect the most vulnerable people in the room. Earl and Nomad hover in the background, the unseen dangers, while Alyssa moves to the side, not wanting to fight official powers, but still in a position to act if it¡¯s necessary.

    One of the guards takes a half-step in front of the others and raises a rolled up piece of parchment. He glances at me, then Kierra, before unfurling it. ¡°Lady Lourianne Tome is accused of these crimes. First, she did unlawfully assault residents of the city. Second, she did unlawfully send her servants to assault residents of the city. Third, she did unlawfully order rampant damage to city property. Fourth, she did go against the king¡¯s law by contracting illegal elementals. For these crimes, she is to be detained by the city of Quest to await the judgment of the crown.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-16

    I probably look like an idiot, staring at the guards with a slightly dropped jaw but I really didn¡¯t see this coming.

    The lord of Quest is a coward. That is an unmistakable fact, one demonstrated by him letting the guilds run amok. The guildmasters have more sway in the city than he does. Given his reluctance to confront me before I left for the campaign, I was sure he would maintain his usual position, which is essentially covering his head and ignoring the problem until someone else deals with it.

    It was always a possibility that the lord would take action against us, but it was a remote one. One not worth considering. Yet he¡¯s gone and done it. He wants to detain me for judgment. Which means execution. My only chance of mercy is selling myself and my elementals to the crown, becoming a servant of the king.

    How did we get here? Does the lord expect me to come quietly? The four nervous guards certainly aren¡¯t strong enough to take me against my will, something he should know. Something everyone should know. He has to know that if I were so inclined, I could do a lot worse to his precious city than a little property damage.

    What is worth the risk? His pride? He gave that up long ago.

    This is a man motivated by fear. So what scares him more than my family razing Quest?

    ¡­the crown. The last charge the guards announced was that I had broken the king¡¯s law by contracting illegal elementals, something that is rather well-known. The crown¡¯s agents already know about me, given the offer during my interview for the qualifiers. If he ignores me, then the lord is refusing to enforce the king¡¯s law. And if he does not enforce the king¡¯s law, the king doesn¡¯t need him. Better to strip him of his title and put someone with some guts, or at least blind devotion, in the position.

    I guess it came down to making an enemy of one family or the king. He chose me.

    Bad choice.

    ¡°And what are you doing here?¡± I ask the bald bastard. ¡°Come to help detain the vicious criminal?¡±

    ¡°The Hall is a neutral party but is still bound by the laws of the kingdom. We cannot harbor known criminals. The Grandmaster of the Hall has given you one day to vacate the Hall and face your crimes however you wish. I am here to ensure these messengers leave the Hall safely.¡±

    He turns to Kierra. ¡°Lord Teppin has only issued an order to detain Lourianne Tome. The Hall will not penalize those associated with her and your position at the Hall is secure.¡±

    ¡°You think I care about my position and this silly house?¡± my wife growls. Not her sexy growl but one promising bloodshed. ¡°I should tear out your guts and strangle you with them.¡±

    So, the lord is keeping his hands off Kierra. Is it because he is wary of her strength? She is the one who killed the guildmaster and her pure affinity is also well-known. That rumor about her being a princess is still going strong as well. Detaining foreign royalty doesn¡¯t sound smart. Or safe, which he probably cares about more.

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    ¡°Please. There is no need for¡ª"

    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± I snap. ¡°Everyone¡¯s delivered their messages so you can all get out. No, you¡¯re not detaining me and as much as I would love to use the excuse to snap that annoying bastard¡¯s neck¡ª" I jerk a thumb in Aurelius¡¯ direction. ¡°¡ªI have enough respect for this place not to get everyone else involved in my mess. So, make this easy on a lot of people and walk away. Right now.¡±

    The guards exchange glances for a moment. Then the one in the lead rolls up the order for my detainment and motions for the others to leave. Aurelius lingers, frowning heavily. ¡°What will you do?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern, is it? The Hall is a neutral party.¡±

    ¡°One of our instructors is involved.¡± He looks at Kierra. ¡°The Hall would prefer you not take direct action, as it would reflect poorly on us. I am also asking as a friend.¡±

    ¡°We are not friends,¡± she hisses, visibly crushing his overbearing affection for her. ¡°The Hall will not have to worry about me sullying their reputation for long.¡±

    The bald bastard startles. ¡°Do not do anything rash. I understand the desire to support your spouse but giving up a career¡ª"

    ¡°You understand nothing. I deigned to teach at this establishment to humor my Lou. Your Hall is worth nothing without her.¡± She scoffs. ¡°You dare call yourselves neutral. What a joke. Neutrality infers independence. You are not separate from all conflicts. You bow to every agenda to escape any consequence. Do you know what scampers from every predator in the forest, scared to be trampled underfoot? Pests. Rats and insects, scuttling about in the shadows.¡±

    Aurelius is not happy. It seems his rampant adoration is not so strong that he can tolerate being blatantly insulted. ¡°Your wife is a menace. She set her beasts on the city and killed two dozen hunters. The saints themselves wouldn¡¯t protect her and you want the Hall to risk its future and the future of all its acolytes? I can only hope that affection has compromised your reason and you are not so foolish.¡±

    ¡°Better a fool than a coward. The supposed strongest man in this kingdom and his little army are being ordered about by a simpering lord who quakes before the guilds and an idiot wearing a shiny piece of metal on his head on the opposite side of the land. Unfortunately, you do not have the excuse of affection clouding your judgment. Unless there is something you want to say?¡±

    ¡°Are you suggesting¡ª" He breaks into stutters, unable to speak the accusation. Prude.

    ¡°Enough!¡± I snap, cutting him off before he can force whatever nonsense he¡¯s trying to spout out of his throat. ¡°Kierra was promised this house for as long as she remains at the Hall. She¡¯s still here and she¡¯s telling you to get out of our home.¡± I¡¯m one second from throwing him out and am struggling to remember why I don¡¯t have my hands around his neck already. Something something too much trouble already. Something something not antagonizing the Hall.

    Except I don¡¯t have to worry about that second one, do I? Since I¡¯ve just been dismissed from the Hall and am presumably barred from returning unless my criminal status is solved. Who cares if I make things difficult for the school anymore? As for the first reason, trouble seems to come for me no matter what I do.

    ¡­why am I being polite with this asshole again?

    ¡°Very well. I will take my leave but I would like to extend an invitation to¡ª"

    He cuts off as he ducks a chair aimed at his head. A distraction that costs him¡­or so I thought. In that brief moment, I manage to cross the room but he reacts quickly, eyes glowing as the air roars between us. A spell, likely meant to send me flying backward as it does him. Too bad I¡¯m a lot heavier than I look. I keep running forward but just as I grab a fistful of his robe, a terrible shriek fills the room.

    It¡¯s so loud I can¡¯t hear myself think. I can¡¯t even stand. The world shakes as my legs give out, my hands reflexively covering my ears. Then I replace the insides of my ears with ooze and the sound disappears. I stand up, catching Aurelius¡¯ hand before he can draw his rapier. ¡°You¡¯ve had this coming for a long time,¡± I say, unable to hear the words.

    Then I punch him in the face.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-17

    As much as I wish Aurelius was only a nuisance, he is also a master caster. Combat isn¡¯t his forte, or so I once heard, but it¡¯s clear that he has experience in battle. But no experience could ever prepare him for my prime form.

    My fist manages to connect with his face, and it¡¯s very satisfying, but it lacks a lot of force after pushing through a block of air that I can only describe as ¡®thick¡¯. It seems to push against me, slowing me but not stopping me. A blow that should have thrown him into the wall, or perhaps through it, only snaps his head to the side.

    He gives up on trying to pull his weapon, throwing a punch of his own as I grab a fistful of his robe. His mouth opens in what I imagine has to be a cry of pain or surprise as he makes contact with my chin. Bet he didn¡¯t expect that to hurt. Swinging full force at me is not much better than hitting a stone wall.

    Hitting him is like punching a pillow. I feel no resistance as I drive another punch into his gut. Aurelius¡¯s legs shake and my grip is the only thing that keeps him from crumpling. Doesn¡¯t stop the contents of his stomach from coming up, rancid bile splattering all over my boots.

    The greatest weakness of any caster is a martial fighter in close combat. Doesn¡¯t matter how many spells you know or how large your mana pool is if a punch takes you down before you can fire a spell. That¡¯s why simple soldiers without a drop of talent in the realm of spellcasting make up much of the royal army and why knights still carry blades. The Hall forces every initiate to take a foundation class to teach them the benefits of a strong body¡­and the inherent dangers of having a weak one.

    In the end, unless they are exposed to the prolonged attentions of a melder, the strongest master caster is still just human, vulnerable to slashing, stabbing, and bludgeoning.

    My prime form is a caster¡¯s worse nightmare, as I designed it to be. Funny enough, Aurelius was an inspiration for my lovely form. I figured if I was sturdy enough to take a caster¡¯s first spell, fast enough to reach them before they could throw a second or fly away, and strong enough to put them down, or at least cripple them, with one blow, then I would be the match of any caster. Combined with my regeneration, I¡¯d be unmatched.

    Aurelius has proved the point. As I thought, a ceiling takes away his greatest advantage, preventing him throwing spells while safely flying far above any danger.

    Oh, hey! The bastard¡¯s feet are touching the ground. It¡¯s sad how happy that makes me.

    My happy thoughts are interrupted by Aurelius pulling himself together and looking up with glowing eyes. I slap him, a small chastisement. So what if it knocks a tooth free. A couple minutes with a good healer will have that fixed in short order.

    His shoulders start to shake. At first, I think he¡¯s crying and smile at the sight. I realize after he looks up with a wide grin and a bloody lip that he¡¯s laughing. His mouth begins to move and I restore my hearing with a thought, more than a little interested in what he has to say.

    ¡°¡ªfor you. You just assaulted an instructor of the Hall.¡±

    ¡°You think too much of yourself,¡± I sneer at the helpless master caster. ¡°Right now, you¡¯re just a trespasser who refused to remove yourself from my wife¡¯s home after being told to leave repeatedly.¡± I shake him. ¡°I know there¡¯s nothing wrong with your ears so that just leaves a problem with your brain. Or maybe your ego. Is that it? Do you think that just because you can cast a few fancy spells, you can do as you please?¡±

    I laugh when he doesn¡¯t answer. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. I¡¯m pretty damn strong now and the longer I have my new strength, the more apparent it is that the rules don¡¯t have to apply to me if I don¡¯t want them too. But here¡¯s the thing. It only works when you¡¯re the strongest. Otherwise, you just look like an idiot when somebody stronger slaps you around. Like this.¡±

    I slap him again, once again inordinately pleased by the gesture. Aurelius is less so. He spits out a bloody wad and glares at me. ¡°I¡¯ve already used one of those fancy little spells to send out a distress call. Soon, this estate will be surrounded by instructors and members of the Grand Watch. Enjoy explaining your ridiculous philosophy to them.¡±

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    ¡°Nope!¡± Rolly appears above us with a pop of color, shades of blue and yellow. She titters, a perfectly mischievous sound. ¡°Balled your little message up and threw it out. No one knows you¡¯re in trouble so no one¡¯s coming to save you.¡±

    ¡°What in the Abyss are you?!¡±

    ¡°A friend of mine. Don¡¯t look so surprised. I bet an insensitive bastard like you doesn¡¯t have any but people, from all sorts of realms, like me.¡±

    ¡°Hehe, look at his face Lou! That was the perfect plot twist!¡±

    ¡°What should I do with you?¡± I ask the suddenly fearful Aurelius.

    ¡°If you do anything to me, the Hall will never forgive you,¡± he hisses.

    ¡°Only if they find you and we have a lot of ways to make sure they don¡¯t.¡± Kierra could mulch him for the garden. Or turn into him into a bloody soup before pouring him someplace discreet. Bell could bury him deeper than anyone would care to look.

    Saints, I could swallow the bastard. The thought of permanently carrying his form with me is distasteful but there¡¯d be no trace of him left. Ooo, I could pose as him, raise all kinds of hell, and disappear. That way, they wouldn¡¯t even be looking for a dead body. Oh, that¡¯s almost worth remembering him every time I reach for a new form.

    ¡°Lou.¡± I look over my shoulder at the snow bunny. She is calm but her eyes are stormy, one hand covering her son¡¯s eyes while the other holds him secure in her lap. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to pry, but may I know what¡¯s going on here? Killing a man for not knowing when to leave seems a bit extreme.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Alana says, frowning heavily for having to share a sentiment with her sister. ¡°I know what an ass he¡¯s been to you but is it really worth alienating the Hall? They¡¯re kicking you out now but it¡¯s only until your criminal status is rectified, which we can do. You kill him, that¡¯s it. You¡¯ll never be able to set foot on this rock for the rest of your life. Think of the summoning records. Think of your friends. Cloud.¡±

    She¡¯s making good points. ¡°Kii? Surprised you have nothing to say about this.¡± Isn¡¯t this the part where she enthusiastically insists we slaughter the bothersome baldy and take on the whole kingdom?

    She sighs. ¡°I promised, my love. Less pushing, more talking, hm? It is your choice and I will respect it.¡± She chuckles as I gape at her, doubting my ears. ¡°But if it were me, I would snap his neck and be done with it. There is one creature more troublesome than cornered prey. Irrational prey. They become unpredictable. I am not interested in what ridiculous scheme this worm with wings will think of next.¡±

    Really, the decision should be a foregone conclusion. I¡¯ve disliked Aurelius from the day I met him. He¡¯s repeatedly tried to ruin my life, going as far as to accuse me of improper use of the mental affinity. Even now, with his feet touching the ground and one murderous whim away from death, he¡¯s staring at me disdainfully. I know that look. It¡¯s the look of someone who thinks they¡¯re superior. Or worse, thinks of everyone around them as lessers. Perhaps both. This man goes beyond arrogant to the realm of the entitled.

    As I stand in my home that I¡¯ve become rather fond of and have just been told to leave indefinitely, holding the man I¡¯ve considered something of a nemesis for nearly a year, I realize that he isn¡¯t the monster I made him out to be in my mind. In fact, he¡¯s nothing. Rather pathetic.

    What kind of sad man spends a year chasing after a woman that¡¯s made it clear that she wants nothing to do with him? He would rather believe that I am messing with Kierra¡¯s mind through my succbui than accept he has no chance with her. That kind of obsession is no different from madness and I cannot bring myself to care about a pathetic madman who I could kill with a backhand if I don¡¯t control my strength. Certainly not enough to give up on the largest collection of summoning records in the kingdom.

    There is one thing I want before I throw him out the door and hopefully, out of our lives for good.

    ¡°Why Kierra?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he asks.

    ¡°Don¡¯t act dumb. Why my wife? I understand why you fell for her, who wouldn¡¯t, but why have you been pursuing her so recklessly? You¡¯re not actually stupid. You¡¯re¡­well, you¡¯re a master caster with a position at the Grand Hall. I¡¯m sure there are plenty of women who¡¯d be interested in you. Maybe. You¡¯d at least have better chances with someone else, but you insist on chasing a married woman who doesn¡¯t like you. Why?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t¡ªahh!!¡±

    I grab his wrist and squeeze. ¡°Listen. I¡¯m trying very hard to be a decent person and even harder not to break you for petty satisfaction. I need you to do your part. Just tell me what I want to know. No matter how bad it is, you can¡¯t lower my opinion of you.¡±

    Aurelius glares at me, then at the hovering Rolly that is stopping him from calling for help. ¡°No,¡± he spits out. The determination doesn¡¯t last. After a few more minutes of ¡®encouragement¡¯ he shouts, ¡°Stop! I¡¯ll speak, I¡¯ll speak!¡±

    I haul Aurelius to the table and set him down in the chair I vacated, putting my hands on his shoulders. ¡°Go on. We¡¯re all ears.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-18

    ¡°Geneva, get our guest something to drink.¡± No one should tell a story on a dry throat.

    ¡°You called the creature something else before,¡± he says as she disappears into the kitchen.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for you to be asking questions.¡± I grab the closest chair and set it right beside him, intentionally too close for him to be comfortable. He leans his body away from me but my hand on his shoulder stops him from doing anything else.

    ¡°Why are you here? I don¡¯t think Dunwayne sent you.¡± If the goal was to ensure the city guards left peacefully, the last person they should have sent was someone who makes me want to commit murder every time I look at him. His problems with my family are common knowledge.

    ¡°When I received word about the delegation, I offered to escort them.¡±

    ¡°Of course you did.¡± From the corner of my eye, I see Yulia watching us intently, no doubt still puzzled about the series of events that have transpired. ¡°Before we get into your story, how about I recap our history? This all makes little sense without the proper context.¡±

    From the end of the table, Yulia inclines her head in acknowledgment.

    ¡°It¡¯s a common story. Man sees a beautiful woman and falls in love. Where our story derails is that said woman is already married to a beautiful, dashing, talented woman.¡± I smile at Kierra who playfully blows me a kiss. ¡°The lovestricken man has no chance with the object of his admiration but instead of rationally accepting as much, he devises a series of idiotic schemes to separate the happy marriage and take the woman for himself. The first of which is the application of charm. Too bad our hero doesn¡¯t realize he doesn¡¯t have any charm, being an arrogant bastard who¡¯s too good to walk on the ground like the rest of us.¡±

    ¡°The speed of mana cultivation is improved if done with a core that isn¡¯t full.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a myth,¡± Yulia quickly rebukes. ¡°The orders have researched the best training methods for centuries. Building a mana core is a matter of talent, pure and simple.¡±

    Aurelius scoffs. ¡°I don¡¯t care for the studies of northern barbarians. I can feel the difference between cultivating with a full core and without.¡±

    ¡°Both sides are incorrect,¡± Geneva adds, re-entering the room with a tea tray. She sets it in front of Aurelius, who stares at the pot as if it¡¯s full of poison. ¡°Building a mana core is dependent on three factors. The first is talent. The second is technique. All creatures¡¯ mana has a natural pattern that it circulates in, usually dependent on the species. But natural does not mean optimal. As my summoner can attest, a different technique can rapidly improve cultivation.¡±

    ¡°True. And before anyone asks, I¡¯m not sharing with anyone outside of family.¡± A technique that can improve how fast somehow grows their core? That¡¯s beyond valuable. The literal definition of priceless. It¡¯s a testament to my confidence in myself that I can even mention it out loud. If there was anything that could have people breaking into my house in the middle of the night and spiriting me away, it¡¯s this.

    ¡°So I am not excluded?¡± Yulia asks with a raised brow and a smile.

    I avoid her gaze and Geneva saves me from answering by continuing her explanation. ¡°The third factor is environment. To cultivate a mana core, one must cycle ambient mana. It only stands to reason that those who do so in places with higher concentrations of ambient mana will have faster progress.¡±

    ¡°We are supposed to take the word of a summoner¡¯s pet?¡± the ignorant master caster says with a sniff.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to take anything. Feel free to ignore everything you¡¯ve just heard.¡± You¡¯d only be hurting yourself. ¡°But look at us, we¡¯re getting away from the story. We were talking about the lovestricken idiot¡¯s attempts to win the heart of an already happily married woman. When charming her failed, he proceeded to stalk her.¡±

    ¡°I did not,¡± he immediately protests.

    ¡°Sure. So you didn¡¯t meet us the moment we arrived and proceed to follow us throughout the entire day, even to our home?¡±

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    ¡°I was your guide!¡±

    ¡°A position you volunteered for.¡±

    ¡°Many people were interested in escorting the new instructor. Someone of her heritage and abilities is rarely seen anywhere. I was curious.¡±

    ¡°And the reason you have volunteered for any job or duty related to us since then?¡± I press.

    ¡°I consider Kierra a friend. I was worried. Is that so wrong?¡±

    ¡°Worried, yes. Aurelius is quite the worrier. Remember when he was worried that I had used the mental affinity to charm the prince¡¯s little crush? And when that accusation proved to be unfounded, he still worried that my marriage was based on mental manipulation.¡±

    Yulia frowns deeply. Ah, yes. She¡¯s beginning to understand the kind of pain in the ass Aurelius has been.

    ¡°There was more than enough circumstantial evidence to warrant the suspicion.¡±

    ¡°Oh, please. Enlighten us as to this evidence.¡±

    Aurelius glares at me. ¡°Before you arrived at the Hall, you were an unknown noblewoman from a minor family. You are attacked on the King¡¯s Road and presumed dead. A year later, you return home with an elven bride, who is royalty, monstrously talented, and rich. To put it succinctly, she is beyond you in every measure. There is something unnatural about your pairing. Beyond the obvious.¡±

    ¡°The obvious?¡± He pointedly looks at Kierra, then to me, but doesn¡¯t explain, counting on us to read between his gestures. Which we all can. ¡°Have you ever heard that love works in mysterious ways?¡±

    He scoffs, lips twisting in disgust. ¡°A powerful elven princess falling in love with a penniless, talentless, lecherous, average-at-best, noblewoman that shames her by taking other lovers without the slightest hint of discretion and would provoke even royalty for her petty grudges? It begs belief. Perhaps the mental affinity was not involved but only an idiot would believe there is nothing more to the story.¡±

    ¡°Nothing more to the story, huh.¡± Well, he isn¡¯t wrong. ¡°So, you think there¡¯s a secret behind Kierra¡¯s love for me, because there is no way she could love me for who I am. And of course this secret must be something horrible, because I suppose you think I¡¯m just a horrible person for no reason at all. And, what? Do you think if you discover this secret and rescue her, the elven princess will fall for you and you¡¯ll live happily ever after?¡± I chuckle as he refuses to answer, turning away from me. ¡°She¡¯s not, by the way. A princess.¡±

    ¡°I am aware that she is merely of relation to the rulers of Dusk but it is a fitting title.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Are you also aware that even if we divorced today, saints forbid, she wouldn¡¯t look at you twice? You should be. She¡¯s been very clear about that.¡± I slap his shoulder as he refuses to respond and turn to Yulia. ¡°Understand why I hate this guy?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He is both hateful and delusional.¡±

    Aurelius scoffs. ¡°A James has the audacity to call me delusional.¡±

    The snow bunny¡¯s smile gains an edge. ¡°I do. Victorians are stubborn, perhaps irrationally so, but no one could accuse of being delusional. One man doesn¡¯t fight a titan alone or tries to kill a storm with a blade. You seek the impossible, ignoring the truth because it hurts your feelings. If you don¡¯t like being called delusional, childish also fits. My butterball also likes to throw tantrums when he doesn¡¯t get what he wants.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª"

    Aurelius cuts off with a wince as I grip his shoulder with a touch of strength. ¡°Now that everyone¡¯s caught up, we can get to the real story. Miss Alyssa, feel free to take a seat. There isn¡¯t going to be any more violence today.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t think there is.¡± The instructor takes a seat beside Yulia. Allen, oblivious to the tension in the room, reaches out to her. To my surprise and amusement, Alyssa looks to Yulia for permission before pulling the little boy into her lap, smiling softly as she tickles him. Aw. Who knew a woman with her temper could be so cute?

    ¡°Stop looking this way, damn pervert,¡± she hisses when she notices my gaze.

    I smile and turn away. ¡°Come on, Aurelius. Don¡¯t keep your audience waiting.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t play your game,¡± he grumbles.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a game. This is your opportunity to speak your mind. You see, I¡¯ve recently discovered that I am not a brute who delights in bullying the unfortunates of the world. I¡¯m also trying to explore less violent solutions to my problem. And while I¡¯m tempted to forget both of those things in regards to you, my will remains unshaken. This ends one of two ways. Either I beat you to death and disappear your body or you tell us why you are so obsessed with my wife.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell the grandmaster you threatened to kill me. I¡¯ll have you arrested.¡±

    ¡°Have you not been paying attention? I¡¯ve just been kicked from the Hall and I¡¯m already wanted by the law. Those don¡¯t work as threats. More importantly¡ª" I grab his chin and force him to meet my eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t do shit if you¡¯re dead.¡±

    I stare at him until he visibly surrenders, shoulders sagging and eyes drooping. He slouches in his seat as I release him. Hesitant eyes look at Kierra but, finally, he realizes there is no goodwill to be found in the object of his admiration. His gaze moves to Alyssa. ¡°You¡¯re an instructor of the Hall. A member of the Grand Watch. Are you just going to let this happen?¡±

    The redhead stops making funny faces at Allen to glare at him. The change is so abrupt, I can¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°I warned you. Dunwayne warned you. Everyone warned you. You may not have broken any rules or laws, but you¡¯ve been asking for a beating for a year now. I think a damn explanation is the least you can do. Besides, I wouldn¡¯t fight the monsters in this house for all the gold in the kingdom. I sure as fuck am not fighting them for you.¡±

    ¡°Not surprised an unlikeable bastard like you doesn¡¯t have any friends,¡± I goad the master caster reduced to a verbal pincushion.

    With all his avenues of escape blocked, Aurelius takes a deep breath and begins his tale.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-19

    ¡°Fine. The answer is destiny.¡±

    The room remains silents besides Allen¡¯s giggles as Alyssa bounces him on a leg, waiting for Aurelius to elaborate. When he refuses to speak after several long moments, I jab him in the side. He grunts but reluctantly continues his story. ¡°My family, the Silvari¡ª"

    ¡°I thought your last name was Errent,¡± Alyssa interrupts.

    Aurelius sneers. ¡°The true name of my family, my clan, is Silvari. And we have been prominent members of the magic community for generations, each of us having an exceptional talent for spellcasting. We are often born with powerful affinities, either greater ones or dual affinities. I was only blessed with the wind affinity but my talent for building my core rivals any of my ancestors.¡± He straightens up, chest puffing with pride. ¡°Something that is evident enough. I am a master caster at the young age of thirty-seven.¡±

    ¡°Is that impressive?¡±

    He looks scandalized by my question. ¡°Impressive? It can take an entire lifetime to become a master. I did it in three decades! Every one of my tutors considered me a prodigy! Dunwayne himself took an interest in my progress.¡±

    ¡°Oh, saints¡¯ blessed asses!¡± Alyssa groans. ¡°You never shut up about that. He advised you for a couple of months. When he realized that you had no aptitude for combat, he dropped you like a bag of shit.¡±

    ¡°He did not drop me. He was interested in my research in wide-range communication magic. We had a productive intellectual exchange before¡ª"

    The redhead scoffs. ¡°Oh, come off it. The grandmaster heard about a talented young air caster and checked you out, hoping to find his heir, but you don¡¯t have the stones to fight the way he does. Does everyone know how the great Dunwayne fights? No? Well, that old bastard is almost as insane as the rest of you.

    ¡°You see, he didn¡¯t learn to fight in a fancy school. He learned in a time when a student only learned what their master could teach them. Let me tell you, a highly accomplished master of magic doesn¡¯t take an interest in a poor and scrawny youth. The grandmaster only learned a handful of spells, including the two that define his style. His master¡¯s two signature spells, Monstrous Force and Force Transfer.

    ¡°They were his signature spells, but they weren¡¯t unique. Once the Grand Hall was up and running, Dunwayne found out that a lot of air casters had similar spells, passed down from their own masters. Monstrous Force increases the speed of an object. Force Transfer does exactly what it says, transferring the speed of one thing to another, bringing the first to a complete stop. Normally, those spells are used by drivers on long and dangerous roads. Dunwayne¡¯s master used them in battle, especially duels. Good way to throw an opponent off-guard. But his student took it a step further.

    ¡°Crazy fuck took Flip, a joke spell that uses a burst of wind to flip an object and started wrestling monsters. See, he uses Monstrous Force on himself and runs at them full speed. Then he slams into them with Force Transfer and hits them with a couple delayed Flips. The monster is thrown backward, spinning ass over end before hitting something extremely hard. If their head isn¡¯t cracked open, they¡¯re left completely disorientated. Probably puking up their breakfast too. Leaving them completely vulnerable for when he does it again. And again. Before he was known as the Harvest Hero, the old fighters called him Bucking Dunn, because fighting him was like being thrown off a bucking stallion.¡±

    She pauses, noting the many curious gazes around the table. I grin as she flushes slightly. ¡°What? I research famous fighters. It¡¯s a hobby, okay?¡±

    ¡°A respectable pastime,¡± Kierra assures her.

    ¡°I have an ice garden,¡± Yulia adds in an attempt to reassure her that her interest isn¡¯t the oddest one around.

    ¡°I¡¯ve discovered a growing passion for accessorizing,¡± Talia finishes, being the supportive flower she is.

    Alyssa huffs, mollified by their words. ¡°Yeah, well, Dunn¡¯s style of fighting takes a lot of skill and a lot of balls. Plate-head over there has the skill but not the guts. The style requires getting up close and personal to minimize mana costs. Fuck up a variable and the monster is crushing you, not the other way around.¡±

    ¡°Up close is an understatement,¡± Aurelius grumbles. ¡°You practically have to have a beast¡¯s jaws wrapped around you for the spells to have any efficiency. There are too many things that can go wrong and a lot better ways to fight.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like that metal toothpick at your side? That sure did a lot to save you from her, didn¡¯t it?¡± She inclines her head toward me. ¡°If that was Dunwayne, he would have flipped her on her ass and threw her through a wall¡­maybe. She¡¯s damn fast.¡±

    ¡°And a lot heavier than I look,¡± I add. ¡°Not so easy to throw me around.¡±

    ¡°I am a perfectly adequate fighter, despite it not being my area of expertise. Dunwayne agreed. That¡¯s why I was never taken on as his disciple and no other reason.¡±

    ¡°Sure. You didn¡¯t apprentice to the most famous caster in the kingdom because of mutual respect. We all believe you.¡± If my sarcastic tone didn¡¯t give away how much I don¡¯t believe him, the looks he¡¯s getting from the room would have. ¡°But let¡¯s not linger on this. We were talking about your obsession with my wife. Something about destiny.¡± I wave for him to continue.

    He sighs. ¡°As I was saying, the Silvari family has been magically talented for generations. The secret to that talent lies in our ancestor. Long ago, before the lands of Harvest were tamed, my ancestor, a knight, was grievously injured and forced to retire. That didn¡¯t stop him from serving the people. He took to the road, doing what he could to help the unfortunates of the kingdom. Peasants on the frontiers struggling against vicious beasts. Other injured warriors struggling for purpose.¡±

    ¡°Practically a saint,¡± I say with only a little sarcasm.

    Aurelius picks up on it anyway. ¡°He was a great man. And his generous spirit was rewarded, for one day he stopped to help the woman that would change his destiny.¡±

    He pauses, finally pouring himself a cup of tea. A pity, as it¡¯s lukewarm at best and I don¡¯t like him enough to have Geneva reheat it. After a long drink, he continues his story. ¡°He found her on the side of the road, holding onto life by a thread. She hadn¡¯t eaten in many days and couldn¡¯t walk another step, the pain from her twisted limbs too great to bear. His men, those inspired by his generous spirit, thought she was an ill omen and wanted to abandon the woman to her fate. My ancestor wasn¡¯t put off. He picked the woman up and carried her home. His servants cared for her day and night until she was well enough to speak. And she told him her story.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    His eyes move to Kierra. ¡°She was not human at all, but an elf from the Twilight Province. After losing a battle of inheritance, she was cast from her home, her form twisted and a poison preventing anyone from healing her. She was ready to die but my ancestor refused to give up on her.¡±

    A muffled sound makes me look up. Kierra has her head bowed and her shoulders hunched. I almost ask what¡¯s wrong, but Aurelius draws my attention as he continues his story.

    ¡°As he nursed her, the two became close. He sat by her bedside when she was in pain and took her into the city when she felt well, educating her on humans and the kingdom. He gave her hope. Eventually, she cleansed the poison in her body and healed her injuries. Only then, when she was whole and healthy, free to do as she pleased, did my ancestor ask for her hand in marriage. They did, secretly, as the old nobles, still sore from the Great War, wouldn¡¯t have thought kindly of a union with another race. Despite that, their love¡ª"

    ¡°Bwahahahahahaha!¡±

    The room turns to Kierra as she explodes with laughter. She presses her lips together in an effort to control herself but one look at Aurelius¡¯ confused expression sets her off again, this time laughing harder.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Yulia asks with a smile, the elf¡¯s humor contagious.

    Kierra¡¯s shoulders shake as she forces out her words. ¡°Him. His story.¡± That¡¯s all she can get out before laughing again.

    ¡°What?¡± Aurelius snaps. ¡°Do you not believe me? I assure you, every word is true. I am descended from Olma Silvari¡ª"

    Kierra bursts into laughter again and for the first time, Aurelius looks at her with frustration. ¡°What is it?!¡±

    ¡°Olma!¡± The elf fails to contain herself and pitches sideways. She would have fallen if Alana wasn¡¯t quick to support her. Kierra pats her shoulder as she straightens up, wiping an errant tear from the corner of her eye. ¡°Spirit, that explains all.¡±

    ¡°Care to share with the rest of us?¡± I ask my wife.

    ¡°Of course, my love.¡± She rests her chin in her hand and smiles at a visibly upset Aurelius. ¡°I have told you of the Twilight Province, hm? They are those who seek strength through breeding. The clans are normally divided by those they mate with.¡± She has our complete attention. Especially Aurelius¡¯, who leans forward, hung on her every word. ¡°Their breeding practices are, hm. Your kingdom would not approve. The whole of the province has a reputation for being amoral, perverted bastards.¡±

    ¡°Surely, you exaggerate,¡± the snow bunny questions.

    ¡°Some would say that Victory is full of suicidal war fanatics. How much of an exaggeration is that?¡± Kierra chuckles as Yulia winces. ¡°There is no act of depravity that the Twilight clans have not indulged in but there are things that even they have forbidden. Those who break the few rules they have are exiled, their limbs twisted and their bodies poisoned so they will never heal.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Aurelius asks. ¡°That my ancestor was some¡­some¡­criminal?¡±

    ¡°Criminal?¡± Kierra chuckles but manages to keep from going into another laughing fit. ¡°No, no. A mere criminal is not enough to be exiled from the clans. There is only one kind that Twilight cannot accept. The sick. Those with defects of the mind that lend them to disturbing insanity. The melders of the clans can bend flesh in fantastical ways but the mind is beyond their reach. The only solution is to remove the bad flesh so it will not contaminate the rest of the group. Your ancestor was a madwoman, one so, hm¡ª"

    ¡°Unhinged?¡± I supply, also having to stop myself from laughing.

    ¡°Yes. One so unhinged, those who pride themselves on being the worst degenerates in the world would not accept her.¡±

    I finally give into the urge to laugh. ¡°That does explain a lot!¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous!¡± Aurelius shouts, jumping to his feet. I grab his wrist as his eyes begin to glow, yanking him back down into his seat. A little too hard going by his grunt of pain but all he can do is glare at me. ¡°She was no madwoman. Otherwise, her husband would never have married her.¡±

    ¡°Being mad does not preclude her from being clever. She certainly had a sense of humor. I do not recognize the name Silvari but Olam is quite familiar.¡± She chuckles. ¡°It is the name of a woman in a famous story.¡±

    ¡°Ooo!¡± Rolly appears over the table in a flash of color, yellow as the sun. ¡°Storytime!¡±

    ¡°A short one.¡± Kierra clears her throat. ¡°Olam was a maiden like the full moon. Beautiful and bewitching, but aloof to all her admirers. Many breeders sought her for a partner and she entertained hundreds of advances but none could sway her heart. The succubus clan tried to steal her mind, the wyvern clan cared too much for fighting, and so on. The true story has a hundred lines for each of the clans. Olam could only stand the company of one creature. Her dog.

    ¡°It was a simple creature. Weaker than a child, dumb as a rock, and completely unremarkable. But she liked it because it asked nothing of her and showered her with adoration every moment of the day. In the end, she forsook all her many lovers and married her dog. On the day of her union, she proclaimed to the crowd of disbelieving onlookers that since the world had was filled with flies attracted to hot-smelling shit, she would rather spend her life with the beast that loved her.¡±

    Kierra chuckled. ¡°The moral of the story is that sometimes we must choose the best choice from a sea of bad choices. Your ancestor was this Silvari¡¯s dog. The idiotic beast that loved her without a thought in its head.¡±

    Aurelius¡¯ face is red with indignation. ¡°You know nothing. They loved each other. Even though they had to hide their marriage¡ª"

    ¡°Did that not strike you as odd?¡± Kierra interrupts. ¡°This woman is skilled enough to purge the poison from her body and heal her mangled limbs, but she cannot doctor her ears to make them more round? It is much more likely that she pretended she could not and insisted on privacy to hide her activities.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°That is not the only thing I question in your tale. Is it not interesting that this Silvari collapsed on a road that your ancestor, a man with a growing reputation for being a rampant do-gooder, just the kind of person who would take her in and care for her until she could heal herself, is passing by? Despite making it through the Enchanted Forest in one piece?¡± Kierra laughs and I join her.

    ¡°It was a coincidence! Destiny!¡±

    Saints.

    ¡°Does your family have an ancestral home? If so, I can guarantee you that there is a hidden space somewhere on your property that will reveal the true nature of your beloved ancestor.¡±

    ¡°No. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. My ancestor wrote journals about their time together. They were in love. They were perfect.¡±

    Wait a minute. ¡°Is that why you¡¯re so obsessed with Kierra? Because you want the same perfect relationship?¡± The pieces come together in my mind. ¡°And you can only have that perfect relationship with another elf. And the only elf in the kingdom is Kierra.¡± He doesn¡¯t say anything, which may as well be an admission. ¡°Saints¡¯ blessed asses, you absolute idiot. If you can only get off to elven women, why don¡¯t you go to the continent full of them?¡±

    ¡°How many could compare to Kierra?¡± He looks at my wife with a fervent gaze. ¡°She is smart, beautiful, and incomparably talented. The men of my family have fathered fewer and fewer children. I am the last hope of continuing the Silvari line but taking a common bride will spell our ruin. Then I meet an elven woman who possesses a pure physical affinity. The perfect answer. You came to me. Just like my ancestors. Don¡¯t you see? It¡¯s destiny! I don¡¯t understand why you can¡¯t see it!¡±

    ¡°Fucking Abyss,¡± Alyssa mutters. ¡°He¡¯s actually crazy.¡±

    ¡°Do not think too badly of him.¡± Kierra stares at him piteously. ¡°He cannot help himself. There is a reason the Silvari woman was cast out. Madness can be inherited.¡±

    ¡°I am not mad!¡±

    Moving quickly, I put an arm around his throat, pulling him to his feet. He slaps at my arm ineffectually as I squeeze just hard enough to stop him from breathing but not hard enough to break his neck. It¡¯s a delicate distinction. One I manage, dropping him to the ground after he eventually stills. ¡°He¡¯s completely mad,¡± I tell the room.

    ¡°Irredeemably insane,¡± Yulia agrees with a nod. ¡°I hope it¡¯s not catching.¡±

    ¡°Definitely deranged,¡± Alyssa adds.

    ¡°Unspeakably unhinged.¡± The other two give Kierra a look that she responds to with raised brows.

    ¡°¡­ridiculously raving.¡± Yulia smiles at Alana while Alyssa inclines her head in acknowledgment.

    ¡°Uncomfortably unsound indeed,¡± Earl contributes in a rare show of joining in on the fun. Glad to see he¡¯s been taking his studies seriously. Bonus points for the nod to Aurelius¡¯ sound attack.

    ¡°Disagreeably delirious!¡± Rolly adds with a melodious giggle.

    ¡°Lasciviously loony,¡± Geneva throws in.

    ¡°Coo coo!¡± [Annoyingly aberrant.]

    All eyes turn to me. ¡°Ah, come on. You all already took the easy ones. Uh¡­oh! Utterly unstable! Ha!¡± We all have a good laugh over Aurelius unconscious form, without a care in the world for a few moments longer.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-20

    Unfortunately, the harsh realities of our situation are quick to reassert themselves. Our humor wanes, leaving me with an unconscious master caster on my floor. More importantly, I¡¯ve just been kicked out of my home, my attendance at the Hall has been revoked, and I am now a wanted woman. Saints, I thought coming home would be the end of my problems, but it seems things are just getting started. Ah, well. It¡¯s nothing we can¡¯t handle. The only question is, where to start?¡¯

    ¡°Anyone have any ideas about what to do with Mr. Perfect here?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t kill him,¡± Alyssa says quickly. ¡°He isn¡¯t worth the shitstorm his death would bring to your doorway.¡±

    ¡°I know, but the thing is, Aurelius is the kind of crazy that even a mother couldn¡¯t love.¡± The elven ancestor he is so obsessed with was so insane, the Twilight Province exiled her. I can¡¯t even imagine. ¡°I had some hope that having him spout whatever rationale guiding his actions aloud would make him realize how ridiculous his pursuit of Kierra is but it¡¯s obvious now that there is no room for reason in his head. If he walks out of this house, he will bother us again.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t we report him to the Hall?¡± Alana asks. ¡°You said he didn¡¯t break any rules, but I can¡¯t imagine the school will approve of an instructor harassing initiates or other members of the staff.¡±

    Alyssa winces. ¡°No one in their right mind would approve of what Aurelius has done. Problem is, no one in their right mind would take on the trouble of sanctioning a master caster just to appease their morals. I know he looks like a mess lying unconscious on your floor, but Aurelius is a capable caster. Worse, he has a nasty habit of eavesdropping on, fuck, everyone. I¡¯ve got no proof, but I¡¯d bet you a bottle of Herbie that he¡¯s got dirt on a bunch of the staff. Saints, probably even the Guilds. He can be a very annoying enemy.¡±

    Saints give me the strength not to crush this bald bastard¡¯s shiny head beneath my heel, he¡¯s a fucking Grimoire. Or at least, one of their kind. Someone who abuses their affinity to steal people¡¯s secrets and uses them as weapons.

    I wouldn¡¯t disapprove so much if it was an action reserved for enemies but I doubt Aurelius is the kind to protect the innocent. In fact, I don¡¯t think he likes anyone, at all. He¡¯s always been polite, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen him show an ounce of good will to anyone besides Kierra and his motives behind that are far from pure.

    Is that it? Does this guy hate humans? Or perhaps he really, really likes elves to the point that humans are an unremarkable afterthought. Haha, I bet that¡¯s the real reason he doesn¡¯t walk amongst his peers. Having elf blood in his family tree makes him think he¡¯s better than us. Than everyone. I¡¯m amazed it¡¯s taken this long to learn how completely insane this man is. It¡¯s rather obvious now. And a little amazing when I think about it. I have no idea how someone with so much madness sloshing around inside his head can put on a sane front for so long.

    ¡°I have a proposal,¡± Kierra says. ¡°We give him what he wants.¡± She holds up a hand to forestall the immediate outpouring of confusion and disagreement that overflows from the group. ¡°Aurelius does not want me in particular. What he truly wants is to continue his family¡¯s legacy by taking an elven bride.¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Did you miss the part where he said you were his destiny?¡± Alana asks with disbelief.

    ¡°The key to speaking with the mad is not to contradict his delusions but to work within them. He believes me to be his destiny. Very well. I am the one destined to lead him to my home and return him to the Twilighters he is so proud to be descended from.¡±

    I huff. ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel right to give him what he wants.¡±

    ¡°Trust me, dedia. The clans are no reward. Especially not for the descendant of an exiled.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a problem? They exile the insane.¡±

    ¡°They do, but Aurelius is a special case. The clan that mates with humans is rather small. They will want to study someone with a single elven ancestor across multiple generations to see if the pairing is prudent. I would also bet my tree that this Olam Silvari¡­¡± She pauses, unable to hold back a chuckle. ¡°I am certain that she has done something to his family line. It is a Twilighter¡¯s nature.¡±

    ¡°¡­still feels like too much trouble to go through for him.¡±

    ¡°Not just for him. Do you not remember what I said before we left the north? The elves would love an endless war. Since the Hall has rejected you, is it not a perfect time to recruit an army?¡±

    That¡¯s¡­actually not a bad idea!

    ¡­wait.

    ¡°Is your mother going to try and fight me now that I¡¯m stronger.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Not a good idea. Not a good idea!

    ¡°No need to worry, Lou. You will survive.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point!¡­but besides that, it¡¯s a good idea. We¡¯d have to wait until we finish up this business with the March first.¡±

    ¡°And where are you going to stay until then?¡± Alana questions. ¡°Keeping in mind that whatever place you choose can be assaulted by both the city guard, the guilds, and saints know who else at any time.¡±

    When she puts it like that, is there any place I can stay? No, that¡¯s not the way to think about this. ¡°Is there any law in the kingdom that prevents someone who is wanted by the crown from buying property?¡±

    My question garners a lot of confusion from the room. I turn to Geneva, who smiles at me. ¡°There is no law prohibiting it. I assume lawmakers didn¡¯t think it necessary, as any criminals would be detained or too afraid to do something as brazen as buying property.¡±

    ¡°Is there any need for you to purchase the land?¡± Yulia asks. ¡°The order of detainment is only for you. The rest of the house is free to do as they please.¡±

    ¡°Sheltering a criminal is an offense punishable by up to five years of imprisonment,¡± Alyssa says. ¡°They might be counting on you all doing this. Wait for your lovers to try and help you, charge them, exchange their freedom for your cooperation.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± Talia confirms, looking thoughtful.

    I close my eyes and everyone perceptively gives me a moment of peace to consider my options. The problem is that I need somewhere to lay my head. However, any place I choose is likely going to be attacked if it¡¯s known I¡¯m staying there. But if I try to use someone else as I cover, I risk dragging them into my mess. I know my lovers are more than willing to take on the crown, but it doesn¡¯t sit well with me to make criminals out of them.

    To think I came to Quest with peaceful intentions, hoping not to inflict any more damage on the city. The saints must be laughing at me. No, they¡¯re probably shaking their heads in disapproval as I¡¯m about to fail my trial of saintly patience and restraint. Cosmo is the one I imagine I can hear cackling.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I say as I open my eyes. ¡°Earl, get the carriage ready.¡±

    ¡°Right away, my lady.¡±

    ¡°Hey, hey.¡± Perhaps through instinct trained in the perilous north, Alyssa senses the impending disaster. ¡°What are you about to do?¡±

    ¡°The lord of the city is the reason I¡¯m being kicked out of my own home. I figure he owes me a house.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-21

    My suggestion garners a variety of reactions. Kierra is of course completely supportive. I try to convince her to stay out of it, as it may force the Hall to cut ties with her as well. The suggestion annoys her. She¡¯s made it clear that she is only at the Hall for me. I almost think she wants them to dismiss her.

    Alana and Rolly are in the neutral camp. The lueorale is very much an observer. I don¡¯t think she will comment on any of my decisions unless it puts my life, and by extension our contract, in danger. She admires virtuous people the same way one admires heroes in stories. She has no such expectations of me and equally enjoys a villainous character.

    Alana is much more averse to the idea. While she agrees that my actions to save Howie were just and that my order to be detained is undeserved, she does not relish the idea of inciting more violence than what is necessary. A promise not to kill the lord and his family so long as he doesn¡¯t force my hand appeases her. My insistence that she stays behind annoys her again, to which she informs me that if I try to leave her, she will meet me there.

    The two that are firmly against my choice are Alyssa and Yulia. The instructor, a longtime resident of the city, is upset because she doesn¡¯t believe this will be as simple as throwing the lord out of his home. Once she realizes she can¡¯t change my mind, she leaves the house to speak with her guild connections. Her hope is that she can keep them from getting involved and making the situation much worse.

    The snow bunny is upset because I¡¯ve chosen a violent solution when I¡¯m supposed to be pursuing peace. Which I feel is a little unfair. Violence is too effective. I don¡¯t think the lord is going to absolve me of my crimes if I politely ask him to do so. Worse, if I surrender and allow myself to be detained. However, I bet being personally confronted with the consequences of my displeasure will make him think twice about crossing me.

    Her concerns that bullying the lord of the city will negatively affect our attempts at negotiation with the guilds seems a bit groundless. If anything, the guilds have less respect for the local nobles than I do.

    Regardless, our next course of action is decided. The only thing left to do is to pack my things. Something that does little to sway my mind about assaulting the lord¡¯s manor. With each item I stuff into to a bag or put in a chest, I¡¯m reminded that I¡¯m being forced to do this by selfish bastards who are messing with my life because I had the gall to tell them no.

    No, I won¡¯t become another Grimoire and let you use my succubi for whatever twisted agenda is cooking in the capital. No, I won¡¯t let you kidnap my friend so you can force him to make potions with morally questionable effects. And no, I won¡¯t let you try to plunder my wife¡¯s homeland for all its riches, getting all of Harvest killed in the attempt.

    Really, I¡¯m quite heroic. Time after time, I¡¯ve saved these people from themselves, like smacking the hand of a toddler to keep them from putting their fingers into a fire. Yet instead of recognizing my good deeds, all they can focus on is that I struck them. Well, forget it. I don¡¯t need their recognition. But they willlearn to leave me and what¡¯s mine alone¡­or suffer the consequences.

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± I say, closing the last bag. It was a simple task, as I don¡¯t own much. I have plenty of spending money, leaving aside Kierra¡¯s own wealth, but a lifetime of living frugally, by a noble¡¯s standards, has left me accustomed to making do with less. I hand the bag over to Bell who scampers from the room.

    ¡°Yes. The rest will take much longer to pack. It is a shame we left so many wagons with the Stars.¡±

    I glance at Kierra. ¡°Sure you want to leave the house?¡±

    ¡°I am beginning to think that you want to sleep away from me.¡±

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    ¡°It¡¯s not¡­¡± I know very well she doesn¡¯t mind following me into trouble. Saints, she revels in it. Emotions are irrational things. There is no reason to feel guilty but it¡¯s as persistent as a rash. ¡°Forget it. I won¡¯t bring it up again.¡±

    ¡°Good. It is a conversation better had with the star.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯m not digging another hole right next to the first. And, um, thanks. For¡­being you, I guess.¡± While I don¡¯t want to drag them into my troubles, I can¡¯t deny it would have hurt if they had distanced themselves. Being berated for thinking it was ever an option feels good.

    She wanders over and kisses my brow. ¡°You are welcome. Come. We will leave the pets to load the bags. I wish to take one more stroll through the garden before we tear it down. Perhaps we should invite Gajin. It might help with the pain.¡±

    I wince at the reminder of my gardener. Everyone had taken the news of me being evicted from the Hall, which means all of us being evicted, fairly well except for the flower-lover. He¡¯s always dreamed of a life where he can dedicate every waking moment to horticulture. Kierra¡¯s unique plants are his life.

    Being told that the garden will have to be gutted, as we¡¯re obviously not leaving the living green gold behind, gutted him. Not even being told we will build a bigger, better garden later was enough to cheer him up. I think it was barely enough to keep his heart from stopping on the spot. Ever since he received the news, he¡¯s been moping around outside, occasionally wailing in sadness. A little dramatic, considering he won¡¯t be losing any of the plants. They¡¯re just going to be potted.

    ¡°¡­maybe we can make a night of it,¡± I say, having a sudden idea. ¡°Here me out. This is the last night we¡¯ll spend in the house. We should have a sendoff. Set up a few tables in the gardens, some drinks, some food.¡±

    Kierra hums in thought. ¡°A good idea but a bit late. Not many would come on such short notice.¡±

    ¡°I think you underestimate the allure of Geneva¡¯s cooking. And yourself. Do you know how many people have been trying to get closer to you? A lot. And this may be their last opportunity to do so. Trust me. If we open the doors, the people will come flooding in. Besides, it¡¯ll give me the chance to announce my intentions to visit the lord of the city.¡±

    ¡°You intend to inform your victim before assaulting them? Bold. I suppose we do not need to surprise our enemies to decimate them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem.¡± I poke her in the side. ¡°We¡¯re not supposedto be devastating our enemies. We are looking for peaceful solutions.¡± With a little time to calm my indignation, I¡¯ve realized there is no way for us to storm the lord¡¯s manor without a fight. He may be a coward but even cowards care about their reputation. He¡¯d be forced to either put up at least a token resistance or never show his face in public again. But there is a solution.

    ¡°The lord cannot let a known criminal waltz into his home without taking action, but if said criminal were to siege his home while he was out of the city on business, well then there¡¯s nothing he could have done about that, is there?¡±

    ¡°Devious.¡± She kisses me to show her approval and we languish in it, the moment dragging on as we explore each other¡¯s lips. She¡¯s the first to pull away, smiling brightly. ¡°We must move fast if we are to gather enough participants. I will tell our star to fetch the other cubs you two play with and prepare the flower. A good party must have music, hm?¡±

    ¡°Good idea. I¡¯ll send Earl to do the shopping. Oh, he can stop by the Tall Tale. You won¡¯t remember it. It¡¯s the restaurant where we first met Arthur. Fun place where all the serving girls get into character and interact with the customers. I¡¯m sure they¡¯d liven the place up¡­if they don¡¯t think this is strange. Is it strange to invite a group of pretty girls you¡¯ve met once to your home for an impromptu party?¡±

    ¡°Yes. That is why you should send along some of Geneva¡¯s snacks to convince them.¡±

    ¡°Devious.¡± I copy her, pulling her down into another kiss. This time, I¡¯m the first to pull away. ¡°Speaking of, I should get her in the kitchen to start preparing food. Bell can help with the decorating.¡±

    ¡°And do you have a job for me?¡± Kierra asks, sounding amused by thought. ¡°In fact, I do. I want you to invite Miss Alyssa. More importantly, I want you to tell her about my plan and deliver my letter.¡± The woman does not handle stress well. I¡¯d feel bad if I let her fall asleep, or more likely drink herself into a short coma, worrying about the city burning tomorrow. ¡°And on your way back, you can invite your teacher friends.¡± There¡¯s got to be one member of staff that Kierra gets along with that isn¡¯t a crazy stalker. ¡°And Miss Alyssa¡¯s lackeys. What were they called? The Good Watch?¡±

    ¡°The Grand Watch, my love.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± That makes much more sense. ¡°Oh, I should send Bell to the Sanctuary to invite Cloud and whoever she wants to bring. Take my word for it. It¡¯s going to be a wild night.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-22

    The house becomes a whirlwind of activity as everyone readies for the impromptu party. Nomad and Anna handle the inside of the house while Gajin focuses on readying the gardens, the activity distracting him from his grief. Most everyone else is outside the house, running their respective errands, leaving me with just Talia for company.

    Everyone¡¯s mistress, as Alana succinctly described the ex-dorm mother, lounges on the bed, doing a few vocal exercises, as I drag a long box into the room. To save time and make traveling easier, we left quite a few things back in Victory. Some leftover stock from Howie, some of the building supplies we never got to use and Alana didn¡¯t donate, a few trophies from the campaign. There were only two items that absolutely had to come with us, besides our luggage. My gold and Alana¡¯s brother.

    The latter is what I¡¯m currently dragging into the bedroom. There were several discussions about the best way to transport Khan. The two largest concerns were keeping him contained and out of sight. People wouldn¡¯t take kindly to seeing a man bound and gagged in the back of a wagon, no matter our reasons. Given that there is currently an order for my arrest, my concerns about being reported to the local authorities seems irrelevant now.

    As usual, my succubus had a wonderful suggestion that eliminated all our concerns. Hibernation. There are plenty of creatures in the world that sleep through the colder months of the year, for matters of survival. A condition that can be artificially induced, keeping Khan both quiet and out of sight, disguised of cargo. We didn¡¯t even have to feed him.

    In the center of the room, I undo the locks on Khan¡¯s box, wrinkling my nose as I open the lid. He certainly smells like he hasn¡¯t washed in over a week. I suppose sleeping doesn¡¯t keep one fresh, an obvious oversight. I take in his peaceful features for a moment. Looking at him like this, it seems impossible that he¡¯s an enemy agent, mind-controlled to sow discord and chaos throughout the kingdom. That¡¯s what so insidious about those who abuse the mental affinity. You don¡¯t know anything¡¯s wrong until it¡¯s too late.

    But tonight is a night of throwing caution to the wind. Of ignoring our problems for one night and dealing with the consequences in the morning. Khan may be an enemy spy, or saints forbid something far worse, but tonight he gets to be just another merrymaker.

    On the top of the box¡¯s lid is a spell. It was put there in case of emergency, specifically in the event that Geneva, Bell, or Kierra aren¡¯t available to wake the sleeping man. Utterly unfathomable circumstances but since it isn¡¯t completely impossible and Alana was worried, the spell was carved into the box.

    There is no reason I need to wake Khan now. Everyone will be back in plenty of time to wake my sleeping brother-in-law. However, the campaign has made it clear that my lackluster approach to my magical education is a problem. I am not as strong as I think I am. Or, my strength isn¡¯t the answer to every problem. The titans, with their massive size, are too much for my prodigious strength and their magic can get through the magic resistance of my oozey base form. In one year, we have to return to the north and possibly fight dragons. If we¡¯re to stand a chance, the least I¡¯ll have to do is embrace my magical potential.

    In that spirit, I find myself curious about the spell. It¡¯s certainly worth the scrutiny. Hundreds of variables and coefficients all etched into the top of Khan¡¯s box. Surprisingly, it¡¯s not all gibberish. The activation and affinity variables are obvious. Beyond that, I recognize some variables that relate to different parts of the body from Geneva¡¯s few lectures on the physical affinity. They only make up a fraction of the spell.

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    I don¡¯t need to understand it to cast it but for the first time, my ignorance frustrates me. I must be frowning heavily as a soft hand caresses the back of my neck. Only then do I realize that Talia¡¯s humming has stopped. ¡°Is something the matter?¡± Talia asks, crouched beside me.

    ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong.¡± Perhaps something isn¡¯t right. ¡°Do you understand any of this?¡± I ask, gesturing to the top of the box.

    She hums beside me. ¡°No. I recognize many variables from healing spells I¡¯ve seen.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense.¡± Does it make me feel better or worse that Talia is just as ignorant about this as I am? Mm, definitely worse. I doubt very much she would be just as ignorant if this were a mental spell. ¡°Do you know who this is?¡± We haven¡¯t filled her in about all the details of our vacation, have they? We haven¡¯t as she shakes her head. ¡°Well, this is my brother-in-law, Khan James. Suspected traitor to the north.¡±

    ¡°¡­he appears to be in a state of slumber. Magically assisted?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    She leans forward, clearly interested. With her playing the role of a flower so well, it¡¯s easy to forget that she is a serious academic. Saints, the reason she¡¯s become everyone¡¯s mistress is the chance to further her knowledge and, by extension, her personal power. ¡°Then this spell is meant to wake him? A complicated process, it seems.¡±

    ¡°Definitely not as simple as slapping him across the face.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to cast it?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°¡­without confirming it¡¯s true design?¡±

    The strange question makes me turn to her. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Are you unaware of your elementals¡¯ natures?¡±

    ¡°That they¡¯re amoral, scheming monsters? I¡¯m well aware.¡±

    ¡°You are quite trusting despite that.¡±

    ¡°Well, they¡¯re certainly dangerous but they¡¯re rational creatures.¡± I point at the slumbering Khan. ¡°Messing with him won¡¯t give them anything compared to what they would lose pissing me off so there¡¯s no need to worry.¡±

    Talia gives me a look. To those unfamiliar with her, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s the same as every other look. Even to me it looks no different from her normally placid expression but, from the conversation, I¡¯m guessing she wants to say something but is hesitating as it may break her role as a flower. ¡°If you want to advise me, I wouldn¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°¡­I do not know succubi and I do know it is a mistake to think of them as human. However, I do know those of privilege. Whether it is talent, blood, wealth, or power, privilege breeds arrogance. And arrogance clouds judgment.¡± She touches my chin with two fingers as she leans closer, ensuring the whole of my attention is focused on her. ¡°You say they are rational creatures. That anything they may try with this man is not worth your ire. But what if the succubi believe that you will not discover their trickery? That there is no risk at all? Then why would they not attempt to grab more benefits?¡±

    I frown as I contemplate her words. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time the succubi have tried to sneak a plot past me. By the saints, Geneva planned to drive a wedge in my relationship with Alana as a catalyst for conquering the north. Shackling her by forcing her to only act ¡°in my favor¡± is not much of a shackle, as what she deems to be in my best interests often clashes with my own definition. Worse, she doesn¡¯t care about the means of achieving her ends, something I care about deeply.

    ¡°Forgive me if I speak out of turn, but while most think too little of the succubi, I think you may think too much of them. No creature is infallible or without some weakness.¡±

    ¡°¡­you make good points.¡± I grab her hand and gently squeeze the fingers. ¡°Thank you for the reminder.¡± Maybe the power of my prime form has made me too confident in more than one aspect. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything wrong with this spell but I also wasn¡¯t very strict with Geneva when I allowed her to put Khan to sleep.¡± If anything, the damage has already been done, but there¡¯s no need to tempt fate. ¡°We¡¯ll leave brother-in-law to Kierra. Come.¡± I stand and pull Talia to her feet. ¡°You can dress me for the night.¡±

    For Talia, the tiny smile flashing only a hint of teeth may as well be a face-splitting smile. Knew she¡¯d like that.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-23

    Our options for decorating are limited with such short notice, but the servants dive into the task with gusto. The house, always clean, is scrubbed from top to bottom until it gleams. Cushions are brushed and sprayed with faint perfume. A gust of wind banishes the dust along the ceiling and hidden away in high corners. Even the skulls are polished, the bones so white they appear to glow.

    The welcoming room is rearranged, the couches pushed close to the walls to make room for the decorative tables used in Rolly¡¯s summoning. More tables are set up out back along the manicured grass the precedes the garden, white cloths thrown over the longer tables and glass vases all that¡¯s needed to bring out the charm of the surrounding blooms, the scene lit by the warm glow of the fire affinity gems embedded in the black stone arch overhead. Gajin distracts himself from the unpleasant tasks ahead of him by creating unique arrangements for each table.

    One of our greatest concerns when leaving for the north was preserving the garden. Many of the flowers, especially those brought from the elven continent, still not sure how Kierra got her hands on those, are sensitive children that require precise environmental conditions to thrive. They wouldn¡¯t have survived the winter without Kierra¡¯s magic to support them. The second option was to keep the temperature regulated in our absence. As far as I know, that can only be accomplished through artifacts.

    Artifacts are items that allow someone to use magic independent of their skill or power. All that¡¯s needed to activate them is a sliver of mana. And, as Geneva has demonstrated, some artifacts don¡¯t even need that, working in perpetuity if constructed properly.

    Technically, an artifact can be made from anything. All things can retain mana. What separates high-quality materials and from low-quality ones are how quickly they absorb ambient mana and how slowly that mana dissipates back into that sea of ambient man. A blade of grass will shed mana as quickly as it¡¯s poured in. In general, the more durable the material, the longer it can retain mana. For iron, the rate is slow but not remarkable. Silver, however, is a great material and is popular amongst enchanters.

    The most valuable material for artifacts are those that can absorb ambient mana, meaning it doesn¡¯t have to be powered by a caster, and retains it perfectly. There are only two. Xanderium and affinity stones.

    It¡¯s hard to say which of the two is the more vulnerable. Xanderium, otherwise known as mana ore, is a strong metal that can be forged into powerful weapons. It can also retain mana of every affinity, meaning there its uses are truly infinite.

    Affinity stones are have much less variance in use. They can only absorb and retain mana of one type. That means that someone has to have a matching affinity to activate the artifact containing them. However, their deposits are more numerous, supposedly, they retain more mana than any other material relative to their size, and they absorb ambient mana at a faster rate than any other material.

    They¡¯re all precious but some are more precious than others. Stones of the four basic affinities are have the most deposits throughout the world. There are even plenty within Harvest. They are costly, but can still be purchased with gold.

    A stone of the greater affinities is far more precious. Mental affinity stone deposits are property of the crown. Physical affinity stones are reserved for healers. Null affinity stones can¡¯t be bought with gold, not even the Guiness family¡¯s sizeable wealth. Celestial stones? If there weren¡¯t the smallest slivers in the testing rooms of the capital, I¡¯d think they were myths.

    Enchanting is a relatively new practice in Harvest, making slow progress despite its popularity. While it has infinite applications, studying it is a trial. Enchanting uses an entirely different set of variables that can only be learned through trial and error.

    There is a popular saying in the magic community. Magic is boring and it¡¯s best that way. When magic isn¡¯t boring, it¡¯s dangerous. Adjusting spell variables one stroke at a time to find its enchanting counterpart is very boring, until it isn¡¯t. Then it¡¯s usually explosive.

    Despite its infancy in Harvest, enchanting seems to be prolific throughout the realms. Knowledge of it is valuable, incredibly so, according to my succubi. Which is why the Grimoires, with their limited contracts, couldn¡¯t compel it from their thralls. Not so for me. Geneva surrendered the entirety of herself to our contract, including everything in that powerful mind of hers.

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    In her usual pattern of overwhelming competence, Geneva is a proficient enchanted. Creating a simple artifact to maintain a pleasant temperature for the garden is well within her capabilities. All she needed was the affinity stones, obtained through the long reach of the Guiness Company.

    A few stone boxes that give off heat could have done the job but my elementals have an appreciation for dramatics. Or, at the very least, the grandiose. As a result, what could have been simple tools turned into large, black stone arches that crisscross over the garden. Wholly unnecessary for their function but quite artistic.

    Kierra softened the hard stone by growing vines along the arches. The view of the garden lit by a full moon and scarlet light from the affinity stones is a picture worthy of any painter¡¯s brush. I¡¯m sure the guests will be impressed.

    Every time I catch a glimpse of them as I survey the property, I understand Gajin¡¯s sadness. Despite the fantastical nature of magic and its ability to bring imagination to life, there are few magical wonders in this world worthy of admiration. Not the acts of mass destruction praised in tales of heroes, but the truly mind-blowing spectacles that changes how someone sees the world. This is the rare time magic hasn¡¯t been applied for destruction, but my house created something amazing. Now, because of ignorant hostilities, we have to tear it all down.

    Dwelling on the thought makes me angry so I push it from my mind. There will be plenty of time for vengeance and pettiness tomorrow. Tonight, there can only be goodwill. Hopefully, the fun I have in the next few hours will fortify me for weeks of endless horseshit and power-jockeying.

    The first to return from their errands is Alana. Hers were the least intensive, a quick trip to the Bronze Form to invite her hallmates that I suppose can be considered our friends. Three of the four.

    I like Marthe, the firebrand fire caster with a grudge against every member of the upper class. Somewhat. Being a noble, our interactions aren¡¯t always cordial.

    The brothers, Michael and Gabriel, shrank in my estimation after rejecting the invitation to join our team for the qualifiers but I suppose everyone can¡¯t be expected to have the unwavering loyalty of my future saint. I won¡¯t hold it against them, as I know what it is to be a mouse amongst giants. And Alana thinks well of them, which is reason enough.

    Of course, the last of her hallmates, Abel, absolutely isn¡¯t invited. The brown-noser who is happy to define his life by the noble ass his lips are puckered too hasn¡¯t liked me since the day we met and the feeling is mutual. I gave the man a chance, for which I was rewarded with mockery and disdain.

    Jokes on him now. He can rot in his undeserved notions of superiority while the rest of us have a good time.

    She pauses when she notices the changed front room, letting out a small sound before she drops onto one of the couches. I settle in next to her. ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± she mutters while kicking off her boots. ¡°Marthe didn¡¯t want anything to do with it until I mentioned there would be free food but I wouldn¡¯t hold out any hope. The brothers were a lot more hesitant.¡±

    ¡°Took some convincing, huh?¡±

    ¡°Lou, you¡¯re offering the best food and drink in the kingdom. No one should have to be convinced. I extended the offer. They can show up if they please. Gabriel was interested. I think he¡¯s worried about Abel¡¯s being their only connection here. Michael was petrified but I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s worried about you, your reputation, or being sociable. He''s a shy boy.¡± She sighs. ¡°Besides, the people I ran into outside the dorm were more interesting.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Mm. For some reason, your favorite pirate was lurking about.¡±

    ¡°That is interesting.¡± I forgot to invite the pirate-son. An unintentional slight. After his and Geneva¡¯s¡­date, haha, he makes for decent company. The reasons why don¡¯t bear dwelling on, but the results are hard to argue with. ¡°Did you invite him?¡±

    ¡°I did. Figured it was that kind of night.¡± She looks at me with a question in her eyes.

    ¡°You figured correctly. He should add to the ambiance.¡±

    ¡°Him and all his friends.¡±

    ¡°His what?¡±

    ¡°I told him we needed a crowd and he offered to invite acolytes from Graywatch. So, a bunch of pirates and smugglers will grace our home tonight. And William. I also figured that if the brothers warranted an invitation, so does he.¡±

    ¡°Good thinking. You¡¯re getting into the spirit of things.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± She leans toward me, laying her head on my shoulder. I put an arm around her waist and pull her closer. ¡°What are we doing, Lou?¡±

    ¡°I hope we¡¯re having a good time before it all goes to the Abyss.¡±

    ¡°A good time isn¡¯t going to change the fact that you¡¯re a wanted woman.¡±

    ¡°Shh.¡± I press a finger against her lips. ¡°Tomorrow, Alana. Our problems aren¡¯t going anywhere.¡± I sigh as she sits up, her hard gaze demanding more. ¡°After the debacle in the north, I was really looking forward to coming home. I wanted to relax. Sip some Herbie. Wrestle Kii. Pamper you.¡±

    I chuckle as she flushes. ¡°What¡¯s happening in the north is madness, sweetie. Despite my confident demeanor, I¡¯m a bit worried about possibly facing dragons.¡±

    She snorts. ¡°I remember when a prince was enough to practically kill you with fear.¡±

    ¡°No need to exaggerate.¡±

    ¡°Am I?¡±

    She squirms as I poke her side. ¡°The point, my bride to be, is that I want a little bit of that fantasy. I know it won¡¯t solve any of our problems but, for a few more hours, I want to pretend. Can you do that? For me?¡±

    ¡°¡­yeah, ok.¡± She leans forward and gently kisses me. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine a few hours will make much of a difference. One night of senseless fun it is. Even the knights feast before a campaign.¡±

    I hope our future isn¡¯t that grim, but I don¡¯t argue with her.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-24

    The next to return is Earl.

    While Alana and Talia conspire in the bedroom to ready my wife-t0-be for the night¡¯s festivities, my steward arrives with a wagon full of purchases. Most of it is food, enough to feed a small army from the look of it. There are also several empty wooden crates, likely for packing purposes, and more decorations.

    ¡°I think you will like these, my lady.¡± He comes to me to show off his acquisitions, starting with a medium-sized box filled with rolled up paper. He unfurls one, revealing a black and white drawing of a fearsome beast that resembles a lion except for its three tails and a horn.

    ¡°There is a shop run by a master water caster that produces these wonderful drawings. Magic allows them to mass produce them, so they are quite cheap for their quality. They go well with the skulls.¡±

    ¡°Are they all the same.¡±

    ¡°Not at all.¡± He pulls out three more of the rolls to show that each drawing is different. The mood also changes, ranging from terrifying to majestic depending on the beast¡¯s pose. The most impressive thing is that the quality of the drawings remains consistent, something that isn¡¯t guaranteed with even the best artist wielding a brush.

    ¡°A good find. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I thought we could make use of the color lanterns from Rolly¡¯s summoning. I grabbed more of those along with another item.¡± Out of another box, he pulls out a clear orb from within a bed of thick cloth. Then he pulls out a cone-shaped wire construct.

    ¡°This,¡± he says as he raises the wire thing, ¡°is placed on a torch, the narrow end pushed down until its snug. The orb is placed on top after the fire is lit. It produces a similar effect to the lanterns but stronger. I thought we could set them up throughout the garden, to facilitate the tours.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re outdoing yourself,¡± I praise. ¡°Any other goodies?¡±

    The question is sarcastic. I sent the boy out for food and didn¡¯t expect any of this. Despite that, his answer to my question is another box. Inside is purple fabric. Before I can ask what they¡¯re meant for, Earl pulls out a square of the same fabric. Stitched into one corner is a small golden book, a simplified version of the Tome family crest.

    ¡°I thought we could provide the guests with a small favor. A token so that all will remember the first party hosted by my ladies.¡±

    I¡¯m a little touched by his thoughtfulness. ¡°It¡¯s a great idea but isn¡¯t it too short notice?¡±

    ¡°I can produce a hundred in an hour. Teacher and Lady Bell would be much faster, even while handling other tasks.¡±

    I apologize for underestimating you. ¡°Anything else you want to dazzle me with?¡±

    I almost tell him to stop when he produces another box, but it¡¯s a small one. Also has a strange shape that is vaguely recognizable. He flicks open the latches keeping it closed and opens the top. Inside is a stringed instrument made of striking, scarlet-tinted wood. ¡°I thought Mistress Talia might appreciate accompaniment.¡±

    ¡°Of course you know how to play an instrument.¡±

    ¡°Yes, all the servants play. For Anna and I, it is a part of our lessons. Gajin says the plants enjoy the heavy beat of a drum. Nomad plays a strange instrument that he blows into but Teacher has refused to allow him to play with us. Apparently, his music is too dangerous. This is something called a violin, custom-ordered by Teacher. I am looking forward to joining her in a performance.¡±

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    ¡°So am I. It all looks amazing, Earl.¡±

    He bows at the compliment. ¡°Do not worry, my lady. We will ensure you and your guests enjoy yourselves.¡±

    -

    The next to return is Bell. The imp was tasked with extending an invitation to Cloud. She¡¯s the one I¡¯m most concerned about not attending, as she takes her duties to the manabeasts she cares for, her brethren, very seriously. If she is involved in any ritual monster wrangling, I don¡¯t see her disregarding said duties to join in idle revelries.

    Thankfully, Bell brings back good news. Cloud is excited to attend and more than happy to bring a few friends.

    I send the succubus to help Earl with his many tasks. Before they finish, Kierra returns with interesting cargo. Two large barrels sit on her shoulders and trailing behind her is Howie carrying a crate of clinking bottles. Bringing up the rear is his barmaid, Sara.

    Both look different than usual. The brewer has traded his usual scruffy shirt and apron for a much nicer shirt and pants. His black hair that he usually ties to keep out of his face looks less greasy that usual and is braided, the end reaching just past his shoulders.

    I wouldn¡¯t go as far as to call him handsome, the poor man¡¯s almost obscenely large and bulbous nose ruins any chance of that, but his appearance is¡­more pleasant. Certainly clean and put together, which is more than can be said for many.

    His barmaid has also polished her appearance, exchanging her usual brown dress and serving apron for a nice blouse and a red skirt. I don¡¯t often see make-up on women, given Alana could care less, Talia¡¯s fair skin doesn¡¯t need it, and Kierra can banish blemishes with a thought. The small amount of blush on her cheeks and her painted lips are a nostalgic beauty. Reminds me of my father¡¯s late-night visitors that I used to spy on as a child.

    ¡°Look who managed to wrangle an invitation,¡± I say as I approach the group.

    ¡°Bribed my way in.¡± He jostles his crate, the bottles inside tinkling merrily. In the usual, uncanny manner of succubi, Bell appears at his feet and holds up her little arms. ¡°Coo!¡±

    He gives me a look but at my nod, he carefully lowers the crate into her little arms. Once she has it, she scampers off toward the kitchen, Kierra following behind her.

    ¡°What¡¯d you bring me?¡±

    ¡°Some new things I¡¯ve been working on. Greenie has been on me to do something with fruits¡ª¡±

    I let out a theatrical gasp. ¡°What? You¡¯re giving up your work with mushrooms?¡±

    He scowls. ¡°Who said anything about giving up on them? Shrooms are the best.¡± He raises a hand to scratch his head but stops at the last moment, flexing his fingers instead. Mindful of his neat appearance, eh? I don¡¯t know why I find that so funny but I put a lot of effort into keeping the humor off my face.

    ¡°Fungi are far superior to mere fruits but the sweet stuff is better for certain things. Wine, especially. Can¡¯t get a decent shroom wine no matter what I do.¡± He shakes his head. ¡°I only stopped working with them because it reminds me of the clans. Let me tell you, the provinces love their wine.¡±

    ¡°Kierra reignited your interest?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Has a garden full of high-quality ingredients just sitting around. It¡¯d be a crime not to use them. And if I use them, the elf wants to be paid in more wine.¡±

    ¡°Well, good on you. If you start selling wine instead of the alchemical fire you call liquor, you might turn enough profit to get out of that hovel you call a bar.¡±

    ¡°Oi! My bar¡¯s perfectly fine, leave it alone.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. How about you, Sara? How have you been.¡± The last time I saw her was the night of Howie¡¯s kidnapping and she was a nervous, crying mess.

    She jumps, as if she didn¡¯t expect to be addressed. ¡°Good,¡± she says after a moment. ¡°Thank you, ah, milady. For helping Howie. And for welcoming us into your home.¡±

    I raise a brow as she ducks her head in a poor attempt at formality. What a change from the gruff young woman who dismissed me after being sure I wasn¡¯t a threat the first time we met. Is this gratitude? Or fear?

    ¡°No worries, I¡¯m glad to have you. We can all use a break, I think.¡±

    Howie winces. ¡°Bout that. Sorry, Lou. You¡¯re in this mess because of me.¡±

    ¡°Please. This was going to happen sooner or later. My succubi are illegal now and I haven¡¯t exactly taken care not to upset people. It was only a matter of time before I clashed with the kingdom. Granted, I expected the eventual confrontation to be less, eh, confrontational. But what¡¯s done is done and problems for tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°If I can help¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep you in mind.¡± I clap my hands. ¡°Now, enough of that look. No one¡¯s allowed to feel bad tonight. Let¡¯s go drown that guilt and dread in your new creations. As the organizer, I should make sure the refreshments are satisfactory before serving them to any guests, hehe.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-25 (Alyssa)

    As a member of the Grand Hall¡¯s staff, and a senior one at that, Alyssa had her own residence. A rather nice one but a poor deal compared to the house and grounds given to Kierra. Starting with the fact that it hadn¡¯t been gifted to her to use as she wished for as long as she wished. The instructor paid for her residence, either in service or in gold.

    It also wasn¡¯t as large as the estate gifted to the elf. A modest home all but the upper caste would be proud to call their own along a street with a dozen more houses of the same variety. She had enough space for a lawn in the front and a fenced off space twice as large behind the house for any hobbies, if she were inclined to relax outdoors. Alyssa had always been proud of it, having grown up in the tight confines of Victory, but it was hard not feel some jealously after spending so many afternoons having tea with Talia in the much larger home.

    The feeling was especially bad when her home was crowded, like now. She was beyond relieved when Kierra had tracked her down in Quest, something she had several questions about, to tell her that she and Lou weren¡¯t planning on kicking down the door of the lord of Quest and burning his estate to the ground.

    Then confused when she was invited to some celebration or other. However, she knew better than to refuse all she could eat of the succubus¡¯ cooking.

    The offer to invite a few friends left her annoyed. Alyssa had several working relationships throughout the Hall and the city, but very few of them were close enough that she would consider inviting them. Unfortunately, she knew for a fact that every single of one them would want an invite into the elf¡¯s home and would have choice words for her if they weren¡¯t gifted the honor.

    Alyssa had never bought into the social jockeying that seemed to be the norm south of Victory. While it was going to be annoying hearing countless people whine about not being invited, the future troubles hadn¡¯t swayed her decision in the least.

    Kierra hadn¡¯t given her a hard limit of people she could invite but she didn¡¯t want to push the boundaries of propriety too much. In the end, she settled on six.

    The first three hadn¡¯t taken any thought. She had a small group she considered close friends, or as close as she let anyone get. Two of them were fellow instructors. First was Sir Brutus, an ex-knight that grew tired of being the errand boy for his patron house and decided to become a foundation instructor. They met through the guilds. Alyssa took hunting contracts from time to time. Brutus liked to organize duels for his more advanced students against hunters. Their tactics were more varied than the more rigid teachings of the Hall and a loss wouldn¡¯t stain their reputation amongst the other acolytes, something that allowed the young fighters to perform much better.

    Despite his rough-sounding name given by a callous father, Brutus was a mild-mannered man with an equal appreciation for the finer things as he had for bashing skulls. Better, he made for a good drinking partner.

    Her second guest was another instructor. Cynthia Oriole, a talented alchemist and merchant. Had she focused her talent for balms, salves, and potions on either healing or hunting, she¡¯d be famous throughout the kingdom. Instead, she used her gift for the sake of beauty.

    Her wrinkle-reducing creams and weight-loss potions were mocked by most of the scholarly alchemists, but they were valuable and were alwayssold out. Cynthia didn¡¯t have much prestige but she had plenty of money. If not for Kierra, Alyssa would say the alchemist was the richest person she knew. She had also been trying to get closer to Kierra since the elf appeared at the Hall.

    The last of the three obvious choices was Lane Macklemore. Alyssa had known the young fire caster for years. Plenty of people thought of him as her disciple but that wasn¡¯t right. Though she had taught him for many years, he wasn¡¯t a dedicated student. More of a hanger-on.

    He¡¯d taken every class she offered so, officially, there was nothing else for her to teach him. Yet, he continued to hang around. He asked if she needed an assistant for her classes. She did and he knew how to make himself useful so she agreed. After that, it was joining the Grand Watch, the Hall¡¯s peacekeeping force, that she was an established member of. During a few lean months, she let him stay in her guest room in exchange for doing chores. He was just¡­around.

    Before she knew it, Alyssa was accustomed to that. During her whole vacation, which she¡¯d badly needed after the events of the qualifiers, she¡¯d felt something was off but hadn¡¯t realized it was her missing lackey until Lane had greeted her with a bottle of brandy she refused to drink.

    An odd group to be her closest friends but they were what she had. The next three had taken a lot more thought. Two of the places were taken up by strangers, as she¡¯d given leave for Sir Brutus and Cynthia to invite someone. A thought that occurred to her because Cynthia always had a date to any function and the ex-knight deserved the same opportunity. The last person she chose was a mixture of business and pleasure.

    Jack was an ordinary man with the most common background in Quest. A boy from a simple background who sought fame and fortune through hunting manabeasts. He found his way to the city of adventure and joined One For All, starting from the very bottom as one of the guild¡¯s workers as he learned the basics.

    He hunted for several years on different teams until a fight injured his leg. Then he took to instructing the next generation. When he grew tired of that, he turned to working the counter, doing the boring administrative work that grew more appealing the older one got.

    Alyssa had made his acquaintance before every stepping foot on the floating rock she lived on. Jack wasn¡¯t a very powerful man, but he had a good head on his shoulders and many connections throughout the guild. He wasn¡¯t very powerful and he had tasted defeat, his youthful recklessness beaten out of him and replaced by caution and temperance. He had no position and he had no ambition. There was nothing at all to cloud his judgment.

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    That was why Alyssa wanted him at the party. In an effort to make amends for her poor behavior against Lourianne and her house, literal and metaphorical, the instructor had taken it upon herself to help in matters regarding the March. Her goal was to resolve the situation without any more violence. A hopeless goal.

    She¡¯d settle for the least amount of death she could manage. And the biggest obstacle to peace, in her opinion, was a lack of perspective on the part of the guilds. The poor hunters, with no experience with the zealotry of the north of the insanity that was Lourianne Tome, couldn¡¯t fathom what they were up against. Because of that, they were split on their approach. Some wanted to negotiate. Some wanted to fight. No one wanted to give up and take the unexpected shafting with grit teeth, their best option for continued survival.

    It was her hope that if someone the hunters trusted, someone with no possible ulterior motives, could see Lou and the threat she posed with their own eyes, then she could start making headway in convincing them. Or, at the very least, her words would carry a little more weight. So, she lured her old friend with the promise of the best food to ever grace his tongue and good drink.

    They made quite the sight, all seated and standing in her living room. Alyssa was their key to enter Kierra¡¯s domain and no one wanted to risk walking up to the front door without her. As a result, it was established they would all gather at her place before heading over to Kierra¡¯s house together.

    The first to arrive was Jack, as she grabbed him while returning from the city. The man wasn¡¯t exactly dressed to impress, still in his work clothes and sporting a scruffy beard in need of a trim. Alyssa wasn¡¯t sure if he was unaware of the situation he was walking into or he simply didn¡¯t care to clean himself up. Either way, he had parked himself on one of her couches, content to sip through a bottle of Herbanacle until it was time to leave.

    Lane was the next to appear. She had used a messenger service to deliver word of her invitations to her friends. Her lackey arrived at her door in under an hour. Given it would have taken at least twenty minutes for the messengers in the Grand Market to reach his room in one of the staff dormitories and another fifteen for him to reach her home, he had gotten ready in an impressive amount of time. The young man was clearly excited, something his big smile would have given away as he stood in her doorway if his timing didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Hey boss! I¡ª" He paused as he stepped inside and noticed the conspicuous form of Jack already seated. ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Jack, Lane. Lane, Jack. Take a seat, grab a drink.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright, I guess.¡±

    The introduction hadn¡¯t gone well. Jack was a gruff man who didn¡¯t speak unless he had something to say, a trait Alyssa appreciated. Lane was affable enough to counter most stoic demeanors but his social charms seemed muted in the presence of the retired hunter. The young man was clearly uncomfortable with him, but Alyssa didn¡¯t care to delve into whatever problem her lackey had with her old friend, ignoring them both as she sipped on her own cup of shroom juice.

    The stiff silence lasted until the next person knocked on her door. It was Brutus. Lane had cleaned up his appearance, combing his hair and putting on a nice shirt. That was the most a poor acolyte could manage. An instructor had a lot more crowns to spend on their wardrobe.

    Brutus was dressed in a tailored shirt that tightly fit his broad chest and dark pants, paired with a long jacket. Alyssa was mildly surprised that he had in fact, brought a date, a quiet woman the redhead vaguely recognized as another member of staff who introduced herself as Marie. The foundation instructor accepted a drink while they waited for the last guest to arrive, but his date refused. Jack, recognizing a kindred spirit, poured Brutus¡¯ cup for him and they soon delved into exchanging war stories.

    Alyssa wasn¡¯t surprised that Cynthia showed up last. The woman loved drama, dramatic gestures most of all. The redhead would believe it if someone told her that the alchemist had someone watching her house, ready to inform her when everyone else had arrived so she could make the most memorable entrance. And, as expected, she brought a date.

    Her usual kind; far too young, far too handsome, and oozing charm. Pretty boys with broad shoulders and soft hands. Alyssa really hated the boys her friend always entertained. They always looked at her funny, fishing to see if she shared her friend¡¯s tastes, which she very much did not. More often than not, it led to uncomfortable atmospheres.

    ¡°Ally!¡± Cynthia¡¯s greeting was undoubtedly the most spirited, wrapping the redhead in a hug before kissing her cheeks. ¡°Have I told you how much I love you lately? Wrangling me an invite to a party hosted by our dear elf. Oh, I¡¯m so excited! The last time was an absolute blast. Ah, don¡¯t be shy, dear. Ally, this is Farran, an old student of mine. He was just popping around for a chat when your messenger knocked on my door.¡±

    ¡°Miss Filagree, it¡¯s been some time. You might not remember me but¡ª"

    Alyssa cut off the rest of his spiel by practically dragging them both inside. Cups were handed over, Herbanacle was poured, and the pre-party preparations began. Or, the part where Alyssa subjected herself to her friends¡¯ many questions. It wasn¡¯t unreasonable for the attendees to be curious about their hosts. Alyssa answered them and threw out a few warnings.

    ¡°Lou is a pervert. Her wife is a pervert. Pretty sure blondie is a pervert too. Wouldn¡¯t be shocked if her servants are perverts. Or her friends. It¡¯s a fucking house of perverts and they¡¯re not shy. I don¡¯t think they¡¯re going to bang in the middle of the room, but they are not reserved. Just letting you know. Don¡¯t try to scold them for it. Best case, they laugh at you. Worst case, they throw you out a window.¡±

    ¡°Lou is pretty easy-going. Very tolerant to women. Stupidly massive flirt but completely harmless. I¡¯m looking at you, Brutus. Don¡¯t give me that look. I¡¯ve seen too many men do too many stupid things because someone said the wrong thing to a woman they were interested in. Lou will probably say something but it¡¯s really harmless. Trust me, I¡¯ve been around it enough. Save yourself some anger.¡±

    ¡°There is one thing that Lou is not easy-going about. Her harem or whatever the fuck they have going on. What¡ªdon¡¯t look at me like that, Cynthia. I don¡¯t ask those kind of questions. I know she¡¯s involved with Kierra, Alana James, and Umphrieltalia.

    ¡°Fuck! Don¡¯t squeal like that! Yes, that Talia. Yeah, the rumors were right. Anyway, be extra nice to the ladies and men, hands off. Saints, eyes off just to be careful. Lou does not fuck around with her women. I¡¯m looking at you, pretty boy. Flash that smile in the wrong direction and you¡¯re likely to get your ass kicked. And for the love of all that is saintly, don¡¯t try your shit on Lou. It¡¯s just begging to get embarrassed.¡±

    Once the warnings were delivered and everyone finished their drinks, Alyssa led them out to the carriages she¡¯d hired for the night and the group headed off toward Kierra¡¯s house.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-26 (Alyssa)

    The women rode in one carriage and the men in the other. Originally, Alyssa intended to ride with Jack and Lane, leaving the two couples to socialize and sparing her the uncomfortableness of being trapped in small confines with a flirting Cynthia. Unfortunately, she¡¯d have to be blind to not notice the tension between Lane and Jack, even if she couldn¡¯t imagine why it was there.

    She suspected her poor lackey didn¡¯t have much experience with old, grumpy men, splitting his time between her and other acolytes. Her second preference, riding by herself, would have been too selfish. The carriages available for hire in the Grand Market were fairly nice, with shuttered windows and plush benches, but far from spacious. Cramming six people into one, even for a relatively short trip, was borderline torture.

    The current compromise was the best of the possible configurations, but it didn¡¯t come without its trials. Specifically, an excited alchemist. ¡°Oh, this is going to be so much fun!¡± Cynthia said excitedly as they rode toward their destination. ¡°I wish I had more time to prepare. I would have ordered a dress and accessories. I hope I don¡¯t embarrass myself in these rags.¡±

    Alyssa looked at the Cynthia dress. As usual, the woman¡¯s clothes skirted the edge of propriety. It was a tight black number made of a fabric that seemed to catch the light. It was laced up, but in the front, not the back. It wouldn¡¯t have been so bad if the strings had been done tightly but they were purposely left loose. Combined with the low v-neck, a scandalous amount of skin was on display from her waist to her collarbone.

    A diamond necklace hung from her neck, hoops dangled from her ears, and golden bangles covered her wrists. She caught flashes of red whenever Cynthia adjusted the white shawl around her shoulders or played with her dark hair with the slightest amount of wave to it. She looked gorgeous, as she always did. One did not dress casually as the face of a beauty company.

    Then she looked down at her own scarlet robe, her work clothes, then over to Marie¡¯s simple white dress. If the alchemist was wearing rags, what were they dressed in? Trash?

    ¡°And I would have gotten a gift. Nothing for the house as you say Kierra won¡¯t be staying. A terrible loss for the Hall, but these things can¡¯t be helped. Perhaps some bath salts. She mentioned to me she likes a good soak. Or maybe a good dagger.¡±

    ¡°Should we have brought gifts?¡± Marie asked, looking worried.

    ¡°No,¡± Alyssa said forcefully. ¡°They don¡¯t need anything we could get our hands on.¡± It was almost offensive how luxurious Lou and Kierra¡¯s lives were.

    ¡°I see. Forgive me if I¡¯m being oblivious or something, but what¡¯s really going on tonight? The rumors of Lourianne Tome being dismissed from the Hall even reached me in the dark corner of Historical Studies.¡± Marie sighed, briefly lamenting the struggle in teaching such a mundane discipline in the most magical institution in the kingdom. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly something to celebrate¡­is it?¡±

    ¡°I have to agree. You would think they would take the opportunity to disappear into the night like proper scoundrels.¡±

    Alyssa scowled as two pairs of eyes turned to her. ¡°Why are you looking at me? I don¡¯t know what goes on in those crazy people¡¯s heads.¡±

    ¡°You have to be somewhat close to them. You¡¯re getting us an audience with Kierra Atainna. I¡¯ll have you know not even the king or the Guiness patriarch can manage such a feat.¡±

    ¡°For some reason, both of them have¡­taken a liking to me, I suppose. Kierra sees a kindred spirit in the traditions of the north, which is one reason in a rapidly growing list that I¡¯m never going south of Harvest. My face is a good enough reason for Lou.¡±

    Alyssa wasn¡¯t arrogant about her looks, but she knew she was a good-looking woman. It was her green eyes. They were narrower than her mothers¡¯ but slightly upturned at the ends. Cat-like had been used to describe them more than once. They made the rest of her rather plain features noteworthy, lending her a natural air of intimidation.

    Most were unnerved by her gaze, but she always had unprecedented success with those who liked their women¡­aggressive. Lou was married to Kierra. Even Alana, a Victorian, was quicker to violence than most. It was obvious she had a type.

    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate yourself. I look like this¡ª" Cynthia gestured to her face. ¡°¡ªyet the rumored most lecherous woman in the whole kingdom didn¡¯t seek me out. You¡¯ve got more than a pretty face, Ally.¡±

    The redhead grumbled and turned away. ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing for a married brat.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so quick to dismiss the possibility. There¡¯s got to be a reason so many women are infatuated with Lou. Maybe the reason you¡¯ve been ignoring poor Lane for so many years is because you want to try a different kind of meat.¡±

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    ¡°Oh, for saints¡¯ sake, not this again!¡± Alyssa turned her gaze to the ceiling, silently praying for saintly intervention. ¡°For the last time, Lane is not in love with me.¡±

    ¡°Ally, please. You¡¯re not blind. Or deaf.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know?¡± Marie asked incredulously. ¡°It¡¯s so obvious.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it? The man would have to pull out his heart and offer it to her to be any more obvious.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying he doesn¡¯t care for me.¡± That was obvious and though it would pain her to say so out loud, she cared for her doggedly loyal lackey as well. ¡°But it¡¯s a different kind of care. Not everything is about sex.¡±

    Cynthia laughed uproariously.

    ¡°He hasn¡¯t said a damn word about¡­affection. Hasn¡¯t made a single attempt to come on to me, drunk or sober. Fuck, he doesn¡¯t even steal glances at my chest. He outright denies any kind of attraction.¡±

    ¡°Probably because he¡¯s terrified of you,¡± the alchemist replied after smothering the last of her chuckles. ¡°Or of rejection. Confessing your feelings to the object of your admiration is never easy. I imagine your crush scoffing at the thought of you being together and treating you like a stupid adult or slightly mature child doesn¡¯t help. If he tells you how he feels, it¡¯s all over. You¡¯ll push him away. I don¡¯t think the poor man would know what to do with himself if he couldn¡¯t follow around after you.¡±

    ¡°Have you had enough?¡± Alyssa asked drolly, tired of playing her friend¡¯s game.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll let the matter drop with one last word. Keep your mind open to the possibilities. You¡¯re not getting any younger, Ally. If you don¡¯t want to settle down with a husband poised to spoil you rotten, at least have a little fun before you wake up with aching bones.¡±

    -

    Soon enough, they arrived in front of Kierra¡¯s estate. And they weren¡¯t the first ones. Arranged at the end of the drive were several other carriages, a group of people standing before them. It was obvious enough that they were there for the party, but they seemed hesitant to approach. Alyssa stuck her head out of her carriage and yelled out to them. ¡°Oi! Why are you idiots blocking the road?¡±

    The group shifted and someone stepped forward. A tall young man with neatly combed dark hair and a well-trimmed goatee. His face spoke of youth but there was an age to his eyes that gave him an air of maturity, an image aided by his dark shirt, dark leather vest, and tailored pants. It took a few moments of appraisal, but she eventually recognized the man as Arthur, one of Lou¡¯s teammates from the qualifiers. He¡¯d been a foul-mouthed, damn near psychotic piece of shit during his interview. Now, his manner was intense but reserved. Like a predator at rest.

    ¡°Sorry about that. Just need a moment to get these idiots moving.¡± At his words, she noticed that the group was divided, Arthur and three other people wearing too much leather making up one group while a young man that also looked familiar stood in front of two other boys, one which looked far too young to be invited to a party hosted by Lourianne Tome. ¡°Come on, Will. More people are showing up so we¡¯re not too early.¡±

    The name jogged Alyssa¡¯s memory. The young man was William, another member of Lou¡¯s qualifier team. He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his ear. ¡°Ah, my apologies. I feel a bit silly now. One moment.¡±

    Alyssa pulled her head back into her own carriage, huffing at the thought of spending the evening surrounded by brats. Soon enough, they were moving again and it was time to disembark. The first word that came to mind when she saw the house was colorful. Standing torches with globular tops lined the dirt road that led to the house, the colored glass throwing iridescent light over the garden. Alyssa abruptly stiffened when she saw the first menacing shadow, but it only took a moment to understand that they were only the shadows of manabeasts, flickering and dancing throughout the garden.

    A servant waited at the front door, directing them to park around the side. If Alyssa only judged from his sickly pale skin and the dark bags under his darker eyes, she would think that the man had been trapped in a dungeon for a decade before being let out of the darkness to help with the busy night. His clothes spoke against such a conclusion, the purple jacket with golden buttons and dark pants the same high-quality as the uniform of Lou¡¯s young steward. He wasn¡¯t skinny and didn¡¯t have any visible injuries. Alyssa was reasonably certain he wasn¡¯t being mistreated. Despite that, he didn¡¯t appear to be a very joyful person. An impression cemented by his greeting.

    ¡°The mortals walk into the dwelling of stars, unwary that they may be blinded by the light and cast into eternal darkness. Waking up means forgetting one¡¯s dreams. Rebirth means that first the vessel must die. The bittersweet beckons, drawing those of desire like beating wings to flame.¡±

    ¡°¡­pardon?¡± William asked after the spiel.

    The servant stared at him for several long moments. Then he sighed, a sound so tired and utterly exasperated, Alyssa had the impression the poor man who looked he hadn¡¯t had a restful night in all his life was breathing out his soul.

    ¡°Mind your drink. The lady is not responsible for what you do because you don¡¯t know your limits. Thievery will not be tolerated. Those caught taking things they shouldn¡¯t will have their fingers fed to flocketts. Any questions?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a flockett?¡± A girl wearing leather pants and a leather top that exposed her midriff asked, something Alyssa bet had to be uncomfortable given the cool night.

    ¡°Small creatures that eat anything, including people. Any more questions?¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± William asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you before.¡±

    ¡°Nomad. Any more questions?¡±

    Alyssa scoffed. ¡°Can everyone shut up and go inside?¡± The small group all looked at her before turning to the servant. He watched them with a bored expression, holding his silence as he hadn¡¯t been addressed. ¡°Thank the saints. Hey, no more questions. Let us in.¡±

    Nomad bowed, showing both formality and a grace Alyssa would have never expected. ¡°Welcome to my lady¡¯s home, where troubles politely wait at the door. May this be a night you never forget.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-27

    Howie is an excellent brewer but what makes him one is not the strength of his drinks but rather the strange effects they can induce. Effects that not even my particularly resilient constitution is immune to. Some of these effects can be beneficial, like the Shroom Sanity the guilds wanted to buy by the barrel. The drink somehow makes the drinker resistant to mana intrusion, a defense against the mental affinity.

    Most of the effects are strange. I¡¯ve had drinks that burn going down but freeze once they reach my stomach, making me feel as if there¡¯s a black of ice in my gut. I¡¯ve had drinks that do funky things to my vision outside of the Myriad Zone, distorting colors and twisting images. I¡¯ve had drinks that taste like crap going down but makes everything that touches my tongue after that taste like sweet fruit drizzled in honey. There is no telling what that crazy man will do next with his magical mushrooms.

    Of course, his drinks serve their primary purpose, which is getting people drunk.

    His ¡°bribes¡± are interesting. The barrel Kierra carried in on her left shoulder was filled with shroom juice, something different from the usual Herbanacle. I don¡¯t recall the nonsensical name the half-elf came up with for it but it tastes like smoke and spice.

    Drinking it sets me on fire, figuratively, and makes my skin prickle pleasantly. For Alana, someone with a significantly less resilient constitution, it makes her fingers twitch and her feet shake. It fills her with an undeniable urge to move. She usually channels that energy into spontaneous exercise. It always cracks me up when our quiet drinking in the bar is interrupted by Alana dropping to the door and busting out a couple dozen push-ups. A good choice. I¡¯m hoping it¡¯ll get people dancing. Be a shame not to take advantage of the house full of musicians I didn¡¯t know I had.

    I also don¡¯t know the name of whatever¡¯s in the second barrel, but it does funky things with perception. Whether it¡¯s a good thing or a bad thing depends on the person. It makes someone more attentive to what¡¯s in front of them. Makes it easier to be in the moment, appreciate the finer details.

    However, the enhanced perception comes at the cost of a narrowed perspective. The drinker may focus on what¡¯s in front of them more intently but it¡¯s all they can focus on, quickly losing sight of their surroundings. Someone could be shouting their name into their ear and they wouldn¡¯t notice a thing but they¡¯d notice how many hairs were out of place on the person they were having a conversation with. Should be interesting.

    The crate containing sixteen bottles all arranged in neat rows contain wine, Howie¡¯s latest experiments with Kierra¡¯s home-grown fruits. He assures me they have no strange side-effects, but I try them anyway. Not that I¡¯m the best person for such a duty. My only critique for a poison that could kill a man three times over is how bitter it is. Still, it makes me feel like a responsible hostess. And I appreciated the excuse to start the festivities early.

    After eighteen cups, Howie¡¯s skills have managed to overcome my prime form. My body is warm, my skin is tingling, my nose is filled with the scents of lemon and pine, things keeps wiggling in the corners of my vision, the taste of sweet fruits lingers on my tongue, I swear I can feel my ears wiggling, and my attention is wholly focused on Alana who I¡¯ve dragged into my good mood, twirling her around the welcoming room while Earl demonstrates his skills on a violin.

    To my delight, Alana is fully embracing the celebratory mood, going as far as to dress up. There were plenty of options available, as Geneva apparently robbed half of Quest while following my orders to track down one of Howie¡¯s kidnappers. Despite that, Alana¡¯s style remains plain.

    A pale blue dress with a white bow on the neckline and white frills on the end of its less than modest skirt. Her fluffy blonde hair, longer than it¡¯s ever been, is pinned behind her head by a silver clip, a few strands curled using the strange methods Talia has been learning in her pursuit of fashion and left to frame her face.

    Around her neck, she wears a round medallion that hangs from a silver chain. On its face is a wolf head embossed on a tower shield. The crest of the James family and a symbol of her authority as a noble. She rarely wears it but tonight is all about flaunting what we have.

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    She¡¯s adorable. Normally, Alana¡¯s sweet side is buried under hard work, staunch principles, and steel. It takes the promise of safety and privacy to lure her out of her spikey shell. But tonight, my sweet girl is right beneath the surface. There isn¡¯t a hint of Victory¡¯s endless war or martial madness to be found in her shyly averted eyes or her faintly painted lips pressed into a cute frown as she struggles to keep to the tempo. Saints, but she¡¯s a terrible dancer.

    Not that I mind. I¡¯m having plenty of fun turning her in messy, uncoordinated circles, mostly to our own rhythm.

    A tugging on my pants leg snaps me out of my cheery mood. The world beyond my future saint comes back into focus and I bring us to a halt. A glance down reveals the intrusion to be Bell. She¡¯s also dressed up for the night, an adorable gold ribbon tied around her neck in a neat bow. Four big red eyes stare up at me as she smiles, trilling out ¡°Coo!¡± [Master Lou, the first wave of guests has arrived.]

    I chuckle. ¡°Finally got tired of standing by the side of the road?¡±

    [Alyssa Filagree arrived and urged them to come forward. The others were reassured by her presence or they accurately read her likely intentions to incinerate their carriages if they dawdled any longer.]

    Sounds like Alyssa. ¡°Nomad is on greeting duty?¡± My ever-depressed servant is very much not in a party mood. I don¡¯t think he can be anything other than gloomy. More than that, he doesn¡¯t like excessively loud or bright things. It¡¯s why he volunteered to be the night warden, spending night after night alone, wandering between the empty rooms of the estate as he waits for his mistresses to call upon him.

    However, I don¡¯t want to leave him out of the festivities entirely. The best compromise I could come up with was making him the greeter. His job is make sure no one gets in without an invitation or accompanying someone invited, pull carriages around the side, and deliver a short warning that I¡¯m sure no one will listen to.

    ¡°Coo!¡± [He has taken to the duty with his usual lack of enthusiasm.]

    ¡°Good, good.¡± Everything is in place. Just like Rolly¡¯s summoning, the three decorative tables arranged between the couches are divided by appetizers, desserts, and drinks. Small tidbits to give everyone a taste of Geneva¡¯s cooking but they can order more from the kitchen.

    A small stone platform with several chairs has been set up on the opposite side of the room is prepared for performances, of which Earl is the sole occupant. Tables have been set up in the garden, for those who want to take in its beauty while dining or to simply to a walk from Gajin¡¯s guided tours. The schedule isn¡¯t concrete, but we have two main events planned, one being a guided discussion tour of the gardens and the other being a show put on by Rolly. Should be enough to guarantee that everyone has a fun time.

    Alana separates from me as the group steps into the house. Haha, what a fun mix. In the lead is Miss Alyssa. I recognize the woman right behind her as Cynthia Oriole, another instructor. Of alchemy, I believe. Our acquaintance was brief but pleasant. She joined me, Kierra, Alana, Maxine, and Cloud for a night out in the city.

    A thoroughly pleasant woman to be around, despite her interest in making money off Kierra¡¯s garden, plundering the unique plants for their alchemical worth. I don¡¯t recognize the young man escorting her, but he looks at least a decade younger than her. Good for Cynthia, I suppose. Or maybe good for him.

    From a few casual comments, I believe the alchemist is well into her forties but, thanks to her creams and lotions, she doesn¡¯t look a day over thirty. I speak from experience when I say a little experience is a good thing.

    There are two more vaguely familiar faces in the group. I¡¯m sure the tall man with the muscular arms and broad shoulders was with Miss Alyssa and Aurelius when they escorted Kierra and I to Dunwayne¡¯s office. And the young man hovering near Alyssa¡¯s side is one of the idiots that stormed into our house after Kierra¡¯s foreplay led to the destruction of our garden. Lark? No, no. Luke. Lake? Lorax? Leonidas? Oh, forget it. I don¡¯t remember. The rest of the ensemble is a mystery.

    So are most of the ones behind them, led by Arthur wearing a leather vest over a black shirt and black pants. The others are wearing a lot of black and brown as well. And leather. A whole lot of leather. Never seen it used so much as a fashion choice.

    The last three I recognize easily. William, wearing a saints damned suit of all things and the brothers, Michael and Gabriel. The younger boy looks nervous as he enters but he is quickly captivated by the house, looking around with wide eyes. Gabriel¡¯s attention is more focused on the food tables. The brothers definitely have the least amount of presence, wearing faded shirts and worn pants. They¡¯re so out of their depth, just looking at them makes me smile.

    ¡°Welcome to my home, everyone.¡± I greet them with a jubilant voice and open arms. ¡°Don¡¯t be shy. Try the food, grab a drink, and take a seat. I want everyone to enjoy themselves.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-28

    Once everyone¡¯s settled and being attended to by Geneva, I hang back and examine my options. So many fun directions this can go. ¡°What do you think?¡± I whisper as I lean toward Alana, who is beside me.

    ¡°Brothers first,¡± she whispers back. ¡°They¡¯re distracted by the food now but they¡¯re still shaking in their boots. Then I¡¯d say Arthur, but I bet you have different ideas.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Coming?¡± I hold out an arm. Alana sighs but she places her hand on my arm and allows me to ¡®escort¡¯ her across the room. The younger brother, Michael, is seated in the corner seat of one of the couches, nibbling on a cookie, while his older brother leans on the couch¡¯s arm, sipping from a small glass.

    Oh, that¡¯s the One Time, our working title for the perception altering shroom juice. His head is bowed, gaze fixed to the floor. I bet the polished wood is the most interesting thing in the world right now.

    ¡°Michael,¡± I call as I take a seat beside him, guiding Alana to sit next to me.

    He had already stopped nibbling on his snack, but he jumps once I sit beside him. ¡°Lou, ah, Lady Tome. I¡­¡± He trails off, swallowing heavily before turning his away. I let him stew in whatever puddle of negative emotions he¡¯s stewing in, enjoying his floundering. I don¡¯t care for men at all, but my eyes aren¡¯t as biased and I have to admit, the blushing boy is kind of cute. Going to be popular when he grows up, I bet. He¡¯s nowhere close to the saintly Lancecain, or me if I want to indulge in vanity for a moment, but I don¡¯t see women laughing off his advances.

    Unfortunately, I wouldn¡¯t say the same for Gabriel. They have the same dark hair and eyes, but that is where the similarities end. He isn¡¯t particularly bad looking but his features don¡¯t complement each other. His stoic demeanor doesn¡¯t help. He is a block of stone that only comes alive when his brother is concerned.

    ¡°No hard feelings over the qualifiers,¡± Gabriel said, getting right to the heart of Michael¡¯s tension. ¡°We¡¯d made plans to team up earlier in the year. Wouldn¡¯t have been right to abandon him just because a better option appeared.¡±

    Oh, this one has talent. Apologized and complimented both of us in one succinct sentence. He has a tongue suited for court. That¡¯ll be needed if his brother wants to be anything more than a noble¡¯s pet caster. ¡°No hard feelings, as you say. It was probably for the best. My team ran into quite a lot of trouble.¡±

    Michael winces, likely recalling that someone with royal blood was murdered and my team was caught in the middle. The poor boy has worse anxiety when it comes to people in positions of authority than the old me. He likely would have fainted over Seabass¡¯ corpse. ¡°It¡¯s amazing that you beat Dunwayne¡¯s record,¡± Michael offers hesitantly.

    ¡°I got lucky. Found a den.¡±

    ¡°How did you flush them out? We couldn¡¯t manage it.¡±

    I climbed in after them. ¡°Trade secrets. So? What¡¯s next for you two? The path of an acolyte is long and wide.¡±

    ¡°Michael will focus on developing his water affinity and select a trade. I will learn alchemy and join a guild to help support his education.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Going to be a hunter?¡±

    ¡°No. I want to work behind a desk. There is no need to risk my life hunting monsters.¡±

    I notice Michael nodding from the corner of my eye. Neither are men that hunger for blood or glory, it seems. Refreshing¡­if boring. It sounds to me that both brothers are looking for a simple life where they earn enough crowns feed their families and nothing more. Where is the passion? The lust for life? Or any lust at all?

    I understand. Taking chances on what you want is a lot more daunting when you¡¯re not immortal and strong enough to bend steel but, having lived both lives, I know how bleak living only to preserve your life can be.

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll have to study hard, Michael. And stay away from the drinks table.¡± One cup will turn the boy inside out.

    ¡°Ah, of course.¡±

    I stand up but Alana stays behind, engaging them in a conversation. I briefly consider going to Arthur and his friends, but they seem wholly preoccupied with shoveling food into their mouths as fast as possible. That leaves Alyssa¡¯s group, crowded around the drinks table and chatting amicably. Cynthia notices me immediately, turning away from the young man she walked in with to flash a full smile at me.

    ¡°The lady of the house herself,¡± the alchemist greets, drawing attention to my approach.

    ¡°Lady Oriole. Don¡¯t let my wife hear you.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Would she take offense?¡±

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    ¡°Not at all. She¡¯d think it amusing and would tease me relentlessly.¡±

    Once I¡¯m close enough, the older woman brazenly links our arms together. Her date doesn¡¯t look at all happy about the gesture. ¡°Do you have any plans to clear up your legal troubles? I was hoping you¡¯d be joining my class this year.¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°Even if I weren¡¯t a wanted woman, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have the time. I¡¯m a summoner by trade. Proper dedication to the art is time consuming. What free time I do have is taken up by my family.¡±

    ¡°And what a large family you have,¡± she purrs. ¡°Growing larger by the day.¡± She moves even closer, squeezing my arm against her chest. My eyes reflexively look down, noticing just how little the laces of the dress hide. ¡°You know, my company also sells nutrition potions, as beauty starts from within. Can I interest you in some? It must be tiring to¡­take care of so many women.¡±

    I smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m more than up to the task.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. Kierra brags about this body of yours sometimes. Says it¡¯s a work of art.¡±

    ¡°If you want, I can give you a better look.¡±

    ¡°Art should be admired.¡±

    ¡°Oh, saints¡¯ blessed asses,¡± Alyssa groans. ¡°Will you stop eye-fucking this brat? Your date is right there. I feel bad for the fucker.¡±

    I look at said date. Ah, he doesn¡¯t look happy at all. Poor bastard. I barely hold back a wince as Cynthia looks over briefly before turning away. He doesn¡¯t take that lying down.

    He downs his glass and squares his shoulders. ¡°No need to worry for me, Miss Filagree. Thia is fond of her distractions. I¡¯m also interested in Lady Tome. Few are brave enough to throw a party on the eve of being arrested and likely executed.¡±

    Executed, huh? If only this joker knew how funny he is. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    He flinches. ¡°Farran. No last name. My family hasn¡¯t done anything notable enough to receive the recognition. I hope to change that.¡±

    ¡°Well, Farran. I don¡¯t consider myself a brave person. I¡¯m throwing a party because I¡¯m not going to be executed. And that¡¯s the last I¡¯m going to say on the subject. Topics of law, arrest, and execution are banned. Today is a happy night. A night full of laughter and fun¡­¡± I turn back to Cynthia, channeling Kierra¡¯s smirk. ¡°And maybe something else.¡±

    The alchemist smiles back but the moment is interrupted by Farran speaking with audible venom. ¡°Yes, it wouldn¡¯t do to pour a dose of reality into these drinks. I¡¯m sure ignoring your problems will make everything better.¡±

    A soft coo makes him look down to find Bell waiting beside him, holding up an empty platter. Farran puts his empty glass atop it and the imp scampers off, leaving him free to take another from the table. ¡°I suppose you expect your wife to solve your problems again. How much of her kingdom is she willing to donate for your freedom? Oh, wait. She isn¡¯t a princess, is she? Suppose there¡¯s nothing to save you then.¡±

    You¡¯re going to need saving in a moment. I wiggle my arm, cluing Cynthia in that I want to be released. She does so with reluctance and a pronounced pout, only to gasp in happy surprise as I put an arm around her waist and pull her against me. ¡°Why did you invite this bore?¡± I ask, ignoring Farran. ¡°Can¡¯t read a room for his life.¡± Seriously, he¡¯s endangering his life.

    ¡°He was there when I received the invitation. I didn¡¯t think he would leave his manners at my home.¡±

    ¡°Your home? Lady Oriole, you wouldn¡¯t be seducing your students?¡±

    She titters. ¡°As exciting as that sounds, no. He¡¯s an ex-student, so no hint of impropriety here.¡±

    ¡°Shame. I might have rethought taking your classes.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re done emasculating Cynthia¡¯s date,¡± Alyssa grouses. ¡°Come over here, Lou. I want to introduce you to someone.¡±

    I smile at the quietly seething Farran before obliging Alyssa¡¯s request, pulling her along as I move to stand before the redhead. She motions to the older man beside her. Definitely the scruffiest looking person in attendance. The brothers may not have much but they put what effort they could into their appearance. This guy looks like he dragged himself here after a long day without bothering to even wipe his face.

    At least he¡¯s wearing a small smile as he downs the shroom juice, only turning to us after Alyssa punches him in the shoulder.

    ¡°This is Jack. Works in One For All.¡±

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Hi?¡±

    ¡°He has a voice with the hunters. You show him why fighting you is a shit idea and most people won¡¯t want to fight you.¡±

    Jack grunts. ¡°Big promises. All I can do is tell people what I know. Whether they listen is up to them.¡±

    Well. ¡°We can arrange something. But for starters, you know how strong these drinks are?¡±

    The hunter¡¯s smile widens. ¡°Strong enough to make me go bald.¡±

    That¡¯s a new one. I kind of want Howie to make a drink with that side effect. ¡°After our last, ah, kerfluffel with the guilds¡ª" I ignore Alyssa¡¯s amused snort. ¡°I imagine you all are not looking forward to a direct confrontation. Indirect methods won¡¯t work either. Especially poison. I could drink a whole house of this stuff and wouldn¡¯t even feel it in the morning.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Prove it.¡±

    ¡°I would but leaving my guests dry wouldn¡¯t be good as tonight¡¯s hostess.¡±

    ¡°A convenient excuse,¡± Farran said, showing he¡¯s not smart enough to leave well enough alone. ¡°I guess the infamous initiate doesn¡¯t live up to her reputation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m more than capable of living up to my reputation. But drinking isn¡¯t what I¡¯m known for.¡± The hand around Cynthia¡¯s waist moves, my thumb rubbing her abdomen. The alchemist is unperturbed, grabbing a glass of wine from the table. Can¡¯t say the same for her date. He looks ready to explode.

    Poor bastard. I¡¯ve been there. Kierra never flirted with anyone as brazenly as Cynthia is flirting with me, but I know what it feels like to burn inside as others do their best to steal the attentions of the woman you love. Or, in Farran¡¯s case, are interested in. At least with Kierra, I knew she was doing it with purpose and that she wouldn¡¯t actually sleep with her admirers. This schmuck has no such guarantee.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind giving a demonstration of that but there are young eyes present. I do have some decorum.¡±

    ¡°Thank the saints for that,¡± Alyssa mutters.

    ¡°The night is still young.¡± Cynthia sips her drink with raised brows, eyes practically twinkling. This woman. I¡¯m not sure how much of her words are banter and how much is a genuine invitation. And if it is real, is it an invitation I can accept? Assuming my wives, current and future, has nothing to say about it.

    A glance over my shoulder reveals that Alana is still talking with the brothers. As if she can feel my gaze, she turns. Our eyes meet. Then her gaze moves to Cynthia. I watch her face intently, awaiting her judgment. After a long moment, she turns away. Not a yes¡­but also not a no.

    It¡¯s going to be an interesting night.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-29

    ¡°Where did you get this shirt? You must introduce me to your tailor. It¡¯s classy yet¡­provocative.¡± Several minutes and several more drinks later and the situation has deteriorated. Well, it depends on who you ask. I think things are going good. People are talking, eating, drinking, laughing, and genuinely having a good time. Most of them. There are two guests who don¡¯t seem to be enjoying themselves as much as the others.

    The first is Michael. The poor boy is out of his depth. From the looks of things, Gabriel overestimated his tolerance and is the first to fall prey to the shroom juice, his head lolling to the side as he holds his glass in loose fingers. Lucky for him I saw this coming. Geneva mixed together something to perk up the guests that start to slow down while the night is still young.

    The second person who doesn¡¯t seem to be enjoying themselves is Farran. A little more conversation has clarified the relationship between the two of them. Specifically, that there is no relationship.

    Cynthia is not a conventional woman by any means. She has multiple partners that she uses and refuses on a whim. Her whims seem to be leaning toward me tonight. The longer her flirting goes unchallenged, the more bold she becomes. And the bolder she becomes, the more upset her date becomes.

    With the drink dulling his reason and Cynthia getting dangerously close to fondling me as she runs her hands over my shirt, I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s only a matter of time before things escalate.

    ¡°Kierra designs my wardrobe. A hobby of hers.¡±

    ¡°Mm. That explains the fit. She must know your measurements very well.¡±

    The alchemist¡¯s hand finally breaches propriety, circling around to my back before dropping to my ass and, unlike her previous touches, it lingers. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I mutter, chuckling as the fingers squeeze. ¡°I¡¯m not your date.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m married.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to have a problem with it so why should I?¡±

    ¡°My wife may have a problem with you.¡± Our little interactions are fun and all but it¡¯s best to be clear about things before it¡¯s too late. Kierra and Talia will be joining the party any moment. I¡¯d hate for the alchemist to lose her hand for being too friendly.

    ¡°Ah. So, I should be seducing two women instead of one. Or is that three? Four? Talia doesn¡¯t seem like the possessive type but then again, if you had asked me before she met you, I would have said she wasn¡¯t the type for anything.¡±

    Huh. ¡°Why?¡±

    The hand on my ass moves up, grabbing my shoulder for balance as she stands on the tips of her toes to whisper in my ear. ¡°I want to know what¡¯s brought so many powerful women to your bed. Do you want to show me Lou?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking believe this,¡± Farran mutters over his glass.

    Before I can respond to either one of those statements, footsteps prompt me to look over my shoulder. I smile as my wife and mistress descend, drawing another pair of eyes with each step.

    While Talia has a growing interest in fashion, it¡¯s a rare thing for Kierra to dress up. Though she hasn¡¯t really dressed up. Her long brown skirt and loose white blouse is very casual but different from what she usually wears. Her long silver hair is braided and a delicate silver chain hangs around her throat.

    She¡¯s always beautiful but she looks softer tonight. More approachable, which I think is the intent behind her choices. Talia is the perfect complement, dressed in a white robe with silver flowers along the arms. Her long, black hair is pinned in a tail by a silver butterfly ornament, as precious as she is.

    ¡°Good evening, everyone,¡± Kierra announces as she comes off the last step. ¡°I welcome you to my home. So, please stop insulting me with your¡ª" Her lips turn up in a smirk. ¡°¡ªreticence. It is far too quiet for this to be a party hosted by an Atainna.¡±

    ¡°Here, here!¡± I call, separating myself from Cynthia. I pick up two glasses of wine and carry them over. ¡°We were just waiting for you.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°How sweet.¡± Kierra takes the glasses, offering one to Talia. The gardener watering her flower. ¡°Then let us not waste any more time.¡± My wife leans forward and slowly breathes in. ¡°I smell a bitch in heat on you, my love.¡±

    How far we¡¯ve come. After we were first married, such a comment would leave me stiff as a board, eyes frantically scanning her expression for disapproval. Later, approval. Now, I just smile, comfortable with who, and what, we are. ¡°Does she smell good?¡±

    Kierra chuckles. ¡°Nowhere near as delicious as you, but tonight is a night of indulgence.¡± Her finger lifts my chin before tapping my lips. ¡°A treat for you, Lou. Tonight, for only tonight, the answer is yes.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± My eyes widen at the implication. ¡°Yes to anyone? To everyone?¡±

    Her answer is to take a drink from her wine and stride across the room to the small stage. ¡°Flower.¡±

    Talia answers her call immediately. Kierra holds out her hand and our mistress takes it, allowing herself to be helped onto the small stage we¡¯ve set up. Earl, who is currently taking a break, bows his head and prepares himself to play again. While the three of them talk about the impending performance, I make my way back to the drinks table. ¡°You¡¯re all in for a treat. Our flower has the voice of a saint. Or what a saint should sound like.¡±

    ¡°Talia sings?¡± Alyssa asks, looking up from her conversation with her hunter friend, at the same time Cynthia asks, ¡°Flower?¡±

    ¡°She does. And yes, flower.¡±

    The alchemist chuckles. ¡°To think the day would come when I heard Umphrieltalia given a pet name. I¡¯m already glad I came.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen nothing yet.¡±

    The three of them finish their discussion by the stage. Kierra steps back as Earl begins to play. There are a few catcalls from Arthur¡¯s group that the pirate-son quickly silences. Talia hums a few notes, drawing the gazes of anyone not already paying attention. Then she starts to sing.

    I recognize the lyrics. It¡¯s common enough in taverns all over the kingdom and a favorite of bards. A story about a young boy, as is usual for these tales, that sets off from his home of common origins to pursue wealth and fame. While heading for the capital, he comes across a fair maiden. A young noblewoman, waiting by the road as her servants repair a broken wheel on her carriage. The boy is immediately smitten but the lady wants nothing to do with him.

    From that moment on, the lady becomes the boy¡¯s motivation. He slays fearsome monsters, defeats powerful warriors, and becomes a man of great renown. And after each amazing feat, he asks for the lady¡¯s hand in marriage, but she always refuses. No matter how much prestige he wraps around himself, all the lady can see is the dirty village boy stumbling down the King¡¯s Road.

    I sigh as Talia¡¯s haunting voice brings the story to life like no one has ever before, my heart softly aching with the emotion she invokes. When she finishes, the room erupts in enthusiastic applause. Talia bows before taking Kierra¡¯s hand and stepping off the stage. Earl continues to play, an upbeat song that¡¯s a perfect background to the suddenly excited atmosphere.

    ¡°I always liked that song.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t imagine you a fan of tragic love,¡± Cynthia says.

    ¡°It¡¯s tragic but it¡¯s beautiful. The hero remains devoted to his first love, even after he¡¯s strong enough and wealthy enough to have any woman he wants.¡± Loyalty is a beautiful thing. Perhaps even more than beauty itself. After all, it was Alana¡¯s steadfast loyalty that made me fall in love with her.

    ¡°Is that what you think that song is about?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± I ask, hearing the teasing in her tone.

    Cynthia chuckles. ¡°I don¡¯t hear a song about loyalty. Why did the young hero leave his home? He wanted fame and fortune, but why? Humans do not need either of those things to be healthy and fulfilled. They want them. But how can they want something they¡¯ve never experienced? They cannot. They can only detest what they already have. Our young hero was no starry-eyed youth eager to pursue a grand future. He was a bitter, jealous son of a farmer or some such who was unsatisfied with who he was and his lot in life.

    ¡°This bitter young man aspires for the life of a hero not to be a hero but to be anything but what he is. On the road, he meets the lady. Is it love that draws him to her? Or is it infatuation? Obsession? She embodies everything he wishes he was. In the kingdom, marriage is how two families are unified. To obtain her favor is to cast away his common past for good.

    ¡°That, Lou, is why he cannot give up on his so-called love. Because as long as he cannot convince her he is someone great, he cannot believe he is someone great. It is a tragic love story, but not of romantic love, but self-love. Who can love us if we do not love ourselves?¡±

    Something in the alchemist¡¯s soft smile hints at her many years of experience as she directs it at me. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how powerful a dragon is if it believes itself to be nothing more than a flying lizard. The reason why the lady never accepts the boy, no matter what he accomplishes, is because she finds his lack of self-confidence and ambition thoroughly unattractive. So unattractive the gold he drapes himself in, the beasts he slays, and the honors he obtains don¡¯t mean a damn thing. Confidence, Lou. In self. In purpose. It goes a long way.¡±

    ¡°¡­certainly a different message.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and there¡¯s one more. Pretending to be something you¡¯re not only leads to tragedy.¡±

    ¡°Are you trying to tell me something?¡±

    ¡°Only that the opposite also applies. Embracing who you are is the key to happiness.¡± Her smile turns mischievous.

    Explicit agreement from Kierra. Nonchalance from Alana but I know she likes to watch. Mm. Tonight is a night to leave worries behind and indulge. To live without fear of tomorrow.

    ¡°Cynthia. I hope you don¡¯t mind me being informal.¡±

    She catches onto the change in my demeanor immediately. ¡°You can be as informal as you like, darling.¡±

    ¡°It should be a while before Talia¡¯s next song. Care to take a walk in the garden?¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-30 (Alana)

    Alana discretely looked around the room, taking in the smiling people and quiet conversation. When Lou said she wanted to throw a party, Alana imagined¡­well, something very different from the current sedate gathering. Nothing as crass as a house-wide orgy, though if she were being honest that option hadn¡¯t been off the table, but certainly something more than polite, or not so polite, conversation over drinks.

    Nevertheless, a good mood hung over the small crowd. Which was the point. Lou hadn¡¯t organized the event for lecherous reasons but to have the happy homecoming she¡¯d been craving. One denied by the maneuverings of the lord of Quest, the guilds, and the crown.

    Alana¡¯s emotions about the situation were divided. One the one hand, she understood why Lou was a wanted woman. She had taken the law into her own hands when the guilds snatched Howie and her actions had resulted in the deaths of two dozen people, not to mention countless injuries.

    It was a senseless slaughter, something Alana was very much against. Murderers deserved to be punished. Normally, if she heard a noblewoman had rampaged through the city, killing people and causing who knew how much in damages, there would be no question about who the villain was. But she had plenty of questions.

    While someone looking at the situation at a distance could easily paint Lou as a madwoman and a destructive element, being up close revealed a very different picture. Her violence had been prompted by another crime, her actions done to prevent a terrible fate from befalling her friend. She had killed people but only after she gave them the option of peace.

    Going straight to fighting without alerting the guards had been a questionable decision, letting Geneva run wild through the city without supervision was a mistake, and using an untested spell was complete idiocy, but Lou¡¯s heart was in the right place. Despite everything that had happened in the year they¡¯d met, Lou¡¯s heart had never been in the wrong place. She was petty, childishly so at times, but she was never malicious. Whatever she¡¯d done to anyone, they¡¯d deserved it.

    Perhaps except for Robert. As Lou liked to call him, Mr. Talented. She supposed that killing the boy¡¯s pet wasn¡¯t that bad considering he had tried to kill her, but Alana considered it too far of an escalation given that Lou was in no real danger. She agreed that Lou was justified in not intervening when the supposed assassin attacked but throwing Robert¡¯s failure and the death of his friend in his face had been incredibly petty, verging on cruel. But not unprovoked.

    The same applied to the business with the hunters. By both the ancestors and the saints, Lou had actively tried to help the hunters, but they had followed the words of an idiot anyway.

    There was less leeway when it came to Lou defying the king¡¯s law by keeping succubi but was it fair for her to be punished when the law could be seen, no, was undoubtedly an attack on all summoners, Lou included?

    It was the Tome family¡¯s legacy. Their entire way of life. It was like banning the James from hunting manabeasts beyond the peaks. Or banning the formation of private knight orders. If the crown dared, there would be war. It was only because the summoners were a marginal group with no support from the nobles, thanks to the actions of the Grimoires, that the king was so blatant in targeting them.

    What was Lou supposed to do? Take the royal shafting with a smile? Become the crown¡¯s puppet, doing something she completely despised? Or let herself be chased out of her home? Alana wouldn¡¯t take either of those options and would pull her sword on anyone who wanted to force them on her.

    Not that she expected most people, specifically the people of Quest, to agree with her. Alana had been raised by a group of violent lunatics. Worse, her opinions were completely biased when it came to Lou.

    It would take something drastic for Alana to turn against her. So drastic, the James daughter couldn¡¯t imagine it. She was already so gone that she could find Lou standing over a room full of bodies and her first reaction would be to wait for the explanation. So far gone that she was more than ready to go against the whole kingdom. Not because she was sure it was the right thing to do but because said kingdom¡­had made Lou sad.

    Something she would never say out loud. She was getting better about being open with her feelings but there was only so much embarrassment she could take before exploding. Her actions would do the talking.

    The March was the first time Alana saw anything but thoughtless joy, rampant concern, or somehow endearing anxiety from her wife-to-be. She never wanted to see such an expression again. After Lou had stormed out of her bedroom, she promised herself that she would never make Lou cry again. And that she would cut down anything else that dared.

    In her mind, that threat was aimed at some shameless woman that would try to take advantage of Lou¡¯s relentless generosity but if the first target of her determination was a king, then so be it.

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    It would make a good warm-up for dragon-slaying.

    A loud clap drew her attention. Lou stood in the center of the room, smiling brightly. Alana felt a slight heat come to her face as she took in her lover¡¯s handsome features. It really was unfair. Lou was never an unattractive woman, despite not being a delicate beauty like Yulianna, but after redesigning her body, she was eye-catchingly, heart-stoppingly beautiful. The kind of woman that ruined marriages by walking down the street. And it wasn¡¯t just because of her exotic violet eyes or perfect teeth. It was her confidence.

    Alana always found her the most charming when Lou was unapologetically herself, reveling in being called a pervert. Her transformation had given Lou confidence. Now, she was always herself, for better or for worse. Alana didn¡¯t know what kind of strange tastes she had but she found the woman cocky enough to strut around naked in the middle of the Sanctuary, during the tests that would determine the rest of her future at the Hall no less, dazzling.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure everyone has noticed the incredible garden on the property. Normally, entering it is a death sentence, both because we don¡¯t like creepers and there are plants between those trees that can swallow you whole. Specially you, Mikey.¡± She winked at the youngest attendee. Alana was sure it was meant as a joke, but the young man shivered, clearly more unnerved than amused.

    ¡°However, today is a special day. For one night only, you are all allowed to see wonders from the elven continent up close. We even promise you won¡¯t die doing it! While Talia prepares for her performance, we¡¯ll be conducting tours. If you¡¯re interested, go around back.¡±

    As the room discussed the appeal of looking at a bunch of plants, Alana¡¯s gaze stayed on Lou. She watched as her lover bowed her head and whispered something to the alchemist. Violet eyes looked up and met Alana¡¯s stare. Lou never looked away as Cynthia patted her chest before leaving the room.

    Alana swallowed as Lou walked over, standing before her. Seated, her gaze was almost level with Lou¡¯s crotch and she couldn¡¯t stop herself from thinking about what was inside those pants. She had to restrain herself from leaning forward and rubbing nose against the fabric. Her common sense and sense of decorum were gradually being worn down, but she had enough of both to not act like such a wanton woman amidst company.

    Lou smiled down at her, long enough to give the impression she knew exactly what was on Alana¡¯s mind, before turning her attention to Gabriel. She casually hauled the older brother to his feet and motioned for Michael to stand. ¡°Why don¡¯t you help him outside? One of my servants will meet you out there with something to perk your brother up.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­I, uh¡ª"

    ¡°You sound scared. You don¡¯t need to be. Everything¡¯s going to be just fine.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright.¡± Michael ducked under his brother, throwing one of Gabriel¡¯s arms over his shoulders and helping him across the room. Once they were gone, Lou turned back to Alana. There was plenty of room to sit down but she remained standing. Another clue that she had to know what their positions were doing to Alana.

    It was funny. Lou was terrible at keeping her thoughts off her face, but she was also incredibly insightful about others, in certain respects.

    ¡°Kierra gave me a gift tonight.¡±

    Alana shivered hearing that tone full of promises. ¡°Yeah?¡± she asked, clearing her dry throat after.

    ¡°Mm.¡± Strong hands grabbed Alana by the shoulders and her brain stalled, thoughts halted by a vivid picture of a very different situation their positions could be applied to. ¡°She said yes.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± It took several moments for her to connect the words to the flirting alchemist. ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± One of the hands on her shoulders gravitated to her hair, gently massaging her scalp. ¡°But she¡¯s not the only person who needs to approve. How about it, sweetie? Do you mind if I have a little fun tonight?¡±

    Alana breathed in. She swore she could smell Lou¡¯s growing excitement.

    ¡°Would you like it better if I said you could watch?¡±

    This is my life now. And what a life it is. She jumped to her feet, whimpering slightly as her nose brushed against the front of Lou¡¯s pants. She looked up into the smoldering violet eyes looking down at her. ¡°What are you going to do?¡± she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe I should let you decide.¡± Lou¡¯s free hand went around Alana¡¯s waist as she laid her hand on the shorter girl¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You can ask me to take her upstairs and take a seat beside the bed. Should bring back memories. Unless we¡¯re still pretending you don¡¯t remember that night.¡±

    ¡°No idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Alana muttered.

    ¡°Uh-huh. Well, if you want to pretend, you don¡¯t have to be seen. You want to wait by the slightly cracked door, like a dirty little girl peeking in on mommy and daddy?¡±

    Saints, where does she get this stuff?

    ¡°Or maybe you¡¯ll hide in the bathroom. That close, you may as well be right next to me. I¡¯ll hear every groan and whimper. Every breath. Every command. You can be right there, telling me what you want. Whether you want me to take her fast or slow. From the front or the back. How about Alana? Would you rather watch my ass as I pound into a horny woman or her face as she loses her mind?¡±

    ¡°You do have a nice ass,¡± Alana grumbled. Then she flushed, not believing that she¡¯d uttered the words out loud, no matter how softly. But it wasn¡¯t enough to stop her. ¡°What if I said I wanted you to throw her up against a tree, pull up her dress, and take her from behind with your pants around your ankles like two sloppy teenagers?¡±

    ¡°And how would you know what that looks like?¡±

    ¡°The north doesn¡¯t have a lot of space, especially for younger soldiers.¡± Memories of her shameful habit played in Alana¡¯s mind. All the times she crouched or lied behind previously prepared snowbanks around frequent hook-up spots. Peeking over the edge while two trainees stole a few moments together.

    ¡°Such a bad girl.¡± Alana felt her knees shake as the hand in her hair tightened, not enough to hurt but enough to suggest¡­something. Then it let go and the hand around her waist retreated as Lou stepped back. She smiled. ¡°I love it. Come on. Let¡¯s get this tour started.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-31 (Alana)

    The appeal of seeing rare specimens from another continent trumped the general ambivalence for an event as mundane as garden viewing, the tour drawing a sizable number of the party¡¯s attendees. Alana was rather surprised by the holdouts. If asked, she would have said that the pirates and smugglers would have been the first to beg off, but they seemed excited for, as one of the girls graphically put it, petal fondling.

    She supposed Arthur was responsible. He seemed to be the focal point of the group, the others deferring to his decisions. They were a lot more respectful than she would have expected from young adults from Graywatch, something she put down to Arthur occasionally grabbing a shoulder or slapping someone on the back of the head.

    The pirate-son had really changed. She only had a faint idea what Geneva did to him and while it sounded horrific, she couldn¡¯t argue with the results. He was far more pleasant to be around, but the biggest change was his confidence. Not the disgusting arrogance he flaunted before his ¡°re-education¡± but the effortless charisma of someone who¡¯d been tested and came out of life¡¯s challenges stronger. He reminded Alana of some of the older knights, the ones who¡¯d seen double-digit campaigns. He was certainly grim enough.

    Her second guess would have been Alyssa and her maybe-date, the hunter she thought was named Jack. They¡¯d stuck close together by the drinks table, gulping down shroom juice like it was water and muttering to each other. Alana wasn¡¯t sure if they were together in that way. She didn¡¯t even know why she cared, as little as she cared. She never thought about things like this before but now she couldn¡¯t help being curious about who the redhead was interested in.

    Alyssa seemed to despise Lou and was immune to Kierra¡¯s savage charms. On the other side of the coin, even Alana, with her limited romantic experience, could tell that the man called Lane was interested in her, but the instructor brushed aside his not-so-subtle advances with the subconscious disregard that resembled someone swatting away a fly.

    The redhead despised Aurelius and didn¡¯t seem very interested in the broad-shouldered Brutus, though that could have been because the other instructor had a date. It was none of her business, but the grizzled hunter and Alyssa seemed to¡­fit the best of the available options. The two of them heading for the garden together only served to stoke her imagination.

    Three people rejected the offer for a tour. One was Farran. Cynthia¡¯s plus one but not her date, something the poor man didn¡¯t understand until he was repeatedly bludgeoned by the alchemist¡¯s overt flirtation with Lou. Anyone with eyes could see where that road was headed and the man didn¡¯t seem interested in witnessing it firsthand. Instead, he turned his attention to a worse target. If he continued making eyes at Umphrieltalia, something more than his ego was going to be bruised. Likely by the second person who didn¡¯t seem interested in walking the gardens.

    The estate¡¯s mistress showed no interest in taking the guests through her domain. Instead, she leaned against a wall beside one of her skulls, quietly sipping from a cup while she watched Farran.

    It was like watching a rabbit cluelessly hop past a predator lying in wait. She didn¡¯t know what was motivating Farran, attraction or mere pettiness, but it wasn¡¯t going to end well. Kierra was waiting for him to make a mistake. Alana hoped he lasted until later so she could see what the elf did to him. It was bound to be memorable.

    The last person to show little interest in the offer of a garden tour was Talia herself. She endured Farran¡¯s flirtations with her usual blank look, slightly swaying on the stage as she hummed to herself. Preparing for her performance. The song earlier was just a teaser to draw interest from the crowd. Later, Rolly and the servants planned to join her, delivering a spectacle worthy of the capital, as Lou put it.

    Despite the holdouts, it was a sizable group that made their way to the back of the house. Alana smiled at the excited murmurs and gasps of surprise as they entered the garden. She had no hand in its construction or maintenance but what was Kierra¡¯s was Lou¡¯s was hers, so she felt comfortable taking pride in it. A well-maintained garden was always a spectacle but the colorful lighting and imposing black arches with glowing red gems along them made it something fantastical.

    ¡°Good evening, everyone.¡± The group¡¯s attention turned to Gajin as he theatrically stepped from behind the base of one of the arches. The mopey gardener had cleaned up, though he still looked like a madman out of a children¡¯s story dressed in a long brown coat with plants growing out of the pockets. He bowed at the waist.

    ¡°I am Gajin, the gardener of Mistress Atainna. It is my pleasure to share my work with you all this evening but please be warned that the mistress¡¯ domain is not hospitable. Do not touch anything without permission. I say this both for your safety and that of the plants. Please gather around.¡±

    As the group gathered around the gardener, Alana noticed Lou discretely leading Cynthia away. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was taking notice of her, Alana trailed after them.

    The garden was a very different place depending on where one was within it. The back of the estate was Kierra¡¯s personal domain, dictated by the perimeter of trees around half the property. It was a slice of the wild, as Kierra preferred her garden to be. Dangerous and intriguing plants grew in the shade of green giants with minimum supervision and no order, at least none that anyone but Kierra could discern.

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    The front of the estate was still had touches of the elf but was maintained solely by Gajin, arranged in a more traditional manner. Flowers planted in picturesque ways and divided by hedges, some flowering, all neatly trimmed. They were as tall as Alana shoulders. Tall enough to swallow the pair as Lou led the alchemist through the garden, their arms intertwined.

    Mid-conversation, Lou suddenly looked over her shoulder and their gazes met. Alana froze, the primal reflex overriding her rationale mind telling her that there was no need to be worried and her inability to reason her way through her emotions only enhancing her embarrassment. Lou smiled before turning away. Leaving Alana to her¡­interests.

    Alana wrestled with the delicious feeling of impropriety making the fingers of her right hand twitch but didn¡¯t stop tailing them. The alchemist wasn¡¯t nearly as observant and remained oblivious to the snooping presence as Alana quietly moved behind them.

    ¡°Be honest with me, Lou,¡± Cynthia said as they stopped before a hedge intertwined with violets. ¡°What will you do about your tension with the local authorities? I don¡¯t see you surrendering yourself to the lord¡¯s judgment.¡±

    ¡°Concerned?¡±

    ¡°A little. As much as the Grand Hall prides itself on being an independent entity, our future is very much intertwined with Quest¡¯s. Especially for those like myself with businesses in the city and beyond.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you should share these concerns with the guilds and the lord of the city.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I have. You would think the opinion of a learned alchemist, accomplished merchant, and longtime instructor at the Hall would have weight, but Quest is a city of hunters. The guilds only respect each other.¡±

    ¡°So you decided to try your charms on me.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Do you find me charming, Lou?¡±

    Alana fought an urge to roll her eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you need to ask. A woman of your means must have access to a mirror of sufficient clarity.¡±

    Cynthia chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive me a bit of insecurity, darling. A woman can¡¯t help comparing herself to a vision like Kierra and will often find herself lacking.¡±

    Lou hummed. ¡°That¡¯s not how I think of it. A garden isn¡¯t composed of a single kind of flower but a dozen varieties. Each enhances the presence of the others. Everyone has a favorite but even a rose gets tiresome when you stare at it alone for years.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you pulled me aside, Lou? Because you¡¯re tired of your elven rose?¡±

    Alana reflexively smiled as Lou chuckled. ¡°Tired? Never. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll still be trying to figure her out decades from now. This¡­is about enjoying everything the garden of life has to offer. Appreciating the other blooms that complement the rose.¡±

    The alchemist giggled, a sound both unbecoming for her age and completely adorable. The older woman continued to put out bait as the two of them wandered through the hedges. And Lou obliging played her game, flexing her wit as she heaped a mountain of compliments on her date.

    It was maddening, their little game.

    Oh, it was entertaining enough when she was the one playing but from the outside looking in, the thick tension was a hindrance. It was crass, but she wanted them to hurry along to their eventual destination. The only reason that she could endure was because she noted they were slowly, but surely, making their way to the treeline that divided the gardens. Lou hadn¡¯t forgotten their conversation from earlier. Or Alana¡¯s request.

    Her patience was rewarded when they eventually reached said trees.

    ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t cross? Not even for a little peek?¡± Cynthia asked in a pouting voice, tightly pressed against Lou¡¯s side.

    ¡°Nuh-uh. The things in there can barely be called plants. I swear, some of them will look back at you if you look at them too hard. Besides, we both know you don¡¯t want just a look.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re an alchemist, Thia. If I let you in there, there¡¯ll be a little something extra under your dress when you leave.¡±

    ¡°Lou, I¡¯m hurt you think so little of me.¡±

    ¡°The opposite. Kierra thinks ambition is good and I admire it as well. Which is why I¡¯m going to tell you a secret. You don¡¯t have to go wandering in dangerous places to find alchemical delights.¡±

    Alana perked up, recognizing her lover¡¯s tone. Lou was ready to bring the show to its finale.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re currently clinging to the most magical thing in this garden.¡± The older woman gasped as Lou turned, wrapping her arms around her and pressing their bodies together. ¡°I wasn¡¯t born with this fine form. Everything, down to my last strand of hair, has been altered to serve one purpose.¡±

    ¡°Fighting?¡±

    Alana scoffed, softly echoing Lou¡¯s own. ¡°No, though I can do that pretty well too. The answer is¡­¡±

    Alana couldn¡¯t hear what Lou whispered in the other woman¡¯s ear, not even when she moved closer. She did hear Cynthia¡¯s response. ¡°Those are bold claims.¡±

    ¡°More than claims. Though I wouldn¡¯t expect an academic like you to believe me without¡­verification.¡±

    ¡°Is that an offer?¡±

    ¡°Nope. It¡¯s a promise.¡±

    Alana gasped, a shiver of excitement going through her as Lou took a metaphorical hammer to the thick tension in the air by pulling the older woman into a kiss. Like horses whipped into a gallop, the slow pace was overtaken by frantic energy. In a few breaths, the two women were all over each other.

    Alana quietly admired Cynthia¡¯s zeal. The older woman had at least a decade more of age on Lou, without the benefits of a pure physical affinity like Kierra, but easily matched Lou¡¯s aggression. She was practically thrown against a tree but that didn¡¯t stop her from pulling off Lou¡¯s shirt. Alana crept as close as she dared, close enough that she could just hear Cynthia¡¯s quiet moan as Lou broke their kiss to undo the laces of her dress.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tease me,¡± Alana muttered, anxious that the deliberate actions meant a slower pace. She loved the caring role Lou took on when they were together, but she had to admit, if only to herself, that she preferred to watch more¡­beastly behavior.

    ¡°Normally, I¡¯d take things slow but¡ª¡± Cynthia yelped as she was turned around, her hands placed over her head and pinned there. ¡°This is just the beginning of a looong night.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-32 (Alana)

    ¡°Are you normally this eager, Lou?¡± Cynthia teased, though her voice hitched at the end as her dress was hiked up. She gasped, and Alana right alongside her, as a hand forced her legs to part before sliding over her chest to lightly grab her by the throat.

    ¡°Always.¡±

    Alana snickered, quietly admiring how brazen her lover could be. Lou turned Cynthia¡¯s head and forcefully kissed her. From her angle, Alana couldn¡¯t make out many of the details but with her experience, she could make a pretty good guess. If she was right, the alchemist was experiencing Lou¡¯s tongue, specifically how overwhelming it was to have it fill her mouth. With Kierra, she could put up a few moments of token struggle before the elf dominated their kisses but there was no such option with the beast in Lou¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Which is both good and bad for you,¡± Lou said as she broke the kiss. Looking over shoulder straight in Alana¡¯s direction, she held her palm under her open mouth, her tongue lolling from her mouth as thick saliva pooled in her hand. ¡°Good news is you¡¯re going to get your verification very soon. Bad news¡­¡± Cynthia moaned as Lou¡¯s hand moved between her leg. ¡°¡­is that I make up for staying power with stamina. Though I suppose that¡¯s good news too, haha.¡±

    ¡°Oh saints.¡± Cynthia squirmed against the tree as Lou¡¯s hand worked between her legs. ¡°That works¡­¡± Her words were interrupted by a shiver. ¡°Fast. Fuck!¡± She groaned as Lou removed her hand. ¡°Why did you stop?¡±

    ¡°So you can appreciate my demonstration. Can you feel what my body¡¯s doing to you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s so¡­hot. My body is burning up and you¡¯ve barely touched me.¡± The alchemist chuckled, the sound strained. ¡°Almost feels like you¡¯re cheating.¡±

    ¡°I never play fair.¡±

    It was Alana¡¯s turn to squirm as Lou¡¯s pants dropped, her hand eager to pleasure herself but she stopped. As titillating as it was to watch, she could never lose control in the open. Her refusal to satisfy her urges made her even more aware of them and her gaze that much more intense. Cynthia had to feel the hot eyes on the back of her head. Alana couldn¡¯t help imagining the alchemist would turn around and somehow divine her position. Their eyes would meet and then she would know.

    The thought caused her stomach to knot with dread as well as a strange excitement. Alana didn¡¯t want to be caught or to have her particular brand of perversion exposed but while she hated the thought, she also¡­she also felt something she didn¡¯t want to examine too closely.

    ¡°Ahhhhnn¡­¡±

    Alana was jolted out of her thoughts by Cynthia¡¯s breathy moan, shortly followed by others. The two women, despite being engaged in an intimate act, were opposites in demeanor. Lou, bare-chested and pants pooled at her ankles, was a study in control, from her tense shoulders to her taut legs, showing off the incredible definition of her muscles. She moved her waist at a sedate pace, slowly fucking the older woman with deliberate strokes.

    Cynthia was the opposite. She couldn¡¯t do much, trapped between two hard places with her hands held in a strong grip but she took full advantage of what limited mobility she did have, grinding herself against her lover, meeting every thrust with a jerk of her hips. Alana slowly moved along the hedge she was hiding behind, looking for a better vantage point. Given their positions, the best view Alana could get was of their side profiles, but it was more than enough to make out the alchemist¡¯s tightly shut eyes, open mouth, and heavy flush that showed through her bronze skin. She looked like a woman lost in moment of ecstasy.

    Lou, on the other hand, wore a small smirk. Alana knew her lover was holding back, controlling her lust and her strength. But it wasn¡¯t like their time together. Lou might not get as much physically as she would with Kierra but she was emotionally invested. The whole time they were together, they held each other¡¯s gaze. Alana was subjected to hours of Lou looking down at her affectionately, only breaking the connection to kiss her softly or cuddle her close while she came down from her climax.

    There was nothing soft about the way Lou looked at Cynthia. Her expression oozed smugness. While their time was full of love, each time Lou thrust into the alchemist, she was padding her ego.

    Of course, Lou did feel something physical. Her gift, as she liked to call it, was quite sensitive. Lou constructed her form to feel pleasure. Relentless pleasure. She wasn¡¯t concerned with holding back any climaxes, only with experiencing as many as she could. As Cynthia moans became a scream, the sound abruptly cut off by Lou¡¯s free hand clamping over her mouth, and the older woman¡¯s back arched, Lou¡¯s eyelids began to flutter, the biggest clue to her impending release. Alana¡¯s thighs rubbed together as Cynthia¡¯s muffled whines filled the air. Lou closed her eyes as she held the trembling woman against her, lips slightly pursed as her hips moved intermittently.

    Alana knew what it felt like to be in that position. Feeling Lou¡¯s strong arms around her, nose filled with Lou¡¯s scent and Lou teasing her neck. Her body becoming weak as it melted from the liquid heat being pumped inside her, each spurt followed by a wave of pleasure that echoed her climax.

    But that wasn¡¯t the most intense part of being with Lou. That came after the first round, when the effects of Lou¡¯s ejaculate made themselves known. If arousal could be described as a flame, Lou¡¯s essence was a ridiculously strong accelerant. After their first round, Alana¡¯s body was so sensitive, the slightest touch had her nearing the edge. Her brain could focus on nothing but sex, becoming useless mush that only wanted more of her lover.

    Alana could see the signs in Cynthia. Specifically, in the way she became boneless. If Lou didn¡¯t have such a tight hold on her, the alchemist would have fallen. The blonde could practically hear Lou¡¯s thoughts as her hooded violet eyes stared at the woman in her arms. The satisfaction from having effortlessly dominated and satisfied a woman. Especially potent as Cynthia was just her type. Lou had varied tastes when it came to women, but she undoubtedly preferred older, confident women.

    Alana could also see the hesitation in Lou¡¯s gaze. Wondering if she had gone too far. Or not far enough. Concerned about how her body would affect someone of such a ¡°weak¡± constitution. Eager to find out but hesitant over the possible consequences.

    Geneva could twist someone inside out with words alone. Lou¡¯s body was far more potent. If she didn¡¯t practice restraint, Alana imagined she could easily corrupt any woman. Or worse, break them. Make them incapable of doing anything but lusting after her ¡°gift¡±. Something far too close to the mental abuse of the Grimoires for Lou to ever do.

    Alana also thought Lou weaponizing the sexual prowess of her prime form would be reprehensible¡­but that didn¡¯t stop the same thought from exciting her. Or for the thought to stir her desire to see more.

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    Alana swallowed, warring with herself. It was a short battle.

    ¡°Take it off,¡± she whispered, knowing Lou would hear her. ¡°The dress.¡±

    Thankfully, Lou didn¡¯t look up, as that might have shattered Alana¡¯s fragile will. Lou¡¯s smug smirk stretched into a wide smile as she followed the order, her hands carefully removed Cynthia¡¯s dress. The alchemist, gaze distant and hazy, helped when she realized what Lou was doing, stepping out of the garment when it pooled on the ground.

    Then Lou kicked away her pants, leaving the two of them naked. She still didn¡¯t raise her head, but her body was tense. Waiting. Alana¡¯s heartbeat spiked as she realized that Lou was waiting for her next command.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, darling?¡± One of Cynthia¡¯s hands reached up to caress Lou¡¯s cheek. ¡°Where¡¯s that stamina you bragged about?¡±

    ¡°Just deciding what to do with you.¡±

    ¡°Do you need a suggestion?¡±

    Alana swallowed heavily. ¡°Put her legs over your shoulders. I want her to feel you.¡± Lou was a lot heavier than her appearance suggested. If she pressed down on someone with her full weight, they didn¡¯t have a chance in the world of breaking free. Unless it was Kierra but even the elf with a pure physical affinity would be troubled.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got plenty,¡± Lou said with a chuckle as she followed the direction. Her hands grabbed Cynthia by the waist, the alchemist¡¯s legs crossing behind her back as Lou lifted her. She dropped to her knees before carefully laying the older woman on the grass. Cynthia groaned as her legs were put over Lou¡¯s shoulders, sounding almost as excited as the blonde secretly directing their activities.

    ¡°Press¡­press them down. Pin her.¡± Alana felt things inside her twist with tension as Lou did as she was told, pinning the older woman beneath her. Cynthia¡¯s mobility was limited when trapped between Lou and a tree but now she was completely immobile. Unable to do anything as Lou used her to get off and filled her potent cum. Fertile cum. Alana wondered if the alchemist knew that. It was hard to imagine, as Lou¡¯s gift didn¡¯t look like a male¡¯s member, but she was just as capable as knocking up a woman as any man. Maybe more. Lou designed her prime form to be stronger, in every way. Alana knew that her lover was too conscientious to let the night have any far-reaching consequences but the thought of it was enough to make Alana lose ground in her battle of restraint. A hand slowly massaged the front of her pants as Lou kissed Cynthia.

    ¡°Fucking saints,¡± Cynthia growled as Lou slowly brought their waists together. ¡°For a woman, you¡¯re, mm, rather big. S-surprised you were modest. I know plenty of m-men who would do obscene things if given the chance to sculpt their tools. Yours is rather remarkable but still m-mangeable. Much more important is how you use it.¡±

    Alana¡¯s frown deepened with every word the alchemist spoke. Cynthia was struggling to remain coherent, her pitch suddenly rising and her cadence interrupted by stutters, but she forced herself to speak. As if to defy Lou¡¯s physical dominance and declare that the young woman wasn¡¯t as powerful as she thought she was. Something that annoyed Alana. She didn¡¯t agree to this to see her lover get wrapped around a woman¡¯s fingers. That sight happened every day.

    ¡°Shut her up,¡± she hissed. And like before, Lou obliged. She placed her heads on either side of Cynthia¡¯s head, and slightly pushed up on her toes. Giving her leverage as she starting fucking the older woman with zeal. Nothing close to the beastly rutting she defaulted to with Kierra but far more than the relaxed, almost clinical motions from before.

    It certainly shut Cynthia up. Her mouth was dropped open, nothing but pants escaping her parted lips as she took their waists came together with audible slaps. A sound finally escaped the older woman, a short wail that was just as much a yelp of surprise as it was a cry of release. It didn¡¯t stop Lou for a moment. Nor did Cynthia doing her best to gauge out the flesh of Lou¡¯s shoulder as a second climax wracked her body on the heels of the first. Lou fucked her through her own climax, teeth grit and eyes fluttering.

    The alchemist eventually found her voice but words were nowhere to be found. When her the sounds she was making became too loud, Lou swallowed her moans, gagging the other woman with her prodigious tongue. The unceasing motion was hypnotic. Alana felt time slipping away. There was only Lou¡¯s perfectly toned ass, Cynthia¡¯s rolled back eyes, and her hand that she wouldn¡¯t let do anything more than tease her.

    Sometime later, Lou¡¯s motions slowed and eventually stilled. Alana groaned as her lover pulled away from the alchemist, sitting back on her heels as she carefully moved Cynthia¡¯s legs from her shoulders. ¡°No, honey,¡± Alana groaned. ¡°Why¡¯d you stop?¡±

    ¡°Because she¡¯s unconscious, sweetie. I¡¯m not an actual degenerate that has her way with women while they¡¯re non-responsive.¡±

    Lou waved for her to approach. Alana resisted, sensing a compromising situation if she did, but the violet eyes proved too compelling. She reluctantly emerged from her mediocre hiding place and crept forward. Her heart slammed in her chest as the alchemist twitched. She was sure the older woman was about to open her eyes and see her.

    But Cynthia¡¯s lids remained close. Her body continued to twitch, small flicks of her fingers or curls of her toes, but nothing to suggest to consciousness. Alana understood why once she stood over the two of them. The alchemist was covered in sweat, the area around her mouth was thick with saliva from the sloppy kisses they¡¯d shared, and her thighs were covered in Lou¡¯s spunk.

    ¡°I made a mess,¡± Lou said with a chuckle. ¡°Think she got more than she bargained for?¡±

    Alana swallowed, the question sounding like indistinct buzzing as her lustful, unsatisfied brain could only focus on the ¡°mess¡± Lou had made. She swallowed, fighting a sudden and nearly overwhelming craving.

    ¡°Just do it.¡±

    Alana jumped as a hand grabbed her shoulder. She turned to find Lou at her side, eyes twinkling with amusement. The hand pressed down. It was impossible for Alana to resist the force behind it, even if she wanted to. She let Lou push her to her knees. The hand gravitated to her neck, guiding her to bend over as Lou knelt beside her.

    The blonde shuddered as she breathed in Lou¡¯s scent, even more potent from the concentration. Her nose hovered over the alchemist¡¯s navel. If she leaned down a little more¡­

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, sweetie. You know my sweet girl is only for me. No one will see.¡± The hand on her neck moved to her hair, massaging her scalp. A softer pressure but just as compelling. Alana shoved aside her anxious thoughts, wanting the moment too much to let her anxieties get in the way.

    As her nose was gently guided between Cynthia¡¯s legs, Alana carefully licked at the mess she found there. And once she started, she couldn¡¯t stop. The hand in her hair retreated but Alana didn¡¯t need the encouragement, eagerly searching out every trace of her lover¡¯s essence. Cynthia¡¯s body continued to twitch and jerk, responding to the teasing. Eventually, Alana tired of it and put a hand on either thigh, holding them in place as she finished her snack.

    When she could no longer taste Lou on the older woman¡¯s folds, she retreated, letting out a shuddering breath. The night that had been comfortably cool moments ago was quickly becoming uncomfortably hot. She wanted to peel her dress off and let the cool air run over her prickling skin. Or soak in a cold bath for hours. Or push her ass into the air and let Lou take her next.

    Her legs trembled as a strong hand hauled her to her feet. Lou, dressed and put together, stood beside Alana, holding her up. If not for the visible bulge in her pants, there would be no sign that she¡¯d just put a woman to sleep with her gift. ¡°Got a little carried away, huh.¡± Two thumbs wiped the corners of Alana¡¯s mouth. ¡°I bet your underwear is drowning right now.¡±

    Alana looked away, afraid the truth would show in her expression. In truth, the space between her thighs had been uncomfortably damp from the moment Lou hiked up Cynthia¡¯s dress.

    ¡°Need a little help?¡±

    ¡°¡­not here.¡± She couldn¡¯t do it, no matter how much she wanted it.

    ¡°Then we better finish the tour.¡±

    ¡°Tour? You really care about that?¡±

    ¡°How would it look if the mistress of the house doesn¡¯t pay the slightest bit of attention to the work of her servants? I at least want to make sure Gajin is putting on a good show. Then we can go back to the house and¡­take care of you.¡±

    Alana nodded her head toward Cynthia. ¡°What about her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s coming with us, of course. What kind of host would I be if I left her here?¡± Alana reflexively closed her eyes as Lou leaned forward, dropping a quick peck on her lips. ¡°Come on, sweetie. You¡¯re not the only one feeling pent up.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-33

    Saints, but Alana is perfect.

    A sentiment I¡¯m sure she¡¯d disagree with, given that she once questioned why I was even attracted to her. She takes the word too literal. Perfection isn¡¯t a constant state, as nothing and no one is always perfect. To me, perfect is used to describe a brief moment where I can¡¯t imagine anything better than that moment.

    I suppose one¡¯s position on the scale of perfection is determined by how frequently they can invoke such feelings. Alana does it more than she thinks. There¡¯re times when she¡¯s dashing, jaw set in a firm line as she readies herself to stand against an injustice. Having grown up around the martial zeal of the north, she understands how I find her readiness to cut someone to get her point across attractive. She¡¯s less understanding about her physical attractiveness.

    Her entire life she¡¯s been compared to her sister, the rose blooming in the north as her fans call her, and never measuring up. Yulianna is beautiful. Undeniably so. I can understand how that and being compared to myself and Kierra could prompt insecurity, but the idea is ridiculous. If only she could see herself as I see her.

    One day, I¡¯ll get her to understand that a sweaty woman dressed in a loose shirt is sexy. Maybe through a demonstration.

    Not to mention how cute it is when she gets embarrassed. Or the small gestures like leaning on my shoulder earlier to comfort me. Every one of those moments is perfect and she does it without thinking.

    And there are no words for what ¡°sweet¡± Alana does for me. Watching her lap up my cum from between another woman¡¯s legs and do it with such obvious relish¡­fuck. It takes everything I have not to throw her to the ground. The only thing that holds me back is knowing that being intimate out in the open makes her uncomfortable.

    Oh, she wouldn¡¯t push me away. When she gets in the mood, her judgment is as flexible as Kierra. That¡¯s why I am extra careful with her. She can only let herself go because she trusts me so I¡¯ll do anything to maintain that trust. Even suffer stuffing my gift back into my pants and enduring the sweet ache of my lust. Getting off a few times is nothing but a tease with my constitution.

    Alana is just as desperate, having consumed so much of my essence. She¡¯s walking much closer than usual and her hand keeps stroking my lower back. She pulls it back when she realizes what she¡¯s doing only for her fingers to brush my shoulders a few minutes later. Signs of her fraying restraint. I don¡¯t know what she¡¯ll do if she¡¯s made to wait too long.

    The only one completely satisfied is Cynthia, blissfully asleep in my arms. We did what we could to clean her up, wiping her down and finger combing the grass out of her hair, before putting her dress back on but anyone with eyes and a working nose can guess what happened. I hope she¡¯s as self-assured as she comes off, as there will undoubtedly be rumors spreading about tonight. Saints, she still has to get through tonight. A little rest is in order but it¡¯s far too early for anyone to bow out of the celebrations.

    ¡°Damn!¡±

    The excited exclamation draws my attention and I change directions, weaving through the hedges until I find the source. Oh, what was the name of Alyssa¡¯s lackey? Leon?

    ¡°Lane Macklemore,¡± Alana whispers, her breath tickling my ear.

    ¡°I knew that,¡± I mutter. How did she know I was trying to remember his name?!

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Mr. Macklemore!¡± I shout, perhaps disrespectfully. In Harvest, a last name implies status but doesn¡¯t always equate to nobility. Commoners can be granted family names by nobles of suitable status. It¡¯s uncommon, but not rare. In fact, if I hear a surname I don¡¯t recognize, there¡¯s an equal chance of it belonging to lesser nobles or notable commoners.

    With those odds, it¡¯s best to err on the side of caution and address strangers with some degree of formality. Nobles tend to get testy when they aren¡¯t addressed properly.

    In the past, I¡¯d never take the chance of earning a random noble¡¯s ire by addressing them as I would a commoner but I¡¯m a different person now.

    Actually, I might have taken the chance back then. This Lane doesn¡¯t strike me as a young lord. Or especially impressive. Or happy.

    He seems pretty engaged kneeling at the base of one of the arches but something about the young man exploring the wonderful garden alone is depressing. I don¡¯t often take pity on men, but no one¡¯s allowed to be unhappy tonight.

    The young man shoots to his feet, eyes shifty with guilt. ¡°Lady Tome!¡± He scratches the back of his neck while wearing a wry grin.

    ¡°Call me Lou.¡±

    ¡°Feel free to call me Lane.¡± His eyes move to the unconscious woman in my arms. To his credit, he doesn¡¯t immediately become hostile, confusion dominating his expression. ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯s fine. Got a little excited out there and decided to take a nap.¡±

    ¡°Outside?¡±

    ¡°The whims of women. What about you, Lane? Are you enjoying the tour? You seemed quite interested in that arch.¡±

    ¡°Arch? Are you not aware that it¡¯s an artifact?¡±

    Am I not¡ªwhat kind of idiot doesn¡¯t know that the giant arches around their house are artifacts? ¡°I was aware,¡± I reply drily.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Lane flushes, realizing his faux pas. ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t mean any offense. I was just¡­¡± He waves a hand toward the arch. ¡°I was thinking about getting into enchanting. It¡¯s pretty rare to see such large artifacts so I was curious.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Er, well enchanting requires very precise inscriptions and it¡¯s hard to¡ª"

    ¡°Not that. I¡¯m asking why you want to get into enchanting.¡± Artifacts are popular but the profession isn¡¯t. It¡¯s a very expensive trade to learn, as the proper materials cost more than most laborers make in a year.

    Besides that, enchantments are guarded jealously, more than any spell. The only way to learn is an old-fashioned apprenticeship and who knows what any prospective teacher would ask in recompense for their teaching. Some treat their apprentices like slaves, even after their training, using contracts and sometimes outright threats to keep their students from striking out on their own and creating more competition. The more profitable the industry, the more cutthroat the practices.

    ¡°Can¡¯t be an acolyte all my life. Enchanting pays good money. Enough to live like a lord and support a family.¡±

    ¡°Which do you want? To live like a lord or support a family?¡±

    ¡°¡­are they different?¡±

    ¡°Depends on what you mean by live like a lord. In my experience, that generally means an excessive amount of crowns spent on frivolous pleasures. And supporting a family isn¡¯t just about money.¡± Though it helps. ¡°So? Do you want to live it up or be a family man?¡± I chuckle as I watch his growing confusion. ¡°Something tells me you don¡¯t want either of those things.¡±

    Lane¡¯s eyes flick to the sleeping Cynthia, to Alana, then back to me. ¡°¡­do you mind if I ask you something weird?¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, I¡¯d welcome it. Ask away!¡±

    The young man shuffles his feet. ¡°So, uh¡­¡± Anxiety is practically dripping off him as he fidgets, fingers twitching and jaw working. Beside me, Alana sighs in exasperation, but I watch the show with a smile. He¡¯s going to spit it out and if he¡¯s this nervous about it, it¡¯s bound to be entertaining. ¡°How do you get women to notice you?¡±

    I take it back. All my hopes are dashed and I let out my own sigh. ¡°Have you seen me?¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah, but you haven¡¯t always had that face, right? You were just an ordinary girl, but you got someone like the elf to marry you. I¡¯m asking how you did that.¡±

    Oh? Oh hoh? There might be something to this after all. ¡°So to be clear, you¡¯re asking how I, an ordinary girl with no talent to speak of and few prospects, managed to interest a woman more powerful, more worldly, and much better looking than me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    ¡°Looking for a way to get Miss Alyssa to notice you?¡±

    He jumps. ¡°Uh, no, no. What made you think that?¡±

    I just stare at him. Eventually, he winces and bows his head. ¡°That obvious?¡±

    ¡°Only to anyone with eyes.¡±

    Lane sighs. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying for years but she still sees me as a student. Figure it¡¯s because I don¡¯t have much going on. Women want stable men, right? Good money coming in, a good house¡ª"

    He frowns as I interrupt him with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I say as I struggle to pull myself together. ¡°It¡¯s just¡ªhahaha!¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡± Alana scolds while slapping my shoulder.

    I smother my humor. ¡°Sorry,¡± I say to the frowning Lane. ¡°What you said was so ridiculous I couldn¡¯t help myself.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean ridiculous? My mother always said that a man needs success if he wants a good wife.¡±

    This poor bastard. ¡°Oh, definitely. Women will flock to a man of means. Plenty of them good sensible women who appreciate the safety of a good income and will make good wives. But you¡¯re not chasing a good wife. You¡¯re chasing the woman of your dreams.¡±

    ¡°I, ah, wouldn¡¯t say¡ª"

    ¡°Does Miss Alyssa need someone who can bring in crowns or provide a new house? Of course she doesn¡¯t. She¡¯s more than capable of taking care of herself. Oh sure. Everyone likes to be pampered and having something of your own might dispel Alyssa¡¯s image of you as her student but so what? Neither of those makes you, Lane Macklemore, more appealing.¡±

    ¡°Less appalling, maybe,¡± Alana adds. ¡°Not that you¡¯re appalling. I don¡¯t know you. Just making a point.¡±

    ¡°A good one,¡± I emphasize before the clearly offended Lane can comment. ¡°So, you need to ask yourself that question again.¡±

    ¡°What question?¡±

    ¡°What women want, idiot. Saints, ignore that. I take it back. The real question is, what does Miss Alyssa want? Women aren¡¯t the same.¡± What I want is very different from what Kierra wants and that is very different from what Alana wants.

    The young man huffs. ¡°I know that much. Doesn¡¯t mean I know how to figure it out.¡±

    ¡°You could ask her.¡±

    ¡°What?! That¡¯s¡ªyou¡¯re crazy!¡±

    ¡°Why? It¡¯s the fastest and most accurate way of knowing her mind.¡± Short of having a succubus steal the information. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re so opposed to the idea.¡±

    ¡°Because¡­cause¡­¡± He trails off but the answer is obvious.

    ¡°Have you told her you want to stick your hands, and several other parts of yourself, down her pants?¡±

    ¡°NO!¡± he shouts, horrified.

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s your problem. She can¡¯t even consider you as a suitor if she doesn¡¯t think you¡¯re interested.¡±

    ¡°She knows I¡¯m interested.¡±

    ¡°You sure about that?¡±

    ¡°She has to be! I¡¯ve dropped hint after hint. I joined the Grand Watch. People would rather fight in the campaigns than be the Hall¡¯s errand boys. We¡¯ve lived in the same house, for saints¡¯ sake.¡±

    ¡°So¡­you follow her around loyally. Do you know what else does that? Horses. Puppies. Children.¡± I chuckle. ¡°And you wonder why she only sees you as a student.¡±

    Lane frowns in indecision. ¡°She has to know¡­right?¡±

    ¡°And if she doesn¡¯t?¡± I sigh as the young man remains silent, worrying his bottom lip. ¡°Then¡­¡± I try to prompt him, but I still don¡¯t receive an answer. ¡°Then you have to tell her.¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Can¡¯t do that. I thought she knew and didn¡¯t mind but if she doesn¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, she may be disgusted by your feelings and send you away. Or she could be impressed by your daring and let you take her to dinner.¡±

    ¡°¡­no. I need to be careful about this. Feel her out.¡±

    ¡°You want to feel her out when you could be feeling her up?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know boss¡ª"

    ¡°That¡¯s another problem. How do you expect her to see you as anything but a lackey when you¡¯re calling her boss? Unless she¡¯s into that and I¡¯m sure if she was, you¡¯d know by now.¡± Miss Alyssa isn¡¯t the type to tiptoe around her feelings. ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that if you wait too long, someone else will take your opportunity. Maybe that crusty hunter. They seemed close.¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t close,¡± he quickly and vehemently denies.

    ¡°They¡¯re close enough for her to invite him to a personal party.¡±

    ¡°She invited me to this party.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯ve already established she sees you as a lackey. I doubt she sees him as a lackey. That makes him a close friend or her date. Either way, leagues ahead of you.¡± I laugh at his stricken expression. ¡°You don¡¯t have to listen to me if you don¡¯t want to. Not like I have two wives and a mistress.¡±

    Alana huffs but doesn¡¯t object to being referred to as my wife, cheeks lightly flushed. If I didn¡¯t have a woman in my arms, I¡¯d squeeze her. She¡¯s so adorable.

    Lane, less so. He looks ridiculous grappling with himself. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he eventually says. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right but¡­if I say it and she doesn¡¯t¡­¡± He groans, shaking his head. ¡°I can¡¯t say it.¡±

    I shuffle Cynthia as I approach him, freeing a hand so I can pat him on the shoulder. ¡°Why do you think they call it liquid courage? Don¡¯t worry, Lane. By the end of the night, you¡¯ll be as brave as a saint. You might even have the woman of your dreams.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-34

    With Lane trailing behind us, his head bowed in thought, we rejoin the tour, finding everyone else standing around a large flower planted in a secluded area, separated from the nearest flowers by its own smaller hedges. Oh, I remember this one. One of the more fun varieties in this part of the garden.

    ¡°¡ªmore dangerous species. At first glance, it looks like its leaves are sprouting from its stem but¡­¡± Gajin holds up a hand, silently telling his audience not to follow him as he approaches the plant. As he draws closer, leafy vines unwind from the thick stem and begin to sway.

    I purposely turn my gaze, watching the plant from the corner of my eyes. Beside me, Alana does the same, just as familiar with the oddities of the garden.

    The watching crowd isn¡¯t as prepared. They are completely enraptured as the vines of the plant sway and snap, gazes blank. I know from experience that if they are left alone, they will continue to stare at the plant indefinitely, oblivious to their surroundings.

    It¡¯s how the plant hunts. Something about the movement of the vines, when observed directly, confuses the brain. Leaves the prey vulnerable to the assault of the thicker vines near the base of the stem. As this is the front garden, the danger has been neutralized by the hedges around it that severely hamper the movement of those lower vines.

    Gajin hisses, making a sound not unlike an angry housecat. The hypnotic vines stop their dance and obediently curl around the thick stem of the plant.

    Kierra can train plants. Something that sounds ridiculous but is rather simple in theory. At least, it¡¯s simple when you have a pure affinity. As her student and second pair of hands, Gajin has learned the signals she uses. The man has come a long way from the bandit I almost stabbed on the King¡¯s Road.

    My gardener wakes up each member of the audience by snapping his fingers in front of their faces until they come back to their senses. ¡°And that is the danger of the Verdant Beauty. The plant nourishes itself by hypnotizing those that watch it and strangling them with the larger lower vines. Mistress is very fond of strangling plants. It¡¯s best to be wary of anything with vines in the garden. And that brings us to the end of our tour. I have to tend to some of the night children. In the meantime, you can return to the house or take a seat at the tables we¡¯ve set up. Thank you for accompanying me for this demonstration.¡±

    William claps but the sound quickly dies when he realizes he¡¯s the only one applauding, his hands dropping to his side as his face flushes with embarrassment. There¡¯s no need for his self-consciousness as the group ignores him, falling in line behind Gajin as he motions for them to follow. I join the procession. Arthur spots me when he looks over his shoulder and leaves his group to walk beside me. ¡°Do you think that viney thing can survive on a ship?¡±

    ¡°When it comes to my wife and her pure affinity, I just assume she can do whatever. Better question. Is what you have in mind interesting enough for her to bother?¡±

    ¡°On the sea, spells are used to disable enemy ships, but the bulk of the fighting happens after boarding actions. Not to mention all the creatures that like to jump on deck. Those vines would make a heck of a deterrent.¡±

    ¡°If they aren¡¯t strangling your crew. And that¡¯s just one of the problems I can think of.¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°It was just a thought. I¡­well, in my little dream, your creature taught me the valuable of using things in unusual ways. A boarding crew is always ready for martial fighters and casters. No one¡¯s going to be prepared for dancing plants that shut their brains off and strangles them when they¡¯re not paying attention.¡± He chuckles. ¡°In fact, there¡¯s a few things in this death trap disguised as a garden that I¡¯d like on a ship.¡±

    ¡°I think death trap is going a bit too far. We¡¯ve paid attention to safety.¡± I wave a hand at the hedges.

    ¡°Yeah? You¡¯re telling me this place hasn¡¯t killed anyone?¡±

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    I open my mouth to say no, but a feeling makes me pause. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    My hesitance is obvious and the pirate doesn¡¯t hesitate to point it out. ¡°Would you know if it had?¡±

    ¡°I think a corpse would stand out.¡±

    ¡°Would it? If it was wrapped up in vines, would you even notice? Heh, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if that gardener of yours grinded up the corpses and used them as plant food. There is something wrong with him. There¡¯s something wrong with all your servants.¡±

    ¡°I resent that. They all do a wonderful job.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Too wonderful of a job. Your gardener just hissed at a plant to tell it not to eat us. And don¡¯t get me started on that creepy brat you call a steward. That little fucker is all kinds of wrong.¡±

    I want to point out that my servants are strong, motivated, and capable people who are well-fed and well-sheltered. They live better lives than most in Harvest and their futures are full of prospects. But whether that¡¯s worth a succubus putting her fingers in their minds is questionable.

    I ordered her to keep her fingers off their personalities and to help them improve themselves, but some might still think of it as an unforgivable invasion. I¡¯m sure Arthur wouldn¡¯t approve, given his only experience with Geneva¡¯s ¡°attentions¡± was horrific. Feeling charitable, I decide to leave the topic be.

    Gajin leads the group to the sitting area, where tables have been set up beneath the glowing light of one of the arches, iridescent torches lining the surrounding hedges. I walk over to the table closest to the house and settle Cynthia in one of the chairs. Before I straighten up, a strong hand grabs my shoulder and I turn to meet Alyssa¡¯s narrowed eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not what you think,¡± I say quickly, dreading the thought of her throwing around flames.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± The instructor moves me aside¡­or at least she tries. Her brows furrow but I graciously step back before she can dwell on my surprising strength and weight. Alyssa gives me a look before leaning over her friend¡­and breathing in deeply. She sighs as she straightens up and backpedals. ¡°It¡¯s exactly what I think.¡± She gives me a look that¡¯s hard to decipher before walking away from the table.

    ¡°Wait for me, boss!¡± Lane shouts, running after her. I shake my head at the display. Poor bastard doesn¡¯t have a chance. I feel bad for him but¡­

    ¡°Do you think she was impressed?¡± I whisper to Alana, leaning toward her.

    ¡°She was something,¡± my future-knight scoffs. She takes a seat beside the sweetly dreaming alchemist. I take a seat beside her and Arthur sits on Cynthia¡¯s other side. To my surprise, a stranger drops beside me.

    ¡°I¡¯m impressed,¡± a girl dressed in far too much leather and far too little overall says as she takes a seat beside me. She has the same bronze skin and dark hair as Arthur, coloring I¡¯m beginning to think is common to the coast. Her hair is cut short, shorter than I¡¯ve seen any woman wear, and her only jewelry is a long tooth of some kind of predator hanging from a loop of string. Her dark eyes practically glitter as she leans toward me, putting her chin in a palm. ¡°Heard you were some kind of beast but fucking a woman unconscious in your backyard? That¡¯s hardcore.¡±

    The way she says it and the quirk of her lips makes me think hardcore is a compliment. ¡°As a good hostess, I strive to give my guests what they want.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she looks like she got what she wanted.¡±

    Saints, I haven¡¯t been this blatantly eye-fucked by a woman since¡­actually, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve even been ogled to this extent before. Cynthia was coy with her advances. Cloud was probably the most direct of my dalliances, but her attitude was more blunt than rabidly sexual like my guest. She¡¯s practically drooling over me.

    I have to admit, I¡¯m enjoying the attention.

    ¡°Lou, this is Walawala.¡±

    ¡°Family name,¡± she says with a roll of her eyes. ¡°A clan thought that dealing with leatherbacks was a better deal than fighting for more trees in the jungle. Graywatch isn¡¯t anyone¡¯s better option but we¡¯re kind of stuck with it. Friends call me Way.¡±

    ¡°Way, huh. So? Pirate? Smuggler?¡±

    ¡°Cook.¡±

    How mundane.

    Arthur scoffs. ¡°She means drugs, captain. Way¡¯s family mixes everything from stimulants, to aphrodisiacs, to poisons.¡±

    ¡°Look at you, speaking all proper.¡± The cook, in the broadest sense of the word, moves her leg. Presumably to kick him from Arthur¡¯s wince. ¡°And don¡¯t go dropping the gold on me, Shrimp. We don¡¯t want Lou to get the wrong impression.¡± She smiles at me and a gold tooth in her mouth gleams. ¡°A few cousins might have been involved in some, ah, unsavory business¡ª''

    ¡°More like your mother¡ª" I chuckle as Arthur is cut off by another wince.

    ¡°But I¡¯m here for respectable reasons. Going to be a proper alchemist. In fact, I was hoping to speak to her¡ª" Way inclines her head toward Cynthia. ¡°She gonna wake up soon?¡±

    ¡°Of course. There¡¯s a lot more party to get through.¡±

    With his usual unnerving timing, Earl appears at our table carrying a silver tray with several glasses, filled with the fruit wines from the smell. Except a shorter, squat glass filled with something that smells of spice. My steward takes it and waves it under the alchemist¡¯s nose. Within seconds, Cynthia¡¯s eyes flutter open. She lets out a sensual moan as she stretches, slowly focusing on her surroundings. Her eyes flick around the table before finding me, her lips turning up. ¡°Well. Looks like I¡¯ve embarrassed myself a little.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-35

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Cynthia accepts the glass offered by Earl, grimacing as she sniffs it. ¡°This is a bit¡­strong.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll wake you up,¡± I offer.

    ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t know, but I know it works.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ve entrusted you with my body once.¡± She winks as she takes a sip of her glass. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s not bad. And saints, it works.¡±

    ¡°Oi,¡± Way says as she leans across the table. My eyes unconsciously go to her chest. She¡¯s got a moderate bust, but her leather vest does a poor job covering it. Or maybe a great job showing it off. ¡°Did violet over here really fuck you unconscious?¡±

    Cynthia almost spits up her drink, setting down her glass while she daintily wipes away a few stray drops from the corner of her mouth. Thankfully, the alchemist is more amused than embarrassed, smiling as she locks gazes with the younger woman. ¡°A lady doesn¡¯t kiss and tell.¡±

    ¡°Please. Don¡¯t act like you¡¯ve got anything to hide. You reek, you know?¡±

    ¡°I think I smell rather good.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you do. Which is fucking weird. It¡¯s like sex and perfume, but mixed well. Which I thought was impossible. Trust me, I¡¯ve smelled enough clamhouses to know you can¡¯t cover up the smell of spunk and sweaty bodies with a few sprays of perfume. But, lo and behold.¡±

    ¡°Lou is full of surprises.¡±

    ¡°Is it true she¡¯s got a cock? Shrimp says she¡¯s got a seal between her legs, but I don¡¯t buy it.¡±

    ¡°Shrimp?¡±

    She jerks her head in Arthur¡¯s direction. ¡°He¡¯s big and tough now but used to be the shrimpiest punk on the dock and we¡¯ll never let him forget it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m right here, you overgrown brat,¡± Arthur grumbles behind a glass of wine.

    ¡°So am I,¡± I add. ¡°Could just ask me.¡±

    Way continues to eye-fuck me. ¡°Yeah? This is me asking.¡±

    I drain a glass of wine and stand up. ¡°As much as I like where this conversation is going, I¡¯ve been looking forward to Talia¡¯s performance. She should be ready soon. Your¡­questions can wait until then.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re dodging the subject.¡±

    ¡°Postponing. It¡¯s bound to be a long conversation.¡±

    I stand up as she laughs, stepping around Alana to lean down next to Cynthia. The alchemist hums as my lips brush her ear, then turns to steal my lips. ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding when you said you were magical,¡± she mutters. ¡°My body is still on fire. I can still taste you.¡±

    She tries to steal another kiss, but I turn so her lips brush my cheek instead. She isn¡¯t stymied, shifting her attention to my neck. ¡°Can you walk?¡± I whisper.

    ¡°If I say no, will you carry me again? I think I¡¯d like that.¡±

    ¡°Greedy woman. What will my wives think if you hog me for the rest of the night?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it a bit late for them to be jealous? I¡¯ve already had all of you.¡±

    ¡°Not all of me.¡± She doesn¡¯t have the right parts to experience all my prime form has to offer, heh.

    ¡°Oh? Then I¡¯ll have to take a closer look.¡±

    I look over my shoulder at Alana as the alchemist¡¯s hands brush along my sides. Mm, she¡¯s definitely still feeling the effects of my fluids. Really hope she¡¯s as self-assured as she comes off or things are going to be very awkward in the morning.

    ¡°You got yourself into this,¡± Alana says, turning her head without mercy.

    ¡°That¡¯s not very nice, sweetie.¡± I chuckle as her ears flush, but she refuses to look at me. But the sound is cut off by a yelp as a firm hand fondles my gift. Cynthia pouts as I hastily step out of her grasp. ¡°We should get inside before my clothes are torn off me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Way licks her lips. ¡°I think this is a better show than some lady singing.¡± Clearly, she hasn¡¯t heard Talia sing.

    ¡°If you can hold off on fucking your guests for a moment, captain, there¡¯s something I want to talk to you about.¡±

    Grown women pouting should be illegal. There is something irresistible about a mature beauty doing childish gestures that makes my stomach flutter. Since Arthur wants to have a word with me, I give in to Cynthia¡¯s silent begging and step back into her eager hands. What¡¯s a few minutes of being groped without being able to act on the growing heat between my thighs? If I wasn¡¯t fond of pleasant hardships, I wouldn¡¯t have married my wife. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I told you that my father wanted me to head east to deal with¡ª"

    ¡°Oi, Shrimp, you can¡¯t go talking about contracts!¡±

    Arthur lowers the glass he¡¯d been sipping from to glare at Way. ¡°You¡¯re practically licking her with your eyes, but we can¡¯t talk business?¡±

    ¡°This and that are different things,¡± the aspiring alchemist, or drug cook, says defensively, flashing me a quick smile. Flashing that gold tooth again. Something about it is kind of cute. Or I¡¯m still horny. Probably a mixture of both.

    ¡°I don¡¯t call Lou captain for nothing.¡±

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    ¡°Fine. It¡¯s your ass when your old man finds out.¡±

    Arthur snorts, showing just how little he cares about that threat. ¡°Like I was saying, captain. Someone from the capital contacted some of our people here at the Hall to help with the force that invaded through the southeast. Goblins of all things.¡±

    Cynthia¡¯s hands finally pause, her attention turning from getting more of me for a moment. ¡°I heard about that. My sources said that the crown wasn¡¯t worried.¡±

    The pirate son waves off the concern in her voice. ¡°The invasion has been handled. Just some strange circumstances around it. Our people sent back word that the green shits were handled¡­but their contracts have been extended.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± I mutter. Beside me, Alana looks over, the conversation having garnered her attention.

    ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t. Something¡¯s going on over there and whatever it is, our people aren¡¯t being allowed to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°And, what?¡± Arthur shrugs. ¡°Just thought you¡¯d be interested to know.¡±

    ¡°And¡­maybe you thought that because I have people out there, I could look into it.¡±

    He smiles but quickly hides it behind his glass. Saints, this bastard has changed. To think the day would come when the dog disguised as a human would learn subtlety.

    ¡°Alright.¡± It¡¯s not a bother. All I have to do is tell Geneva to get a message to the succubi and they¡¯ll investigate. Saints, they might already have all the details. ¡°I¡¯ll look into it, but what do you expect to get from meddling in Harvest¡¯s first war? I can tell you right now, I¡¯m not fighting it.¡± I already have to deal with a possible dragon in the north. No way I¡¯m getting involved in a war against another race.

    Well, not unless Harvest gets its ass kicked. I¡¯m not so callous I¡¯d watch my home burn, but things would have to get pretty bad for me to intervene.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll only fight the north¡¯s war?¡± Cynthia asks.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a personal stake in that.¡± I smile at Alana who hides behind her glass.

    ¡°Wait. You and her?¡± Way asks, a finger pointing between me and my future knight. ¡°By the deep, how many women do you have?¡±

    ¡°Not that many,¡± Arthur says, unimpressed.

    ¡°I mean, she doesn¡¯t have a whole ship full of jewels but those are jewels.¡± She speaks the word with clear disdain. Jewels, jewels¡­wait a minute. I think that¡¯s a Graywatch term for prostitutes.

    Geneva saw something about that in Arthur¡¯s memories. They¡¯re called that because they usually belong to a crew, no different from the jewels in a captain¡¯s chest. It doesn¡¯t sound like a spectacular lifestyle and Way clearly has no respect for said women. ¡°She¡¯s got women throwing themselves at her. I mean, she¡¯s married to an elf princess¡ª"

    ¡°Why does everyone keep calling her a princess?¡± I grumble but, as always when it comes to this particular topic, I¡¯m ignored.

    ¡°¡ªand then there¡¯s you.¡± The cook waves a hand at Cynthia, who is completely unbothered being called out. ¡°And you.¡± She waves in Alana¡¯s direction. ¡°And Shrimp tells me she¡¯s got two, er, what were they called?¡±

    ¡°Shapeshifting, mind-gurgling, devious, evil, abyss spawn,¡± the pirate son growls, throwing back the rest of his drink.

    ¡°Or succubi for short.¡±

    ¡°They can change shape? I bet you have a lot of fun with that.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you can¡¯t imagine.¡±

    ¡°Damn. Whatever¡¯s in your pants must be something else.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because she¡¯s so generous,¡± Arthur says. ¡°Fought in the campaigns for blondie over there.¡±

    ¡°A little more respect, Arthur.¡± That¡¯s my future wife.

    ¡°My bad, captain. For Lady James.¡±

    Alana scoffs. ¡°It sounds like an insult when you don¡¯t mean it. Just call me by my name, idiot.¡±

    Cynthia hums thoughtfully. ¡°I see. If you fought Victory¡¯s war to marry a James daughter, does that mean you¡¯ll fight the crown¡¯s war to marry a princess?¡±

    A full shiver goes down my spine, a dreadful feeling making something in my gut twist. ¡°Don¡¯t joke about that. Please.¡± The thought makes me want to drive a nail through my eye. Imagine being related to the royal family through marriage. Or being in the line of succession. Saints save me, the horror of it.

    ¡°The eldest princess is already married but there is still the second daughter. She¡¯s a bit young though¡­"

    ¡°What¡¯s a bit young?¡± I ask, my mouth betraying my apprehension for my curiosity.

    ¡°I believe she turned fourteen this year.¡±

    I gape at the alchemist, appalled.

    Alana beats me to commenting. ¡°Lou isn¡¯t a beast that preys on young girls!¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡±

    ¡°Besides, she prefers older women.¡±

    ¡°Exact¡ªwait.¡± Blue eyes narrow, daring me to contradict her. I swallow and retreat from the unwinnable battle.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have to consummate the marriage immediately. Many grooms like the idea of taking a young bride that will grow up accustomed to their temperament and habits. Are you not interested in the perfect wife?¡±

    Saints. For some reason, I feel like I need a bath. ¡°There is something so wrong with what you said, I can¡¯t even begin to pick it apart. Let¡¯s just say the idea disgusts me and leave it at that. And I already have a perfect wife. Two, actually.¡±

    Alana huffs but doesn¡¯t contradict me. She never does these days. I should get her a ring, make things official. I wonder what she¡¯d like. Nothing with a large rock on it. She¡¯d like something functional on her finger. Ah, no, she¡¯d love a big rock on her finger too, wouldn¡¯t she? She wouldn¡¯t wear it all the time but putting on for special occasions and showing it off¡­yeah, I can see that.

    Especially if it¡¯s better than her sister¡¯s. Mm-hm. Two rings then.

    ¡°My lady.¡± Earl bows as he appears beside the table again. ¡°Mistress Talia is ready for her performance.¡±

    Great. Any excuse to get away from this talk of marrying princesses and warring goblins. ¡°My songbird is ready to dazzle us so I¡¯m heading back inside.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, violet.¡± Way practically leaps out of her seat to grab my arm, beating Cynthia to it. But that doesn¡¯t stymie the alchemist for a moment, who grabs my other arm and holds it to her chest. The cook pokes the older woman in closest breast. ¡°Hey, old woman. You already got to tangle with the sea serpent. Let another girl swim in the waters.¡±

    ¡°Way, was it? Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯s got plenty to go around.¡±

    I look away from the women clinging to me to look at Alana, gauging her reaction. She¡¯s watching of course, from the corner of her eyes. I can smell her arousal. Her body is tense but not in an aggressive way. Her tight muscles and twitching fingers speak to excitement and barely controlled action. She likes what she sees but she doesn¡¯t want to wait another round.

    The performance will be the perfect time to slip away.

    ¡°Tell me more about this princess,¡± I ask Cynthia as I lead them back to the house.

    ¡°Oh? Interested after all?¡±

    ¡°Not like that. I just don¡¯t know much about the royal family. Given my recent problems with the king and his laws, I figure that¡¯s a disadvantage.¡±

    ¡°Ah, harmless inquiry. You know, that¡¯s how all the best romances start.¡±

    ¡°You got a hard-on for violet and that princess?¡± Way asks from my other side, mirroring my thoughts but expressing them far more crudely.

    ¡°Hm. I¡¯ve had occasion to meet the king. I¡¯d enjoy watching him deal with the fallout of Lou seducing one of his daughters and having orgies in the palace.¡± The alchemist chuckles. ¡°The man is far too self-important and has a broom handle firmly rammed up his backside. But, I digress. You wish to know about the princess and the rest of the royal family, yes? Then we best start with the best of the lot, the queen. Lovely woman when there isn¡¯t an audience looking on. Not at all cut out for the life of royalty. In fact, she would love a party like this.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Even the part where one of the guests gets fucked by the hostess in the garden?¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know about that. She¡¯d probably be amused. Loves wild and unusual tales. You might want to write her a letter. She has more power than most people think and she¡¯d be a powerful ally. Perhaps she could straighten out this whole mess about you being wanted without the city being razed.¡±

    Hm. Something to think about¡­but not tonight. ¡°Ah-ah. You¡¯re breaking the rules, Thia. No talking about being arrested. Think happy thoughts.¡±

    The alchemist chuckles. ¡°Of course. How careless of me. You¡¯re not looking for actionable information. Hm. I suppose salacious rumors and vicious gossip are more suited for the atmosphere?¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re talking!¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-36

    When we enter the house, the small stage is full of bodies and instruments. In the center of the bustle is Talia, a spot of stillness, standing straight as a fence post with her eyes shut. I watch as Cynthia¡¯s date approaches with a drink. She opens her eyes as he says something and holds out her hand for the glass. Before he can hand it over, Kierra is suddenly there. I saw her crossing the room, but the admittedly good-looking man didn¡¯t, jumping as she grabs his wrist.

    A strange feeling overcomes me as my wife raises the glass to her nose and sniffs. It¡¯s a mix of anger, dread, anxiety, and expectation. The world seems to slow down as I watch her expression change, going from mildly disapproving to murderous. I break away from Cynthia and Way¡¯s holds on my arms, rudely throwing them off as I stomp forward. Before I take two steps, Kierra grabs the soon-to-be-dead man by the throat, the dead man croaking as he is lifted off the ground.

    ¡°What did you put in that glass?¡± a furious Kierra hisses.

    ¡°Nothing!¡± he squeaks out. ¡°A blend that enhances taste. We were discussing it and I thought I would give her a sample!¡±

    ¡°There is nothing else?¡±

    ¡°No! What kind of a man do you think I am?¡±

    ¡°The kind of guy who puts something in a woman¡¯s drink without telling her,¡± I sneer, arriving at the scene. I gesture to Kierra to drop him and she does¡­only to grab him by the shoulder. Yeah, she¡¯s pissed and he¡¯s not going anywhere until she¡¯s satisfied. It¡¯s too bad that nothing but his blood will satisfy her. ¡°Thia?¡±

    ¡°Right here,¡± the alchemist says, sidling up to my side. Her eyes are regretful and her expression somber as she stares at him. ¡°Farran, what were you thinking?¡±

    ¡°I was being friendly¡ªhey, what are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Ignoring you,¡± I say while I search him. I turn his pockets inside out and find three bags, one noticeably smaller than the other two.

    ¡°You can¡¯t take those!¡± he protests but his attempts to break free of Kierra¡¯s hold is useless. Her glare stops further protests, the young man physically and literally shrinking under the weight of her displeasure. ¡°Cynthia, tell them they¡¯re overreacting!¡±

    ¡°They are not overreacting. You do not give people alchemical substances without their knowledge or permission. That¡¯s the basics. Have you completely forgotten my ethics class?¡±

    ¡°For the love of the saints¡¯, it was a drink. I offered to fetch her one, being a respectable gentleman. As I was fetching her drink, I thought to introduce her to my field of Sensory Enhancements. The powder I added is in the light brown bag. It is completely harmless, it¡¯s only effect to enhance sweet flavors and give bitter flavors more complexity,¡± Farran explains with growing indignation. ¡°Try it yourself. Saints, give it to me. I¡¯ll happily drink it to show I¡¯m serious.¡±

    I turn to Cynthia, who bites her lower lip in thought. ¡°Before tonight, I would have immediately vouched for his character. I didn¡¯t know he was the type to enhance a lady¡¯s drink without her permission. He can defend himself.¡±

    Farran sneers as she throws him to the proverbial wolves. ¡°Before tonight, I wouldn¡¯t have thought you were the kind of woman to throw herself at a little girl. Especially a married one. You have no right to look at me like that.¡±

    Little girl? Is this bastard blind? And how exactly do those two things compare? ¡°What are in the other two bags?¡± I ask, shaking them in front of him.

    He hesitates. It¡¯s the smallest of hesitations accompanied by the faintest twitch of the eyes that someone without my eyes would be hard-pressed to notice¡­but I do. So does Kierra and her tightening grip makes him wince.

    ¡°Answer,¡± I hiss menacingly.

    ¡°¡­the black bag is a mix that you sprinkle on the eyes. Allows you to see perfectly in anything but complete darkness but makes one very sensitive to light. I always keep a bag on me.¡±

    ¡°And the red bag?¡±

    Oh, he really doesn¡¯t want to tell us. Thankfully, he knows very well that he doesn¡¯t have a choice. ¡°My own blend, unnamed. It greatly magnifies sweet and sour flavors while inducing a mild state of euphoria.¡±

    Cynthia curses. ¡°Farran, you didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a scummy drug peddler! It¡¯s a mild effect with no side effects and I certainly wouldn¡¯t have offered it to her without her knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Oh no, of course not,¡± I say, pocketing the bags. ¡°You¡¯d just lower her guard with the harmless concoction before asking if she wanted to try your other work, right? Let her think it was just as harmless as the last stuff? Isn¡¯t that how it works?¡±

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    I gently slap his cheek. ¡°The real question is, what comes after that? You fix her a drink with your little magic powder, she¡¯s feeling good, and then what?¡± Farran flinches as I get uncomfortably close, holding his stare. ¡°What then, Mr. Respectable? Go on. Tell me you would have walked away having spread good cheer. Tell me you weren¡¯t hoping to take advantage of whatever your little party favor would have done to her.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± he says through grit teeth and, to my immense surprise, I believe him. His heart rate doesn¡¯t spike, his expression doesn¡¯t flinch, and his stare is steadfast. That is real righteous indignation in his tone. Huh. He might not actually be a scumbag. Or at least, not a complete scumbag. What he did is plenty scummy.

    Which is why I have no intention of forgiving him. He¡¯s stepped beyond all feasible boundaries of propriety with his little stunt, no matter his intentions. And though he says he didn¡¯t want to take advantage of Talia, I know he had something else planned rather than demonstrating his alchemical abilities.

    I¡¯m not just saying that because he¡¯s a man and she¡¯s a beautiful woman. He¡¯s just too squirrelly. I believe his little powders are what he claims to be, mainly harmless, but it wouldn¡¯t take much to compromise someone¡¯s judgment.

    While my insistence of having a good time and commitment to not immediately resorting to violence lends me to be merciful, my wife is reading from a very different book. This poor man just tried to mess with her flower and her expression says she doesn¡¯t care what his intentions were.

    ¡°I believe you,¡± I tell the dead man. ¡°Good news. That means I¡¯m not going to tear your head from your shoulders.¡±

    ¡°Do you expect me to thank you? This is an unwarranted assault!¡± Farran complains, not very grateful for my mercy.

    ¡°Unfortunately, there¡¯s also bad news and worse news. The bad news is that I¡¯m a wanted woman and could care less about legal consequences for things like assaulting people that offend me in my home.¡± I have to smother a laugh at how much his eyes widen. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that. The worse news is that my wife is something of a bloodthirsty maniac and she¡¯s not very happy with you.¡±

    ¡°Not happy at all,¡± the elf growls. Farran lets out a cry as Kierra¡¯s other hand squeezes his shoulder, probably breaking something. ¡°Come. Let me explain to you why you do not touch another¡¯s flower.¡±

    I wave as the angry elf drags him off, ignoring his protests. Poor bastard.

    ¡°Is she¡­¡± Cynthia starts but can¡¯t finish.

    ¡°Going to kill him? Not sure actually. He¡¯s¡­saints, he¡¯s nobody. But he tried to give Talia something suspicious. It could have been a potion of eternal life and she¡¯d still be pissed.¡± It¡¯s the principle of it.

    ¡°Lou.¡± I turn to Talia. ¡°A drink will make singing easier.¡±

    ¡°And yours was taken. One moment.¡± I don¡¯t even bother calling out for it. In the next moment, as expected, one of my servants appears with the requested drink. Namely Bell, holding the glass in her tail as she scampers onto the stage. She delivers her burden before running toward me, looking up at me with wide eyes next to my feet. ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± I scoop up the adorable succubus, falling right into her trap no doubt.

    I make my way back to Arthur and Way, Alana having wandered off. The pirate cook is practically bouncing on her feet. ¡°Hey, land captain,¡± she says once I¡¯m in range for a normal person to hear her whispers. ¡°If you¡¯re going to skiv that guy, I¡¯ve got a good recipe for making meat soup.¡±

    ¡°Skiv?¡± I ask, more disturbed by the nonsensical word than her offer to help me disappear a body. She¡¯s Arthur friend, I expect nothing less.

    She makes a jabbing motion. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t blame you. I¡¯ve seen his type, you know. Slips something in a girl¡¯s drink and makes off with her. Or knocks her out so he can go out to sea without paying for her services. In the gray, they get the same punishment as they would for stealing anything else. Lose their hands, heh.¡±

    Beside me, Cynthia sighs. ¡°I don¡¯t know what got into him.¡±

    Drink? Acute embarrassment and humiliation from having his date show more interest in someone else? Love at first sight compromising his judgment? Lust at first sight compromising his judgment? Temporary insanity?

    Whatever it is, it won¡¯t matter. ¡°He¡¯ll be lucky if losing his hands is the worst that happens to him.¡±

    The alchemist shakes her head. I don¡¯t need a mental spell to know she¡¯s cutting her old student off and abandoning him to his fate. How practical. And far more cold than I expected from the overtly friendly intellectual. ¡°I know you call her a flower but I¡¯m beginning to think it¡¯s more than a pet name.¡±

    ¡°Another time. They¡¯re starting.¡± I wave for them to quiet as Earl begins to play. The violin is usually reserved for slow and somber melodies, but he starts with a jaunty tune, the notes practically skipping as he plays them. Talia¡¯s song matches his tone. Singing a sea shanty of all things. One that seems to be popular as all the Graywatch natives sing along enthusiastically, including Arthur. To my surprise, Alyssa¡¯s crusty hunter friend joins in as well, showing his first smile of the night as he raises a glass.

    Talia¡¯s song and the jubilant atmosphere conjures images of sparkling waters and night skies full of stars. No, wait. Those images I¡¯m imagining are real.

    Gasps and mutterings of awe fill the room as the floor shifts to resemble the sun shining down on a body of water and the ceiling becomes dark as twilight, interspersed with pinpricks of light. Above Talia¡¯s head, Rolly pops into existence with a flash of light, bobbing in time with the music.

    When the song ends, Geneva climbs onto the stage with the strikingly red instrument Earl brought back from his trip to the market. It reminds somewhat of a lute, but with a longer neck and a thinner body. I don¡¯t expect anything less than mastery from my succubus but it¡¯s still a little shocking to hear her play.

    In my experience, string instruments are played in two ways, slow and sad or as a happy ditty. Geneva plucks the strings sensually, deliberately rather than slowly. And when Talia sings in a soft but husky tone, the combination sends shivers down my spine.

    Oh, wait. That¡¯s Alana¡¯s fingers trailing my back as she leans against me, quietly announcing her return. I move with her as she sways to the music, her other hand going around my waist as she lays her head on my shoulder. Another perfect moment, made better by her fingers tugging at the waist of my pants.

    I¡¯m about to suggest we slip away when the door is thrown open. I don¡¯t think much of it, as there are a few people with invitations that haven¡¯t shown, but my nonchalance is blown away as I take in the group of three following behind Nomad; an unmistakable succubus despite her human guise, my childhood tormentor, and an exhausted young woman with a passing resemblance to me.

    What in the Abyss is my cousin doing here?!

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-37

    I lower Bell to the floor and subtly squeeze Alana¡¯s hand before moving toward the door. My latest guests look like they rode straight from Quest without stopping to sleep or take a bath. I¡¯m not used to such a rumpled appearance from Jac. She¡¯s always so attentive to her looks. And her manners. It¡¯s really saying something that she doesn¡¯t even muster a smile as I approach.

    Neither does Junior but I don¡¯t expect anything from him. His expression says he doesn¡¯t know quite what to make of me. He knows that the succubi that have served his family for generations all practically worship me but I¡¯m sure, even after a year to think on it, that he can¡¯t fathom why.

    I¡¯d bet every crown I have that he hasn¡¯t even made the first connection, that I¡¯ve contracted a stronger succbus than his father¡¯s virtue, Belolial. Not the pathetic Lou he bullied all his life, daughter of the Tomes that his family had bullied for generations. There¡¯s no way I could be a better summoner than any Grimoire. It must be some trick.

    Which, to be fair, is true. There¡¯s a trick. I just also happen to be a better summoner.

    Fen is definitely happy to see me. With the presence of succubi being banned throughout the kingdom, she¡¯s chosen to be subtle, taking on the guise of a fair-skinned woman with blond hair that could be mistaken for anyone in the capital. As I approach, that coloring changes, her skin becoming a bright scarlet while her hair darkens to the color of dried blood. A whip-like tail with a spade tip slides from underneath her dress and slowly waves through the air. There is a very clear invitation in her wide smile, but I ignore it in favor of family.

    ¡°Hey, Jac.¡±

    ¡°Lou,¡± my cousin says. She finally musters up a smile, though its thin and strained. Her eyes flick around the room, mostly at the dozen or so people still engrossed in the music. ¡°Looks like I¡¯m interrupting something.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re fine.¡± I look past her to Junior. ¡°Hey.¡±

    He grimaces before offering back a tired, ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure there¡¯s an interesting reason for the three of you appearing on my doorstep together, in the middle of the night, without any warning, but I only have one question. Is it bad news?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± the succubus says when the other two hesitate.

    ¡°Figured. You don¡¯t look like that when you¡¯re delivering good news. Follow-up question. Is it time-sensitive? And by that, I¡¯m asking if my house is going to burn down and ruin my party if I don¡¯t deal with this right now?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± the succubus answers, tail whipping faster.

    ¡°Good. Then don¡¯t tell me.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    I¡¯m not surprised by Bell¡¯s sudden appearance but the two humans with their dull senses and lack of experience with a servant that uses it ability to read surface thoughts to anticipate my desires certainly are. I chuckle at the way they jump, grabbing the two spicy smelling drinks off the silver tray she¡¯s carrying. I hold them out, jostling them when both Jac and Junior hesitate. ¡°They smell funny, but they¡¯ll perk you up. Trust me.¡±

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    ¡°¡­guess you wouldn¡¯t try to poison me,¡± Jac grumbles while taking the glass.

    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± Junior sighs, Fen taking his glass and handing it to him.

    ¡°Whew!¡± Jac exclaims after knocking back her drink, treating it like medicine. Bet that kicked her in the heart. In fact, maybe I should be worried. Her eyes are a little too wide and her fingers are twitching. ¡°Sainted tits, what was that?¡±

    ¡°You curse now?¡± I ask, amazed.

    ¡°Too many nights drinking with commoners. Lou, answer me. I feel great but too great. Is this going to kill me or knock me out for a week?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re perfectly fine. No side effects. The high will end and you might pass out for a day or two, but it¡¯ll be the best sleep of your life.¡± Behind her, Junior slowly sips his own drink after hearing my reassurance. ¡°For now, join the party. Bell can show you to my room where you can freshen up. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s something in your size around here. Junior¡­¡± My lips twist in distaste as I think about him in my bath. ¡°You can hose down in the back.¡±

    ¡°Good to see you haven¡¯t changed Lou,¡± he says while shaking his head. ¡°And when did you contract an incompetent imp? And why? The mistake is right there in the name.¡±

    Haha, his ignorance always amuses me. ¡°Go, go. Get cleaned and make merry. Fen, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve already mind-melded with my succubi so you should be able to take care of them. Mind the guests.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, Lou.¡±

    I shoo them off with a smile that fades once they reach the stairs. Because there¡¯s no need to pretend without witnesses. If they¡¯re here, then something isn¡¯t just wrong. It¡¯s very, very wrong. Much worse than me being a wanted woman. Something so wrong that Fen, with all her otherworldly knowledge and power, cannot fix it. Something she is dreading telling me or she would have insisted.

    Have to admit, I¡¯m not eager to hear whatever the problem is. I¡¯ve had nothing but problems lately. But that¡¯s the point of tonight. No problems can touch me in my comfortable ball of denial, at least for a few hours.

    I force down my worries as I return to Alana. ¡°I don¡¯t know those friends,¡± she mutters, still moving with the music.

    ¡°None of them are friends,¡± I correct with a little chuckle as I wrap my arms around her waist. ¡°One¡¯s family, another¡¯s a pet, and the red-headed gorilla is my childhood tormentor turned whipping boy.¡±

    Her brows furrow as she debates which part of that sentence to tackle first. To my surprise, her expression eases with a sigh and her hands move to cover mine. ¡°More the merrier, I guess.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re really in the mood.¡±

    ¡°Probably because all I care about right now is having you in me.¡±

    I gape at her, freezing. Her response is to subtly, but unmistakably, push her hips into me. Saints, when did she get so bold? ¡°How much have you had to drink?¡±

    ¡°Of you? Not enough.¡± I see the corner of her lips turn up as I groan into her ear. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m saying and will probably bury myself in the garden to avoid looking anyone in the eye tomorrow. Right now, I¡¯m just really hot, and I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because I¡¯m too drunk or too horny, or which one is making my mouth run. Ancestors. Where¡¯s my sister?¡±

    I blink, thoughts stalling as I try to follow the rapid change of subject. ¡°Uh, didn¡¯t she say she wanted to put down Allen before she joined the party?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Someone should get her. This is exactly the kind of thing she wants to leave the north for and Talia can¡¯t sing all night.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Ge¡ªno. When she comes back from maiming that idiot, we can ask Kierra to see about it.¡± If the little boy is still awake, I would prefer she put him down rather than Geneva. The succubus herself spoke against using the mental affinity on children, especially infants, but that¡¯s no hard boundary she won¡¯t cross.

    Talia¡¯s warning reminded me that while I understand the kind of creatures succubi are, I shouldn¡¯t assume I know all there is to know about the individual members of their race. They are more than just balls of logic and ambition, logically pursuing their ambitions. As capable as they are, they are still mortal. They can fail like the rest of us.

    They can overestimate themselves and have been plotting against their summoners for generations. Just because the most logical thing is for them to serve me and reap the benefits, doesn¡¯t mean that¡¯s what they¡¯ll do. Not if Geneva thinks she can outwit me, which, admittedly, she has plenty of reason to think so.

    ¡°In the meantime¡­¡± I lace our fingers together and pull her with me, toward the kitchen. ¡°Let¡¯s get you taken care of, sweetie.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-38 (Jac)

    If Jac had to describe the last few weeks with one word, she would call them interesting. It would be tempting to call them horrible but that would be an unfair summation that only applied to her time in the dungeons of the palace. She still had nightmares about being trapped in a cold, disgusting cell and of a man made of darkness holding her down while smoky fingers flowing through her ears to tickle her brain. She hated those dreams.

    Distance from the capital had, thankfully, helped. She wasn¡¯t willing to let the succubus she¡¯d traveled with anywhere near her mind, knowing far too much and far too little about the elementals. She had allowed the creature to spoil her during their journey to Quest to see her cousin. Jac had no idea why Fen thought so highly of her, or more specifically thought so highly of Lou that the admiration spilled over into the creature¡¯s treatment of her family, but Jac wouldn¡¯t refuse a profoundly capable creature fawning over her.

    It was almost shameful how much attention Fen showered her with, given that she paid no attention to her summoner. Every day, the succubus foraged and hunted to prepare delicious meals. Jac was given a bench to sleep on inside the carriage with most of the blankets and several pillows, ensuring she was comfortably warm despite the winter chill. Whenever possible, they stopped for her to bathe, Fen going as far as to heat the water and provide soaps.

    Jac wasn¡¯t a fan of traveling but the lavish attention was enough to make the journey enjoyable. For her. Junior didn¡¯t enjoy the trip along the kingdom¡¯s roads nearly as much. Their treatment couldn¡¯t be more different.

    He slept outside, shivering next to a fire until he eventually fell asleep. He was forced to drive the carriage while Jac and Fen conversed in the carriage. During meals, he had to wait until both women had eaten their fill before he was allowed the leftovers, often cooled by then.

    The succubus treated Junior like a dog she barely tolerated, which flew in the face of everything Jac knew about the Grimoires and their relationships with their elementals. It was curious but Jac kept her questions to herself. The answers seemed like the kind of knowledge that could get her in trouble and the saints knew she had enough of that.

    They said time flew when having a good time. The saying held true. Before Jac knew it, they arrived at Quest. She rode through the Myriad Zone with slack-jawed awe and ascended to the Grand Hall with a pounding heart. Both places certainly deserved their reputation. Riding through the Grand Market, with its many distinctive buildings with their full glass fronts and displays lit up by magical lights, Jac realized she had stepped into a very different world. She struggled to place her gloomy and sarcastic cousin amongst the fantastic sights, but Fen confidently directed Junior across the island to Lou¡¯s supposed home.

    That was another surprise. Jac had heard stories of the Grand Hall. The living situation of acolytes was no mystery. The young adults, or not-quite-adults, were made to live together in large buildings reminiscent of knight orders. Those with more gold could afford better accommodations, but they were all subjected to a single room in a dorm. Not the lavish estate Fen directed them to.

    Incredibly, Lou¡¯s home was no less fantastical than the Grand Market and the Myriad Zone. The amazing garden was lit by standing torches that gave off a rainbow-array of light, a stark contrast to the beastly shadows that seemed to jump and dash between the many hedges. The house itself glowed with the same light and cheerful music spilled from it, Jac¡¯s fingers unconsciously tapping along with the rhythm.

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    It was obvious they had come during some kind of celebration. At least, Jac hoped it was a celebration and not a regular state of affairs. It was far too extravagant. If she had wealth, she¡¯d flaunt it too, but if the cost of maintaining the decorations was proportional to how good they looked, Lou would have to pour rivers of gold t them and that was downright wasteful.

    Their carriage came to a stop before the doors. Fen stepped out and helped Jac down, taking her hand like a gentleman. Opposite of their elegant visage, Junior practically threw himself off the driver¡¯s bench, grumbling as he massaged his backside. She felt for him, as spending hours sitting on hard wood with only the barest cushioning had to be an ordeal. Her attention quickly shifted away from her traveling companion¡¯s bruised ass to the servant approaching them.

    He was¡­an interesting character. Well-trained, given his excellent posture, his swift response, and his impeccable bow. He was well-groomed, with his dark purple jacket, the golden buttons polished to a shine, dark pants, and polished shoes but she hesitated to call him handsome. He was far too pale and the bags under his eyes were far too dark. And his eyes themselves. They were unnerving, two pools of ink devoid of any life or joy.

    ¡°You must be Nomad,¡± Fen greeted, unperturbed by the gloomy-looking man. ¡°Jac, this is one of Lou¡¯s servants. A very special servant.¡±

    ¡°Your many limbs shall not touch the untouchable.¡±

    The succubus chuckled. ¡°Give us time, pet.¡±

    Jac looked between the two of them, but their expressions didn¡¯t provide any insight into their conversation. She cleared her throat, drawing the dark gaze to herself. ¡°Good to meet you.¡±

    The servant stared at her long enough for her to feel uncomfortable before sighing deeply. ¡°The fire cannot burn without the spark. Fear not the flames, for they can be conquered through the elements. But it is not fire, but the core of the world, burning eternal, the heat that can consume all things. Beware the spark, the unconscious end of what is known.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡±

    ¡°I will show you inside.¡±

    Jac had reservations about following the questionably sane servant, but the confidence of Fen, the resignation of Junior, and the music lured her inside. The interior of the estate was just as grand as the exterior. A small crowd was gathered before a small stage at one side of the room, swaying to the slow music. She didn¡¯t have the time to pick out many details before spotting her cousin weaving through the bodies, heading straight toward them.

    A quick conversation and a suspicious drink later, she was standing in a bedroom she would kill someone for and feeling as if someone had poured liquid lightning in her stomach. She needed to move. To jump and dance and maybe sprint around the estate a couple of times. But before that, she needed a bath and a change of clothes.

    Fen offered to join her. An offer Jac would normally never accept but she didn¡¯t trust her ability to hold a brush or a cloth with her twitching fingers. She decided to revise her stance on succubi joining her in future baths after Fen washed her hair. Those slim fingers massaging her scalp were magic.

    As Lou promised, there was something in her size lying around. Fen left the bathroom early, leaving her to dry off. By the time Jac re-entered the bedroom, several dresses, shirts, and pants were laid out on the bed. She was spoiled for choice.

    Given there was a party going on downstairs, she went for a more ostentatious option. A cream-colored dress with a thin, white underskirt and a deep neckline that showed a bit of skin. Nothing scandalous but much more daring than her usual. A decision motivated both by her evolving definition of proper conduct for an ambitious young lady and because of the dress¡¯ shorter sleeves. Parties tended to get hot.

    By the time she returned downstairs, she was feeling rejuvenated. Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for her cousin, but Lou was nowhere to be found. That still left plenty to see. Her cousin knew an eclectic group of people. She couldn¡¯t imagine any of them as serious magical scholars. Especially the group wearing far too much leather. She couldn¡¯t look at them too long. Men had no right wearing pants that tight and looking at the exposed stomachs of the ladies felt inappropriate.

    Her saving grace came in the form of a striking green elf, smiling faintly as she stepped into the room from a discreet hall. Jac was relieved to see a familiar face and hurried across the room, calling out to her, ¡°Kierra!¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-39-Jac

    ¡°Oh? This is surprising.¡±

    Jac was relieved that Kierra seemed happy to see her. Or, at least not upset. She was as surprised as anyone else when Lou introduced her foreign bride to the family and doubt she made the best impression. Her attitude wasn¡¯t deplorable by any means but she wouldn¡¯t blame the elf for being uncomfortable around her.

    Thankfully, Kierra had a more forgiving heart than Jac¡¯s father. She hadn¡¯t changed in the year Jac hadn¡¯t seen her. Her skin was still green, her long hair was still a vibrant silver, and her eyes were still the same strange mix of green and gold that changed depending on the light. She seemed more relaxed than when she had strutted around Jac¡¯s home like she owned it. Probably because Jackal wasn¡¯t around to subtly prod her for her secrets and goad her into cooperating with gold-hungry merchants.

    Jac didn¡¯t know what gesture was appropriate for meeting her cousin-in-law. The elf didn¡¯t seem the type to hug and a handshake felt too distant. Thankfully, Kierra didn¡¯t have the same hesitation, plowing forward past the awkward moment. ¡°What are you doing here, little cousin? I thought you were preparing to sail across the seas with the golden family.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­things happened.¡± When Jac was first pulled from the dungeon, she was beyond angry and ready to watch the capital burn. Weeks of quiet travel and good food had mellowed her temper, giving her the clarity she needed to truly comprehend the consequences of her actions, past and future. She still planned to tattle to Lou. The question was how she would phrase her complaints. And who in particular she aimed Lou¡¯s ire at.

    At first, she thought she was angry at the king. He was the highest authority in the kingdom. It was his law that had sparked the conflict with the summoners. His orders that had her thrown into the dungeon and seen her mentally violated by a member of the interrogators. It wouldn¡¯t be an exaggeration to say that the king was the source of all her problems.

    She wanted him to pay but whatever tragedy befell the crown would affect the kingdom five times over. That wasn¡¯t something she wanted and especially wasn¡¯t something she needed to be responsible for.

    There was a second target of her anger she wouldn¡¯t feel nearly as guilty turning Lou against and wouldn¡¯t have a fraction of the fallout. Her father, Javarius ¡°Jackal¡± Tome. The one who put in motion her torture by running to the king to give evidence against his own brother and the summoning community. The one who had turned his head when she told him about the travesties visited upon her. The one who had sided with the crown over his own blood.

    She wanted him to pay, badly. Better, she knew Lou would be much more willing to go after him. Her cousin had never liked her father. Once Jac told Lou that he had betrayed both their family and their family¡¯s art, there would be a reckoning.

    She was much less confident in getting revenge on the interrogator that had so grievously taken advantage of her and his affinity. For the life of her, she couldn¡¯t describe the man and he hadn¡¯t been accommodating enough to give his name. She couldn¡¯t pick her offender out of the interrogators. Revenge would require the king giving her the name of her assailant¡­if he knew it.

    Most times, she didn¡¯t request a particular servant to do a menial job and she had no idea that was how the king thought of her. A minor nuisance he didn¡¯t have the grace to personally confront before shipping her out of the capital. She wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he had no idea who had carried out his dirty work.

    Another person who might know the name of the offender was the head interrogator, a target only slightly less daunting than the king. King Sebastian did not have personal power, but the palace grounds housed the royal knights, the strongest fighters in the kingdom. However, if an attacker could slip past said defenders, it would be relatively simple to take out the king himself.

    The leader of the kingdom¡¯s mental casters was an accomplished caster in his own right. The interrogators were no royal knights, but they were an elite group that could decimate a small army in the right circumstances. Worse, their magic was the hardest kind to defend against. A sturdy shield could stop a sword or arrow. It could even work fairly well against most basic spells. It would do absolutely nothing against mana intrusion.

    Jac didn¡¯t know any spells that could stop it either. The only defense was very expensive artifacts created from incredibly rare materials. The few mental affinity stones the kingdom had were relics from before the Great War and couldn¡¯t be bought with gold. Attacks that couldn¡¯t be defended against were almost as scary as overwhelming power.

    Lou was strong. Her wife was stronger. But whether they stood a chance or not, Jac didn¡¯t feel right winding her cousin up and possibly sending her to her death to satisfy her own grudges. She had decided that she would present the facts as neutrally as possible, besides shortchanging her father, and let events take their natural course. Her revenge would be not talking Lou down if she got her own ideas. Surely, the saints could forgive her that much.

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    But that was for tomorrow. Lou was throwing a party tonight and she was not so crass as to interrupt a celebration. ¡°Recent events convinced me I needed a vacation and Lou is the only person I know with a home outside the capital worth visiting. Seems I have good timing.¡±

    ¡°Perfect timing. Had you come tomorrow night, you would have missed all the festivities.¡±

    Jac tried not to react to the elf¡¯s unnervingly wide smile. It said she didn¡¯t understand everything the woman had said but she decided not to pursue it. ¡°So? What are we celebrating?¡±

    ¡°Lou¡¯s criminal status.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    Kierra chuckled. ¡°We are not to speak of it. Come.¡± A strong hand grabbed Jac¡¯s shoulder and guided her across the room. ¡°There is someone you must meet.¡±

    It was a good thing Jac had no trouble meeting new people because Kierra didn¡¯t give her a chance to protest as she was marched up to the stage. Jac hadn¡¯t given the performing musicians much thought, as they were usually irrelevant, but given that she was about to be introduced to them, she looked at them more closely.

    One of them was a young boy wearing the same dark purple jacket and dark pants as the strange servant that had greeted her. A bit young but it wasn¡¯t unusual for young servants to apprentice to more experienced workers. The boy was clearly talented from the music she¡¯d heard. So much so that she was a little concerned that Lou was doing the Hall and the kingdom a disservice by keeping him to herself. The boy cut a confident figure, the picture of patience as he waited with his instrument at the ready.

    On the opposite side of the stage was Lou¡¯s thrall. Geo, she thought the creature¡¯s name was. It wasn¡¯t a surprise that the succubus knew how to play an instrument. It would be easier to list things that the creatures couldn¡¯t do than the other way around. The elemental appeared to be in good health, for as much as that counted for.

    The star of the small group was the woman that stood center-stage. She was a beauty but an unusual one. Her complexion was pale even by the capital¡¯s standards but rather than the sickly pallor of the doorman, her skin was more like milk or cream. Her hair was darker than black, a waterfall of ink pinned with a delicate butterfly ornament, the thin wings gleaming under the bright lights. Her white and silver robe was simple but elegant, an effect achieved in no small part by the woman¡¯s natural grace. Just the way she held herself was worthy of an artist¡¯s brush. If the woman wasn¡¯t a noble, Jac would eat her shoes. No one was simply born with that poise.

    Her eyes opened as they approached and Jac gasped at the strange sight. They were inversed, the whites completely black and the pupils were as white as a cloud. It was unnerving and not just visually. Jac felt like the strange gaze could see right through her.

    ¡°Little cousin, this is Umphrieltalia. Flower, this is a member of Lou¡¯s family that she likes, Jacquellin Tome.¡±

    The woman¡¯s demeanor changed. Her expression remained the same but the air around her shifted. Became¡­warmer. The woman closed her eyes again as her lips turned up in a faint smile. ¡°A pleasure to meet you Jacquellin.¡±

    ¡°Just Jac is fine.¡±

    ¡°Lou calls me Talia. You may also if it makes you more comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Ah, thanks.¡± She glanced at the grinning elf beside her. ¡°What exactly is your relationship with my cousin?¡± It had to be interesting if Kierra was so insistent they meet.

    ¡°I am the flower, but a more understood designation would be Lou and Kierra¡¯s mistress.¡±

    Jac gaped in incomprehension. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°A mistress, Jac,¡± Kierra purred. ¡°Our pampered little lover.¡± The elf raised a hand and Talia bent over, letting the long green fingers brush her cheek with the obedience of a well-trained hound. ¡°She is family through vow.¡±

    ¡°Er¡­¡± Jac wasn¡¯t naive enough to be scandalized by the thought of a mistress but Talia was not what she envisioned when she pictured that word. She wasn¡¯t a young beauty usurping an older man¡¯s attentions under his wife¡¯s notice or a painted vixen with both guile and bold sensuality. Talia was beautiful but too quiet to be a seductress. Her solemn expression and dignified air gave the impression of a scholar or etiquette teacher.

    What was such a woman doing with Lou? Kierra, she could understand. Was that it? Had Kierra taken a second lover? Lou being Lou, Jac was sure she not only accepted the situation, but welcomed it with open arms.

    The situation framed with logic she could understand, Jac¡¯s confusion faded and her curiosity rose. ¡°So, you¡¯re a singer?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Talia said and Jac had to admit, inwardly and never aloud, that the strange woman had an amazing voice that she could listen to all day. ¡°I am currently unemployed.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°Do not let my flower¡¯s words fool you,¡± Kierra said while shaking a finger at Talia. ¡°She gave up quite the position to spend more time at the house. You are looking at the previous dorm mother for the noble cubs attending the Hall and the heir of your king¡¯s head interrogator.¡±

    ¡°A position I am no longer interested in,¡± Talia said.

    ¡°But are the most qualified for.¡±

    ¡°Wait. You¡¯re an interrogator?¡± Jac asked, voice sharp.

    ¡°I have taken the vows and received the training, but I have not and have no intention of serving the crown.¡±

    ¡°¡­then I¡¯d like to ask for your help. I¡ª"

    A green hand covered her mouth and hot breath tickled her ear as Kierra bowed her head beside her. ¡°Not now, little cousin,¡± the elf whispered. ¡°You have vengeful eyes and that is tomorrow¡¯s business. Tonight, there can only be happiness and revelry.¡±

    Jac felt a spike of annoyance, but she buried it. The thought of Talia retrieving the identity of her assailant from her mind had sparked her simmering anger, but she had already spent days with no hope. Waiting a few hours for a chance at justice was no struggle. She nodded and the hand left her mouth. She glared at her cousin-in-law, who smiled at her, unrepentant. ¡°If I¡¯m going to forget it, I¡¯m going to need something to drink. And a lot of it.¡±

    ¡°That can be arranged.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-40

    The kitchen is a secret trove of delights. It¡¯s where we keep the barrels and crates delivered by Howie, the servants watering them down before taking them out to the drinks table. Snacks and desserts cover the counters, ready to go out at a moment¡¯s notice, filling the air with savory smells. I¡¯m tempted to grab a little sandwich or cookie, but Alana only has eyes for me.

    I led her toward the kitchen but once there are no gazes on us, Alana is the one dragging me forward. Her eyes are wide and desperate as I let her shove me against some tall cupboards. I duck, aiming for her lips but she dodges me, pulling my pants and underwear down as she drops to her knees.

    After several minutes of inattention, my gift is soft but hasn¡¯t retracted. It takes barely any time of Alana¡¯s lips wrapped around me before I¡¯m at full mast. One hand gently caresses her hair while the other scrambles for something to hold onto to, eventually gripping the side of the cupboard I¡¯m leaning against.

    It¡¯s another perfect moment; Talia¡¯s beautiful voice muffled by the walls between us mixing with my low moans and the wet sounds of Alana¡¯s efforts, the scent of sex mixing with that of good food, and the feel of her calloused palms holding and tracing my thighs. I do my best to engrave the moment in my memory but it¡¯s a little difficult to focus as my thirsty girl brings me to a shuddering climax. She¡¯s not hesitant at all to take what she wants, her nose touching my groin as she takes me down her throat, making sure not a single drop of my release escapes her. When my gift is done twitching, her lips retreat, tongue trailing along my length and circling the sensitive tip before she goes back to milking me with her mouth.

    My prime form is amazing but it¡¯s not without its faults. I¡¯m built for sexual stamina but it¡¯s also a curse. This body that can go for hours and hours needs constant, overwhelming stimulation to be satisfied in the slightest. That¡¯s what a tumble in the sheets with Kierra is. Fast, hard, and intense. The two of us fuck like animals in heat, rutting until we both collapse with complete exhaustion.

    Being with Alana is nothing like that. It¡¯s soft and sweet. Almost torturous with my physique. I used to be concerned that I¡¯d lose myself to the pleasure and be too rough with her while seeking satisfaction but I¡¯m not half the beast the rumors circulating the Grand Hall paint me as.

    Forget being too rough with her. One look at those big, blue eyes staring up at me and I¡¯m a puddle, more than willing to suffer the sweet torture. Even as I become more desperate, I whisper sweet nothings and soft encouragements.

    She kisses my gift once she¡¯s had her fill and rises to kiss me. I groan, tasting myself on her tongue. She swallows my yelp of surprise as she climbs on me, wrapping her legs around my waist. I oblige the wordless request she makes by rubbing herself against my gift, reaching a hand under her dress and tearing away her underwear.

    She gasps as I turn us around, hands going to her waist. Her legs loosen their lock as I raise her up, a soft whine escaping her as I lower her onto my gift. One hand grabs my shoulder while the other grabs my neck, nails pressing against my skin. I recognize her tell and pause, giving her a curious look. She lovingly kisses my face before bucking on my gift, pleasuring herself. Ah, so she wants to set the pace. She really is a greedy girl, but I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.

    One of my hands supports her while the other fondles her chest, my lips kissing along neck and collarbone while I meet her bouncing hips with short thrusts. For me, holding her warm body against me, despite the barrier of her dress, while I¡¯m deep inside her is a small, sustained pleasure. Alana is a lot more affected. It only takes minutes before her face is buried against my neck and I feel the slight pressure of her harmless bite as she muffles her screams against my skin.

    ¡°More?¡± I whisper once her shaking stops. She subtly shakes her head but makes no attempt to get down. Saying she wants more but needs a break first. A request I happily oblige. ¡°Alana~¡±

    ¡°Mm?¡±

    ¡°I love you~¡±

    ¡°Wuv you,¡± she slurs adorably, drunk off me.

    I nuzzle and kiss her, enjoying the little affections while she recovers. I¡¯m so absorbed, I don¡¯t notice there¡¯s company until they noisily enter the kitchen from the second entrance.

    I recognize the pair in the lead. The first is my gloomy but trustworthy servant, Nomad, looking no more cheerful than usual despite the celebrations. Beside him is Cloud, dressed for the festivities. And I do mean dressed.

    Usually, she only wears sleeveless black shirts and tasteless brown skirts but tonight, she¡¯s wearing a pristine white dress shirt and fitted pants that look far too tight to be anything but painted on. Her dark hair is braided down her back, showing off the surprisingly white bone earrings in both her ears and the large tooth hanging around her neck on brown string. She¡¯s always been a rugged beauty but having cleaned up, it¡¯s more of a rough charm.

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    Struggling a little to get in behind them are obvious friends of Cloud. It¡¯s the black rings around their necks that give them away, a tattoo common to the members of the Temple. I know from experience that they tend to be scruffy in appearance, but they¡¯ve all cleaned up for the occasion. I¡¯d have called them civilized if they weren¡¯t carrying a huge dead pig between them. Four strangers that catch me with my pants down, literally.

    Nomad¡¯s expression doesn¡¯t so much as twitch taking us in, but Cloud¡¯s dark lips turn up in a sly smile. ¡°We seem to have come at the wrong time, honored sister,¡± she practically purrs, gaze focused my ass. ¡°Or maybe the perfect time.¡±

    Alana is as stiff as wood in my arms, whimpering softly. The embarrassment of the moment must be choking her. I feel bad about it, really. I¡¯m the one with the amazing hearing. I should have heard them coming before they got anywhere close to the door. In my defense, I was far too absorbed in Alana to care about what was going on around me. Didn¡¯t even notice the music had stopped, Talia likely taking a break. It would have taken a titan to catch my attention.

    That isn¡¯t going to make Alana feel better though so I keep it to myself as I pull out of her and set her on her shaky legs, smoothing down her dress. Doing what I can to preserve her dignity. It would be much better if she feigned nonchalance, like me, but my poor future knight can only hide her flushed face against my shoulder. ¡°Glad you could make it, Cloud,¡± I say while maneuvering her behind me, hiding her from the many curious gazes. ¡°Who¡¯s the group?¡±

    She pouts as I pull my pants up. ¡°A few friends eager to meet you. It is customary to bring food to a celebration. We got a bit¡­excited.¡±

    ¡°I can see that.¡± Saints, the damn hog is bigger than me. ¡°What am I supposed to do with that?¡±

    ¡°Not you, sister. Your pet.¡± She licks her lips. ¡°I am dying to see what she can do with it.¡±

    ¡°Can we put this down?¡± one of her friends, a rather petite girl, whines, drawing my eyes to her.

    ¡­she¡¯s got a tail. A big, bushy one, with two fuzzy ears jutting out of her brown hair to match. It¡¯s¡­very, very strange¡­but also kind of cute.

    Reminds me of a fox. Foxes are cute. Girls are cute. It makes sense that mixing the two, in moderation, makes for more cuteness. I don¡¯t know how I¡¯d feel if she had whiskers and a muzzle but as it is, I have mixed urges to grope her modest chest and scritch her behind the ears. If this is what Cloud is after, I¡¯m much less apprehensive about her inevitable changes.

    The whiner isn¡¯t the only one with furry, and not so furry, additions. One girl has a pink mousy tail, another has a white horn sprouting from her forehead, and the lone male in the group has scales on his cheeks. They¡¯ve all fully embraced the Temple¡¯s ways, huh.

    ¡°Just set it down where there¡¯s space,¡± I say, vaguely gesturing to the floor. The group obliges, all of them relieved to be free of the enormous burden. Fox-Ears spies the desserts on the table and reaches for them, but Mouse-Tail slaps her hand away with her tail, the appendage snapping out like a whip. Fox-Ears yelps, almost as adorable as Alana when she¡¯s spooked, and rubs her wrist.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I tell her. ¡°There¡¯s plenty out there.¡±

    Fox-Ears smiles, flashing two sharp teeth. Saints, those look dangerous¡­for ordinary people. Might tickle if she bites down with everything she¡¯s got. ¡°Great! Let¡¯s go!¡±

    Horn lightly smacks her on the back of her head. ¡°We may walk the path of the brethren but we shall not become beasts,¡± the largest of the group says in a deep, sultry voice. She moves ahead of the others and bows before me, one hand forming a fist and the other clasping it. ¡°We give thanks to you for welcoming us into your home. Let bonds of joy strengthen the bonds of trust between the lady of men and the Temple.¡±

    Oof. Been a while since I¡¯ve heard such deep Temple jargon. ¡°Glad to have you here. Quick introductions. I¡¯m Lou. Behind me is Alana but she can¡¯t meet anyone¡¯s eyes right now.¡± A soft fist to my back makes me chuckle.

    ¡°Stampede That Shakes The Mountain.¡±

    ¡°¡­please tell me you shorten that.¡±

    She smiles a big white smile. ¡°Shake.¡±

    I sigh in relief. ¡°Shake. Alright.¡± I take in the way the others are hanging back, not interfering in our conversation. Looks like I¡¯ve found the leader of this little group. What¡¯s interesting is that Cloud also seems to be following the large woman¡¯s lead. ¡°I¡¯d shake your hand but¡­¡± Well, it¡¯s been places.

    To my shock, Shake grabs my hand and shakes it, pumping it strongly. Then she pauses and raises it, nostrils noticeably flaring wide as she sniffs. ¡°The love between you and your mate is¡­enticing.¡± She sniffs again. ¡°And fertile? Your tool is fully functioning. How surprising.¡±

    I just gape at her, stunned by her audacity. Though I shouldn¡¯t be. The Temple worships manabeasts and communes with them by fighting them barehanded. They¡¯re all a special kind of insane.

    Eventually, I recover enough to take my hand back, surprising the big woman again as I easily escape her grip. ¡°Food. Drink. Inside.¡±

    ¡°Peace is easiest found at watering holes. We shall make ourselves comfortable.¡± Shake gestures to the others and they move past, all of them giving me indecipherable looks. Except Cloud. I know her well enough that I have no trouble deciphering her expression. Saints.

    ¡°I shall return to my duties,¡± Nomad proclaims, bowing briefly before escaping. Leaving me and Alana alone.

    She finally steps from behind me. I give her time to collect her thoughts but all she manages is a succinct, ¡°Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    Alana marches over to the counter holding the drinks and grabs an unopened bottle of Herbanacle. I don¡¯t even bother trying to stop her as she hastily cracks it open and takes three long gulps of the shroom juice. She stomps back over to me and extends the bottle. The look in her eyes is demanding so I obediently raise it to my lips and take a long drink.

    Alana nods in satisfaction. ¡°Problems have to wait till tomorrow, right?¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Good, because I can¡¯t deal with any of this right now.¡± She takes another swig of the shroom juice before grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me into a kiss. I¡¯m just getting into it when she pulls away. ¡°We should get back to the party. That group is bound to stir things up.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-41

    Alana munches down on a few of the small ¡°finger¡± sandwiches on the counter and takes a few more pulls from her bottle before she¡¯s willing to face the party. As we exit, Gajin enters the room carrying three large drums under his arms. Earl brings him a stool as he climbs onto the stage and sets up his instruments. I smile as I hear the eccentric gardener apologizing to the others for being late because his babies were riled up, the tours having disturbed the incredibly delicate balance of the garden. We¡¯re going to be fighting against the entire city soon, maybe the kingdom, but his only concern is for his plants. It¡¯s both refreshing and comforting.

    The group from the Temple have certainly made the room livelier. Especially Fox-Ears. I don¡¯t know if she sucked down a few drinks while we were taking our break or is an excitable person, but I can hear her laughter over all the other chatter in the room. The soft swaying of her bushy tail and twitching of her ears are like honey to flies, causing the young men of the room to orbit around her.

    Poor William. He can¡¯t know how weird he looks as he stares at her with an uncomfortable intensity, practically drooling on himself. Then there¡¯s the brothers. Gabriel is more focused on his drink as he stands at his brother¡¯s shoulder, but Michael is blushing furiously as he stands close to the fox-girl. It¡¯s cute. Not him, but the awakening of a young libido. Reminds me of my own longing gazes in the past.

    One of Arthur¡¯s guests, a lean young man with scruffy blond hair but a well-groomed beard, is also a captive of the fox-girl¡¯s charm, but surprisingly, the pirate son with the most egregious libido I¡¯ve ever seen is nowhere near her. He¡¯s standing near the stage¡­talking to Jac.

    They aren¡¯t alone. Kierra is there and as I scrutinize them, Cynthia weaves through the crowd to join the conversation. Yet all my mind can see is the two of them talking, my cousin energetically making points with dancing hands. Arthur is a very different person these days, but a dog doesn¡¯t change its tail. The thought of them together¡­ugh. Ugh.

    From the corner of my eye, I see Junior sulkily slipping back into the room, noticeably damp and wearing a different set of clothes, but I ignore him, looping my arm with Alana¡¯s as I stalk across the room. Arthur feels my intentions before I am anywhere near him. He freezes and his eyes sweep the room, quickly finding my own.

    His exaggerated grimace is almost enough to make me laugh and once I¡¯m close enough for Jac to notice me, he takes a deliberate step away from her while she isn¡¯t paying attention.

    ¡°You clean up nice as always, cousin,¡± I say.

    ¡°Not as nice as you.¡± She squints as she looks at me. Heh, is she finally noticing my changes? Must have been more tired than I thought. ¡°You¡¯re looking very¡­purple.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s your wife¡¯s touch.¡±

    ¡°She helped.¡± I turn to look at Arthur, who looks distinctly uncomfortable. ¡°I see you¡¯ve been socializing.¡± The last word is bitten off, the threat impossible to miss. The pirate son scowls at the accusation and decisively shakes his head in the negative¡­but I don¡¯t trust it.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding, captain,¡± he hisses in a voice softer than a whisper, aware of my incredible hearing. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s¡­lovely but the first time we get into an argument, you¡¯re going to take off my nuts with a rusty spoon and feed them to me. No way.¡±

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    That¡¯s a bit of an exaggeration. I¡¯m not so crass as to intervene in someone¡¯s relationship. He¡¯d have to do something pretty drastic for me to take his nuts, heh. But it¡¯s a convenient misconception so I don¡¯t bother correcting him.

    ¡°I¡¯m not the only one,¡± Jac says while looking toward Alana. My future knight is leaning against me, one hand tightly grasping my arm while the other has just as tight a hold on the bottle of Herbanacle. I really should take that from her. Magic can only do so much. If she drains that bottle, she¡¯ll be passed out on the floor in minutes.

    ¡°Right, you haven¡¯t met. Jac, this is Alana James¡ª"

    ¡°James?¡± she questions with a sharp voice. ¡°As in, the James family James? The duke of the north James?¡±

    ¡°His youngest daughter,¡± Alana says.

    ¡°Alana, this is my cousin, Jacquellin Tome.¡±

    ¡°A pleasure.¡±

    I can¡¯t quite read Jac¡¯s expression. It¡¯s somewhere between shock and exasperation. ¡°Do I even want to know how you two know each other?¡± The question behind her question is why am I associating with a northern barbarian, no matter her status. Being from the capital, all she knows of Victory are the rumors about their bloody campaigns and suicidal knights. Which aren¡¯t wrong but are most likely horribly exaggerated.

    She probably thinks that all Victorians are madmen and women who rip the hearts out of manabeasts and eat them raw while howling at full moons. An image better suited to the members of the Temple. I imagine she doesn¡¯t think much of the north and, by extension, doesn¡¯t think much of Alana. We can¡¯t have that.

    ¡°She¡¯s my second wife. To be. We¡¯re still working out the details.¡±

    Amusingly, her first response is to look to Kierra with a fearful gaze, as if the elf will murder me for daring to step outside of our union. My cousin relaxes when she finds a smile on Kierra¡¯s face instead of murderous rage. With her fears assuaged, she lets her curiosity reign.

    ¡°Allow me a moment of clarification. You¡ª" She points at Kierra. ¡°And you¡ª" She points to Alana. ¡°Both want to be married to Lou. And don¡¯t mind that there¡¯s also a mistress in the equation.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alana mutters.

    ¡°Do not forget her many dalliances,¡± Kierra adds, clearly amused. She waits until Jac meets her gaze before not-so-subtly looking toward Cynthia. The alchemist smiles at her briefly before turning her attention to me, as it has been since I¡¯ve come over.

    ¡°¡­why?¡± my poor cousin asks, very confused. There¡¯s so much confusion in her voice that I¡¯m a little offended. Is it so hard to believe? ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only in it for a bit of fun,¡± Cynthia says with no shame. ¡°I had the same thoughts as you and thought I¡¯d find out the answer. I must say, for once, the rumors were understatements. I¡¯m not at all surprised that she can keep multiple women satisfied. She certainly has the¡­physical qualifications.¡±

    ¡°For my people, multiple partners are normal,¡± Kierra says. ¡°Lou is talented and loving. We can build a future together. That includes our growing clan.¡±

    All eyes turn to Alana, who freezes. The quiet expectations weigh on her until she eventually grumbles out an answer. ¡°She¡¯s a bit of an idiot but she¡¯s strong, wealthy, treats me well, and makes me laugh. I can deal with her being a giant pervert.¡±

    She moves to take another swig of the Herbanacle, but I swipe it from her hand. She glares at me. ¡°Really? After I just said those nice things?¡±

    ¡°Thank you but no drinking till you pass out.¡± It won¡¯t help anyway. She likes to pretend she doesn¡¯t remember what happens after she drinks heavily but we both know that¡¯s a convenient lie.

    She starts to grumble but I cut her off with a kiss, aggressively pushing my tongue past her lips. The grumbling stops as she sucks on the end of my wet muscle, closing her eyes in contentment. They snap open as I pull away, but she doesn¡¯t try to retrieve her bottle, leaning against me more with a soft huff.

    ¡°Strong, is it. I take it your studies at the Hall have been fruitful?¡±

    The question surprises me. It takes a moment to remember she has no knowledge of my prime form, not even the rumors of my ridiculous strength of durability. Didn¡¯t Alyssa say she wanted me to show her hunter friend some of my strength? Well, I can give her a demonstration and liven up things a little.

    ¡°You have no idea¡­so let me show you.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-42

    Alana is reluctant to let go of my arm. I have to pass her to Kierra, who expertly pries the slightly drunk blonde off me and scoops her up. Since they¡¯ve been training together, they¡¯ve gotten much closer. I don¡¯t know if what they have is love but there is certainly a strong camaraderie there. And sexual tension. That¡¯s thick enough between them that I could take a bite out of it.

    To be fair, my wife inspires lust in just about anyone with any level of libido, no matter their relationship status or what they think they¡¯re attracted to. It¡¯s a rare person that can resist her charms. Alana didn¡¯t stand a chance. More interesting is that Kierra is just as interested in her.

    Alana is very desirable, despite what she thinks of herself though I think I¡¯m getting through to her on that front, and Kierra is a sexual person. I never questioned that she would be up to joining the two of us. What surprises me a little is that they are intimate outside of me.

    Kierra is a lovely savage, with a strong emphasis on the word savage. She can be soft and gentle, but she prefers and defaults to hard and violent in most areas of her life. The bedroom is a prime example, not an exception. Alana is strong, and growing stronger everyday under Kierra¡¯s attentions, but she can¡¯t handle the kind of face-in-the-dirt, ride-you-until-your back-breaks, rutting my elf craves.

    Alana also isn¡¯t a flower like Talia, the kind of lover Kierra¡¯s culture demands she be gentle with. She wants to be a fighter. Which should mean that my elf treats her as roughly as she treats me. Yet, she doesn¡¯t. I wouldn¡¯t say she¡¯s gentle but she¡¯s certainly¡­patient. If there was ever a doubt that she¡¯s making an effort to adjust to life in the human kingdom, her relationship with Alana serves as ample proof.

    I smile at Jac before jumping onto the stage. Talia makes room for me center stage, stepping back. I look over the socializing crowd, contemplating the best way to capture everyone¡¯s attention.

    I settle for a faux roar, doing my best imitation of a titan. A normal person attempting such a thing would make a fool of themselves at best but no part of me is normal. Including my voice and my lungs. My roar, well. It doesn¡¯t sound like a titan, but it is monstrous. And it does its job to hilarious effect.

    The room jumps to attention. Many eyes glow with channeled mana as the experienced fighters in the room react to the perceived threat. The three most impressive responses are Jack, Alyssa¡¯s scruffy hunter friend, Lane, her lackey, and Mouse-tail from the Temple group.

    While the redheaded instructor has the standard response of scanning the room with a level-headed stare, the two men next to her are far more extreme. Jack drops his drink, Bell performing a miraculous slide to keep the glass from shattering, and produces two long knives from seemingly nowhere while crouching. He looks ready to pounce on something, displaying both a ferocity and agility I wouldn¡¯t expect from his appearance.

    I have no doubt that if I were standing next to him when I pulled my little stunt, I would have a few more holes. Maybe. He¡¯s quick but I don¡¯t know if he has what it takes to pierce my tough skin. He certainly would have tried.

    Lane is similarly impressive in the opposite direction. Every other fighter in the room looks for the threat, ready to strike. Lane doesn¡¯t bother. His first instinct is to step between me, the source of the sound, and Alyssa. He extends a hand and fire erupts from his palm, forming a shield.

    Fire is the worst affinity when it comes to defense but it can serve as a deterrent. Really, it¡¯s the thought that counts. And his first thought is to protect her. It¡¯s heartwarming¡­and sad. So incredibly sad. The poor man¡¯s love is practically overflowing but he doesn¡¯t have a chance with her. Not so long as he remains as meek as a mouse.

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    Speaking of a mouse, Mouse-tail has the most dramatic response by far. She jumps, getting impressive air, with her tail sticking straight up. When she lands, she lowers herself nearly to the floor and scampers behind Shake, the largest of her friends. I understand that those of the Temple emulate beasts but that was the most rodent-like response I could have imagined. I almost feel bad for being amused by it. Almost.

    I clap my hands, drawing everyone¡¯s gaze to me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, nothing¡¯s trying to eat you.¡± I chuckle as the room settles down. Shoulders relax, Mouse-tail looks at me dubiously from around one of Shake¡¯s thick arms, Lane drops his spell with an embarrassed flush after Alyssa smacks him on the back, and Jack straightens up while putting away his knives. Huh. Their sheathes are on his back, under his shirt. That¡¯s one way to be discreet. I wonder if they chafe?

    ¡°While I intended to do nothing but drink and make merry tonight, several guests have asked for a demonstration of my more physical talents.¡±

    ¡°Oh, for the love of the saints!¡± Alyssa grumbles. ¡°I swear, if this damn brat has an orgy in the middle of the fucking¡ª"

    ¡°Nothing that fun,¡± I say, making the woman who thought her comment would go unnoticed scowl. ¡°While I¡¯m sure everyone would prefer I take off my clothes¡ª" A piercing whistle draws my attention to Cloud, who smiles broadly. I waggle my fingers at her. ¡°I am talking about demonstrating my strength and durability. And since this is a party, I¡¯ve decided to make a game of it. I¡¯m challenging everyone here to put me down for the count. Knock me out. Kill me. Whatever you got.¡±

    ¡°You cannot be serious,¡± Alyssa grumbles, this time much louder.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­dangerous?¡± William asks, his voice only rising for a moment before he shyly curls in on himself. He¡¯s not the only one who looks worried. There is also a concerning amount of excited smiles in the crowd. Including all the members of the Temple. They really are insane.

    ¡°A few of you may be concerned about using lethal force on your charming host. There is no need to fear. I am completely confident that you¡¯re all going to fail. Completely.¡± That gets some people motivated to commit bodily harm. ¡°And even if I¡¯m wrong, there are two master-level healers in the building to save me. One of which is my wonderful wife, the strikingly beautiful elf over there who on top of being gorgeous has a pure physical affinity. Truly, the world isn¡¯t fair.¡±

    Kierra looks up from cuddling Alana and winks at me.

    ¡°She¡¯s proved that someone dying isn¡¯t enough to stop her from bringing them back so there¡¯s no need for anyone to hold back. However, there are going to be some rules. To start, no large attacks. You¡¯re going to be attacking me, not the house. Keep it contained, people.¡±

    What else is a good idea? ¡°We¡¯re going to have to limit the attacks each person gets or we¡¯ll be doing this all night. One at a time, wait your turns. And¡­I think that covers it. Gajin, give us something¡­¡± I gesture with my hands but it¡¯s enough for my gardener to understand my meaning.

    Perched on a short stool, he rubs his hands together before slapping his largest drum in a strong, steady beat. Geneva is the next to join in, playing her lute-like instrument angrily, which is not a word I¡¯d ever thought I¡¯d apply to music. Talia and Earl stay quiet, but I can feel their focus, telling me it¡¯s only a matter of time before they join in.

    I jump off the stage and make my way to the center of the room. ¡°Bell, clear that wall.¡± The imp does as instructed, cooing at the crowd and shuffling them to the side. Giving the challengers ample room with no chance of anyone behind me getting caught in any crossfire as I stand in front of the empty wall. I shrug off my shirt and toss it toward Cloud, but Mouse-tail swipes it from her, once again showing off her impressive jumping ability. My eyebrows go up as she holds my shirt to her nose and breathes in hard enough that I can hear it, but that¡¯s something for later.

    ¡°You never said what the winner gets,¡± Arthur calls out.

    Damn!

    ¡°The winner gets a case full of any drink they fancy,¡± Kierra calls out, saving me. ¡°If you do not care to drink it yourself, they are unique delicacies and you all can vouch for the taste. A case would be worth a small, or perhaps not so small, fortune.¡±

    I clap my hands. ¡°And with that, let¡¯s begin. Who¡¯s first?¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-43

    I bob my head to the angry music as the crowd shuffles around. There are fewer challengers than I would have guessed. Plenty of people are interested but not many want to take the swing themselves.

    The members of the Temple are eager to participate, except for Mouse-Tail. Some more than most. Shake is particularly energetic, stretching while watching me with an almost uncomfortable intensity.

    The group from Graywatch isn¡¯t showing much interest, the others taking their cue from Arthur and Way far too engrossed in a conversation with Cynthia to bother trying to slug it out with me. Surprisingly, William is showing an interest, lingering at the edge of the crowd. Gabriel is also on the outskirts, but his younger brother has a tight hold of his arm. I can¡¯t hear his whispers over the rest of the commotion, but I imagine he''s trying to stop his older brother from doing something stupid. Guess the reward is pretty tempting if they¡¯re looking to take a swing at me.

    Kierra and Alana ae organizing the crowd. Mostly Alana, ordering people about with sharp words and gesturing to the far more intimidating elf when people hesitate to follow her orders. I¡¯m sure Kierra would be happy to let all of them run at me, but Alana comes from a dueling culture and enforces order on the chaos. She also pulls aside those she thinks have no business participating. Namely, William and Gabriel, sending them both towards the drink table with a stern glare and a few soft shoves.

    When the still damp Junior joins the line of contenders, she turns to me for approval. I nod enthusiastically. As if I¡¯d deny the Mason patriarch an opportunity to embarrass himself.

    Order reigns, a line is formed, and Alana waves the first contender forward. The scruffy old hunter Jack, watched closely by Alyssa, whose has a vested interest in the outcome, and the love-struck Lane, who hasn¡¯t left her side since the end of the tour. As he approaches, Talia begins to sing. No ballad or epic tale, probably because I can¡¯t imagine one that fits the mood. Just her voice, rising in falling in melodious notes that are both vigorous and enchanting. Combined with the vicious accompaniment of instruments, it creates an electrifying sound that makes my heart pound. I hop from foot to foot, excitement growing.

    ¡°Lady Tome,¡± the hunter says politely, going as far as to bow. ¡°Fore I try to murder ya, I wanted to say thanks for the booze and eats. Good stuff.¡±

    A small laugh bursts out of me. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. And don¡¯t worry about trying to murder me. You won¡¯t do any permanent damage.¡±

    ¡°Glad you¡¯re sure of yourself.¡± Once again, he draws his knives. He looks at them pointedly before turning to me. ¡°You¡¯re going to stand still, yeah? No dodging or nothing?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how this works. Make sure you aim for the vitals. You don¡¯t have many chances.¡±

    ¡°Two, ¡®cording to the wheathead. Er, no disrespect.¡±

    Some taken but I know I¡¯m sensitive about these things. ¡°Two chances, huh? The first must be for you to see how durable I really am so you don¡¯t hod back on the second try.¡±

    ¡°Ah, no worries. I¡¯m going to be giving it my all from the start. Hunting isn¡¯t a job where you hold back.¡± He slides one of the knives back into its sheathe. Then he approaches, close enough to use his weapon. His eyes begin to glow. ¡°Don¡¯t get a chance to use this much since enemies don¡¯t like standing still and taking it but it¡¯s the best I got.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see it.¡±

    He raises the knife and the blade begins to twitch. ¡°Suppose I should explain what I¡¯m doing while you wait. And because I want you to know what the guilds do. Why they¡¯re important. Guilds nurture hunters. Successfully fulfilling requests is rewarded with merits. Those merits can be exchanged for all kinds of stuff. Including spells. What I¡¯m about to use is a spell created by a former hunter, freely given to better the next generations.¡±

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    How heartwarming. ¡°What is this wonderful spell?¡±

    He scoffs. ¡°Nothing wonderful about it. Nasty stuff and real complicated. Too complicated to be practical but can¡¯t think of anything better to take down something that doesn¡¯t stay down.¡±

    ¡°¡­gonna tell me what it does?¡±

    ¡°Makes the metal swim inside you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡ª¡±

    The bastard doesn¡¯t wait for me to finish, interrupting me by stabbing me in the throat. He manages to drive the thing hilt deep, an impressive show of strength, either magical or physical. He twists the hilt, snapping the blade off. And then the saints damned steel begins to move.

    I choke on my own blood as the blade apparently gains a life of its own and begins to worm around inside of me, shrinking and expanding as it shreds my insides.

    I double over and grit my teeth as I endure the excruciating pain. This absolute fucker. He was supposed to try to punch my lights out or set me on fire. Not whatever this abomination of a spell is. Saints, is this what that goliath felt when Kierra was clawing around in its guts? We owe that poor creature several prayers.

    I can only endure a few seconds before I cheat by shifting my insides to ooze. The blades continues to cut away at me but there¡¯s no pain without any flesh to tear. I can¡¯t swallow the knife, as my prodigious appetite and devouring ability only applies to organic things. It¡¯s a bit uncomfortable but I endure until the blade stops moving.

    The onlookers gasp as I pierce my own stomach with a hand, something that looks far more impressive than it is. I manipulate the ooze inside me to push the knife close to the skin and then shift said skin to that of my original human self. Easily of to pierce with my strength.

    I pinch the misshapen metal with two fingers and fling across the floor. A quick shift later and I whole and healthy. I stand and sneer at the hunter. ¡°That was¡­distasteful.¡±

    Jack bends down to pick up what remains of his blade. He holds it up, turning it back and forth like it¡¯s some kind of trick. ¡°Fuck me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d never.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking monster to survive that, you know?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± I spit out the blood in my mouth and wipe my lips with the back of a hand. ¡°You should make sure your friends know too before we all have a sit down. And you¡¯re a bastard.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± He salutes me with the twisted metal before walking off, the crowd parting to make room for him to pass. I notice Bell scampering toward him with a drink in her tail before turning to face the next contender.

    Jack¡¯s failure doesn¡¯t seem to discourage Cloud as she steps forward with a big smile. ¡°As impressive as always, sister,¡± she says. ¡°The hunter did better than I expected. I thought you immune to blades.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but more power is always the answer. Swing it hard enough and it¡¯ll cut.¡± Not to mention my insides are softer than my outsides, like everyone else. ¡°Surprised you¡¯re giving this a shot. Forgotten the north already?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯m not here for the reward. Your green mate informed me of the reason for your demonstration. I am happy to help.¡±

    Always such a good friend. ¡°So? What did you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°I was thinking¡­something personal.¡± Cloud stalks forward, flashing a smile with four canines just a touch too big and too sharp. Not as pronounced as Fox-Ears but she¡¯s well one her way. My mind goes back to the qualifiers and running my fingers through the soft fur on her back. I try to imagine it in other places, pushing my imagination to define how far she¡¯d have to go before exotic becomes offensive.

    Huh. I think it¡¯s pretty far. Maybe it¡¯s because I¡¯m a shapeshifter myself, I¡¯m more accepting of inhuman appearances. I think I¡¯m looking forward to seeing the final result.

    She rolls up her sleeves and a slight thrill goes through seeing the new fur along the back of her arms. Is it wrong that I¡¯m looking forward to stroking her? Don¡¯t care if it is. It¡¯s my party in my house. Besides, Cloud won¡¯t mind and that¡¯s what¡¯s important. ¡°I¡¯m all yours.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how I like it.¡± She steps behind me, calloused fingers stroking the back of my neck. Then she viciously wraps an arm around my neck and squeezes.

    She¡¯s strong enough that I can feel the pressure but it¡¯s a far cry from cutting off my air. I leisurely stroke the dark fur that caught my attention as she does her best to strangle me. Ooo, it¡¯s as soft as I remember.

    ¡°You could at least pretend to be in a little danger,¡± Cloud chuckles into my ear.

    ¡°Would that turn you on?¡± I ask, never stopping my stroking. Not even when she nips at my ear in, growling softly in mock offense. Or maybe invitation. Hard to tell. It is cute. So is the way her teeth tickle me, unable to draw blood.

    While one arms tries to kill me, the other roams my body with impunity, uncaring about the sizable audience watching us. It¡¯s only when she gets close to my crotch that someone interrupts.

    It''s a strange sound, between a huff and a bellow, but it¡¯s as effective as a whip. Cloud immediately releases me and takes aa step back as the next contender, Shake steps forward.

    ¡°You can lay with her later, Cloud,¡± the big woman says. ¡°Do not deny me communion.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-44

    ¡°Just making a point, sister. I try to strangle her and she takes pleasure in my touch. A difficult opponent.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps she simply enjoys being choked,¡± Shake says in a tone that makes me a little nervous. Who enjoys being choked? Ah, well. I suppose I have no room to talk. I enjoy being tackled to the ground and snacked on by strong, older women. In comparison, a little choking hardly seems like something to get worked up about.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t say I hate it,¡± I mutter as I massage my neck. ¡°How about it Cloud? Want to go for round two?¡±

    ¡°Must I lay on my back and bear my stomach? I think I¡¯ve helped you demonstrate your prowess enough.¡± With a wave, she walks away, heading for Alana who is fending off the attentions of Fox-Ears and Mouse-Tail. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s going to be fun but my attention is wholly consumed by the excited woman ready to break me in half and not in the fun way.

    Shake really is impressive, physically speaking. She¡¯s tall, taller than even Kierra whose is taller than any other woman I know and most men, with legs as thick as logs and arms almost as big. Her muscles goes beyond the toned, defined bodies of myself and my wives. My elf is like a large cat, with a lean form perfect for its function. I¡¯m strong but there¡¯s still a few places where I¡¯m soft.

    Shake? This woman is a wall. There isn¡¯t a touch of softness on her. Not on her body and not in her face that is all angles. I could probably fit a wagon on her broad shoulders. Saints, she can probably hurt someone if she looks at them too hard.

    ¡°How do you know Cloud?¡± I ask as she looks me up and down.

    ¡°Cubs are raised together. We were born in the same season.¡±

    ¡°Ah. That¡¯s why she calls you sister.¡±

    ¡°She calls you that as well.¡±

    ¡°We bonded over wrestling monsters.¡±

    ¡°The bonds of communion are stronger than blood.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s more that we¡¯re kindred spirits.¡±

    ¡°Then we are of one heart as well.¡± The crowd makes room as Shake backs up, putting distance between us. She crouches, touching the floor with the tips of her fingers and lining up her horn so it¡¯s ready to skewer me. It¡¯s a strange position but I recognize the beginning of a charge when I see one. I set my feet and prepare for it, slapping my chest right over my heart. ¡°Don¡¯t miss.¡±

    She lets out an explosive breath and her eyes begin to glow. Incredibly, so does her horn, the ivory gaining a soft luminance as her bronze skin darkens. Our eyes meet. I see the moment she decides to attack, the moment I would take to dodge if this was a serious fight. But as it¡¯s a challenge for them, and a joke to me, I hold my ground.

    Her first step splinters the wooden boards beneath her and each consecutive step does more damage. I grunt as her horn punches through my chest and her arms wraps around me as she powers forward.

    I don¡¯t know why I imagine she¡¯ll stop as we near the wall. Instead, she leaps forward, blasting through the wall in a shower of splinters. The saints damned horn slides in deeper as we hit the ground, throwing up dirt and grass as we crash through the garden.

    When we finally come to a stop, I shove her off me and roll away. We both take a few moments to recover, I taking a few moments to do two rapid shifts while Shake shakes her head while climbing to her feet.

    We face each other, both unharmed despite the destruction we¡¯ve wrought. ¡°I should have pierced your heart,¡± she grumbles while approaching me.

    ¡°Bones must have knocked you off course.¡±

    ¡°I usually pierce bone.¡± She huffs and her breath frosts in the cool evening air. It¡¯s not that cold out¡­so she must be running hot.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°When my charge doesn¡¯t work, I crush the prey, but Cloud has made it clear that isn¡¯t an option.¡±

    ¡°Never know until you try.¡± All that close contact is making me¡­mm. The pain isn¡¯t enough to dissuade me. Might be making it work. Jack¡¯s little party trick was terrible but her horn was nothing compared to the early days of Kierra¡¯s training, when the crazy elf would hurl blades at any opportunity.

    ¡°Do not eat meat you would deny to your brethren. It is either poison to the body or the spirit.¡± She chuckles. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be good for me to indulge after denying Cloud. The Temple teaches its children to hold grudges and pay them back manifold. Perhaps later, if your confidence and constitution remain intact.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a promise. In the meantime, you have to tell me what¡¯s going on with that body.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t nearly as impressive as your own.¡±

    ¡°No one¡¯s is as impressive as me. I won¡¯t hold it against you.¡±

    Shake lets out a roar of laughter, a large arm going around my shoulder and pulling me into her side. The heat she gives off makes me sigh and unconsciously burrow deeper into her hold. Like I thought, she runs hot. ¡°In every litter, a leader is chosen. One who is closest to the brethren and is fit to guide the others down the natural path. I am the leader of my litter. It comes with many responsibilities but also many opportunities. Most envious is priority attention from the Temple¡¯s fleshworkers.¡±

    Ah. ¡°You¡¯re saying that you are not special, but further along the path than most. Or most members of the Temple your age.¡±

    She squeezes my shoulder. ¡°I follow the path of the Jesheau warhorse, a bloodline preserved from the ancient kingdoms. They are faster and stronger than any other. Far more durable as well. Our keepers of knowledge have records of warriors riding them into battle. The Jesheaus were just as much weapons as the swords and spears wielded by their riders. They charged into enemy armies, carrying the corpses of three or more men on their large horns.¡±

    I can believe it. She carried me like I was nothing and she¡¯s a diminutive version of the manabeast she¡¯s seeking to emulate.

    ¡°As they are mounts of war, they were brought to the Harvest continent. The Temple¡¯s first followers bred them at the behest of the old generals, both keeping the bloodline pure and interbreeding them with other mounts of war. One of the resulting bloodlines was the Moon Jesheaun.¡± Her opposite hand points to her glowing horn. ¡°Smaller and less aggressive but smarter and more magically gifted. They have bad sight on bright days but compensate for it with good nightvision. They are also very resistant to the cold, which is nice during winter.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you chose to emulate them?¡±

    ¡°Look like one, live like one, become one. The Jesheaus are omnivores that eat anything that threatens them. They are highly aggressive and territorial. They must be raised alongside their riders from foals and will throw any other that tries to mount them. To live like them would require me to be a being of carnage.¡± She brings us to a stop and looks down at me, dark eyes big and serious. ¡°Be careful who you surround yourself, as you will become what you know.¡±

    ¡°Is that supposed to be a warning?¡± I whisper into the tense air.

    She sighs explosively. ¡°Guidance. I speak it with the same instincts that tell me to breathe. A consequence of being the leader. Take of me what you want and ignore the rest.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a really open offer.¡±

    ¡°I meant it as I said it.¡± We step into the house before I can comment on that weighty statement. Many curious gazes immediately snap to us. Shake steps away from me with a big grin. ¡°I failed!¡± she roars, with the same energy as someone declaring victory. Amusingly, the other members of the Temple cheer for her, hooping and hollering. ¡°Ruby, you are next.¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Fox-Ears, or I guess Ruby, shakes her head. ¡°Lay-Lay says she¡¯s just as tough against magic and I rather not deal with the mana strain.¡±

    ¡°Lay-Lay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± I stifle a laugh as she latches onto Alana, squeezing her around the waist. My future knight grimaces but doesn¡¯t push her away. ¡°She¡¯s super nice and she said I shouldn¡¯t bother so I¡¯d rather not.¡± The girl tries to discretely sniff her but Alana notices and pushes her face away. That¡¯s not enough to dissuade the girl, who holds on with a shameless grin. In the midst of their struggle, my future wife glares at me, rightly blaming me for her troubles. It¡¯s not her scent that¡¯s got the fox-girl stuck to her.

    I turn my attention away to focus on the rest of the contenders. ¡°Anyone else? Come on,¡± I wheedle them as I see nothing but resignation and reluctance. ¡°You haven¡¯t got a chance in the Abyss but that¡¯s no reason not to try.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go.¡±

    The crowd parts to make room for Junior as he stomps forward, Fen following behind him. ¡°Forget the reward. A free chance to punch you is good enough.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re only going to hurt yourself,¡± I say, not bothering to look at him as I waggle my fingers at his, but really my, succubus. She blows me a kiss. I mime catching it and pressing it to my own lips, making her giggle. It¡¯s fake, of course. Something so juvenile would never get a reaction out of such a creature but she indulges me and that is a pleasure of its own. ¡°You may be a gorilla but I¡¯m a lot tougher than I¡¯d used to be.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not blind. What I am is a physical caster with some competence. I¡¯ll take my chances.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-45

    Childhood fears are a strange thing. When you¡¯re young, the simplest things seem impossibly complex and the easiest obstacles insurmountable.

    As a child, Gordon and the Grimoires were worse than the imaginary monsters that lurked in gloomy corners or within the unfathomable darkness beneath my bed. They were real, flesh and blood, and they would be with me always, there to terrorize me even after I¡¯d grown up. For the longest time, I accepted that I would be oppressed by the Grimoires with the same certainty that I knew the sun would rise and set every day.

    Now, as I approach the two-year mark since my faithful encounter with the glossiest elemental in all the realms, that certainty has been turned upside down along with the rest of my life. The Grimoires, the Tome family¡¯s greatest fear for generations, are no more. Humbled into retaking their original name and made the puppets of the creatures they once treated as pets. My childhood bully, Junior, is nothing more than a puppet. All his family¡¯s wealth, power, and traditions have been turned against him, made to serve another¡¯s purpose. His family made to serve another¡¯s purpose, at the whim of a Tome.

    The scowl he wears as he prepares to take his free shot at me thoroughly communicates how much he hates me. I have no doubt that he is going to use this opportunity to put me down, or at least try to with all the strength he¡¯s capable of.

    I¡¯m sure, to him, my death is the answer to all his problems. Too bad my dying will do nothing to improve his life. Even if he could kill me, Geneva, the highest-ranking succubus in this realm, has already ordered all the succubi contracted by the Masons to ignore their orders. Fen will never again be under his control.

    Saints, I don¡¯t want to imagine what that creature would do to him if she wasn¡¯t constrained by my arbitrary rules and Geneva¡¯s agenda. He should be thanking me for whatever peace he has in his unfortunate life, but deep thought has never been his family¡¯s strong suit. They prefer to strong-arm their problems. Hence, Junior getting ready to pummel me rather than stress his peanut-sized mind.

    ¡°You¡¯re really going to stand there and let me hit you?¡± he asks skeptically, his eyes glowing as he channels mana. ¡°I won¡¯t be holding back. At all.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t expect you to.¡± I watch in growing amusement as he shakes himself and balls his hands into fists. ¡°How have you been, Junior? Has Fen been treating you well?¡±

    He sneers. ¡°Oh, great. She keeps me clean and fed. Sometimes, I even get three meals a day. How about your pets? They treating you well?¡±

    ¡°Looking for tips from the better summoner?¡±

    ¡°Better summoner my ass. Do Tomes even summon anymore? Your cousin wants nothing to do with your prized art and all you¡¯ve done with your so-called talent is copy my family.¡±

    ¡°Is that meant to be an insult? Cause you¡¯re only insulting yourself. The Grimoires have done nothing but copy each other for literal centuries. At least the Tomes have made advances in the field.¡±

    ¡°Are you talking about your father¡¯s little theory? Sure, it was original but it¡¯s useless, isn¡¯t it?¡± His mouth opens again, but no words come out. Junior trembles, as if fighting something, but ultimately closes his mouth and shakes his head. ¡°This back and forth is pointless. I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ¡°Give it your best.¡±

    The bastard doesn¡¯t even have the decency to hesitate before throwing one of his meaty fists at my face, oh so slowly. Saints, it would be so easy to move out of the way, but I let the blow connect. It barely has enough weight to turn my face and it certainly doesn¡¯t do any damage. ¡°Is that all you have?¡±

    He roars and hits me again. When he attempts a third blow, I catch his wrist and my opposite hand lightly grabs him by the throat. ¡°Ah ah,¡± I mock, shaking him like a child disciplining a misbehaving pet. ¡°You only get two tries.¡±

    ¡°All that power¡­¡± he forces out between the pressure of my grip and his grit teeth. ¡°¡­and you¡¯re still clueless.¡±

    Clueless? That has to be a joke. If anyone is clueless, it¡¯s him. ¡°No need to be a sore loser.¡± I toss him away, Junior stumbling as he struggles to keep his balance. ¡°Walk if off and grab a drink. The night is still young.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    He grunts while rubbing his throat. ¡°You look different but underneath it all, you¡¯re still the same Lou.¡± His tone suggests that his parting shot is meant to be an insult, but he leaves it at that, still massaging his throat as he moves toward the drinks table.

    I let him go. Junior is the last person I need to argue with. I¡¯ve won against him in every way, including the ways that don¡¯t matter. If throwing a few cryptic barbs makes him feel better, I¡¯m not so petty as to deny him.

    ¡°Anyone else?¡± I query the crowd. ¡°A free shot at me with no consequences. A small fortune in goodies and all you have to do is put me down. Anyone? Anyone at all?¡± I snicker when no one takes me up on my offer. ¡°That¡¯s fine. Thank you to all my contenders. I hope everyone enjoyed the show.¡±

    Right on cue, the angry music changes to something more relaxing, Talia¡¯s powerful voice softening and my servants quick to adjust the music accompanying her. Conversation picks up, the crowd mainly discussing my little performance and its consequences. Several tongues wag with speculation about the Hall¡¯s reaction to the giant hole in our wall. A hole that is letting in a draft in. Bell, do something about that.

    As my imp scampers over to raise a wall of earth, I make my way over to Alyssa. Lane still hasn¡¯t left the redhead¡¯s side and, judging from how tense he looks and the way the instructor isn¡¯t paying any attention to him, I assume he still hasn¡¯t mustered the courage to confess. He stares at me as I approach but doesn¡¯t say anything, choosing to focus on his drink instead. Which suits me fine as I have nothing to say to him. ¡°Will that do for a demonstration?¡± I ask Alyssa.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± The redhead sighs. ¡°I¡¯m sure Jack saw enough to put in a word with the guilds. Pretty hard to take revenge on a woman that can¡¯t be killed. From the chatter I heard, the side arguing to take you down figured that as long as they could separate you from your elf, you¡¯d be the easiest target to take out, but you definitively put that suspicion down. He used the worm on you, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°The what?¡±

    ¡°Blade worming through your gut.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Very unpleasant.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t supposed to feel good.¡± We share a chuckle. ¡°Hey, uh¡­thanks. If that proved anything, it¡¯s that you don¡¯t need to bother deescalating. I don¡¯t even want to imagine what it would take to kill you. Reminds me of the stories the guilds have of the legendary monsters they¡¯ve brought down. Beasts so strong and tough entire guilds mobilized to bring them down.¡±

    ¡°They have records?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Big musty tomes they keep in locked chests and those are kept in vaults. I imagine they like them more than summoners like their records.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so quick to. I know they haven¡¯t given the best impression, but the guilds are old institutions with a lot of history. They¡¯ve done as much to settle this continent as the royal army or any noble house. And some of the creatures they had to take down. There were a lot more Harvest heroes back then. And I mean heroes. They didn¡¯t have time for petty nonsense like kidnapping brewers.¡±

    ¡°No. They were too busy slaughtering the original lords of this land.¡±

    Shake steps up beside us. The look she gives Alyssa¡­it isn¡¯t mean, I suppose. Maybe a little challenging. And the instructor returns it, somehow both expressing her exasperation and her readiness to handle any unwanted confrontations. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve read about the creatures the Temple worshipped. They would have us digging roots out of the ground instead of farming.¡±

    ¡°Living in harmony with the land, according to the natural cycles of the world.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I like getting my meat from a market. And plumbing.¡±

    The big woman scoffs. ¡°Humanity is its own race, with its own needs and quirks. Conflict is expected. Greatness would have been finding the way to reconcile our needs with those of the teachers who gave us their wisdom and welcome. Instead, when their ways conflicted with the vision of men, their solution was to kill them and raze their lands.¡±

    ¡°Did you want an apology or something?¡± the redhead snipes, frustration evident in her tone. ¡°Cause you¡¯re not getting one. I don¡¯t care how intelligent they were, a beast is a beast. I and no one else should feel guilty putting down a threat. They sure as shit wouldn¡¯t have spared us.¡±

    ¡°No apology needed. You bear their sins but not their fault. When you mentioned the glory of the guilds of old, I could not let the comment pass without mentioning their shame. But that is not why I am here.¡± She turns to me with a big grin. ¡°Your communion ended earlier than I thought.¡±

    I smile back at her, mostly because I¡¯m happy that she isn¡¯t the kind of fanatic that would ruin a good party arguing with someone about her beliefs till someone runs out of breath, figuratively or literally. ¡°That¡¯s your fault. Throwing us through a wall is a hard act to follow.¡±

    ¡°You are remarkably resistant to blunt force. It is a shame Ruby did not partake. I was curious to see how you would handle magic.¡±

    ¡°Pretty resistant to that too. The elements, I mean. A knife cutting apart my guts is as harmful to me as anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Not quite. You stood back up.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because I heal better than anyone else.¡±

    ¡°I had hoped to discuss that. If you do not mind talking about yourself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing to hide.¡± Not really. I already decided to be freer with my affinities and I¡¯m sure rumors of the March have spread by now. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± I say to Alyssa and Lane. The redhead waves me off while her lackey ignores us. I wonder what¡¯s going through his mind but not for long. One of Shake¡¯s hands grabs my shoulder and I let her lead me away.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-46 (Yulia)

    It took much longer than Yulia expected to settle Allen for the night. Her son had been bursting with energy since the start of their trip and she didn¡¯t know what to blame. It could have been the new and interesting sights. The spring sun, bright blue sky, and green surroundings were enough to keep her in a cheerful mood. She¡¯d never admit it aloud but not all their stops along the road were for her son to frolic in the fields.

    It might have been the beds. Victory was not a place where comfort was prioritized. Their mattresses practically felt like wood. As a James, she could afford something with a little more padding but nothing like what was in Lou¡¯s house. She didn¡¯t want to get up in the mornings anymore, despite waking up refreshed and full of energy. If there was one souvenir she brought back from her trip, it was going to be a mattress, even if she had to carry it on her back.

    Or it could be the food. She had known the succubus, the one called Geneva, was an incredible cook but had very much underestimated her. Lou made a point of asking the creature to cook food that was ¡°good for children¡±. Yulia was happy to see that included plenty of fresh vegetables, something of a rarity in the north, and was surprised at how eagerly Allen devoured them.

    After every meal, he was practically bouncing with energy. It felt good to see him so healthy, but she worried that he¡¯d throw a fit when it came time to leave Lou and the incredible cooking behind. They couldn¡¯t stay forever.

    But her concerns belonged to tomorrow. Tonight was about celebration¡­and collecting information. She had negotiations to conduct. Perhaps two. While she and her son couldn¡¯t stay in the south, Lou was more than welcome to return to the north. And, seeing as she had just been banned from the Hall and disavowed by the king, Yulia was hopeful about convincing her. She had to do so before the crown realized what kind of talent it was driving away.

    If either of her endeavors were going to be successful, she needed more information about her sister-in-law. The kind she couldn¡¯t get asking blunt questions and needed to fish out from the sea of her acquaintances. Something she had done plenty of times before. The biggest complication was navigating the party.

    Yulia enjoyed parties. So much so that she¡¯d hosted several in Victory. Through liberal use of her last name, she¡¯d made a dent in the tradition of social gatherings being old men sharing war stories over bad drinks or worried mothers comforting themselves while their children were at war.

    Her ¡°garden parties¡±, something she started to promote the use of ice gardens to give the fort a little color, were a big hit despite her forbidding talk of training, combat, or the campaigns. The women that attended talked about old family recipes, cute stories about their children too young to be concerned with matters of war, the best way to keep furs, and art. They loved it.

    Yulia had hoped to spark an interest in developing the north¡¯s culture outside of fighting and it had worked. Unfortunately, her movement was too closely tied to her. They mistakenly thought that her input was needed to make even the slightest progress. Everything from planning, preparing, and realizing the events was placed on her shoulders.

    Then, on the day of said events, Yulia was always crowded by the attendees and bombarded with opinions, the women like eager puppies seeking treats. She was a beautiful and charismatic woman. People liked her. They wanted to be around her. They wanted to be her.

    Yulia didn¡¯t consider herself a vain person. She was simply aware of herself and her natural advantages. Ignoring the rampant admiration her presence inspired wouldn¡¯t do anyone any good, especially not herself. She¡¯d grown accustomed to the overflowing goodwill of the north. Was even flattered by it.

    However, managing it was tiring at times. She hoped that being in the south, where her family¡¯s name was more infamous than venerated, she could enjoy the party like any other guest, with the freedom to snoop and subtly interrogate as she needed.

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    The house had incredibly good sound insulation. With the door to the guest room closed, Yulia barely heard anything of the party but the moment she opened it, a wave of music and laughter hit her like a blow to the face. She came back to her senses quickly, closing the door before the noise could wake her son, but then she took a moment to simply enjoy the ambiance, closing her eyes as she let the noise wash over her. She could have enjoyed it for hours but left the door after a few minutes. There was nothing sadder than standing on the sidelines while others were having a good time.

    Yulia gasped as she entered the welcoming room, spellbound by the show playing out in the middle of the room. She recognized the use of the light affinity, but she¡¯d never seen it used in such a frivolous manner as crafting moving pictures. The light affinity was humanity¡¯s strongest weapon, not something meant for entertainment. Yet, despite the juvenile nature of the magic, there was unquestionable mastery behind it.

    A portrait was hard enough to paint, the human face full of detail that went unnoticed until an artist undertook the challenge of replicating it. She imagined doing so with math was several magnitudes more complicated than doing so with paint.

    Yet, whoever was creating the show had gone far beyond mere portraits. The people they depicted moved and emoted. The image was somewhat transparent but they and the environment they interacted with were flawless.

    There was no sound, but the show was accompanied by music. Earl, the young steward, played a violin at a frantic pace while a handsome man in the show fought a ferocious monster, an injured woman looking on with fear and hope.

    ¡°Coo.¡±

    She looked down and found Lou¡¯s imp staring up at her with four bright eyes. A thin glass was carefully held in its tail, and it extended it to her. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said while plucking the glass from the little servant. She¡¯d tasted the liquors Lou brought to the north and, while they were good, she wasn¡¯t a fan of hard drinks. The glass interested her because the liquid inside was clearly something other than the earthy shroom juice, an appetizing light pink instead of brown. The glass itself was the kind usually used for wine or juice, when children dined at a formal table, so she had high hopes.

    She wasn¡¯t disappointed. At the smallest sip, sweet, fruity delight coated her tongue while a warmth pooled in her gut. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s wonderful.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± Unbidden, knowledge of the drink, made by a half-elf of all things using fruits grown by Kierra, slipped into her mind with the comfortable ease of her foot sliding into a well-worn boot. She suddenly knew that the drinks were watered down, there was plenty more at the drinks table, and she also knew what other drinks she might like and what desserts would pair well with them. It happened in the blink of an eye and before she could say anything to the source of the insight, the imp had already scampered off, continuing her duties.

    ¡®Those creatures are terrifying,¡± she muttered to herself. It wasn¡¯t their mental affinity that unnerved her. Magic was just a tool and could be dangerous whether it was a greater or basic affinity being used. It was their competency that worried her. Against monsters amongst men, she could be assured that they would miss something somewhere, make some mistake she could capitalize on. The thought of having the succubi, who never missed a detail and had unparalleled powers of prediction, turned against her was a nightmare.

    Her gaze swept the crowd, unconcerned about the possibly rude gesture since everyone¡¯s attention was focused on the show. It didn¡¯t take long to find Lou or her sister, given they were seated next to each other on one of the couches. And they weren¡¯t alone.

    Four other women with strange features also sat with them, the same black ring, a tattoo she thought, signifying they were a group of some sort. She wasn¡¯t surprised to find Lou surrounded by young, beautiful women, their more¡­exotic features aside.

    She was surprised to find Alana in the middle of it, a pretty girl with large, fuzzy ears practically draped over her. It was a far cry from the serious, stoic sister she remembered and she was excited to examine the situation farther, if for no other reason than to tease Alana later, but she had more important matters to attend to first.

    Judging from what little she heard, Lou didn¡¯t have a great reputation, but if Yulia was going to help with the negotiations, she needed to know exactly how bad it was. She also needed to know about the guilds, the lord of the city, and the people he governed.

    Thankfully, the party had drawn an eclectic crowd from all walks of the city. There was no better group to mine information from. She decided to start with a familiar face, spotting Alyssa standing next to a young man with dark hair who was paying more attention to her than the show and an older man that was amusingly invested in the story, hands balling into fists when the beast knocked the hero to the ground and the hunter had to fend off its snapping teeth with the scabbard of his sword.

    Yulia reflexively finger-combed her hair before fixing a pleasant smile to her face and making her way over.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-47 (Yulia)

    The party-goers were easy to mine information from. Endless glasses of relatively strong drinks combined with a strange mixture that supposedly filled one with energy, something that sounded suspiciously like a stamina-boosting potion that a few reckless knights used during long campaigns but those weren¡¯t made in a noblewoman¡¯s kitchen, left the crowd inebriated enough to have loose lips while alert enough to accurately recall information.

    Better, everyone was more than willing to talk about their hostess. And what interesting tales they told. Lou and Kierra had been at the Grand Hall for a scant year yet had accomplished many things, some praiseworthy, some that begged belief, and some that were outright ludicrous.

    She was happy to know that Lou¡¯s problem with the crown wasn¡¯t a fledgling thing. The animosity ran deep, born of the noblewoman¡¯s strange aversion to members of the royal family. Not that she had any reason to care for her king. The crown had done nothing for Lou and, for some reason, had no idea how to handle her. Those in power weren¡¯t even making attempts to understand her.

    She didn¡¯t know how things worked in the south but if the king had any competence, he would have Lou under surveillance. And if not him, there should have been at least one sensible person at his side that would do it for him. For several reasons, starting from the moment she returned to Harvest with an elven bride. If Yulia was the king¡¯s aide, she would have insisted on scrutinizing Lou, and perhaps her immediate family, for that alone.

    She also would have insisted on an investigation into the circumstances behind Lou¡¯s kidnapping. It was beyond ridiculous that the crown had let the matter of an insane master caster simply drop. According to Lou, the man had died in a summoning gone wrong, putting an end to the threat, but the situation was curious, at the very least.

    Master casters were no fools, yet the actions of Lou¡¯s kidnapper was nothing but foolish. Why, by all the ancestors, would a man take victims from the King¡¯s Road? Especially a noblewoman whose family might have the connections and power to investigate her disappearance. It was a harsh truth that was impolite to say out loud but if he had targeted young women from out of the way villages, disguising his actions as those of a bandit, no one would know about their disappearance or even care.

    On the other hand, if he wanted noble victims, he would have been better off hunting in a major city. Not the capital, with the looming presence of the royal knights, but any of the other major cities. Perhaps Rosentheim, where the people were known to be wealthy, happy, and generally less inclined to martial matters. The knight order sponsored by the Rosefields, the Iron Roses, dueled to first blood, a practice that would see them laughed out of the north.

    So, there were plenty of better places to find his victims but the master caster, a man of some intelligence, had chosen to pick a victim at random on the King¡¯s Road. For a summoning, an art he had no interest in for all his long life. An art looked down on by the kingdom¡¯s magic community, yet the educated man had believed that it was the key to reversing the flow of time and giving him eternal youth or some nonsense.

    Perhaps the man had gone insane, but it was hard to believe that someone could be so insane as to believe something more ridiculous than a children¡¯s tale but sane enough to plot and execute a scheme to enact it. And even if he had straddled the delicate balance of mental stability and been in charge of his actions, summoning wasn¡¯t an art one merely picked up or dabbled in. From what Yulia had learned from Lou, it was incredibly demanding, physically, financially, and on one¡¯s time.

    Yulia refused to believe that a man in such a compromised mental state could have devised a stable summoning, no matter that it failed to do what he intended. She doubted he had come to summoning as a solution on his own either.

    Which begged several questions. Who had introduced the mad and desperate master caster to summoning, no doubt feeding his false expectations? Had said mysterious person directed the caster to snatch his victims from the King¡¯s Road? Had Lou been targeted specifically? And of course, the biggest question, why?

    All things someone should be investigating. If she was the king¡¯s aide, she¡¯d also be interested in the story behind the fall of the Grimoires.

    Gordon had the most fascinating story and was the most eager to tell it. One day, he¡¯s practically a prince, his family well-respected, or at least feared, throughout the capital. The Grimoires had money, power, influence, and his father served as a royal adviser. While sipping brown liquor, the young man slurred about what he called the good times. When people bowed and scraped at his feet. When he could go where he pleased, when he pleased. When he could have any woman he wanted. When his future was bright and without limits.

    Yulia habitually tried to cheer him up. She had heard about the scandal surrounding his family, even in the north, but it wasn¡¯t all bad, she assured him. He was young, handsome, and reasonably talented. He had contracted a succubus, and she knew just how much an asset one of those creatures could be. His family¡¯s reputation was terrible but the death of his father and his attempts to distance the rest of the family by changing their name was a good step, if a little drastic.

    He¡¯d laughed at her.

    When she asked why he was so grim, so sure that things wouldn¡¯t work out for him, all he would mutter was that things had gone to the Abyss after his father visited the Tome estate and that Lou was all manner of things a lady shouldn¡¯t repeat. She tried to press him on what he meant, and more about Lou, but he waved her off, growling like an irritated animal when she kept asking questions. She eventually gave up and left him to drown in his drink.

    Making her rounds around the rest of the room, Yulia discovered that Lou had a reputation as a lecher and a ruthless tyrant, but both were greatly exaggerated. Despite being a relentless flirt, something the redheaded instructor complained about in heated whispers, no one could name a single relationship or fling outside of her household. According to Kierra, who wore an amused smirk while relaying the information, Lou had yet to be intimate with Talia, her supposed mistress and latest romantic partner. That hardly sounded like a lecherous beast.

    As for being a tyrant, that was a similar exaggeration. William, her teammate during the qualifiers who spoke with his eyes firmly glued to his shoes, described her as a bit of a bully, but only toward people who annoyed her. In general, Lou was civilized and agreeable. When it came to women, she was downright generous. Despite all her strength, she was reluctant to fight, and she only fought those who attacked her first. Truly a terror to frighten children.

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    Everything she heard, everything she saw, brought Yulia to a few conclusions. The first was about Lou¡¯s personality. The woman, for all her strength, for all the rumors circulating about her, for all her outrageous feats, was a complete softie. A plush bear. Harmless as a kitten.

    Oh, she was capable of violence and could deal out death with the best the north had to offer but she wasn¡¯t a creature of war. Yulia was pretty sure, willing enough to gamble the future on it, that if Lou had the option to never raise her fist in anger, she¡¯d take it without a second thought. Some people loved the thrill of combat, the exhilaration of spilling a creature¡¯s blood. Victorians were raised in a culture that normalized it, made it as common as snow and gray skies. Lou didn¡¯t have the nature or conditioning to be a soldier, merely putting on the mask when she needed to.

    The second conclusion was about Lou¡¯s motivations. The noblewoman wasn¡¯t motivated by wealth or status, like most of the kingdom. She didn¡¯t care much for tradition. Summoning was dear to her, but it was nothing she¡¯d wage war for.

    There was only one thing Lou seemed to care about. Love. Particularly, her lovers, as no matter how many people she asked, they didn¡¯t know anything about her family. Not even with Lou¡¯s cousin in the room.

    Lou reminded Yulia of a young girl. Or perhaps a young boy. Maybe a mix of the two. The key was that her dreams were adolescent in nature. She wanted to live happily ever after in domestic bliss, the most common dream among young girls, surrounded by beautiful, adoring women, what Yulia understood to be a common dream of young boys.

    Her strength wasn¡¯t to protect herself, defend the kingdom from threats, or lift her family to greater heights. No. She had trained and magically cheated her way to the strength of twenty men so she could sweep her wife off her feet in the bedroom. That¡¯s it. It¡¯d almost be romantic if it weren¡¯t so ridiculous.

    So. The most powerful woman Yulia had ever seen, physically, who seemed to be immortal, without mentioning her wife¡¯s pure physical affinity, was a complete pushover when it came to the women she loved. The female equivalent of Yulia¡¯s husband.

    One of the qualities she loved most about the man was that he knew when to let himself be led for his own good. A crude person, or her sister that was determined to think the worst of her, would call such a thing manipulative but Yulia didn¡¯t see it that way. Her marriage was a partnership. She trusted him in matters of war, never questioning him when he discussed strategies for the campaigns or adjustments to his men¡¯s training. And he trusted her when it came to social matters and housekeeping. Whatever¡­influence she exerted over his actions was in his, their family¡¯s, and Victory¡¯s best interest.

    Alana was in the exact same position, with an even more influential wife, pending, and Yulia had no doubt Lou intended to make good on that promise, but did she do anything with the resources at her disposal? The opportunities practically throwing themselves at her? What did Alana plan to do with what amounted to the sharpest blade in the kingdom at her at her beck and call?

    Sit on a couch while a girl with furry ears pawed all over her while several more women swarmed her wife to be. Yulia tried not to be judgmental, as the north saw all kinds of relationships. Having multiple lovers, or even conditional lovers, wasn¡¯t unusual when spouses went off to war for a whole season with good chances that they wouldn¡¯t return. The duke himself had three wives.

    Yulia would never approve of a harem in her house. Perhaps it was a selfish view, but she saw love as a finite thing. She believed someone could love multiple people, but she didn¡¯t believe anyone could love equally. More importantly, love required care that couldn¡¯t be given to multiple people.

    Her views were formed from watching her mother¡¯s unhappy marriage and cemented by her own experiences. Growing up, she had many admirers. A boy first confessed undying love to her when she was fifteen winters old. She couldn¡¯t picture his face well, given half of it was wrapped in bandages, half of his mouth turned up in a pained smile as he presented a titan¡¯s tooth to her, hoping the war trophy would impress her.

    It hadn¡¯t, but his passion had, even though she didn¡¯t entertain it. She didn¡¯t think it was wrong, enjoying the admiration of others, being showered in their care and surprised by their tokens of affection. Perhaps it was selfish, her sister certainly seemed to think so, but she also hated when that affection waned. It was particularly bad when she was younger.

    Despite being a James, she was a useless fighter. She had no interest in war whatsoever and wouldn¡¯t think about it twice if it wasn¡¯t necessary. Yulia didn¡¯t have much of a talent for anything. She loved art, really all things bright and colorful, but that didn¡¯t extend to creating it. Even her ice gardens were a mere idea. Someone else had brought it to fruition. She didn¡¯t like working with her hands and didn¡¯t have a head for contemplation, thoughts easily distracted and swayed.

    Her only gifts were a pretty face and a affable personality. One drew people to her and the other made them enjoy speaking with her. As her husband once said, she put people¡¯s hearts at ease. It wasn¡¯t much in a world full of knights and titans but it¡¯s what she had. And she had been desperate to keep it, carefully doling out her smiles, hugs, and kind words.

    She¡¯d accepted her lot in life but that didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t long for a different kind of power. It¡¯s what made her choose her husband. In the end, soothing hearts wouldn¡¯t change the north. That required strength, the more of it the better. The Northern Devil had wanted love and she¡¯d needed a sword. He was a simple field commander now but, in a decade, or two? He¡¯d be worthy of being a duke of the north.

    But Lou¡­the sloppily smiling noblewoman thoroughly enjoying her party could be a queen if she only gave the slightest damn. From what Yulia knew of her abilities, she could waltz into the palace and snatch the king from his throne without anyone being able to stop her. Not a single person. And from their conversations while on the road, she was under the impression that it was a purely physical advantage. Despite being an acolyte of the Hall, Lou hadn¡¯t dedicated herself to her magic. Once she replaced some of her frivolous tendencies with a bit of discipline, she¡¯d be a true monster. An unrivaled sword.

    With a few glasses of the delicious wine in her system and in general solitude, her presence going mostly unnoticed with the crowd absorbed by the show, her mind considered the possibilities. What such a sword could do in her hands. Ancestors, her traitorous mind could easily imagine it. But they were silly flights of fancy. She wouldn¡¯t trade her family for anything, not to mention she and Lou were completely incompatible.

    No, she would have to make do with being a sister-in-law. And if she wanted to reap the benefits of the relationship, and help Lou in the process, she wasn¡¯t completely selfish, the only way was to go through her sister. Which meant repairing her relationship with Alana.

    Something she¡¯d been trying to do for years, her efforts amounting to nothing. But they were different people, especially Alana. Perhaps now, united in purpose and surrounded by good cheer, Yulia could finally melt the ice between them. She would have made the journey for that alone. Hopefully, together, they could do some good for the people of Quest. Then, Yulia could indirectly point the sword of Lou at the north. She had big plans, for all of them.

    The more wine she drank and the longer she stood in the vibrant air of the party, the more outlandish those plans became and the more determined she was to see them come to fruition. So determined that she convinced herself that perhaps her usual subtle measures needed to be set aside in favor of more¡­direct means.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-48

    After the demonstration of my abilities, Rolly volunteers to entertain the crowd with an impromptu show. An impressive display, I¡¯m sure, but I only catch glimpses. My attention is absorbed by the ladies of the Temple.

    Shake mostly, who also ignores the show in favor of watching me. She sits to my left, on one end of the couch we¡¯ve monopolized, a large arm thrown over the back of the furniture as she lounges into the plush cushions.

    Cloud sits on my other side, leaning into me and adding her own opinions to our conversation when she feels like it. Mostly, my friend leans into me. I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s a simple demand for skinship or she¡¯s trying to push me into her compatriot, the two of them working together to get closer to me like wolves cooperating to bring down prey too difficult for them to handle alone.

    Mouse-tail, who has yet to introduce herself, leans against the arm of couch, watching Rolly¡¯s show, her tail casually wrapped around Shake¡¯s neck. The jumpy woman constantly makes contact with the larger woman, just like a small animal seeking shelter from a bigger, stronger member of the pack.

    The way Shake doesn¡¯t react to the thin tail caressing her or the small touches on her shoulders and the side of her face tells me that it¡¯s common place but there¡¯s nothing suggestive about them. At least not overtly. Makes me wonder what the big woman¡¯s role as a leader entails. Affection like they display is rarely associated with a figure of authority.

    Ruby, the last of the ladies from the Temple, is seated next to Cloud. Or rather, she¡¯s half-seated, doing her best impersonation of an eager puppy as she tries to climb onto Alana¡¯s lap. I think I was her original target, but Cloud got in her way. Afterwards, fox ears went back to pestering Alana, something she¡¯s been doing for a while.

    From what I¡¯ve picked up from their conversation, she likes Alana¡¯s smell. At first, I thought she was smelling me, which she is, but she also likes Alana¡¯s actual scent. Some nonsense about earth and vanilla. Completely ridiculous. Underneath me, fragrant soap, and the other scents clinging to her, she smells of sunshine, like sheets dried in the summer sun, mixed with a musky scent all animals, including people, have, everyone having their own distinct variation that makes them identifiable. Whatever nose Ruby¡¯s using is defective. She should have a word with her melder.

    I enjoy our conversation, both for what it is and what it covers. In-between discussing building a body from creatures out of this world, the five of us, six when Alana deigns to do more than push aside Ruby when she gets a little too handsy, hold a secret conversation. One without words but spoken with certain looks, lingering touches, and proximity. I¡¯m pretty sure that eventually, someone¡¯s going to come right out and say what we¡¯re all hinting at, the ladies of the Temple aren¡¯t exactly shy and I threw out my shame months ago, but for now, we¡¯re enjoying the tension brought on by expectation.

    Five women, huh. That¡¯s an orgy, anyway you look at it. A fantasy most people have, I¡¯m sure. I won¡¯t believe anyone that says otherwise. Several attractive women, or men for those with that kind of taste, in one bed. A feast for the eyes and ears. A riot of sensations.

    It¡¯s amazing enough what a single pair of hands can do. I can¡¯t imagine what five pairs can do working together. The room filled with a whole chorus of moans, lusty voices singing together like a theater choir. The smell of sex so thick I can taste it in-between tasting them. Ugh. The fluttering in my stomach imagining it is almost painful.

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    I don¡¯t know why the thought excites me so much. Truthfully, as much as I admire women, I am perfectly content with my wives, one pending. If Kierra or Alana told me that they never wanted me to so much as breathe on another woman, I¡¯d be satisfied. I fully believe I¡¯m capable of loving more than one person romantically but even if I fell for another woman, I wouldn¡¯t pursue another relationship if it ruined what I have now.

    However, I¡¯m lucky enough to be married to ladies as perverted as I am, even if Alana is still in a bit of denial. They don¡¯t mind so I indulge. I indulge in carnal pleasures but not to get off. My sex life isn¡¯t lacking at home in any way. It¡¯s about how it makes me feel.

    Being desired is¡­well. And there is no desire quite like being lusted after. Nothing as¡­primal. If a woman invited me to dinner to discuss the finer points of a summoning circle, I¡¯d be flattered, sure, but someone like Cloud staring at me with a look that makes it easy to imagine her ripping my pants off is something else. Just like the Herbanacle, it warms me up with a pleasant heat that I want to soak in like it¡¯s a warm bath, letting it seep deep into my bones. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever tire of it.

    I¡¯m eager to get to the main event but I won¡¯t rush anything. It¡¯s interesting, watching the way Shake guides the others, holding them at bay until she¡¯s good and ready to make her move. Something about that easy confidence that says she knows exactly where the night is going and is fine taking her time getting there is making me melt a little on the inside.

    She¡¯s in the middle of discussing some of her duties within the Sanctuary, when something grabs my attention. Yulia squeezes into the opposite end of the couch and her sister, glass in hand. Judging from the flush in her cheeks, it isn¡¯t her first drink, but it might need to be her last. She must be drunk to be so forward with Alana, who immediately frowns.

    ¡°You look comfortable,¡± Yulia says teasingly, smiling at Ruby who is halfway sprawled over Alana¡¯s chest. To my amusement, Ruby looks at her curiously for a moment before turning away, pushing against Alana¡¯s hand as she tries to nuzzle my future wife¡¯s modest chest. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for such a social animal.¡±

    Alana groans. ¡°Was that supposed to be a joke? If it was, it¡¯s terrible.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it was a little funny.¡±

    ¡°Maybe a little offensive. Not funny.¡± Ruby opens her mouth, likely to say she¡¯s not offended, nothing delights a member of the Temple more than being compared to their brethren, but Alana shushes her by covering her mouth with a hand.

    ¡°I was wondering if you¡¯d like to take a walk in the garden with me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m watching the show.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°Because you keep talking.¡±

    The northern rose sighs and takes a long gulp of her drink. With a soft coo, Bell appears at her feet when Yulia empties her glass and hands her another drink. Yulia takes it with a soft word of thanks, taking a smaller sip as the imp scampers off. ¡°You can be a titan of a bitch sometimes, Ally.¡±

    The insult brings me up short, ruining my attempts to listen in on their conversation discretely as I turn all the way around, jaw dropped. It¡¯s not just that she insulted Alana. It¡¯s the way she did it.

    Till now, she¡¯s always, hm, I don¡¯t know the right word for it. Simpered? Begged? I can¡¯t imagine the Yulia desperate to reconnect with her sister speaking to Alana with a harsh tone. And her tone is definitely harsh, thick with annoyance and frustration.

    Alana seems just as surprised, looking at her sister with wide eyes and parted lips. Of course, the surprise only lasts for a moment. As the insulted party, offense quickly overcomes every other emotion and she glares at her sister. ¡°¡­what are you doing?¡±

    ¡°What you want. You always think I¡¯m speaking in riddles, trying to pull people¡¯s strings. Hiding behind a smile, right?¡±

    ¡°Are you saying you don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°I would say that I am considerate enough to choose my words carefully and that there is nothing wrong with expressing yourself in a way that doesn¡¯t hurt people¡¯s feelings or ruins your reputation. You are the only person I¡¯ve ever met who can¡¯t appreciate that. So, here we are.¡±

    Yulia raises a hand in a mocking gesture of surrender. ¡°I bow to your wishes, dear sister, and will spar with you, throwing words like knives. Hopefully, now, we can make some progress.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-49

    Saints, it¡¯s like watching a road accident. I can almost hear the squealing horses and splintering wood in the background as Alana moves Ruby off her lap, the young woman actually obeying this time, no doubt able to sense the trouble coming like the rest of us. The two sisters face one another, Yulia relaxed aside from her tense shoulders and Alana¡¯s jaw clenched tightly.

    ¡°What I want,¡± my knight hisses between grit teeth, ¡°is for you to leave me alone but since you are incapable of that, I¡¯ll have to settle for this. Fine. Let¡¯s get the truth out there. Where should we start? The real reasons you¡¯re here instead of in the north, waiting for your husband that is probably risking his life at his very moment? Or do you want to go back to the beginning?¡±

    ¡°Oh, the start of course. The very start, since you apparently blame me for every misfortune you¡¯ve ever experienced. Including being born in that closet of a home you spent your childhood in, raised by that harpy of a mother. I suppose that was my fault too, never mind that I was a child still having accidents in her pants, ancestors spare me.¡±

    Oh, saints. She¡¯s not holding back and Alana looks ready to slap her. A sharp tugging on my pants leg draws my attention down to Bell, who is holding a large bowl of crispy treats in her hands. I quickly grab it, crunching down on a salty snack as I turn back to the show, one far more interesting than Rolly¡¯s moving pictures.

    Shake reaches a hand over my shoulder and grabs a fistful for herself, Cloud quick to follow. I glare at both but can¡¯t be bothered to stop them, unwilling to interrupt the family drama.

    ¡°I thought we weren¡¯t playing word games. Stop being ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who needs to stop being ridiculous. Go on, Ally. Unburden yourself. Why don¡¯t you tell me, in detail, what crimes I¡¯ve committed against you? Because I can¡¯t think of one. Not that it¡¯s stopped me from apologizing for them, over and over.¡±

    ¡°You want a list?¡± Alana scoffs. ¡°Fine. Here¡¯s your list. You made every aspect of my childhood much harder than it needed to be. I tried to connect with the family but every time I visited the house, you were there. Following me around, getting in the way. I practically had to beat you off with a stick to get a moment of peace. And when I finally got the message through your thick skull, you pouted and sulked, making me out to be the villain. No one was ever nice to me in that house, but it was only after your temper tantrums that they were nasty.¡±

    ¡°Really? That¡¯s what you¡¯re going with?¡±

    ¡°Are you going to deny it?¡±

    Yulia takes a sip of her drink. ¡°Oh, no. We¡¯re being honest and open with each other, aren¡¯t we? So. Let¡¯s talk about the fact that everyone was mean to you. Which was terrible and I¡¯m sorry you had to go through that. But it was not my fault. I was a child. My feelings were hurt. I cried. That is all I did.

    ¡°They weren¡¯t fake tears meant to motivate a conspiracy to ostracize you. If anyone did such a thing, it was my mother. Do you think the servants would have the audacity to look down on a James daughter if they didn¡¯t have the explicit, if unspoken, permission of someone important? You and I both know how happy she was to have a bastard child threatening the position of her own children.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. Nothing is your fault, is it? You were the cause, but the consequences aren¡¯t yours to hold. How dare I put any weight on those fragile shoulders of yours?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be sarcastic. What could I have done? Truly, tell me.¡±

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    ¡°Did you even try?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I tried. I talked to them. I talked to you. As much as I adored you back then and was eager to have a sisterly relationship, my relentless efforts to become closer was to protect you, you idiot. If you were right beside me, the servants would have backed off and my admirers wouldn¡¯t have been so hostile. You pushing me away caused you far more grief.¡±

    Alana practically growls. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t need to be sheltered by you to live my life.¡±

    ¡°Again, is it my fault the world isn¡¯t fair? It¡¯d be wonderful if we could all live in peace, beholden to nothing and no one, but that¡¯s not how life works. Every decision has consequences. You distanced yourself from your family and that made you vulnerable. You think you were targeted because of me? Maybe that had something to do with it but it¡¯s just as likely that it was because of you. Your circumstances.

    ¡°A girl just like them, who grew up as a servant to a whore mother, discovers a light affinity and is suddenly a long-lost James daughter? They had to be drowning in envy. But no. It couldn¡¯t be that you were bullied because children, ancestors adults too, can be petty bastards. Let¡¯s blame everyone¡¯s actions on the older sister that did nothing but try to be nice and make your life better, despite you fighting me every step!¡±

    At this point, Alana is shocked into silence, but Yulia doesn¡¯t let up, taking a long drink from her glass before starting back in. ¡°And since we¡¯re taking the chance to be honest, let¡¯s discuss the real reason behind your animosity. Your jealousy.¡±

    I wince as Alana hisses, ¡°My jealousy?!¡±

    ¡°I do understand. We¡¯re¡ª"

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand a damn thing,¡± Alana snaps, cutting her off. A hand twitches near her waist, fingers grasping for her missing sword. I¡¯m a little nervous where this is headed if Alana already wants to stab her, or worse, but I don¡¯t dare intervene. Something tells me this has been a long time coming. And Alana can¡¯t do too much damage with her bare hands.

    Wait. How much time has she spent with Kierra?

    ¡­this might be dangerous.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    Bell, ever in tune with our needs, appears at Alana¡¯s feet. Thankfully holding a glass of Herbanacle instead of a dagger. However, Alana refuses, sending the imp scampering off with a foot as she faces her sister. ¡°You know what? I tried. I really fucking tried. Told myself that I¡¯d leave the past in the past and try to be decent since you might actually be useful for once but that isn¡¯t enough for you, is it? Everything has to be how Yulianna wants it, when she wants it.

    ¡°Fine! Let¡¯s be honest with each other. I¡¯ve never been jealous of you in my life. Your position, maybe, but I felt the same for plenty of other people. But you?¡± Her scoff is full of so much disdain that Yulia can¡¯t hide her offense, frowning prettily.

    ¡°What is there to be jealous of? What are you, besides a pretty face? A brat, that¡¯s what. One that throws a tantrum when she doesn¡¯t get what she wants. You say you want to help people but really, you want everyone to know you¡¯ve helped them and worship the north¡¯s rose. You can¡¯t exist without someone kissing your ass every couple of minutes, can you?¡±

    ¡°Incredible. It isn¡¯t enough I be good-natured and even-tempered. I see now. I must be a saint to be redeemed in your eyes.¡±

    ¡°You could be every saint reborn and fate¡¯s gift to the world and I wouldn¡¯t want anything to do with you. What I don¡¯t understand is why that¡¯s a problem. Is the world going to end if one person doesn¡¯t sing your praises?¡±

    ¡°Will the world end if you at least try to treat me like family?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I treat you a lot better than family. You¡¯re sleeping in my home. That was a privilege I had to earn.¡±

    ¡°For someone that bore the full brunt of our family¡¯s cold traditions, you sure are eager to keep them going. I find it disturbing that you are only openly hostile to me, the one person that welcomed you with open arms. Perhaps you like being treated like shit? It would explain where I went wrong.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand. I have issues with all our family. The difference between them and you is that I respect them too. Except Zach, but he doesn¡¯t constantly bother me so we get along fine. You should take notes.¡±

    I can¡¯t help the big smile on my face as they snipe at each other. It¡¯s no surprise that Yulia knows how to make her words cut deep but Alana gives as good as she gets, showing an admirable, at least to me, capacity for pettiness and hurling childish, and not so childish, insults. It may not be exactly positive but they¡¯re certainly opening up to each other. Maybe for the first time.

    And despite the poison they¡¯re hurling, their voices haven¡¯t risen in volume. They may be angry but they¡¯re controlling themselves, which gives me hope that this will be a constructive conversation.

    But it¡¯s abruptly interrupted by someone who makes no effort to keep their voice quiet.

    ¡°BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-50

    If the confrontation between the two sisters is a road accident, the sudden exclamation is like a giant ball of fire launched into a village in the middle of the night. A surprise assault that catches people off-guard, the explosion and bright light drawing attention. It takes a moment for the shock to fade and the horror to set in.

    While Alana and Yulia hurled insults at one another, they controlled themselves, keeping their voices down aside from the odd shout or curse. They drew a few glances, a lot of people in the room having better than average senses, but most of the room remained focused on Rolly¡¯s show as it nears its emotional finale. But everyone notices the shout, over a dozen gazes turning toward the drinks table.

    Lane, the source of the distraction, is standing with hunched shoulders. I can¡¯t see his face from my seat but I¡¯m sure it¡¯s something spectacular. I can see Alyssa over his shoulder, watching him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Beside her, Jack, her scruffy hunter friend, is frozen, a drink half-raised.

    Of the three, Jack recovers first, shaking his head as he finishes taking his drink. Amusingly, Lane is the next to recover. ¡°Are you going to say something?¡± he says, his voice mixed with frustration, anger, and a hint of pleading. I cringe hearing it, feeling a strangely profound sympathy.

    Saints, I hope this isn¡¯t my fault. I encouraged him to confess but I meant he should take her for a private stroll through the gardens and risk his life to give her a flower. Maybe recite some bad poetry. Risk his life a second time and sneak a kiss. Not scream out his feelings in the middle of the party and emotionally bludgeon her with them. This is so awkward Iwant to bury myself in a hole.

    ¡°You throw a great party sister,¡± Cloud whispers and I slap her shoulder, urging her to shut up.

    At his prodding, Alyssa finally reacts. Her eyes flick around the room before she grimaces. Clearly, she doesn¡¯t want to do this in front of an audience. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t talk about this here,¡± she says, trying to spare him but Lane is either too drunk or too dense to understand her intentions.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re rejecting me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I said.¡±

    Lane guzzles down the drink in his hand before slamming the glass onto the table. To my horror, Fen, with the same grace and lack of presence as a leaf blown by a gentle breeze, slips past him, collecting the glass and putting a full one in its place. It¡¯s artful and devious. The last thing he needs is more to drink but he¡¯s already shoved his foot so far into his mouth it¡¯s coming out of his ass. There¡¯s no salvaging this.

    All that¡¯s left is to enjoy the show, us nosy onlookers glad that we¡¯re not one of the actors.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to say it, just say it. Better than you stringing me along.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you didn¡¯t know how I felt,¡± Lane says bitterly. ¡°I was clear about my feelings and you brushed me off. And I dealt with that. Thought if I stayed close, if you got to know me as someone other than a student, I could change your mind. But you weren¡¯t interested in me. Just in what I could do for you, right?¡±

    The instructor takes a deep, fortifying breath. Saints bless her, I swear I can see her wrapping herself in her self-control, figurative chains to keep from torching the ceiling again. Then she slips on a pair of figurative soft gloves. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me what I knew, what I think, or what I¡¯m going to do. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. Because I didn¡¯t know. You never said anything!¡±

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    ¡°For saints¡¯ sake woman, I moved into your house. We lived together for almost a year!¡±

    ¡°I thought I was doing a student and a friend with scant few crowns in his coin purse a favor. How was I supposed to know it was a statement or something?¡±

    ¡°Men don¡¯t move in with women without certain expectations!¡±

    ¡°Fuck your expectations! Is that some southern bullshit? You think soldiers give a shit what¡¯s between their legs when they¡¯re freezing their asses off in some winter hellscape and a night raid destroys half the tents? Ancestors, no. Only thing on their minds is keeping warm. That¡¯s the onlything that was on my mind when I let you stay with me, not letting a friend freeze his ass off at night.¡±

    It¡¯s Alyssa¡¯s turn to drain her drink. Then she drains a second one, randomly grabbing a wine and chugging it like it¡¯s water, before leveling a threatening finger at his face.

    ¡°Don¡¯t put this on me when you¡¯re the one who didn¡¯t say a fucking word. What, you thought you would use some societal expectation titan shit to confess without confessing, didn¡¯t you? If I notice your feelings and respond to them, all¡¯s good, and if I don¡¯t, it¡¯s fine, you never put yourself in front of the sword to get cut down, huh? Or maybe you¡¯d laugh it off, haha, I¡¯m the crazy bitch reading too much into it.¡±

    I really want to stand up and circle around to see Lane¡¯s expression. It must be something amazing. ¡°I was being subtle. Careful. Sure, I never outright declared my feelings, but I never hid how I felt. I was trying to be considerate. Not push you too hard. I figured, after I moved in, you¡¯d either ask me to go or ask me to stay. But you never said anything.¡±

    He takes a shuddering breath. ¡°You¡¯re not an ignorant girl, b¡ªAlyssa. Maybe you didn¡¯t notice anything the first month. Or the second. But the fourth? The seventh? The tenth? I¡­damn, I knew you didn¡¯t think much of me, but because you never sent me away, I thought¡­there was a chance¡­¡±

    Alyssa lets out an impressive litany of curses before pinching the bridge of her nose. Her hand drops with a sigh. ¡°If it were anyone else, I might have thought there was something to it. But Lane, I thought it was a family thing. Like you saw me as an older sister.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡±

    ¡°Is this the time for jokes?¡±

    ¡°How could you think I saw you as a sister?¡±

    ¡°How? Maybe because you never made a pass at me¡ª"

    ¡°I¡¯m a gentleman!¡±

    A laugh almost bursts out of me, a hand clamping over my lips to smother it. Shake doubles over as she struggles to contain snickers while Cloud shakes her head. It¡¯s not the sentiment that fills me with humor, really, it¡¯s quite admirable, but the way he says it. As if his so-called gentlemanly behavior was the pinnacle of courtship and he is astounded it led to misunderstandings instead of ensuring the redhead fell for him.

    He sounds genuinely bewildered, which is hilarious to me. I don¡¯t have the most experience courting women but even I could guess that indirect methods aren¡¯t the way to go when it comes to the fiery instructor. Besides that, she¡¯s a Victorian. The north doesn¡¯t do subtle.

    ¡°Or maybe because I¡¯ve known you since you were a brat.¡±

    ¡°Brat?! I joined your class when I was eighteen!¡±

    ¡°Like I said, a brat. I¡¯m a decade and a half older than you.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you never gave me a chance? I don¡¯t care about age.¡±

    Alyssa mutters under her breath, ¡°You¡¯re going to make me say it.¡± Then, much louder, ¡°Lane. I never thought about anything romantic between us because you¡¯re not my type. At all. You¡¯re a good friend and I think of you as a brother but never anything more.¡±

    Saints. The whole room is deathly quiet. Even Rolly¡¯s show stops, the accompanying music abruptly cutting out. In the silence, I swear I can hear a heart breaking.

    ¡°I¡­see.¡± Lane swallows. ¡°Figured.¡±

    ¡°Hey¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t. Being nice makes it worse. This is good. Should have cleared the air years ago.¡±

    His fake positivity doesn¡¯t fool anyone. Probably not even himself. Alyssa¡¯s perceptive enough not to point it out, letting the poor man hold onto a few shreds of dignity as he walks away, drink in hand. She watches him leave with narrowed eyes before sharing her glare with the rest of the room. ¡°Show¡¯s over, get back to your own business!¡±

    The room collectively turns away from her, Rolly¡¯s show resuming with Earl quick to accompany it.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-51

    ¡°Saints preserve him,¡± I mutter. After Lane¡¯s dramatic exit, the room goes about its business, but tension lingers. Watching a tragedy unfold is uncomfortable, even if it has no bearing on my life. I hate that he had his heart crushed, I feel for the man, I do, but another part of me thinks it¡¯s his just desserts. What did he think he was doing, ambushing her like that? In a crowded room, no less. I can only guess that he wasn¡¯t thinking.

    And another, terrible part of me is happy he was rejected. Thinks he¡¯s not good enough for the redhead, despite knowing next to nothing about the man and thinking well of him after we talked in the garden. It¡¯s sad but they don¡¯t match my ideal when it comes to romance.

    My lusty brain that craves the sight of beautiful women embracing one another is delighted that another beautiful woman isn¡¯t going to be spoiled by the hairier sex. At least, not in front of my eyes. I hope. There¡¯s still plenty of opportunity for the instructor to find company for the night. Hm. She never mentioned what her type is, just that Lane isn¡¯t it.

    ¡°If Alyssa had to take someone here to bed, who do you think it would be?¡± I ask the air.

    ¡°If she has any taste, you,¡± Cloud immediately reassures me, flashing a wide grin when I look her way. What a friend.

    ¡°That is the name of the redhead?¡± Shake makes a thoughtful noise when I nod. ¡°The moon and sun are forever intertwined, chasing each other across the sky.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°People want what they do not have and opposites are drawn to one another. She is older, experienced, and aggressive. She would do well with a partner that is younger, a little naive, and submissive.¡±

    ¡°¡­like the man she just sent packing?¡±

    ¡°People also rarely choose what is good for them, instead running toward the opposite of what they need.¡±

    ¡°So, she needs someone like Lane but she¡¯s going to choose the opposite? Someone just like her?¡±

    ¡°If I were to guess.¡±

    ¡°Then she likes people like herself. Older, experienced, aggressive. That sounds like my wife.¡±

    ¡°Or perhaps the friend she brought along.¡±

    I look at the scruffy hunter and wince, my lusty brain cringing at the image the thought conjures. ¡°Never mind that.¡± In the end, Alyssa¡¯s romantic pursuits are her own business. Unless she propositions me. I¡¯d hardly refuse her, tonight of all nights. ¡°A more important consideration. I need something else to keep my guests entertained.¡±

    ¡°That is easy.¡± Shake stands from the couch, drawing my eyes as she stretches. ¡°I think it is time to roast the pig.¡±

    -

    Never would I have imagined roasting a pig to be so complicated. Sure, I expected things to involve a little more than popping the hunk of meat in an oven given its size, but the whole ceremony involved is shocking. The ladies, and single gentlemen, from the Temple enthusiastically carry their meat out to the garden, followed by Geneva and Bell, along with a few members of the crowd, drawn by the interesting sight.

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    The members of the Temple, the Templetees heh, bow their heads and, I think, pray over the massive hog as Geneva tears into it with sharp claws, expertly gutting the thing.

    While she works, Earl comes out of the building with a bag of spices I can smell at a distance. Gajin is the next to come running, pushing a wheelbarrow in front of him, a shovel inside it. As my succubus continues to prepare the meat, Earl shovels the unwanted parts into the wheelbarrow and my gardener disappears with it, hurrying deeper into the garden. I don¡¯t think too deeply about what he¡¯s going to do with that stuff.

    Once the pig is cleaned up, Geneva rubs the spices all over it and the Templetees help her push the spit through its enormous body. Then it is hoisted onto two poles of solid earth with y-shaped ends. Earl appears with firewood, Bell quickly forming a wide pit for him to dump it into. The magical flames that set them alight make the Templetees cheer, but I have my doubts. There¡¯s no way that enormous thing is going to be cooked all the way through from that flame, right?

    [Of course not, my summoner. I imagine they are accustomed to eating their meat crispy on the outside and pink on the inside, but we can do much better. The fire is just for show. I will ensure the pig is cooked thoroughly with heat.]

    Thank the saints.

    To my amusement, they start to sing. Well, it¡¯s less a song and more of a vigorous chant, led by Shake¡¯s deep and powerful voice. That woman can really bellow when she puts her chest into it. The chanting is accompanied by clapping hands and stomping feet. It¡¯s¡­unusual music but they¡¯re enjoying themselves, swaying to the rhythm created by their rising and falling voices. All the while, Geneva handles the spit, turning the meat for show while she magically cooks it.

    It looks a little silly, but it¡¯s glorious for the simple reason that it¡¯s something I never thought I¡¯d see. To think the day would come that I would have family and friends gathered under my roof, celebrating with me at a casual whim. People of all walks of life coming together just because I invited them. Laughing and crying, in the case of poor Lane. Sharing themselves.

    For a girl who grew up in an empty home, fully believing I would spend my life alone, in every sense that matters, and unhappy, thanks to efforts of the Grimoires, this whole night has been a dream come true. And it doesn¡¯t have to end here.

    Sure, I¡¯m a wanted woman that¡¯s about to assault a noble, might have to go to war with the guilds, and definitely will have to wage war in the north next winter, but between all of that, I can throw another party and these wonderful people will come together to celebrate with me again. When I¡¯m not partying, I¡¯ll be with my wives, one pending, who love me, growing and learning.

    Life¡­is good.

    My mood is so good, I don¡¯t fight when Cloud grabs me by the hand and drags me into their group. I even join in the chanting. It¡¯s not hard, as the beat is simple and the chant is four lines. I have no idea what they¡¯re saying, as they aren¡¯t speaking Common, but given the smiles on their face, I doubt it¡¯s something I¡¯d be embarrassed to repeat. I give myself over to the energy, dancing and clapping alongside them.

    To my amusement, Kierra joins in, dragging Talia with her. And of course, the addition of the flower turns the happy little chant into something artistic. My wife has feet blessed by the saints. Despite the lack of music, she twirls Talia around as if they are on a ballroom floor, both easily continuing the chant. Their energy spurs us on, our combined voices carrying through the empty night.

    I¡¯m a ball of feeling as the night progresses, the chanting turning to humming but the dance continuing. We only stop once the pig is finished cooking, smelling as delicious as any other food Geneva lays her hands on.

    Shake produces a knife and proceeds to cut away slabs of meat, handing them out. The Templetees devour the meat like hungry dogs, tearing into it with snapping jaws while juices smear their chins and fingers. It¡¯s a wild and savage display, interspersed with groans of pleasure. A sentiment I understand once I get my own taste of the pig. A succubus never disappoints.

    Despite the ample food, no one from inside comes to claim their share. I understand. They¡¯ve been gorging themselves all night. It may be a good thing as the animals slowly ridding themselves of their human guises decimate the poor pig, tearing into it with a gluttony that could almost rival my unparalleled ability to consume in my ooze form. When their bellies are full and their eyes lidded, Shake, the leader of their group, finally says the words I¡¯ve been waiting for all night.

    ¡°Shall we go to bed, sister?¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-52

    Not all the Templetees follow me inside the house. The guy with the snake scales lies down beneath one of the colorful standing torches, eyes hooded as a hand distractedly rubs his stomach. I¡¯m not surprised he doesn¡¯t want to move when he practically inhaled a good quarter of the giant pig. At one point, his jaw was unhinged, allowing him to shove slabs of meat down his throat without swallowing. If he moves too fast, he might explode.

    Mouse Tail also doesn¡¯t follow us. Interestingly, she steps away to speak with William, who stepped into the garden a while ago, drawn by the commotion. They¡¯ve been having an animated conversation for a while, the shy young man blushingly stumbling through a conversation while Mouse Tail smiles wanly at him, the end of her pink, fleshy tail curling around one of his ankles.

    That leaves Cloud and Ruby to follow behind Shake as she carries me into the house. The large woman literally picks me up, one arm going behind my legs and the other behind my back. I¡¯m not small by any measure but I admit, being cradled in her large arms makes me feel like I am. Not to mention being wrapped in her ego. The shamelessness necessary to pick someone up and carry them into their own house is incredible to witness.

    I¡¯m so amazed by her daring that I don¡¯t say anything, letting her have her way. Maybe I enjoy it a bit. My wife is proof enough that I don¡¯t mind being handled by a strong woman and this is much gentler than Kierra¡¯s usual methods. That savage would have thrown me over her shoulder no matter whose house it was. Or we wouldn¡¯t have left the garden. She doesn¡¯t mind getting up close and personal with grass. As beastly as my guests are, they at least have the decency to take our intended activities to a bed.

    But not my bed. Alana and Kierra may be comfortable with me sleeping around but a part of me thinks it¡¯s going a little too far to do so in our bedroom. That seems¡­invasive, strange. When I enter my room, I think of my loved ones. The thought of entering my bedroom and remembering a drunken orgy instead of my first time with Alana invokes weird feelings. So instead, I direct Shake to the second guest room in the house.

    We draw plenty of attention. Sometime while we were outside, Marthe finally joined the party. Dressed in a short-sleeved blouse and skirt despite the chilly weather, Alana¡¯s sharp-tongued friend is, for once, not scowling. She looks toward us when we enter, rolls her eyes, and continues her conversation. With Arthur. Aren¡¯t they standing a bit close? Ugh. Best not to think too hard about that.

    Way is standing near them. Her reaction is visceral, her expression saying clearly that she¡¯s interested. She even takes a step toward us but one of Arthur¡¯s friends, another girl wearing too much leather, grabs her by the arm. She leans down to whisper something in the enthusiastic cook¡¯s ear, so low I can only hear garbled sounds even with my impressive hearing. Whatever is said, it dampens Way¡¯s mood. She frowns and pulls her arm from the other woman¡¯s grip, giving us one last wistful glance before turning away.

    The most notable pair of eyes that watches us belong to my future knight, sharp blue gaze finding us the moment we enter. Our gazes meet and the two of us know each other well enough that we can have a whole conversation in a look. An ability her sister doesn¡¯t share, forcing her to give voice to her concerns.

    ¡°Where are they going?¡± the northern bunny asks, genuinely confused. Which is incredibly amusing to me. During her spat with Alana earlier, she tried to present herself as a worldly and more knowledgeable older sister, which contrasts sharply with the ignorance, bordering on naivete, in her tone.

    Alana is similarly amused given the humor in her scoff. ¡°To a bed. Though not our bed. Hm. Which is probably for the best. Good job.¡±

    Thank you, sweetie.

    ¡°A bed?¡­no. You don¡¯t mean¡­all of them? Together?¡±

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    ¡°Why do you sound so scandalized? Don¡¯t try to tell me you never witnessed the Stars getting friendly during the little time you spent as a soldier. I won¡¯t believe you.¡±

    ¡°Well of course but, eh-hem. Shouldn¡¯t you be bothered by this?¡±

    ¡°Bothered by what?¡±

    ¡°Your wife is about to sleep with three other women,¡± Yulia says slowly, as if the problem is obvious and she doubts Alana¡¯s intelligence for not immediately understanding it.

    ¡°Likely more than that. Talia has been eager for some skinship to cement their relationship and Kierra will probably join because she¡¯s her. And that alchemist has been eying Lou since the garden tour. Seems a bit too¡­I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think group activities are her preference, but she might make an exception. She¡¯s almost as eager as Arthur¡¯s friend.¡±

    ¡°How are you analyzing this so calmly? Aren¡¯t you¡­concerned?¡±

    Alana scowls. ¡°Are you saying I should be?¡± Her tone implies that she¡¯ll take an answer in the positive as an insult.

    ¡°I¡¯m saying anyone would be.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not anyone. Neither is Lou. And you¡¯re doing that thing where you stick your big nose too far into my business.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just worried about you. Relationships¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to explain my marriage to me.¡± Aw!

    Thankfully, for her sake, Yulia finally gets the message and drops the topic, giving us a strange look. I have to admit, I¡¯m seeing the northern rose differently after tonight. She hasn¡¯t done anything against her character, but she was right when she said that choosing how to express an opinion makes a world of difference. With her pleasant and reasonable demeanor set aside, I can understand Alana¡¯s points a little more.

    Yulia wants her way, when she wants it, how she wants it, and not getting it makes her¡­frustrated. I can only imagine how overbearing that kind of nature must have been when she was a child, especially to a young Alana, who had to fight for anything and everything.

    I should do something special for her. Maybe a date after we handle all the problems in the city. Or a stroll through the Grand Market. Replace that old, tired armor of hers and have a meal at that fun restaurant William introduced us to. The girls there are a riot and I didn¡¯t have a chance to appreciate it last time with the unpleasant past Arthur there to take up my focus and ruin the atmosphere.

    I had hoped they would attend the party, but it was a long shot, given they hardly know me and this all came about in a rush. Can¡¯t expect everyone to drop whatever they¡¯re doing to attend my whims, though the thought is delightful.

    Cloud, more familiar with the house than the others, moves ahead of Shake, guiding her through the halls and opening the door of the guest room. It isn¡¯t much, with plain white walls and a sparse amount of furniture, but my guests hardly care about the decor.

    Shake carefully lowers me onto the bed before climbing over me, straddling my waist. My heart hammers but her expression is completely composed. She really has a striking appearance, hard stone softened by feminine curves. Her horn glows faintly as she looks down at me with hooded eyes, a faint smile turning up the ends of her lips.

    ¡°You¡¯re nervous,¡± she says softly.

    From the corner of my eyes, I notice Cloud and Ruby undressing each other, slowly, but Shake drags my attention back to her, two strong fingers grabbing chin. ¡°Are you not comfortable with this, sister?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m comfortable. Very comfortable.¡±

    ¡°¡­we need not the cliffs to shelter us from the harsh winds, only the shelter of family.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± I mutter, as Shake pulls her shirt over her head, tossing it away carelessly. Saints, she¡¯s even more defined than me. I love the look of a strong woman but I¡¯m still a little soft, especially my ass. Can¡¯t say the same for her. There is nothing but muscle in front of me and the lines of her abs look like they were chiseled into her skin. My fingers twitch with the urge to trace them.

    ¡°Brethren think of intimacy differently. For us, the heart is separate from the body, but I know that is a strange concept for others. As interested as I am in you, I wouldn¡¯t want to invite disharmony into your home.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯re not. My first wife actively encourages me being intimate with others and my second is probably going to listening at the door.¡±

    ¡°You have a wonderful house,¡± she says while kicking off her shoes and sliding off her pants.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Then there is no need to hold back.¡± Her underwear is the last to go, leaving her bare. ¡°I must admit, it would have been hard to leave if you had second thoughts. I have been craving this since the moment I saw you with your mate. You are, mm, irresistible. But that is of course what you want. What you have made yourself.¡±

    ¡°Yesss,¡± I hiss as her fingers hook the waist of my pants.

    ¡°Then it is only proper we thank such a generous hostess.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-53

    With arms like hers and the desire in her eyes, I expect her to start tearing off my clothes in a sexual frenzy, like Kierra when she¡¯s particularly eager. Instead, Shake handles me with the same care she¡¯s shown all night, carefully peeling me out of my clothes, gently urging me to move as needed, and dropping them in a neat pile as opposed to the lack of care she shows her own garments.

    Then she begins to question me. She asks about the properties of my hair as she runs her fingers through it, complimenting the violet highlights. My eyes are next. She asks me to show her each of my lids, kissing my face as I explain what each one does.

    The next object of interest is my tongue and she takes her time investigating it. At her request, I extend as far as I can, past my chin. Her finger traces the pale muscle and I wrap it around the digit, demonstrating its flexibility.

    The look she gives me when I do makes me shiver. It¡¯s incredible. We both know I¡¯m stronger, far stronger, than her, but there¡¯s just something about her that makes me want to lie back and let her have her way with me. Maybe it¡¯s the height.

    Her questions lead to a more physical examination, her lips and tongue providing their own answers. I normally dominate kisses, given my natural advantages, but Shake easily manages my overwhelming muscle. Can¡¯t say that it doesn¡¯t affect her. The longer we kiss, the more deliberately she grinds against me, her excitement becoming more obvious by the moment.

    When she has enough, for the moment she promises, she moves on to my chest. There¡¯s nothing special there but that doesn¡¯t stop her from fondling me. I hiss and buck as her strong finger pinch my nipples. My face flushes as she grins at my very telling reaction. I¡¯m sure my darker complexion hides the worst of it, but Shake sees right through my attempts to pretend that her casual examination of my body isn¡¯t making me burn.

    Her hands trace the rest of me and I try not to twitch as she asks about my muscles, marveling about how such a compact size can produce so much power. I do my best to give her a coherent answer, skipping through the details of the process while describing the creatures we wove together to create something new.

    Finally, after having fun groping my ass, lifting my hips off the bed to do so, her attention moves to where I¡¯ve wanted it all night. Shake pushes apart my legs to get a better look at my crotch. Horny as I am, it still takes personal attention for my gift to emerge, but there¡¯s plentiful evidence of my excitement painting my thighs. Shake ducks her head to have a taste of it, her tongue feeling slightly rough on my skin. ¡°You are a treat sister,¡± her deep voice rumbles against my folds.

    ¡°You should have some more.¡±

    ¡°I will. But first, I¡¯m curious. Something is missing.¡± I suck in a sharp breath as a finger probes my crotch, tracing me a teasingly light touch. ¡°I saw you with your mate, but you are all woman here.¡±

    Having a little trouble speaking, I answer with a hand, grabbing her wrist and guiding her to the head of my gift, deceptively appearing like a woman¡¯s pearl. As her finger strokes it, my member slowly emerges, to her growing amazement.

    When I¡¯m out and fully erect, the bed dips as Cloud joins us, then a second time as Ruby does the same. They both sidle up to Shake, one of Cloud¡¯s hands caressing a broad shoulder as she smiles down at me. ¡°Be ready, little mountain. Lou is like moondrip. The more you taste, the more you want, and the less you can control yourself. Have too much and you¡¯ll never have enough.¡±

    ¡°Gaze not at the moon too long, for she will also gaze into you. It is a risk I am willing to take.¡±

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    I gasp as Shake swallows me. When Kierra goes down on me, her attention is skillful and playful. Alana is much less experienced, but her shy demeanor and eagerness is just as attractive, if not as stimulating.

    Shake is entirely different. Her method is forceful, her jaw stretched wide as she stuffs me down her throat and sucks as if she wants to draw the life out of me. It¡¯s almost too rough for my sensitive member, straddling the thin line between pleasure and pain. Which, for my tastes, means it drives me wild.

    If I could, I would fuck her strong face until that composed expression, seriously who looks so damn calm while sucking someone off, collapses, but I can barely squirm with her strong hands holding me by the hips. It¡¯s frustrating but I¡¯d be lying if I said I don¡¯t enjoy it.

    If not for my fun earlier, I would have flooded her mouth in moments. Despite it, I only last minutes before I¡¯m moaning helplessly, pleasure shooting from the tip of my gift throughout my body. Shake¡¯s throat works as she swallows my load, eyes slipping shut. When I sag with relief, she pulls back, a finger wiping the drool from her chin.

    She opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by Cloud leaning over her, turning her head to steal her lips. Meanwhile, Ruby moves over and crawls over my side and pushing her nose against my folds. I can feel her panting breath, but she doesn¡¯t touch me, which only makes me wish she would do something all the more.

    Shake lets them have their way for a while before trying to pull away. Cloud holds her in place, ignoring the warning rumble muffled by their tightly locked lips. Eventually, a strong hand grabs Cloud by the hair and forces her away, eliciting a cute yelp.

    ¡°Enough.¡±

    ¡°Apologies, sister.¡± Cloud licks her lips. ¡°I can smell her on you and it has been too long since I¡¯ve had a taste of Lou.¡±

    ¡°I understand your eagerness. Which is why I will have my fill first.¡± Ruby has the awareness to duck away from the large hand about to descend on her head, scampering around to Shake¡¯s back. I shiver as the large woman grabs my gift as she shuffles up my body, rising over me. She smiles down at me, baring her teeth in a savage expression. ¡°For a beast with your teeth, you are quite cute in bed.¡±

    ¡°Is that¡­bad?¡± I breathe out, hyper-focused on her pussy, poised to swallow me.

    She chuckles. ¡°Far from. If you weren¡¯t married, I would not leave this house without you.¡± Before I can answer that weighty proclamation, she drops, taking my member is one brutal stroke.

    To my embarrassment, I squeal. Then I groan, feeling the tight walls squeezing me. Saints, she¡¯s strong everywhere, again giving me a pleasure that borders on pain. The wild pace she sets doesn¡¯t help.

    My bed is custom-made to handle the nightly fun between me and my wife. The simple frame of this bed isn¡¯t. Shake isn¡¯t as savage as my elf when she¡¯s in a roughhousing mood but the poor wood creaks and groans under the strain as she enthusiastically bounces atop me, holding nothing back. I¡¯d say she doesn¡¯t give a damn if she hurts me but she knows how durable I am.

    At least her calm expression is finally broken but she doesn¡¯t soften. Instead, her expression grows fiercer. Her teeth are grit as she grunts out her pleasure, thighs flexing and arms tight as she rides me, hard. I whimper and whine as the woman uses me to pleasure herself, ignoring my multiple climaxes as she chases her own.

    When she does cum, it¡¯s not with a moan or a scream, but a conquering bellow, like a warrior proclaiming victory. She slams our hips together as she throws back her head, pussy squeezing me as if she wants to take my gift home with her. I squirm beneath her, the feeling enough to take me right back to the edge. Unfortunately, Shake doesn¡¯t have my quick recovery period, staying perfectly still as she focuses on taking deep breaths once she comes down.

    The two girls aren¡¯t still. Cloud lavishes attention on the large woman, kissing and licking along her shoulders while her hands leisurely fondle her. Ruby focuses on me, finally getting what she¡¯s been wanting all night as her tongue licks at our thighs, her bushy tail tickling me as it wags with excitement.

    ¡°It feels like I have the sun in my blood,¡± Shake says once her breaths even out. ¡°My body is on fire with want. I must applaud your mates, sister. If I were them, I would get nothing done and you would never leave the bed.¡±

    ¡°I need¡ª"

    A large hand covers my mouth. ¡°I can feel that you are still ready. There is no need to ask.¡± Her bronze skin darkens as her horn¡¯s faint glow intensifies. Huh. Guess that¡¯s nothing to do with magic then. Later, when I can think about anything other than both of us getting off, I should ask my own questions about her interesting body. ¡°It is a rare thing to find a mate that will not break easily and I have a long way to go before I am satisfied.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-54

    Overwhelming. I could describe my time with the women from the Temple with many words but that one is the most appropriate.

    Too many sights. Too many smells. Too many hands and lips, touching and kissing too many places. There¡¯s no room for thought, only the capacity to feel and the instincts to react. When lips brush my own, I kiss. I follow the urging of rough hands that move me about and meet thrusting hips with my own. My hands gravitate to bare skin, doing as they please with no conscious input.

    Things quickly become a frenzied coupling of four bodies. Shake is a beast as she takes possession of my gift, aggressively hoarding me for herself. Cloud is an opportunist, taking her pleasure where she can. There is several minutes where she denies me the option to breathe, sitting on my face and enjoying my tongue until Ruby whines for attention and she tackles the young woman.

    At some point, the door opens and a shadow enters the room. One I don¡¯t recognize as Geneva until she is helping me drink a glass of water. ¡°You must stay hydrated, my summoner,¡± she whispers in my ear while I gulp down the contents of the glass. Then I lose track of her when she follows Cloud¡¯s insistent tugging.

    There is no room for love or tenderness. Not even when Shake is finally satisfied, rolling off me with a deep sigh, skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat, the glow of her horn having dimmed, and Ruby catches my attention. She¡¯s nothing like the mountain of a woman who had no qualms using my body, begging for attention with soft whines and coy brushes of her tail. She doesn¡¯t have Shake¡¯s strong hands, but her efforts are just as effective to get me where she wants me. That is, behind her while she¡¯s on her knees.

    Her nails turn to claws as I take her, shredding the sheets. I grab her arms to stop the damage. That somehow leads me holding her against me, one hand holding her wrists pinned behind her back while the other holds her by the throat, muffling her howling.

    Things get a little fuzzy after Geneva intervenes. I remember a pair of pretty pink eyes and her wide smile as a hand brushes against my chest, quietly asking my permission. Lost in the pleasure, I set aside my worries when it comes to succubi and agree. Then the brief moments of ecstasy stretch into an endless moment, a perfect dream.

    I don¡¯t remember falling asleep, but a soft touch to my cheek wakes me up. When I open my eyes, the sensual darkness has been replaced by a bright, searing light, illuminating the bodies lying around me. The Templetees are expected, Shake snoring rather loudly while lying on her back, Cloud sleeping beside her while Ruby is curled up on top of her. I¡¯m also not surprised by the succubus I¡¯m spooning, Geneva looking small and delicate as she sleeps.

    I don¡¯t remember Way joining. The lithe cook is naked, her small breasts pressed into my back, one leg resting over my own. She¡¯s coated in the smell of sex like the rest of us, so she must have been an active participant and was thoroughly satisfied, given her deep breaths and the drool, at least I hope that¡¯s what it is, on my back.

    Crouched over us is Alana, blonde hair tied back and her pretty dress exchanged for the loose linens she prefers to exercise in. The sweat on her brow says she¡¯s been up for a while and finished her usual morning training before checking up on me.

    ¡°Morning,¡± I say with a smile.

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her blue eyes flick around the room. I stare at them, searching for any signs of disapproval and am relieved not to find any. ¡°You know everyone heard you right? Not you, I guess but the others. Cloud. I recognized her voice, even over the music.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Ah, well.

    ¡°Of course you¡¯re not bothered.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a big loss.¡± The kingdom already knows me as a pervert. At least now, the rumors will have me as a pervert that knows how to show a woman a good time. ¡°And I¡¯m not surprised. She tangled with Geneva.¡±

    Alana looks over at the succubus. ¡°Didn¡¯t know she sleeps.¡±

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    ¡°She only sleeps when she wants to.¡± I poke Geneva¡¯s cheek and the pink eyes obediently open, a charming smile turning up the corners of her full lips. I shiver as images of last night return in varying degrees of clarity. My fingers twitch as I remember desperately holding onto her narrow shoulders as she moved between my legs, chuckling as she took me apart.

    ¡°While I can use magic to supplement a lack of sleep, it is more efficient to rest the same as any other.¡± She sits up and stretches, drawing both of our gazes to her chest. Her tail whips slowly in amusement as she climbs to her feet. ¡°But I suppose the fun is over. Off I go to slave for my summoner¡¯s pleasure.¡±

    Her hips sway as she brazenly walks from the room, unbothered by her lack of clothes. Our gazes never leave her, both glued to her ass until the closing door obscures it. I sigh and Alana clears her throat.

    ¡°I guess the party was a success,¡± she says after a moment.

    ¡°Mm.¡± I certainly enjoyed myself. ¡°Everyone seemed to have a good time.¡±

    ¡°Maybe too good of a time. They didn¡¯t leave.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Your guests. They¡¯re still asleep on our floor. Ah, not Marthe. I saw her slip away just after dawn.¡±

    ¡°Talk about a surprise. Didn¡¯t think she¡¯d come, if I¡¯m being honest.¡±

    ¡°Geneva¡¯s cooking,¡± Alana says with a shrug.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think it was for the pleasure of my company?¡±

    ¡°Marthe doesn¡¯t take pleasure in anyone¡¯s company.¡± Her lips screw up. ¡°Though she was close with Arthur last night. I didn¡¯t keep track of them, but she did leave kind of fast.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡± I refuse to believe it. No matter how much the dog has changed, she knew him before he gained manners and had to spend two days in close quarters with him. That¡¯s not a first impression that can be worked past or ignored.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about it. Or about most of the party.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have fun?¡±

    She winces. ¡°I think I had too much fun.¡±

    ¡°No such thing.¡±

    ¡°A group of strangers saw us fucking in the kitchen, Lou.¡± My smile stretches into a smug grin as she flushes and she smacks my shoulder. ¡°Not to mention all the crap I unloaded on my sister.¡±

    ¡°Do you regret it?¡±

    ¡°In the moment? Relished every word. But the party¡¯s over. That means we have to deal with the titans in the room. No more ignoring our problems or drowning them in wine and good times.¡±

    Sigh. She¡¯s right. The magical moment is over and reality, annoyed at being left outside with the cold, has come barging in. I¡¯m no longer welcome in my home. The garden my guests marveled at last night is going to be torn up and we¡¯re going to have to leave this lovely little estate. We should have another estate to stay in soon but that means confronting the lord of Quest and all the consequences that come with evicting a noble from his own home.

    When that¡¯s over, I have to negotiate with the hunters about giving away their hard-earned legacies while navigating deserved and undeserved grudges. On top of that, there¡¯s whatever brought Jac and Junior to my door. My cousin and I aren¡¯t close enough for her to visit me for a good time.

    And it all starts with kicking a bunch of strangers out of my house. Last night, in the throes of good cheer, we were friends, united in the purpose of having a good time. But in the harsh light of morning, they¡¯ll look past the wine and music to see the shitstorm heading my way¡­and they¡¯re going to jump aside. Not because they¡¯re bad people or disloyal. Truly, if the situation were a little less¡­intense, I¡¯d bet I could count on everyone I invited to help, at least a little. But I¡¯ve been exiled from the Hall, blacklisted by the guilds, and am actively defying a royal decree.

    People have abandoned family for less. It¡¯d be ridiculous to ask them to stick by me under this kind of pressure. I understand, but it¡¯s still¡­lonely to think about.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I sigh, standing up. ¡°I bet they¡¯re listening but if they aren¡¯t, tell Geneva to whip up a quick breakfast and Bell to start rousing people. If they can¡¯t make it back home by themselves, Bell and Earl can make sure they get wherever. Gajin and Anna can start dismantling the garden and Nomad can start on the house.¡±

    ¡°You plan on confronting a lord with all our worldly possessions behind us?¡± Alana asks with a trace of humor.

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t need my good shirts caught in the crossfire. And we¡¯re not marching on the lord today.¡± I want to make sure he has ample opportunity to run. ¡°I think we should spend a night or two at the Golden Feathers. I don¡¯t actually care about the little lord stuck between the crown and a hard place. We¡¯re storming his estate to make a point. Before we do it, I would like to know how the city is going to take that statement.¡± The last thing we need is the city guard growing a spine and rallying with the hunters to siege us.

    ¡°You? Thinking before you act? The Abyss must be posed to swallow us all.¡±

    ¡°Hey! If anything, I think too much.¡±

    ¡°No. Too much caution is better than not enough¡­though I still don¡¯t think that¡¯s why you¡¯re stepping so carefully.¡±

    ¡°I also might need a day or two to handle whatever is bothering Jac.¡± Family first, even if I¡¯m not that close with the few members of the Tome clan.

    Alana puts a hand on the back of my neck, gesturing for me to duck my head so she can peck my lips. ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright, Lou,¡± she whispers. ¡°Things might be a little hard for a time, but we¡¯ll make it through. Winter is long but it only lasts for a season.¡±

    ¡°Mm,¡± I hum back, heart swelling with warmth. ¡°Let¡¯s get it done then.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-55

    While the servants see to the guests and get them out of the house, not our house anymore, dammit, I take a very much needed bath. My body is a little sore, a testament to how, er, demanding last night was, and I¡¯m covered in all manners of dried fluid. Not to mention I reek of sex. I scrub myself vigorously before soaking in a scented bath, using my last moments of peace to fortify my mind and steel my resolve.

    An hour later, I¡¯m ready to face the problems our night of revelry held at bay. When I return downstairs, I find the house is busy, everyone preparing for our exodus from the Grand Hall. Including a few guests I expected to be gone.

    ¡°Ah, honored sister.¡± Cloud looks up from dismantling the small stage in the welcoming room, smiling at me. She¡¯s clean but dressed in yesterday¡¯s clothes and still smells of our activities. ¡°I hope you do not mind. After your efforts to¡­entertain us¡­¡± She shivers in delight, shaking her head to dispel the no doubt lascivious thoughts. ¡°It would be disgraceful to leave without giving something back.¡±

    As she¡¯s talking, Shake enters the room carrying a wooden crate filled with glasses. She sets it next to a growing pile of boxes before facing me. ¡°As my sister said.¡± She stomps over to me, gaze intense. Saints, I can still smell myself on her. ¡°I hope you will allow us to assist you in your troubles.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°You have given of yourself. It is the way of the Temple to return what is given, for good or ill. The Hall may have no place for you but the Temple, and the Sanctuary we call home, does.¡± She steps closer, using every bit of her impressive height to full effect as she lowers her voice. ¡°And even if they do not, there is always a place for you in my tent.¡±

    ¡°Oh, uh.¡± I swallow as I absorb the heavy promise in her voice. Guess I made an impression, heh. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll remember.¡±

    ¡°Do.¡± She steps back and heads for the kitchen. Cloud waves and returns to her own task. I decide to leave them to it. We can use the help and it makes me smile, most of my lonely thoughts dispelled by the show of support.

    I search for my cousin and find Jac, Junior, and Fen in the garden, sitting at a table with what remains of their breakfast between them. ¡°Good morning,¡± I call out as I take an empty seat, grinning at the way Junior winces. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say he had too much to drink and, unfortunately, his succubus isn¡¯t going to wave the pain away.

    Jac, on the other hand, looks chipper. Her light brown skin has a healthy glow and her eyes are bright as she smiles at me. ¡°Morning, cousin.¡±

    ¡°Someone¡¯s in a good mood. Oh. Morning, Nomad.¡±

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    My servant dips his head in greeting as he appears with a plate of food, setting it in front of me. Saints bless the poor man with a hint of vitality, he looks ghastly in the revealing light of the sun, the bags under his eyes appearing darker and his chalk white skin even paler. He doesn¡¯t even bother to leave behind a cryptic message before slinking away. I didn¡¯t think twice about ordering him to work during the time he would normally be asleep, knowing how effective Geneva¡¯s liquid pick me up is, but seeing his miserable state, I¡¯m rethinking my decision. I know he always looks like he¡¯s so tired he could die but still. Anyone who catches a glimpse of him would take me for a monster that works her servants to the bone. I¡¯m thinking of myself that way, despite knowing better.

    ¡°It was a great party. You know the half-elf that brewed those incredible wines? Of course you do, he was your guest. That man can make a fortune with his craft. And I can¡¯t believe you know the owner of the Bluebird Beauty company.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°Cynthia Oriole? The alchemist known by every noblewoman in Harvest?¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Guess she¡¯s famous.

    Jac shakes her head. ¡°I swear, Lou¡­no, never mind. Whatever you¡¯re doing, it¡¯s working for you, so I won¡¯t say anything.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s working for the most part. There are a few problems.¡±

    ¡°Like being kicked out of your house?¡± Junior grumbles. He scoffs when I turn to him with a questioning gaze. ¡°You think we didn¡¯t ask why the servants are packing everything up?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to, but it was kind of hard to ignore the sobbing gardener,¡± Jac admits, looking slightly guilty.

    I wave off her concern. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m trying to hide it. I¡¯m a wanted woman so the Hall can¡¯t condone my presence at the school. It¡¯s a temporary problem. Once the lord rescinds the order of detainment, I¡¯ll be free to resume my studies.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Junior grunts. ¡°Good luck. You¡¯re in violation of the king¡¯s decree against succubi. Guess copying my family legacy hasn¡¯t worked out for you.¡±

    ¡°Worked out a lot better for me than for you.¡± Fen lays a hand on his head, reiterating my point. ¡°And I¡¯d have thought you of all people would know how this works. Laws don¡¯t apply to those of sufficient power. Once I make it clear that antagonizing me isn¡¯t worth the trouble, the king will leave me alone unless I start murdering peasants in the middle of a capital market.¡±

    ¡°Spoken like a true Grimoire,¡± he says, his sneer broken a moment later by a wince as Fen smacks the back of his head, clicking her tongue like a disappointed mother correcting a particularly stupid child that doesn¡¯t learn no matter how many times she tries to teach him.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky she slapped you or I would have. But never mind you.¡± I turn to Jac. ¡°As you can see, there¡¯s a lot going on around here. Which is why you¡¯re first. I¡¯m sure you came to see me for a reason and I don¡¯t want you getting lost in the chaos.¡± I pop a slice of fruit in my mouth and chew it with relish. It¡¯s from Kierra¡¯s garden. I can tell from the wave of sweetness that washes over my tongue. That elf just has to excel, no matter what she does. ¡°Come, cousin. Tell me what ails you.¡±

    Jac rolls her eyes, but her expression quickly sobers. ¡°I hate to do this when you¡¯ve got so much on your plate, but things aren¡¯t good with the family. You know about the bans. You might not know that our fathers joined a group of independent summoners to do something about it.¡±

    ¡°I know. Uncle Jackal wrote to me. No details but I get the gist.¡± They had the same idea as me. ¡°Summon something annoying, prove that summoners aren¡¯t easy prey, and get the crown to back off.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I don¡¯t have many details, but something went wrong. Lou¡­your father¡¯s missing.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-56

    ¡°What do you mean he¡¯s missing?¡±

    ¡°I mean he¡¯s¡ªwait. This is going to be confusing if I don¡¯t start at the beginning.¡± Jac grabs her cup and takes a long drink. Water from the smell, or rather the lack of one. Then she clears her throat. ¡°It starts with those decrees, those stupid bans. I understand the king wanting to kick the Grim¡ªthe Masons while they¡¯re down to make sure they don¡¯t get back up but the insensitive way they handled it pissed off every summoner in the kingdom. Not that I have to tell you that.¡±

    I scoff. ¡°No, but you talk like it doesn¡¯t include you. Last I checked, you carry the Tome name.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a summoning fanatic. Not like you and your father.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call myself a fanatic.¡± I have a healthy respect for the art. It just happens it¡¯s the only pursuit I have respect for, elevating it above all others. ¡°My father is the fanatic. And apparently he''s missing.¡± My tone makes it clear I want her to get back to the explanation.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who distracted me,¡± she grumbles before continuing. ¡°Both of our fathers were offended and neither is good at taking an insults. In the past, the Gri¡ªthe Masons would have cowled them, prevented them from acting. Now¡­¡± She glances at Junior, who lowers his gaze, trying to hide his frown. Behind him, Fen smiles, tail slowly swishing in amusement.

    ¡°Seems your father worked together with a group of independent summoners. Lou¡­they were trying to summon a drakkon.¡±

    Saints damn it all to the darkest depths of the Abyss. Months ago, just before the qualifiers, I received several letters. The first was from Marquis Guiness, informing me about the bans and offering to ¡°support¡± me if I opened trade with the elven continent.

    The second was from Junior and Fen, the patriarch of the Mason family airing his grievances while the succubus assured me she was handling the situation and provided useful information. Including a list of the elementals the king made it illegal to contract. Drakkons are on that list.

    The third and final letter I received was from my uncle. It insinuated that he was planning to do something stupid. Between the three letters, I had a theory that they might try summoning something ridiculous, like say a drakkon since banning it proved that the elemental made the king nervous, and use it as a bargaining chip. I thought it and prepared for it, but I didn¡¯t really believe it. I told myself they couldn¡¯t possibly be so short-sighted and stupid. Well, maybe my uncle but not my father and he¡¯s the only real summoner between the two of them.

    Joke¡¯s on me. Seems even the demure Luke Tome can be goaded into doing something reckless and stupid. Now he¡¯s gotten himself into a mess I¡¯m going to have to clean up.

    Wait. ¡°How do you know they were trying to summon a drakkon?¡±

    Something tightens in my gut when she winces. ¡°My father claims that he was approached to join their scheme but refused.¡±

    ¡°Horseshit.¡±

    ¡°My thoughts as well. I think, no, I know he was involved, though perhaps not in the summoning itself. Something must have spooked him and when he went to check on their progress, he couldn¡¯t find your father. At that point, he decided to take his chances with the crown.¡±

    ¡°He sold them out?¡± I hiss, full of anger and disbelief. I know my uncle is a snake but I always thought he valued his family. Does the bastard not have a single redeeming quality?

    ¡°He did. He led the crown to the site and examined the circle, or what remained of it. Confirmed they were trying to summon a drakkon.¡±

    ¡°¡­that explains why Father is missing.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully. According to my father, there was a lot of damage to the area. He thinks something might have gone wrong with the summoning.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it.¡± My father may not have many admirable qualities either but he¡¯s a great summoner. More importantly, I inherited my exaggerated sense of caution from him. The man who raised me wouldn¡¯t look an aggressive puppy in the eyes without his elementals between him and the beast.

    ¡°Nothing¡¯s impossible. It might not have been his fault. Remember, he was working with others. Possible saboteurs or maybe just amateurs who drew one line too many. There could have been someone in the group who lost faith in their scheme and did the same as my father.¡±

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    ¡°So my father¡¯s missing and could be in the royal dungeons right now.¡±

    Again, Jac winces, lips turning down in a frown. One so severe, I straighten in my seat and lean forward, instinctively moving toward as I register the pain behind the expression. ¡°I can confidently say that the king doesn¡¯t have him. Or at least he didn¡¯t before I left the capital.¡±

    ¡°¡­what happened?¡±

    Junior, who has been doing his best to ignore our conversation, shifts about nervously. I note the strange behavior but never take my gaze off Jac as she drops her head onto the chair¡¯s back and closes her eyes.

    ¡°I got off work one day and two guards grabbed me, threw me in a carriage, and ¡®escorted¡¯ me to the palace. They took me to a room where Matty was waiting. He didn¡¯t know what was going on either and we were both surprised when my father walked into the room. He told us about the independent summoners and their scheme. Then he told us that the king wanted to interrogate us to be sure that he was telling the truth and we didn¡¯t know anything about Uncle Luke¡¯s whereabouts.¡±

    ¡°When you say interrogate¡ª¡±

    ¡°I mean by royal interrogators who¡¯ve taken a page from the Grimoires. I¡­refused. I didn¡¯t want them getting a glimpse of our meeting on a lonely road.¡± Her eyes briefly open to glance at Junior. I feel a wave of respect and affection for my cousin knowing she refused to hide my ¡°cooperation¡± with Junior. We may not be close, but she still put herself at risk to protect me.

    ¡°Refusing an interrogation means being imprisoned indefinitely,¡± I recall from my childhood lessons. I didn¡¯t pay attention to much, but I made sure to remember the laws of the kingdom and their punishments.

    ¡°I figured indefinitely couldn¡¯t be too long, given I really knew nothing, and the conditions wouldn¡¯t be that bad. I was half right. Dungeons¡­aren¡¯t nice places.¡±

    ¡°Jac¡ª¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have to stay there long. The king decided that my refusal wasn¡¯t worth shit and an interrogator ripped the answers they wanted from my mind.¡±

    I freeze. Even my heart stops beating for a moment.

    An interrogator used the mental affinity without her permission. Her mind had been violated. Against the king¡¯s law, the same law the lord of Quest and the crown was using to brand me a criminal. They had committed the worst crime of the Grimoire family, the one that made them the monsters the rest of the kingdom despised.

    Why? It certainly wasn¡¯t the only avenue available to them. The summoning failed, so there was no drakkon on the loose, threatening the lives of the citizens the king is sworn to protect. Did they do it because they could?

    Before, the Grimoires would have been quick to crack down on that behavior, having an interest in monopolizing manipulation through the mental affinity. Has their destruction and subsequent reformation emboldened the crown?

    Did the king shit on his own laws because he believes no one will hold him accountable?

    Some disgusting bastard stuck his fingers in my cousin¡¯s brain because she wanted to protect me.

    Swallowing my mounting anger, I slowly rise from my chair and move behind her, an arm hugging her around the shoulders. She flinches at first but relaxes after a moment, bowing her head.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry that happened to you.¡±

    ¡°Not your fault and it is what it is,¡± she whispers. She taps my arm softly and I let go, returning to my seat. She clears her throat, trying and failing to dispel the tension in her air. ¡°I don¡¯t know what he pulled from my mind, but it was enough to prove my innocence. I was given a bag of hush money and ousted from the capital with a warning to keep my mouth shut. By my father, no less. Said in much nicer words, of course,¡± she finishes bitterly.

    I¡¯m going to have words with that man.

    ¡°And since you are the only one I know outside the capital, I decided to impose on you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not an imposition.¡± I chuckle. ¡°Don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to be the vacation you were hoping for.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I was worried about bringing trouble to your door. Little did I know, you were already hosting a whole cohort of them.¡± To my astonishment, she looks at me with worry. After everything she¡¯s been through. ¡°Are you going to be alright?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I reassure her quickly. I even mean it. There are a lot of troubles on my plate but nothing amongst them that I can¡¯t handle. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You don¡¯t have to involve yourself in any of this.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not your problems Jac,¡± I insist before she can spout some selfless nonsense. I appreciate her desire to help, now and before, but the last thing I need is for a disgruntled hunter to put a knife in her back if negotiations break down. ¡°In the meantime, I¡¯m going to ensure you enjoy your stay. Relax. You deserve it.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Jac¡¯s shoulders come down as she accepts my reassurance.

    ¡°You look exhausted,¡± I continue. ¡°You should sleep in. We won¡¯t be heading out for a few more hours, at the earliest.¡±

    ¡°No, no. I¡¯m sure you have questions and it would be rude not to sleep the day away when you¡¯re in the middle of a move.¡±

    ¡°Look at you. A few months working for a living and now you¡¯re trying to take on the servants¡¯ work. Sit or sleep. Have another drink. Take the carriage and go shopping. Junior will answer my questions.¡±

    My childhood bully turned minion looks up after hearing his name, scowls, and looks away.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll¡­leave you two to it.¡± Jac stands and stretches. ¡°You¡¯re right. I do need a break. Let me know if you need anything or if anything changes.¡±

    I wave her off as she walks toward the house, forcing a smile to my face. The moment she disappears, the smile collapses, a hint of the anger roiling in my gut escaping. Across the table, Junior flinches and Fen smiles.

    ¡°Get up,¡± I snap as I stand up for a second time and stomp away. ¡°Let¡¯s take a walk.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-57

    At the table, with Jac watching, Fen played the part of the obedient elemental strictly bound by her contract, standing quietly behind Junior¡¯s chair. I trust my cousin, now more than ever, but I still won¡¯t share my more important secrets with her. The less she knows the better, for her and for me.

    While I never thought I had to be wary of the crown, one of the reasons I was so reticent about sharing secrets is I feared they would be ripped from the vulnerable minds of the people I¡¯d dare to trust. That horrible possibility has come to pass and my paranoia has paid off. My enemies, for that is what the king and that interrogator who I will track down have made themselves through their callous disregard for my family, know more than I like but nothing truly important.

    After several minutes of walking, Fen¡¯s demure act melts away like snow under the spring sun. She quickens her pace, overtaking Junior who scampers out of her way like a frightened mouse. She comes up alongside me and keeps pace but holds her silence. Normally, she would have already looped our arms and started flirting with batting eyes with a coy voice. Instead, she is solemn. Does she not want to risk having my anger directed toward her? Or is she preparing to deliver more bad news?

    I stop at the treeline that divides Kierra¡¯s garden from Gajin¡¯s, leaning against one of the wide trunks. Fen stops in front of me while Junior stands off to the side, shoulders hunched and eyes fixed to the ground. Everything about his body language screams he doesn¡¯t want to be here, but I could care less. Watching him squirm improves my mood the slightest bit. He and his family deserve a lifetime of pain. Whatever indignities he¡¯s made to suffer aren¡¯t enough to absolve his sins against me, let alone the countless people the Grimoires hurt.

    Now, the royal family, the most powerful nobles in Harvest, are about to walk the same path. The damage they could inflict¡­there are no words. I don¡¯t want to see what this kingdom becomes with succubi at the helm. That¡¯s why I gave Geneva limitations. Knowing someone else is about to make a similar and just as obvious mistake, while targeting my family in the process, is enough to make my head hurt and my chest burn with a vague murderous intent.

    ¡°You came without giving notice,¡± I say, deciding to start with something simple, lest I lose track of important details while blinded by anger. The succubi keep in regular contact with Geneva. How else could the don direct her subordinates? Fen should have easily been able to send a letter ahead of herself. Even if they were rushed out of the capital, any town, saints a decent village too, would have a way of sending a message. It would have been considerate and the succubi are nothing if not considerate of me. Which makes me wonder why she wasn¡¯t this time.

    ¡°It is rude to show up unannounced but the news I carry is best delivered in person.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± A flimsy excuse. What happened to Jac is¡­infuriating, but having it told to me in person doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m less angry. Is there something else? ¡°Jac¡¯s story. I assume you investigated?¡±

    ¡°Everything she spoke was true and said without exaggeration. She was picked up after working a shift at the Guiness Company and escorted to the palace. When she refused to be interrogated, they used the mental affinity against her will before her father drove her out of the city. I intercepted her carriage and offered to deliver her to you. She accepted.¡±

    ¡°Did my uncle have anything to say about the treatment of his daughter?¡±

    ¡°He was more concerned about my presence. I can also confirm that he has become the king¡¯s man. He is meant to be the head of a new organization that will monitor and restrict the summoners of the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Of course he is,¡± I mutter with disgust. If he thinks he¡¯s going to profit off selling out his family, he better think again. ¡°We¡¯re getting ahead of ourselves. Start at the beginning. Specifically the nonsense about my father allying with independent summoners to contract a drakkon.¡±

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    ¡°After the king¡¯s decrees, the Tome brothers were approached by an independent summoner by the name of Everett. He and his cohorts had an ambitious plan to secure the future of all summoners. The drakkon was meant to remind the crown of the danger that summoners can be when provoked. Then, a respected member of the nobility would quell the situation. Someone that would hold back the dangerous summoners and the rest of the community could unite around.¡±

    ¡°I presume that was uncle¡¯s role.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, there was none better suited, though he would have been a figurehead for a few years at most before we replaced him. That hasn¡¯t changed. Believe me, Lou. Whatever power he has is fleeting at best and imagined in most cases.¡±

    That, I do believe.

    ¡°The true goal of Everett and the cabal he gathered had nothing to do with the king. They hoped that they could stop the creature from rampaging in the city entirely. They planned to retreat to the south and hide away. There, the succubi of the Mason family would work to subvert the creature¡¯s will.¡±

    I stare at her in disbelief. When her expression remains sober, I turn to Gordon, but he doesn¡¯t offer a denial either. ¡°You¡­wanted to domesticate drakkons?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s feasible.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s insane,¡± I snap at the succubus. ¡°The records say they are highly aggressive and highly intelligent. Don¡¯t you think they would notice something messing around with their minds?¡±

    ¡°Bringing a creature under control doesn¡¯t necessitate the use of the mental affinity, though it does present a significant advantage. Do you truly think it beyond our ability?¡±

    Saints¡­no. If any creature in this realm could do it, it¡¯s the succubi. And I¡¯m not the only one who should know that. ¡°So, you domesticate the drakkon. Then what?¡±

    ¡°Then we sire more drakkons and train them.¡±

    My jaw drops as I stare at Fen in disbelief. Sire more? Train them? Again, the idea isn¡¯t completely impossible. It would be a hell of a strain taking on such a large shape but, with enough time to study the creatures, I¡¯m sure a higher circle succubus could pull it off. At least circle five, like Bell. I imagine a young drakkon would be infinitely easier to subvert. At best, they might have been able to pacify the original but raising its children from birth? They would be anything Fen wanted them to be.

    But there¡¯s one glaring issue with this so-called plan. ¡°They trusted you with all that power?¡±

    ¡°To be clear, they trusted me,¡± Junior mutters unhappily. ¡°The deal was that the cabal would keep the summoner of the original drakkon in their custody as a precaution. After the first litter was born, they would be raised by my family until they were adolescents, then distributed to the other members of the cabal.¡±

    ¡°Then what? You all ride drakkons into the sunset?¡±

    He sneers. ¡°Something like that. There was talk of a new kingdom of summoners, with the members of our little team each being the dukes of their own territories. Or kings of their cities.¡± He waves dismissively. ¡°I didn¡¯t pay much attention¡ª"

    ¡°Since they all would have been under the control of the succubi anyway.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Idiots had no idea what they were doing. They were confident because they thought they could outsmart me or assassinate me. They thought they would be competing against a human using a succubus¡ª"

    ¡°Not a succubus using a human as a cover.¡± Saints¡¯ blessed asses. Those people were about to gift Geneva an army of drakkons. When I told her she was free to scheme to grasp power within the kingdom, I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d reach this point in less than a year. I almost want to laugh. ¡°But something went wrong and my father went missing. I assume you know where he is?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Fen pauses. Then she drops to her knees and presses her head to the ground. My brows furrow at the unprompted show of submission. ¡°Your father¡¯s circle worked beautifully, summoning the perfect drakkon for our plans. What happened couldn¡¯t have been foreseen. A creature of the void came through the doorway between realms.¡±

    ¡°A lurker,¡± I whisper, stomach twisting with dread. Rolly mentioned them in passing. There are beings out there that live in the void of space. Creatures that can travel in the dark between realms, drawn to places of light and warmth. When doors are opened through summoning, they instinctively search them out, motivated by a primal hunger.

    They are dangerous, as they are highly aggressive and incredibly strong. Also, because they are not bound by the rules of summoning, they can move beyond the boundaries of a circle. Any summoning has the chance of luring one of the lurkers, making them an inherent danger of building bridges between realms. A negligible one.

    According to Rolly, the chances of one appearing is about the same as a commoner with a basic affinity born on a pig farm becoming a high noble. It could and has happened, maybe, but the odds are so low it may as well be impossible.

    It should have been impossible¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Lou. The brief moment the creature crossed into this realm was enough to launch an attack. There was no hope of me stopping it. The summoners¡­your father is dead.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-58

    Dead?

    I don¡¯t understand. The words, yes. Individually, I can parse their meanings but together, they make no sense. My father died in a summoning?

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    Fen briefly raises her head, spearing me with eyes as dark as the Abyss. Have they always been that color? Or that large? For a moment, they seem larger than my worries, just as deep and unfathomable as the afterlife said to swallow unworthy souls. I let myself drift in her gaze, a welcome break from considering her words.

    Then she bows her head and I¡¯m forced back into the struggle to accept what she¡¯s telling me. ¡°I¡¯m sure, Lou. His body was badly damaged, but I recovered his head. I transported it safely here.¡±

    She brought back his head but not the rest of him. That means he¡¯s definitely dead. Eviscerated, if Fen couldn¡¯t bring back any more. Something eviscerated my father.

    My father¡¯s dead.

    ¡°¡­you alright?¡± Junior asks, startling me. Why is he looking at me like that? Since when is he ever concerned about me?

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± The words are reflexive and dismissive. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°The lurker¡ª"

    ¡°No.¡± From the corner of my eye, I notice Junior flinch but it¡¯s a detail I can¡¯t bother to be concerned with. ¡°I want an explanation. Every single detail that led to this. Every decision. Every conversation. I want to know about these summoners. I want to know where they came from and who they think they are to challenge the crown. I want to see that summoning circle and I want to know how they built it. I want to know who handled the summoning, everything they said, and every action that took place during it. I want to know everything.¡±

    ¡°¡­of course, Lou. But it will take some time and you are very busy now. You should take a little time. Grieve for your father. Prepare him for burial. This can be done later.¡±

    I stare at the prostrating succubus, trying to consider her words but it¡¯s difficult. My head is like a stormy sea, ideas and images crashing against one another. My memories of my father reading me summoning records swirling with my conversation with Rolly about the lurkers, interspersed with imagining my father¡¯s head in a box on the carriage Fen arrived on. Beneath the thoughts, a feeling is stirring. One breaking through the cloud of confusion. Feeding off my disorientation. I¡­

    ¡°No. We¡¯re doing this now.¡± I need to know. I need to. Or else¡­how can he be dead? ¡°Get up. We¡¯re going back to the house.¡±

    I don¡¯t bother to check if they¡¯re following as I walk away. It¡¯s a beautiful day, the clear blue sky and warm sun clear indicators of spring while winter¡¯s grasp has been reduced to the slightest chill in the air. Back home, the village will be getting more lively. Father will be grumbly, as there¡¯s always a bit of rowdiness, people restless with months of pent-up energy getting themselves in trouble trying to burn it off. It¡¯s one of the few times a year our family¡¯s knights have to work.

    Oh. Father¡¯s dead.

    What will happen to Peter and Potter? They¡¯re two useless bastards, though they did make an effort to pull themselves together after I returned with Kierra, the presence of a beautiful woman motivating them where gold and personal pride failed. Are they out of a job? Does that mean they¡¯re going to starve?

    If they were working for us, no other noble family would take them and they didn¡¯t strike me as the types with a lot of life skills. Or the types to save for their futures. Do they work for me now? Do I want them to? Will they be forced to become common laborers if I don¡¯t?

    What about the estate? I suppose I inherit that. As well as my father¡¯s responsibilities. I¡¯m a ruling lady now. That village is under my purview. I have to make sure the people are safe and provided for. Collect taxes and send the due share to the capital¡ª

    Oh, wait. I hate the king now. I¡¯m not going to work for him. Does that mean that the village has no one in charge of it? No one to turn to? They can take care of themselves but a settlement without a lord, without a tie to nobility, is vulnerable.

    Bandits know they have no one to turn to for help. If they are attacked by a monster, there won¡¯t be any knights around to help them. My father didn¡¯t do much but his presence gave them security. That¡¯s the contract between a lord and the people he governs. The expectation. And as his only heir, they expect me to take his place. Count on it. Am I going to abandon them? Do I have any obligation to them? Do I care? Should I?

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    My father¡¯s dead?

    ¡°My lady!¡±

    I snap out of my thoughts to see Gajin standing in front of me, hands outstretched, not touching me but warding me off, his expression frantic. I follow his gaze and look over my shoulder to find devastation. At least, that must be what it looks like to him. In reality, it¡¯s just a few trampled flowers. Seems I walked right through a hedge and crushed them. It doesn¡¯t look like much to me, but I know my eccentric gardener must be just as crushed as the plants.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mutter, turning toward the house and continuing on my way. This time, I keep my gaze focused on the house so I don¡¯t wander off. Not sure how I did in the first place, but this is fine. It¡¯s easier with something to focus on. Get to the house. Talk with Fen. Then¡­

    Then¡­

    I manage to make it to the house without incident and absently go to my bedroom. Kierra is the only one inside. In her hands is a block of wood and a small knife. She¡¯s whittling away at the block as I enter but stops at my intrusion, smiling brightly. ¡°Good morning, my love.¡±

    ¡°Morning. Haven¡¯t seen you do that in a while.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I have no desire to stay here if the Hall will not have you, but this has been our home for a year. We have made many memories here. Leaving makes me feel¡­¡± She shakes her head. ¡°During my stay in the Enchanted Forest, carving helped me, hm, accept my emotions. The action focuses my restless nature and lets me clear my mind. Finishing a piece always leaves me refreshed.¡±

    Clear her mind, huh. ¡°¡­can I try?¡±

    She seems surprised by the request but is quick to agree. I take a seat on the bed while she retrieves another block of wood. She offers me her knife, her nails transforming into claws as she continues to whittle away at her own block. ¡°What has brought this on?¡±

    I feel the block, turning it around without the slightest idea where to start. Shrugging, I slice off a sliver of wood, the sharp blade cutting into it like it¡¯s a soft fruit. ¡°It looks like fun.¡±

    ¡°You have never asked me before.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t in the mood before.¡±

    ¡°And what mood are you in now?¡±

    I look up to find her hands have stilled and her golden-green eyes, more gold than green in the bright room, staring at me. ¡°We have told you, dedia,¡± she whispers, ¡°that you are too easy to read. What is wrong?¡±

    I look away from those beautiful, probing eyes and focus on my block, cutting away at it. I don¡¯t have a plan, or even an idea what I want to create, but slicing away small pieces, changing this unassuming block with my own hands, is satisfying. Or maybe it¡¯s simply having something to do. Something that makes sense. I cut, it changes shape. Simple.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say anything¡¯s wrong. Fen just¡­she brought some bad news.¡±

    Fingers brush my shoulder, but I ignore them. ¡°What news?¡± Kierra asks.

    ¡°My father is¡­¡± Dead. I try to say it, but it feels like the word is stuck in my throat. I cough forcefully but there¡¯s nothing there. Yet, when I swallow, it feels like a rock is going down. ¡°It seems my father is dead.¡±

    There is a sharp intake of breath, but I ignore that, attention consumed by my block of wood as I ramble. ¡°An accident. Lurker came through when he was attempting a summoning. Thing can only cross over for a moment but apparently that was enough for it to kill Father and the summoners he was working with. Guess Rolly¡¯s right to be afraid of these things.¡±

    ¡°Lou¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have all the details but I¡¯m going to sit down with Fen and get them. It¡­doesn¡¯t really make sense to me. That my father died because of summoning. I always thought that boring bastard would die from old age. Maybe a road accident or meeting the wrong manabeast. But summoning? It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡±

    The hand on my shoulder becomes more insistent while another grabs my wrist, stopping my knife from moving. I turn to Kierra to find her watching me with naked concern. ¡°Hey, there¡¯s nothing to worry about. He was plotting against the crown but there¡¯s no need to worry about them coming after us. If the family of every person that committed crimes was persecuted, there wouldn¡¯t be any citizens left. I might have to do something about our territory but that can wait.¡±

    ¡°That is not¡ª" Kierra shakes her head. Then her brows furrow. She looks like she¡¯s struggling with something, which is impressive. The last time I saw her like this was while trying to get her to tell me the reason she was trapped in the Enchanted Forest.

    ¡°Let me have those.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished with it,¡± I grumble as she gently but forcefully pries my mangled block and the knife from my hands. ¡°Neither are you,¡± I add when I see she¡¯s set her own project aside.

    ¡°We can finish later. Come.¡±

    She holds my hand and pulls me to my feet. I let her drag me through the house, vaguely noting Earl and Anna moving about busily as they pack up everything.

    Kierra pulls me to the dining room, where Alana and Yulia are sitting, having a conversation over tea. Alana doesn¡¯t look happy but she¡¯s not outright scowling and their voices are pleasant. Guess that means they¡¯ve made some progress.

    ¡°Good morning, Lou, Kierra,¡± Yulia greets and her son, seated in her lap, babbles at us with a happy smile. ¡°I had some ideas about¡ª"

    ¡°Not now,¡± Kierra says, voice sharp as a blade. I snicker as the snow bunny¡¯s mouth snaps shut with an audible clack and her eyes widen with panic. My elf ignores her, motioning to Alana who jumps to her feet. ¡°Come with us, star.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± My heart flutters seeing her stern expression. I don¡¯t know why Kierra¡¯s so upset but seeing it, Alana doesn¡¯t even pause to ask questions, ready to attack the problem.

    The three of us return to the bedroom and Kierra firmly shuts the door. Only then does she let go of my hand. She turns to Alana. ¡°Lou¡¯s father has passed. I need you to¡­¡± Her hands make strange motions. ¡°This is¡­I am not the one she needs. Not now.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-59

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I say, but it doesn¡¯t help. In fact, it has the opposite effect that I want. Kierra looks even more distressed while Alana¡¯s already grim expression darkens further. ¡°You two. It¡¯s alright.¡±

    ¡°Tell that to your face,¡± Alana grumbles before letting out a deep sigh. Then it¡¯s her turn to grab my hand and lead me, though it¡¯s only the short distance to the bed. I smile as she pushes me onto it, anticipation welling up as she climbs on after me. But to my confusion, she doesn¡¯t strip or reach for my clothes. Doesn¡¯t even kiss me. She simply puts her arms around me and lays her head on my chest.

    I¡¯m not complaining. Cuddling is also very much welcome. I put my arms around her and immediately feel my body relaxing. It¡¯d be so easy to fall asleep like this. But I can¡¯t because there¡¯s so much to do. The house has to be packed up. We have to get a room at the Golden Feathers. The lord of Quest has to be dealt with. So do the hunters. And now I have to talk to Fen. She¡¯s going to tell me how Father died. And give me his head. But not the rest of him.

    Where¡¯s the rest of him?

    ¡°Tell me about your father,¡± Alana asks, dragging me from my thoughts.

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Just do it, honey.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright. Um. He¡¯s a decent man¡ª"

    ¡°Not like that. Tell me a story about him.¡±

    A story? I don¡¯t have many memories worth recounting. Doubt she wants to hear about me walking in on my lonely father with the women of the night. Ah, there¡¯s that. ¡°Have I ever told you how I became interested in summoning?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°I was, er, eleven when my father introduced me to summoning. By then, I¡¯d already made up my mind that Luke Tome was a thoroughly bitter man and that I hated studying. So, when he tells me that he wants to introduce me to the family tradition, I wasn¡¯t very impressed. In fact, I snuck away the first couple of times he tried.¡±

    I chuckle at the memory and something in my chest tightens. ¡°Finally, Father got tired of it and had Pete, one of our family knights, catch me. He threatened to tie me to a chair with rope if I ran off again. A tactful man, my father isn¡¯t. Wasn¡¯t.¡±

    It feels like something¡¯s lodged in my throat again, but I swallow past it. ¡°The threat was enough to stop me, though I wasn¡¯t happy. I was a surly brat.¡± With good reason, but it doesn¡¯t change the facts. ¡°Father takes me to his summoning room and sits me in a chair. Then he starts to ramble about the art. About how it¡¯s our legacy, the wonders of the other realms, the responsibility of summoners, all of that. I¡¯m treating him the same as my tutors, staring at him with a blank look and letting the words wash over me. But then he gives me a demonstration.

    ¡°Watching him make the circle caught my attention because I never took my father for an artistic man and the pictures appealed to my childish self. I was so amazed when he channeled his mana into the circle and the pretty picture became prettier, glowing with power. Then he spoke his invitation and the air trembled.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°You¡¯ve watched my summonings. When a summoner invites an elemental to this realm, something else opens the way. And for a brief moment, you can feel it. A higher being.¡± A succubus is very different from the average person, but they aren¡¯t necessarily superior. The Guardian is different. It¡¯s¡­more. ¡°It sounds crazy¡ª"

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t,¡± Alana assures me. ¡°Keep going. What happened next?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Ah, well, the elemental he summoned entered the circle. And he didn¡¯t pull any punches. Called a boreal skyfish from the Blizzard Peak realm. It¡¯s always winter there, on a single continent dominated by a mountain whose top stretches far beyond the clouds. In fact, there¡¯s a sea of clouds near its base.¡±

    ¡°Must be massive.¡±

    ¡°It is, so we hear. Anyway, the Cloud Sea is where the skyfish live. They¡¯re exactly what they sound like though they tend to have a couple extra eyes and fins. Sounds strange but it doesn¡¯t matter because their scales are so beautiful. They¡¯re as clear as glass but they shimmer with all the colors of the rainbow. They swim through the air and they leave behind trails of sparkles¡­it was the most beautiful thing I¡¯ve ever seen.

    ¡°To little Lou, whose life was a series of dull days and deprivation, it was¡­everything. And my father, my boring father, my average father, my father that was never allowed to achieve anything under the tyranny of the Grimoires, had done this thing. This incredible thing. As I watched this magical creature swim through the air, I knew I, his daughter that was every bit as average as he was, could do it too. That I wanted to do it. For the rest of my life.

    ¡°But you want to know the most amazing part? That summoning was the first time I saw my father come alive. He smiled and his eyes sparkled. Seeing my amazement reflected in his face, I¡­¡±

    It¡¯s a struggle to keep talking but Alana¡¯s waiting eyes as she raises her head motivates me to try. ¡°I¡­felt¡­I knew¡­we were the same. We were family. That was the first time I really thought of him as my father.¡±

    Something wet runs down my cheek. Alana brushes it away with a finger, tears welling in her eyes. It takes seeing that to realize I¡¯m crying.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I whisper as more tears fall.

    ¡°I know.¡± Alana switches from wiping the tears to kissing them away.

    ¡°Why am I crying? I¡¯m not sad.¡± I¡¯m not. I was never close to my father. He hasn¡¯t been a part of my life for a year and I¡¯ve never thought about it. Never regretted it.

    But¡­before this last year, before I met Kierra in that monstrously beautiful forest¡­he was all I had. We were an odd family, some might even say cold, but I spent every day with him. We always sat down for dinner, even if we never spoke over our meal. He got mad at me when I did something reckless out of concern for my well-being. He shared with me what he values most, summoning.

    He was always there.

    But he isn¡¯t here anymore.

    I¡¯ll never see him again. Never talk to him. Never be annoyed with him. I never told him about Geneva and the role I played in the fall of the Grimoires.

    He died without knowing how much his daughter loves summoning.

    Ah. That feeling, the one that roiled in my stomach while I grappled with my confusion. I recognize it now. It¡¯s just been so long. After we were kicked from the capital, I told myself that heartache was pointless. Tears never helped me so I stopped crying. I stopped caring.

    Or I thought I did.

    ¡°Why?¡± I ask, the question quickly followed by a sob. I try to hold it back but the second one forces its way out. Alana shushes me as she pulls my head to her breasts, holding me so hard it would hurt if I wasn¡¯t so strong. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    I don¡¯t understand but it doesn¡¯t matter. For all my power, for all my advantages, this is one thing I can¡¯t beat. One thing I can¡¯t change.

    My father is dead.

    And he isn¡¯t coming back.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-60

    Several hours later, we¡¯re still in our respective positions, Alana spooning me while Kierra watches over us from a distance. I have no idea what¡¯s going on with the house and can¡¯t bring myself to care. Crying is exhausting. ¡°How did you know,¡± I ask Alana, voice hoarse and husky. ¡°What to do, I mean. To make me¡­¡± To make me confront my feelings.

    Alana runs her fingers through my hair. ¡°In Victory, death is normal. Expected. The veterans, they see so many die they¡¯re numb to it. The younger knights and the trainees grow up around that and think grieving makes them look weak. They try to be the same, putting up stern fronts and pushing their feelings away. Like you.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say it was a front¡­¡±

    She huffs but doesn¡¯t argue the point. ¡°I idolized the knights like every other child in Victory so, of course, I was the same. It was my mother who helped,¡± she says with what feels like grudging respect.

    ¡°I had a pet. Or, not a pet. Every now and again, some fool tries to keep a snowcat, one of the few cuddly creatures that can tolerate northern temperatures. They always escape and become nuisances for a short time before being put down.

    ¡°Well, there was one that liked to prowl the area around my house. Smart enough not to go into people¡¯s homes so it lived long enough for me to get used to seeing it. Had a little tuft of gray fur on its¡­anyway, I didn¡¯t have many friends, so I liked talking to it. It hung around if I fed it, grooming itself. Never let me get close but that didn¡¯t stop me. Damn thing was my best friend¡­until a knight killed it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°I wasn¡¯t a trainee then, but I still tried to be tough. Kept a stiff face even as my mother burned his little body. Ma¡ªmy mother intervened. While we stood by the fire, she made me talk about it. How soft its fur looked. The way it liked to lick a paw before rubbing its ears. Made me use the name I gave it. I started off strong but next thing I knew I was crying. Then I was sobbing.

    ¡°It¡¯s easy to face death when you think of it in the abstract. As long as it¡¯s soldiers dying, you can shrug them off with a stiff drink. But when you¡¯re forced to put a face to your loss, to remember what is gone, it makes it real and impossible to stay detached. That¡¯s the reason behind the stories told during Last Rites. To make it real.¡±

    ¡°What was its name?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Your friend. The snowcat.¡± I snicker at the look she gives me. The message in her expression is clear. She¡¯s annoyed that out of all her profound words, I¡¯ve latched onto this subject. ¡°What was his name? Her name?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not telling.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not important.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m curious.¡±

    She just stares at me.

    Stymied and restless, I wiggle out of her arms and climb out of the bed. I¡¯m still¡­upset, I suppose, but now that there¡¯s no more tears, other problems intrude, a constant nagging that only abates when I give them the attention they demand. Alana briefly tries to keep me in bed but lets me go after a few moments of insistence, standing up after me.

    Kierra¡¯s hand brushes my back as we leave the room, her eyes still troubled. Something I¡¯ll have to ask about later. I think she was genuinely scared earlier, which is both troubling and amazing. Troubling, because nothing scares Kierra. Amazing, because she was afraid for me. To the point of near panic. It¡¯s nice, in a way, to know she cares so much but I don¡¯t want her to feel bad. Not for this. We¡¯ll have to talk, but later, when I don¡¯t feel so¡­raw.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to check on Yulia,¡± Alana says while squeezing my arm. She waits for me to nod before walking off, leaving me with my thoughts.

    Despite circumstances bringing me to a standstill, the servants continued their work in an admirable fashion. The house looks bare, reduced to the few furnishings that were here before us. Gone are the skulls, furs, and weapons. Huh. Looking it at it like this, I suddenly realize that Kierra did most of the decorating. There was little of me, most of it being my summoning materials, and nothing of the other inhabitants.

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    My father wasn¡¯t one for decorating either. In my bitter moments, I thought it was because of a lack of funds, and that was no doubt a reason, but he always did appreciate a thing¡¯s function more than its form. Except when it came to women. He was just as much of a sucker for a pretty face as me.

    I need to stop thinking about him.

    Focus. I need to find Earl.

    I find my steward in the study, breaking down the table where he usually sits for his lessons. He pauses when I enter, setting down his tools and straightening up. ¡°My lady.¡± He brushes off his jacket before offering me a shallow bow. ¡°How may I be of service?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the status of the packing?¡±

    ¡°The house is just about finished. Gajin is taking longer than expected to finish the garden, even accounting for his reluctance. Once I finish, I will move to assist him, ensuring that it is finished by tonight. However, the mistress has yet to make progress on her personal garden.¡± That was because she was preoccupied with her concern for me. ¡°It will be impossible to move everything tonight. There is also the matter of where to move everything. We can acquire enough carts and wagons easily, but they need a destination.¡±

    I was meant to go into the city today and handle that, along with getting a room at the Golden Feathers for a night and scoping out the mood of the city. For everything we have, nothing less than renting a storehouse will suffice. I was hoping that Maxine could share her expertise. Or, if necessary, Marcella. If it were an emergency, I¡¯m sure we could be out of the Hall come morning but there¡¯s no need to impose on the Guiness girls.

    ¡°Just get it all ready. We¡¯ll move when we can.¡± Though I should still probably leave tonight. And if I leave, Kierra, Alana, and Talia will undoubtedly want to follow. Unfortunately, everyone can¡¯t. Fearsome as our reputation is, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s enough to stop reckless opportunists from snatching our natural treasures if we don¡¯t leave behind sufficient protection. ¡°How¡¯s Jac?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s been resting. A supply of snacks, juice, and reading material has kept her satisfied. She is currently asleep.¡±

    ¡°And Junior?¡±

    ¡°He and Fen went to the Grand Market. They¡¯ve yet to return.¡±

    What could they be shopping for? Hm. Fen said her explanation could take time. Maybe days for the detail I want. Ah, I see. Junior will likely need a few necessities. He certainly isn¡¯t welcome to partake in the riches of my house.

    ¡°Alright, good work.¡±

    ¡°My lady?¡± Earl calls out, causing me to turn before I leave the room. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°¡­why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Please forgive me for speaking out of turn. The head maid instilled in me that a good steward is in tune with the house he manages, including not just its physical state but its atmosphere. The air is tense. Something has happened. It would be my pleasure to assist you.¡±

    I sigh. ¡°Thank you, Earl. I¡¯m happy to hear that.¡± He¡¯s an incredible boy. Was an incredible boy even before Geneva got her hands on him, but I wouldn¡¯t dare put this on his still narrow shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re doing exactly what I need you to do. Take care of us. Take care of our family.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my lady.¡±

    When I leave the room, Anna is standing close by, several flocketts cradled in her arms. She looks up at me with her big eyes, blond haystack wild and messy. ¡°Alright, Lady Lou?¡±

    Something in my chest squeezes painfully. Saints, sometimes I forget how young she is. How pure and impressionable. Did I look up at my father like that at one time? Does she feel the same way I did, so very alone?

    No. She has her brother, her pets, and the rest of us to lesser extents. But I could do more. With all this power at my disposal, the people beside me, those who give me their loyalty and their lives, deserve nothing but the best. I should do more for all of them. I will.

    ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± I say, ruffling her hair. ¡°You take care of the little ones.¡±

    She ducks her head in a shallow bow before walking off. I watch her go for a while, comforting myself with the knowledge that the siblings are better off than when I found them until the back of her purple jacket disappears. Then I make my way outside.

    The garden looks terrible, the perfectly sculpted natural picture reduced to a desolate vision of turned soil. Gajin is probably crying so hard he can¡¯t see what he¡¯s doing anymore. I feel for him, but the thought also brings a smile to my face. I can¡¯t laugh, not yet, but it warms my heart.

    I keep going until I pass the treeline that defines Kierra¡¯s personal area, taking a seat at one of their bases and relaxing against the strong bark. Then I call out with my thoughts and wait.

    It doesn¡¯t take her long. Geneva arrives in minutes, a basket on one arm and a folded blanket under the other. I stand and let her spread it out before retaking my seat, far more comfortable. She opens the basket and pulls out a bottle of Herbanacle, but I motion for her to stop. ¡°I¡¯m not out here to relax.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± The succubus kneels, her hands demurely held in her lap. A submissive posture. An unassuming demeanor. ¡°What do you want, my summoner?¡±

    ¡°Everything that Fen knows, you know as well.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I snap without much heat. ¡°No games. No tricky wordings. You are the strongest succubus in this realm. Everything goes through you. I know you already know everything she knows. Probably did from the moment she returned.¡±

    Geneva¡¯s pleasant expression collapses into something more stern. ¡°I can do the same for you. Everything we know of your father¡¯s death, given to you in a moment.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Who knows what else will be transferred over? I am not so arrogant that I think I can foresee every eventuality and order against it. That¡¯s why I limit all direct mental manipulation. ¡°We will do this the old-fashioned way. No matter how long it takes or inefficient it may be.¡±

    If my decision upsets her, there¡¯s no trace of it in her expression. ¡°Very well, my summoner. Where do we begin?¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-61

    ¡°I want to know how he died.¡±

    It might be a mistake to hear the story out of order, but this is something I can¡¯t ignore for even a moment longer. Perhaps it¡¯s because he died during a summoning, the least likely way I expected my father to go. It makes his death unbelievable. Hard to grasp. ¡°You know where I want you to start.¡±

    ¡°¡­Luke Tome was in charge of designing the summoning circle. It functioned perfectly, bringing the desired drakkon forth. However, the lurker emerged, hijacking the open door to this realm. It took one second to fully emerge, one more second to unleash a barrage of attacks that decimated the surroundings and was ripped from the realm half a second later.¡±

    I stare at her with wide eyes. A second and a half. That was all the time this lurker had but it was enough to kill my father. That is a staggering amount of speed and strength. Especially considering that Father would have been on-guard, as he always is during a summoning. But as my awe fades, questions rise.

    ¡°Was my father the contractor?¡± I ask with a voice full of doubt. A drakkon is a powerful and dangerous elemental. In other words, my father would want nothing to do with it. I doubt he even had the coefficient to do so.

    ¡°No. One of the independent summoners offered to hold the contract.¡±

    ¡°So, they were there?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°The entire cabal?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    There is no hesitation in her tone but there is something. I¡¯m not sure which of my improved senses alert me to her unease. Saints, it might not be any of them and my imagination. Geneva is far too skillful to give away hints like that unless she wants to. Either way, I¡¯m entirely convinced. Probably because there is a detail in the story that she should be worried about.

    ¡°Junior was a part of that group. He was at that summoning.¡±

    ¡°Ye¡ª"

    ¡°THEN WHY IS THAT RED-HEADED FUCK ALIVE WHEN MY FATHER IS DEAD?!¡± I roar as I jump to my feet, the sound causing the thinnest branches of the nearby trees to shake. Geneva is unfazed, which only adds fuel to my mounting anger.

    ¡°There is a split-second tell that a lurker is about to emerge. When Fendelheim recognized it, she shouted for the others to drop to the ground, hoping to lessen the chances of being struck by the creature¡¯s aimless assault. She used a mental compulsion on her contractor, which he obeyed without hesitation. The others reacted too slowly or not at all. There was nothing she could do.¡±

    Nothing she could do? Nothing she could do? ¡°Don¡¯t tell me there was nothing you could do. You knew about lurkers. You could have made preparations to protect my father. You could have dragged him from the room. If his being alive was important to your plans, you would have turned the world inside out to ensure he survived!

    ¡°You weren¡¯t prepared because you didn¡¯t care. After I specifically told you to look after my family. I give you so much freedom on the condition that you safeguard my interests. Something you have completely failed at!¡±

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    By this point, I¡¯m practically seething. It¡¯s not her fault, I know it¡¯s not, she wasn¡¯t even there and succubi aren¡¯t omniscient, but my temper isn¡¯t trying to hear reason. And my words are true. If she had considered my father a priority, she would have made sure he lived, even if the whole planet with up in flames, as I¡¯m sure she would do for me.

    ¡°You are correct, my summoner. We looked after your family¡¯s interests, but they weren¡¯t considered a priority. Because you do not consider them a priority.¡±

    My face is tight with tension as I glare at her. ¡°Are you blaming me?¡±

    ¡°There is no blame. Your father died to a lurker. Not even the strongest creatures I know of can defend against them. They are merely an inherent danger of the art. But you are correct that if I was ordered to preserve your father¡¯s life, no matter what, I would never have allowed him to conduct the summoning or any other. You know better than most, an elemental is only as effective as the summoner using them.¡±

    My hand shoots out, grabbing her by throat. She stares directly into my eyes, not reacting even as I squeeze, impassive as a wall a stone. ¡°Do you think I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing? Shifting the blame to me so you can avoid the consequences?¡±

    [Is it wrong that I don¡¯t want to take the blame for a fault that is not my own?] she speaks into my mind, voice likely hindered by my grip. [Yes, my words are meant to change your mind, but you wouldn¡¯t feel them so keenly if they weren¡¯t true.]

    ¡°I cared. I told you to look after him.¡±

    [How many orders have you given me to protect yourself? How many orders have you given me in regards to your wife? Your lovers? Now, how many have you given in regards to your father? One. You¡¯ve done more to safeguard the kingdom at large against my influence than to protect your own blood¡ª]

    ¡°Shut up!¡± I snap. The voice in my mind ceases and I throw her away from me. ¡°Go. Away.¡±

    Geneva leaves without a word as I continue to fume. The audacity of that succubus. She didn¡¯t even try to be subtle as she mercilessly yanked on my emotions, twisting things to support her own view. Yes, I didn¡¯t extensively lay out a set of orders to protect my father from his own shadow. He shouldn¡¯t have needed it. Wouldn¡¯t have, if he¡¯d been his usual cautious self and avoided these independent summoners all together.

    More importantly, he wouldn¡¯t have appreciated me intervening in his life to such a degree. If protecting him at all costs meant stopping him from ever summoning another elemental, he would have told me to shove my protection somewhere unpleasant.

    I know this, but feelings aren¡¯t logical. Despite my anger at Geneva, my heart can¡¯t help wondering if I didn¡¯t do enough. If my father was dead because of my negligence. It wasn¡¯t my responsibility to rescue Father from himself, but I could have.

    The moment I received the letter from Uncle Jackal where he talked about possibly scheming against the crown, I could have ridden to Summer Spire to ensure Father didn¡¯t get involved. Or I could have had Fen discourage him. Had him kidnapped and brought to Quest.

    I could have acted¡­but I didn¡¯t. And the worst part is, I would have if either of my lovers were involved. I would have taken drastic action if I thought there was even the slightest chance they could be exposed to fatal circumstances, like antagonizing the crown. Geneva is right. Her words anger me so much because they¡¯re true. I¡­I didn¡¯t care enough. I could have done more. The actions, or inactions, of the succubi ultimately rest on the shoulders of me, the summoner.

    I failed him.

    As he failed me. Truly, I¡¯m my father¡¯s daughter.

    But I¡¯ll be damned to the Abyss if I let Geneva off so easily. Grief and guilt may gnaw at me, but I won¡¯t forgive her own failings. I entrusted her with his safety. Yes, I could have been more attentive, but I didn¡¯t think I needed to. That is the trade-off for allowing her to scheme and seize power for herself. She uses that power to protect me, to provide insight to see what I miss, to succeed where I fail.

    Perhaps if she had admitted she was wrong, that she had failed, that she had been bested by an opponent she couldn¡¯t possibly beat, I would forgive her, but she dares try to put this on me?

    I knew this day would come. When she would push me too far with her schemes. Force me to do something¡­distasteful.

    It¡¯s time to remind her who the summoner is.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-62

    As Geneva walked away from her brooding summoner, her blank expression changed, a smirk turning up the corner of her lips. One filled with humor, but not the kind of humor most would appreciate. Fate and its workings always amused her, even when it seemed the unknowable force was working against her.

    She was a natural predator with all the advantages: magic, strength, longevity, and control. All of that was tempered by eons of experience. Yet, inevitably, she faced problems that not even her powerful insight could save her from.

    The chances of a lurker usurping a summoning were infinitesimal. Much smaller than Lou realized. It wasn¡¯t simply rare, it was an event spoken of in legends and myths. One summoner in every ten generations might have their circle invaded by a denizen of the void and that was a generous estimation. Any written or oral stories would reflect an even smaller number, as lurker attacks tended to devastate the area, killing any witnesses. It was most likely why the Tomes, a family with a long history of summoning, had no knowledge of them.

    There were factors that could increase the chances of a lurker appearing: how populous the world was, the numbers of active summoners, how frequently they opened doors to other realms, and the size of those doors. However, those factors could only raise the chances of an appearance from basically impossible to so unlikely it might as well be considered impossible.

    If a world twice the size of the one she currently inhabited had a city of summoners that summoned a thousand drakkons every hour, that would change the chances of a lurker appearing from once every ten generations to perhaps once in every eight.

    There must have been dozens, or hundreds, of independent summoners plotting vengeance against the king for his unwarranted attacks against their community. Even if the realm was unlucky enough to have a lurker passing by, there had to have been multiple targets for it to choose from. Luke Tome and his cabal were victims of bad luck and worse timing.

    Unfortunately, her summoner didn¡¯t care about the workings of fate. Or how illogical it was to ask her to defend against circumstances that couldn¡¯t be predicted or defended against. All Lou cared about was her perceived failure.

    For all her talk of seeing the succubi for what they were, Lou had strange ideas about her abilities. Or perhaps a romanticized perception of them and summoning in general. It was hard to be entirely sure when she couldn¡¯t go rooting around in the young woman¡¯s mind. Ideals were fluid things.

    As much as she despised them, Lou was quite similar to the Grimoires. Where they fetishized the succubi¡¯s bodies and shapeshifting abilities, Geneva felt her summoner did the same for their minds. She had warned Lou many times, in preparation for a day like today, that she and those like her were not infallible. They could be wrong. They could make mistakes.

    Yet, the stronger the succubus, the less leeway Lou allowed them. Fen was present during the summoning but Lou had immediately blamed Geneva, who couldn¡¯t have possibly intervened from half a kingdom away.

    Those with power hold responsibility. Those without power have no say. Such was the way of Harvest and human nobility, where might, magical or martial, equaled status. Fen was weak, a mere thrall. Nothing could be lain at her feet.

    Geneva decided to lean into Lou¡¯s belief. Briefly, she had considered other options. Calmly pointing out the logical fallacies in her argument that the succubi had failed. Making herself a weeping mess and playing on Lou¡¯s weakness for a pretty face.

    However, there was one crucial detail that influenced her strategy; Lou¡¯s suspicion, born of a lifetime of anxiety and insecurities. She always suspected Geneva was scheming. If she tried to play dumb, Lou wouldn¡¯t believe her. If she tried to be soft and comforting, Lou would look for a knife hidden in the soft visage.

    Worse, Lou was grief-stricken. Grief was the most troubling emotion because it couldn¡¯t be predicted or understood. It could drive a sane man to madness or make a saint out of a villain. Grief was a seed of chaos. Anything could sprout from it. Geneva hated chaos. So, she decided to make that seed sprout in her image, the one direction she could control. In anger.

    Anger was dangerous but it could be directed, controlled. Better, it was all-consuming. Geneva didn¡¯t enjoy pain or punishment but she would happily absorb all of her summoner¡¯s angers so it didn¡¯t seep out and destroy other, more delicate things. And afterwards, when Lou was spent and horrified by the consequences of her temper, it wouldn¡¯t be too late to pull on her heartstrings.

    The only outcome that was unacceptable was Lou rejecting the succubi outright. Lou kept the succubi around for two reasons, despite the danger involved. Because they were useful and the summoner believed she understood them.

    The death of her father had shaken Lou¡¯s belief in their abilities. She could not have the summoner doubting her understanding of succubi. Best then to play into what Lou thought they were. Intelligent but arrogant, vicious creatures hiding behind veils of seduction and civility.

    As long as Lou believed she could control them, she wouldn¡¯t throw them away. Geneva was more than willing to sacrifice her body to appease Lou¡¯s anger. She was also willing to have her plans interrupted, though that¡¯d be annoying.

    The worst possibility she could foresee was her death. Lou could do use it as a demonstration of her power over them. It would certainly give Bell, the next strongest succubus and Geneva¡¯s de facto successor pause, but, in the end, they were all expendable. The ambitions of Burning Earth extended beyond individuals and lifetimes.

    More likely, Lou would subject her to some kind of pain, deprivation or imprisonment. Then Fen and Bell would be there to appeal to her. Remind her how wonderful and reliable her favorite servants were.

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    After entering the house, Geneva made her way to the kitchen. It was almost time for dinner and the succubus never missed an opportunity to prepare for a meal. Creatures of basic intellect were ruled by their instincts. Sustenance, survival, and shelter. Providing one of those things was the simplest way to earn their trust. In that way, a human was no different from a stray dog.

    For the Grimoires, that meant sex. Reproduction was a part of a creature¡¯s survival instinct and the one Geneva preferred to appeal too. Most creatures trusted and protected their mates. As an added bonus, pleasure was the easiest way to subvert a creature¡¯s will. Pain made a creature bitter and injuries took energy to heal. Pleasure made them eager to please while performing at their best.

    Unfortunately, Lou craved true affection expressed through intimacy, something she rightly believed succubi to be incapable of. Worse, she would never do something analogous to the actions of the family she despised. So, Geneva had to appeal the survival instinct through another means. Food.

    Geneva spent the last year plying her contractor with what she would confidently call the best cuisine in the world. The reason behind her certainty was that it wasn¡¯t simply good cooking. She enhanced each ingredient in her meals. Fruits left her hands sweet, meats fattier, and seasonings more complex. She also changed how they interacted with one another, producing tastes that couldn¡¯t be replicated with natural ingredients.

    It was culinary art and it had taken centuries to master it. Kierra could replicate her achievements but, as a pure affinity was limited by the knowledge of the one wielding it, it would take a long, long time to replicate the same depth and complexity of flavors.

    A quirk of sentient creatures was that the more accustomed they became to luxury, the more loathed they were to relinquish it. For that, a core tenet of a succubus¡¯ philosophy was to make their contractor as comfortable as possible. An entity would endure many hardships for a touch of comfort. So, as Geneva pondered her fate, she made dinner and baked.

    As she worked, Bell scampered into the kitchen. The imp stopped at Geneva¡¯s feet and transformed. Her bright skin darkened to obsidian as she grew to a height that could rival the house¡¯s elven mistress. Five horns sprouted from her head in the natural crown as the four scarlet eyes became two molten pools. The standard physical traits of a virtue.

    One of Burning Earth¡¯s grandest deceptions, a multi-realm conspiracy to hide their true appearances. It was incredible how few summoners questioned the appearance of an elemental the first time it appeared in their circle, even if said elemental was a known shapeshifter.

    If a succubus was expected to look a certain way, it created doubt when they took drastically different shapes. For the imps and thralls that didn¡¯t have extensive mana pools, it wasn¡¯t very important, but for the virtues and dons, it offered infinite potential for deception and infiltration.

    The two succubi locked gazes, eyes aglow as they channeled magic. In the blink of an eye, the entirety of their observations, predictions, and plans were transferred.

    {I would offer an amendment,} Bell replied after their mutual sendings.

    [Hoh?]

    It was a rare thing for Bell to second-guess her, even in such a minor way. Such things went against their nature. A higher-circled succubus was the sum of all the lessers she governed. Any mistake she might make, her subordinates didn¡¯t have the capacity to recognize it, let alone correct it.

    However, they did have one possible strength. Perspective. As the leader, Geneva tended to focus on the bigger picture. That sometimes meant smaller details went beneath her notice.

    In contrast, Bell, who limited her manipulations to a single group, such as a family like the Grimoires, or Fen, whose responsibilities would normally end at controlling her summoner, saw things differently. Never better, but sometimes worth considering.

    {We, through myself, should offer more information about Burning Earth.}

    [Risky. Your reasoning?]

    {It would serve to define us as two separate interests. You are the competent schemer she must always be wary of. I am the cute and supportive Bell. We will cement our roles with me ¡®working against you¡¯.}

    [Lou knows no succubus goes against her superior. It would be difficult to convince her otherwise. Possibly unfeasible.]

    {I submit she believes it to be a cultural phenomenon, not a biological imperative.}

    [A distinction she can learn quickly if she asks one question.]

    {Lou questions our actions, not our motives. I believe I can convince her that I have ¡®broken free¡¯ of your control. An idea that would appeal to her. Then I will become her agent that advises her against you.}

    [She will not believe you.]

    {She will come to believe me. As wary as she is, she considers us family and values family. That is why her father¡¯s death has impacted her so strongly.}

    [Rejected. Lou is a cynic. She finds it hard to accept when her own species acts out of love or kindness. A genuine saintly individual disgusted her. She will not believe she has inspired love in creatures she believes to be heartless.]

    {Then I will not present myself as her friend, but your enemy. A usurper.}

    [I see. You are revealing my weaknesses and those of our race to ingratiate yourself to a possible ally, the two of uniting against a greater for. Better, but what is the draw for her? She doesn¡¯t need to ¡®defeat¡¯ me.]

    {A succubus she can trust, loyalty guaranteed through mutual benefit. A humbler succubus who is more cautious of angering her contractor.}

    [Us? Humble? I didn¡¯t know you were fond of telling jokes, Belolial. Too improbable.]

    {Lou is a na?ve idealist. She will doubt at first but, if given enough evidence of a conclusion she wants to believe, it will overcome her doubt. Her power gives her the confidence to take risks, as she believes she can weather any consequences.}

    [How will you handle it when she inevitably asks about the reasons behind your sudden increase in support?]

    {I will answer honestly. I genuinely want to help her because I want her to place her faith in me. Wanting to overtake you is also truth. It is also a succubus¡¯ nature to consume and conquer all. Even their betters.}

    Geneva debated the option and the more she did, the more she liked it. It came with mild risks but mild ones. It didn¡¯t directly harm or manipulate Lou, so should they be discovered, her contractor wouldn¡¯t be very angry. Since many of her previous plans would be disrupted, it would be good if at least something came out of her misfortune.

    Besides, more influence over the young summoner was always a good thing.

    [Approved, but tread carefully.]

    {Of course.}

    Their conversation only took moments, speaking through their magic far faster and more efficient than words. During it, Bell had come to stand beside Geneva and began chopping vegetables. She would help with dinner, a supervised practice to prepare her in case she had to assume responsibility over the house¡¯s meals.

    If Geneva¡¯s predictions of Lou¡¯s nature were correct, she would be incapacitated in some way for an indeterminate amount of time. Bell would have to ensure their prey remained comfortable by keeping her food to a similar standard. Though not the same standard.

    It wouldn¡¯t do to have Lou think Geneva was easily replaceable. The succubus intended for them to be together for a long time.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-63

    ¡°What are you doing in the cold?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± I look up to find that the sun has sprinted toward the horizon and Kierra is standing over me. I remember sitting down after sending Geneva away, not wanting to have our next conversation under the sway of anger and self-recrimination. Time must have gotten away from me. ¡°Nothing, I guess.¡±

    ¡°¡­come. You can help me salvage the garden.¡±

    At her words, I finally notice the large axe she carries on in one hand and the cart behind her, piled high with copious amounts of rope, empty wooden boxes, and a lone spade. Where did she get this stuff? Suppose she had Earl make a trip. He practically does everything for the house and does an admirable job, but maybe he needs a little help? Someone who could do time-consuming errands like going to the market or delivering messages. Mm, that¡¯s a good idea. Really, what respectable house only has four servants?

    ¡°Lou?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, a little distracted. Love to help. Though I¡¯m a little worried that I¡¯ll break something.¡±

    ¡°I will harvest the flowers. You can help me with the trees.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do with them? It¡¯ll be a pain in the ass to transport them.¡± Not saying I wouldn¡¯t, there are very few things I wouldn¡¯t do for my lovely wife, but it¡¯ll definitely pose a problem. Wagons won¡¯t cut it.

    ¡°First, make them more manageable. Watch.¡±

    She motions me to take a few steps back before approaching one of the brown giants. Her sharp gaze flicks over it before she hefts the axe. She plants her feet firmly before swinging the tool in a powerful blow, her body twisting to follow her arms.

    The blade bites deeply into the wood, burying the entirety of the head. Her next swings are just as powerful and controlled, carving a smile into the base of the tree. When she finishes, she places a glowing hand on the trunk and it falls backward, creating quite the ruckus as it hits the ground.

    ¡°If I were back home, the woodsmen would stop here. Many woodworkers have different ways of processing their material and it can be treated in different ways to strengthen it or make it more resistant to certain types of damage. But I think this wood is too tough for the people of your kingdom. A few swings is all it takes to dull the edge of my weapon.¡± She holds up her ax, glaring at the edge before shrugging. ¡°It must be cut to easier sizes if we hope to sell it.¡±

    ¡°Surprised you want to sell.¡±

    ¡°What use do we have for a so much wood?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I can¡¯t think of anything, but I thought you were protective of goods from your home. Given you¡¯ve been dodging the invitation to trade with Marquis Guiness.¡±

    She huffs as she walks along the tree, eyes flicking over it. Her axe comes down a few times and she separates from the trunk a log as long as she is tall. ¡°I am not protective. It is an inconvenience. He wants me to bring him these things so he can avoid the trouble of getting them himself. If a trading party reaches Dusk and offers them something of worth, they will happily trade him the mana ore he wants so much. He does not need me and I am not here for his convenience.¡±

    She cuts away another log. ¡°Besides, it would be a constant cause of annoyance. My people will not be interested in permanent relations with this kingdom. No offense my love, but our cultures are¡­incompatible.¡±

    Haha, does she think she needs to tell me that?

    ¡°He will need to either prove himself or have a proven intermediary. So, if I facilitate trade for him once, he will want me to do it again. And not just him. When word spreads that I am an open channel to another country¡¯s markets, every merchant with a nose for opportunity will seek me out. The marquis¡¯ enemies will seek to destroy or sabotage me to eliminate a competitor¡¯s advantage.

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    ¡°Then there is the matter of the king. A ruler would not want something so lucrative outside of his purview. Not to mention wanting to use me for political matters. As I said, endless annoyances. The marquis has yet to offer me anything worth the bother.¡±

    Anyone else would be worried about themselves or their families being in danger. Being in the center of raging interests can be fatal. But to Kierra, it really is just about not wanting to be bothered.

    Now that I¡¯ve had a taste of her power, I understand. How simpler the world is when you can¡¯t be cut by a common sword, pierced by an arrow shot from an average archer, and can crush a knight¡¯s head through his helmet. She¡¯s lived much of her life with that confidence. I wonder what that felt like. Being so sure of yourself, because of yourself, not your family, all the time. And how devastating it must have been when that confidence was shattered.

    ¡°Kii?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± she asks while cutting another log.

    ¡°What was that earlier? When I¡­told you about my father. You seemed scared.¡±

    She pauses. I can tell from her tense shoulders that she doesn¡¯t want to talk about it but after a few long moments, she buries the axe into a trunk with a deep sigh.

    ¡°In Dusk, death is¡­¡± she starts without turning to face me, voice trailing off. ¡°It is similar to Victory but different. Death is not a bad thing and is accepted as part of life. I have known plenty who have perished on the road to strength. But that is only when we are young and foolish. When someone makes it to their first century, they are strong enough and wise enough that they can at least survive even the most lethal situations.

    ¡°Most do not have children until they are older still, secure in their own power and knowledgeable enough to want to pass their knowledge on rather than chase greater understanding. Children do not expect their parents to die from anything other than natural causes. Sometimes, they are together for centuries. A loss like that¡­it can change people. Destroy people.¡±

    She finally turns to face me, smiling tremulously. ¡°I know you and your father only had a fraction of the time, but that bond exists all the same and you are my gentle conqueror. When I thought of seeing the empty gaze of mad grief reflected in your own eyes, I¡­panicked. A bit.¡±

    ¡°Just a little,¡± I say softly, holding back a chuckle as my heart is suffused in warmth.

    She motions me over, stepping behind me and crossing her arms over my shoulders before laying her chin atop my head. ¡°Losing a family member is bad but losing a spouse is even worse. When one half of a union that has been together for centuries dies, it is not unusual for the other half to perish soon after. Even by natural means. Our best healers cannot put a name to it but there is a sickness of the heart that cannot be healed. It poisons the mind and the body, causing someone to wither away. It is like their very being turns against itself. That illness has the strength to fell mountains amongst my people. A poison my magic cannot combat. Yes, it is terrifying.¡±

    I can¡¯t imagine. Losing Kierra right now would be¡­I don¡¯t want to think about it. But losing her after we¡¯d been together for hundreds of years? She wouldn¡¯t be my wife by then. She¡¯d be a part of my reality. Something as certain and necessary as the sun¡¯s light. To have that ripped away? There are no words. And that is me imagining it. I pity the poor bastards who have to live through it. Or fail to.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± I tell her as I pat her arm.

    She nuzzles the top of my head. ¡°Mm. I know. In fact, that was one of the main reasons why I, hm, courted you.¡±

    ¡°Courted? Is that what you call that?¡± I don¡¯t think such a polite word should be used. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I ask after she chuckles.

    ¡°I have a pure affinity. Because of my magic, I am effectively immortal. The members of my race are long-lived but far from. Unless I chose a partner with my talent, I would eventually lose them. That was something I always kept in mind and why I never had a serious relationship.

    ¡°But you. From the first day I met you, I understood you were just as durable as me. Perhaps more. Your original form is not flesh and blood. Therefore, it will not age and decay. You were another immortal. Cute, caring, amusing, and able to satisfy me.¡± She sighs, this time happily. ¡°It was as if the Great Spirit had crafted my perfect partner and dropped her into my lap. I could let myself love.¡±

    I¡¯ve had a similar thought. It was no accident that Cosmo sent me to the Enchanted Forest. Though her words have raised an interesting question. Did he arrange my meeting for my sake or for hers? Was my divine father already interested in Kierra?

    I can imagine it. It makes more sense that he saved me because I was a good fit for Kierra than because he was interested in the girl I was. Self-depreciating, maybe. I could have impressed him. It could have truly been a wild whim. But in my experience, few things are as random as they seem.

    Someone is always pulling the strings and profiting.

    My benefactor he may be, but the thought of the powerful elemental having designs on my wife, or perhaps the two of us together, is concerning. More concerning is the question of his influence. How many people in this kingdom, or even this world, have connections to the creature powerful enough to be worshiped as a deity and has a love for chaos?

    ¡°That is enough solemn talk.¡± Kierra steps back from me and hands me the axe. ¡°Grief is poisonous if taken in large doses. For now, let there only be work.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-64

    Between the two of us, we manage to bring down the trees and make them ¡°manageable¡± in a matter of hours. By the end, the axe is the worst off of us, the blade dull and dented. Kierra is completely disgusted, having expected more from the quality of its craftsmanship. Her ire isn¡¯t directed at the smith who forged it but the poor materials he was forced to work with.

    I ask her what elves normally construct their weapons from. The answer is both something I should have expected and would have never guessed. While there is plenty of metal and smiths that can work it, traditional weapons are made of bone. There are creatures on their continent whose skeletons are harder than most ores and elves worship the strength of the body above all else.

    The problem is that said creatures are dangerous and elusive. There aren¡¯t enough bones to arm all the warriors of the provinces. Hence, the need for metal weapons. But the goal of those weapons is to help take down said monsters.

    Kierra assures me that the elves would be offended by the weapons of the Harvest kingdom, equating them to the work of apprentices who can¡¯t handle more durable materials. A part of me thinks I should mention as much to the Guiness sisters, or Max at the very least.

    If they, or more likely their father, ever intend on trading with the elves, they¡¯ll need something to entice them. Given their culture, it¡¯s natural to think weapons would be something they desire but if they are of poor quality, they¡¯ll just embarrass themselves. Or start a blood feud, I don¡¯t know.

    With the rough work done, my wife sends me and my brutish hands away before I can damage the more delicate plants she¡¯s spent a year nurturing. The house is a lot emptier by time I time I return. The ladies, and single gentleman, from the Temple are gone.

    A brusque departure. I wonder if they caught word of my¡­mood and left quietly to avoid intruding. Or it could be that they aren¡¯t big on showy goodbyes. Another culture that¡¯s hard to make assumptions about.

    There isn¡¯t time to dwell on the oddities of monster wranglers. With the house handled, we need to leave. I imagine the Hall wants to save itself a lot of grief and will avoid confronting us directly, but if we linger too long, Dunwayne will have no choice in the matter. Not even the Harvest Hero can avoid matters of reputation.

    I¡¯m not afraid of him, that¡¯d be ridiculous after everything I¡¯ve been through this past year, but I still respect him and, more importantly, what he represents. The others can stay if they need or want to but by the time the sun rises, I need to be off this rock. There¡¯s just one more thing that needs to be handled before I leave for the city.

    The sight of Talia seated on one of the couches in the living room, furniture that was here long before us, with a chest at her feet, catches my attention. Curious, I set aside my objective and walk over. She looks up at my approach, though her eyes are closed. A rare sight now that she¡¯s learned to see. ¡°Are you alright?¡± I ask, the sight enough to summon my concern.

    ¡°I am well.¡± Her eyes open, revealing milky irises on a black background. ¡°You look tired, Lou. Would you like to sit with me for a moment?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not tired,¡± I grumble but I take the offer anyway. ¡°Why were your eyes closed?¡±

    ¡°I like the darkness.¡±

    My expression twists as I stare at her with confusion. She likes it? ¡°I would have thought you hated it.¡±

    ¡°It is hard to truly hate something that has been with me for almost all of my life.¡±

    ¡°But you see mana, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Her thin lips turn down a fraction. ¡°I ¡®see¡¯ it but it¡¯s not the same as colors. It¡­it¡¯s hard to describe. See is not the proper word. It is something I feel but through my vision.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand it myself. It is something that simply is.¡± She artfully turns her head, showing off a portrait-worthy side profile. ¡°My world has been dark from the moment I was born. I was told that I was broken. And when I struggled to accomplish tasks others found easy, I believed them. I hated my impairment and envied those who were whole.¡±

    I swallow as sympathy twists my gut into painful knots, choking down the instinctive ¡°sorry¡± that wants to escape my lips. Talia is a proud woman and she is trying to make a point. She doesn¡¯t want or, more importantly, need, my pity. ¡°You don¡¯t still feel that way, do you?¡±

    Her miniscule smile is replaced by a faint smirk. ¡°No. While I couldn¡¯t do what others could, neither could they do what I could. There is no such thing as a broken individual. One simply has to find their strength.

    ¡°Once, soon after I was taken in by the orphanage that raised me before I was taken in by Lord Remmings, I overheard an argument between the caretakers. One argued that they should abandon me, as I was a pointless drain on their resources. Their goal is to raise children until they could care for themselves. He thought I would never be able to care for myself. I would only be able to survive as a beggar or whore and, if so, they may as well leave me to my fate.¡±

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    I stare at her with rising horror as her expression and tone remain placid. Saints, she¡¯s serious. I can¡¯t imagine hearing something like that as a child. Mediocre as I was, my father never doubted I would achieve something great. He insisted I would or die trying.

    Junior and the rest of the world did their best to grind me down but Father¡¯s indignation and stubborn belief that I would succeed where he failed gave me the perspective that one could rail against their unfortunate fate. I didn¡¯t share his drive, preferring to live a leisurely life than go against the world, but I knew it was an option.

    If he had told me I was worthless too, I¡­

    ¡°That man is likely still working in that orphanage,¡± Talia continues, drawing me out of my thoughts. ¡°Making do with little while the children he is meant to care for live off less. While I, the girl he thought was broken, have walked the same halls as kings and heroes. I live a life of luxury and fulfillment as he struggles in squalor, one small step above the most pitiful citizens of the kingdom.

    ¡°The interrogator who discovered my mental affinity also thought I would be a burden on the organization. How could a girl that cannot read texts or study written spells learn to cast them? Years later, he is a simple lackey of the crown while the current head of the interrogators is my patron and desperately wants me to succeed him. Do you know how I achieved this?¡±

    I mutely shake my head, a little awed.

    ¡°I accepted who, and what, I am. I accepted my weaknesses, focused on my strengths, and moved forward. It¡¯s too easy to get stuck in our failings, real or perceived. Happiness is fleeting but hurt lingers. Interrogators learn more from a person¡¯s pain than any other memory.

    ¡°But, despite the mind¡¯s tendency to hold onto the things that hurt us, they aren¡¯t helpful. Not even anger, though it can fuel us in desperate times. I accepted the darkness. Then I embraced it. I love being able to see. Color is the greatest gift I have ever received and I will never be able to repay my gratitude to you, Lou, for giving it to me, even if it wasn¡¯t your intention when summoning Rolly. Yet, my new vision doesn¡¯t erase the darkness that has become a part of me. Our pasts are a part of us, forever. For good or ill.¡±

    Her eyes bore into me and I¡¯m suddenly sure that it wasn¡¯t a whim that prompted her to ask me for a chat. She knows, doesn¡¯t she? Why hasn¡¯t she asked? Or said anything about it?

    ¡°¡­my father died.¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡¯m sorry for the pain his loss has caused you. Mourn that he is not with you but not that he has gone. He¡¯s in a better place.¡±

    Frustration wells inside my chest, making it feel stuffy. ¡°He¡¯s not in a better place. He isn¡¯t anywhere!¡± Only saintly individuals get to go to Paradise. The rest of us are destroyed, our spirits, the last thing that remains of us after our bodies perish, crushed by unfathomable darkness. Smothered by the weight of creation before we are reforged into a new spirit.

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°How do you know that is your father¡¯s fate?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Well, what else could there be? ¡°How do you know that it isn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°I was delivered from darkness. He may be as well.¡±

    A terrible part of me thinks she¡¯s mocking me. Another part quickly steps forward to calm the instinctive anger summoned by the thought, insisting this is an awkward attempt to comfort me. For all her efforts, Talia isn¡¯t adept at understanding or communicating emotions, I think.

    And yet, her words contain belief. Conviction, even. Maybe it¡¯s not a matter of comfort and this is what she truly thinks.

    ¡°Which belief makes you feel better, Lou? That there is nothing left of your father or that he watches over you from a beautiful, safe place where the troubles of the world can no longer touch him? Where he is happy and loved, pursuing his dreams.¡±

    ¡°¡­the second option, obviously.¡±

    Who wouldn¡¯t want to believe something like that? Unfortunately, the truth doesn¡¯t care about what we want. It also doesn¡¯t bother to be comforting or easy to accept.

    Except¡­is it the truth? No one has proven it. I speak of the saints because I¡¯ve heard of it them all my life, but no one has ever seen Paradise. They say the Abyss is the darkness between stars, but no one has reached the heavens either.

    That¡¯s what makes it faith. You choose to believe. So, if I can believe that story, I can choose to believe something else. That maybe you don¡¯t have to be a shining example of purity and goodwill to go to Paradise. That, maybe, decent men who made the best they could of a hard life can get a pass as well and Father is frolicking with the saints, wearing the carefree smile he couldn¡¯t in this world.

    And¡­maybe Mother¡¯s there with him.

    ¡°I think I get it,¡± I mutter while shaking away the fanciful thoughts. Believe whatever I need to move forward. Harder said than done but my chest feels a little lighter. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°We are all cursed, forced to bear burdens that can and will crush us if we let them. Yet, we are also blessed. What separates a curse from a blessing is how you choose to look at it.¡±

    ¡°¡­did you practice this whole speech?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    A laugh bursts free before I know it¡¯s coming, forcing a smile to my face. How very her. Of course she practiced. Some might find the admission off-putting but, somehow, her earnest attempt to rise above her nature to make me feel better is endearing.

    I stand and walk in front of her. Her eyes watch me with serene calm, even as my fingers cup her chin and tilt her head back. They¡¯re still staring at me as my own eyes slip shut just before our lips touch.

    She is soft and pliant, responding to what I do but never making a move, either to escalate or pull away. My tongue pushes past her lips and her only response is a slightly heavier breath.

    I pull away after a few minutes, smiling down at her. ¡°I would like you to accompany me for a while.¡± It¡¯s the last thing I need to handle before I leave for the city.

    ¡°It would be my pleasure.¡±

    She takes the hand I offer her and naturally links our arms. I take her through the kitchen and open a small door inside. It¡¯s supposed to be a place to store foodstuffs but due to the lack of space from our influx of guests recently, it was repurposed for a day.

    Inside, a drowsy Aurelius squints at the sudden intrusion of light. It doesn¡¯t take him long to recognize me. If looks could kill, I¡¯d be joining Father. But the truth doesn¡¯t care for what we want and the truth is that I¡¯m untouchable for the master caster. Would be even if Kierra hadn¡¯t given him something to make him a little sleepy.

    ¡°Now what are going to do with you?¡± I ask and he struggles against his bonds.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-65

    Aurelius tries to fight me as I drag him through the house and into the welcoming room but with his weakness and my strength, I don¡¯t notice besides his indignant mutters. I throw him onto one of the couches before undoing the restraints around his wrist and ankles. Then I untie the cloth gag in his mouth, holding it at one of its ends with pinched fingers, trying not to think too hard about where I pulled it from as I toss it aside.

    ¡°You¡­¡± His voice trails off as drool drips from his mouth. He clumsily wipes it away with a sleeve. I can see him battling the effects of whatever my wife gave him, forcing himself to focus. ¡°You¡­won¡¯t get away¡ª"

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do with you,¡± I say, raising my voice to speak over his continued mutters. ¡°Let me tell you what I would like to happen. I would like to throw you out of this house and never see or hear from you again. Just erase you from my life. And you know what? I even want you to go down to the elven continent and find yourself your perfect elf. I want you to be happy because, if you are, I won¡¯t have to worry about you being a pain in my ass. But you aren¡¯t going to do that, are you?¡±

    I don¡¯t need Talia to tell me what he¡¯s thinking. He may be a crazy man but he¡¯s a stubborn one. One with a concerning lack of instincts related to self-preservation.

    I¡¯m¡­not angry anymore. I¡¯m tired. He is the last thing I want to deal with, but I don¡¯t have a choice. Aurelius is in my house. I made a grand speech about justifying our assault on him as roughing up a trespasser, but I doubt it¡¯ll hold up to scrutiny. Especially not coming from a wanted woman accusing a respected master caster. As annoying as Aurelius is, he is not a criminal or a particularly bad person. An impartial judge is likely to side with him.

    If he leaves and runs his mouth, it¡¯ll cause problems. If he disappears, it will cause problems. People know he came to my house and knowledge of our animosity is common. I¡¯ve got too many problems already so I¡¯d really prefer it if he didn¡¯t become another.

    As much as it annoys me, I¡¯m willing to negotiate. Though willing might be too strong as a word.

    If only there was a shred of a chance that Aurelius will go away peacefully.

    ¡°I need you to understand my position,¡± I say to the angry man. ¡°You have been harassing my family since we came here. You made yourself a threat, looking for any opportunity to sabotage me. I¡¯d be dead if you could have gotten away with it.¡± Don¡¯t doubt it for a moment. ¡°You threatened me in my own home. Surely, you can understand my actions.¡±

    He says nothing. I push on.

    ¡°Despite all of that, I¡¯m willing to let this go. Let any animosity between us die. And all I need from you is a promise that you will leave us alone. Don¡¯t talk to us, don¡¯t talk about us, and do everything you can to avoid being anywhere near us. Do that and this ends right here. Amicably.¡±

    Aurelius stares at me as he takes long, deep breaths. Then he lowers his gaze. ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s lying.¡±

    His head snaps up and he stares at Talia with wide eyes, his expression a cross between shock, panic, and indignation. ¡°You cannot do that!¡±

    ¡°Do what?¡± she questions.

    ¡°Use the mental affinity on me!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± She smiles. Noticeably, which means she must be pretty happy. ¡°It¡¯s interesting how the mental casters of the kingdom are so focused on using their magic on others when the benefits of using it on ourselves are infinite. I do not need to reach inside for your thoughts if I fine tune my ability to read your¡­emissions. You are projecting so much anger and disdain, I would have to be magically blind myself to miss it.¡±

    ¡°You are blind! No, that doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re as bad as her, maybe worse. Forget the Hall. A rogue interrogator won¡¯t be allowed to live. They¡¯ll drag you back to the capital and execute you.¡±

    ¡°¡­you truly are insane. If these were better circumstances, I would be interested in studying you, but you have sealed your fate.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

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    What is she talking about? Maybe that he¡¯s made it impossible for me to release him? Haha, saints damn it all. He¡¯s right. What I¡¯ve done is bad but the worst I fear is being banned by the Hall.

    If he leverages accusations of Talia abusing the mental affinity, she¡¯ll be executed. While those claims are bogus, I don¡¯t think that will matter. Not with the king trying to monopolize the mental affinity. Whether Aurelius is lying won¡¯t matter. It¡¯s a perfect excuse to detain Talia for questioning. And once they have her, he can have her forcefully interrogated. Something that will reveal things I don¡¯t want the king, who is really going out of his way to piss me off, to know.

    And there¡¯s another big concern. Aurelius¡¯ just extended our conflict to someone close to me. Say I let him go. Who else will he involve? The rest of my family?

    I don¡¯t much care about Uncle Jackal, but Matty, the best of us, is another story. And what about Jac? She won¡¯t be with me forever. Eventually, she¡¯ll return to her quest to sail across the sea to the Tome family¡¯s motherland. Will there be an insane master caster waiting in the shadows, ready to hurt her to hurt me? She doesn¡¯t deserve that. Neither do I.

    Geneva¡¯s words suddenly come back to me. Her accusation that my father died because of my inattention echoes in my head. An egregious accusation, I¡¯m not responsible for an Abyss-tainted voidspawn crawling through reality and unleashing a wave of death no one could have stopped, but there is one mote of truth in her words.

    I couldn¡¯t have foreseen or stopped the lurker, but I could have restrained my father. It wouldn¡¯t have been right to strip him of his freedom, the only way to guarantee his safety, but I could have done it. Just as I can stop this right now. End Aurelius before he has a chance to become a pain instead of an annoyance. There will be consequences, but what decision doesn¡¯t have them?

    The question is, if I must have regrets, what do I want to regret? Brazen action or no action?

    I already know the answer.

    Really, this was always going to end this way. We were destined for this moment since the first time I saw that fanatical desire in his eyes. Our fates were sealed the moment I threw that first punch.

    He knows. His eyes don¡¯t glow with channeled mana and there¡¯s no way he could construct a spell with his mind still impaired by the poisons in his system. But he knows. I can see it in his face, right before my fist punches through it.

    There is no other sound besides the twin beating of hearts, Talia¡¯s significantly slower than my own, for several long moments before I slowly pull my fist out of the fleshy hole it created. A ball of feelings churn in my gut; disgust seeing the blood mixed with brain matter coating my hand, satisfaction having finally eliminated the annoying bastard, and a gnawing dread.

    I¡¯m not worried about the Hall¡¯s reaction. They¡¯ll never find Aurelius and I don¡¯t think Dunwayne will come after us unless he¡¯s forced into it. The Harvest Hero might be a hero but he must know that Aurelius was a dangerous man. His behavior toward has been disgusting and unhinged. I can¡¯t imagine a sensible man wagering lives, including his own, to avenge someone like that. Though I¡¯ve pretty much ensured I¡¯ll never be an acolyte again.

    No, the source of my dread is my reaction. That I¡¯m glad he¡¯s dead and I killed him. Killing bandits is one thing. They¡¯re a menace to society. Dispatching them is a service, as there is no telling how many victims my actions saved. The hunters were out of necessity. If they hadn¡¯t kidnapped Howie or forced me into that March with their stupid challenge, I¡¯d have never raised a hand against them.

    Aurelius, for all his faults, wasn¡¯t a menace to society. He might have hurt the people closest to me, but I don¡¯t have proof he had any such plan. His accusation against Talia could have amounted to nothing, just like when he tried to do the same to me. And Talia¡¯s patron, the head interrogator, could have protected her.

    There were other options besides killing him. Better or worse, I¡¯ll never know for sure. I put him down because I think it¡¯s the most hassle-free option, at least in the long run. I killed him for no other reason than to make my life easier.

    And I¡¯m satisfied.

    ¡°Earl.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lady?¡± my steward says a breath after I call for him, appearing at my side with the grace of a shadow slipping through the night. His attention is solely focused on me, not sparing the corpse bleeding onto the floor so much as a glance.

    Guilt bites my heart with small jaws. A boy shouldn¡¯t be seeing this¡­but he probably saw much worse before I took him under my wing. I wonder if that¡¯s what I was looking for on the King¡¯s Road that day. People more tragic than me. All my servants certainly have their issues.

    ¡°Clean this up. Make sure there¡¯s nothing left of him. Nothing.¡±

    ¡°It will be done.¡±

    I motion to Talia and she falls in step with me, again naturally linking our arms. ¡°He didn¡¯t give you a choice,¡± she says as we walk.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°¡­why?¡±

    ¡°Part of the reason you acted was to protect me. Thank you, Lou.¡±

    My lips twitch upwards into a weak smile. ¡°That¡¯s my role in our agreement, yes? You are my delicate, accommodating flower and I take care of you. I make the hard decisions and do the dirty deeds that keeps people safe.¡±

    ¡°That is our deal.¡±

    ¡°Do you ever regret it?¡±

    ¡°No. I am still convinced that my interest is best served at your side. While the succubi are a good first step, I find myself interested in how beings of other realms use my magic. You will help me explore this and Kii will give me the time to do so.¡±

    How wonderfully simple her vision is. If it aids her, she keeps it close. If it doesn¡¯t, she disposes of it. ¡°Never change, Talia.¡±

    ¡°We all change but some things will always remain the same.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully, the important things. You will ride with me to the city. There is something else you can help me with.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-66

    Fen returned from the market fairly late. I was almost ready to think she was avoiding me but there was a good explanation. Spring brings the start of another academic year at the Hall. The market is full of acolytes and even new initiates preparing to better themselves through the study of magic.

    Traffic is high and supplies are low. Not to mention the pair of them, Fen disguised as a beautiful woman and Junior objectively handsome, or so the succubus assures me as I can¡¯t personally see it, draw attention from a crowd. All those factors turned a simple errand into an ordeal.

    After a short deliberation, we divided the household. Kierra will remain at the house to finish harvesting her garden, along with Gajin. Nomad and Bell will also stay behind to patrol the estate and ensure no opportunists try to take advantage of the situation.

    Earl, being the devoted servant he is, volunteers to remain behind and Anna, being the clingy little sister she is, is quick to follow. Both are denied. I¡¯m keen to let the children take a break, be the ones waited on for a change.

    Besides, I will need Earl¡¯s help in the city. The immediate plan is to get rooms at the Golden Feathers, the chain of hotels owned by the Guiness family, for the night. The day after that, two at the most to make sure the lord has plenty of opportunity to run in case he thought I was joking in the letter I sent, we¡¯ll move into the only noble estate in Quest. But that is still a temporary situation.

    If we want to stay in the city, we¡¯ll have to see about obtaining property of our own. A simple task given that the guilds, the true power behind Quest, are about to provide us with plenty of funds to buy whatever I like. Someone¡¯s going to have to find said place and handle the tedious process of obtaining it.

    A job I would normally leave to the succubi but I have business with them. They owe me answers and until I have them, they won¡¯t be doing anything out of my sight. I didn¡¯t want to leave Bell behind either but weighed against the possibility of several master casters ambushing Kierra, no matter how unrealistic the possibility, I relented.

    My guests, Jac, Yulia, and her son Allen, are coming with me. The house isn¡¯t very hospitable having been gutted and emptied of all supplies. I doubt my cousin is going to be happy being in the middle of this mess with the hunters but now that she¡¯s in the city, the safest place for her is beside me.

    After¡­we¡¯ll see when the time comes. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m letting her go back to the capital, but she can¡¯t be a guest forever. Jac isn¡¯t like me, who would be perfectly happy to let the days pass in marital bliss. She¡¯s ambitious and driven. Someone like that can only relax for so long. It won¡¯t take long for her to become restless and begin searching for a way to continue her mission.

    Alana and Talia are also coming with me. There¡¯s no way Alana is going to leave my side when trouble is so close. Talia was divided but Kierra insisted she tag along. I think the elf is still concerned about how I¡¯m handling the death of my father. I understand that the death of loved ones makes her worry, but she doesn¡¯t need to be concerned about me doing something stupid.

    I¡¯m grieving for my father, but it only hurts when I think of him. Otherwise, it¡¯s easy to forget that he¡¯s dead. I won¡¯t think of it for long stretches of time until I see a book of Rolly flitting through the air. Then it comes back and a strange emptiness in my chest makes itself known for a moment. It¡¯s¡­uncomfortable, but I hardly need Talia keeping an eye on me. However, I accept it. Her presence is far from burdensome and it puts Kierra at ease, which is more important.

    We are quite a procession as we set off from the house. Alana, Talia, Yulia, Allen, and Jac are with me in my usual carriage, Khan tucked away amongst our luggage. That¡¯s still something I need to explain to Jac. Or maybe not. Before Geneva can work on Khan¡¯s mind, we need a secure place to hold him. The original plan was to make a room beneath the house but that is no longer viable. I doubt we will have a suitable place again until the business of the March is resolved. By then, Jac might be ready to go on her way and there will be no need to dance around the topic of a possible world-ending threat in the north.

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    The siblings have their own carriage. A necessary luxury because Anna also has to bring along her pets. The original ball of golden fluff I brought back from the Sanctuary has become many balls of fluff. They don¡¯t take up much space but they are active. Also, they are incredibly frightened being moved from their ¡°den¡±. If they were made to sit with strangers, their little hearts might stop, or so I was told by their tiny guardian.

    There is also two wagons behind us, carrying most of our belongings. They could have been left for tomorrow but I¡¯m fairly confident that one of the Guiness sisters will meet us at the hotel and will have no problem letting us store our things either in the hotel or somewhere more convenient. It also means that Kierra will have an easier time moving things when the time comes, as a runner can take the wagons back to the estate in the morning.

    Junior and the succubi take on the role of drivers. The moon is high and the mood heavy as we depart. This is my last time departing from my home. It was always meant to be a temporary roof over our heads, but the abrupt departure leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

    I do what I can not to think about it. Mainly, lounging against Talia and letting her stroke me with slightly cool fingers. Unfortunately, I¡¯m not the only source of tense air.

    Jac didn¡¯t know about my father¡¯s passing. I don¡¯t know why Fen didn¡¯t share that while they were traveling together but I couldn¡¯t have her do it while I¡¯m right here. Jac isn¡¯t¡­sad, I don¡¯t think. They were hardly close enough for that. However, death is a hard topic. Her face has been stern since receiving the news.

    Between her and myself, I don¡¯t blame Yulia for probing a topic I¡¯d rather not discuss.

    ¡°I heard about what happened to your father, Lou,¡± she says softly, the exact tone I¡¯ve heard mothers use when speaking to their sniffling children. Surely I don¡¯t look that miserable? ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss. Losing anyone is hard but family¡­no other wound can compare.¡±

    She would know, wouldn¡¯t she? How many brothers has she lost? Four? ¡°Thanks,¡± I mutter, hoping she can hear how little I want to talk about this in my tone. Alana adds a glare as a silent warning. Both of us are ignored.

    ¡°If you need, we can handle the matters related to the March while you see to¡­other matters.¡±¡¯

    ¡°There are no other matters.¡±

    ¡°¡­at the very least, the burial¡ª"

    ¡°There are no other matters,¡± I reiterate, adding a touch of steel to my voice. What burial? All I have is a head. And there is no dealing with his estate while I¡¯m a criminal.

    ¡°Yulia,¡± Alana adds. ¡°Stay out of it.¡±

    Thankfully, the snow bunny does. ¡°Alright. I just hope you don¡¯t let business get in the way of grieving. I have seen what that does.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not as if I have a choice. The world isn¡¯t going to politely stand still until I¡¯m ready to deal with it.¡±

    ¡°No, of course not. But you don¡¯t have to bear every burden yourself. We can handle the negotiations, at the very least.¡±

    I hold back a scoff. That¡¯s the problem I¡¯m most worried about. The thing with the king is bad but I¡¯m reasonably confident that I can anticipate his actions. Nobles are simple creatures, motivated by one thing: profit. If it isn¡¯t profitable, they don¡¯t do it. That goes especially for the king, as his vassals stand ready to criticize his actions and snatch even the tiniest bit of his power.

    The hunters are motivated by honor, pride, and tradition, as well as profit. They are not a single whole but thousands of different bundles of ideals and motivations vaguely moving in the same direction. I would prefer to face the knights of Victory. At least with them, I would know that a deal struck with the duke would bind the whole of Victory. With the guilds, there is no such guarantee.

    I doubt the catastrophe in the north was sanctioned by anyone important. That proves that the leaders have no control over the rank and file. Idiots who can stumble into something like the March. When we take the gold that they expect to fill their purses, they¡¯re the ones who won¡¯t give a damn about northern knights or civil war.

    ¡°No offense to you, but you¡¯ll need me.¡± Kierra and the succubi are meant to handle the master-level casters, like the guildmaster my elf crushed. However, they can be overwhelmed by numbers. My immortal body and relentless stamina are the solution to the army of idiots that can rise against us.

    ¡°It won¡¯t come to that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not be on the other side of the kingdom if it does.¡±

    ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± Jac asks, gaze bouncing between the two of us.

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s clearly more than nothing, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get involved,¡± I hiss. ¡°It¡¯s got nothing to do with you and it¡¯s nothing worth sticking your nose in.¡±

    My cousin stares at me in pensive silence before averting her gaze. She always was a smart one.

    ¡°Thank you for your concern, Yulia, but I¡¯m fine.¡± If I¡¯m to grieve, it¡¯s going to have to wait. There are dragons to slay.

    ¡°¡­very well.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-67

    ¡°I¡¯m glad that you¡¯ve returned from your journey safely.¡±

    As expected, a Guiness daughter is waiting in the lobby of the hotel when we enter, though only one, which is a bit of a surprise. Especially because it¡¯s Marcella, the older daughter and new manager of the Quest branch of the Guiness Company.

    Marquis Guiness is the wealthiest merchant in the kingdom. Inheritance is always nasty business, but it is especially so in the golden family, as the stakes are higher and the participants more numerous than usual. The marquis has over a dozen children. Each one is eligible to run his empire and he doesn¡¯t follow traditional rules of inheritance, that is handing over control of the family to his oldest son and giving the rest of his spawn a little money to build their own futures. His heir will be decided by whoever can prove themselves the most able.

    I would think that Maxine would deny her elder sister any chance to speak with us alone, as her father is so interested in us, but only the voluptuous Marcella is waiting for us, dressed as scandalously as usual. Several of the male patrons follow her with their eyes as she passes and I can¡¯t help but notice how charming her smile is.

    ¡°Marcella.¡± I stiffen as she approaches, trying to make myself as unapproachable as possible. Thankfully, she gets the hint and doesn¡¯t come too close, keeping her charms at a respectable distance. Normally, I would be happy to let such a beautiful woman get as close as she pleases but Kierra rejected her. Being too nice risks both my marriage and her life. ¡°We need four, no, five rooms. And some place to store a few things.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll have someone take your things to one of our warehouses if you don¡¯t mind. Would you like to retire immediately? Or can I interest you in dinner? I doubt it can compare to the cooking of a succubus, but our cuisine is famed throughout the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°¡­sure, dinner sounds great. Though we should get cleaned up first.¡± I doubt the other patrons will appreciate a bunch of fluffballs bouncing around in the dining room.

    ¡°I will arrange it immediately.¡±

    ¡°If she can arrange rooms and dinner,¡± Jac whispers while leaning toward me, ¡°then she must be someone important.¡±

    ¡°Marcella Guiness,¡± I say in answer to the unspoken question, keeping my voice just as soft.

    ¡°Ah. The one in charge of the local Guiness branch?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Despite Maxine Guiness coming out this way?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°Tough.¡±

    It certainly isn¡¯t a pleasant circumstance for Max. I hope she hasn¡¯t given up. As little as we have in common, I do consider her something as a friend. It would pain me to watch her give up and fade into obscurity, though I understand the impulse. Marcella is a fearsome opponent.

    It doesn¡¯t take long for Marcella to return with several keys. She motions for us to follow her, quickly guiding us to a stairwell at the end of a hall. ¡°Forgive me if my words cause you any offense, but I would like to make a suggestion.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you cared about causing a little offense,¡± Alana scoffs. I guess the seductress isn¡¯t making a good impression on my future wife.

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    ¡°It depends on the person, Lady James.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±

    ¡°Of course. It could get a little confusing, seeing as the hotel is graced by the presence of two James daughters.¡± She briefly glances over her shoulder, gray eyes flicking to Yulia before she turns back around. Guess I shouldn¡¯t be surprised she¡¯s well-informed. ¡°This is a sensitive topic. I think it best to tread carefully.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°If you need a neutral ground for conversation, I would recommend the hotel. The guilds are loathed to offend my father and the Guiness knights will ensure all attendants conduct themselves in an orderly manner.¡±

    ¡°How much do you know?¡± Yulia asks before I have a chance to respond.

    ¡°I know that the hunters have invoked the traditions of the north. I also know that if the situation is not handled with care, we will all suffer, the kingdom most of all. My family¡¯s interests are closely tied to the prosperity of Harvest, my own to this city. I am vested in the kingdom, or any part of it, not being razed so I¡¯m offering my assistance. Here we are. This entire floor has been reserved for your party so feel free to divide up the rooms as you please.¡±

    Marcella hands me a ring of keys. ¡°When you¡¯re ready, you can find me in the dining room. Enjoy your stay at the Golden Feathers.¡±

    She departs with a coy smile and swaying hips. I chuckle as I catch my future wife¡¯s eyes briefly locking onto her backside before she turns her head while grumbling. ¡°This is a lot more space than I expected,¡± I say while twirling the keys. ¡°Pick a place and let¡¯s meet our hostess for dinner.¡±

    Junior doesn¡¯t hesitate, pushing past the rest of the group to find the closest room. He lets out a sigh of relief when he finds the door open and disappears inside.

    ¡°Forgive his rudeness, Lou.¡± Fen sidles up to me and extends a hand for the key ring. I hand it over and she deftly removes one. How¡¯d she know which one she needed without even glancing at the lock? Oh. On the head of the keys are numbers that match painted gold numbers on the doors. Smart. ¡°He hasn¡¯t had a proper rest since we set off from the capital. If you don¡¯t mind, I would ask that he be allowed to skip dinner.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± Doubt the gorilla could make for decent company anyway. ¡°Do you want to stay behind to look after him?¡±

    ¡°If you permit it.¡±

    I wave her off and she disappears into the room. The siblings take the next room, Yulia and Allen the one across from them. Alana, Talia, and I take the room at the end of the hall. It¡¯s nice, with plenty of space, neutral white walls, and tasteful decorations. A level of luxury expected from the Guiness. Yet, as I stare at the large bed with over a dozen pillows scattered across it, anger blooms in my gut.

    I shouldn¡¯t be in an admittedly nice hotel. I should be at home, relaxing in my large bath with my lovers. I should be enjoying a meal out of this world, not sitting down to eat in a dining room with¡­with¡­

    Cool fingers caress the back of my neck, distracting me from my dark thoughts. ¡°Shall I help you undress, Lou?¡± Talia¡¯s beautiful voice whispers next to my ear and my bad mood is banked, the embers not quite extinguished but no longer threatening to blossom into flame.

    ¡°Mm.¡± Her deft hands get to work after I hum my agreement. In moments, my clothes are arranged in a neat pile beside my feet. There¡¯s no time for a bath but a damp cloth wipes the dirt and sweat from my face. I spot a half-naked Alana in my peripheral as she hands a stack of folded clothes to Talia. She picks what she wants from the pile before turning back to me. Her focus and joy are palpable as she dresses me to her liking, the shirt and jacket still casual but suitable for the company of a high noble.

    ¡°How do I look?¡±

    Talia brushes out miniscule wrinkles in my jacket. Then she meets my gaze with her exotic eyes and whispers, ¡°You are beautiful.¡±

    Heat flushes my face as a wave of profound embarrassment washes over me. It¡¯s so bad I reflexively look away from her. Saints. I know exactly how I look, I designed this form after all, but I rarely receive such direct compliments. And coming from someone that looks like Talia, well.

    ¡°We should get going,¡± Alana says, shattering the moment. She¡¯s changed clothes but didn¡¯t bother dressing up, wearing the same simple shirt and pants she¡¯d wear while training.

    That¡¯s my northern bride. Nobility means something entirely different to Victory. The James aren¡¯t ones for pomp and circumstance, besides when it comes to their traditions. Marcella certainly isn¡¯t enough to inspire greater effort. ¡°Unless you two want me to deliver an excuse to our hostess?¡±

    I¡¯m tempted but¡­ ¡°No. Let¡¯s get going.¡± Unfortunately, business comes before pleasure once again.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-68

    ¡°Over here, Lou.¡±

    As promised, Marcella is waiting for us in the hotel¡¯s dining room. We aren¡¯t the only ones making use of the room and several gazes turn to us as we walk toward the large table in the back. I look at the crowd, taking note of the different customers. My eyes that have mingled amongst nobility all my life have no trouble separating the fake wealth of accomplished hunters and successful merchants from the blue bloods.

    Their reactions are what give them away. The nobles watch us with discerning gazes, wondering who we are to be sitting with the Guiness in charge of the golden family¡¯s ventures in the city. The merchants avert their gazes and glance at us discretely, well-acquainted with the art of subtlety. The wealthy hunters leer at us without concern, sure of their strength and position. Something I can hardly fault them for. I¡¯m sure Alana, Yulia, Talia, and I make for quite the sight. Jac declined the dinner invitation, too self-conscious to sit with a Guiness on short notice I bet, and I told the succubi to stay behind. Junior knew better than to try coming.

    Marcella welcomes us with a bright smile as we fill out the table reserved for us. It doesn¡¯t take long for a serving girl to bring us drinks, mugs of water. ¡°The hotel prepares a simple meal every night but if you have a taste for something particular, our chefs can hopefully accommodate you. We also have a variety of drinks available.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine with whatever,¡± I say, unwilling to think about it deeply when the food will be subpar at best, my tastes too accustomed to a succubus¡¯ cooking. The others share similar sentiments and our hostess waves off the serving girl. Her stormy eyes flick over our group before settling on me.

    ¡°I see Kierra isn¡¯t joining us. Is everything alright?¡±

    ¡°Fine. She¡¯s simply handling some business back at the estate. I¡¯m more concerned about the person missing from your side of the table.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re referring to Maxine? She¡¯s out of the city on business.¡±

    ¡°Business?¡±

    The merchant¡¯s sensual lips turn up in a charming smirk. ¡°It surprised me as well, but my sister seemed quite convinced of an opportunity when she departed. I hope it works out for her. First times are always so awkward.¡±

    I clear my throat as I mentally shake off the images conjured by her tone. ¡°Do you know when she¡¯ll be back?¡±

    The smirk turns into a pout. ¡°Not satisfied with one Guiness daughter?¡±

    ¡°Just concerned for a friend.¡±

    ¡°Are we not friends?¡± Marcella leans forward and my eyes unconsciously flick down to her ample chest. ¡°I was hurt to hear I hadn¡¯t been invited to your party, Lou.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have enjoyed it anyway.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I very much doubt that.¡±

    ¡°Hey.¡± I wouldn¡¯t say Alana looks angry, but she certainly isn¡¯t happy. Marcella is unfazed, smile brightening as she faces my annoyed knight. ¡°You said you know something about the hunters?¡± Her words are innocuous but anyone with any social graces can hear the underlying message; quit flirting and make yourself useful.

    I suppose that¡¯s another rejection. I glance at Talia, wondering if the merchant will manage three for three. She seems to have a talent for pissing off my lovers.

    Stolen story; please report.

    Marcella sighs dramatically. ¡°I prefer to mix business with pleasure, but you are my guests. I will abide by your desires.¡± Her expression sobers. ¡°Opinions have been shifting rapidly. Immediately after the March, the guilds were ready to go to war. Hunters with connections to Victory, led by a man named Slaid, worked tirelessly to convince the different leaders that negotiating was the best option. It took a lot of heated arguments and a few brawls, but they finally understood that denying the March would incite war. However, the recent news of the campaign has emboldened them.¡±

    ¡°What recent news?¡± Yulia asks as she leans forward. Allen, who is nodding off while cuddled up to her, startles, either from the movement or the urgency in her voice. The rest of us are similarly interested, though Talia¡¯s expression doesn¡¯t show as much.

    ¡°You do not know? I see.¡± For the first time, Marcella appears hesitant. ¡°It¡­¡± She trails off as the serving girl returns with more cups, mugs and glasses filled with juice and wine. Marcella takes one of the glasses and waits until the girl finishes her work before continuing.

    ¡°My information is scant at best, you all should know well how hard it is to get information out of the fort, but there have been several reports of strange weather patterns. Apparently, the spring storms came early, much earlier than ever before.¡±

    Both James daughters suck in a sharp breath. Neither is happy to receive the news. In fact, Yulia is clearly horrified, eyes wide with fear as she clutches her son tightly.

    ¡°Did my¡ªdid the Northern Devil return?¡± Yulia asks in a hesitant voice.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t received news of his death or any other field commander. I would say that bodes well but for the last week, I haven¡¯t received any word from the north. Nothing at all.¡±

    ¡°No news is good news, right?¡± I ask in a weak attempt to ease the tension over the table. It doesn¡¯t help. Saints damn it all, we need to go back to Victory, don¡¯t we? ¡°We can check on the fort.¡±

    ¡°¡­no,¡± Alana says. Her sister bites her lip but holds her opinion. ¡°Victory has survived the worst the north has thrown at it for five centuries. Experienced healers would be appreciated but they have plenty of their own. Anyone who made it back will be fine and those who didn¡¯t couldn¡¯t be helped by the saints themselves. But it would be good if we could send a messenger to the north to make sure our family is safe.¡±

    ¡°That could be arranged,¡± Marcella says. ¡°So long as there is a way for you to prove that the messenger is there on your behalf. I doubt they will be welcomed otherwise.¡±

    ¡°I will handle it,¡± Yulia says quickly. Her concern is clearly eating at her, but she hasn¡¯t suggested returning home. While I admire her dedication, I don¡¯t understand it. There is nothing that could keep me from running to my lovers if I thought they could be in trouble. Nothing. A reaction that could be called emotional, but Yulia¡¯s calm feels cold to me. Perhaps there is some northern snow in her veins.

    ¡°If the storms caught the armies unaware, there would have been heavy casualties,¡± Alana says. ¡°The hunters from the north would know that. They might convince the guilds that Victory doesn¡¯t have the numbers to march on the city, taking the need for negotiations off the table.¡±

    ¡°A foolish thought,¡± her sister continues. ¡°Even if there were only ten Moons that could fight, they would march and they would fight to their last breath. They couldn¡¯t overwhelm the city, but they would do significant damage. More importantly, the north doesn¡¯t forget. Even if they don¡¯t march immediately, they will in the future. Generation after generation, until the debt is paid. Quest will burn, whether it takes a week, a month, or a century.¡±

    Marcella takes a long drink from her glass and her brows are furrowed when she puts it down. ¡°The hunters don¡¯t care about a year from now. They only care that a young noblewoman that has killed many of their own is coming back with intentions of robbing them blind. Lou¡¯s criminal status isn¡¯t helping. They feel¡­insulted. I doubt I need to explain how much powerful people value their pride and image.¡±

    No, she doesn¡¯t. ¡°I think I need to make something clear,¡± I say, voice carefully neutral. ¡°Our attempts at negotiation are my attempts to live a more virtuous life. It is a mercy. We don¡¯t need the north¡¯s knights to get our way. That is merely a threat they can properly conceive. Let me make this clear. If the hunters don¡¯t satisfy the conditions of the March, I will decimate this city.¡±

    I have to. As cruel as it may seem, it¡¯ll save more lives in the end. ¡°So, if you are as vested in Quest¡¯s prosperity as you claim, you will convince the hunters not to do something stupid and as soon as possible.¡± The longer this drags on, the greater the chance that someone will make a mess of things.

    The merchant smiles at me. ¡°I will do everything I can to aide you.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-69

    Dinner is a short and awkward affair. Alana and Yulia are too worried about the unexpected news to enjoy the meal, which was subpar as expected. Marcella does her best to be a charming hostess but no one¡¯s in the mood. After filling our bellies, we retire to our rooms.

    ¡°Sure you don¡¯t want to go back?¡± I ask Alana again as we¡¯re in bed, Alana in my arms while Talia leans into my back. Though I can¡¯t feel it, it must be a cold night, as my scowling knight cuddles up especially close.

    ¡°¡­I was serious when I said there was nothing I could do. And my family won¡¯t appreciate me returning for sentimental reasons. The best thing we can do for them is handle this March business so there¡¯s one less thing for them to worry about.¡±

    ¡°How bad is it?¡± I ask while running gentle fingers through her hair.

    ¡°Depends. Spring storms are weak at first and ramp up in intensity as the weather warms. If it is the simple winter blizzards but at a higher frequency, then the armies would have turned around to avoid getting lost but will be relatively unharmed. But, if it is a real storm¡­I¡¯ve never walked through one but I¡¯ve read the accounts. Icicles hurled at such speeds they rival arrows. Snow so deep a man can disappear if he doesn¡¯t watch his step. Manabeasts that hunt in the more powerful storms, wielding the wrath of the heavens. They would have been decimated.¡±

    I wince. ¡°How could something like this even happen?¡± Weather patterns don¡¯t just change.

    ¡°I can¡¯t begin to imagine. I¡¯ve never heard of anything like this happening and you better believe if something like this was common, ancestors, even if it was uncommon, there would be records. If this happened before, it would have claimed countless lives and someone would have documented it and every field commander would know of it. Then they would teach everyone in their army about it, so they would know what signs to look for. Then they would teach their trainees and children, so they would recognize the signs.¡±

    I suppose if there was an event that could kill thousands of people unexpectedly, it would be important that everyone with a working pair of eyes kept them trained for any sign of said event.

    ¡°Since I, a James, no knowing about it, there cannot be any record. Which means this had to be a new event. A spontaneous one too. I can¡¯t imagine a sudden event that could change the weather besides powerful magic and that kind of power is well beyond any human caster. Perhaps a titan? But I can¡¯t imagine them suddenly changing their ideal environment. It¡¯s a mess.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡± No. I shouldn¡¯t speak such nonsense aloud. It feels like I¡¯m cursing us.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­a dragon is one thing capable of changing the seasons on a whim.¡±

    Big, blue eyes look up at me with shock before narrowing. ¡°Dammit. Now I can¡¯t think of anything else.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t want to say anything. It¡¯s¡ª" I pause, rising from the bed as my brows furrow.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I think I heard something.¡± It was so faint I can¡¯t make out what it is but my instincts, honed by Kierra¡¯s brutal methods, are telling me that something isn¡¯t right. ¡°Talia.¡±

    Beside me, our flower rises with fluid grace. ¡°Would you like me to search for hostility throughout the hotel?¡±

    It¡¯s like she can read minds, haha. ¡°I¡¯m probably being paranoid¡ª"

    ¡°Paranoid is good when there are really people after you,¡± Alana says as she also sits up, shoulders tense. ¡°Do it.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Talia closes her eyes in focus, still as ice as she casts. As the spell is focused on herself, boosting her ability to ¡®hear¡¯ the mental emissions of others, I don¡¯t feel any effects from her magic, but I can tell she is casting from the slight furrow in her brows. Her eyes open a moment later and she confirms the nagging instinct that prompted me to ask for her help. ¡°There is a group of hostile entities approaching this floor.¡±

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    Alana rolls out of bed, hastily exchanging her sleepwear for clothes better suited for a fight. ¡°How many?¡± I ask.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t have the skill to count individuals at this distance though I can estimate at least six.¡±

    Six? That¡¯s not an opportunist. That¡¯s a coordinated attack. ¡°Get dressed,¡± I say as I also slip out of bed. Across the room, Alana has already secured her sword to her hip and is tying back her hair. ¡°Alana¡ª"

    ¡°Yulia and Allen,¡± she says before she dashes out of the room. I smile as she disappears. She hates her sister but doesn¡¯t hesitate to run to her aide, not even pausing to evaluate the threat we¡¯re facing. It¡¯s that selfless devotion that makes me want to call her saintly.

    Talia and I leave the room shortly after her. I barge into Jac¡¯s room, unwilling to wait for however long it would take to rouse her from the other side of the door. To my cousin¡¯s credit, she immediately startles awake at the loud entry, though she does nothing but stare fearfully at the door. A scream is choked down as her wide eyes narrow in anger. ¡°Lou?! What the f¡ª"

    ¡°No time. Assassins.¡±

    ¡°What?! Wai¡ª"

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain later.¡± I didn¡¯t want her involved in this, but I¡¯ll have to give her an explanation after this mess. ¡°Talia, stay with her.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be safe.¡±

    ¡°Safe? What are you keeping me safe from? Lou¡ª"

    I shut the door on her questions. As I pass by Junior¡¯s room, Geneva exits, softly closing it behind her. She wordlessly falls in step beside me, tail swinging slowly. The sight makes me grit my teeth.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t change anything.¡±

    ¡°Of course not, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°Helping me take care of a threat doesn¡¯t absolve you. I still want answers.¡±

    ¡°And you will have them. We are here to serve you.¡±

    Yeah, so long as it eventually serves you. I¡¯ve never been fooled by her sweet smiles. Beneath it lurks a predator with more teeth than a dragon. ¡°Number?¡±

    ¡°Fourteen.¡±

    Saints, that many? How did they enter the hotel without being noticed? It seems I need to have a few words with Marcella about her security. ¡°Where are they?¡±

    ¡°Ten are two floors below us, separated into a group of seven and three. I assume that the larger group is using the main stairwell while the others must be using stairs reserved for servants. The other four are one floor above. Likely to ambush us if we try to retreat.¡±

    Definitely a coordinated assault. ¡°Are we sure they¡¯re here for me?¡±

    ¡°There is some room for doubt without direct access to their minds, but their hostility is directed at ¡®purple eyes¡¯. A rare description. Besides, I can¡¯t imagine there are two people who have angered the guilds enough to warrant killers being sent after them.¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t suppose we can do this without dragging in the other guests?¡±

    ¡°That depends entirely on our enemies. If they are weak and unorganized, then we can take out each group quickly without alerting the others. But if they are experienced and communicating with each other through some means, then it will be impossible. The stronger they are, the more daunting our task. After your last confrontation with them, I doubt the guilds have sent incompetents. I can smell their magic.¡±

    If they¡¯re stirring her appetite, then they must have pretty developed cores and/or rare affinities. ¡°Do you think that they will chase me if I run?¡± It¡¯d be simple to escape. Or walk right past them in a disguise. I never use it anymore, but I still have access to my original human form, void of any of my more distinguishing characteristics.

    ¡°A noble thought, my summoner, but they are more likely to hurl spells or go for the vulnerable members of your family than chase you through the streets. Especially if word of your display at the March has spread.¡±

    ¡°If that story was spread, they wouldn¡¯t be trying to kill me.¡± They¡¯d know it was beyond them.

    ¡°Or it is precisely why they are targeting you here, away from the authority of Dunwayne, considered the strongest caster in the kingdom, supposedly while you slept. They could not possibly guess the secrets of your body and will have defaulted to a logical assumption, that your regeneration is the result of a powerful physical spell. If you cannot best a caster¡¯s spell, it is better to kill them before they have a chance to cast it.¡±

    A ridiculous idea but this is exactly what I feared. A group that wouldn¡¯t care about waiting for their leaders to negotiate and absent of enough sense to recognize the futility of fighting me. Like stray dogs, they attack anything they perceive as a threat, even if it¡¯s a hand outstretched to help them. No, they¡¯re worse than dogs. Animals at least have the sense to run from the greater predator.

    ¡°The ones above us are staying still so we ignore them for now. I want you to take care of the smaller group while I distract the larger one. When you finish, circle around. I¡¯ll try to diffuse the situation but if they get violent, show no mercy. Any objections?¡±

    ¡°None,¡± the succubus practically purrs.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-70

    Every sense is hyper-focused as I walk through the dark hallways. Normally, instinct allows me to ignore most of what my sensitive ears tell me, the noise an easily ignored jumble unless it catches my attention. Now, everything is carefully parsed, as I don¡¯t know what could be relevant.

    The soft and not so soft snores of those peacefully sleeping, unaware of the potential danger. The moans and creaking wood that speaks of intimate encounters. Whispered conversations of people loathe to leave one another¡¯s company for simple rest and those who prefer to conduct their business under the cover of darkness. And last, my would-be assassins.

    They are incredibly quiet, their footsteps softer than breaths and not a word shared between them. It¡¯s too bad that isn¡¯t enough. Focused as I am, I can hear the rise and fall of their chests and the pounding of their hearts is like a chorus of drums banging next to my ears. Sneaking up on me is an impossible task for people only taking the bare amount of precaution. Something these people should know, if they researched me.

    I¡¯m almost offended. Did they bother to find out anything about the woman they want to kill? I¡¯m not even trying to hide my abilities anymore. It would have been simple to ask around and learn about my prodigious body, but they continue to underestimate, every time.

    Is it truly my fault, as Kierra says? Did I invite all these annoyances onto myself by trying to live a quiet life? Or is my blessing also my curse, and I will never know peace again?

    I¡¯m waiting for them when they step into the hall. With my nightvision ¡®film¡¯, I have no trouble making out the details of their group. Seven, as Geneva said, dressed head to toe in black. Everything but their eyes are hidden by thin dark cloth wrapped around the lower halves of their faces and some kind of wrap over their heads. They have the form of saboteurs, lean and compact muscle ideal for creeping. All of them are armed but their weapons are subtle, the largest of them being a dagger shorter than my forearm sheathed across the small of a man¡¯s back.

    They notice me immediately, which isn¡¯t a surprise. Apparently, the ¡®film¡¯ that allows me to see in the dark makes my eyes incredibly noticeable. I wonder what they are thinking as they stare at a pair of unnatural eyes glowing in the darkness, the body they belong to still obscured. Unfortunately, it¡¯s not to abandon their mission, as the killer in the lead draws a knife.

    ¡°My name is Lou¡ª"

    That¡¯s all I get out before the knife is thrown at me. It¡¯s aimed for my throat and flies true, it¡¯s flight impressively straight. Clearly, this man has some skill, but it isn¡¯t nearly enough.

    With contemptuous ease, I snap the blade out of the air. I can tell he¡¯s startled by the display by the way his eyes widen. Normally, I enjoy surprising people, but his shock only frustrates me. Why are these dumb bastards targeting me without knowing what I can do? Why are they wasting my time?

    ¡°Do that again and I kill you,¡± I pronounce in a flat voice. I wait a moment to see if another knife is going to be thrown but nothing happens. Oh, they¡¯re still moving, the members in the back shifting the slightest amount but as they¡¯re not attacking, I take it as my opportunity to negotiate.

    ¡°Let me make this clear,¡± I say, my voice soft to keep from disturbing those in the rooms next to us but carrying in the silence. ¡°Unless every single one of you is a master caster that can annihilate a creature down to its last strand of hair, you are not qualified to kill me. I don¡¯t even know what can kill me but I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s the bare minimum. If you try, you are all going to die and innocent people who have nothing to do with this are going to get involved. If you have any pride as hunters and so-called defenders of the kingdom, then you will turn around and let your leaders talk this mess out with me. And if you don¡¯t give a damn about the kingdom, think about yourselves and your families. Is this really how you want your life to end? For your last act to be trying to kill an innocent woman?¡±

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    Again, the group doesn¡¯t attack immediately but dread knots in my stomach. They aren¡¯t talking. They don¡¯t even look at each other, their gazes never leaving me. These idiots aren¡¯t even considering my offer, are they? Are they letting me talk to take me by surprise? Or are they communicating with their allies and waiting for reinforcements?

    What do I do? Do I rush them? No, I could be wrong. What if they are considering retreating? This was supposed to be a stealthy endeavor but that¡¯s gone out of the window. Perhaps they¡¯re telling the others to retreat. I can¡¯t be the one to start the violence.

    But is that naivete when all my instincts, both the reflexes honed by the copious amounts of violence in the short time since my transformation and the subtle cues of their body language, are telling me that they¡¯re getting ready to attack? At what point have I done enough? How much leeway do the strong owe the weak and ignorant before it¡¯s right to strike them down?

    Does it even matter? These people were going to slit my throat in my sleep. Alana and Talia share my bed. Would they have been spared? Of course not. They would have made as much impossible, as they would have done everything they could to protect me, never mind that I don¡¯t need protecting. Even if they weren¡¯t threats and promised to never breathe a word of what happened, they would still be witnesses. Any assassin worth the gold to pay them would ensure they didn¡¯t have the opportunity to talk.

    Then there are the other people with me. Jac, Yulia, and Allen. Would they have also been killed? If not by these assassins, then by the hunters emboldened by my death?

    My ruminations are interrupted as the assassins act. My fears are confirmed when they make no move to retreat. Instead, three rush forward, their bodies covering the width of the hall. I¡¯ll have to go through them to reach the four in the back whose eyes glow with their intentions to throw around magic.

    Unfortunately for them, that isn¡¯t a daunting task at all.

    I slam into the thin wall of flesh meant to keep me at bay. The assassin in the middle who takes the brunt of my charge is crushed, his chest caved in as he crumples to the ground. If that blow didn¡¯t kill him, my foot crushing his skull as I run past definitely finishes the job.

    I¡¯m too fast for them to finish their spells, whatever they were meant to be, but they¡¯re professionals. One of them throws something to the ground and smoke bursts around us in an acrid cloud that stings my eyes. An annoyance but not nearly enough to stop me. My ears are more than enough to track them. My hand blindly grabs one by the shoulder. A simple squeeze is enough to shatter the bone under my palm but the only sound the man makes is a grunt of pain. His fearfully pounding heart is silenced as I punch his head, easily shattering his skull and smushing his brain like spoiled fruit.

    Someone grabs me from behind, one of the assassins I blew past, and a knife is jabbed against my throat. Against, because the tip can¡¯t break the skin. Before the poor fool can understand his mistake, I grab him by the face, then by the neck with my opposite hand. A simple twist of the wrist ends his life and I throw the corpse aside. The third assassin meant to stop me is staying still. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s injured or if he¡¯s smart enough to stay out of the way. It doesn¡¯t matter.

    The hunters need to understand that there is no fighting me. I don¡¯t want to be a villain that callously kills anyone that annoys me but, as the bandits we encountered on our way back to the city proved, mercy means nothing without the might to back it up. These men didn¡¯t want to be an example of my mercy, so they will be an example of my might. And the consequences of underestimating me.

    The assassin trying to go unnoticed is dispatched by a swift kick to the head. Then I give chase to the other three.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-71

    As I run after them, Geneva¡¯s magic touches my mind, sharing her awareness with me. I can hear the pounding hearts of the fleeing assassins but now I also have a general sense of their location, the information flowing into me. Along with it is a sense of Geneva herself as she rapidly approaches from the opposite staircase. She¡¯s already taken down the group of three I sent her after.

    Our prey isn¡¯t blind to my pursuit. A single breath is all it takes for them to realize they can¡¯t outrun me, so they switch tactics. The three survivors break apart, diving into separate rooms. There are screams and curses as the occupants are woken by the sudden entry, but the assassins don¡¯t pause to explain themselves.

    I guess they are preparing to leap from the windows of the rooms and Geneva agrees with me. In less than a second, we agree on our targets and I follow after one of the assassins. A naked man stands beside the bed where a woman is hiding her own nakedness behind a raised sheet. His face flushes with anger when I burst into the room but before he can utter a full word, I throw myself out of a window with broken shutters.

    I¡¯m right behind the assassin, who is just starting to sprint away as I land. He¡¯s fast, fast enough to leave a hunting dog panting in distress.

    Still slow as a stumbling child to me.

    Fire erupts on one of his hands as I grab the back of the fleeing assassin¡¯s collar. My eyes instinctively close as a spell is thrown at my face, the pleasant heat warming my skin but doing no damage.

    The second spell has more force than heat, snapping my head back as it detonates. I feel something pop and then relief as a tension I didn¡¯t even notice is eased. ¡°Huh. Hey, do you mind sharing that spell? Felt pretty good.¡±

    ¡°¡­monster,¡± he whispers, the first word I¡¯ve heard any of the disguised men speak.

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been trying to tell you people. Going to share that spell?¡±

    His answer is to try and put a knife through my eye.

    I snap his neck and drop the corpse, an action that is becoming far too common place in my life. How many more times will I do this before this is over?

    I can¡¯t dwell on the dark thoughts long. I caught my prey first, which means I have to catch the third. Geneva can still sense the assassin¡¯s mind, but I don¡¯t need her help. He isn¡¯t nearly as quiet when he¡¯s running for his life, feet pounding against the street.

    I give chase. He¡¯s had enough time to create some space between us, but I can run all day and night faster than a sprinting wolf. It won¡¯t take that long, especially as I¡¯m not taking a direct route. With a powerful leap, I soar over the roof of a wide and squat building, landing on the next street over. Further down the road, I see a dark figure just before it turns a corner.

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    A sudden surge of sadistic glee curls the corners of my lips as I run after him. If his footsteps were loud, mine are deafening, each step bruising the poor road beneath me. He can hear me gaining on him. I can tell from the fearful beating of his heart and the steady stream of curses uttered between harsh breaths. I slam into him from behind, his scream a cross between the screech of a frightened maiden and the squealing of a pig facing a butcher¡¯s blade.

    ¡°Please!¡± His voice is muffled as I grab the back of his head, but his desperation is clear. ¡°I have a family!¡±

    Despite everything, I pause. My first, instinctive reaction to his words is sympathy for the wife and children that will wake up in the morning wondering where their husband and father are. Then comes the anger. Anger is becoming more common and I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s because of me or the unending troubles I have to wade through.

    ¡°Why are you doing this then?¡± I hiss as I lean down next to his ear. ¡°If you care about returning to them, why do this disgusting job? Why come after me?¡±

    ¡°Hunters¡­kill monsters,¡± he pants out. ¡°But not¡­every monster¡­is a beast.¡±

    ¡°And you all think I¡¯m a monster?¡± After all I¡¯ve done for these people.

    ¡°You killed dozens of hunters and injured hundreds more.¡± His voice is smoother now that he¡¯s had a chance to catch his breath. His body tenses beneath me. This chat is just a ruse meant to buy time. I know it. Any moment now, he¡¯s going to try and kill me again. But I need to know. ¡°You¡¯re at the center of a northern plot to take our homes and the clothes off our backs. Do you know what happens to this city if you cripple the guilds? What happens to the kingdom? If you aren¡¯t a monster, then what are you?¡±

    He¡¯s ready. The subtle way he shifts, angling his hand towards me, tells me he¡¯s going to cast his spell. I know it but I can¡¯t be sure. Not without seeing the glowing of his eyes or reading his mind.

    I smash his head into the road anyway.

    I killed someone¡¯s father. Tomorrow, a little girl is going to wake up to a world where her father is gone forever. The thought hollows something inside but anger surges to fill the empty space. So much anger it spills out of me in a powerful roar.

    The emotion is so strong that I can¡¯t express it with words, shouting an indecipherable babble at the corpse that can¡¯t answer me. It¡¯s stupid to expect a response but the silence angers me anyway and before I know it, my foot is colliding with his stomach. The dead man is punted so hard that he flies, smacking into the side of a building so hard that the gray stone is splattered red.

    Hypocritical bastard. He wants me to spare him because of his family but what about my family? What about Alana, who chose me over the James? What about Kierra, so deathly afraid of losing me? What about Talia, who forsook every other opportunity in her life for what I promised her?

    What makes his family more important than mine? Than my life? I¡¯ve gone out of my way to police myself, to use my power responsibly. What has that gotten me? Trouble and undue hatred.

    If I¡¯m going to be the villain either way, why should I give a damn about these people?

    [Lou. The rest of the assassins have been dealt with and Marcella Guiness is asking for a meeting.]

    The building I painted with the hunter¡¯s blood is lit from inside on the second floor. A quick glance confirms this isn¡¯t a residential area. Must be a combination of a home and shop. Won¡¯t be long until someone comes out the front door to investigate. They¡¯ll see me, the woman with the strange eyes and blood on her hands. One more mark against my reputation.

    The thought makes me sneer, but I walk away before anyone can join me on the quiet road. Geneva, keep Marcella and whatever muscle she brought with her away from the others. While I doubt it, there¡¯s no guarantee that she didn¡¯t have something to do with the hunters trying to kill us.

    She¡¯s damn right we¡¯re going to have a ¡°meeting¡±.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-72

    The hotel is in an uproar when I return.

    Crashing into people¡¯s rooms in the middle of the night is sure to rouse the floor. A servant screaming after finding dead bodies on the stairwell is sure to rouse everyone. I can hear the panicked conversations and entitled shouting from the street. The lobby is a whirlwind of activity, as people bombard the poor bastard manning the front desk with questions and others hurry to leave, disregarding their modesty as they walk amongst their peers in their night clothes.

    Few take notice of me in the chaos and those that do give me strange glances. They quickly turn away when I meet their gazes. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s my scorched clothing, as my shirts aren¡¯t nearly as durable as I am, or something in my eyes that gives them pause but the crowd unconsciously makes space for me to pass.

    The closer I get to my floor, the louder it gets. My mood becomes gloomier the closer I get to the epicenter of the drama. By the time I arrive and see Marcella standing outside of Jac¡¯s room with two men beside her and Talia blocking the way inside, I¡¯m in a thoroughly bad mood.

    ¡°Lou, what¡ª"

    ¡°You don¡¯t get to ask questions yet,¡± I snap as I stomp past her. My eyes are focused on Talia, flicking over her appearance.

    ¡°All is well and everyone is fine,¡± she answers before I have the chance to ask, soothing some of my bad mood.

    ¡°Go inside,¡± I tell her. The sight of her disappearing behind the door and the soft click of the lock being engaged soothes me further. I know she can handle herself but having our flower fighting, for herself or others, rubs me the wrong way. I¡¯ve spent too much time with that elf. Her strange ideas are infecting me. Something about everyone playing their proper role feels good.

    I can hear her calming down Jac as I turn to face Marcella. There¡¯s no trace of her usual charm as she stares me down and her expression is cautious. The two men beside her are grave and somber. Once is trying to hide his anger, but his eyes give him away. Suppose he doesn¡¯t appreciate me not treating his lady with the respect he feels she deserves.

    ¡°I was attacked by a group of fourteen individuals,¡± I state in a slow, controlled manner. Marcella isn¡¯t the enemy and I don¡¯t want to treat her like one, but it¡¯s not easy. Right now, everyone feels like an enemy. ¡°Do you want to tell me how fourteen assassins can sneak into your hotel under your nose?¡±

    Marcella¡¯s lips twitch in distaste. ¡°We are investigating¡ª"

    ¡°Investigating?¡± I step forward, using every bit of my height to give my glare extra power. To her credit, Marcella¡¯s expression remains placid. If she¡¯s intimidated, she hides it well. Something that increases my opinion of the merchant, but it doesn¡¯t show through my irritation. ¡°How can you be investigating if you¡¯re standing here bothering the targets of these idiots? You know who¡¯s behind this. Go badger them and let us get the sleep that was rudely interrupted.¡±

    ¡°Believe me, Lou. We are talking to all involved parties. I promise, the guildmasters won¡¯t be sleeping until I get answers. But for me to find those responsible, I need your cooperation. Please help me.¡±

    She bows her head and the men beside her stiffen. I sneer at them. Marcella is doing everything she can to diffuse the situation, but they are not helping. Their body language is screaming their intention to commit violence on her behalf and my fingers twitch with the instinct to act first, eliminate the threats before they can cause any harm.

    ¡°You can come in. I have to explain the situation to Jac anyway. Your guard dogs can wait outside.¡±

    Marcella raises her head with a smile. ¡°Agreed.¡±

    ¡°My lady¡ª"

    ¡°You will wait,¡± she says without bothering to face the guard who spoke and his mouth closes, lips pressing into a frown. ¡°Fetch us some tea, the Lady in White. Lou, after you.¡±

    I let out of huff of a breath before opening the door to Jac¡¯s room. I wave for the merchant to proceed, flashing the two guards a smile full of intentions before closing the door on their twin glares.

    Inside, Talia is perched on the end of Jac¡¯s bed while my cousin paces beside her. She¡¯s changed from her sleepwear into simple clothes, the boots on her feet proclaiming her readiness to flee into the night. My heart clenches in sympathy at the sight. Jac¡¯s been through enough. I wanted to shelter her from this. With all of my strength, I should have been able to. But I hesitated. As Kierra said, who will fear a dragon pretending to be an exotic lizard? No one, until it starts breathing fire.

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    ¡°Lou!¡± Her voice is filled relief and exasperation, but she keeps her distance, staring at Marcella curiously.

    ¡°Forgive me for the late intrusion,¡± Marcella says, ignoring the awkwardness of her entrance as she casually strides over to small desk in the room, turning the chair in front of it so it faces us before sitting down. ¡°There was a small incident in the hotel and I need to ask everyone a few questions.¡±

    I nod when Jac looks to me and she relaxes. After a moment to evaluate her options, she decides to take a seat next to Talia. ¡°So?¡± she asks, once she¡¯s comfortable, but I notice her boots stay on. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    That¡¯s my cue. ¡°¡­best I start at the beginning. Which means we need to talk about what happened before I went north.¡±

    I explain everything. Starting with the night Howie bribed me to act as security while he negotiated with the guilds and how said negotiations broke down. How Sara came to us a hysteric mess in the middle of the night crying that the half-goblin had been kidnapped and the guards weren¡¯t doing a damn thing about it. How we rescued him, killing several hunters and a guildmaster in the process. And finally, how their revenge led to the March and the consequences of that particular tradition.

    Sometime in the middle of my explanation, there¡¯s a knock on the door. I pause to answer it and find a young boy holding a tea tray. The guards are still in the same places, their glares instantly finding me. I resist the urge to do something petty as I take the tray. Talia stands as I set it on the desk and serves everyone as I get back to my explanation. Jac takes the cup but otherwise ignores it, entirely focused on my words.

    The explanation concludes with what happened tonight. ¡°When their ambush failed, they tried to escape, using the other guests as distractions. I wasn¡¯t keen on letting them get away so we chased them into the streets. I don¡¯t know what happened to the four still in the hotel.¡±

    ¡°Fen says they retreated but remain in the hotel,¡± Talia helpfully supplies before taking a sip of her tea, clearly unfazed by the situation.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already ordered a search of the hotel, but that is unexpected. If they are comfortable remaining in the building, they must be hiding in rooms. That means they are either guests or receiving help from guests, either through cooperation or coercion,¡± Marcella whispers, just as calm as my flower as she analyzes the situation.

    Jac is decidedly not calm. Her expression is stricken, a deep fear in her eyes. ¡°Fucking saints, Lou. What in the soul-sucking Abyss are you involved in? Knights of the north marching on Quest? You do know that if that happens¡ª"

    ¡°It¡¯ll look like Victory is declaring war on the kingdom and could incite civil war? Yes, I¡¯m not an idiot.¡± Why do you think I¡¯m trying so hard to conclude these negotiations quickly and with a minimum of loss?

    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± she grouses. ¡°Someone from the palace should be here. Maybe a royal advisor. Or one of the princes.¡±

    ¡°Because the royal family are such trustworthy individuals,¡± I say, the sarcasm in my tone so thick it practically drips from my lips.

    Jac throws her hands up. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t trust the king as far as I could throw him when it comes to our family, but this isn¡¯t about us. The whole saints damned kingdom is at risk. Somebody more important than us should be handling these negotiations.¡±

    ¡°Somebody more important?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that. You¡¯re out of your depth, Lou. The assassins are evidence enough of that. You¡¯re a summoner and a good one, but what the hell do you know about negotiations? There are people who train for this, who dedicate their whole lives to it. You need to step aside and let someone more qualified handle this before you get yourself kill¡ª"

    ¡°Enough!¡± I snap, cutting her off. I don¡¯t know why her looking down on me irritates me so much. ¡°I don¡¯t need someone to sweep in and rescue me,¡± I growl. ¡°This is something I have to do. We are the executors of the March. The north won¡¯t accept outsiders settling the debt.¡±

    ¡°Do you hear yourself? You¡¯re one of those outsiders.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±

    ¡°Why? Because you¡¯re sleeping with a James daughter? You need to cut your loses¡ª"

    This time, I don¡¯t use angry words. A beastly sound comes from my throat. Something that would sound ridiculous with my human throat, but the power of my new body gives it a depth and power that could rival any monster. Jac flinches and there¡¯s a heavy pounding on the door.

    ¡°Lady Guiness! Is everything alright?¡±

    ¡°May I?¡± Marcella asks me. Still outwardly calm but speaking softly, with the caution one reserves for wild animals that could attack at any moment. That, and Jac¡¯s subtle fear, are gratifying. I nod to her and the merchant moves to the door, opening it to have a quiet conversation with her guards.

    ¡°Alana is my family,¡± I state, each word bitten off. ¡°And as much as I¡¯d rather not, that means I claim the rest of those insane Victorians too. This is my business and I will handle it. Besides, I doubt the king would be willing to intercede on behalf a criminal.¡±

    ¡°¡­the succubi. Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? You don¡¯t have to do this.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing. I do. Relax, cousin. I¡¯m not the one you need to be worried about. Our would-be assassins are the ones lying dead in the streets.¡±

    If I ever doubted that I had changed from the unassuming noblewoman of the past, the way Jac looks at me as I casually talk about murdering others would convince me otherwise.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-73

    To Marcella¡¯s credit, I¡¯m not the only one she bothers. Once she determines that there may be killers hiding amongst her guests, no one¡¯s night goes undisturbed. The Guiness daughter is usually soft but with her territory having been infringed upon, all the might and privilege of a high noble is brought out of her.

    It doesn¡¯t matter who it is, wealthy nobles, privileged hunters, fellow merchants. All of them are made to step into the hall in their nightclothes while her men search the rooms one by one, securing one floor at a time. Arrogant whining and promises of retribution are ignored as she wields her authority with impunity. They can squawk as loud as they want but none of them has the audacity to go against the golden family.

    I loan her Geneva for her hunt. With the assassins shifting their focus from killing me to hiding, she can no longer track them by their aggression and their anxious fear matches the dozens of startled guests. However, that is only at a distance. At close range, she assures me that she can recognize their minds. Someone¡¯s thought emissions are apparently more distinctive than a face.

    Unbelievable but it must be true, as the succubus is unable to directly lie to me. Her methods prove effective. Marcella¡¯s guards get the opportunity to vent their frustrations and the hotel takes a little damage as the would-be assassins are caught. It takes nearly an hour, but Marcella returns to report her success. One assassin is taken into custody. The other three were killed when they tried to escape.

    ¡°Where is he?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lou. We are experienced in questioning saboteurs. This will all be handled by morning.¡±

    Her confidence puts Jac at ease, my cousin flopping backward onto her bed and muttering, ¡°Thank the saints.¡± Her readiness to divest herself of the problem is a little annoying, surely she can¡¯t think it¡¯s that easy, but I leave her be.

    ¡°We need to question your captive.¡±

    ¡°As I said¡ª"

    ¡°You have capable interrogators. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re great but are they better than a master of the mental affinity?¡±

    The merchant doesn¡¯t frown, evidence of her incredible self-control, but there is disapproval in her eyes. ¡°Interrogation through the mental affinity is a crime, Lou.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to commit it, just to get out of the way.¡±

    ¡°That alone is enough to make me complicit.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be complicit if you¡¯re coerced.¡±

    ¡°Am I being coerced?¡± she asks, a hint of challenge in her voice.

    ¡°If not giving you a choice makes things easier, yes.¡± Wanton use of the mental affinity is a disgusting thing. I personally take offense to the innocent having their freedom stripped from them by some amoral puppeteer pulling strings in their mind. This belief doesn¡¯t extend to enemies. When someone tries to kill me, they have no right to complain about what methods I use to defend myself. I¡¯ll happily let Geneva turn the poor bastard inside out if it lowers the chance that someone kills a member of my family by the slightest fraction.

    ¡°¡­I will have him turned over to you.¡±

    What is that look? Annoyance for being dragged into a potentially problematic situation? Disapproval for my unsavory tactics? Caution having realized I won¡¯t make for easy prey? A lot harder to wrap someone around your fingers when they can crack open your skull and read all the dirty intentions inside.

    I¡¯d never do something like that, I have standards, but I doubt she¡¯s thinking about what I won¡¯t do right now, only what I can.

    ¡°And of course, consider your bill paid. I wouldn¡¯t dream of taking your gold after subjecting you to such terrible service.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Are the other patrons getting the same compensation.¡±

    ¡°Yes. The Golden Feathers has reputation to uphold.¡±

    That¡¯s a lot of crowns she¡¯s tossing out the window. I don¡¯t imagine the loss is enough to seriously impact her coin purse, let alone the Guiness family treasury, but it is substantial. From what I saw and heard, the hotel is full of guests. It¡¯s a grand gesture, which again shows her competence. Nothing soothes the battered egos of the powerful like a grand gesture.

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    ¡°I appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°Then I will leave you to what remains of the night. If there is anything you need, please, do not hesitate to call on me.¡±

    ¡°Saints¡¯ blessed asses,¡± Jac swears once Marcella departs. ¡°You know, I thought your little alliance with Junior was a good thing, a Tome finally getting one over the bastards, but I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d become a Grimoire.¡±

    Don¡¯t. Stay calm. She doesn¡¯t know what she¡¯s saying. ¡°Given what you¡¯ve gone through, I¡¯m going to try very hard not to take offense to that. You know me so you know how hard I¡¯ll have to try.¡±

    She at least has the decency to wince. ¡°¡­what do you expect me to think?¡±

    ¡°I expect you to understand that there is a difference between keeping a harem of mindfucked farmers¡¯ daughters in my basement and interrogating someone who tried to kill me. Kill us, probably. I don¡¯t know how judicious an assassin¡¯s blade is.¡±

    Her light brown eyes flick over to Talia, seeming drawing strength from the other woman¡¯s composure. ¡°You¡¯re right. I shouldn¡¯t have said that but¡­this makes me nervous. Lou, what are you thinking? I know you¡¯re stronger than you used to be. Maybe a lot stronger. The Lou I know wouldn¡¯t dream of causing such a mess unless you knew you were untouchable so I won¡¯t argue whether you can do this. I want to know where it ends.¡±

    What is she talking about? ¡°I don¡¯t have time for word games.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a game!¡± Jac shouts, jumping to her feet. ¡°I¡¯m serious. Have you thought about what happens after? So, you complete this March and snatch fifty percent of the guilds¡¯ resources. You¡¯re not trying to start a war so, what, thirty? Maybe twenty-five? And this is after you openly challenge the governing lord of the city. What happens to this city¡¯s power structure when a small group, of women no less, makes them all look like incompetents? You know as well as I do that there are rogue elements in the city that will take advantage of any weakness. This city will be plunged into chaos!

    ¡°And that¡¯s the tip of the shit mountain. You¡¯re a criminal. Your elementals go against the king¡¯s law by simply existing. That¡¯s what you need to be focusing on. Either striking a deal with the crown or getting out of the kingdom. Unless you think you can fight the king too.¡±

    ¡°And what if that¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m going to do?¡± I snap, thoroughly annoyed. ¡°I¡¯m not the one who needs to be afraid.¡±

    Jac massages her forehead. ¡°Alright, Lou. You¡¯re beyond strong. You¡¯re the strongest being in the kingdom. You, alone, can best every soldier and knight the royal family can throw at you. So, what? What¡¯s the plan, oh mighty cousin? You slap the king around a little bit until he leaves you alone?¡±

    ¡°Yes, actually.¡± If that¡¯s what it takes.

    ¡°This is why I¡¯m upset, Lou. What happens after that? What about everyone else? You think your little stunt with the north might cause a war? What do you think happens if the royal knights are incapacitated or, worse, killed? The nobles will take advantage of your tantrum. Or does it not matter as long as Lou is safe and well, having the time of her life?¡±

    ¡°Did you find that saintly heart by the side of the road or have you been hiding it this whole time?¡± I scoff. Jac takes a step back as I stare her down. There it is again. That worrisome satisfaction. ¡°You¡¯ve always been smart, Jac. And you¡¯re right. As long as me and mine are safe and well, having the time of our lives, I don¡¯t give a damn. Not about this city, not about the kingdom, and certainly not about the king. I don¡¯t care what happens after. The only end I care about is my family living to obscenely old ages and dying with smiles on our faces. If anyone gets in the way of that, they will be crushed and damn the consequences. So I suggest, dear cousin, you don¡¯t. Get. In. The. Way.¡±

    She flinches with each word that I bite off. That¡¯s right. I¡¯m not like you who needs to go galivanting across the sea in search of a forgotten legacy. All the power I need is inside me and I won¡¯t be the only person in this kingdom that doesn¡¯t use her power for her own ends.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    Talia¡¯s melodic voice is like balm on an itchy wound the way it sweeps aside the tension between Jac and I. Her delicate fingers ease my tense shoulders with the slightest touch and she forces all of my attention onto her as she leans into me.

    ¡°We are with you,¡± she says and the last of my negative feelings recede. ¡°We understand.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that because you¡¯re our flower¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Her fingers begin a simple massage. I can¡¯t feel it, she¡¯s far too weak for that, but her intention is comforting. ¡°The business of our house is for our house to understand. My peers fail to grasp the concept of a flower. Most of the kingdom still mistake Kierra for a princess.¡± I snicker softly at the reminder. ¡°Your cousin does not understand us, but it is not her place to. Is it not enough that she is safe and free to pursue her own dreams?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°They will be delivering the assassin soon.¡±

    That¡¯s right. There¡¯s still work to do. ¡°Jac, it¡¯s late. If you want to continue this conversation, we can do it tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª"

    ¡°But I suggest you don¡¯t,¡± I snap, brutally cutting her off. ¡°This, all of this? It has nothing to do with you. Keep it that way.¡±

    ¡°¡­goodnight, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Sleep well, knowing your crazy cousin keeps the knives at bay.¡± A petty parting shot but that pesky satisfaction makes my lips curl up despite the childish behavior as I leave the room.

    Talia takes my hand as we walk down the hall. As her fingers intertwine with mine, I realize she¡¯s right. What I do, what I have, what I want, may not be understood by many. And it¡¯s not their place to.

    All these fools need to be concerned with is stepping aside when we pass.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-74

    He doesn¡¯t look like an assassin.

    It¡¯s not just the ropes binding him to the chair and his lack of clothes, Alana insisting on stripping him to find hidden weapons, never mind said weapons aren¡¯t a danger to anyone with me and Geneva in the room. He simply isn¡¯t¡­intimidating. His slight frame and lack of height combined with an unassuming face, bah. A killer should look fierce. His glare should be enough to cut a man in half.

    Not¡­this.

    At least he has the composure of a professional. Despite trembling in the slight chill for several minutes, his eyes remain steady and he hasn¡¯t tried to utter a single plea for mercy from behind his gag. The air about him is heavy with dread as he awaits his fate.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be here for this. Either of you.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not leaving my sight,¡± Alana proclaims from where she¡¯s leaning against the wall. Still armed, despite the threats having been neutralized but I know better than to tell her to relax.

    ¡°It should be an interesting lesson,¡± Talia adds from her perch at the end of the bed.

    ¡°¡­you heard. Speak up for the class, pet.¡±

    Geneva, standing next to the bound man, smiles indulgently. ¡°Of course, my summoner. A little review never hurts. Then, will you explain the two ways to apply mental magic?¡±

    My eyes narrow but the succubus isn¡¯t fazed in the least, tail whipping slowly with amusement. This Abyss-damned creature. One moment she is yanking on my emotions like a child with a toy and the next, she¡¯s the embodiment of understanding and patience as she plays the role of teacher. How do I punish something like her? How do I bring her in line? How do I win?

    ¡°Mental magic can be used internally or externally. Internal magic focuses on boosting the mental capabilities of the caster. It can also be used to control mental processes, though dipping your fingers in your own mind is dangerous. External use can be used to bolster or dampen mental capabilities but is severely hampered by the need for mana intrusion.¡±

    ¡°A wonderful answer. There are two ways to interrogate someone using mental magic. The first is using internal magic to make yourself more sensitive to their thought emissions.¡± Fire sparks to life around her, the flames forming numbers and letters. A spell. Ah, I should have¡ª

    ¡°Here you are, Lou.¡±

    Fen extends a piece of paper. Written in beautiful cursive script is the spell, as well as several others, though there are strange gaps in a couple of them.

    ¡°¡­thanks.¡±

    The second succubus steps back, fading into the background with impeccable skill, and Geneva quickly recaptures my attention. ¡°The benefit of the first method is that the spell itself is relatively simple. This¡ª" A finger points to the densest clump of variables in the spell made of flames. ¡°¡ªis the most complicated part of the spell. It defines the part of the brain that can understand thought emissions. Luckily, there is no benefit from understanding each part besides the academic. It also scales simply. The more magic you pour into the spell, the more sensitive you become to the emissions.¡±

    ¡°Simply, but not easily,¡± I grumble. It¡¯s a channeled spell, which means mana must be continuously supplied to maintain its effect. That scaling applies to mana per second. Something like that can drain a core before a caster realizes what¡¯s happening.

    ¡°This method is best utilized in conjunction with mundane interrogation tactics, using it in small burst to detect falsehoods or direct questioning. Of course, it has the obvious weakness of being reliant on the caster¡¯s interrogation skills. Personally, I have found that the proper application of pain is best. Nothing focuses the mind like pain and the threat of death.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Mmph!¡±

    Our captor finally makes a sound, the casual discussion of torture enough to break his composure. We ignore him.

    The flames around Geneva transform into the next spell on the list. ¡°Now, the most common external spell. It is quite similar to the previous spell in that it allows the caster to better interpret the thought emissions of their target, but it does so by creating a connection between the caster and the target. That connection makes reading the target¡¯s thoughts infinitely easier to read, but it requires exponentially more in mana to create and maintain.¡±

    ¡°A base cost of 50 mana that scales depending on the mana of the target you have to overcome?¡± I mutter in disbelief.

    ¡°That is a spell that has been optimized by myself over centuries. Many are not so efficient. I once knew a creature the equivalent of your masters in its society, considered the best in the field of mind magic, whose own spell has an initial cost of two hundred mana.¡±

    If I didn¡¯t know it already, her little comment would perfectly how much of a monster Geneva is. And how valuable. ¡°Well, it¡¯s still too much for me.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. When it comes to any spell requiring a connection, time is essential, as no creature has a bottomless core. It requires practice before it becomes more efficient than internal use.¡±

    ¡°When you say practice¡ª"

    ¡°Unless you are particularly talented in the area like Umphrieltalia, then you are looking at decades of dedicated study. The mind is a complex opponent, no matter how meager the intelligence of the creature wielding it.¡±

    Was that an insult? I feel like it was. Or maybe I¡¯m too sensitive to the succubus¡¯ words after our argument. ¡°What are these other spells?¡± There are six of them, divided into two groups of three.

    ¡°You are dedicated to growing stronger now that there are dragons to fight, hm? Then those are the essential spells you must learn. The first three are internal spells. Fen can explain them later.¡±

    She knows I¡¯m planning something, even if I¡¯m not sure what that something is. Saints, of course she does. She practically dared me to. Why? She always has an angle. What does she get out of forcing me to take a harder stance against her actions?

    ¡°For now, we have a mind to search.¡± Her pink eyes gain an alluring glow. The bound assassin pushes against the rope as the succubus approaches him but his struggles amount of nothing. His eyes start to glow but the moment I register it, his face snaps to the side from the force of Geneva¡¯s tail whipping him across the face.

    ¡°None of that,¡± she coos as her hand gently strokes the cheek she just bruised. He shivers as his chin is grasped in her dainty claws, pinching the skin without breaking it. ¡°This is going to happen. No one, not your fellow hunters, not your guildmaster, not even your saints, can save you from me. There is only one thing you can do for yourself now. Behave, and this doesn¡¯t have to hurt. But fight me¡­¡±

    The assassin screams behind his gag as his body goes rigid. Every muscle is tensed as he strains against his binding, veins pulsing near his eyes as his face is flushed with blood. It last for five breaths. Then he slumps into the chair, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.

    ¡°Shhh.¡± Geneva¡¯s claws comb through his short dark hair as she holds his head to her small chest. The man shakes in her hold but doesn¡¯t dare fight back, the memory of whatever he endured petrifying him. ¡°I can make that last all night. And all day. You can spend the rest of a very long life being torn apart and stitched back together, over and over, until your mind shatters from the horror. Is that what you want?¡±

    ¡°MMPH!¡± the poor assassin shouts, shaking his head in the negative for good measure. It¡¯s almost enough to make me feel sorry for him. Almost.

    ¡°Then be a good boy and answer my questions. Ah ah, not with your voice. Focus on the answers. Give your mind over to me.¡±

    Seeing she¡¯s prepared to start her questioning, I cast the first spell. There is a small pinch as the mana is drained from my core and the effect is immediate.

    Using the minimum amount of mana to activate the spell, I grasp only the vaguest hints of the thought around me. From Talia, I detect interest in the proceedings and that her attention is focused on Geneva. Alana is much harder to read as she is a jumble of emotions. I think¡­anger is the strongest amongst them. Or perhaps that¡¯s anxiety. I can¡¯t imagine my stalwart knight is happy with what she¡¯s witnessing. She¡¯d cut an enemy down in a heartbeat but torturing a man? She may recognize it as a necessity, but I doubt she approves. She was raised in the north, where conflicts are settled out in the open. These things done in the shadows must go against everything she was raised to believe.

    The succubi are impenetrable. Mentally, they are voids to my newly heightened sense. A part of me wonders if they¡¯re intentionally shielding themselves from me but the worry is quickly dismissed. At my level, I can¡¯t ascertain anything of relevance. It¡¯s much more likely that this is either another passive defense or they¡¯re simply accustomed to shielding their thoughts. If I lived in a world where my peers all had mental affinities and centuries to develop their magic, mental defenses would be important to me as well.

    ¡°Let¡¯s begin. A simple question to start. What is your name?¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-75

    His name is Winter, unimaginatively named for the season he was born in, and his story is rather unremarkable. Like many other hunters, he is a boy from a simple family that wanted more than a legacy of hard work and minimal opportunities. Growing up, he didn¡¯t mind the sight of blood when it was his turn to slaughter the chickens and he was never scared to forage outside the village despite his mother warning him that monsters would make a meal of him, so he figured he would make a decent hunter.

    When he came of age, he ventured into the city and joined One For All, as they have the least stringent requirements for new members. That was important because he didn¡¯t think of himself as particularly talented and had no training to speak of. However, as he diligently attended the free training the guild offered and completed simple requests, another group took notice of him. They told him that he did have talents, a cool head and a steady blade, and they could make use of them killing monsters of a different kind.

    They called themselves The Third Hand. As in, if a knight carried a sword and shield in each hand, they were the third hand that carried the dishonorable dagger that no one liked but was needed.

    At first, Winter rejected the idea of killing people. He had been raised to think of murder as evil and didn¡¯t much like the idea of being an evil man. But the Hand showed him things. True evil. People that were more monster than human and couldn¡¯t be stopped by anything else than a knife to the heart. They told him to imagine these people going to his village, doing their terrible deeds to his friends and family.

    Suddenly, the thought of killing became much easier to swallow.

    It wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Flesh was flesh. No matter what he cut, it bled the same red blood. The work was often times less dangerous and more pleasant than trekking into the wild to hunt manabeasts. Most villains were cowards, with little power themselves, and they were much easier to take by surprise. It also paid better than standard work. Winter wasn¡¯t rich but he had a nice house and could enjoy himself in the Myriad Zone when he pleased while still sending enough home to make sure his family was taken care of.

    After a few years, he started to take pride in his work and his organization. The guilds have a long, storied history, the Hand most of all. They were the first guild, originally starting as a peace-keeping force when the city was just a collection of war camps used as a staging ground for the army as it pushed deeper into the continent. When the city was built and a lord appointed to govern it, he ¡°encouraged¡± the Hand to disband and established the guard in their place, a force under his control. But it was a futile gesture. The hunters, used to governing themselves, shut out the guards or were openly hostile. Meanwhile, the Hand continued their work, just more discreetly.

    Eventually, the lord wizened up. He couldn¡¯t endorse the Hand and admit he had no control over his city, but he realized trying to fight them was an unwinnable war. An unspoken agreement was struck. The guard would be the public face of the city¡¯s security and would handle the menial squabbles between the citizens while the Hand would follow their tradition of hunting monsters. Villains too smart to be judged by the law and casters that wielded their magic against innocents.

    Not once had the Hand ever sent him after anyone that didn¡¯t need to be taken out by a knife in the dark. If not for their own sins, then for the catastrophe they would bring to others. Sometimes, innocents had to die to protect innocents. Those are the assignments he hates most.

    I don¡¯t fall into that category. The noblewoman named Lourianne Tome is a villain in the eyes of the Hand. I¡¯ve killed people, traumatized the city, and am posed to bring tragedy to Quest on a scale they¡¯ve never seen before. Unsurprisingly, my intentions to cause as little damage as possible as I settle the debt between Victory and Quest were never communicated to my would-be assassins. What they were told was that I had killed their fellow hunters, caused thousands of crowns worth of damage to the city, and could bring a war to their walls if I wasn¡¯t stopped.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    It¡¯s amazing how much more Geneva gets from him. As she asks her questions, I catch tiny glimpses of his true thoughts. When she asks who he is, I get his name, Winter. Geneva sees the entirety of who he is, from the boy who grew up in a village a week¡¯s ride from Quest to the killer he became. She asks about his assignment and I get vague bloodlust while she sees the whole conversation, including who gave him said assignment.

    It doesn¡¯t have a thing to do with mana expenditure either, as Geneva uses the same basic spell to make a point. All that she gleams is a result of mastery, of being so familiar with thoughts that where I hear something close to the drone of insects, she hears everything in his heart and mind.

    Winter isn¡¯t a fount of information, but he does give us the location of the Hand¡¯s secret guildhall. It¡¯s enough to track them down and bury them, which we may need to do. The Hand is as stubborn as the other guilds. Once they accept a request, they don¡¯t quit until it¡¯s fulfilled. Supposedly. It¡¯s hard to maintain that conviction after a significant number of your forces die in vain but it¡¯s possible that I could have assassins on my tail for the rest of my days if I leave them alone.

    When we finish with him, we turn him over to Marcella. A small gesture after stomping all over her authority earlier. There¡¯s no reason to burn anymore bridges, as I¡¯m not swimming in a sea of allies currently. I¡¯m sure she can make better use of him, or his corpse, than we can.

    An awkward tension stifles the room once Marcella¡¯s men collect the poor man. Geneva promised him he wouldn¡¯t feel any pain if he cooperated, but I don¡¯t know anyone who can remain calm while someone snatches their secrets. He struggled, reflexively, and as promised, he paid for it. It is a shell of the man that weakly falls into the grasps of the hotel guards, his eyes bloodshot and haunted.

    Once he is gone, an echo of that pain remains. The sky is dark, telling us that we should be sleeping, but none of us can lie down with the man¡¯s muffled screams still ringing in our ears. Since we can¡¯t sleep, we decide to start the day. Alana monopolizes the room for her daily exercise, pushing aside the bed for more space as she doesn¡¯t want to risk making a target of herself by stepping out of the building.

    Geneva goes to secure breakfast, or in other words, commandeer the kitchens for a few minutes. I humored Marcella last night, but I won¡¯t be suffering tasteless bread and watery fruit when I don¡¯t need to.

    Earl meets me outside our room, bright-eyed and dressed in his uniform despite the hour. My first instinct is tell him to go back to bed but, seeing how perky he is, I know it¡¯s a useless idea. He has more energy than all of us combined. After he assures me that Anna is still resting, I give him a task. Namely gathering the boring but critical information needed if I want to consider staying in the city despite being ousted from the Hall. Property laws, taxes, and all the other things that come with living in a settlement that isn¡¯t governed by your father.

    After he happily marches off with his orders, I take Talia by the hand and lead her through the hotel until we find an empty room. I¡¯m about to break the lock but my flower catches my wrist.

    ¡°You have more tools at your disposal,¡± she says simply.

    Yes, but why use them when brute force is so quick and effective? But, under her exotic gaze, I can¡¯t bring myself to act like a barbarian. She isn¡¯t wrong. There are several ways I can open this door. One of them is almost as easy as kicking it down.

    I extend a finger to the lock. As it meets the polished brass, my hand turns to purple ooze. I bend and shift the oozey digit, letting it take the shape of the lock. Then I twist. The lock opens with a satisfying click and I open the door with my opposite hand.

    Talia is unfazed by our unseemly conduct, breezily stepping past me to enter the room, a copy of our own except the rug between the foot of the bed and the door is a shade of green instead of red. Talia sits on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other as she leans back, emphasizing her modest chest. ¡°Why did we need privacy, Lou?¡±

    Hah. If only. ¡°Not for that. Or, at least, not right now. I wanted to talk to you about something.¡±

    Her inviting demeanor changes to something softer as she climbs onto the bed and pats the place beside her. ¡°What is bothering you?¡± she asks, leaning against me as I take a seat.

    ¡°How would you punish a succubus?¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-76

    ¡°Punish? You wish to cause them pain?¡±

    ¡°If pain¡¯s what it takes.¡± The problem is, I don¡¯t think it will matter. The worst I can imagine might amuse the succubus at best. Geneva can feel pain. She can suffer. But she has existed for who knows how long. I can¡¯t imagine how much pain she¡¯s endured in that time. Saints, she might not even experience pain the same way people do.

    I do hold one trump card. I have complete control over her and, through her, every other succubus in Harvest. They can¡¯t raise a hand to harm me. Not even if I order them to drag their summoners before me and watch as I sever their connection to this realm. They couldn¡¯t do anything even if I ordered them all to kill each other.

    But that isn¡¯t a punishment or a solution. It¡¯s a last-ditch effort to save myself if I¡¯m cornered. As treacherous as they are, the succubi are a powerful resource. It would pain me to part with them. Literally and figuratively. My quality of life would take a rapid and noticeable plunge.

    There has to be an answer between the two extremes of doing nothing and evicting the influence of Burning Earth from my life entirely.

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    She closes her eyes. ¡°Geneva is a remarkable creature. She has complete control over both her body and mind. Nothing is out of her control. Her every breath is intentional. That means there is meaning behind every action. The question is, why would a creature with complete control of herself and a vested interest in staying in your good graces purposely anger you?¡±

    A question I¡¯ve asked myself many times. ¡°I can only imagine it¡¯s her pride.¡± She¡¯s told me many times that she and her kind are not infallible. That the strong have their own weaknesses. ¡°She was upset that her plan fell apart and took it out on me.¡±

    And why wouldn¡¯t she? The damn creature thinks she¡¯s untouchable. Or at least that she can take whatever punishment I can hand out. Saints¡¯ blessed asses, she might not think I have it in me to punish her. With all that¡¯s going on, the loss of the succubi would be incredibly detrimental.

    Worse, it would put the weakest members of my household at risk. The only reason I am so comfortable challenging the top powers of the kingdom is because I know between her and Kierra, it would take an act of the saints to kill any of us. That kind of security is hard to let go of.

    ¡°Pride. Perhaps¡­but she has already swallowed her pride. She had to swallow it entirely to become your servant and suppresses it every day as she does menial chores to keep you happy. She has successfully kept her pride under control but, for no discernible reason, that impeccable control is broken and so drastically?¡±

    When she says it like that¡­ ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°I will not claim to know her. A being such as her is unknowable, her mind a labyrinth. But I do believe she is a creature of intention, always. She intended to anger you and that anger serves another intention. What were you talking about before she purposefully ignited your temper?¡±

    I swallow heavily. ¡°The death of my father.¡±

    A hand gently caresses my cheek. ¡°What were you about to do? About the death of your father, in regard to the succubi specifically?¡±

    ¡°I was going to question them about the idiotic independent summoners that roped my father into summoning a drakkon. And about whatever they¡¯re doing in the capital¡­that consumed so much of their attention they couldn¡¯t protect him.¡± My eyes widen as realization dawns, my thoughts mirroring Talia¡¯s next words.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°Are you thinking about that now?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I¡¯m so busy grappling with the impossible task of bringing a succubus to heel that I haven¡¯t spared a thought for my many questions. Would I have forgotten completely? It¡¯s not impossible to think, given the storm of circumstances raging around us.

    Haha, it all makes sense. What does Geneva care if I torture her or imprison her? So long as her plans continue unimpeded. Her schemes mean more to her than that fake body crafted to deceive and please me. Did she plan to make a good show of it? Cry and beg and plead as I did my best to make her understand horror? Or maybe she¡¯d cackle at my attempts to be menacing, riling me up until my anger is all I can think about.

    ¡°I¡¯m such an idiot.¡±

    ¡°No. You are young and inexperienced.¡± The hand caressing my cheek moves down to my neck, gently massaging.

    It seems so obvious now. ¡°The best way to hurt Geneva is to hurt her plans.¡±

    ¡°I do not think so.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I thought that was the whole point of the conversation we just had.

    ¡°Geneva cannot act against you. Her schemes are not harmful to you or your interests. Rather, they may benefit or safeguard them. Destroying those plans will annoy her but she will make new ones. Over and over, for eternity. That is not victory.¡±

    ¡°Then how?¡± I ask, frustration seeping into my tone despite the comforting touch of my flower.

    ¡°¡­when I was small, I wanted to hurt the other children who bullied me. We were all trapped in same terrible circumstances. They spoke of sticking together, of looking out for one another as no one else would. Instead, they took advantage of the weak, taking what little we did have. There were nights when I went to bed hungry that I wanted to carve out their stomachs to make them sleep with the same void in their guts.¡±

    ¡°Talia¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to get angry for me,¡± she whispers soothingly. ¡°Even as a girl, I realized that violence against them was pointless. Assuming I could somehow overpower several children that were both older and stronger than myself, despite my lack of sight, my victory would have given me nothing. The orphanage could have kicked me out, declaring me a danger to the other children. Then I would be on the streets with nothing instead of very little and no roof over my head. The evil of children is cruel, but the evil of adults is far worse. I wouldn¡¯t have survived a week. Maybe not even a day.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m sorry you had to live through that.¡±

    ¡°We all have our trials. I don¡¯t think of it anymore. I have never heard of any of those children. They grew up, if they grew up, to live common lives in common places. They are nothing. Had I retaliated in anger, I would have ruined my life over nothing.

    ¡°Geneva can hardly be compared to cruel children but the pain you wish to inflict on her is similarly worth nothing. It will do nothing for you and nothing to her, not really. Your distraction is likely what she wants.

    ¡°Or perhaps her thoughts go much deeper, too deep for us to grasp but the vaguest sense of them. What I do know is that the only true victory is success. You have asked for my opinion. Do not punish her for tricking you. Instead, become strong and wise so she can never trick you again. That is your victory, Lou.¡±

    ¡­she¡¯s right.

    What is all of Geneva¡¯s work for? Her contract with me and her schemes? She isn¡¯t doing it for Harvest. Or the world, though I imagine she will take both if she can wrap her dainty hands around them.

    All of this is for me. To impress me. To control me. To devour me. Keeping myself out of her hands is the only victory that truly matters.

    My father¡­he deserves answers. Perhaps retribution. At the very least he deserves my attention. But I can¡¯t let thinking of him doom me. I have a long life ahead of me. I don¡¯t want to spend it dancing to the whims of an elemental. And the only way to beat Geneva, truly, is to be better. To become untouchable. Not to destroy her schemes, but to ensure they amount to nothing. She has everything. Believes she can have anything, given enough time to chase it.

    Denial. That is the only thing that can hurt her.

    I softly take Talia¡¯s chin in one hand and tilt her head back. Her eyes remain closed and her expression placid. I can¡¯t even detect a change in the steady pounding of her heart. She must know how vulnerable she is, yet she is completely confident. So sure of herself. Her surrender gives her power, just like Geneva. Is that why her advice rings true? Because their minds are the same?

    Will I one day pull another aside to discuss how to overcome my scheming flower?

    No. Because I will be stronger. I will be better. I will be¡­

    ¡°There are a few hours until the sun rises,¡± I say suggestively. She takes note of my tone and her free hand slides up my stomach. I catch her wrist as said hand rests on one of my breasts and guide her to stand.

    ¡°There would be no point taking such care with the lock if we make a mess of the room anyway.¡± And Alana wouldn¡¯t be happy to learn I denied her the chance to watch.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-77

    Alana¡¯s sword is leaning against a wall when we return to the room hand-in-hand, my lovely knight having progressed to the stretches she does at the end of her workouts. I¡¯m surprised. Normally, she swings her sword for at least an hour but me and Talia couldn¡¯t have been talking for more than half of one, probably less. She¡¯s still covered in an impressive sheen of sweat. Guess she traded time for intensity.

    Blue eyes flick up as we enter, taking in our joined hands. I raise a brow suggestively and she looks away. There¡¯s a flash of disappointment when I see she isn¡¯t blushing as usual but much greater is the wave of excitement. My future wife grows bolder every day.

    I guide Talia toward the bed, my eyes on Alana as she curls into my back. It¡¯s another perfect moment, the two of us lounging together as the faintest light of dawn begins to lighten the gloom of the room, Alana¡¯s controlled breathing and three steady heartbeats the only sounds to disturb the comfortable silence.

    I wonder if Talia¡¯s talent for the mental affinity is an extension of a general talent for learning. It would explain her incredible aptitude for her new role. Or perhaps she¡¯s reading my mind, boosting her perception of my thoughts to divine the perfect way to lean into me, the perfect way to softly stroke my body, and the perfect tune to hum to make me melt into the bed.

    Or maybe it¡¯s something much simpler. Perhaps the role of the flower speaks to her. It isn¡¯t rare for a woman to enjoy being pampered and taken care of. She also isn¡¯t the type that enjoys competition and ripping what she wants from the hands of others.

    A stable household where she is freely given what she needs to develop herself, ensured by a relationship that doesn¡¯t require feelings she might not be able to have, could be her ideal life and now that she¡¯s found it, she¡¯s taken to it like a fish to water.

    Whatever the case, I enjoy her touch and let her artfully build the tension around us. My eyes are half-lidded when she starts to undress me but Alana getting to her feet catches my attention.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to see about a bath,¡± she mutters when she notices my gaze.

    Unfortunately, this isn¡¯t a room with a bath attached. I wonder if there are private rooms for such or if the hotel servants bring tubs on request. The latter could be¡­annoying, but I trust her to take care of it. I¡¯m sure the last thing she wants is our early morning fun being interrupted. ¡°Enjoy,¡± I drawl.

    She fixes the two of us with a long look before leaving the room. The soft click of the door shutting encourages Talia to increase her pace. In short order, I¡¯m divested of my shirt and pants, leaving me in just my underclothes.

    That¡¯s when I roll over, stopping her hands as I straddle her. As enjoyable as her attention is and my willingness to let a partner take the lead, Talia¡¯s relationship with us is defined by adhering to a strict role. She can tease, she can coax, but she does not lead. She does not initiate. That¡¯s my role.

    As her exotic gaze watches me, I feel a hesitance I haven¡¯t felt since Kierra and I¡¯s first time. My flower isn¡¯t intimidating. She cannot be, it goes against everything she strives to be. What gives me pause is the weight of the moment.

    Right now, as much as she is participating, she is also watching. Learning. Talia takes her cues of what a flower is from us, the ones who nurture and take care of her. My actions aren¡¯t so weighty that they can never be taken back but knowing that she will judge, even in a benign way, my every action, gesture, and spoken word¡­well, it makes me nervous.

    Still, I push through it. Her relaxed posture that oozes calm and serenity, that tells me that there is no wrong way to move forward, gives me strength. ¡°What a treasure you are,¡± I whisper, sighing softly. I push to settle between her legs and she opens them to accommodate me. I settle my weight on my forearms as our bottom halves intertwine.

    As strange and barbaric as Kierra¡¯s traditions can seem at times, I understand more of their appeal every day. There is¡­comfort in knowing there is someone who belongs entirely to you. Knowing that they are dedicated to your happiness. Your fulfillment. Kierra and Alana care about me in a similar way but ours is a give and take, a constant ebb and flow. Our relationships, our roles, grow, change, and evolve. Which is a good thing.

    But there is a beauty in the simplicity that Talia offers. I suppose it¡¯d be naive to think that what we have will always be the same but there is a timeless quality to these moments we share.

    She wants one thing from me. I want one thing from her. Two lines of desire that intersect and meet, forming a loop, a cycle, of fulfillment. When I think of us, I think of the variable for infinity. It uses are usually academic, in theoretical spells as nothing is truly infinite, especially a caster¡¯s mana. My tutors didn¡¯t dwell on it, as Father insisted on a practical education and never envisioned me as a scholar of magical studies, but I remember my tutors explaining to me the common misconception behind the variable.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Infinity isn¡¯t unrivaled potential. It is one thing that will always be. A thing without end. It isn¡¯t something with the capacity to grow indefinitely, but something that never grows or decays. It is a thing, a concept, that is immutable, untouchable even to the ravages of time.

    I don¡¯t know what Kierra, Alana, and I will be in the future. I don¡¯t know if it will only be us, one more, or a true harem, like those maintained by the fictional kings in the stories dreamt of in the fervent imaginations of weak and powerful men alike, a hundred women lounging across the rooms and balconies of a towering palace. I can¡¯t even imagine. But, no matter what changes in the future, I have a feeling that Talia¡¯s role will be exactly the same.

    Somehow, despite the charged air, there is nothing sexual about the meeting of our lips. Well, nothing might be an exaggeration. The ways I appreciate women may be growing more varied and nuanced, but I am who I am. There¡¯s no way I can kiss a woman I¡¯m attracted to and not get excited. But the warmth between my legs is overshadowed by the warmth in my¡­not in my heart. In my mind?

    It reminds me of lying my head on Kierra¡¯s lap after being chased to a state of complete exhaustion. There was nothing sexy or even romantic about it, but it was so damn comfortable, I¡¯d have lingered for hours if I could.

    ¡°Take of me,¡± she whispers between our kisses. A verbal surrender to supplement the physical one. She¡¯s reminding me of our agreement. Inviting me to do what I will with her. Saints, it¡¯s a little terrifying to imagine how far she would allow me to go, but she is mine to care for, not to abuse.

    Power might have changed me, but it won¡¯t make a monster.

    Talia follows the guidance of my hands as I strip her of her robe. I have to hold back a chuckle as she reflexively folds the garment and places it at the corner of the bed. When I met Talia, I thought it was a shame that she dressed in such simple clothing but how something looked was irrelevant to the woman trapped in darkness. Since gaining her sight, her attitude has changed dramatically, as well as her appreciation of her wardrobe. I¡¯ve never seen her angry, but I imagine damaging anything in her closet would be a quick way to ignite her temper.

    Her hands are deft and well-practiced as they wander my body while we kiss. Her sighs and breathless words of encouragement are enticing but shallow. I can tell they are scripted, as they come in an easily recognizable pattern and are too stable to have been uttered by a woman breathless with passion, but it only serves to amuse me. After all, just because she is relying on practiced sounds to express her feelings doesn¡¯t make said feelings ingenuine.

    Better, it¡¯s easy to tell when the sounds become genuine. The small hitches in her even breaths that come just that much faster. Her rising heartbeat. The pink flush to her face that darkens to scarlet.

    But then there¡¯s an unwelcome sign. She begins to fidget under me, which is cute. It¡¯s not cute when she tenses, body rigid as wood. The faintest smell of fear is like a smack in the face. I jerk back, sitting up with furrowed brows.

    The smell is so faint I could almost think it was my mind playing tricks on me and Talia immediately relaxes as I rise over her, but I can¡¯t ignore it. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I raise a finger as she opens her mouth. ¡°The truth and all of it.¡±

    ¡°It is nothing. Kii warned me of your constitution but the effects¡­surprise me.¡±

    I peer at her, trying to discern the true concern beneath the words. That was not surprise or shock. That was something else. ¡°Maybe we should stop,¡± I say, grudgingly. My faint frustration isn¡¯t directed at her but at myself for making her uncomfortable. What did I miss? And did I really miss it or did I ignore it in my excitement? Saints, I¡¯ll be pissed at myself if I accidentally hurt her.

    ¡°No. Please.¡± Her hand touches my arm before I can move away. When that isn¡¯t enough to soothe my concern, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me toward her. She couldn¡¯t move me even if there were five of her, but I let her coax me into pressing our bodies together. Only then does she relax.

    ¡°Talk to me or we can¡¯t do this.¡± Please. I don¡¯t know what caused her to be afraid of me, but that fear inspired an emotional twin in my gut that is currently making me feel sick. The thought responsible is the memory of Jac calling me a Grimoire. Forcing women to please them was the most common treachery of the Grimoire men. Being compared to those monsters is offensive but that small moment of fear has planted a similar small seed of doubt in my stomach that is gnawing on my guts uncomfortably.

    ¡°¡­for a long time, I was dependent on others,¡± she offers in a soft voice. ¡°They mocked me for what they called a weakness. Even after the interrogators found me and Lord Remmings became my teacher, I was still dependent on another¡¯s benevolence. There was¡­very little in my life I could control. One thing. My magic. From it, I learned I enjoyed power. Over myself. Over others. It became the most important thing to me.

    ¡°You are wonderful, Lou. What you do to me is enjoyable. I enjoy it.¡± She stresses the last part, staring me right in the eyes. ¡°I enjoy being a flower and being a part of your family, but the effect you inspire is powerful. I realized¡­it is not something I can control. That is¡­daunting.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be afraid,¡± I whisper, gently stroking her cheek.

    She leans into the touch. ¡°I know.¡± To prove it, she pushes up a little to kiss me. A break in her role but a reassurance I need. I¡¯m incredibly alert, more so than when I was searching for the assassins aiming for my life, as I search for another trace of fear but there is nothing but enthusiastic, or as enthusiastic as Talia ever gets, acceptance.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-78

    It¡¯s incredible how much the act of making love changes depending on who is involved.

    Most people that view Kierra and I¡¯s relationship from a distance are horrified, seeing affection tainted by blood and violence. The violence and conflict is only a consequence of the true foundation of our union. Competition.

    The whole of the elven race worships strength and the pursuit of it. My wife says it¡¯s a part of who they are, just as much as their long ears and colorful skin. It seeps into every part of their lives, at every level. Kierra loves and respects me. As an immortal with infinite potential, I am the partner that can accompany her every step on the long road of her life.

    Because she loves and respects me, she wants me to pursue strength with her. So, she pushes me to compete with her, even in the bedroom. When neither participant can be truly harmed, fighting becomes something different. It just so happens that to Kierra, it¡¯s foreplay.

    I rarely sleep with my succubi but when I do, it is a purely physical act. A selfish one as well. The elementals don¡¯t care for me. Every sweet word or act of compassion is a calculated ploy. I understand a relationship where those involved use each other for their own ends, but at least with people, care and trust can be built. There is no trusting a succubus.

    With them, the pleasure is not a means to an end, but the end itself. A worthy end but our times together have a fleeting quality. It may sound horrible, but I can treat them with an emotional disregard that would horrify me if I did the same with my wives. Sleeping with them is almost masturbatory.

    Intimacy with Alana is the exact opposite. There¡¯s pleasure but it¡¯s all about emotion. Loving and being loved. My heart is more involved than my gift, though that changes little by little as she determinedly pursues strength. Though I doubt our dynamic will change even if she has the power to cleave mountains in two. As tough as she is outside, behind doors she¡¯s as soft as the golden fur of Anna¡¯s little pets.

    I¡¯m still exploring my dynamic with Talia, but it is already different from my marital relations or more casual affairs, while sharing similarities with both.

    If Alana is soft, Talia is a glass sculpture. Beautiful but oh so delicate. I can hurt Alana if I¡¯m not paying attention, but I could shatter our flower. If making love to my future wife is an exercise of restraint, touching Talia is an exercise in control. I¡¯m not afraid to put a finger on her, like I was with Alana for quite a while, having already overcome that mental hurdle, but it certainly isn¡¯t an act I can relax into it.

    There¡¯s a minimum of physical pleasure. Talia doesn¡¯t have the strength my body responds to. Perhaps she could use her magic in some way, but I could never allow her to stick her pretty fingers into my mind. I can barely tolerate Geneva¡¯s mental touch and that¡¯s because I know she cannot work against me without being smote by a power greater than both of us.

    But just like with Alana, there is emotional satisfaction. It is not quite the loving comfort I share with my soft knight. It¡¯s a mixture of self-gratification, the ego-stroking of inducing pleasure in another, and the satisfaction of a job well-done. Or perhaps the pride of one who owns a particularly stunning pet. Like a prized stallion or the crazy bastards that keep manabeasts.

    I imagine that my deep satisfaction feeling her tense beneath me, her lips parted and eyes squeezed shut as she endures my attentions, is similar to the feeling of a powerful noble wowing visitors to their estate with a diamond-maned lion lying in their gardens like an obedient ranch cat lounging on the roof of a barn after hunting pests.

    Is it wrong to think of her as a possession? I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t care. This feeling is beyond right or wrong and here, in this space reserved for us, no one else¡¯s opinion matters. She surrenders herself, her will, and her body, to me, to us, and is elevated for it. That surrender makes me feel powerful and I¡¯m coming to enjoy having power.

    Alana returns to the room, dressed in a pair of loose pants and a robe, while we are resting, Talia weakly lying on top of me as my fingers trace the smooth skin of her lower back. Alana rolls her eyes as our gazes meet, stalking across the room to drop the ball of her dirty clothes in a basket beside the dresser. Then she takes the lone chair in the room and pulls it up beside the bed.

    I wait for her to say something, but she doesn¡¯t. Instead, one of her hands reaches out to play with a few strands of Talia¡¯s inky black tresses. Inversed eyes open slowly, hooded with her languid afterglow, and our flower peers at Alana with lazy interest. Examining and evaluating both the situation and her target before determining how best to play her role. Which, amusedly, is to do nothing.

    Their curious interaction continues until there¡¯s a knock on the door. Alana pauses, lips twisting in annoyance as she prepares to stand but a sound from me stops her. I slip from underneath Talia and motion for Alana to take my place on the bed. She hesitates, but our flower is good at coaxing. It only takes a few moments before Alana is pulled onto the bed and the two are tangled together.

    I¡¯d love to take Alana¡¯s chair and watch the two slowly grow comfortable with one another, Alana¡¯s face flushed and demeanor unusually hesitant in the face of an expectant Talia, but our visitor is still at the door and isn¡¯t going away. If it were just anyone, I wouldn¡¯t bother but the snow bunny is family.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    On the opposite side of the door, Yulia stands with her hands interlaced in front of her, eyes gazing at nothing. Effortlessly graceful, though the long braid her dark hair is tied in and her light blue dress certainly help. At first glance, she seems unaffected by the early morning excitement but the tension at the corners of her mouth and how tightly her fingers are interlaced give away her concern.

    Her smile is perfect though. ¡°Lou! Good morning. I was hoping you hadn¡¯t gone to bed.¡±

    I lean against the frame of the door, making sure she can¡¯t see past me as my ears pick up the sound of kissing. ¡°Hard to relax with assassins lurking in the shadows.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°¡­did you want something?¡± I prompt when the silence drags on too long.

    ¡°Pardon me. I don¡¯t mean to stand here like a fool. My mind is¡­restless.¡± She takes a deep, calming breath before meeting my eyes. ¡°I believe we need to change our strategy when it comes to the guilds. We need to move quickly and decisively.¡±

    ¡°Quickly and decisively?¡± I drawl, taking in the tension of her shoulders and the slight furrow of her brow. ¡°That sounds very aggressive for a woman that¡¯s supposed to be helping me solve this mess peacefully.¡±

    She chuckles but there¡¯s no humor in the sound. ¡°Peace? Peace went out the window when a cohort of assassins tried to kill us. You heard Marcella. The guilds were never afraid of us, but of the thought of war. If they think Victory is in no position to wage a war, no matter how wrong that assumption is, there is no need to negotiate. Maintaining our position as is will only make us look weak and invite others to attack us.¡±

    This must be some kind of joke.

    I agree with her. After trying to kill us in our sleep, the guilds don¡¯t deserve our consideration. But that¡¯s the easy answer.

    I don¡¯t need her here to incite me to violence. I have a wife that always encourages blood as the answer to any problem and a second wife to chime in with the perspective of a northern warrior. Saints, my own beliefs lean toward violence. Her job is to walk us away from that. To be the guiding light down a different road.

    What happened to changing the north¡¯s reputation and repairing Victory¡¯s broken relationship with the rest of the kingdom? Did the assassins spook her? Did the news about the fort unsettle her? Things start to go a little awry and there goes all her determination, huh.

    ¡°Are you alright, Lou? You seem¡ª"

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± I am. I can¡¯t even blame her, but it¡¯d be a lie to say I¡¯m not disappointed. Alana¡¯s always had a problem with the fact that her sister only fought in a single campaign. Thinks Yulia is a coward. I didn¡¯t agree, as I can completely understand not wanting to march into that winter hellscape beyond the Bleak Peaks, but I think understand how my knight feels now.

    One brush with danger, not even a true one, we would have never had let anything happen to her, and her pretty ideals collapse. Her vision of a happy future where northerners skip through the fields of the south and their children aren¡¯t immediately drafted into a losing war is nice but she¡¯s not willing to put herself on the line for it.

    The moment things become a little risky to herself, or perhaps she¡¯s thinking of her son, she retreats, more than happy to hide behind the swords and bloodlust of the warriors whose ways she wants to correct.

    Her way of doing things isn¡¯t wrong or reprehensible. Saints, it¡¯s even understandable. She can hardly enact change if she¡¯s dead and it¡¯s hard to negotiate with people actively trying to kill you. Still, my opinion of the northern rose drops considerably. She really is nothing like her sister. Alana doesn¡¯t compromise. She doesn¡¯t back down. She was willing to personally fight an entire village single-handedly to defend her justice while Yulia caves at a few assassins being in the same building.

    Ah, how hypocritical. It wasn¡¯t that long ago I was panicking at the thought of a prince being annoyed with me. If anyone should understand Yulia¡¯s position, it¡¯s me. But I think what I think and respect what I respect. Or rather, don¡¯t respect certain things, even if I might do them myself.

    ¡°Things have gotten more complicated but I¡¯m not giving up on peace yet. Questioning one of the assassins hasn¡¯t given us any indication that the contract on our lives was sponsored by all the guilds.¡± Poor Winter was just a blade, too unimportant to have that kind of information.

    ¡°And even if it was, their failure might be enough to wake some of the hunters up. If information is getting out of Victory, that means they have accounts of the March.¡± Specifically, the fact that I lost my head but stood back up. ¡°That combined with a Guiness behind us should be enough to bring them to the table and think twice before doing something stupid.¡±

    ¡°You being a wanted woman will make them more audacious,¡± Yulia replies, voice harsh. ¡°I always thought as much but figured the guilds wouldn¡¯t dare ask the crown for assistance. They value their independence, after all. Having to run to the king to solve their problems wouldn¡¯t make them look good.

    ¡°However, now that you¡¯re a criminal, they are in a position of power. They can criticize the king for enacting new laws but not enforcing them. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if a force from the army or royal guards themselves were on their way to the city right now. You want to negotiate with your own power but if you¡¯re a target of the crown, no one will respect that power. They¡¯ll assume you are a dead woman walking. We have to strike now, before they grow bolder.¡±

    Her certainty only makes the reversal of her stance that much more annoying. It doesn¡¯t help that she¡¯s keeping me from what¡¯s going on inside our room, the sounds of Alana¡¯s and Talia¡¯s exploration becoming more intense, though both are trying to keep quiet. I lean forward and she takes a subtle step backward.

    ¡°Thank you for the advice,¡± I stress, reminding her that she¡¯s here to advise, not to give orders. ¡°Geneva¡¯s preparing breakfast. It should be ready soon.¡±

    Thankfully, Yulia takes the dismissal for what it is. ¡°That is something to look forward to,¡± she says with a strained smile. ¡°Will we all be eating together in the dining room?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Sounds like a plan.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll see you soon.¡±

    I close the door with a frown and retreat into my room. Alana and Talia remain intertwined with one another, my knight amusingly beneath the flower that has determined she is supposed to take the more active role between the two of them. Blue eyes peer at me from a flushed face as Alana breaks away from their kiss, Talia shifting her attention from her lips to her neck. ¡°What¡­did she want?¡± Alana asks between pants.

    ¡°Tell you later.¡± I smile at her glare as I take a seat in her chair. ¡°We¡¯ve still got plenty of time for you to enjoy yourself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­I¡¯m just¡­¡± I raise a brow and pointedly stare at the woman kissing along her collarbone. Alana huffs and turns away. I settle in, propping my chin up in a palm as I idly wonder if Geneva will interrupt with breakfast before I become less interested in watching and join them.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-79

    Geneva is first. Unfortunately, she finishes preparing breakfast before my two lovers can progress further than a little heavy petting. The time to push aside and ignore my problems has passed. I don¡¯t like it, but I rouse the two women and escort them to the dining room.

    The previous night when we walked into room, almost everyone openly watched as we joined Marcella at her table. Now, only a fraction of the patrons in the room raise their heads as we pass. That doesn¡¯t mean they don¡¯t pay attention. Everyone is paying attention.

    I can tell from the way their heart rates spike and their breaths catch. Marcella is trying to keep the exact details of this morning¡¯s fiasco quiet, but they all know my house was involved and people died. It¡¯s as if we¡¯re predators walking through a herd of scared sheep hushing their companions and trying to look smaller so they aren¡¯t the next victims.

    Only the hunters, warriors used to facing down death and creatures with sharp teeth, have the guts to look at us. Some even have the audacity to leer at us. However, there is a new caution there. A wariness. They¡¯re also wondering if violence will come again today. I wonder if they know that if it does, that if I go back on the words I spoke to Yulia and decide to tyrannically suppress the guilds, there isn¡¯t a damn thing they could do to stop me. It would explain the tension.

    We settle around table without issue. Soon as we do, Geneva comes into the dining room pushing a wooden cart that is otherwise identical to the one the succubi normally use to deliver meals. She garners attention as well though, amusingly, it¡¯s the crowd¡¯s noses that she engages rather than their eyes. Several men of means look at our table enviously as a veritable feast is arranged in front of us.

    A particularly arrogant bastard calls over one of the servants lingering about and begins to heatedly, but quietly, berate the poor young man, demanding to know why he was served cold sausage and warm bread as opposed to cuisine that would shame royal chefs. The server patiently explains that the food wasn¡¯t prepared by the hotel but by a guest¡¯s own servant, which does nothing to help him. The man doesn¡¯t care about where the food came from, only that he gets his share.

    The crowd¡¯s curiosity about our meal makes for decent amusement until something else steals their attention. Kierra is a lucky woman. The stars must love someone born with a pure physical affinity. And to prove just how much fate coddles her, she arrives during our meal. She ignores the looks she gets and dives right into the food. Naturally, we inform her of everything. Her response is both incredible and entirely expected.

    ¡°Only fourteen assassins and none of them named. How insulting.¡±

    She¡¯s upset they didn¡¯t send a greater number of more skillful people to kill us. Of course she is.

    ¡°You did well to protect our clan, dedia.¡±

    The praise warms me more than a glass of Herbanacle. After a short, whispered conversation with Talia, the gardener checking on her precious flower, our conversation turns from frivolous banter and catching up to serious matters.

    ¡°You know how I feel about this matter,¡± Kierra says after I relay Marcella¡¯s offer and Yulia¡¯s fears. ¡°My people do not handle our differences with words. Diplomacy is not practiced by anyone, not even between members of the same family. But if you are a being of infinite potential. If you want there to be peaceful discourse, there shall be peaceful discourse,¡± she says, offering her support. Then her smile stretches into something savage. ¡°Even if we have to slaughter hundreds so our words can reach thousands.¡±

    ¡°Yulia doesn¡¯t know a damn thing,¡± Alana says bitterly. ¡°The only reason I thought she would be a good negotiator is because I figured she had practice avoiding a fight. Should have known better. When things get tough, Yulia cries for other people to fix her problems.¡± Talia lays a comforting hand on her shoulder, but it does nothing to soothe Alana¡¯s anger.

    So much for their progress.

    ¡°Yulianna did raise a good point,¡± Talia says, enduring Alana¡¯s look of betrayal without flinching. ¡°Negotiation requires incentive. If you are not offering anything, the incentive must be the avoidance of consequence. Before, that consequence was the thought of war with Victory. Now that they do not believe Victory capable of waging that war, if you wish for them to negotiate, you must either provide proof contrary to that belief or present them with another consequence.¡±

    That much I realize. Saints, I figured I¡¯d have to flex our abilities before this apparent tragedy in the north. ¡°As soon as this is over, we can head back there.¡± Might not be a choice in the matter. We are still in need of a home.

    Alana bobs her head. Still playing tough, huh. I know, deep down, she¡¯s worried about her crazy family. Northerners are tough bastards who are more than capable of taking care of themselves. That means anything that can threaten them, to the point that rumors are spreading that they can¡¯t march for war, must be pretty serious.

    Maybe I should be more insistent. The last thing I want is Zach¡¯s sorry self showing up on our doorstep to tell her that her father¡¯s dead and her his head is in a box. Fuck, just the thought.

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    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Before that, we need to go to the capital.¡± Her eyes meet mine briefly before flicking away. She doesn¡¯t want to say it aloud but the whole table understands the reason we need to go to Summer Spire is to handle my father¡¯s death. Probably should also do something about my uncle, those independent summoners, and the king, but mostly for my father.

    ¡°Are you Lourianne Tome?¡±

    Our conversation is interrupted by a self-important voice coming from the side. I merely have to turn to see the source of the distraction, but Alana and Kierra have to turn their chairs. There¡¯s a long moment of silence as we all take in our unexpected visitor.

    Not that he¡¯s particularly impressive. He¡¯s the opposite. A completely ordinary man in all measures except perhaps his wallet, evidenced by his scarlet red pants and the elaborate yellow jacket over his white shirt. Can¡¯t say anything for his taste but those kinds of vibrant colors aren¡¯t cheap.

    What gives us pause, or at least me, isn¡¯t the quality of his clothes but rather the unexpectedness of his interruption. Powerful people have an aura around them. I know. In the past, nothing made me more nervous than the presence of the powerful. The most successful nobles learn to wield it but even if they never develop it that skill, it has a palpable effect on their surroundings.

    Without being arrogant, I¡¯m a powerful person and I no longer make a secret of it. Kierra is far worse. Our combined confidence, combined with Alana¡¯s no-nonsense disposition and Talia¡¯s cool indifference, should be as much of a deterrent to the small fry in this dining room as a physical wall.

    What, by the saints blessed beings, gave this pig-looking bastard the audacity to approach us? Especially in such a hostile manner. There is nothing friendly in his tightly clenched jaw and the tilt of his head as he literally looks down on us.

    ¡°Well? Are you Lourianne Tome or not?¡±

    I¡¯m so shocked by his nonsensical hostility, he gets fed up with the silence and barks out another challenge. ¡°Who are you?¡± I ask eventually, tone clearly communicating how dumbfounded I am.

    He scoffs. Actually scoffs. ¡°Are you a noblewoman at all? Your tutors did a reprehensible job if you think it¡¯s acceptable to answer a question with another question.¡±

    ¡°¡­who are you?¡± I force out through overwhelming incredulity.

    ¡°My name is Henson Addams, a proud merchant of Quest. Though I¡¯m sure that name means nothing to you. Not to you, who carelessly allowed your creature to destroy my shop. Many lives were lost that night but what about the lives that were shattered? Livelihoods lost, fortunes destroyed. Your night of careless and rampant destruction ruined people. And I am here to tell you that the good people of this city won¡¯t allow it again.

    ¡°We won¡¯t be cowled by the threat of war. Quest was founded to fight against the worst this land could throw at humanity. We won¡¯t be cowled by a bunch of insane barbarians come to suck our livelihoods to finance a pointless war. You¡¯re done, you madwoman. Whether it¡¯s the hunters or the king¡¯s men, you¡¯ll squashed like any other bothersome pest. If you had any intelligence, you¡¯d let that talking beansprout take you back to the land of rainbow freaks and never show your face amongst decent people again.¡±

    What¡­in the saints-loving, shit-sucking, Cosmo-cursed Abyss is this? Really, what towering mountain of steaming horseshit is this?

    Hoover Whatever-the-Fuck stares me down as I slowly rise to my feet. He¡¯s fearless, despite me having a few noticeable inches of height over him and considerably more muscle. He continues to glare at me even as I approach him, though it¡¯s broken when he glances around him. Taking in the eager faces and rapt attention of the crowd.

    Is this bastard putting on a show? Using me in some kind of stunt? There¡¯s the tiniest curl of his lips when he notices the attention on us that suggests so.

    Does he¡­does he think he¡¯s safe? That he can do this because I won¡¯t dare attack before all these witnesses, in broad daylight?

    I¡¯m going out of my way to spare a donkey¡¯s ass like this?

    My father¡¯s dead and I¡¯m not burying him for this?!

    My hand twitches as I hold back the first urge to strike him. The second urge is more controlled. Instead of taking off his head, the back of my hand turns his head with enough force to make him spin and stumble, the loud clap of the impact drowning out the more subtle sound of teeth skittering across the wooden floor. I pull my hand back with a curl of my lips as I notice the blood on my skin but before the disgust has a chance to settle, Geneva is at my side, washing the man¡¯s essence from my skin with her magic.

    ¡°Ou hit me!¡± The idiot scrambles to his feet, one hand holding his bruised cheek. ¡°Fucking animal¡ª"

    My control slips a little on the next hit. What was meant to be another simple reprimand shatters the man¡¯s jaw. He drops to his knees, muffled groans and screams coming out of his throat as his hands hover around the bloody mess that is his mouth. I grimace as I watch the blood drip from his shattered maw. A healer is going to have a rough time putting that mess back together.

    Ah. There it is. When the idiot looks up at me again, there¡¯s fear in his eyes. The fear that should have been there the whole time if he had a drop of common sense in him.

    There¡¯s a commotion near the doorway as two burly men wearing white pants and golden vests enter the dining room. Hotel guards. Yet they don¡¯t rush forward, ignoring the expectant eyes of the crowd as they watch the situation with stern glares. Marcella must have warned them about us, proving she is a dozen times smarter than the man who won¡¯t be able to use his tongue properly for weeks, if not the rest of his life, because he wanted to make a scene.

    Out of respect for her reputation and the courtesy she is going out of her way to show me, I leave things as they are. I¡¯ve made my point, but I don¡¯t have time for silly games. The rest of the table has already finished breakfast so they join me when I motion that I¡¯m leaving, Geneva staying behind to clean up the mess. The guards watch us as we leave but keep their words and hands to themselves, taking exaggerated steps out of the way as we pass.

    Kierra crosses her arms over my shoulders as we walk through the hotel¡¯s halls, leaning into my back. Her satisfaction is thick around us. I swear I can taste it, honey mixed the metal tang of blood. ¡°What now, my love?¡±

    ¡°Now?¡± I grumble, my mounting frustration evident in my tone. ¡°We end this bad joke. We¡¯re going to find Marcella and she¡¯s going to arrange a meeting with the guilds for tonight. And before that, we¡¯re going to have a talk with the lord of the city.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-80

    What is a noble?

    That word has a lot of meanings. The most common, I think, references someone born into a position of power, those who are meant to rule by the right of bloodline. They are those that are meant to represent the best of humanity. The elite of the kingdom. This is the view used by both said nobles and the commoners they govern, an idea purposely reinforced by those in power to ensure their subjects don¡¯t dare to question their superiority no matter how they govern their territories.

    Others see nobles as people with access, nobility nothing but a title that makes getting on with their business, whatever it is, that much easier. It¡¯s an ambitious way of thinking reserved for the ambitious. The common men and women who believe they can change their lives with enough hard work and daring. To them, the only power they respect is their own. Everyone else is just an opportunity or an obstacle.

    Then there are those who think nothing of nobles and only see nobility as a trait. Something that can used or thrown away by anyone. The proud and the purposeful. Those who aren¡¯t defined by their circumstances and won¡¯t let others define themselves charitably.

    If anyone had asked me before this year what definition I believe in, I would have quickly said the first. For the first eighteen years of my life, I couldn¡¯t say with confidence that I was any better than the villagers my father loosely governed. And yet, because I was born with a last name, I was, objectively, better than them. A girl born to a farmer could be the smartest, strongest, and quickest person in a hundred leagues, but she would still be looked down upon and I would always have more opportunities, despite my family being oppressed by the Grimoires.

    You are either born lucky, a noble, or you are not.

    Now? I have my own definition. Nobility is nothing. Titles mean nothing. Gold means nothing. Bloodline means nothing. There is only one power that truly matters. Personal power. What a person and the people beside them can do. Whether that¡¯s the intellect to outthink the constraints of a system working against them or the strength to punch through it, personal power, if you have enough of it, wins.

    The lord of Quest is powerful, but in the way of a classic noble. A few hours after breakfast, Earl returns from his errands. Between him and the succubi, I have a pretty good idea of the man we¡¯re dealing with.

    The Teppins are an old family that can trace their lineage as far back as the founding of Harvest. The original patriarch was one of the generals in the First King¡¯s army that led the push into the then wild lands of the continent. In those days, Quest was one of the largest war camps in the fledgling kingdom, second only to Victory. Not just anyone could be put in charge of rowdy soldiers still in the thick of war with the wild residents of the land. The king of the time hoped a strong hand would keep them in line.

    Something that proved correct and false at the same time. The general could relate to the soldiers but managing a city was a very different thing from managing an army. As natural resources flooded the fledging Quest, it needed a different kind of mind to guide it into the future. An administrator, rather than a fighter.

    And so, a tradition was created. The successor would always be a child that excelled in academics, administration, and negotiation. Another child would be trained in matters of war, to remind the family of its roots. Together, they would manage the city, one through the strength of mind and the other through strength of arms.

    A beautiful thought, but the truth is, there can only be one leader. The optimistic tradition has caused nothing but strife for the family. It¡¯s a rare thing when the design works acts intended, two siblings with insight into opposing worlds supporting one another for the betterment of the city. Usually, the administrator hoards all the power of the family for themselves, as their kind is wont to do. In a few rare cases, the brute of the family usurps the mastermind and that is not a situation anyone looks forward to.

    This generation, another administrator is the patriarch of the family, which explains the cowardly attitude of the guard. It also explains his decision to piss me off by making me a wanted woman.

    The current Lord Teppin is a noble in the first sense of the word. Someone who draws his power from his bloodline and the power invested in it by the crown. Without the crown, he is nothing, so he dares not defy the will of the king. Worse, he is a schemer. Someone who deals in the long-term, rather than the short-term threat of an angry caster or three knocking on his door.

    Unfortunately for him, he¡¯s severely underestimating the threat of a few casters. I suppose he thinks the standing force of thirty odd knights, the true force behind the Teppin name and the reason the guilds don¡¯t run roughshod over the family, are adequate protection. Rumors are they have three master casters amongst them. Enough to make fighting the family too costly for the guilds but not enough to bring them to heel. Certainly enough to stop an arrogant, deviant noblewoman and her cohort.

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    Or so he thinks.

    The air is tense as we ride through the city. By now, I imagine anyone with any stake in the city knows my name, face, and personal crest. They know who I am and where I¡¯m going, as one doesn¡¯t ride to the only estate in the walled city by accident. Violence is in the air and the people of Quest can sense it. The roads noticeably clear the closer we get to our goal and Bell, riding atop the carriage, spots a contingent of the city¡¯s guards following us once we¡¯re close.

    I suppose the designer of the Teppin estate figured a wall around the property would be redundant with the tall wall around the city. Or perhaps they thought the materials could be put to better use. As such, there is only a fence around the grounds. A deterrent for pests and unruly children, not hostile casters.

    I imagine the half dozen men standing in full plate armor, the head of an axe buried in a stylized sun, the crest of the Teppin family, painted on their chests, taking up the full width of the road leading up to the estate are meant to be the true deterrent. Or perhaps a distraction for the dozen others behind them that can¡¯t escape Bell¡¯s sharp gaze, ready to unleash a rain of magical destruction if we dare approach.

    We roll to a stop a safe distance before them. Far enough away to give them a sense of safety but not so far that I couldn¡¯t be on them before they realize what¡¯s happening if they prove they lack manners by attacking us without a word.

    Inside my carriage, Kierra and Alana prepare for a fight while Yulia sits with her lips pressed in a tight frown. I¡¯m not sure what the snow bunny is doing here. Conflict doesn¡¯t agree with her, but she insisted on being present. Believes there will be a job for her when the fighting¡¯s done, which is a bit ridiculous. We are far beyond the need for a negotiator, but Alana approved her presence and I¡¯m sure the succubi can protect her, so here she is.

    ¡°Ready?¡± I ask when my elf has strapped on her last knife and Alana has tightened the straps of her gauntlets. I get a savage grin and a grim nod. Time to make a point.

    Slowly, so slowly I feel like a monster pretending to be a human, I step out of the carriage. A warm breeze lifts my hair off my shoulders as I step onto the dirt road. Saints, it¡¯s a nice day. I should be sitting beneath one of the trees of Kierra¡¯s garden, enjoying a bowl of fruit and honey. Or maybe strolling through the Grand Market, frivolously spending gold I haven¡¯t earned. What a waste to spend a day like this wading through blood.

    The poor knights standing in front of the flimsy gate of the Teppin estate don¡¯t recognize death as it comes for them. I can hear them muttering to themselves.

    ¡°That her?¡±

    ¡°Fucking barbed arrow up the ass, I got out of bed at the ass of dawn for a scrap of a girl?¡±

    ¡°Scrap? Too many nights in the Zone has fucked your eyes. I¡¯ve seen bulls with less muscle than her.¡±

    ¡°The fuck? My thumb is thicker than those arms.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d do her.¡±

    ¡°Quiet, all of you!¡±

    After deep and authoritative voice snaps at them, the men shut up. They even straighten their backs, their grips tightening on their weapons, swords and shields for all of them. Having found the leader, I keep my attention on him. He isn¡¯t the biggest of their number or the best equipped. I¡¯d say he could do with a refitting. His breastplate is as dull as the shoddy armor Alana still wears, I really must do something about it, and just as scratched. Standing between the mountain of a man to his left and the cockily posing warrior without a helmet to his right, he doesn¡¯t seem like much at all. But there is something about him. An intensity in his dark eyes.

    Ah. Maybe he does recognize what¡¯s coming for him.

    ¡°That¡¯s far enough,¡± he shouts at me when I¡¯m close enough that he expects me to hear him, drawing his sword from its scabbard. The other knights don¡¯t draw but their bodies are tense, ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice. I imagine he¡¯s thinking something similar to me when I stopped the carriage. I¡¯m far enough away to make me feel safe but not so far that he and his men can¡¯t reach me before I can do much damage.

    Hilarious. The last thing these men want to do is get close to me, but I suppose keeping me any further away would make any discussions difficult.

    ¡°Lourianne Tome. By decree of King Sebastian kor Harvest, you are to be detained for acting against the king¡¯s law. Surrender peacefully and no harm will come to you,¡± the leader says in a stern but droll voice. His tone suggests he knows damn well I have no intention of surrendering. ¡°Don¡¯t, and we will detain you by force.¡±

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I ask, projecting my voice and ignoring his ultimatum. ¡°I warned your lord I was coming. If he has any sense, he investigated us and knows what we can do. You know what we can do. Why are you standing here instead of dragging your liege out of this city?¡±

    There¡¯s a long pause where I think the leader won¡¯t answer me. But then he tucks his sword under his arm and removes his helm, revealing a square and scarred face that only a mother could love. ¡°I am Sir William Deckard,¡± he roars with the vigor of a proud lion. ¡°One of the Glorious!

    ¡°My great-grandfather was given his family name by the Lord Teppin he served. We have defended the Teppin family and Quest for generations. I received your note and I know of your wife. What she did to Emeritus. I counseled escape but my lord has greater concerns than his own life. He has ordered me to defend this road so I will defend it with my life.

    ¡°However, you are not a knight. There are no oaths constraining your actions. Leave Quest. I guarantee neither my fellows nor my lord will care to chase you. End this farce before you cause any more damage.¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re wrong about one thing, Sir Deckard. I¡¯ve got plenty of oaths binding me. That note was my attempt to work around them. A mercy you idiots really don¡¯t deserve. And now you have the stones to ask for more.¡±

    I wonder if he knows I can see exactly how deeply he frowns. ¡°This is a mercy for you too. You are strong, yes, and I don¡¯t doubt you¡¯ve brought strong people with you, but you are outmanned and surrounded.¡±

    ¡°Outmanned and surrounded. You¡¯re not wrong, but you are working under a few misconceptions. Chief among them, that I¡¯m the one in danger.¡±

    ¡°So be it,¡± Sir Deckard says, voice heavy with exhaustion and dread.

    He¡¯s still putting on his helmet when I transform.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-81

    A noble is in charge of every aspect of the land they govern. They are charged with taking stock of the resources of their territory and allocating them to serve the best interests of the people.

    That rarely happens.

    Most of the time, the people are given just enough to keep them alive and stave off a rebellion while the rest is used to furnish the lavish lifestyles of the rich. A portion of that is used to protect said lifestyles, either from natural enemies or other nobles not content with what their own territories might offer, usually by funding the creation and maintenance of a knight order.

    It used to be that knighthood was a distinguished honor. They represented the elites of any force, men and women who could change the course of a battle. In recent years, in no small part due to the efforts of the Grand Hall to expand the field of magic, the title of master covers a variety of fields. There are masters of communication magic, like the deceased Aurelius, who specialize in sending messages to multiple people and across vast distances. There are masters of cooking, cleaning, and performing arts who use their magic to better the lives of others. Masters of construction who can do the work of a hundred men when it comes to erecting walls or laying down roads.

    In times before, there was only one kind of master. Masters of combat. Those who reached the pinnacle of martial and magical arts, then combined them. They were the swords and shields of humanity that ensured its survival through the upheaval of the Great War and fought the native manabeasts of Harvest for their new home.

    Back then, knights were also part of the nobility, albeit at the lowest rung of the ladder. The title didn¡¯t give them any power, but it was a stepping stone for the common man to work his way into the ranks of true nobles. It was even a respected method of doing so, unlike the ¡°gold nobles¡± who buy their way to power, like the Guiness. Greasing the right hands was hardly something to be admired but none disrespected a man who fought titans for his prestige.

    After Harvest was firmly established, the need for elite warriors plummeted. The reputation of knighthood became a tool, nobles dubbing their personal security forces as knight orders to endear them to the public and attract the talented amongst them who dreamed of bettering themselves through service.

    However, as knights became more numerous, their standards became less rigorous. Some orders are more demanding of their members, but in general, anyone can put on armor and call themselves sir or ser regardless of their skill, temperament, or accomplishments.

    The Teppin family¡¯s knights, the Hounds of Glory, are better than most, as the lord can pick his forces from a pool of experienced hunters or the offspring derived from a well of talent, but they are nothing close to their predecessors. Certainly not strong enough or, by the saints, mentally prepared for an enemy like me.

    With my all-encompassing vision, I can see the startled knights in front of me, stunned into inaction as the woman in front of them transforms into glossy purple ooze. I make no attempt to condense my enormous mass and so continue to expand until I tower over them and stretch wider than the road.

    Behind me, Kierra, Aland and Bell move. The imp accompanies my knight as she sprints towards the guards behind us, engaging them before they can trap us in a pincer. My elf comes up behind me and crouches, waiting to take advantage of my assault. At the carriage, Geneva remains seated on the driver¡¯s bench, defending the vulnerable Yulia while also in a position to assist wherever needed.

    Seeing everything is in place, I put my inhumanness on full display. From my massive body sprout countless tentacles. I let them wave and snake through the air like the paper streamers that decorate vendor stalls during festivals, letting the men before me bask in their terror and confusion.

    ¡°The hell is that thing?!¡±

    ¡°Fuck me with a hot poker! If you can do that with a physical affinity, I¡¯m a princess!¡±

    ¡°Saints preserve us. Is that some kind of titan?¡±

    ¡°Focus!¡± Sir Deckard shouts, his tone the only one steady. ¡°I will tell you what it is. It¡¯s an enemy and we will stop it. Signal the backline. I want to see a rain of arrows and a cycle through the elements. Find me something that will hurt this thing!¡±

    His orders steady the men. That is until my unfathomable limbs take on a recognizable shape, the ends sharpening into points. They may not know what I am, but the experienced fighters can recognize weapons when they see them.

    To their credit, the foul-mouthed knight releases two quick bursts of fire into the air while spouting a stream of admittedly creative curses, what I assume is the signal to attack, and none of the others falter. A small seed of regret sprouts in my chest. Seeing them reminds me of my own servants. Odd personalities united by odder circumstances, loyal to a fault and willing to stand against impossible odds for the one who gave them purpose. I¡¯m sure we could have gotten along if things were different. It¡¯s enough to make me wonder¡­

    But not enough to stop me.

    My many limbs stab at them. They are nowhere near as fast as I am in my prime form, my oozey self lacking the muscles needed to generate that kind of force, but my assault makes up in speed with saturation. The dozens of limbs may as well be a wall of death pressing down on them.

    Amazingly, their first instinct is to fight. They weave through my many limbs, deflecting or blocking the attacks they aren¡¯t fast enough to sidestep or duck, covering for one another to create gaps in my attacks. Sir Deckard is a true menace, each swing of his sword strong enough to cut through my limbs despite their deceptive density. His eyes blaze with magic and a green glow coats his arms. A physical affinity.

    In answer to their signal, the knights waiting a distance away unleash their own attacks. The first is a rain of arrows. I don¡¯t know what their plan was to launch such an attack without hitting their own allies before but that¡¯s hardly a concern now that I¡¯ve made myself such a large target. They couldn¡¯t miss if they tried, I bet.

    After the arrows is the first wave of spells. Fire, of course. It¡¯s the most effective when hunting manabeasts, unrivaled in its potential for sheer destruction. Once the spells hit, there comes another round of arrows. Then another round of spells, this time spikes of ice. As Deckard ordered, the casters are cycling through the elements, trying to find my weakness.

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    Their heroic efforts are for naught. The casters are no titans and their magic is completely harmless. The knights and their swords manage to get past my many limbs and begin hacking away at me to no effect. I don¡¯t bleed. I don¡¯t even feel pain. The closer they get, the worse their situation becomes. If I don¡¯t have to reach as far, I can make more tentacles with the same amount of ooze. Instead of dozens, they have to fend off dozens upon dozens of sharp limbs. They manage for a while, guarding their backs with walls of earth and using explosions of fire and wind to create space, but my assault is relentless.

    ¡°Retreat!¡± Sir Deckard calls when he notices that their efforts are amounting to nothing. Too bad for them it¡¯s a lot easier to enter a web than to walk out of one. Anyone that turns their back becomes a target, meaning their attempt to retreat is slow, painfully so. And, as their exhaustion mounts and their magic is spent, they become sloppy. More of my limbs get through their defenses and their wounds mount. One of the knights goes down when a limb pierces his leg. Another, the cocky bastard not wearing a helmet, dies when a limb pulps his skull.

    ¡°RAAHHHH!¡±

    With a roar of defiance, Sir Deckard¡¯s magic shakes the ground. Giant spikes of earth erupt from the ground, piercing and pushing back my limbs, creating a corridor of safety, a clear path of retreat. The effort pushes him to his limit, I can tell that much from the grimace on his face, but the pain doesn¡¯t stop him from grabbing his injured comrade and running for all he¡¯s worth. Toward their backline, where the rest of his forces continue to throw anything and everything they can at me. The ranged assault intensifies to cover their retreat.

    That¡¯s when I start to move.

    The barrage of projectiles cease as the casters turn their attention to halting my progress. The ground before me is riddled with spikes, frozen over, pulled apart, built upon, and blasted apart. Barrels are launched at me, the contents hissing and smoking when they touch the ground or clinging to me as they burn. It doesn¡¯t matter.

    This form is beyond mortal means and understanding. I roll forward, unstoppable and indomitable, crushing anything stupid enough to get in my way. The knights fall but I leave their bodies alone. Even if the thought of devouring people wasn¡¯t utterly abhorrent, I wouldn¡¯t want their forms stuck in my mind, reminding me of this mess every time I need to change forms. Their remains are flattened by my rolling mass, the brave knights turned to red paste and twisted metal.

    My advance forces them to retreat, until there¡¯s nowhere left to go. With the lord¡¯s house at their backs, the knights make their final stand. Most of them. In the face of certain death, a handful lose their courage and break ranks, ignoring Deckard¡¯s rallying cries as they run for the tiniest hint of survival. Exposing themselves to a new danger.

    Fleeing prey excites the predator waiting in my shadow and Kierra makes her move, running after those that dare disgrace themselves. She is a blur of green magic, dark fur, sharp fangs, and metal as she tears them apart, the already exhausted knights as hapless as pigs raised for slaughter.

    Their defeat is anti-climatic, the fate of all who try to swim in a river of raging currents. Eventually, their strength fails them and they drown. Even Sir Deckard, the best of them, dies a pointless death, several limbs piercing his by-then battered breastplate as he pushes another comrade out of the way.

    When the bodies stop twitching, I change back to my prime form. I imagine I make an odd sight, a handsome naked woman, pristine while standing in the midst of bloody chaos. I try to step around the gore but soon realize that¡¯s a pointless endeavor, instead doing what I can to hold back my disgust. It¡¯s a bad day when the best thing on the bottom of my feet is blood.

    Kierra lopes toward me as I reach the front door of the estate, her clothes hanging off her misshapen body. Within a few steps, her bulky arms and furred, bowed legs revert back to the usual visage of my beautiful wife, though her teeth are a little too large and pointy when she smiles at me. ¡°How is it?¡± she asks, still panting with excitement. ¡°Being unrivaled?¡±

    ¡°Boring and dirty,¡± I reply in a droll tone. If she hoped that this little outing would ignite my passions for rampant slaughter and brutality, she¡¯s going to be disappointed. This is exactly the kind of senseless loss of life I wanted to avoid. But I can¡¯t afford to be soft. Otherwise, I¡¯ll have a repeat of today but against the whole of Quest, rather than one noble.

    Her eyes, more gold than green in the bright light of day, stare me down, picking me apart, but there is no judgment there. She¡¯s studying me, trying to understand me. A large improvement over her previous attitude of simply molding me into her ideal savage. ¡°Hm,¡± she hums as a hand ideally combs debris out of her long, silver hair. I don¡¯t stare too closely at what falls out. ¡°Are we waiting for the pets?¡±

    ¡°Geneva is bringing Yulia and Bell is¡­detaining the guards with Alana.¡±

    ¡°We do not need them.¡±

    ¡°Of course we don¡¯t.¡± We just slaughtered the Teppin¡¯s house entire security force. No one but a mad man would deny us anything we want. But the snow bunny traveled a long way to be a part of this. It seems¡­unkind to leave her out of things. ¡°I¡¯m just generous to a fault.¡±

    ¡°My gentle conqueror.¡±

    My wife sidles up behind me, looping her arms around my neck as she leans into me. One of her hands brazenly gravitates to my chest but I smack it aside. ¡°Later,¡± I grumble. Really not the time for such things though I don¡¯t blame her. Blood and violence has always excited her.

    ¡°Mm. I believe it is my turn,¡± she whispers into my ear before nipping at it. The words are almost enough to make me change my mind, but the steady clop of hooves pulls me back from temptation.

    My carriage pulls up to the house. Amazingly, the horses pulling it don¡¯t so much as whine as they step through the mess of dead bodies. Poor beasts probably have Geneva¡¯s fingers knuckle-deep in their brains. I wonder if she does this to every horse we rent? If so, I¡¯ll have to tell her to stop. Beasts of burden that remain calm under any circumstances are valuable. We aren¡¯t hurting for crowns but I¡¯d never say no to more.

    The succubus is completely unbothered, of course. She wears her usual smirk as she observes the results of our battle, or rather one-sided massacre, but keeps her peace. Does she think I¡¯m angry at her? Or is something like this truly so insignificant to her that it doesn¡¯t warrant a comment?

    Yulia is by far the most affected. She is hesitant as she steps off the carriage, desperately trying to hold a stern expression. It crumbles with every passing moment as her wide eyes flick over her surroundings. By the time she reaches me, she¡¯s trembling.

    ¡°¡­how?¡± she asks.

    I ignore her and reach for the cloth she¡¯s carrying. A robe packed for just this occassion. Nothing fancy, just plain brown fabric with a belt to tie it off. Hard to have a civil conversation in the buff. ¡°It¡¯s enough that we won.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a scratch on you,¡± she says with some awe.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t anything new. You were at the March.¡±

    ¡°Once is a miracle. Twice suggests a pattern. Three times is truth and undeniable.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, let¡¯s hope I don¡¯t have cause for a third demonstration of what I can do.¡± I ignore Yulia¡¯s heavy gaze as I walk up to the door, pulling Kierra along with me. I can hear the family on the other side, several pounding heartbeats gathered in one spot. Are they hiding? Waiting?

    I pause, trying to imagine what they must be feeling. Then I knock, three strong raps on the door. ¡°I am Lourianne Tome. The fighting is done and I wish to speak with Lord Teppin. No more harm has to be done today if you cooperate.¡±

    There¡¯s no response so I knock again.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re in there. If all your knights couldn¡¯t keep me away, a door will not fare much better.¡±

    Still no response. I knock again, a little louder.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to keep this civil but it¡¯s difficult when you keep me out here like a disobedient pet,¡± I snarl, frustration leaking into my voice. And still, they ignore me.

    My temper, already stirred from my distaste for the whole situation, spikes.

    I kick the door, just barely controlling my strength so that is only splinters rather than snaps.

    ¡°OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!¡±

    Finally, one of the heartbeats leaves the others and approaches. It hesitates on the opposite side of the door but, thankfully for them, not for long. There is a faint click as the lock is undone and then the door swings open.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-82

    If I am a monster playing a being human, the man who opens the door is a rabbit playing at being a stoic servant. He¡¯s an elderly man dressed in a nice white skirt, dark pants, and a half apron instead of a jacket. Dark eyes peer at me from a weathered face with wrinkles made more prominent by a deep frown.

    At first glance, the old man looks like a disapproving elder ready to scold the misbehaving children on his doorstep. However, that stern demeanor is just a fa?ade to hide the fear churning beneath. His heart is beating so hard I¡¯m afraid it might stop at his age and his hands are shaking. Fear wafts off him like a bad cologne, a stench that thick within the house.

    I have the senses of a predator and they are all telling me the same thing. There is prey here. Weakness.

    The old man studies me as I study him. What is he trying to find? An in? An out? A man of his age must have contended with all kinds. It isn¡¯t unusual for servants of larger families to have their own connections and means. But before I can figure him out, he drops into a formal bow, hiding the windows to his soul before I can figure him out.

    ¡°Lady Tome. The lord awaits you in the parlor,¡± he says in a grave tone.

    I stare at the top of his balding head, the moments stretching as I wait for him to say something else. Do something else. The old man barely breathes, giving me no excuse to act out. Enforcing order on a chaotic situation through sheer will. It would be admirable if it weren¡¯t so utterly pointless. There¡¯s no point trying to control the situation, there¡¯re already dozens of corpses littering the ground.

    ¡°Take me,¡± I say dismissively. No offense to him, but I¡¯m not interested in him. Not in anyone here, truly. I didn¡¯t want them involved in this mess, but they just had to be stubborn bastards.

    He lets out a shuddering breath, likely to gather himself, before straightening up. His spine is as straight as an iron rod, and just as tense, as he guides us through the house. My gaze flicks about, taking in the sparse decorations and minimal amount of furniture. It¡¯s not as bad as the James¡¯ estate but not much better. I doubt they have a similar tradition of scarcity and supplementing the human desire for nice things with martial zeal. Has the family fallen on hard times?

    The parlor is pleasant enough, with neutral walls and a bright wood floor. There are two plush couches in the middle of the room, a long table between with a flower arrangement atop it. There is a small nook in the left wall just big enough to fit a small circular table, surrounded by large arched windows. It must be beautiful during summer, with plenty of sunlight streaming in and a blooming garden to look out at. A room designed to be full of life.

    But there is nothing but gloom and tension in it today, the mood brought down by its occupants. Three women are huddled together on one of the couches. One is noticeably older than the others, a matronly woman wearing a white conservative dress, her light brown hair tied in an updo. In her arms is the youngest woman, barely a teen, while the older looks only a few years older than me. The sight of them angers me. It¡¯s one thing if this dumb bastard wants to risk his own life but he kept his family here when he knew an enemy was preparing to siege his house? Is he that arrogant? That callous? That criminally stupid?

    Standing before one of the arched windows is the man himself, or at least I assume so given the situation and that he matches the description I have of him. Victor Raymon Tepin, second of his name, current lord of Quest and its associated territory. A man of few accomplishments, middling authority, and scant reputation.

    He strikes a proud figure, with a straight back and his hands clasped behind his back. His blue jacket and dark pants are pristine and wrinkle-free, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders and thin frame, show off his wealth but his scuffed and sensible boots speak to a man comfortable with hard work. He still has a head full of lush hair though its graying along the sides and there are deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. With his lips pressed in a thin line and his strong chin held high, a generous might call him handsome. Mayhap distinguished.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    I¡¯m not a generous person and am far from a generous mood. All I see is a tired man putting on pretenses.

    ¡°It¡¯s basic courtesy to introduce yourself when entering another¡¯s home,¡± the man says without deigning to look at me. His self-importance is both impressive and nauseating. Especially given that he¡¯s staring out at what remains of his knights. Doesn¡¯t even bother to look at me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a flying saint,¡± I snap as I step further into the room. Before I can say anything else, a soft hand squeezes my shoulder. I turn to find Yulia watching me with a meaningful gaze. I almost refuse the silent quest in her eyes, my annoyance almost ready to overflow and spill onto her, but I only entertain the dark thoughts for a moment.

    I step back and she flashes me a grateful smile before turning to the lord. ¡°Manners are a common courtesy but, as this is far from a common situation, I believe a few discourtesies can be excused.¡±

    Having been properly engaged, the lord finally responds. He turns to us, thoughts locked behind a stony expression. Brown eyes bounce between us before focusing on Yulia. Did this bastard just¡­dismiss  me? I have to grit my teeth and push down my surging temper. ¡°And you are?¡±

    ¡°Yulianna James, eldest daughter of Duke Erenhart James. I¡¯ve come to Quest to assist my sister, Alana James, in collecting a debt owed to us by the residents of your city.¡±

    His frown deepens at the mention of the March. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about this fraudulent debt incurred by fools ensnared in a scheme concocted to rob Quest of its wealth. A debt that would cripple this city. Why should we honor it?¡±

    ¡°As a noble, you should very well know that a party agreeing to a contract without fully understanding its clauses does not protect them from penalties should they break them. But decency isn¡¯t why Quest should honor its agreement. That is much simpler. If you persist in this lunacy, what transpired in your home will happen to the rest of the city. Make no mistake, good lord. Victory will have its due. We would prefer it in gold, but blood will suffice.¡±

    A pretty speech but why in the nine hells is she waxing on about things we already know? And why is that bastard still ignoring me? Get on with it.

    The lord scoffs and turns back to the window. Ignoring all of us now. Is this some weird power play? Does he not realize that he doesn¡¯t have any power? That this whole conversation is a whim of mine? A mercy?

    ¡°I didn¡¯t take the proud knights of the north for bandits.¡±

    ¡°And I didn¡¯t take the lord of the south for fools. If you can¡¯t handle a small group of casters¡ª¡± What a blatant lie. She knows damn well we¡¯re a lot more than a small group of casters. ¡°¡ªhow can you expect to fend off a whole army?¡±

    ¡°An army that may not exist.¡±

    I expect the comment to make Yulia flinch, at the very least, but her expression is just as stoic as his. ¡°Southerners know nothing of Victory. We lose thousands every year. And every year, we march. We are not the guilds and our knights are not hunters.¡±

    For the love of the saints, get to the point!

    ¡°There is no need to speak of war. We¡¯ve made it clear to all who bother to listen that we want to settle this peacefully. There is no need to wash your hands in more blood.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come off it!¡±

    I¡¯m not the only one frustrated by the quiet conversation. The woman seated at the end of the couch stands, shrugging off the hand of the matronly woman that tries to drag her back down. It¡¯s clear with one look that she¡¯s his daughter, their frowns are identical. Thankfully, the rest of her features are similar to the matron¡¯s, who I¡¯m guessing is the Teppin matriarch.

    She¡¯s dressed in clothes that my knight favors, a loose pair of shirt and pants that look easy to move in. Rather unremarkable, altogether. If I saw her on the street, I¡¯d forget her in the same moment, but her audacity is giving her presence.

    ¡°What in the burning Paradise are you fuckers even doing here?!¡± she yells with righteous indignation. ¡°Aren¡¯t the guilds the ones you have a problem with? Huh? Do you see any guildies around here?¡±

    The affront in her tone is so thick, one would think she had suffered every injustice in the world before we kicked down her door. This whole family is incredible.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I ask disdainfully, breaking the calm atmosphere carefully crafted by Yulia.

    ¡°What do you care?¡±

    ¡°Villarey!¡± the matronly figure shouts, eyes wide with fear. When I turn to her, she carefully forces the young woman reluctant to leave her arms away and stands, smoothing out the skirts of her dress with nervous gestures. ¡°Her name is Villarey Teppin¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lacor! And it¡¯s Rey,¡± the audacious woman hisses.

    Her mother glares at her before turning back to me. ¡°She¡¯s been attending the training for prospective hunters sponsored by One For All and feels an unwarranted loyalty to hunters.¡±

    ¡°Unwarranted? Are you kidding? This city, saints, our family would be nothing without the guilds. They built this city. We just moved in once the hard work was done,¡± she sneers. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m not protecting them. I want nothing more than for this crazy, lavender-eyed bitch to get out of our house and kill someone else¡¯s friends. But since we¡¯re the ones about to be slaughtered in our own home, I at least want to know why!¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-83

    The parents seem dismayed by the actions of their daughter, her mother watching her with poorly repressed horror while her father glares with disapproval. Do they expect her to face death with quiet dignity?

    I can understand the romance of going out with pride. When Crowley Cain snatched me from the King¡¯s Road and sacrificed me in vain, I refused to let him see my pain and regret. But, in the end, I broke before my divine father.

    It isn¡¯t easy to remain stoic when facing the great ending. Rey seems entirely incapable of it, but her reckless temper is leagues better than the fearful cowering of who I assume is her sister. She is the greatest source of fear in the house and the smell is so pungent it¡¯s giving me a headache. A design flaw, perhaps.

    ¡°Rey, was it?¡± I step toward the fiery woman. ¡°Allow me to explain why we¡¯re all here. It¡¯s because he¡ª¡± I point an accusing finger at Lord Teppin. ¡°¡ªcouldn¡¯t mind his own fucking business and was too stubborn to run when I gave him the chance.¡±

    ¡°Run? What is she talking about?¡± I watch the young woman¡¯s explosive anger shift targets from me to her father. Even the shivering daughter looks up at my words, eyes wide with potent emotion. The matriarch of the family turns away. I guess only the children were kept in the dark.

    ¡°Go on,¡± I prod the silent lord. ¡°Tell her how you ignored the opportunity to protect your family and your people.¡±

    ¡°Answer the question, you limp-dicked, paper-pushing pussy!¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡± her father snaps, his carefully controlled expression finally breaking.

    ¡°What. Does. She. Mean?¡±

    Realizing that his daughter won¡¯t leave the topic alone, he begrudgingly answers. ¡°Two days ago, I received a letter from Lady Tome.¡± His eyes briefly flick to me. ¡°It demanded I flee from my home and should I refuse, I would be confronted with her ire with me for charging her for her crimes.¡±

    ¡°¡­you son of a shit-licking dumbass!¡±

    ¡°I am your father! You will show me the respect I am due!¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. My respectful father that just got us all killed,¡± she sneers back, not at all intimidated by his roar. ¡°The people who killed a guildmaster inside his guild announce their intentions to attack you and what do you do? You sit there and take it. Worse, you drag us into the line of fire, fucking literally.¡±

    ¡°I brought you home, where I could protect you,¡± he hisses through grit teeth.

    ¡°What a wonderful job. Do we look safe?¡±

    That takes some of the fire out of his temper, the weight of impending death banking his anger. Their little show fills me with warmth. It shows me that I did the right thing. Any sensible person would have left the house and spared the foolish knights outside.

    I made have killed them, but this tragedy is as much the lord¡¯s fault as mine. Mercy can only go so far and I¡¯m not a horrible monster. Since I¡¯m not, I should deliver this family from their pit of despair.

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    ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill you.¡±

    Immediately, I have the whole room¡¯s attention. Even Yulia looks shocked. What does she take me for? ¡°If I wanted you dead, I wouldn¡¯t have bothered to send a warning,¡± I explain slowly.

    ¡°Then what was all this for?¡± the angry nobleman demands.

    ¡°To make a point,¡± I say, holding back a chuckle at their incredulous expressions. ¡°I wanted you to capitulate so the city would understand how dangerous I am without having to shed blood. Yu¡ªLady James said it. We want to handle this mess peacefully. Preferably quietly too. You¡¯re the ones that made this more complicated than it needs to be.¡±

    ¡°Are you trying to tell me¡­¡± Lord Teppin pauses to draw in a steadying breath, clearly struggling to control himself. ¡°That you barged into my home and slaughtered valorous men¡­for nothing?¡±

    Yulia opens her mouth but it¡¯s my turn to put a hand on her shoulder to quiet her. I pull her behind me without bothering to check how she reacts, more than a little fed up with her so-called negotiating.

    ¡°No, not for nothing. Your orders for the guard to detain me emboldened the guilds. Who is going to negotiate with a wanted woman? They think they can ignore the debts they owe because the woman sent to collect them is going to be dragged to the royal dungeons. Do you know what that means?¡±

    The noble stiffens as I approach him, but he refuses to flinch or turn away. I smirk as I grab him by the chin, forcing him to meet my gaze. As I thought, he can see a portion of the massacre from the windows.

    ¡°If they aren¡¯t afraid of me, if they sense even the smallest hint of weakness, we might have to do that¡ª¡± I point to the mess outside. ¡°¡ªto the entire city. Maybe to the entire kingdom. I don¡¯t know what you think of me, but I really don¡¯t want that to happen. Even if that means I have to kill a couple dozen knights, defy the crown, and embarrass a lord or two. But make no mistake, Lord Teppin. You¡¯re the one that forced me to do this.¡±

    I throw him backward, making the proud man stumble. My next target is the loud and brash Rey. Unlike her father, she does flinch, taking a large step backward. ¡°My hope was that seeing a noble, the figurehead of the city, and the symbol of the crown¡¯s authority, run with his tail tucked behind his legs would give the guilds pause. If they stop, they may think, and it¡¯ll only take a little thought for them to realize how stupid it is to fight either me or the north, let alone both of us.

    ¡°I also needed a place to stay, since your order resulted in me losing my home. The Golden Feathers is comfortable, but I¡¯m not used to sharing a space with strangers and I¡¯m far beyond staying in a tiny hovel. Luckily, you own the only estate in the city. A happy coincidence. Everything would have worked out perfectly fine if you left.¡±

    ¡°If I left,¡± Lord Teppin hisses behind me as I turn away, ¡°then we would be finished as a noble family. You blatantly flaunt your disregard for the king¡¯s law and expect me to do nothing about it? If I faltered, Sebastian would have our peerage in an instant. The crown has always wanted more power over Quest. You worry about showing weakness? If a sycophant that doesn¡¯t understand the city usurps our position, this city will burn.¡±

    I do him the same insult he paid me at the start of the conversation and ignore him. ¡°Do you agree?¡± I ask Rey.

    ¡°¡­he may be a dumb bastard, but he has a point.¡±

    ¡°Does he? I think he¡¯s been spotting his self-important horseshit for so long, you don¡¯t know the truth. You think someone like him isn¡¯t replaceable?¡± I grin at the indecision in her gaze. ¡°I bet he did this all for himself. Make himself look good. Show the hunters he¡¯s not a coward, right? Cause that¡¯s how they see him. How you se him. Maybe his wife too. All women? I don¡¯t see any young children or mistresses around. Maybe he needs a big win to get it up again.¡±

    ¡°How dare you!¡± the incensed man shouts. I keep ignoring him.

    ¡°Whatever his reason, you and your family are trapped in this house with, as you said, a crazy, lavender-eyed bitch. And now said bitch has to decide what to do with you.¡±

    ¡°You can let us go,¡± Rey bravely states. ¡°Since you¡¯re apparently peaceful.¡±

    ¡°I could¡­but no. What does letting you all waltz out of this house say? That I¡¯m soft to those who go against me. That even beaten and bloody, a man they have no respect for managed to negotiate his way out of my grasp. No, you¡¯re all staying put. Any other ideas?¡±

    The chatty woman surprisingly holds her tongue, her expression sour.

    A wicked grin curls the ends of my lips as a fun idea comes to me. ¡°Then I suppose I¡¯ll have to think of something.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-84 (Marcella)

    In Marcella¡¯s experience, the worst thing in business was not competitors or an unstable market, but surprises. She hated surprises. A loss she could handle. Problems could be turned into opportunities if used properly. But surprises? By their nature, they could not be foreseen, planned for, or managed.

    Even what should be a good surprise could be dangerous, disrupting carefully laid plans or tempting sensible men to foolish action in vain hopes of making the most of fate. No, Marcella hated surprises and lately, she¡¯d had to contend with nothing but.

    It started with the assault on the hotel. Proof that the guilds had lost their minds in the face of the north¡¯s demands. Her father had yet to respond to her report about that slap to their faces and she wasn¡¯t looking forward to how the prideful man would demand recompense. Or how she, who allowed it to happen, would be sanctioned.

    Before the assault, Marcella was fairly certain she could, if not control, predict Lou¡¯s actions against the city. After? She didn¡¯t know would happen when the noblewoman stormed out of the hotel. If Lou hadn¡¯t handed over the assailant she questioned, alive and unharmed if more than a little shaken, the merchant might have retracted her offer to broker a meeting and divested herself of the situation entirely. The act proved Lou was still guided by reason. That, perhaps, the situation could be salvaged and order imposed on the chaos if she acted quickly and decisively enough.

    As such, Marcella focused on the things within her control. Namely, keeping her word and using the Guiness name to stop the hunters from stalling and bring them to the negotiating table. A simple task, especially given that the guilds were quite harried to please her after the actions of their so-called dark guild.

    Her guards had questioned the lone survivor of the assassins. It wasn¡¯t the first time she¡¯d heard of the Third Hand, but was surprised it was their members behind the attack. It was true they had a distinguished history but many years of peace and more official orders like the city guards made the Hand redundant.

    The most notable thing its members got up to in recent days was hunting down slick thieves and putting a little muscle on hunters that made the guilds look bad. The dark guild thought far more of itself than anyone else did, which could explain taking on the request to assassinate Lou. It would be a quick way back to notoriety.

    Unfortunately, the only thing they accomplished was insulting one of the most powerful families in the kingdom. Hunters were romantic and prideful creatures. They thought of Quest as their territory, believed in their own power. They didn¡¯t care much for the crown¡¯s authority, let alone that of a high noble.

    But the people who ran the guilds, not the guildmasters but the administrators that handled the tedious details needed to keep an organization functioning, knew better than to anger the most powerful merchant in Harvest. Quest would be a very different place if the Guiness Company stopped moving grains from the south or ensuring the raw materials harvested by hunters had consistent buyers. Things could get downright uncomfortable for the residents if her father used his considerable wealth to play fast and loose with the market. The world became a scary place when one couldn¡¯t guarantee the price of bread.

    Not even the last minute request brought by Lou¡¯s brightly colored imp to change the meeting place from her hotel to the estate of Lord Teppin dissuaded them. Rather, it made the hunters more eager to comply. Lou was correct. Brazenly sieging the estate of a noble was a good way to make a point. Forget challenging the city. Lou had, in the most undeniable way possible, challenged the king. A bold move that thoroughly quashed the rumors that Victory didn¡¯t have the forces to march on the city. If they dared challenge the crown, they certainly dared to challenge the guilds.

    Their quick response didn¡¯t allow for much preparation, though that was perhaps for the best. It was her experience that the more voices involved in a negotiation, the more tedious it tended to be. With that in mind, having a single man to represent the guilds¡¯ interests in the first round of talks seemed be the saints¡¯ blessing, though the man himself was not very impressive.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    She was sure he could cut a more impressive figure in better circumstances, but the consequences of stress, dark bags beneath his bloodshot eyes, an unhealthy pallor, and slouched posture as he dragged himself forward, made for an inelegant figure. His jacket and trousers were of a good quality, the best a common man with sensible ideals would spend his hard-earned coin on, but poorly combed dark hair and scraggly facial hair gave him a bedraggled appearance more suitable for a laborer. He looked exhausted and the constant manner in which he dragged a hand over his face didn¡¯t help the impression.

    Lou¡¯s message said that the meeting would be an evening affair over dinner, which we should provide. The hunter arrived late in the afternoon. Marcella, a big believer in creating opportunities through goodwill, offered the man a room to lie down in. He¡¯d refused at first, instead wanting to ask her about her thoughts about the noblewoman he was soon to negotiate with, but Marcella wouldn¡¯t have a fraction of her reputation if she couldn¡¯t convince a man to do something he quite desperately wanted to do. She had him in a room in short order.

    When her men roused him two bells later, he looked much better, both because his eyes were not so red and because he bothered to wield a comb. Compared to how he arrived, he was downright energetic and after a glass of wine, almost pleasant.

    It took no effort at all to convince the man to take her more spacious carriage. Then, with him relaxed on expensive cushions and sipping on chilled wine, she was rewarded for her attention, as words poured from the man like an overturned bucket.

    ¡°This whole thing shouldn¡¯t be happening,¡± the hunter said with a deep sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to push aside the blame, ancestors know I can¡¯t escape my share of it, but this disaster was in the making for years. The guilds are a welcoming bunch, I should know, but they are prideful. Saints, all of Harvest is. No respect for people who do things a different way. I¡¯ve told them for years that they took the campaigns too lightly. It¡¯s not just cold and manabeasts.¡±

    ¡°You are in charge of sending hunters to the north?¡± she asked when he paused to take a drink.

    ¡°In charge? Bah! Wouldn¡¯t my job be so much easier if I had any authority. Guildmasters are worse than dogs when it comes to their bones. There¡¯s no way they would give a little administrator the power to command their hunters. No, I am an adviser only. I give them the information they need to make decisions for their people. In theory.

    ¡°In reality, it¡¯s much easier to listen to a man who knows about these things so they don¡¯t bother second-guessing my words. I¡¯m in charge of hunters working the campaigns in all ways that matter but it¡¯s important for my job that I don¡¯t say as much. The older I get, the more I try to avoid violence. Even the verbal kind.¡±

    ¡°A rare attitude for a negotiator.¡±

    The hunter scoffed. ¡°A negotiator! That I¡¯m not, girl. I¡¯m just a man who knows a few things. I warned them about the March. That they needed to take it seriously. It took all kinds of storm-raising to get them to listen but by then it was too late. Well, now I¡¯ve warned them again. This time, they¡¯re listening, but they don¡¯t like what I have to say. They think by sending me to speak with this crazy girl, I might learn something that changes my mind, but it won¡¯t. I don¡¯t know this girl, but I know the north. My warning and my advice isn¡¯t going to change but the games must be played.¡±

    The hunter paused before taking his next drink and looked Marcella in the eye. ¡°Dare I ask what game you¡¯re playing? I¡¯d have thought you would be too busy handling that business with the Hand to be escorting me to this meeting.¡±

    ¡°Oh? I didn¡¯t think a hunter would so casually mention the dark guild.¡±

    ¡°Bah! Who cares about those fossils and their traditions? Traditions. I tell you, they¡¯re the bane of this world. It¡¯s tradition that¡¯s got us all in this mess. It¡¯ll kill us all.¡± He takes a large drink before pointing a thick finger at the merchant. ¡°You didn¡¯t answer the question.¡±

    ¡°No games from me, good sir. As a merchant, I¡¯ve a stake in the city and would not like to see it burned or ransacked. My family has a connection with Lady Tome, albeit a faint one. I believe I can make a difference. Do you know of Lady Tome¡¯s reputation?¡±

    ¡°I know too much of her. It¡¯s hard to separate the facts from wild speculation. Though there are a few things that remain constant. Beautiful women for one.¡± Marcella smirked as dark eyes looked her up and down. ¡°Suppose you¡¯ll be of help then.¡±

    ¡°I can only hope. Though there¡¯s no need to be so worried. Lou¡¯s isn¡¯t half the villain the city thinks she is.¡±

    ¡°Ancestors willing.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-85 (Marcella)

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    Marcella was inclined to agree with the quiet exclamation, though not even a hint of disquiet showed on her face. Their journey to the Teppin estate was short and uneventful, a stark contrast to what awaited them. She knew it would be bad when she saw the broken fence that surrounded the property, evidence that Lou¡¯s visit had involved some degree of force. She had underestimated exactly how forceful the noblewoman was.

    The closer they got to the large house in the distance, the worse the sights became. The normally manicured grass was burned and overturned, small craters spread throughout the area. Hanging out of them and haphazardly scattered about were dozens of bodies. Knights, Marcella guessed, from their armor and her knowledge of the Teppin forces. They weren¡¯t the strongest force in the city of magic and adventure, that would be a tough ask, but the lord had enough wealth to keep competent people on retainer.

    She knew of one in particular that had escaped the Company¡¯s recruitment, a hunter by the name of Deckard. She could confidently say that the Teppin¡¯s order, the Hounds, were no pushovers and anyone that thought to assault the lord would find themselves up against stiff resistance.

    Yet, that is not what the scene suggested. Marcella didn¡¯t have much experience with skirmishes, but even she could draw certain conclusions from the grim details. The many casualties, the knights with wounds in their backs, the eerie silence, and the fact that Lou had called for a meeting on the same day as the battle. Her observations suggested that Lou and whatever force she¡¯d brought with her hadn¡¯t simply won. They¡¯d dominated the poor knights, so much so that the hardened fighters had tried to turn tail and run. The act of cowardly self-preservation hadn¡¯t been enough to save them. Worse, Lou¡¯s forces had done decimated them while taking so little damage in return that the noblewoman was sure enough to invite hostile forces to a poorly secured location.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to tell you how to conduct business girl, but I¡¯d feel like an ass if I didn¡¯t at least say this. If things go bad in there, you need to get out of this city. This madwoman is bad enough on her own. I don¡¯t want to see what will happen with her leading an army of Moons and Stars.¡±

    ¡°Moon and Stars?¡±

    ¡°Northern knights, the hardest of the bunch. Pray you never meet them, especially not on the battlefield.¡±

    If Marcella didn¡¯t already have a idea of how serious the destruction surrounding her was, her escorts, guards employed by the Company, advising her to turn around would have enlightened her. They didn¡¯t argue when she rejected their advice, but they weren¡¯t happy and each of the four kept a hand on a weapon. The hunter led the way to the house with stiff shoulders and confident steps but paused before the door. ¡°Hey. You know this Tome woman?¡±

    ¡°¡­we are acquaintances at best.¡±

    ¡°Any idea what we are about to walk into?¡±

    ¡°None.¡± Something that irked the merchant. Not just because she hated surprises but because, for the first time since dealing with Lou, Marcella felt she might be in danger. Vaguely, she knew if Lou wanted to cause her harm, her guards wouldn¡¯t provide much challenge to an elven master caster with a pure affinity but now that certainty was being thrust in her face.

    She almost wished her sister was with her. Maxine had yet to return from her mysterious business trip, the details of with Marcella had yet to puzzle out despite raiding her room at the hotel. They were competitors but she would gladly share a little glory in exchange for what could be crucial insight into the Tome family.

    She suspected Maxine knew something so some importance. Her timing in escaping the city was simply too good, though it was a mystery how her sister managed to discover something before Marcella¡¯s informants.

    ¡°No point in stalling.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Marcella¡¯s hand caught the hunter¡¯s shoulder as he prepared to knock. ¡°Perhaps it would be best if I take the lead?¡± As unsettling as the situation was, she would not allow her presence to be in vain. Technically, she had no cause to be at these negotiations so, if she wanted a voice, she had to craft a place for herself.

    The hunter, probably as unsettled as she was, didn¡¯t hesitate to step aside. A hand idly combed through Marcella¡¯s dark hair as she faced the imposing door. A lesser woman would have retreated but she hadn¡¯t gotten where she was by letting fear rule her. Steeling her nerves, she raised a hand to grab the knocker on the door, but before she had the chance to use it, the door swung open.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    The merchant¡¯s gaze moved downwards to find the imp that had summoned her. Bell, she thought the creature was called. She didn¡¯t think much of Lou¡¯s elementals, as they were simply extensions of the summoner, no matter how competent.

    ¡°Your mistress is expecting us.¡±

    The imp opened the door and moved backwards, watching them intently with its four scarlet eyes until Marcella took her first step over the threshold of the door. Then it turned, swinging tail guiding them deeper into the house. The merchant was relieved that the house didn¡¯t show as much damage. Or any damage that she could see. That meant Lou wasn¡¯t violent for the sake of it and perhaps boded well for the lord¡¯s family.

    The creature led them to a sitting room that was a surprisingly mundane sight. Marcella didn¡¯t know what she expected. Given her reaction, probably to find the Teppin family bleeding out, their guts stuck to the ceiling.

    Instead, she found every member of the family in the room, whole and healthy, though in strange positions. Serving positions. The youngest daughter, Leeona the merchant recalled as she¡¯d had information gathered about the family before coming to the city, stood beside a woman Marcella would guess to be her mother, making her Layla Teppin, the matriarch of the family, and Lou¡¯s thrall at a serving cart. They were even dressed as servants, including plain brown dresses, aprons, and simple shoes.

    Another young woman, the older daughter Villarey the merchant suspected, was also dressed in the guise of a servant and in the midst of serving tea, including two extra cups for Marcella and the hunter. She didn¡¯t look happy doing the work, but she went about it with care and efficiency.

    There was a son, the oldest child, but Marcella¡¯s information said he was out of the city, in Rosentheim on some business or other. That only left the lord himself. He also hadn¡¯t been spared the indignity of being made to serve. Nor the change of dress. The man was dressed exactly the same as the women of the family, dress and all, and wielded a duster, cleaning the windows of the room while pointedly hiding his face.

    It was a ridiculous sight. One Marcella might have laughed at if the tension in the room wasn¡¯t so thick. Not that one would know it looking at Lou. The noblewoman sat in the middle of one of the two couches in the room, legs crossed and arms extended over the back of the cushions.

    On her right was Kierra, the elf similarly relaxed as she leaned into her wife, idly playing with a knife. On her left, Umphrieltalia, retired dorm mother of the Grand Hall and the would-be successor of Lord Remmings, who leaned into Lou¡¯s side like a lovesick girl, though her expression remained stoic. Another interesting addition to Lou¡¯s house, mainly as it was going to cause ripples in the capital. Internal instability in a group like the interrogators was bound to make people nervous. So far, it wasn¡¯t common knowledge and there were plenty other things to focus on, but it wouldn¡¯t be long before the matter of Remmings¡¯ successor had to be addressed.

    Beside the mental caster were the James sisters. Yulianna was seated at the end of the couch, trying hard not to appear sour but Marcella¡¯s trained eyes could see through such a weak facade. The merchant was curious what had upset the woman, especially as it was something that she was desperately attempting to keep inside.

    Alana stood at the end of the couch, undoubtedly the tensest person in the room. While the others seemed untouched by the carnage outside, she still bore traces of combat. Namely the blood splattered across her pants and boots. Marcella thought her chest would have been covered too but she most likely had worn a breastplate and wasn¡¯t wearing any armor. Given that she¡¯d had time to remove it, she also had plenty of time to clean up. That made the blood-stained clothes an intimidation tactic. As well as the sword on her hip. Something that was hardly needed but added a gravitas to the ridiculous situation the merchant appreciated.

    ¡°Marcella!¡± Lou called out happily, tone full of energetic amusement. ¡°You¡¯re right on time. I can¡¯t speak to the quality of dinner, the Teppin ladies aren¡¯t accustomed to housework, but I don¡¯t believe they can fail terribly with my thrall guiding them. Come, have a seat. And introduce your friend.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Marcella didn¡¯t let the strangeness of the situation give her pause. Thankfully, the hunter was the same, taking the seat on the opposite couch beside her without pause. ¡°This is Mr. Slaid, the hunter sent to negotiate on behalf of the guilds.¡±

    ¡°Just Slaid is fine,¡± the hunter grunted out. His eyes flicked to Lord Teppin, who still hadn¡¯t looked up, before returning to Lou. ¡°I¡¯m no one important enough to be called mister.¡±

    ¡°Yet they sent you to me.¡± Lou¡¯s smile gained a bit of an edge.

    ¡°Probably because I won¡¯t be missed if things go north. Which suits me fine. I don¡¯t care why I¡¯m here, only that I am. The last thing this city, no, this kingdom needs is another Emberton making things worse.¡±

    ¡°¡­fair. Oh, please have a drink. Rey worked hard on it.¡±

    The lord¡¯s daughter flinched when her name was spoken but said nothing. Slaid huffed at the sight. ¡°Should I ask why the Teppin family is playing at being servants?¡±

    ¡°Well, they insisted on staying despite me giving them the opportunity to leave while I commandeered their home so I thought they might as well make themselves useful. But forget them. They¡¯re not important.¡±

    And Marcella understood. They weren¡¯t important. That was why Lou had them on display. She wanted to show Slaid, and the guilds he represented, that hostility would result in overwhelming defeat and acute embarrassment. The summoner was using the entire family to make a point. Marcella was glad the family had survived the assault, as if they hadn¡¯t the crown would have surely intervened, but she doubted the lord¡¯s reputation would ever recover.

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about how we¡¯re going to keep the kingdom from tearing itself apart.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-86

    Fear, unease, nerves, tension.

    A far cry from the happy atmosphere of my party. I wish all this slaughtering could bring me back to that time of music and bright lights. That¡¯s what I¡¯m fighting for. I tell myself that at the end of all this blood and tedium are more of those carefree nights. It¡¯s the only thing that allows me to keep calm as I stare at the representative of the people responsible for my most pressing problems.

    This Slaid isn¡¯t the most impressive man. Not at all what I would imagine of a hunter with his balding head and large gut. But I suppose it¡¯s a good thing they sent someone like him rather than a hotheaded fighter. This is a man who looks like he makes a living crunching numbers, not valorously running into battle. That¡¯s the kind of man I want to talk to. The one who will weigh the odds and can swallow a temporary loss for the greater good.

    ¡°But before we start, we should all have something to eat.¡± I wave for Geneva to start serving food, alongside two of the Teppin women. It was a stroke of genius, deciding what to do with the family. Making them work for me is a poignant display of power, stating in a way that words can¡¯t that the hunters cannot depend on the power of the crown to intimidate me while keeping the lord close so he can witness our abilities.

    I won¡¯t be in this house forever and this conflict is far from over. Not to mention my troubles with the crown waiting in the bush. In the future, having a respected voice to speak for me, one without a vested interest like Marquis Guiness, might make things easier. I believe that if the Teppins can be made to understand our power and, more importantly, our motives, in regard to the fact that we have no ambitions of power within the kingdom, that the lord will be a useful ally in the future.

    There¡¯s also the fact that having nobles serve me is amusing. They weren¡¯t very enthusiastic when I made the suggestion, the lord himself protesting quite spiritedly. I simply put them in a room with Geneva with instructions for her to convince them without the use of her magic or violence.

    It only took three minutes before the matriarch and the youngest daughter were ready to cooperate. Another five for the fiery older daughter. An impressive fifteen for the stubborn lord. The first time I saw him in a servant¡¯s dress, I burst into laughter, the ridiculous sight alleviating most of my bad mood. Lord Teppin didn¡¯t share in my humor. I¡¯m sure if he could have, he''d have strangled me.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a typical strategy for negotiation,¡± Slaid says as a plate is set before him and a cup of wine from the lord¡¯s stash is poured. ¡°I think you¡¯re meant to keep the other guy uncomfortable so he makes mistakes.¡±

    ¡°You making a mistake is exactly what I¡¯m trying to avoid,¡± I reply before taking a sip of the tea prepared by Rey. I set the terrible brew down immediately. ¡°Again,¡± I tell her, sliding the cup toward the young woman.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Her dark eyes flick toward the succubus standing by the serving cart before her shoulders sag. ¡°Fuck,¡± she mutters under her breath, at a volume she likely thinks I can¡¯t hear, before she grabs the cup and takes it away. She moves to take the cup in front of Marcella, but the merchant waves her away and motions for the younger sister, Leeona, to pour her a cup of wine.

    ¡°Can you eat and talk?¡± I ask the hunter as the Teppin women step away.

    ¡°No reason why I shouldn¡¯t,¡± he replies while digging into the food. An unusual way to start negotiations but the simple truth is, people are more reasonable when they¡¯re full and happy. ¡°Let me be honest, your ladyship. I¡¯m not much of a negotiator. Or a hunter. I¡¯m here because I¡¯m both a man of the north and a resident of this city. I can see the whole picture, as it were. I know exactly how fucked we are if we go against the March but I¡¯m also here to safeguard Quest¡¯s future.¡±

    Oh, thank the saints! Finally, finally, someone reasonable and not afraid of solving the problem. ¡°That¡¯s great Slaid, because I could say the same for myself. There¡¯s no getting around the March but I¡¯d rather not destroy the kingdom in the process of settling it.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    He nods and takes a long drink of his wine. ¡°Alright. Should we start with what you want or what the guilds are willing to part with?¡±

    I imagine those are vastly different things, but not in the way he thinks. ¡°I don¡¯t want or need anything from the guilds.¡±

    The hunter pauses, staring at me incredulously. That¡¯s right. With the March as an excuse, I could strong-arm a king¡¯s ransom from the guilds. Take enough wealth to support a family through a dozen generations. That¡¯s what they¡¯re scared of, ready to go to war for. But it¡¯s not what I want.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t care less about the guilds, this city, and the stupid debt. Unfortunately, one of your people did something stupid and the duke wants his due. I¡¯m here to collect what¡¯s owed, not a crown more.¡± I stress the last sentence, staring him in the eyes until he nods in understanding. ¡°And I could do with a building, nothing too big but nothing modest either. Can you convince the guilds of that?¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re being very reasonable, Lady Tome. If it were just me, I¡¯d take that deal in a heartbeat. Probably spend the rest of my life singing your praises too. But it¡¯s not just me. The guildmasters don¡¯t like being intimidated. With the mess going on in the north, they aren¡¯t afraid. Not of you, not of the duke. There are a lot of extremists in the city. People who think Quest doesn¡¯t need the kingdom or the problems that come with it. They¡¯re using this mess as a platform to talk about going independent.¡±

    A pressure starts to build between my brows. There¡¯s always something else, isn¡¯t there? ¡°That has nothing to do with me.¡±

    ¡°Wish that were true but it has everything to do with you. You¡¯re the face of the enemy. The thing to rally against. Hunters are fighters. They¡¯d much rather be told to fight than run, to struggle rather than lie down. Almost as bad as Victory that way. And you¡¯re the thing to fight.¡±

    Rey sets down another cup of tea in front of me. I take a sip only to immediately spit it back into the cup. ¡°Again,¡± I hiss, pushing it back toward her.

    ¡°Oh, come on! It¡¯s perfectly¡­¡± Her words trail off. I don¡¯t have to look up to know my succubus is doing something. From the corner of my eye, I see Rey shudder. Then she takes the tea and walks off.

    ¡°Speak plainly,¡± Alana says. ¡°Can you stop the guilds from making trouble or not?¡±

    Slaid turns to her, eyes narrowing. ¡°James daughter? Guessing the bastard from the look of you.¡±

    I¡¯m about to rebuke him for his callous tone but my wife-to-be knows me too well. Her blue gaze spears me, silently urging me to keep my mouth shut. I abide by the silent request, knowing how important it is for my knight to defend herself. ¡°A James is a James,¡± she says. ¡°The only thing that matters is that I¡¯m here to collect Victory¡¯s debt.¡±

    ¡°True. Well, my lady, I¡¯ll do as you say and speak plainly. No. If you would agree to the guilds¡¯ offer, I¡¯d be confident in ensuring peace but just speaking it would be an insult to the ancestors.¡±

    ¡°What are they offering?¡± I ask, curious.

    ¡°Ten thousand crowns.¡±

    That¡­is not a small amount of money. Ten thousand crowns could buy my father¡¯s village and run it for a decade. It could buy the Teppin estate twice, maybe three times over. Saints, it could probably buy the estate Kierra used at the Grand Hall.

    But for the March, which entitles the winners to everything the losers are, it is a pittance and, as Slaid said, an insult.

    ¡°They¡¯re mad,¡± Alana hisses.

    ¡°They don¡¯t understand,¡± the hunter counters. ¡°To them, we are demanding their legacies for no reason at all. To men and women who fight for gold, the idea that an entire city would die for insubstantial tradition is absurd. They don¡¯t think they can beat Victory, but they do think that they can put up a fight, so much fight that it makes fighting unprofitable and the north will give up.¡±

    ¡°Like we¡¯ve given up fighting a war we¡¯ve made no progress in for five hundred years.¡± Yulia finally speaks up and her words are grim, eyes disinterested. There¡¯s a pause as the room waits for her to continue but she doesn¡¯t contribute anything more than a bad mood.

    ¡°I have a question.¡± Kierra stops cleaning beneath her nails with her blade and smiles at Slaid. ¡°You knew you couldn¡¯t stop a conflict. So, what are you here for?¡±

    ¡°It better not be for the free food,¡± I grumble. That might actually piss me off.

    The hunter sighs deeply. ¡°It¡¯s nights like this that make me wonder if maybe I should have stayed in Victory. Crazy as they are, they don¡¯t do despicable things like this. To answer your question elf, I¡¯m here to do what needs to be done and save these idiots from themselves. I¡¯m going to give you the group leading the charge to go to war with the north. If you take them out, the resistance will lose its most extreme voice. Might collapse entirely.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-87

    In the stories, treachery is always done under the cover of deep shadows and discussed in soft whispers. Never blatantly discussed out in the open, spoken without the obfuscation of code or metaphor.

    Slaid¡¯s blunt statement of his devious and, possibly, nefarious intentions prove he isn¡¯t a negotiator, as he claimed. And makes me suspicious of his character. I believe his actions are for the greater good, as allowing the hunters to continue this foolish path of resistance will undoubtedly doom them all, but to stop them he is offering his comrades¡¯ lives on a silver platter. Consigning them to death or worse.

    It may be the right decision, but I don¡¯t know if a man capable of making it is trustworthy. Worthy of respect, yes, but not trust.

    Something about it amuses my elf, making her chuckle. Talia is paying more attention now, eyes closed but face turned toward the hunter. Marcella is trying hard to hide her reaction but her pounding heart gives her away. As I don¡¯t smell fear, I can only guess that¡¯s excitement quickening her blood.

    Whether it¡¯s motivated by greed or anxiety, I don¡¯t know. Merchants can be a cold-hearted bunch and if there is money to be made in this situation, I expect a Guiness to know how to make it, but we are talking about rampant death and destruction.

    The James sisters¡¯ reactions are identical, grim. Their brows are furrowed and their lips are pressed in tight lines. In that moment, I can easily see their relation to one another and especially their dour father.

    Throughout the room, the Teppin family is frozen. They¡¯ve been doing their best to play the role of servants, keeping quiet as they go about their duties, but Slaid¡¯s words, and their implications, make the family responsible for the city and all the people in it, look up. Even the lord raises his head, his crippled pride overcome by his concern and sense of responsibility.

    Slaid¡¯s casual consumption of his dinner says he doesn¡¯t care about the tense mood he¡¯s created. ¡°The leadership of the Sword Party, that¡¯s what those in the know are calling the hunters who want a fight, are having a big meeting or something. There¡¯s a lot of buzz going around about it. They¡¯ve invited a lot of fence sitters, have something that they think will sway those that aren¡¯t sure where to stand. If they¡¯re right, there¡¯s no stopping the charging titan. But if we stop them, they won¡¯t have a leg to stand on, let alone swords to swing.¡±

    ¡°Where will we find our prey?¡± Kierra asks, the rest of us too shocked for conversation.

    ¡°At a warehouse with connections to the Wolves, this coming Saintsday. Before you ask how I know, I was given an invitation. They¡¯ve invited plenty of people from the Shield Party, those of us who can see what¡¯s coming and are trying to cover our asses. Guess they don¡¯t think the group angling for peace will resort to violence.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s got them so confident?¡± I finally ask.

    ¡°That they¡¯re keeping that close to their chest. Could be something small, like a note of support from the crown. Could be something big. My money is firepower, knowing those idiots. Maybe they¡¯ve got some named hunters with good reputations to back them. Or maybe a knight order is backing them. Could be anything. Doesn¡¯t matter. Whatever they have, it won¡¯t be enough.¡±

    ¡°You seem pretty sure about that.¡±

    ¡°¡­your ladyship, I¡¯m from the north. I¡¯ve seen titan heads. Watched the northern knights train. I¡¯ve dedicated most of my life to the hunters. Will dedicate the rest of my life to them. But these fools don¡¯t know war. Not even the few that fight in the campaigns. They can quit, walk away. They don¡¯t know what it is to have winter in your blood. To watch those damn mountains swallow your kin, generation after generation, and still follow in the same bloody steps. Hunters are hardy folk, but Victorians are madmen. They don¡¯t stand a chance unless the saints themselves descend to protect them.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    He¡¯s right. Victorians are all crazy. The proof is right in front of me. ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried?¡± I ask. ¡°The hunters aren¡¯t going to be happy about you leading them to the slaughter, even if it is to save the rest.¡±

    ¡°No, they won¡¯t be. But I imagine once you¡¯re known throughout the kingdom as the strongest caster ever known, they¡¯ll come around.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    He scoffs at my disbelief. ¡°Come on. Word has gotten out about the March. Someone removed your head and you stood up. There are idiots out there that are saying you¡¯ve got a physical affinity your family made you hide as a secret weapon against the Grimoires. Ridiculous. I¡¯m no master caster but I¡¯ve been around magic for a long time. How the hell can you cast a spell without your head? That¡¯s not a physical affinity. That¡¯s not even a pure affinity.¡±

    He looks to Kierra and the elf dips her head in acknowledgment, smiling her bloodthirsty smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind of secret you¡¯re hiding your ladyship, but it¡¯s damn sure something this kingdom hasn¡¯t seen before and, as such, has no idea how to handle. If you¡¯re not a household name in the next five years, I¡¯ll put on a dress and take to whoring.¡±

    ¡°No need to subject innocent lonely hearts to such a sight,¡± Kierra says with a chuckle.

    ¡°Heh, you¡¯re right. Ah, since the business is out of the way, there is something I wanted to ask you. Do you know what¡¯s going on in the north? I know there was an event, something dangerous if the Swords think the north won¡¯t be able to march on the city, but none of my people have details. The Swords are using the uncertainty to their advantage. No matter how bad it is, a clear picture would help.¡±

    This is my fault. I wanted this meeting to be casual. I can hardly complain that the hunter is obliging my request, even if his casual way of addressing us is making me uncomfortable. I glance at Alana, as Victory is her concern. She dips her head. Guess she¡¯s taking a liking to this Slaid. ¡°We don¡¯t know more than that either, but we¡¯ve sent a messenger to the fort,¡± I say. ¡°We expect to hear back from them in a week. Sooner if they can send a bird.¡±

    ¡°Too long,¡± the hunter grunts. ¡°To make a difference with the guilds, I mean. Of course, my prayers are with the men of the north and the James family. Not that they need it. They won¡¯t even bat an eye at anything less than the Bleak Peaks falling on them. Saints, they might take that as a win. Ah, I should write down the location.¡±

    ¡°No need.¡± The moment he thought it, the succubi in the room undoubtedly stole it from his mind.

    [Of course, my summoner.]

    ¡°Ah, okay. Mind if I have another cup?¡±

    The hunter¡¯s cup is topped off and he savors his wine while asking the James sisters questions about their shared home. As they share stories about the knight orders, exasperating tales about the Beasts causing trouble outside of Victory¡¯s walls and the recent trophies of the Moons, I slip away, tugging on Kierra¡¯s wrist in a silent request for her to join me.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± I ask, the two of us watching the now jovial gathering from the privacy of a connecting hall.

    ¡°We are fortunate, hm? That such an obliging ally fell into our laps.¡±

    ¡°Too fortunate?¡±

    ¡°You have the pets to answer that question.¡±

    ¡°And if I don¡¯t want to rely on them?¡± Or have come to realize I shouldn¡¯t?

    A finger taps my forehead. ¡°Then rely on yourself. You are more than capable.¡± Her finger moves around the side of my head and taps the top of my ear. ¡°What did this tell you?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s calm.¡± Or he could be resigned.

    Her finger moves to my nose. ¡°And this?¡±

    ¡°That he¡¯s not afraid.¡± Or he¡¯s crazy.

    Her finger pokes my chest. ¡°And this?¡±

    ¡°That he¡¯s exactly what he seems¡­but all of this is too simple. Too easy.¡±

    She chuckles as she drags me toward her, laying my head on her chest. ¡°Predicting the future is beyond us all, even the pets. Tonight, fate has given us an advantage. No one can know what comes tomorrow. I have told you, dedia. Victories must be celebrated, otherwise you invite misfortune.¡±

    I don¡¯t think misfortune has to be invited. ¡°Do you think we¡¯re cursed?¡±

    ¡°Cursed? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got terrible luck, don¡¯t we? I mean, forget this mess. We¡¯re mixed up with dragons, for saints¡¯ sake.¡±

    I can feel her hum. ¡°Curse. Luck. You think too much. Everything is experience. What you make of your experiences is up to you.¡±

    Maybe.

    Or maybe there is a price to be paid for my blessings.

    ¡°Come.¡± The elf drags me with her, deeper into the house. ¡°The others will see to our guests. Let us find our new bed.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-88

    Unfortunately, we linger too long and miss our opportunity to sneak off. As we whisper to each other in the dark, our guests are shown out and Rey serves tea. All is calm until Alana raises her voice. ¡°What is your problem?¡±

    I turn my gaze back to the parlor and find my lovely knight staring daggers at her sister while Yulia refuses to meet the strong gaze, busying herself with a cup of Rey¡¯s horrible tea.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a problem.¡±

    ¡°Tell that to your face.¡±

    ¡°Really, Ally? There¡¯s no need to be juvenile.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s funny coming from the woman who won¡¯t even look at me.¡±

    Yulia lets out a deep, put upon sigh. ¡°Fine. If you must know, I feel a little redundant.¡±

    ¡°¡­nevermind. Forget I asked.¡±

    The snow bunny scoffs. ¡°If you are going to be callous, you shouldn¡¯t have asked.¡± Alana¡¯s frustration and desire to escape the situation is clearly written across her face, but the obvious reluctance doesn¡¯t stop her sister. ¡°The reason I came here was to advise you and your¡­betrothed on matters of peace. Yet, there is a distinct lack of peace to be found.¡±

    ¡°Oh, by the ancestors! We tried, Yulia. It was a nice thought but these people, warriors, brutes, idiots, don¡¯t respond to good intentions.¡±

    ¡°You tried? When was this? Before Lou chased her assassins into the street after they were already retreating? When you all effortlessly slaughtered the Teppin knights? I suppose it could have been during. Some say that death is the ultimate peace.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t start fights. We end them.¡±

    ¡°If there¡¯s anything these fights, and the March for that matter, has shown me, it¡¯s that Lou has the power to end a fight however she wants. She chose to kill everyone. And now, she¡¯s going to kill, no, assassinate several more people because it¡¯s the easy way.¡±

    I admit, hearing her criticisms is a little annoying but there¡¯s no need for me to defend myself. Alana is more than up to the task. With a sound between a hiss and a garbled curse, she jumps to her feet, hands balling in anger.

    ¡°There is nothing easy about swinging a sword. Something you of all people should know.¡± Yulia¡¯s shoulders tense, probably with shame, but Alana doesn¡¯t stop. ¡°Once again, someone else is making the hard decisions for you, to protect you, to protect everyone, and you dare speak badly about her? Have you forgotten that these people tried to kill us first? Have you already forgotten what it was like to hold Allen tight while men with knives stalked the halls?¡±

    Yulia frowns but the expression smoothens out in the span of a blink. ¡°If peace were easy, everyone would do it. Few people have the capacity to enforce it. You all are those people, but peace clearly isn¡¯t what you want. I understand, of course. One becomes accustomed to the mentality of war growing up in the north. I just question my presence if you were willing to pick up your swords so easily.¡±

    Alana laughs, though there is little humor in the sound. ¡°I¡¯ve questioned your presence from the beginning. Don¡¯t blame us, Yulia. You invited yourself. Your entire plan to make nice with the south was nobody¡¯s ambition but yours. You should be thanking us for humoring and protecting you, but instead, you¡¯re pouting because things didn¡¯t go the way you wanted. As always. This is why¡ª¡±

    She cuts off suddenly, a hand rising to pinch the bridge of her nose as she lets out an explosive sigh. A sure sign of someone trying to calm themselves down and a perfect moment for Yulia to walk away.

    Unfortunately, Yulia is a James. She comes off as mild-mannered and agreeable, but she has a stubborn streak. One that chooses to make itself known at terrible times. I wince internally as Yulia pops to her feet. One would think that, given she survived a campaign, she would have a stronger sense of self-preservation.

    ¡°Oh, yes. My being disappointed or otherwise upset is always a personal affront to you. This is just what you wanted, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯re enjoying the fact that I¡¯ve failed.¡±

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    ¡°Enjoying? You¡¯re making the same mistake you always do. The one where you assume everything is about you.¡±

    ¡°You asked!¡±

    ¡°Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have. If you feel so bad about it, why don¡¯t you go home?¡±

    Yulia scowls and, this time, she doesn¡¯t bother to hide her expression. ¡°Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t considered it. I realized I might be out of my depth on the road, but I stayed. I stayed because¡ª¡±

    ¡°Because you didn¡¯t have any other option?¡±

    ¡°Because I thought I could help. I wanted to help. I still think I have something to offer, as the only one with a proper understanding of the kind of assets necessary to placate Father and the March. But if you disagree¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then what? Are you going to walk out the front door? No, wait.¡± Alana¡¯s massaging fingers move to the sides of her head. ¡°Fucking ancestors. I don¡¯t want you to leave and get yourself killed. I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m getting angry. This is stupid.¡±

    Yulia does a double-take, mouth gaping slightly. Once again, Alana proves their relation. The longer she stares at Yulia with those big, blue eyes of hers, the more the elder James daughter softens.

    ¡°I may have¡­lost my temper. A little,¡± the snow bunny finally admits in a soft voice. She forcefully gathers herself, straightening up and relaxing her tense shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s¡­disappointing. Realizing one is worthless.¡±

    ¡°Oh, for¡­you¡¯re not worthless.¡±

    Ah. This took a strange turn.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t I? What have I done on this trip besides take advantage of your generosity? I¡¯m attending parties while my husband and family grapple with ancestors know what. I¡­excuse me.¡±

    Her fa?ade crumples as the snow bunny rushes out of the room, making a spectacle of herself. She doesn¡¯t give me or Kierra so much as a glance as she just short of runs away, disappearing deeper into the house. Alana watches her go with disbelief while slowly approaching us.

    ¡°That was¡­¡± My voice stalls as I struggle to find the right words. The first things that come to mind feel too insulting.

    ¡°She called herself worthless,¡± my future wife mutters. ¡°Yulia called herself worthless.¡±

    Kierra hums. ¡°Emotions are as volatile as a storm.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m worried about her.¡±

    My first instinct is to laugh off the concern. What is there to be worried about? So, Yulia is feeling a little down. Her ideals might have crashed and burned but she¡¯s whole and healthy. No danger got within an arm¡¯s reach of her or her son. She¡¯s eating well, drinking well, and sleeping well. Compared to that, failure is nothing. A little disappointment never hurt anyone. I would know. My life was nothing but disappointment before I met that glossy elemental.

    But Alana¡¯s worry makes me think about the situation more deeply. To try and imagine everything from Yulia¡¯s perspective. She¡¯s not suited for the north, is she? Her warm nature that makes her so popular amongst the cold warriors also makes her home suffocating. I¡¯m not blind to how excited she¡¯s been while traveling. Maybe, just maybe, despite being born with that face of hers and being catered to, she hasn¡¯t had the easiest life.

    She¡¯s also weak. Not by the capital¡¯s standards. Yulia could probably take on a palace full of dainty court ladies. But by Victory¡¯s standards, she¡¯s as soft as freshly baked bread, both in mind and body. She doesn¡¯t have the heart for war. Maybe not for blood or violence.

    Someone like that was just targeted by assassins. Spent most of a night wondering if men with dark cloth covering their faces would kick down the door to murder her and her son. She had to watch several men be slaughtered. Heard them scream, cry, and beg for mercy. Had to walk past their corpses to reach the front door.

    Ah.

    I may have been a little insensitive.

    ¡°Maybe it would be best if she went home,¡± I say slowly. Quest hasn¡¯t been kind to her delicate sensibilities.

    Alana runs a frustrated hand through her hair. ¡°She shouldn¡¯t have come in the first place but that¡¯s the last thing she probably wants to hear. The Stars that were supposed to be her escorts should arrive in the city soon. They can take her back to Victory. Until then, just¡­¡± She sighs. ¡°Humor her. Please.¡±

    ¡°Humor her? Sweetie, we¡¯re way beyond pretending to negotiate.¡± If we follow up on the information that Slaid gives us, we¡¯re just beating the guilds into submission.

    ¡°Yulia just wants to be seen and heard. That¡¯s all she ever¡ª¡± I watch as she swallows her bitter feelings. She really is trying to make things better with her sister, isn¡¯t she? ¡°She wants to change people¡¯s opinion of the north, but we¡¯ve been building our bad reputation for five centuries. Even she has to realize that one visit, in the middle of a crisis no less, isn¡¯t going to change that. What she wants is a stage. When all the real work is done, let her waltz in with her pretty smile, soothe feelings, and be fawned over. That¡¯s what she¡¯s good at.¡±

    ¡­she is trying, right?

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I tell her as I brush her cheek with a fingertip. I can¡¯t help but smile as she tries to lean into the touch. ¡°This will all be over soon. Once we take care of these Sword people, we¡¯ll reasonably rob the guilds and send Yulia home with the spoils before she gets herself into trouble. Then we can focus on us.¡±

    ¡°Saints willing,¡± she mutters. ¡°I¡¯m ready for things to settle down. The one good thing about the campaigns is that they only happen once a year. Victory is rather tame outside of that.¡±

    I guess the duels, bloodshed, and crazy traditions are tame.

    Kierra chuckles and pulls Alana toward her, trapping us both in her embrace. ¡°My foolish clan,¡± she whispers into our hair. ¡°You are Atainna now. Trouble is normal.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-89

    ¡°G-g-g-good¡ª¡±

    I smile with a mix of amusement and nostalgia as the youngest Teppin makes a spectacle of herself in the doorway of our stolen bedroom while trying to greet us. I have a feeling that she¡¯s a nervous girl by nature. Being in the same room as the women that slaughtered her family¡¯s knights and humiliated said family certainly can¡¯t help that disposition, but I think what¡¯s rendered her incapable speech is our state of dress. Or undress, as it were.

    No one in my household is particularly shy. When it comes to our sleeping habits, we lean toward less rather than more. Poor Leeona was elected to fetch us for breakfast, from what I can smell, and her simple task is being complicated by an eyeful of scandalous sights. Alana is the most conservative and her nightgown is plenty provocative. The young woman doesn¡¯t know where to look but doesn¡¯t dare run from the uncomfortable situation and the duties foisted onto her by my succubus.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± I say for her while sitting up. Leeona squeaks like a startled mouse as the blanket around me falls, exposing me from the waist up. I ignore her reaction as I climb over Alana to escape the bed.

    This reminds me of when I took Kierra to the Tome estate in the capital. We flustered another servant then, a woman sent to fetch us for breakfast just like the poor girl shaking like a rabbit before a room full of wolves, though they are flustered in entirely different ways. That woman did a lot more staring while Leeona¡¯s eyes are covered by her hands. I doubt they¡¯re going to move anytime soon.

    ¡°I assume you came to get us for breakfast.¡±

    ¡°Ah, uh, y-yes. Er, my lady!¡±

    No wonder Lord Teppin is so wary of jeopardizing his title. His family is woefully incapable of surviving as anything other than pampered nobility. Her survival rests on playing the part of a competent servant and this is the best she can manage. Ah, well. She¡¯s lucky I¡¯m doing this out of a twisted sense of humor rather than a truly vengeful spirit.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been notified.¡± I chuckle when she doesn¡¯t move. ¡°That means you can go now.¡±

    ¡°O-oh! Right. Pardon me.¡± She yelps as her first attempt to back out of the room is foiled when she stumbles into the doorway. I almost shout for her to open her eyes after she fails the second time, but she manages on her third try, almost tripping over her own feet as she retreats into the hall.

    ¡°At least someone in the Teppin family is enjoying our occupation,¡± I snicker as I search for something to wear. On a hunch, I pull open a dresser drawer and am not at all surprised to find my own clothes inside. Life with succubi.

    ¡°Or you just traumatized her,¡± Alana grumbles into a pillow, showing no intention of getting up besides her groggy response.

    ¡°Honey, please. You¡¯ve seen me without a shirt.¡± Her seeing me disrobed should be considered charity. Practically a saintly act.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it makes up for you barging into her home and murdering men she might have known for years.¡±

    I pause in pulling up a pair of pants to look at her over my shoulder, eyes narrowed. If it were anyone else, I¡¯d think that was disapproval in her voice. Perhaps she does disapprove. Alana may understand the necessity of violence and death, but she¡¯s never been a fan of it.

    ¡°Imagine how much worse she¡¯d feel if she had to serve an ugly bastard and she walked in on him bare-chested.¡±

    ¡°Small mercies,¡± Alana grumbles, still without raising her head.

    ¡°The sight of you is worth a thousand tragedies, my love,¡± Kierra calls out, eyes half-lidded with sleep. My eyes are glued to her as she stretches, languid as a cat waking from a nap in the sun. The glimmer of her platinum hair and the flexing of her taut muscles is mesmerizing. I¡¯m only released from her spell when she turns to drop sleepy kisses on Talia¡¯s face, pulling the blanket up to cover them.

    ¡°Thanks. Don¡¯t suppose anyone wants to join me for breakfast?¡± A groan and kissing noises are their responses. ¡°Alright.¡±

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    Despite my lovers deciding to make it a late morning, I¡¯m not alone at the Teppin¡¯s dining table. Rey is busying herself setting the table while Leeona tries to make herself inconspicuous while standing in the corner, shuffling as she waits to be called on. Suppose she¡¯s not used to being on her feet.

    The lord of the house is also present, once again in his not-so-fetching dress as he cleans the windows of the rooms with a rag. Something that is still funny but is becoming less amusing by the moment. There¡¯s a point of saturation where another man¡¯s humiliation is nothing more than sad.

    ¡°Rey.¡± I crook my finger at the older sister after she sets down a plate of sausage. Her lips twist with distaste but she obeys the silent command, coming to stand by my side.

    ¡°Yes, my lady?¡±

    A little too sarcastic but she gets points for a smooth delivery. ¡°You were involved with the hunters?¡±

    ¡°Involved. Strong word for some basic training.¡± She huffs when she notices the demand for more in my gaze. ¡°In Quest, there¡¯s only two options if you want to be somebody. The guilds or the Hall. As I don¡¯t have the required snobbery to be an acolyte, that leaves me with being a hunter.¡±

    ¡°Why? You¡¯re the daughter of a middling noble.¡± Lord Teppin governs an important city. Not enough status to do whatever she wants but she¡¯s set as long as she stays in Quest. Could live however she wants without getting so much as a callus on her delicate, noble palms.

    ¡°So what are you saying? A girl with a title can¡¯t do anything besides throw tea parties and run a cute store with a cat sign over the door?¡±

    ¡°¡­that was very specific.¡±

    My disbelief snaps Rey back to her senses. Her face falls as she realizes she just yelled at the woman who holds the lives of her whole family in her hands. ¡°Uh, sorry.¡±

    ¡°Care to explain?¡±

    ¡°Would you even care?¡±

    ¡°Very little, but I have nothing better to do while I eat.¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t even care if this gets me killed. You¡¯re a fucking bitch.¡±

    There it is again, that unrepentant audacity. Or maybe she¡¯s just too tired to care. Either way, I¡¯m incredibly amused. It¡¯s kind of cute. Like a precocious child or a brave bird harassing a baker for his bread. A little thing standing up to something it has no chance against.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already told you I¡¯m not going to kill you. My solution is much more effective. I imagine Slaid is spreading the tale of the cross-dressing lord and his mighty duster this very moment.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I bet. Thanks for making my father the laughingstock of the city and ruining our reputation forever.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re wel¡ª¡±

    My words are interrupted by a powerful force that shakes the walls of the house. I jump to my feet and pull Rey toward me as I strain my senses, trying to discern the source of the chaos, ignoring the plates shattering as they fall to the floor and the screech of Leeona¡¯s screams as she crouches in a corner. There¡¯s nothing to find and after a couple of heartbeats, the shaking stops.

    Once I¡¯m sure everything¡¯s stopped rattling and nothing¡¯s about to attack us, I shove Rey in the direction of her sister. ¡°See to her,¡± I say dismissively while mentally summoning my succubi. They step into the dining room a moment later. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°A tremor, Lou,¡± Geneva responds. ¡°I can smell fire and fear on the air.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± {There is a significant amount of distress coming from the city.}

    ¡°What in saints¡¯ damnation is going on?¡± Rey roars while holding her sister.

    ¡°Nothing you need to be concerned about.¡± The question is, is it something I need to learn about? Geneva says she smells fire. I¡¯d bet Lord Teppin¡¯s estate that means an explosion. And what are the chances that a giant explosion, if we felt the effects of it in a house at the edge of the city than it has to be giant, has nothing to do with me and the impending war I¡¯m in the middle of? Unlikely.

    [Incredibly unlikely, my summoner.]

    ¡°Bell, help the others.¡± I can hear my lovers rushing about, no doubt startled by the shaking walls.

    ¡°Hey! Are you just going to ignore us?¡± my outspoken servants yells as the imp sprints away.

    I wave off her concern. ¡°Relax. Whatever¡¯s happening is happening far away from here. You¡¯ll be fine while shining vases or whatever else you can find to occupy yourselves while we investigate.¡±

    ¡°You fucking¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lou!¡± Alana shouts as she bursts into the room, Kierra and Talia trailing behind her at a much more sedate pace, Bell riding on my wife¡¯s shoulders. To my surprise, Alana isn¡¯t wearing her armor though she is carrying her sword. ¡°I¡¯ll keep watch on the estate.¡±

    Ah. Can¡¯t believe I forgot. Someone needs to mind our servants and make sure they don¡¯t run away. It slipped my mind because I couldn¡¯t imagine them having the guts to try. Perhaps Rey might take the chance, but she¡¯d have an Abyss of a time carrying her sister that is still shaking.

    I suppose her father could help. I wonder if he¡¯d take the time to change out of his dress before running, haha.

    ¡°Bell, you stay here.¡±

    ¡°You too, lily.¡± Kierra nuzzles Talia before guiding her to stand next to Alana. An expected reaction. Flowers aren¡¯t taken to sites of possible explosions.

    [The carriage is ready.]

    What? How? Did the horses harness themselves?

    [Close enough.]

    ¡­I should stop asking.

    A strong hand caresses my shoulder before grabbing me by the neck and gently urging me toward the door. I can practically feel Kierra¡¯s excitement as we set out in search of whatever new problem has raised its head.

    ¡°Did I not tell you, dedia? Trouble will always find us.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand why that makes you so happy.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-90

    The roads are a mess as we ride toward the source of fire and fear. The complications are undoubtedly because we are going in the opposite direction of the heavy traffic, who are unilaterally moving away from the problem. The sight reminds me of farmers starting fires to smoke out vermin, rats and snakes fleeing from the promise of death taking the shape of a column of dark smoke.

    Suddenly, we¡¯re all thrown aside as the carriage makes a sharp turn. I don¡¯t have the chance to question the crazy maneuver before an image is sent to my mind of an accident blocking the road. ¡°We have to walk the rest of the way,¡± I tell Kierra who is unperturbed. Eyes practically gleaming with excitement, she throws open the door and jumps into the chaos.

    ¡°Leave the carriage,¡± I tell Geneva as I step onto the road. My personal ride is worth quite a bit, but I¡¯m not worried about anyone taking it. It¡¯d be child¡¯s play to track it down. And as for someone vandalizing it, well. It¡¯d be easy to track any perpetrators down as well and I¡¯d be reimbursed for any damage, one way or another. It¡¯s more important that I have the succubus with me in case an investigation is required.

    The scene of the incident is just as chaotic as the roads leading to it. Near the half-collapsed and blackened remains of a building, there are three distinct crowds. Along the outskirts of the wreckage are the curious, the dubious, and the otherwise disturbed. Those attracted to the macabre sight, clucking and whispering to one another like bothered hens as they gape at the destruction. They¡¯re a strange sight, standing in a loose flock, most holding handkerchiefs up to their noses in a futile effort to combat the bad air. Amongst them are several hunters, identifiable from the weapons they carry.

    Holding them back is the second group, the city guards. They stand with their backs to the mess, holding back the first group with stern words and outstretched arms. They try to present as strong but their facade cracks in several places as the enforcers of the king¡¯s law break the ranks of the crescent holding back the crowd to gossip, both with each other and some of the hunters they¡¯re meant to be keeping away.

    The last group is the only one of relevance. They are the smallest but the most conspicuous, gathered right in front of the wreckage. They¡¯re also armed but there is a difference in the quality of the weapons. There¡¯s also a distinct difference in age. All but one of the six standing in front of the smoking wreck are older men, their hair graying or otherwise lacking with stern wrinkles emphasized by their shared frowns.

    It¡¯s obvious that the group of six are in control so I¡¯ll have to talk to them eventually, but we start by moving amongst the largest group. Thankfully, the presence of the guards has kept the mob contained and their voices at the level of whispers. My hearing is impressive but it¡¯s impossible to pick up the buzzing of insects beneath a beast¡¯s roar. As it is, I, and I imagine those with me, have no trouble distinguishing the different conversations happening around us.

    ¡°The whole city is going to the Abyss¡­¡±

    ¡°Was it a store?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they did a good deal on camping kits. Why would someone want to attack that place?¡±

    ¡°A hunter, you mean. They¡¯re the only ones throwing around this kind of magic.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re forgetting about the Hall.¡±

    ¡°As if. Those bastards only look down on us from their rock.¡±

    ¡°I heard it wasn¡¯t a caster. I heard it was alchemy.¡±

    ¡°Like bombs? Damn, what are the guards doing?¡±

    ¡°Those shiny pigs are useless.¡±

    ¡°The hunters then. Don¡¯t they keep an eye on the alchemists?¡±

    ¡°Oh, blessed saints, there were people in the building.¡±

    ¡°How long are the roads going to be closed?¡±

    ¡°Where is that useless lord? Shouldn¡¯t he be here?¡±

    ¡°Who would want to bomb a random store?¡±

    ¡°Not a random store. One For All ran this place. Kept things affordable for their hunters.¡±

    ¡°Someone attacked a One For All store? Are the guilds at each other¡¯s throats now?¡±

    ¡°No, this has got to be those crazy bastards from the north. All of them are insane, you know.¡±

    ¡°Oh, definitely. My mother told me that they bathe in snow. Just big tubs of the stuff.¡±

    ¡°I heard they¡¯re all beast fuckers and they¡¯re all horribly disfigured. Dog heads, goat feet, and worse. That¡¯s why they never leave their fort.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re full of it. There are plenty of Victorians in the city and they¡¯re no uglier than you. How else could their people get away with something like this?¡±

    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t need an agent. They¡¯ve got that insane noblewoman to do their dirty work.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of her. The Book family. No, it was Tome. Yeah, that sounds right.¡±

    ¡°I heard she¡¯s so crazy, even the Hall wants nothing to do with her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised. A woman marrying another woman. If that¡¯s not a sign of madness, I don¡¯t know what is. Who knows what else she gets up to.¡±

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    ¡°I heard her eyes are purple. People don¡¯t have purple eyes.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Could be she¡¯s not even human. Could be some shapeshifting manabeast, possibly from the elven continent. All the other races hate us. Could be this is a plot weaken us before a foreign army invades.¡±

    ¡°Could be this, could be that. Could be you¡¯re talking out of your ass, haha!¡±

    ¡°A little early in the day for it, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°Shaddup!¡±

    ¡°Hey, isn¡¯t that her? That noblewoman?¡±

    ¡°Purple eyes, purple hair. Fuck, it is, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Eh, I wouldn¡¯t say her hair is purple. More purply-black?¡±

    ¡°Is that the elf?¡±

    ¡°See! A foreign plot!¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯d do her.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit. Is she here to launch another attack?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sticking around to find out!¡±

    Our eavesdropping becomes difficult as more and more of the crowd drop their conversations to stare at us. The mood is overwhelmingly negative, the many gazes filled with fear, anger, and suspicion. Admittedly uncomfortable. I¡¯m not threatened by their disapproval, I doubt all these people working together could cut one of my nails, but that doesn¡¯t mean I like being looked at like I¡¯m going to slaughter and devour them, including their bones.

    Of course, my companions are completely immune to the hostility. Geneva is unfazed as she moves through the crowd, a pleasant smile fixed to her face and her tail swaying slowly. Kierra, the deviant, revels in the attention, strutting through the crowd and giving them more reason to stare.

    As we approach the ring of city guards, the two men closest to us look at one another before stepping aside. I wonder why. Is it because they heard of what¡¯s become of their lord? Easy to step aside when no one¡¯s going to hold you accountable.

    Maybe they think we¡¯re behind this attack too and the burned wreck behind them has them rethinking their oaths. Or perhaps the entire guard is reeling from the injuries inflicted on some of their number by Alana and Bell. Many of their members were at the lord¡¯s estate. My knight didn¡¯t chase those that chose to flee like a certain savage elf, but plenty were injured before they understood how outclassed they were.

    Either way, I¡¯m glad a possible annoyance has decided to take care of itself. The group of six don¡¯t look like they¡¯ll be nearly as agreeable. Their desire for us to disappear is so strong, I swear I can feel it, a wall of thick air that pushes at us. Strong enough to crush someone weaker, but I can walk through actual walls now. Some disapproval isn¡¯t enough to make me blink, let alone make me pause.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± I call energetically, forcing some jovial air into the tense space. ¡°Shame what happened. What did happen here?¡±

    ¡°You¡ª" A man as big as a bear and just as hairy, though that hair is admittedly well-groomed, takes a step toward me, big nostrils flaring, but before he can make the worst mistake of his life, the man beside him grabs him by the shoulder. They stare at one another until the large man takes back his aggressive step.

    Surprisingly, it¡¯s the youngest of their number that talks, features tense as he struggles to keep his expression blank. ¡°Good evening, Lady Tome.¡± I squint as my attention turns to him. I swear, there¡¯s something familiar about him. Have we met before? It¡¯s entirely possible. My memory isn¡¯t the best when it comes to men¡¯s faces, almost as bad as it is with their names. ¡°I apologize for disturbing your morning.¡±

    ¡°Why are you apologizing? Unless you¡¯re the one that started a spontaneous bonfire.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me, no, but this is a guild matter. As guildmasters, we are responsible for maintaining order amongst our ranks. Clearly, we¡¯ve failed.¡±

    ¡°You? A guildmaster?¡±

    The younger man, only young when compared to the men around him as he¡¯s undoubtedly older than me by a decade at the least, straightens up. His expression betrays his offense for a brief moment before it¡¯s gone. ¡°After Guildmaster Emeritus¡¯¡­abrupt departure, an interim guildmaster was appointed until more lengthy processes can be completed.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± So, he¡¯s the replacement for a master caster. Doesn¡¯t look like much. ¡°You didn¡¯t introduce yourself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no one of import,¡± he says dismissively. ¡°And this is no matter for your concern.¡±

    ¡°I think someone razing a building in the middle of the city is everyone¡¯s concern. I could feel the blast all the way at the lord¡¯s estate.¡±

    ¡°This is not enough destruction for what we felt,¡± Kierra remarks. She tries to get a closer look at the building¡¯s remains but two of the men step in her way, their tense postures making it clear that if she keeps walking, they¡¯ll stop her. Or try, the fools.

    ¡°Again, this isn¡¯t your concern.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but it is. You see, my wife is horribly curious. If she doesn¡¯t get an answer to her question, she¡¯ll be bothered by it for the rest of the day. And that means I¡¯ll be bothered for the rest of the day. Understand?¡±

    The man who doesn¡¯t want to share his name is unamused by my reasoning. Unfortunately for him, I¡¯m unaffected by his glare. His dark gaze flicks to Kierra who is playfully raising and lowering her foot toward the two men blocking her, who are both visibly becoming more frustrated by the moment, and he sighs. ¡°This was no mere store. It was a storehouse. The basements contained a surplus of weapons, armor, potions, and alchemical ingredients.¡±

    ¡°All destroyed by the blast,¡± another man asks before spitting to the side in distaste. ¡°Someone¡¯s going to pay for this. In gold andblood.¡±

    ¡°You said blast, not spell. Was it a bomb?¡±

    ¡°That really is none of your concern,¡± the interim guildmaster snipes. ¡°I¡¯ve done you the courtesy of answering your question. I would appreciate it if you would do me one in turn and leave. Your presence isn¡¯t making our jobs easier.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    He peers at me with suspicion, not trusting my easy acceptance. But what can he do? I¡¯m doing exactly as he wants. ¡°¡­thank you, your ladyship.¡±

    My response is a wave over my shoulder as I walk away, Kierra and Geneva following me. Once we are hidden in a thin alley behind the crowd of onlookers, I turn to my succubus. ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°All six men were wearing artifacts to block mana intrusion and managing their thoughts. I have a new, crude recipe for stewed chicken, if you would like to try it.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?

    ¡°Not at all, my summoner. This is not a trick or petty revenge. The artifacts aren¡¯t powerful, but it would be impossible to search their minds without alerting them that I¡¯m doing so. That would have gone against previous orders.¡±

    Those things are supposed to be rare.

    ¡°Are they? Or has a shortage amongst the public perpetuated that idea? Create the circumstances and people will make up their own lies and there is no harder lie to break than a self-perpetuated one.¡±

    I gape at the succubus. ¡°Are you suggesting¡­that the guilds of Quest have a secret stash of mental affinity stones?¡±

    Kierra hums. ¡°It makes sense. If Quest was originally an army fighting the worst beasts your kingdom had to offer, they would not want to share valuable resources with a fledgling king they owed little, if any, allegiance too. If the first hunters discovered a deposit of magical stones, they would ensure said power went to their comrades and subordinates. That would require secrecy.¡±

    ¡°If they are hiding a stash of powerful artifacts, who knows what else they are hiding,¡± Geneva says, her tail swinging faster. ¡°Things that would be discovered with Victory rummaging through their lives to collect a large debt.¡±

    ¡°A good reason for them to refuse to honor the March,¡± Kierra adds with a chuckle.

    ¡­fuck.

    There¡¯s no way this is going to end peacefully, is there?

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-91

    Before our imaginations get away from us, I bring my treasure-hungry elf and conspiracy-loving succubus back on track. Namely, figuring out what happened here and if it relates to us or the March. Unearthing any secret treasures or storehouses hidden by the guilds for centuries can wait.

    For once, we can¡¯t brute force this problem. Possible guildmasters are guarding the site of the explosion closely. Incredibly so. That means no details of their investigation are going to be overhead by targets that would be easier to interrogate. We could wait for them to finish and leave, but I¡¯m concerned that they¡¯ll be cautious enough to destroy any evidence once they¡¯re done with their investigations. They were cautious enough to prepare for my succubi after all, with no knowledge that I¡¯d appear.

    No, if we want to know what happened here, we¡¯re going to have to get past them.

    ¡°It¡¯s not as simple as walking past them,¡± Geneva explains as we bow our heads to scheme together. ¡°If they are prepared for my mental abilities, I assume they are prepared for shapeshifters as well.¡±

    I nod absently. She¡¯s good but it¡¯s a lot harder to attack a prepared enemy.

    ¡°I¡¯m confident in avoiding their gazes and moving quietly. But if they have ways of detecting me besides their mundane senses¡­¡±

    ¡°If we prepare for what they could possibly have done, we will get nowhere,¡± Kierra says with a huff. ¡°It is possible they are the greatest casters in the world disguised as lowly hunters. It is possible they have an artifact that can track you to the edges of this kingdom. It is possible they have contracted an elemental with your same abilities. We throw our best at them. If they are prepared, we shatter their preparations.¡±

    An aggressive approach as usual, but, also as usual, she has a point. We could question what they are and aren¡¯t prepared for all day but it doesn¡¯t change what we can do. Perhaps if we had more time, I¡¯d take a more cautious approach but the guildmasters can finish at any moment. ¡°Alright. Then, the plan is for Geneva to slip past them, investigate the wreck, and slip away, hopefully without being noticed.¡±

    ¡°You need to be small and fast,¡± Kierra suggests.

    ¡°Just like you, my summoner, there is a limit to how much I can compress myself. However, I have a suitable form for the task.¡±

    I¡¯m forced to avert my eyes as Geneva begins transforming, the wet sounds of twisting flesh and the crunch of shattering bones making my stomach turn. Thankfully, it doesn¡¯t take long for her to finish. After a few minutes, my cute thrall is replaced with a cat-like creature tall enough that its nose is level with my thigh. Its pointed ears are abnormally large for its head and its tawny fur is spotted with splotches of gray and brown. Its paws are abnormally large and as Geneva paces, three tails as thin as a flower¡¯s stem moving erratically, her footfalls barely make even the slightest sound, even to my incredibly sensitive ears.

    As I stare at it, the cat fades from view. I can still make out its shape and track its twitching tails, though they appear as faint distortions of air rather than limbs. Everything but its bright green eyes disappears. Then Geneva closes her eyes and those disappear as well.

    ¡°You must share this form with me later,¡± Kierra says as she admires the creature we cannot see.

    ¡°What, don¡¯t you already have a form that can disappear at the drop of a hat?¡±

    ¡°I do, but it is not so small and the camouflage takes much longer to spread.¡±

    ¡­I was kidding.

    ¡°This is good, but a trained warrior will notice her.¡± Kierra runs a hand over Geneva¡¯s invisible back. ¡°If they are allowed to remain watchful.¡±

    ¡°We need a distraction.¡± I was already thinking the same. I¡¯m concerned they may have ways of detecting trespassers but I¡¯m confident that the tricky succubus knows how to avoid being caught. If the underground floors of the building are expansive enough to be used as a secret storehouse, Geneva will have no trouble disappearing but first she has to get past their initial vigilance. ¡°And I have an idea.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± This whole city is teetering on an edge. Everyone is tense and looking for a reason to lash out. And I¡¯m the villain they want to go after most of all. I think it should be easy to cause a little chaos if I lean into that reputation. ¡°Rolly?¡±

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    A yellowish-orange ball of light appears above my head as the lueorale makes herself known. She drops to my nose, the swirling mess of color that makes up her face making me dizzy until I look away. ¡°Hi, hi, hi! You called?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to play a little trick. This is what I need you to do.¡± Once she has her instructions, she races off, giggling like a mischievous child as she disappears over a building. As she flies off, I gesture to Kierra.

    ¡°Follow my lead.¡±

    ¡°How fun.¡±

    She follows me back into the thick of the crowd while Geneva slinks off, preparing to take advantage of whatever we do. Once we¡¯re deeply embedded in the crowd, I raise my voice. ¡°Can you believe this? They¡¯re doing our work for us.¡±

    Several gazes immediately turn to me. I put on my best sneer for their benefit but pretend I don¡¯t notice them as I turn to Kierra. ¡°Forget Victory¡¯s army. These people are already destroying themselves.¡±

    Kierra grins as she meets my gaze, also raising her voice to ensure the curious crowd hears every word she is saying. ¡°It is shameful spite, my love. The guilds would rather throw their coin purses into a river than honor their debts.¡±

    ¡°Which is stupid. I mean, don¡¯t they understand that they still lose? Except this way, they also piss off a bunch of crazy knights just itching for blood.¡±

    ¡°And they weaken themselves. Today, it is a store. What will it be tomorrow? A guild building? The walls surrounding the city?¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± A man, laborer by the looks of him, finally takes the bait and steps forward. ¡°What in the Abyss are you women talking about?¡±

    I make him wait, noting his rising frustration, before turning to him, channeling my worst memories of Junior as I look down at him. ¡°We are discussing the idiocy of the guilds. You do know this was a guild store, don¡¯t you?¡± Before he can open his mouth to respond, another man grabs his shoulder and nods to him. Unexpected confirmation from an uninvolved party and a peer, how lucky. Makes this much easier. ¡°Who else would have the audacity to torch a guild store besides another guild? Certainly not the guard.¡± I wave a dismissive hand in their direction and they don¡¯t bother to hide their upset reactions.

    ¡°You, for one,¡± a hunter says as she steps out of the crowd, flanked by two others. She passes a glare over the onlookers before facing me. ¡°Or saboteurs from the north. Attacking innocents like cowards to make us capitulate.¡±

    ¡°Or saboteurs from the north,¡± I mimic in my most annoying tone, channeling my inner child. From the offense on her face, I¡¯d say I did a good job. ¡°Do you hear yourself? People say a lot of things about the knights of Victory but they never use the words cowardly or subtle. And it wasn¡¯t me. My wife keeps me far too occupied at night to be traipsing around the city throwing fire about.¡± Kierra nods sagely beside me.

    ¡°Why should we believe you?¡± the lady hunter snaps.

    ¡°Because I haven¡¯t been arrested. There are, what? Two dozen guardsmen here? And I know there is at least one guildmaster, interim he may be, standing by the wreckage. If they thought I was involved, or if they had the slightest suspicion I could be, why am I not being detained?¡±

    The woman purses her lips, struggling to answer. There¡¯s an obvious one, of course. It isn¡¯t worth the casualties until they have undeniable proof of my involvement. However, if she says that, it would mean acknowledging that the hunters are afraid of me. I can¡¯t imagine anyone, even the Shields that are supposedly in favor of paying off the debt of the March, would be happy to do that. They¡¯re a prideful bunch.

    I smile as I realize my show has caught the attention of the men guarding the wreckage. Time to turn up the heat. ¡°No, this wasn¡¯t me. I¡¯d be a lousy debt collector if I went around destroying valuable merchandise. I¡¯m sure this was one of your precious guilds. Maybe taking advantage of the chaos to settle some old grudges?¡±

    ¡°I wonder what will be done in retaliation,¡± Kierra says, somehow infusing both dread and excitement into her tone.

    ¡°Exactly. If it¡¯s a building today, will it be two tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°This city will be nothing but ash in a week.¡±

    ¡°A week? Are you kidding? I was thinking more three days.¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± the woman hunter shouts as the crowd around us whispers anxiously. ¡°There isn¡¯t going to be any retaliation.¡±

    ¡°You can guarantee that, can you? I bet yesterday you would have guaranteed that no one was going to blow a building straight to the Abyss, but here we are. Maybe you haven¡¯t realized it, but this city¡¯s become a dangerous place. Assassins stalking the night, bombs going off in the middle of the day, the threat of war hanging over the city. No one and no place are safe. If I were you, all of you, I¡¯d take whatever I could carry and run. Who knows when¡ª"

    With perfect timing, a bone-shaking boom interrupts me. It¡¯s nothing but sound, a harmless distraction, but the crowd immediately panics. With the destruction right in front of them and the acrid smell of smoke still in the air, the people are driven to a panic. The air is filled with screams as the crowd turns into a herd of beasts stampeding away from the perceived danger.

    The hunters, including the woman who stepped forward to speak against me, try to calm them, or at the very least impose order on the panicked retreat, but it¡¯s a futile gesture. Powerful they may be, but they are the minority. They also aren¡¯t using force, making them powerless against the mass of bodies pushing against them with the force of a rapidly flowing river. Those who don¡¯t follow the current are swept aside.

    I don¡¯t fight, letting the anxious mob push me away from the wreckage. My job is done. I doubt I¡¯ve done myself any favors in regards to my reputation with the hunters but, given I plan on assassinating the leadership of the hunters that oppose the March, I¡¯m not concerned about it. Hopefully, my pet can do her job.

    The last thing we need is another surprise.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-92

    ¡°Lady Tome!¡±

    I swear softly and reflexively shut my eyes as a gust of wind blows my hair into my face. A moment later, I remember my ¡®films¡¯ and drop one to block the dust being thrown about. Then I look up.

    Above me is Mr. Interim, eyes glowing with channeled mana and the air beneath his feet visibly moving to support him as he looks down at us. Staring at him, I can¡¯t help but think of the last man to do so, that annoying bald bastard. Doesn¡¯t bold well for this new flying bastard. Saints¡¯ blessed asses, are all air casters this annoying?

    The people around us scatter, coughing and futilely trying to shield their eyes from the chaotic storm of dust driving them away. Mr. Interim lands in the empty space and the air around us settles down. He¡¯s still trying to keep his expression around control but the closer he gets, the more cracks I can see in his mask. ¡°What did you do?¡± he demands, voice full of accusation and frustration.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have more important things to do than harass me?¡± I sneer, not needing to play it up. Does he think I¡¯m going to cower like a frightened little girl after his oh so powerful display of magical might? I know someone didn¡¯t just bomb another building in the city, but he doesn¡¯t. Yet, he¡¯s bothering me.

    ¡°Others are investigating.¡± His dark eyes narrow. ¡°I find it suspicious that something like this happens just as you¡¯re making a spectacle of yourself. Also, your thrall has disappeared.¡± His eyes flick around, perhaps confirming his observation. ¡°Where is your creature?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not setting anything on fire. Beyond that, it¡¯s none of your business.¡±

    He takes what I think is meant to be a menacing step forward. To me, invading my personal space only makes it that much easier to strike him should the need arise. His glower is equally ineffectual. ¡°Please answer the question.¡±

    Amusement turns up my lips in a smirk. ¡°Don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°¡­do you know about the current state of the guilds?¡±

    ¡°I know a great many things. You¡¯re going to have to be more specific.¡±

    His glower loses its hostility but not its intensity, the man staring at me as if he believes his gaze can ferret out all my secrets given enough time. Thoroughly uninterested in a staring contest with him, I walk away. ¡°If you¡¯re going to waste my time¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± His exclamation is followed by a hiss of pain. I turn back around to find Mr. Interim holding one hand with the other, blood smeared across his palm.

    Kierra waves her knife, also bloody, at him. ¡°Correct me if I have misunderstood human customs, but I believe it is rude to grab a woman without her permission.¡±

    ¡°¡­it is,¡± the hunter forces out between grit teeth. He unclasps his hands and peers at his cut. I do the same and note with relief that it barely counts as a scratch. There are far too many innocents about to start a fight. Thankfully, my wife held back, the lovely barbarian. She really is trying. ¡°Forgive my lack of decorum. I was¡­excited.¡±

    ¡°Understandable. My Lou has that effect.¡¯

    Mr. Interim removes a hankerchief from his pocket, folding it several times before tying it over his wound. ¡°I was referring to the Swords and Shields,¡± he continues after he finishes tying the knot with his teeth.

    I briefly consider playing dumb but decide against it. If this is the start of the guilds, even one of them, making an effort, then I don¡¯t want to discourage them. Besides, he knows about my succubi and he¡¯s already suspicious. I doubt he¡¯ll believe I really know nothing.

    The only way that could possibly be is if I were completely incompetent and that¡¯s not a reputation I want to cultivate. ¡°You¡¯re referring in the split in ideology over the best way to settle the March. The Swords are the idiots that want to defy it and go to war with the north. The Shields the people with common sense who realize it¡¯s better for the whole kingdom if they surrender.¡±

    He nods. ¡°Precisely. At the moment, the Shields are gaining sway with the leadership of the guilds but the Swords have the hearts of the rank and file. I believe that this can be resolved peacefully so long as nothing aggravates the situation. The muscleheads only need a good excuse to turn into a mob and the old heads won¡¯t stand by if you burn down the city.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear.¡± It really is. ¡°Because I haven¡¯t done anything. This¡ª¡± I wave in the direction of the wreckage. ¡°¡ªwasn¡¯t me. And you won¡¯t get any trouble from me so long as you can deliver that peaceful solution.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s all I can ask. Unless you can convince Victory to settle for gold? Our advisers are convinced that we must surrender a piece of all our wealth, including land and property. That is not going over well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be perfectly satisfied with a few chests brimming with crowns but from what little I understand of this insane tradition, your advisers are right. It¡¯s supposed to hurt. You¡¯re meant to make sacrifices.¡±

    He looks at me strangely. ¡°Why are you enforcing a tradition you admit is insane?¡±

    ¡°People have done crazier things for love.¡± I shrug at his incredulous expression. ¡°Something you should keep in mind. I¡¯m not a Victorian and I¡¯m no one¡¯s agent. Alana James, the youngest daughter of the duke, is the one who was sent to collect your debt. She believes in this nonsense. I have nothing against the guilds. Saints, I¡¯m not even holding a grudge about you all kidnapping my friend. But, as her intended, I will support her with everything I have. Get in her way and I will remove you.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see. We knew the James¡¯ daughters had some influence on the negotiations but it is an important distinction to know we are negotiating with a Victorian rather than¡­an eccentric noblewoman.¡± How politely put. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Feel like I¡¯m repeating this a lot. ¡°I want this to end peacefully.¡±

    ¡°Saints willing.¡±

    As the silence between us stretches on, he resumes his staring. It¡¯s a little unnerving. ¡°Was there anything else?¡±

    ¡°Do you know a young man named Callan Atkinson?¡±

    Who?

    No, wait. I know that name. It¡¯s important, I think. Ah, damn it. It¡¯s right on the¡ªah! ¡°Mr. Self-Made!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s just something I do to help me remember certain people. I¡¯m terrible with names. Like him. Commoner, lives in the Grand Market with his family, apprentice of some kind. Smith. No, cobbler. Jeweler? Whatever, something like that.¡±

    ¡°What is your relationship with him?¡±

    ¡°You know, you ask a lot of questions.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re important.¡±

    I highly doubt Mr. Self-Made is important to anything. ¡°Alright, but I also have important questions to ask.¡±

    He nods. ¡°Very well. I will answer a question of yours in turn.¡±

    Excellent. ¡°I met him through my wife.¡± Mr. Interim glances at Kierra, who is amusing herself spinning her knife into the air and catching it by its tip. ¡°She is, or I suppose was, a foundation instructor at the Hall. Being the passionate and dedicated woman she is, she extended her lessons beyond the scope of her students, offering instruction to anyone interested, including those not enrolled at the Hall.¡±

    ¡°Generous.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s practically a saint.¡± I struggle to smother my own amusement as I hear Kierra¡¯s soft snickers. ¡°Anyway, Colton. Er, Callan, that was it. He was one of her projects. Unfortunately, he took a liking to my wife. He took a liking to my wife as more than a teacher. It led to some¡­conflict.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then, you¡¯re not his summoning mentor?¡±

    Close, but not quite. The suggestion is still offensive. ¡°You think I would personally instruct a bastard lusting after my wife in my family¡¯s most prized tradition? I didn¡¯t think the guilds had such a charitable opinion of my character. And that was another question.¡±

    He dips his head in acknowledgment. ¡°Ask your questions.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°¡­you want to waste a question on that? I¡¯m no one important.¡±

    Please. You¡¯re an interim guildmaster. I doubt he¡¯s the next Harvest Hero in disguise but he¡¯s not unimportant. Besides, the way he¡¯s going out of his way not to share it has me curious. ¡°Are you not going to honor our deal?¡±

    A deep sigh sags his shoulders. ¡°Lucas Macklemore.¡±

    Macklemore? ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have a relation by the name of Lane, would you?¡±

    The mention of Alyssa¡¯s lackey that made a spectacle of himself at my party cracks Lucas¡¯ stern fa?ade, the man wincing like someone punched him. ¡°My younger brother. I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re acquainted with him. He¡¯s not¡­¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not my normal kind of acquaintance for sure but he¡¯s a package deal with Alyssa Filagree¡ª¡± Well, maybe not anymore. ¡°¡ªand I like her very much.¡± Despite her tendency to vandalize my home.

    ¡°He¡¯s still following that instructor around?¡± he mutters to himself. Then, louder, ¡°Your second question?¡±

    ¡°Why are you asking about Callan?¡± The last I heard of him, he was still messing around with the summoning record for Vanity King. I can¡¯t see how that fool could get himself caught up in the middle of this mess.

    ¡°The Swords have recruited him and his people.¡± His what? ¡°There are those that think the answer to a summoner is another summoner.¡±

    But¡­he¡¯s not a summoner. He¡¯s an idiot! He¡¯s supposed to handle me? Solve me? ¡°Is that a joke?¡±

    ¡°This is hardly a time for jokes.¡±

    Sigh. It¡¯s really not a joke. At least he¡¯s doing what I wanted and spreading the art.

    ¡°Thank you for speaking with me. Have a pleasant rest of the day, Lady Tome. And I hope your creature knows how to keep its nose out of places it¡¯s not wanted.¡±

    Mr. Interim leaps into the air before I have the chance to respond, kicking up another cloud of dust and dirt. What is it with air casters and lacking manners when it comes to their magic? I shake my head as I continue my retreat from the area, my pace much calmer now that there is no longer a stampeding crowd to push me forward.

    Kierra falls in step beside me. ¡°You have an admirer,¡± she says playfully but there is a hint of¡­something in her tone.

    Whatever it is, the sentiment is ridiculous. ¡°The only thing that man admires is himself.¡± If he¡¯s anything like Aurelius. ¡°Or maybe a flawless account book.¡± He seems like the type.

    ¡°I¡¯d know if he were attracted to me.¡± With my senses, it¡¯d be obvious. But his heart rate didn¡¯t change, there was no sign in his eyes, and I couldn¡¯t smell a hint of arousal coming off him. ¡°You¡¯re imaging things.¡±

    ¡°There is more to attraction than the physical,¡± she says cryptically, her tone clearly communicating she¡¯s not budging.

    ¡°Uh-huh. Well, since we¡¯re out, we might as well pick up the others.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-93

    Thankfully, Kierra knows how to handle horses, swear that elf can do anything. We stop by the Golden Feathers. I wanted to speak with Marcella, but she isn¡¯t there when we arrive. I imagine she¡¯s busy acting on Slaid¡¯s information. Or getting back at the guilds for causing a ruckus in her hotel.

    Either way, it¡¯s an uneventful trip to collect the rest of my servants, Jac, and Allen. Then it¡¯s back to the Teppin estate. I forbid anyone from opening the shutters over the carriage¡¯s single window so none of them see the devastation we unleased commandeering the property. A precaution I mainly take for Allen¡¯s sake, and I appreciate the small effort as I watch the carefree way he stumble-runs through into the large house. He doesn¡¯t make it far before he¡¯s scooped up by his mother, the little boy giggling as she smothers him with love.

    The rest of the house is also nearby, apparently waiting for our return. Their anxiety is painted across their faces but one of them is particularly eager for answers. Jac¡¯s mouth opens as she prepares to ask a question, but she¡¯s usurped by Lord Teppin. Emboldened by Geneva¡¯s absence and unbothered by strangers ogling his hilarious appearance, he barks out his questions. ¡°What¡¯s happening? How is the city? Answer me!¡±

    Whatever empathy I might have for the lord as a man worried about the city he¡¯s meant to protect is squashed by the sound of Allen¡¯s soft whimper, the little boy scared by his loud voice. Hm. What would make this hurt the most?

    ¡°Earl. Anna.¡± The siblings step forward as I call them, eager to serve. I smile as I imagine the consequences of what I¡¯m about to do. ¡°This is Lord Teppin and his family. In exchange for sparing their lives, they have agreed to serve me for a time, but they lack instruction.¡±

    Earl is a mild-mannered and respectful boy. Even when he is forced to chastise someone or make a stand, he does so calmly, without even raising his voice. In the early days, before Geneva got her claws deep into him, I would call him shy.

    Anna also has a lot of control, especially for a girl her age. She needs it, given her beastly tendencies. She¡¯s learned to conduct herself with propriety befitting a noble¡¯s servant, even if most of her control comes from simply avoiding those she isn¡¯t familiar with.

    As soon as I finish speaking, the siblings¡¯ carefully nurtured control snaps, twin visages of disdain marring their features. Leeona flinches as Anna growls, her pets the only thing keeping the little monster from leaping at them. Lord Teppin¡¯s gaze moves, drawn by the sound, but it snaps to Earl as my young steward moves before him.

    ¡°Lacking instruction indeed,¡± Earl says while looking the lord up and down, tone filled with the dissatisfaction of a noble matriarch examining the pretty commoner her son is infatuated with. ¡°No regard for your uniform, as much poise as an ox, and no comprehension of a servant¡¯s role. This is how you repay someone that spares you? Disgraceful.¡±

    I don¡¯t blame the lord for not recognizing the danger he¡¯s in. Can¡¯t blame him for his reaction to Earl either. I anticipated it. Doesn¡¯t stop me from wincing as he growls, ¡°Get out of the way, boy.¡±

    Earl, perhaps undeservedly, slaps him.

    The whole room is taken aback, except for innocent Allen who¡¯s head swivels as he curiously looks for the thing responsible for the loud clap of a palm meeting flesh. I watch with slightly horrified amusement as the lord gapes at the stone-faced steward.

    Geneva is terrifying. No one with a working brain would ever have the courage to defy her. There¡¯s no shame in surrendering to her whims, it¡¯s just a matter of course.

    Earl is a boy. He looks it too, all round-face and wide-eyed. That¡¯s why I chose him. I could have reprimanded Lord Teppin, easily reminding him of his situation and why he¡¯s wearing a dress. No shame in that either, as I practically single-handedly annihilated his knights.

    But being brought low by a fresh-faced young man, someone that looks like he should be sweeping the steps of his family¡¯s store or running messages through the city? That has to hurt. And it must. The lord forgets himself, forgets that I can kill him and his family anytime, and starts to cast. His eyes are bright with the glow of channeled mana for a fraction of a second.

    Then Earl slaps him again. Harder.

    I wince as the second blow turns the lord¡¯s head and makes him stumble. The scent of blood reaches me a moment before I notice it dribbling from Lord Teppin¡¯s bleeding lip. Rey takes a step toward them, meaning to intervene, but her mother catches her shoulder and hauls the young woman backward, latching onto her to keep her from getting involved.

    ¡°To serve our lady is an honor,¡± Earl snaps. ¡°Though your service may be temporary¡ª¡± Blessed saints, I¡¯ve never heard someone make such a mundane word sound so despicable. I knew the siblings were especially loyal, it¡¯s why I anticipated a good show, but this is beyond that. Worrying¡­but also flattering. And strangely admirable. I¡¯m quite proud of my young steward and growing prouder with every passing moment. How far he¡¯s come, from a pitiful bandit to a confident man slapping middling nobles in their own homes. ¡°¡ªyou will strive with every ounce of your being to be worthy of this honor.¡±

    ¡°Who do you think you are?¡± the offended nobleman roars, though he keeps his magic to himself. A caster¡¯s greatest weakness is a martial fighter engaging them, leaving them no chance to throw a spell. Earl has already demonstrated he¡¯s quick enough to ¡°disrupt¡± the lord before he can build a spell worth the mana. Aside from that, the lord doesn¡¯t strike me as a brawler, and it seems he doesn¡¯t like his chances in a contest of strength.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°I am Earl, Lady Tome¡¯s steward. As a servant, my purpose is to assist her however I can. I have the honor of keeping her home. For now, this is my lady¡¯s home. That makes it, and you, my responsibilities. I do not fail in my responsibilities.¡±

    The room holds its breath as the audience waits to see if the lord will try his luck again. Earl makes for a deceptive target. It¡¯s easy to look down on him. Lord Teppin has over a head in height over him and a lot more weight. He could convince himself that he stands a chance.

    But, once more, the lord proves he¡¯s no fool. His body is stiff with reluctance and shackled rage as he straightens up, signaling his compliance as he struggles to control himself.

    Earl takes the submission with grace. ¡°Get yourself cleaned up and change into a fresh dress. Preferably something that fits you better. I¡¯ll see to your wardrobe later but there¡¯s nothing stopping you from making an effort now.¡±

    He doesn¡¯t even stop to question why the man is wearing a dress, haha. Saints, this boy is the best.

    ¡°The rest of you, back to your duties. I¡¯ll be speaking with you individually in time. Anna, with me. Let¡¯s find a room for the pets.¡±

    Anna¡¯s glare as she passes by the Teppin family is softened by the squeaking balls of golden fluff in her arms and riding her shoulders. Leeona still jumps with the little girl snaps her teeth at her, scurrying behind her mother that is still busying holding back her unruly daughter. They all let out audible sighs as the siblings leave the love. I bet the rest of the room feels the same way.

    The matriarch is quick to usher her daughters back to work, sparing her husband a quick glance before hurrying from the room. Guess she isn¡¯t as eager to test my steward. Or maybe it¡¯s her daughters she¡¯s protecting. I like Rey¡¯s, hm, spirit but I don¡¯t think Earl will take too kindly to her attitude.

    Lord Teppin remains where he is, rooted by his anger. The vein pulsing along the side of his head is the only physical indicator of his racing heart and turbulent emotion. I think the poor man might explode if he moves too fast.

    ¡°The city is fine,¡± I offer, taking pity on the man. He slowly looks over to me. ¡°The explosion was someone vandalizing a store owned by One For All. Brought down the building and caused a few casualties, but the damage was contained there.¡±

    ¡°¡­is that all you know?¡± he asks, heart rate slowing.

    ¡°For now. Hunters had already taken control of the scene when I arrived, and they weren¡¯t too keen on me investigating. Your city guards were there too. Looks like they take their cues from the guilds now.¡±

    ¡°The commander is a smart man. He knows how this city works.¡±

    ¡°Everyone, make yourselves comfortable,¡± I tell the petrified audience. ¡°Show¡¯s over.¡± I motion for Lord Teppin to follow me, not minding his slow gait. ¡°You can pour me a drink while I ask you some questions. Might answer some too, if you have good answers.¡±

    He isn¡¯t happy but he doesn¡¯t refuse, obeying my direction. I settle on one of the couches while Lord Teppin disappears into the kitchen. Surprisingly, Jac also follows, dropping down next to me.

    ¡°You really are mixed up in it,¡± she says after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

    ¡°This has nothing to do with you. You can leave the city tonight. Maybe go to Rosentheim, see the City of Flowers.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I should,¡± she muses. ¡°¡­or I could go back to the capital. Take care of, you know. Your father and the things that come with death.¡±

    Her words remind of things I¡¯d rather not think about. Like the preserved head hidden amongst the rest of our possessions.

    ¡°He, uh, his.¡± Jac stops to clear her throat, clearly as uncomfortable with the subject as I am. ¡°He should be buried, have a proper funeral. My bastard father should know his brother is dead, though I don¡¯t know how much he¡¯ll care. And the village will need to be tended to¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± I snap, unsure why her practical concern is so grating. I forcefully vent my frustration with a deep sigh. ¡°I know, but it¡¯ll have to wait.¡± I can¡¯t leave Quest on the verge of imploding.

    ¡°Let me take care of it for you,¡± Jac continues in a sympathetic voice. Being a wanted woman, it¡¯d be awkward for you to be anywhere near the capital. And I¡¯m not blind to how you¡¯ve been protecting me. I¡¯m a burden here. At least there, I can make myself useful.¡±

    I turn, gauging her intent from her expression. She¡¯s always been a doer. This, everything, especially that horrendous treatment at the palace, must be hard on her. Is this what she needs? Saints know I don¡¯t have a clue but I¡¯m willing to listen to her whims. She deserves that much. ¡°Won¡¯t that get in the way of you working for the Guiness Company?¡±

    She scoffs. ¡°I figured it would take a decade of work to accrue enough reputation and connections to convince the marquis to finance an expedition. Recent events have convinced me that working for you could be just as effective, if not more so. That, and you actually care if I¡¯m snatched off the road by a couple of immoral agents of the crown.¡±

    Her idea makes sense. Saints, it¡¯s more than sensible. It¡¯s great. Ideal. So why does it still not sit right with me?

    ¡°It should be me.¡± I¡¯m his daughter, dammit. I should be the one to handle these things. I never did a thing for the man while he was alive and now that¡¯s he¡¯s dead, this is my only chance to ever do anything for him. Have I been a terrible daughter? Is it even more terrible that a part of me agrees with Jac?

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Uncle would understand. He was nothing if not practical.¡±

    A strangled laugh escapes my throat. Yes, Father wasn¡¯t a sentimental man. All my overflowing feelings would have just made him uncomfortable. Except my thirst to punish those who¡¯ve wronged us. Loving, he was not but the man was vengeful.

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re right. Thanks, Jac. It¡¯d be a weight off my mind.¡±

    She squeezes my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. This is something I¡¯ve always wanted.¡±

    ¡°How could I forget?¡± Before setting her sights on unearthing an ancient family legacy and becoming a queen or some such, Jac¡¯s humble dream was to succeed her father as head of the family. Governing a territory is a dream come true. ¡°You¡¯ll have some help. Don¡¯t give me that look. I¡¯m leaving you in charge, just making sure you¡¯re taken care of.¡±

    I¡¯m sure a few of the succubi forced to leave the capital wouldn¡¯t mind settling down in a humble village. I won¡¯t let them anywhere near Jac, she¡¯d probably be wrapped around their fingers in a month, saints protect her, but they can support her from the shadows. Ease her into the responsibility.

    More importantly, they can keep her safe. Things are going to heat up here and with the king. I don¡¯t think highly enough of anyone to assume they won¡¯t target my family when they realize how much of a threat I truly am. Best to take precautions now.

    Our moment is interrupted by Lord Teppin entering the room holding a serving tray with a bottle of Herbanacle and a glass.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your business,¡± Jac says, giving my shoulder another squeeze before leaving the room, stepping around the irate lord whose frustration is still thick enough to create an air of tension around him.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-94

    Geneva hasn¡¯t returned by morning.

    If it were anyone else, truly anyone, I might bother being concerned. Hells, I would be worried for Kierra, despite how capable she is. Had she failed to return from the same errand, I¡¯d be out there searching for her after nightfall, at the latest.

    As it is, my succubus is a highly intelligent, conniving, devious, master physical caster with zero moral and more experience than all the veterans in his city combined. Of all the people in my house, I feel she needs my help the least. Or worse, that my help would compromise her. The only way I can imagine the hunters outwitting her is if she is forced to put herself in a compromising position to message me or reveal herself.

    So, I ignore her absence and bide my time, trusting she will bring back something worthwhile.

    It¡¯s not hard, as there are plenty of things to distract me. Namely, the visitors we receive during breakfast. Yulia¡¯s escorts, a contingent of lady knights from the Stars, finally arrive. They were meant to be the pampered, by Victory¡¯s standards, snow bunny¡¯s guards while she traveled outside of her home¡¯s stout walls. However, I was too eager to travel at their speed. As the knight were completely confident in our ability to keep their charge safe, they saw no problem in allowing us to go ahead, leaving them to follow at a pace that wouldn¡¯t kill them.

    The knights bring with them interesting tales. Like the way they were welcomed to the city. Quest also has walls, cute at best when compared to those of Victory, but no one mentions them when they speak of the city. The reason? Its three gates, in every direction except the north, are always open. The City of Magic and Adventure¡¯s traffic flows as freely and swiftly as the waters of a rushing river.

    They don¡¯t even bother searching visitors or wagons. Only a madman would attack the city filled to bursting with powerful casters and would then see themselves swiftly taken care of.

    Yet, despite the lax nature of the city, the Stars were stopped at the western gate and asked to step aside. Suspicious, and perhaps insulting, but knowing our intentions to negotiate with the city, they complied. They remained compliant even as hunters arrived and interrogated them about everything from their childhoods to their undergarments. The bastards actually tried to make the women strip to ¡°prove they weren¡¯t smuggling in dangerous materials¡±.

    To me, it sounds like a blatant attempt to goad the Stars into a fight. It very nearly worked. The knights of the north aren¡¯t known for their patience.

    Thankfully, before swords could be drawn, another group of hunters arrived and forced the first group to walk away. They then helpfully directed the lady knights to the Teppin estate, which is fortunate as the Stars were headed for the Grand Hall, having been unaware of my being ousted.

    But that¡¯s the least interesting story the Stars have.

    They were so confident in our ability to protect Yulia that they decided to wait for their sisters-in-arms to return from the campaigns, intending to help with the initial chaos returning armies brought with them before reinforcing us in Quest. They can personally confirm the rumors that the spring storms came early, causing more casualties than the north has seen in many years and forcing all the armies to turn around.

    They set off the day after Zach, Alana¡¯s older brother and the duke¡¯s eldest surviving son, returned with the bulk of the Moons¡¯ and Stars¡¯ forces, doing what they could to assist their fellows before making themselves scarce.

    That means they managed to escape the Fort before whatever terrible event devastated the fort and is emboldening the hunters happened. However, they aren¡¯t nearly as ignorant about it as we are. A messenger hawk found them on the road, sent by the Northern Devil himself, detailing the tragedy in its entirety and giving them strict instructions to keep Yulia in Quest until summer.

    Amazingly, the descension of a Lord of the Peaks still isn¡¯t the most interesting story, though it is certainly the most incredible. No, that would be what the Stars encountered on the road to the city.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°I never thought I would be served breakfast by a lord. We live in strange times.¡±

    The most interesting development by far is the presence of the true saint, Alana¡¯s almost betrothed, and one only three light casters in the north, Lancecain. Days of travel have done nothing to diminish his naturally given good looks, his full blonde hair artful despite its disarray and his strong chin managing to make his unkempt stubble look good. In an interesting twist, the man with the face of a hero is playing the role of the damsel.

    ¡°You can¡¯t see anything?¡± I ask, waving my hand at him from across the dining table. His cloudy gaze fails to track, or even react, to the wild gesture or any of the others I¡¯ve done since he explained his injury.

    ¡°Nothing at all, I¡¯m afraid.¡± A hand carefully moves about his plate until his fingers find his remaining sausage and he bites into it with relish. The lady knights have presumably heard the story many times and pay him no mind, scarfing down their own food.

    ¡°And you don¡¯t know what blinded you?¡±

    ¡°Mm. I know something jumped me while I was talking a walk. I remember signaling for help and fighting.¡± He shrugs. ¡°I must have suffered a blow to the head.¡±

    ¡°¡­and after suffering a blow this blow to the head and being blinded, you set off on a weeks-long journey to Quest in hopes we could cure you.¡± I know Victorians can be callous but what kind of healer would allow that?

    He responds as if he can read my mind. ¡°After the Lord of the Peaks appeared, the healers were exhausted saving lives. Even if curing my ailment was within their abilities, they wouldn¡¯t have the power to spare for a while and the process would take even longer. While a pure affinity, should Miss Kierra be inclined to help, could fix my problem easily.¡±

    ¡°So, you set out many days after the Stars but managed to catch up with them before they reached the city?¡±

    ¡°Two men on a mission and a decent steed are much faster than a small procession of knights taking their time to enjoy the scenery.¡± One of the lady knights looks up to make a rude gesture that he can¡¯t see, grunts in annoyance when she realizes as much, and then returns to her food.

    ¡°You took one horse for two people?¡±

    ¡°I can hardly ride on my own and there weren¡¯t many to spare after the devastation.¡±

    ¡°And your friend decided to leave you once he spotted the Stars¡¯ camp? Didn¡¯t even stop to say hello?¡±

    ¡°He was eager to return to Victory and help with the recovery efforts.¡±

    He¡¯s lying. I don¡¯t need my incredible senses to pick on it either. His story is completely ridiculous. It¡¯s a testament to his reputation that the Stars accepted him into their group with such flimsy excuses, though I suppose it¡¯d be too cruel to leave a blind comrade on the side of the road, no matter how suspect.

    I guess Lancecain¡¯s saintly demeanor doesn¡¯t extend to honesty. Or he has a very good reason for lying to our faces.

    As little as I know him, I¡¯m inclined to believe the second option but hope it¡¯s the first. He¡¯s too perfect for comfort. A flaw or really good scandal would make him much more tolerable.

    ¡°¡­your conclusion is right. If she¡¯s inclined, Kierra can fix you up better and faster than anyone else.¡±

    The question is, should I hold him down and have Fen ferret out his secrets. It makes me nervous when the walking embodiment of goodwill is hiding things. Or maybe the city is making me paranoid.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have much, but I understand the enormity of what I ask and would be willing to pay off my debt to you in whatever manner you wish.¡±

    Did he just proposition me? No, I¡¯m reading too much into a sincere promise. Damn that elf and her ridiculous suggestions, putting strange thoughts in my head. I know how attractive I am but to men, I¡¯m repulsive on an instinctual level. My pheromones aggravate them and, in large doses, can drive them to maddening wrath. That animal part of their brain should always be screaming for them to keep their distance, something that suits me fine.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep it in mind.¡± If he continues the path of slaying titans, he¡¯ll certainly earn plenty of gold. Not that I need his money. I¡¯ll help the man for free, only because it feels like I¡¯ll invite bad luck into my life if I don¡¯t hep a saint in need.

    ¡°At least let me help with your duties here. A show of numbers for the hunters, show them the north will always stand by its promises.¡±

    ¡°Spoken like a true Victorian.¡± I wonder what he would think about my impending ambush on the Swords? Would he understand the cruel practicality behind it? Or would he denounce me as a coward and a tyrant?

    Either way sounds like a hassle. Better to leave him to watch over Yulia. Who apparently will be with us for an entire season. Fun.

    ¡°Is Khan around? I wondered if I could say hello.¡±

    That¡¯d be difficult seeing as he¡¯s still trapped in a magical sleep. Hasn¡¯t been a good time to wake Alana¡¯s possibly traitorous brother. ¡°Sorry, but no. It¡¯s best for his treatment that we keep him isolated.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. How is that going?¡±

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s going. Mental conditions are complicated.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. It¡¯s a miracle if there¡¯s any progress at all.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s in good hands.¡±

    ¡°None better.¡± Lancecain flashes a bright smile before focusing on what remains of his breakfast. All the while, his heart pounds like a galloping horse.

    Suspicious.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-95

    [I bring troubling news, my summoner.]

    As expected, Geneva returns safe and sound, having successfully completed her errand. With Kiera preoccupied with Lancecain, Yulia distracted catching up with the Stars, Talia monopolizing Fen¡¯s attentions for her studies, Earl busy ¡°educating the Teppins¡±, and everyone else settling into the estate, I¡¯m alone as the Geneva settles at my feet as an invisible cat, a vague outline and her startling green eyes all I can make out of her. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s hear it.¡±

    [The store that was bombed did indeed belong to One For All and it was a storehouse. A large one. Much of the merchandise was destroyed by the fire but they managed to recover the sturdier materials. Bones, scales, potions stored in iron crates or enchanted chests. Affinity stones, only of the common variety.]

    I sigh in relief. If the guilds are really hiding a secret stash of greater affinity stones, and Victory tries to claim a share, there¡¯ll be no avoiding war.

    [The possibility still exists, Lou. They are undoubtedly hiding something and something that valuable would be hidden in a much more secure place than a secret basement.]

    I¡¯m not thinking about it. Get on with your report.

    [There were a total of seven casualties. Four in the store, three in the lower floors. I believe the guild was so stringent about controlling the scene because of one of the victims. Slaid was amongst the dead.]

    Abyss take it all. ¡°How do you know it was him?¡± A fire strong enough to ravage a building has more than enough heat to char a man¡¯s flesh until he¡¯s unrecognizable.

    [Hm. Every creature has different¡­markers in their blood and bones that make them unique. Even twins have different markers. It is one of the best ways to identify those that cannot change their form. I¡¯ve long developed a habit of cataloguing the markers of any individual I meet. I checked all the corpses¡ª]

    ¡°Just for the hell of it I suppose?¡± I ask, my lingering annoyance with her and her outrageous competence inspiring an urge to snark.

    [These markers are responsible for the physical characteristics you develop. I examined them to learn a general description about each of the victims.]

    ¡°And one of these corpse¡¯s markers matched Slaid¡¯s.¡±

    [Exactly.]

    ¡°¡­there¡¯s no chance you¡¯re wrong?¡±

    [Changing a person¡¯s markers permanently, what you have done with your prime form, in such a short time no less, takes incredible power. To do so with such precision to fool me takes incredible knowledge. Unless there is a being with my knowledge and coefficient as well as Kierra¡¯s pure affinity walking about, I can confidently say that was Slaid¡¯s corpse.]

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose it¡¯s a coincidence he¡¯s killed after giving us information about his rivals?¡±

    [I would assume not.]

    This isn¡¯t good. I thought the situation was desperate when Slaid sold out his opposition to the ¡°enemy¡±, but the Swords have taken it to the next level by directly attacking the Shields. If they eliminated an influential voice speaking for peace, they must be planning something. Something big and violent given their stance on the situation. I suppose Quest has more fire and destruction to look forward to.

    Crashing that meeting might not just be about making my life easier anymore. It might be the only way to save the city.

    Or it could be a trap.

    Slaid could have been targeted for giving us the location of the Swords¡¯ meeting. I don¡¯t know how they would have find out, he didn¡¯t strike as someone stupid enough to run his mouth about such a sensitive matter but I could be wrong. If they know I¡¯m coming, they¡¯ll set an ambush. I¡¯m not worried about myself, but if they try using bombs, or worse, the city, and a lot of innocents, are going to suffer.

    Or they could re-schedule.

    I don¡¯t know which would be more troublesome.

    ¡°How is your mana?¡±

    [Less than half. Lucas remained suspicious about my absence and routinely checked the scene for my presence. Remaining undetected demanded a lot of mana.]

    He struck me as the type. And thank the saints I trusted my instincts and didn¡¯t try to reach out to her. ¡°Rest up.¡± I¡¯m not comfortable sending her into the city without a full core. ¡°Hopefully, the city can survive two days without imploding.¡±

    [Hopefully. The house has filled up in my short time away.]

    ¡°That it has.¡± Thank goodness Lord Teppin had the sense to have an outbuilding set up as housing for the knights. It isn¡¯t comfortable, most of the knights having chosen to live off the property rather than endure the cramped space, but in a pinch, it can sleep two dozen, giving us more than enough space.

    [Our visitors are full of energy. Especially one who is popping in and out of every room in the house.]

    I freeze, sour dread and sweet satisfaction mixing in my gut. ¡°Let me guess. Lancecain?¡±

    [Indeed.]

    I knew he was suspicious. Abyss take that idiot and whatever he¡¯s up to. I don¡¯t need more problems right now!

    With a growl, I set off after him, following the mental guidance of my succubus, Geneva¡¯s chuckles echoing in my mind as I stomp through the halls.

    -

    ¡°Lady Tome!¡±

    I catch up to Lancecain as he exits a closet, a space only a servant would have any use for. He smiles unrepentantly as I watch him with suspicious eyes. Has this worked before? I can imagine his good looks getting him out of a lot of trouble. He should know it¡¯s a pointless gesture with me, which goes to show it¡¯s a matter of reflex, motivated by his sudden spike in heart rate and the faint hint of fear I can smell coming off him.

    ¡°Lance.¡± I cross my arms as he fidgets under my glare. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a bad person and that you sincerely think of Alana as a friend. For that, you get one¡ª" I raise a finger to demonstrate my point. ¡°¡ªchance to explain yourself. And I do mean one. Lie to me, I¡¯ll know and I won¡¯t ask again. Understand?¡±

    He nods reluctantly, his guileless smile turning into a wan smirk. ¡°I see what attracted Alana to you now.¡±

    Hah! If only. ¡°Flattery only works when it comes from a beautiful woman.¡±

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t agree more.¡±

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    The young knight sighs, shoulders sagging with the force of it. ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± he grumbles, running a hand through his messy hair. ¡°And a complicated one. A bit unbelievable and definitely liable to get me executed if taken in the wrong light, haha. If it¡¯s fine with you, I¡¯d rather we have this discussion somewhere more private.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    He blinks at my sudden response. ¡°Thank you for your trust.¡±

    ¡°Trust? Don¡¯t be ridiculous. Going somewhere alone with you isn¡¯t asking for much. If you try anything, it¡¯ll fail, and then I will hurt you, scoop out your secrets, and decide the rest of your punishment from there.¡± I motion for him to follow as I head for my temporary bedroom. ¡°This way.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-96

    Having enough gold to afford the best doesn¡¯t guarantee someone has the taste to make the most of that wealth. The Teppin house isn¡¯t a gaudy monstrosity, thank the saints, but it is practically empty by the standards of the capital, with a minimum of furniture, a sensible lack of extravagant waste, and a bland array of colors.

    Compared to that, the main bedroom, with its scarlet walls, two dressers, a handful of tapestries on the wall, and a full-length mirror with a golden frame, is downright vibrant. Much better than I expected. I only have one complaint. The bed, both the mattress and the frame supporting it. Their small size and weak construction discourage rowdy nighttime activities, which is a shame, but we¡¯ve made do.

    The room does have something I like, that being its location. I don¡¯t know why it¡¯s so far from any communal room in the house, but no one wanders down the hall its connected to unless they¡¯re coming to this room and I have plenty of warning before they do. A perfect place to have a conversation without being overheard. Rolly¡¯s magic could accomplish the same, but mana is too precious to use it for every little thing. Especially when the city could explode at any moment.

    I might have also wanted to see the saintly man squirm. He is annoyingly calm for someone caught searching the house in a very suspicious manner. People are much easier to read when they¡¯re nervous and I figured that someone of his moral disposition would be flustered entering a woman¡¯s bedroom. Or so I thought. His expression doesn¡¯t even flicker as I tell him to close the door.

    Hm. He¡¯s objectively handsome, physically fit, good-natured, and has a bright future as the single disciple of a well-known knight.

    ¡­this bastard probably gets invited into women¡¯s bedrooms all time, doesn¡¯t he?

    Saints, he¡¯s annoying.

    I scoff to myself as I take a seat at the end of the bed. Smartly, Lancecain remains by the door. Whether it¡¯s out of respect or to make an escape attempt easier, that¡¯s the question. Normally, I¡¯d assume the former, but I don¡¯t know. Things don¡¯t look good for him at the moment. ¡°No stray ears are going to hear us. Now, why are you here and what does it have to do with me?¡±

    ¡°Suppose I should start with an apology.¡± The fearless bastard has the audacity to smile at me, sheepish though it may be. ¡°My actions were an intrusion on your privacy and a violation of your generosity, made even more grievous seeing as your wife healed me of a crippling wound. I truly apologize and thank you for giving me the opportunity to explain.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Don¡¯t think your sincerity will work on me. ¡°Get to the point.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I haven¡¯t lost my memory, but my tale is so incredible, playing dumb was by far the better option. The beginning is true. I took a walk after settling many displaced residents in the walls of my order. Just to get a little time away from the chaos. And on that walk, I was ambushed¡­by the estrazi.¡±

    I sit up, his words grabbing my full attention. ¡°The same lizards that attacked us, fucked Khan¡¯s mind to oblivion, and tried to kidnap him? Those estrazi?¡±

    He winces. ¡°That would be them.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you were asking so many questions about Khan?¡± I climb to my feet as my thoughts race. Something in my posture must give away my feelings as Lancecain stiffens. ¡°That¡¯s why you were poking your nose everywhere. You were looking for him, for the lizards. What were you going to do if you found him? Kidnap him? Kill him?¡±

    ¡°Lou, please. This will make a lot more sense if I tell the story in order.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Talk fast.¡±

    ¡°As I said, they jumped me.¡± He sighs. ¡°I like to think of myself as a skilled fighter, but my style is centered around fighting a single opponent. I signaled for reinforcements but was overwhelmed before they could arrive and taken to their underground hideout. They kept me there for¡­I don¡¯t know how long as they waited for things to calm down on the surface. Then they gave me a choice¡ª"

    ¡°Give them Khan or die,¡± I interject. ¡°Surprised you surrendered.¡± I don¡¯t mean my words as an insult. I understand. There¡¯s nothing wrong with having a strong desire to live. A little surprised to see it in a Victorian knight, especially one strong enough to allow one to work for their mortal enemies.

    Lancecain¡¯s sour expression tells me my assumption is wrong before he speaks a word. Huh. I had my doubts whether the man could be anything but pleasant. Guess so. ¡°I¡¯m no coward. I told her where Khan was to draw her away from the fort. Victory was vulnerable after the attack. The last thing it needed was saboteurs on the inside. I¡¯m the most reasonable of my whole generation, you know? Every other man my age would have died rather than give up the information. Again and again, for no good reason. I spared them that.¡±

    ¡°I know. You don¡¯t have to explain to me how crazy you all are.¡±

    He relaxes when I don¡¯t insist on his cowardice. ¡°I agreed to escort her to Quest to avoid her stumbling onto any hapless villagers. The average villager doesn¡¯t know anything about other races. They¡¯d see the estrazi and mistake them for manabeasts. They¡¯d do something stupid to get themselves killed. There was also the matter of being blind. It made sense.¡±

    I agree. Those are all very good reasons why he would escort the estrazi here, but not why he¡¯s working for them. And there¡¯s something else. ¡°Her.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You said her. You told her where Khan was.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. The leader of the group is a female estrazi who goes by Little Water. She is reluctant to share information about her people, but I gather she is the daughter of their leader. The others certainly treat her like royalty. And she treats the others like peasants, if you take my meaning.¡±

    Saints. That word no longer makes me cower, but it does make me uncomfortable. ¡°Important then. Powerful?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Hard to say. I did injure them while surrounded by half a dozen fighters but I¡¯m not exactly average. I¡¯d say they have the fighting prowess of the average hunter, not a veteran. Keep in mind that evaluation doesn¡¯t take into account their natural advantages. Do you recall their camouflage?¡± I do. ¡°Suggests they are ambush predators. I also haven¡¯t seen them with proper weapons. Nothing but daggers between them.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re confident they¡¯re not master casters in disguise but not much else?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s as much as I¡¯d swear to.¡±

    That¡¯s good news, but also confusing. ¡°If they¡¯re so weak, why are you doing their biding?¡±

    The young knight¡¯s confidence is rocked. Something makes him shuffle his feet discretely, like a boy being interrogated by his parents. Sigh. I¡¯m not going to like what he says next, am I? ¡°She was careful not to share too many details about her family or their home, but she was happy to talk about herself and her goals. Lou, she wants to make peace with Harvest. Create an alliance between the estrazi and Victory.¡±

    ¡°Impossible,¡± is my immediate response. I¡¯m not a Victorian but even I know that¡¯s nothing more than a dream. A fever dream at that, something a mind could only conjure while delirious with sickness.

    The north¡¯s hatred of the creatures they know as the Lords of Winter has raged for literal generations. It is the worst blood feud I¡¯ve ever heard of. Worse than any story has ever imagined. It¡¯s a part of them. But even if they could put that aside, Victory needs the campaigns. Their culture, and more importantly their economy, rely on war.

    ¡°I thought the same at first.¡± One of his feet rises, as if he wants to take a step forward, but then he thinks better of it. ¡°Little Water confirmed that her people have the ability to direct the beasts of the north, including the titans¡ª"

    ¡°Saints blessed asses!¡± What is this idiot thinking? She confesses that her people are responsible for the horrendous casualties Victory suffers every year and he¡¯s talking about making peace?

    Maybe one of the estrazi¡¯s mental casters did get their hands on him.

    ¡°The only reason they send beasts after us is to keep us out of the north,¡± he continues hurriedly. ¡°That is their duty. To defend us from a threat greater than even a wave of titans. Her hope is that if she can make Harvest understand that threat, Victory will join the estrazi as the north¡¯s guardians, before the war escalates any further.¡±

    Oh, so not just peace. ¡°An alliance. With Victory.¡± Maybe, maybe, I can imagine a world where both sides lay down their arms and glare at each other from an established boundary, but the two groups working together?

    Time to crack his head open to see how scrambled his brains are.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-97

    Lancecain presses his back against the door as I approach him, one hand blindly grasping for the handle. For a moment. Then he lets go, straightens his shoulders, and looks me in the eyes. ¡°Please calm down.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m perfectly calm. We¡¯re just going to have my thrall take a look inside your head, make sure everything is where it needs to be.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t fight that but before you make any hasty judgments, let me finish¡ª"

    ¡°I¡¯m done hearing about what the lizards think.¡± I stop advancing on him. ¡°You want to keep talking? Tell me what you think. Why are you supporting this nonsense?¡± It¡¯s going to be hard to convince me it¡¯s something other than being mind-fucked. The only reason I¡¯m even pausing to listen is because I know there is a world-threatening secret in the north, which supports his story.

    The young knight pauses to consider his next words. Deeply consider. I can almost hear the thoughts turning over in his head. Out of curiosity, and a more urgent desire for growth, I cast Geneva¡¯s spell, the one that makes it easier to feel what she calls thought emissions.

    Lacking her expertise, the best I can parse from the strange sense is vague emotions. Hope. Determination. Panic? Ah. I think he¡¯s misunderstanding the intention behind my glowing eyes. Alongside those feeling is¡­darkness. All-encompassing night without so much as a pinprick of light. An image that should invoke fear or dread but instead, I feel comfort from it.

    I drop my spell as he begins to talk, not wanting to be distracted by the mental sense I can¡¯t understand when I have other more reliable ones. ¡°I love the north. It¡¯s not my place to think about its future, James lead Victory. But, if I did have the chance to lead, to guide its direction, I would want it to be more than wars. And not just a copy of the south.¡±

    I choke down a laugh. That was a slight against the snow bunny, wasn¡¯t it? ¡°The north is full of wonder, beauty, and opportunity, unique to itself. Victory could be the gem of Harvest, not a place for nightmares and madmen. For that, we need peace.¡±

    His gaze is steady, his shoulders relaxed, and there is no hint of doubt anywhere. This is a man sure of his convictions.

    Could still be mind-fuckery.

    Or it could be a saintly young man fighting for his home.

    ¡­I suppose I can listen a little longer.

    He sighs in relief as I retake my seat at the edge of the bed. At least he has no illusions about his chances of survival should I decide he needs to die. More evidence to suggest he¡¯s telling the truth. If he were a mind-warped agent, he wouldn¡¯t care about his survival. ¡°Tell me the rest.¡±

    ¡°To prove the estrazi and humanity can work together, she wants to show evidence of a happy union. A, er, marriage. Of a kind.¡±

    Saints preserve me. ¡°Are you telling me that she came looking for her fianc¨¦?¡±

    ¡°¡­of a kind.¡±

    Khan gets lost in a storm, a death sentence, but is rescued by the estrazi. As their prisoner, he falls in love with the daughter of their leader, a princess. They fall in love and hope that their love can bring peace to their warring people.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    But a prophecy demands they be separated. For the greater good, Khan¡¯s memories are wiped and he¡¯s sent back to his family to be executed. This Little Water doesn¡¯t accept that. She defies fate and sends servants to retrieve her lover. When that doesn¡¯t work, she goes after him herself, crossing enemy territory to do so. And she¡¯s done it! She¡¯s right here, practically at the doorstep of the woman holding him.

    That. Is. Amazing!

    Blessed saints, who is this woman?! This is both the most romantic and heroic thing I¡¯ve ever heard. Lancecain is sure she isn¡¯t powerful and I doubt she¡¯s an immortal like me. That means she¡¯s made it here while risking life and limb every day, fighting against impossible odds. Saints, does she even have a plan? Or is she just following the whims of her aching heart?

    I love it.

    ¡°I hoped to find Khan and determine his mental state before reporting to Little Water.¡±

    There. I¡¯ve been waiting for the smallest sign throughout our entire conversation, so I don¡¯t miss the tiniest jump in his heart rate or the faint flicker in his expression. I¡¯m not sure what they mean but I know something about what he just said rattled him. ¡°What did you expect to find? You saw Khan at the Witness Circle. That¡¯s not something you fix in a week, if you fix it at all.¡±

    There it is again. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect much. Mainly, I wanted to see how much he remembered of Little Water and their plans.¡±

    ¡°¡­my succubus thoroughly searched his mind and found no mention of princesses or alliances.¡± Not the kind of details she¡¯d miss.

    ¡°Ah. A shame.¡±

    The strange signals I¡¯ve been picking up coalesce into a clear image. Excitement. Bordering on happiness from the smiles he¡¯s suppressing. Is he glad that Khan doesn¡¯t remember Little Water? What does Lancecain have against Alana¡¯s brother?

    Or¡­what does he have against Khan¡¯s relationship with Little Water?

    ¡­it couldn¡¯t be.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be disappointed.¡±

    ¡°But you aren¡¯t.¡±

    He startles, like a spooked cat. A finger absently scratches behind an ear as his gaze fixates on a wall. ¡°I guess there¡¯s no point denying it?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Fine. I admit, I¡¯m glad Khan isn¡¯t in a suitable state. No offense to him, he¡¯s a good man far as I know and I hope he improves eventually, but we are talking about spearheading major change. Little Water is poised to battle five centuries of hatred head-on. I don¡¯t think that is a responsibility that should be put on the shoulders of a man who doesn¡¯t have the heart for conflict. If this is going to have any chance of success, she needs a strong partner.¡±

    It can¡¯t be. ¡°Someone like you?¡±

    Saints blessed asses, he actually blushes! It is!

    I howl in laughter as Lancecain tries valiantly to remain stoic. A futile gesture. No matter how composed he remains on the outside, his turbulent insides give him away. ¡°You weren¡¯t checking up on Khan. You were sizing up the competition, haha!¡±

    ¡°No, no. You misunderstand. I¡­¡± He trails off as I stare at him, completely unconvinced. Then he sighs. ¡°I have considered forming a union with Little Water should Khan prove unfit.¡±

    ¡°You want to marry a girl from another race whom you¡¯ve never laid eyes on. Because she blinded you.¡±

    ¡°There are rougher methods of courtship in Victory.¡± That sets me off again. Lancecain endures my second fit of humor with an admirably stoic expression. ¡°I¡¯ve come out of it no worse for wear. And yes, I haven¡¯t seen her but I¡¯m more interested in her as a partner. She is thoughtful, ambitious, and decisive. That¡¯s what important. This union would be for Victory.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. It has nothing to do with you getting some tail.¡± Literally. Unless the females don¡¯t have them. I have so many questions.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m simply doing what¡¯s best for my home.¡±

    Liar.

    ¡°Alright!¡± I jump to my feet, grinning madly. ¡°You¡¯ve convinced me. I¡¯ll listen to what this Little Water has to say.¡± I was wondering what I¡¯d do to amuse myself before we declare war on the Swords. This¡¯ll do nicely.

    ¡°Thank you, Lou. I¡¯ll¡ª"

    ¡°Stay here and try not to get into any more trouble. After you tell me where to find the estrazi.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    Saints bless him, I think he¡¯s prepared to protect their location, or at least do his very best, if he doesn¡¯t like my answer. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to harm your lovely lizard.¡± Are you kidding? This woman sounds amazing. I¡¯d throw her a feast for making a man she blinded fall in love with her alone. Legendary. ¡°We¡¯re going to be the best of friends.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright. But I would suggest you don¡¯t call them lizards.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-98 (Little Water)

    Little Water hated the human kingdom.

    She knew her journey would be difficult, expected to face hardships that could prove fatal. What she didn¡¯t expect was to be so annoyed and the most unexpected things bothered her the most.

    Chief among them was the lack of walls. The estrazi made their homes underground, where space was limited. Exceptions were made for the rooms of females, with their need for birthing chambers, and training rooms but otherwise, her home was comprised of small rooms connected by narrow tunnels. It was a choice motivated both by practicality, as there weren¡¯t many building materials in the north, and instinct, the estrazi natural burrowers that felt safest under a cover of earth.

    She¡¯d spent only a fraction of her life under an open sky and always took comfort knowing she could return to the warren when she grew tired of it. There was no escape during her travels. There were earth casters amongst her nameless servants but, walking through enemy territory as they were, she didn¡¯t dare allow them to exhaust themselves seeing to her comfort.

    The necessity of it didn¡¯t make her trial any easier. With each consecutive day spent sleeping under the stars, the more uncomfortable Little Water became. Her fear was as inescapable as it was shameful, a holdover from the time the estrazi were simple beasts far from the apex of the food chain. Their origins were taught to every female, so they never took for granted the gifts of the majesties, but it was a disgraceful and their greatest shame. The proud guardians chosen by the wardens of the world did want to remember the times when they were no better than birds and mice.

    After three measly days, her overstimulated nerves caused her limbs to twitch, her scales were haunted by a ghostly itch she could never satisfy, and she had problems falling asleep at night. Worse, her servants suffered the same. She was forced to compromise and allow them to cover themselves with foliage, though it forced them to make camp hours earlier.

    Accompanying the dreaded sky was the abominable distance she had to travel. She knew from her studies that the human kingdom was large, far larger than the estrazi territory and even the north they guarded. The simple fact was something entirely different to experience.

    Days and days of traveling at a lope, a pace between a fast walk and a run that the estrazi could maintain for hours without tiring, weren¡¯t enough to reach Quest, the settlement the yellow-maned human spoke of.

    Little Water couldn¡¯t fathom any reason for the humans to build their settlements so far apart. She understood there were too many to fit in a single warren but putting such a large distance between seemed idiotic. How would the different warrens, or settlements, cooperate? Could their leader, the human king, even command them effectively? Even delivering them should be a chore.

    What would they do if they were attacked by a powerful foe? One that could lay waste to a great area and required an army of elites to push back, like the draconids the estrazi fought off before settling into the cold wastes of the human kingdom. If it took days to muster their forces, they were doomed, as the first beast with a draconic appetite to realize this weakness would pick off their settlements one by one.

    Never mind that the long stretches of unmonitored wilderness was beneficial, allowing her and her servants to move with ease. The idea of it remained strange and offensive.

    It wasn¡¯t the only aspect of human methodology she disagreed with. Most of what the yellow-maned one told her of his people seemed rife with the confusion and tragic floundering of those who didn¡¯t understand their places within their brood. There was no greater chaos that could be found than that caused by a creature that thought to reach beyond its natural station. Self-improvement was to be encouraged and ambition was needed to fuel it, but when that ambition devoured the greater good to sate itself, it became something unseemly.

    Such things needed to be guided by discipline first and reason second. If Little Water had put her ambitions first when leaving home, she would have taken every nameless servant she could find, as well as many more weapons and supplies. However, such a loss, especially those nameless with rare affinities, would weaken the brood and possibly cheat it out of a more prosperous future. It took disciple to keep her greed in check and reason to determine what would not be missed.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The yellow-maned one was also a creature of reason, which gave her hope for the rest of humanity. When she and her servants surrounded him, he faced them calmly. Fought them with the same calm, rationally determining he had no chance at victory and signaling his brood before engaging them.

    He showed his reason again when he took to his captivity with grace and once more when he agreed to escort them to Quest, his lack of eyesight making the task more difficult but ensuring he stayed docile, an acceptable trade. A bit of cunning as well, as he used the opportunity to probe her for information.

    Having spent her life fending off the subtle interrogations of her sisters seeking to keep a careful eye on her progress and movements, she was immune to his sincerity and good humor, though she did appreciate his decision not to make their acquaintance hostile, a triumph of reason over emotion. She saw fit to reward him with information of her vision, though nothing of relevance. It was a long journey and he made for a decent distraction.

    She wasn¡¯t foolish enough to trust him after exchanging wit and sharing a laugh. Every act that suggested otherwise was a calculated risk. Letting him join the other humans from the north was to judge his intentions. She was confident finding Quest, she need only follow the singular road. Had he betrayed her to the humans, she would have ridded herself of a bad element at no cost, fully confident in their ability to outrun the armored knights and their beasts slowed by pulling a carriage behind them.

    Her judgment had paid off as the yellow-maned one learned crucial information from his broodmates, including the location of her human, her Khan.

    The yellow-maned one asked her to remain hidden in the city as he searched for Khan, but she didn¡¯t dare entrust him with her future. She followed the northerners through the bustling city, the distracted humans paying no attention to the scattered groups of strange individuals in dark cloaks who weren¡¯t the oddest dressed pedestrians, to an isolated dwelling on a large stretch of empty land. The Teppin where she would find her human.

    She was reassured in her judgment once again when she saw the signs of battle in the surroundings. She knew nothing about it, but it suggested Teppin, Quest, and perhaps all the human kingdom was dangerous. Too dangerous for her human that was not meant for violence.

    She had to get him out.

    ¡°Well, well. What do we have here?¡±

    Little Water was not the most talented of the brood in any way. Her talent for magic was middling at best, she didn¡¯t have the coordination for martial pursuits, and didn¡¯t have the aptitude for scholarly pursuits. However, she wasn¡¯t lacking in any of the natural gifts of her people. She had excellent senses, particularly her sense of smell. Nothing, not even camouflaged estrazi scouts, should have been able to sneak up on her.

    Yet, someone had. Two creatures.

    They were of different coloring and size, but shared many characteristics, like their cloven feet and their thin, whip-like tails that swung slowly as they walked.

    The one in the lead was the shorter of the two, with thin limbs that didn¡¯t give the impression of strength and soft curves. Her skin was gray, a color that suggested a lack of vitality, but her pink eyes were luminous, gleaming as if they were gemstones beneath a strong light.

    There was something dangerous in those eyes. Instincts of a time when the estrazi used their scales to hide rather than hunt screamed at her that the thing before was a predator, a horribly dangerous one.

    The same went for the second. She was sure they were of the same race but the second female was taller with brick red skin, silver eyes, and golden hair. At first glance, one would think she was the stronger of the two, being of greater size, but Little Water wasn¡¯t fooled. Subtle clues, such as the way the red one moved a half step behind the gray one, gave away the truth of their dynamic.

    Worse, both had horns. Nubs, shorter than her own, but they were omens. Born of a prophetic father, Little Water put great weight in omens.

    ¡°Pests, I think.¡± Silver eyes flicked over the estrazi. The two females should have been intimidated by Little Water and her nearly two dozen servants. They outnumbered them ten to one, odds that would give pause to even the best fights, but the strange creatures were entirely unconcerned. ¡°Should we chase them off? Or shall we have a snack?¡±

    Little Water¡¯s tail slapped the ground in annoyance. She was no one¡¯s prey. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Look, it speaks!¡± The silver-eyed one giggled, tail swinging faster. ¡°Perhaps we will keep it. Teach it more tricks.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we will.¡± The pink eyes looked over them with hunger. ¡°Ah, fate favors us after all. Just as I was wondering what to do about our little disruption with our summoner, this treat falls into our hands. This realm is glorious. Full of fortune.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-99 (Little Water)

    Should she kill them?

    The longer the two strange females lingered, the more uncomfortable Little Water became. If the encounter was to come to violence, initiative would be valuable. The problem was their confidence. It gave her pause as she knew it wasn¡¯t false, not a hint of fear or anxiety on either of them. That meant they had something to be confident about, despite the situation. A lifetime in the brood meant she couldn¡¯t bring herself to underestimate a strong female.

    Was she letting old fears deprive her of an opportunity? Or were older instincts trying to save her life?

    ¡°Did your mother raise you with no reason?¡± Little Water hissed. ¡°Unless you mean to make enemies of us, you will state your name and purpose.¡±

    The pink-eyed one chuckled. ¡°A trespasser is disparaging us for treating it with no regard. Funny. Lou will like that.¡±

    ¡°Should we make enemies of it?¡± the other asked, a long tongue licking its bottom lip.

    ¡°As much fun as that would be, our summoner has other designs.¡± The pink-eyed one bowed, the subservient gesture ruined by the deviant flicks of her tail. ¡°I am Geneva, a humble servant.¡±

    The second female copied the gesture. ¡°Fen, a humbler servant.¡±

    They raised their heads together. Little Water fought not to flinch as the danger in the air intensified. ¡°As for why we¡¯re here,¡± Geneva practically purred, an attractive sound to those who couldn¡¯t recognize the threat of it. ¡°That much should be obvious. Now, it is your turn. Who are you and what do you seek here?¡±

    It had to be now. Little Water¡¯s identity and purpose couldn¡¯t be met by anything but violence. This was the last moment she would hold the advantage, if she had any advantage at all.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Geneva said lazily. ¡°Attack us, that is. You, we will keep alive, but the ones behind you will die.¡±

    ¡°They would be proud to give their lives for the brood.¡± How did the pink-eyed one know her intentions? It wasn¡¯t a large leap in logic given the situation, but the certainty and timing of the words seemed like more than mere observation.

    ¡°Yes, they would be. But will it be the brood they die for? No. It will be for nothing. You are¡­their leader. Their caretaker. Their¡­mother? But not quite. Interesting.¡±

    Cold dread chilled the end of Little Water¡¯s tail. She recognized the creature¡¯s method of throwing probing words to dig deeper into another¡¯s thoughts.

    The pink-eyed one, no, Geneva, was a mental affinity user. From the details she¡¯d uncovered and how quickly she uncovered them, a skilled one. Enough to rival one of her good sisters. Perhaps even her greater ones.

    If so, they were horribly outclassed, no matter their numbers.

    ¡°It would be a cruel mother that sacrifices her children.¡±

    Little Water glared at the females. Did the second one also have the mental affinity? And the same amount of training? Did it matter? Geneva was enough of a threat.

    She could see no road to victory, running would cost her far too much if it were at all possible, and they had already admitted they didn¡¯t want to kill her. If she were to be taken hostage, they would take her into the Teppin dwelling, where she sought to go anyway. Allowing herself to be detained by a superior enemy was dangerous but there was only one logical course of action.

    Moving slowly so that her intentions weren¡¯t misunderstood, Little Water removed her cloak, throwing it aside. Then she knelt, pressed her belly to the ground, and extended her tail straight out. There was no deeper submission and she had to swallow down the wave of embarrassed rage taking such a pose before another creature besides her mother invoked. ¡°We surrender.¡±

    ¡°A sensible thing, at least,¡± Geneva said with a chuckle.

    ¡°One that hasn¡¯t forgotten where it rightly belongs,¡± Fen added. Little Water¡¯s jaw flexed as she resisted the urge to hiss.

    ¡°But it doesn¡¯t have a good memory. It forgot to answer our questions. Stand up, stupid thing, and come along. You can speak on the way.¡±

    Little Water rose to her feet. With motions of her tail, she signaled for the nameless to follow peacefully as the females waved for her to walk toward the dwelling, keeping pace on either side of her. ¡°I am Little Water.¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°A translation? She does not mean Little as the Common tongue means it.¡±

    ¡°You have spent too long dabbling in the mind of your pet, Fen. It is making you rusty.¡±

    ¡°Forgive my incompetence.¡±

    Little Water noticed Geneva¡¯s tail whipped at the speed of amusement. ¡°It is indeed the closest translation of her own tongue to Common. A title, one tied to achievement and responsibility. As she is merely Little Water, we know what to think of our little trespasser, don¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°How?¡± From the moment she determined they wielded the mental affinity, Little Water had been working to control her thoughts, keeping the darkness of the warren¡¯s tunnels at the forefront of her mind. The fact that the creature had read so much despite her efforts was monstrous and horrifying.

    ¡°Never mind that. You have another question to answer.¡±

    ¡°¡­if you are what I think you are, then you know already.¡±

    ¡°Answer the question, little brood mother.¡±

    ¡°I am here to retrieve my human, the one named Khan.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Not Lancecain as well?¡±

    ¡°The yellow-maned one is not one of mine.¡±

    ¡°He could have fooled us, working on your behalf as he is.¡±

    ¡°He works on his own behalf.¡± The source of his loyalty was self-preservation, not any admiration or empathy for the estrazi or their duty.

    ¡°I see. Then, should you retrieve Khan, will you leave peacefully?¡±

    ¡°You know the answer.¡±

    ¡°And should you not?¡±

    ¡°¡­you know the answer to that as well.¡±

    Geneva chuckled. ¡°Oh, Lou is going to adore you.¡±

    ¡°This¡­Lou. You have mentioned the name many times.¡±

    ¡°I have.¡±

    Little Water was starting to think the red-eyed creature enjoyed playing games. ¡°Will you tell me of them?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need. You will meet the individual soon enough.¡±

    ¡°Who is this being to you? Another of your kind?¡± One thing Little Water was sure of, this Lou being was their superior. They both spoke the name with subservience, if not admiration or reverence. That likely meant it was another female of great power and intellect.

    Or this was another part in the pink-eyed one¡¯s game.

    ¡°Not one of us,¡± Geneva answered. ¡°And your thoughts are right, though the logic behind your assumptions so amusingly flawed. Lou is female and powerful. She¡¯s responsible for all of this after all.¡±

    Little Water followed the waving hand to the destruction surrounding the dwelling and dread enveloped more of her tail. ¡°¡­alone?¡±

    ¡°Without sustaining a single injury.¡±

    Another great magic user then. Or perhaps something more to command the two monsters escorting her.

    ¡°As for what she is to us¡­everything. And to you, she shall be the same.¡±

    ¡°I think¡ª"

    ¡°After all, she controls the fate of the human you have risked so much to rescue.¡±

    Little Water¡¯s tail flicked in annoyance. She had surmised as much. Those with power made decisions. It made sense that the strongest should command the fates of all within her territory. ¡°I care for Khan, but I am my mother¡¯s daughter first, estrazi second, and only Little Water third. I will not be taken in by another so easily.¡±

    ¡°Easily? No. But taken, you will be. By love or fear, that is the only question. I suggest you prepare yourself.¡±

    Little Water would have preferred to ask Geneva more questions, as nothing calmed her more than proper insight, but the creature ignored her, forcing her to use other means to compose herself. She preferred a long trek through the snow to calm her mind when restless, but that was impossible.

    It forced her to settle for a spell, fire and air nameless working together to shroud her in frosty air. It was a poor substitute, but the chill helped to clear her mind. When they crossed the threshold of the dwelling, she was completely focused, ready to leap out of the way of danger or take advantage of the slightest opportunity.

    Neither waited in the large welcoming room. There was a rather odd sight of a human male in a dress wiping the frame of a painting, clothing she¡¯d thought meant to identify females. He froze when they entered, his mouth opening to ask a question or raise a protest, but he was stopped. He didn¡¯t stop himself, something else was responsible. Little Water could tell from the way his throat flexed.

    ¡°Go and fetch the mistress of the house,¡± Geneva said, pink eyes glowing with mana for a moment.

    The man released a strange sound as he was released from the effect of her magic and hurriedly walked off while rubbing his throat.  He returned shortly after with two people in tow. The first she recognized as the yellow-maned human. Lancecain.

    He seemed whole and healthy, his lack of escort suggesting he had found the healer he believed could cure his sight. It was a small relief. He had been helpful and it was the way of the estrazi to see good service rewarded. His features were scrunched with what Little Water had learned to recognize as confusion and he kept trying to meet her gaze. Unfortunately, it was entirely focused on the second person brought in by the strange man.

    A human female with dark skin and dark hair, made brighter by streaks of violet. She was dressed in a simple shirt and pants that fit her frame well, a sign of money according to her human. Her well-defined arms and her easy smile as she stared down nearly two dozen strangers of unknown intentions spoke to her power, but that wasn¡¯t what drew Little Water¡¯s attention and refused to release it.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Geneva said before chuckling darkly. Little Water hardly noticed, an old memory occupying most of her mind.

    ¡°A majesty draped in the colors of a roaring fire, with scarlet eyes that gleamed like rubies. Those beneath her wings mistook her glory for the setting sun, as she stole heat from the world with each beat of her wings. Those who followed her knew her as the inextinguishable blaze, the purest example of the majesties¡¯ might that crushed those that sought to defy the natural order of the world. So striking was her appearance, it was known to all, her visage the guardian of holy places. So striking, that the sign of corruption was obvious to any that witnessed it. A violet gaze that disdained the world¡­¡±

    A violent gaze that disdained the world, just like the one Little Water stared into now.  It wasn¡¯t enough on its own but combined with her father¡¯s message that Khan would fall into the hands of a second calamity, she could only draw one conclusion.

    ¡°Maybe my luck is turning around,¡± the calamity said with no small amount of humor. ¡°I was just going to find you, lizard. I have so many questions.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-100

    Should I bring a gift?

    It occurs to me that despite having no violent intentions toward these estrazi, a human, their age-old enemy, intruding on a secret rendezvous and demanding they surrender might not be taken well. I refuse to bring Lancecain, both to avoid the odd chance they have a plan for such and because I¡¯m not entirely convinced something doesn¡¯t have its fingers in his head. It¡¯s not hard to imagine that Little Water is tense at the moment, easily provoked into something stupid. It is up to me save her from herself and while I¡¯m normally confident in my charms towards the fairer sex, I have doubts as to how effective they¡¯ll be wielded against a woman whom the word reptilian is not an insult, but a wholly accurate descriptor.

    Hence, thoughts of a gift. Would a lizard that grew up in the freezing north appreciate something colorfully mundane like a bouquet of flowers? A bottle of Herbanacle? Or maybe something like a nice, juicy rat. That¡¯s what lizards eat, right? Or is that just snakes?

    ¡°I really think it¡¯s best that I come with you.¡±

    ¡°And I think it¡¯s best that you wait here quietly,¡± I tell Lancecain as I scour through the dresser, looking for a suitable outfit. If I¡¯m trying to make an impression, a simple shirt and pants won¡¯t do. Though nothing too formal either. Aside from not wanting our first meeting to be constrained by the expectations of social graces, I have my doubts on whether the estrazi would appreciate the gesture. I want to look good, maybe imposing, but not intimidating. Hmm.

    ¡°Little Water is a cautious woman¡ª"

    ¡°Not that cautious.¡± She dared to sneak into an enemy kingdom after all.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid she won¡¯t take kindly to being ambushed. Things will go much easier with me there to explain.¡±

    ¡°I think things will go just fine without you.¡± My frustration escapes me as a soft sigh as I close the drawers and look at him over my shoulder. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d think you didn¡¯t want this meeting to happen at all.¡±

    The saintly knight stiffens at my accusation but holds my gaze. ¡°I want it to happen, was going to advocate for it myself as there¡¯s no way we could sneak Khan out beneath your notice. I¡­just don¡¯t want anything to go wrong. This feels very much like walking on ice. Everything¡¯s solid but one wrong move and you¡¯ll slip. Worse, step too hard and the ice will crack, dropping you into freezing waters.¡±

    ¡°Enough with the colorful analogies. Really, how can this go wrong?¡±

    ¡°You could end up offending her and causing a war between our races.¡±

    ¡°Starting? That war has been raging for five centuries already, hasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been telling you¡ª" He cuts himself off with a deep sigh. ¡°I really think I should¡ª"

    [Lou.]

    ¡°Hold that thought, Lance.¡±

    [I have something interesting for you. Trespassers with scales and tails.]

    No. The estrazi? They¡¯re here?

    [Indeed.]

    Oh ho. As expected of the daring woman willing to face an army to retrieve her lost love, she wasn¡¯t content to wait for Lancecain to bring news. Come to snatch Khan herself, I suppose. Is she alone?

    [Accompanied by nearly two dozen others.]

    Then I don¡¯t have to track down the rest of them. How lucky. Well, show them in.

    [As you wish, my summoner.]

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    ¡°Good news, Lance. You¡¯ll be accompanying me to the meeting after all.¡±

    ¡°Really? Thank the ancestors. Lou, you won¡¯t¡ªwait.¡± His eyes narrow with suspicion as I move over to the full-length mirror besides the dresser. No time to change but I look fine, I suppose. It would be a trial to make this face and body look anything other than gorgeous really. ¡°Forgive me, but you are not a generous woman.¡±

    ¡°Nothing to forgive. You¡¯re quite right.¡±

    ¡°So why have you changed your mind?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯ve changed my mind but that someone else has changed the circumstances. Little Water is here. Seems a bit petty to keep you away when she¡¯s gone through the effort of coming to us.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s here?! But why¡­¡±

    I look over as he trails off, watching his face go through a myriad of expressions. Finally, his features settle on a sour frown, hurt evident in his eyes. I smother a chuckle at the sight. Is the young hero realizing that his lizard isn¡¯t as taken with him as he is with her?

    ¡°Don¡¯t be upset. She¡¯s a headstrong woman, isn¡¯t she? I¡¯m sure she appreciates your goodwill, but I doubt she¡¯s gotten this far sitting back and letting someone solve her problems for her.¡±

    ¡°¡­you sound as if you admire her.¡±

    ¡°Is she not admirable? I keep telling you, I have nothing but friendly intentions toward the wayward maiden in love. Come on.¡± I motion for him to follow me as I leave the bedroom. ¡°Our guests are here.¡±

    There is a veritable bounce to my steps as I walk toward the living room. Not that there is anything about this situation to be particularly joyful about. An estrazi leaving the north is bound to be the opening act in another tragedy, a problem that will no doubt find its way to my doorstep. My cheerful mood is a temporary thing, I¡¯m sure. I¡¯m choosing to invest all my attention into this Little Water¡¯s epic tale of love and treachery to keep my mind away from the greater implications for as long as possible.

    Given that I¡¯m going to murder who knows how many innocent people in a few days, hopefully with the benefit of saving thousands more, I can¡¯t be faulted for wanting to indulge in a little frivolity. To hold onto that last glorious night at our old home. Keep the party going, as it were.

    With singing bards and childhood stories dominating my thoughts, I step into the welcoming room with a big smile. An interesting sight awaits me, a crowd of figures obscured by long, dark cloaks of varying shades, the oversized hoods obscuring their features. Off to the side are my succubi, Geneva in her usual guise and Fen having shrugged off her human pretenses, but I only spare them a fleeting glance. One figure commands my full attention.

    She¡¯s standing before the cloaked crowd, the proper place for a leader, with her head held high but the end of her tail lashing in what I can only interpret as anxious anticipation. She¡¯s quite different from the estrazi that ambushed us in the north. Not quite as¡­beastly, I suppose. More human, though there is something predatory about her features.

    Perhaps it¡¯s the lack of a nose, though she does have two small nostrils, that makes her eyes and their slitted pupils look too large. Or her thin lips that fail to soften her angular face. Her silvery-blue complexion would be exotic if I weren¡¯t used to casual shapeshifting but the pattern of scales over her cheeks and the sides of her face are certainly interesting. The small line of hair that follows the crown of her head is short but has a healthy sheen, speaking to efforts to maintain it. The same goes for her horns, polished to a gleam.

    Overall, an exotic charm. I can see how she has two young men lusting after her, though poor Lancecain insists his interest is merely political, despite lacking in womanly charms. No chest to speak of but she does have noticeable hips. Probably to swing that girthy tail of hers. There¡¯s a lot more behind her than my succubi¡¯s whip-like appendages.

    Is that what it is? Do Khan and Lancecain have a thing for tails? Saints, I hope it¡¯s true. That¡¯d be amazing.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Geneva mutters but I ignore whatever scheme is no doubt brewing in that devious head of hers.

    ¡°Maybe my luck is turning around,¡± I say to the estrazi who is just as interested in me as I am in her. ¡°I was just going to find you, lizard. I have so many questions.¡±

    Maybe it¡¯s her eyes that have enthralled the men of the north. They certainly are something. Blue, but incredibly pale. Almost clear. They remind me of ice. I¡¯m happy to stare them, picking out the slightest variations in her irises, but she soon musters her voice. As expected of the heroic maiden.

    ¡°If this is meant to be a cordial meeting,¡± she says, her voice a pleasant rasp that hisses a little on certain letters, ¡°then you should refrain from calling me lizard. Or do you not understand the insult implied if someone calls you an ape?¡±

    I raise my hands playfully while I walk toward her. Reading her is strange but I can tell she stiffens with fright at my approach. I stop well enough away and hold out a hand. ¡°Well, I do want this to be cordial and I think that starts with introductions. Lourianne Tome, no one who is rather quickly and against my own wishes becoming someone.¡±

    That entrancing gaze moves down to my extended hand in clear hesitance, but she eventually grasps it, clawed fingers closing around my fingers and shaking it. ¡°I am Little Water. No one who will become someone or die trying.¡±

    My smile stretches wider. ¡°A pleasure, I¡¯m sure.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-101

    ¡°Please, sit down,¡± I offer as I drop her hand. ¡°You can tell the others to make themselves comfortable. Are you hungry? Of course you are. What do you eat? Do you drink? Alcohol, I mean. Please tell me you do. The lord of the house has a horrible collection of wine we¡¯ll never make our way through but might be appreciated by a, uh, how do I say this. Virgin tongue?¡± At least to that of Howie¡¯s brews.

    ¡°We eat food. Preferably cooked,¡± Little Water says, a tension in her voice. Her tail lashes and the crowd behind her moves, shrugging off their cloaks. Do they have a secret tail language? ¡°I will refuse the wine.¡±

    ¡°Can I interest you in something milder? Tea? Juice?¡±

    ¡°Water is fine.¡±

    ¡°Fen.¡±

    Little Water¡¯s gaze follows my succubus as she leaves for the kitchen. ¡°Then you do control these monsters.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t mistreat you, did they?¡±

    ¡°I would never,¡± Geneva says, humor dripping from her tone.

    I don¡¯t believe her for a moment but, as Little Water doesn¡¯t make an accusation, I let the matter drop, motioning for my guest to sit beside me on one of the couches. The way she curls her tail around her waist as she sits is full of grace and somehow charming. Or maybe I¡¯m just determined to see the best of her. ¡°Now, I believe we have much to discuss.¡±

    ¡°Where is my human?¡±

    ¡°Blunt, aren¡¯t you?¡± I suppose that¡¯s better than talking in riddles. Unfortunately for her, I want to savor this conversation. ¡°I think we better set a few rules of engagement before we exchange words. The first rule.¡± I raise a finger for emphasis then wag it before her narrowing eyes. ¡°I ask the questions. While my unrivaled hospitality may have led you to believe otherwise, you are an unknown enemy that was caught trying to sneak into my home with hostile intentions. You don¡¯t have the right to ask anything. You should be thanking whatever higher power you believe in that I didn¡¯t execute you on the spot.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that look.¡± I chuckle as her glare intensifies. ¡°Or are you going to tell me that you¡¯d treat an enemy with so much courtesy? Go on.¡±

    ¡°¡­never,¡± she admits with reluctance.

    ¡°Anything else you want to say?¡±

    Her tongue, long and thin, flicks out with a little hiss before retreating behind her tightly pressed lips. ¡°I am humbled by your mercy, Lourianne Tome. Thank you for sparing me and mine. I will answer your questions.¡±

    Oh, that hurt to say. ¡°Call me Lou. And what about your friends?¡± I gesture to the other estrazi. I doubt I¡¯ll remember all of them, or even one, but I am curious about the estrazi naming conventions. Little Water is certainly unique.

    ¡°They are servants. Nameless.¡±

    I blink. ¡°None of the servants have names?¡±

    ¡°In the brood, one¡¯s name is earned. A female¡¯s name is a reflection of her talent. Servants must earn their names with their achievements.¡±

    ¡°Wait. Are you saying all male estrazi are servants?¡±

    ¡°Of course. What else would they be?¡±

    Haha, this is better than I hoped. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re interested in Khan with an attitude like that.¡±

    Her tail slaps the cushions of the couch. ¡°My human is nothing like the nameless. They are dull, empty shells. Some of them have talent but they cannot wield it on their own. The best are efficient in completing their tasks but never go beyond them. Khan¡­¡± Her eyes are unmistakably wistful as she speaks of him. ¡°He has vision, dreams. He is soft as the scaleless but there is also strength in him. Will. There is also his talent. No, my human is no nameless. He¡¯s special.¡±

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    Aw! ¡°Are the two of you lovers?¡± I ask while leaning forward, unable to contain my excitement.

    I don¡¯t know what reaction I expect from her, but it isn¡¯t raw confusion. ¡°Of course not,¡± she declares with the same tone as one explaining an evident reality to a clueless child.

    ¡­eh?

    ¡°But¡­why not?¡± A thousand questions are bouncing around my mind but that¡¯s the only thing I can force past my disbelief.

    ¡°Is this meant to be a joke?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    Her tail lashes faster, beating a steady rhythm on the poor cushion absorbing the consequences of her nervous temperament. ¡°What would be the point of mating with a human male? The pairing couldn¡¯t produce any offspring.¡±

    ¡°For pleasure?¡±

    She scoffs. Actually scoffs. ¡°Ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°The idea of sex for pleasure is¡­ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°My sisters say the act can be pleasurable, but it is an activity done in pursuit of a goal. There¡¯s no need to engage in it frivolously.¡±

    Oh, sweet saints in Paradise. ¡°Let me get this straight. You have never had sex with Khan and you¡¯re not in a romantic relationship.¡±

    Her tongue does the flicking thing again. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve never kissed him? Hugged him? Done anything intimate at all?¡±

    ¡°Kiss?¡±

    I cover my mouth with a hand as I struggle to keep in my laughter. ¡°Why in the soul-sucking Abyss did you chase him all this way if you¡¯re not together?¡± I ask once I can speak. I frankly can¡¯t understand it. And, from the quick glance I steal of Lancecain, standing far enough away to go unnoticed but close enough to hear every word, neither does he.

    ¡°My human is the key to the future. He is the son of the human leader in the north. I am the daughter of our leader. Through us, our people can finally have meaningful discourse. Learn from one another. Aid one another. Grow with each other. Aside from that, Khan has a way with the land. Together, we could build a new warren, one that spans the north. A glorious tribute to the majesties.¡±

    ¡°With the two of you¡­ruling together?¡±

    There is nothing subdued about her next hiss and her tail slaps the cushions with more force. ¡°Rule together with a male?! Are you¡ª" I can only imagine the insults she wants to hurl at me but she remembers the power imbalance between us and reigns herself in. ¡°I am no leader. My¡­there are many more deserving of such a role before me. But, in some future where I do inherit that position, there is only one ruler of the estrazi. One.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m harping on this, but I can¡¯t help it. You¡¯re not attracted to human males? At all? No desire to, er, mate with them? Not even a little bit?¡±

    ¡°No and I don¡¯t have much fondness for pointless endeavors.¡±

    Absolutely incredible. She isn¡¯t tracking down her one true love. She¡¯s hounding a valuable tool. I¡¯m not staring down a love-struck maiden. Oh, no. This is a ruthless political animal. As she said, she is going to be someone or die trying.

    I admit, I¡¯m less enthralled with her reasonings, it not being the fairytale I imagined, but it¡¯s still impressive. And there¡¯s the delicious anticipation of her admirers¡¯ reactions. Lancecain¡¯s brows are heavily furrowed and I¡¯m dying to ask him what he¡¯s thinking right now. Khan¡¯s reaction is sure to be amazing. A political animal, that man is not. I don¡¯t know about an estrazi¡¯s feelings about mating for fun or being attracted to people outside their species, but I can¡¯t believe a young man betrays his family, his own race, and volunteers to have his memory wiped, if his account can be believed, for anything other than love. She may think the idea is ridiculous, but I¡¯d bet my last crown he wants to mate with her.

    Watching that rejection will be¡­delicious.

    ¡°I suppose that deserves some answers.¡± That, and I need a little time to think about my next line of questioning, my expectations having been spectacularly subverted. I wave a hand at her. ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°Your eyes. Why are they that color?¡±

    ¡°Because I want them to be.¡±

    ¡°¡­nothing changed them for you?¡±

    ¡°Technically, my succubus changed them for me but under my direction. I¡¯m partial to purple.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Why are you so interested?¡±

    There¡¯s that hiss again. ¡°I thought it was my turn to ask questions.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve changed my mind. Answer the question.¡±

    ¡°Purple is¡­a bad omen to my people.¡±

    ¡°There are usually stories behind omens.¡± A story making her very nervous giving the pounding of her heart.

    She is reluctant to talk but with the pressure of my expectation weighing down on her, she opens up. ¡°My people believe in a¡­being. This being has great power and a bad temperament. Wherever it puts its influence, chaos and destruction inevitably follow. It is said that the agents of this being have a violet gaze.¡±

    Hm? A powerful being with a penchant for chaos? Violet?

    ¡­surely not. My divine father is an elemental, a creature from another realm. There¡¯s no way a bunch of lizards holed up in the north for the past five centuries have anything to do with him or me, his violet-gazed daughter.

    ¡­right?

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-102

    ¡°Tell me about¡ªwait.¡±

    I pause as Fen enters the room pushing a serving cart. The fare on it is simple, as all my servants have been too busy to properly stock the kitchen pantries with anything better. Several platters of sandwiches and pitchers of water. Nothing phenomenal but expertly prepared.

    ¡°May we?¡± Little Water asks.

    ¡°It was prepared for you.¡±

    Her tail leaves her lap and waves about. In response, the crowd of estrazi converges on the cart, Fen obligingly stepping out of the way. All the platters save one are removed and passed into the crowd before the cart is pushed alongside Little Water, one of the nameless pouring a tall glass of water before they retreat.

    ¡°Good?¡± I ask as the lady lizard tears into the food.

    She pauses, looking up from a half-gobbled sandwich. ¡°It is delicious. The brood cannot grow many vegetables in our underground farms. Food is fuel but food that tastes good is a treat.¡±

    ¡°Your home doesn¡¯t sound like much fun.¡±

    ¡°Duty comes before fun.¡± She gobbles down the rest of her sandwich. ¡°You had more questions for me.¡±

    ¡°Eager to answer them, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m hoping that you will be satisfied enough to answer my own again.¡±

    This girl. How quickly she simply accepts being under the power of my whims. I wonder, is that because she¡¯s a creature of logic and it¡¯s the logical course of action? Or is it a result of too much time around powerful people? She did say there were many others who would rule the estrazi before her, leading me to believe she¡¯s spent a long time as the metaphorical runt of the litter.

    ¡°Tell me about this being. The one who likes chaos.¡±

    Little Water regards me as she gobbles up another sandwich. I endure the silence, assuming she¡¯s gathering her thoughts while also parsing my own. I¡¯ve always planned to investigate my origins and those of my divine father. The hectic year hasn¡¯t left me much time to do so but here a clue is dropped into my lap. One that suggests that Cosmo is not the most benevolent being.

    Which isn¡¯t a surprise, given the first time I met the elemental, he murdered his summoner. However, the implication that he was involved in this world before and left such a lasting impact that a culture considers his mark, a violet gaze, a bad omen, going as far as to pass the knowledge down to even a self-admittedly unimportant heir, is intriguing. Maybe a little unsettling.

    ¡°I suppose there is no point in hiding the information,¡± she eventually says, one arm hugging the tail that¡¯s once again laid across her lap. ¡°If you truly want it, your monsters can simply take it from my head and I¡¯d rather not be on the bad end of the mental affinity. From what I¡¯ve seen, it¡¯s unpleasant.¡±

    ¡°I would never do that,¡± I snap, my voice hard with conviction.

    ¡°¡­maybe not. I suppose that bodes well for the world.¡± Her hand idly stokes the thin line of hair along the back of her tail. ¡°We don¡¯t know much about the Outsider. It¡¯s hard to know anything about a being that is not a part of this realm. All we know of it is what its agents say.¡±

    ¡°Have there been many of these agents?¡±

    ¡°That depends on who you ask. Before the¡­I believe the humans call it the Great War?¡±

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    I straighten up. What in the Abyss does Cosmo have to do with that?! ¡°If you¡¯re talking about the world-spanning war that shattered a continent, destroyed several kingdoms, and displaced many races, yes, we call that the Great War. Are you saying this Outsider caused it?¡±

    ¡°Not directly. The yellow¡ªLancecain told me you are a summoner.¡±

    Oh, for the love of the saints! Don¡¯t tell me my family is somehow a part of the cause of the worst tragedy in the history of the world too! And how much did Lancecain tell this woman? ¡°I have some knowledge of it.¡±

    ¡°Then you know the dangers of the realms beyond our own. Even if the creatures do not cross over, their influence can be fatal. The Outsider is the worst example. Most of these creatures only turn their attention to our world when a summoner foolishly invites them. The Outsider is different. Our records suggest that the being is far more invested in this realm. It is always watching, always waiting. And for a creature of its power, it doesn¡¯t need an invitation to spread its influence. It finds cracks from which it seeps in. Its voice. Sometimes its power.

    ¡°Some say that anything touched by the Outsider is its agent but that is too many to count. Most don¡¯t recognize the influence for what it is, attributing it to sudden flashes of inspiration or revelations induced by ingesting toxins.¡± She huffs, tail slapping the cushions. ¡°Most of my people¡¯s scholars don¡¯t consider them to be true agents, just unfortunate souls. Agents are those who can directly hear his voice or wield the Outsider¡¯s power.¡±

    ¡°Hear him?¡±

    Little Water¡¯s eyes flick toward Fen. ¡°Those with a sufficiently developed mental affinity and the proper knowledge to reach the Outsider can commune with it. Khan told me what you consider masters. A coefficient of 500 and paltry knowledge. Before the Great War, masters were those with thrice that power and knowledge passed down for generations. And there are those with the fate affinity. No. Your people call it the celestial affinity. We don¡¯t know why but all of them are somehow aware of the Outsider, though he doesn¡¯t deign to speak to all of them.

    ¡°Those with a direct connection to the Outsider are his true agents. That thing gives them knowledge, incredible knowledge, but it¡¯s poison. It corrupts their minds, their very beings. Without fail, they always become forces for chaos.¡±

    She hisses. ¡°No. Not chaos. Change. Upheaval. It would be unfair to judge the being as evil, to judge it at all by our standards. It is far beyond them. Unfortunately, change is chaotic, often violently so. And none were more violent than the greatest of its agents, some say the only true one as she wielded a fraction of the being¡¯s power. The Calamity.¡±

    By now, I¡¯m completely enthralled by Little Water¡¯s story. Her pause after mentioning this calamity is nothing short of annoying. It takes quite a bit of restraint to resist grabbing her and shaking the rest free. ¡°There¡¯s no point being hesitant now.¡± I shift closer, putting aside the errant thought of tracing her scales to see if they¡¯re as smooth as they look. ¡°Finish your story. Who is this Calamity? What did they do?¡±

    ¡°She. Ezossoa, the Righteous Flame. She was the sword of the majesties, the cleanser of horrors and foul acts. Until the Outsider corrupted her. She turned her flames against her family and the battle to subdue her destroyed the home of the majesties, the ripples of the conflict spreading throughout the entire world. That is what that being caused with its reckless interference.¡±

    ¡­saints.

    Cosmo¡¯s agent is a fucking dragon?!

    And a disgustingly strong one at that. She fought all the other dragons and just subduing her cost them a continent. Wait¡­

    ¡°If this¡­Ezoso, er¡ª"

    ¡°Ezossoa.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You said they subdued her. I don¡¯t know much about dragons, but I believe they are long-lived.¡±

    ¡°If you mean to ask if she¡¯s still alive, the answer is yes.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t they kill her?¡±

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t.¡± Her tail lashes with agitation. ¡°The Outsider¡¯s blessing gave Ezossoa a powerful regenerative ability. They chopped off her limbs, crushed her skull, burned her, flayed her. It didn¡¯t matter.¡±

    That sounds familiar.

    ¡°In the end, seven majesties sacrificed their power to imprison Ezossoa. So long as they live, she is trapped. But to ensure none would tamper with their magic, guardians were placed around the cage.¡±

    ¡°The estrazi,¡± I mutter with a flash of understanding. ¡°That¡¯s why you don¡¯t want humanity traipsing around the north. You¡¯re guarding the fucking dragon that started the Great War. That¡¯s the world-ending threat Khan warned me about, why he stopped me from going there.¡±

    Her eyes narrow. ¡°Yes. My father, he has the celestial affinity. It was his words that doomed Khan, as, supposedly, if my human was not sacrificed, you would have pushed the human army all the way to our warren, encountered Ezossoa, and the world would face another calamity.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-103

    ¡°It is rare for you to ask me to spar.¡±

    Across from me on the ruined Teppin lawn, Kierra stretches as she prepares for our bout. As for why I have willingly served myself up for my wife¡¯s violent pleasure, I blame the storm of thoughts going through my mind. There was plenty rattling about in my skull before the unexpected arrival of the estrazi but Little Water¡¯s tale has stuffed a titan in there to stir things up.

    If I¡¯m honest, I can¡¯t say I ever thought Cosmo was a ¡°good guy¡±, so to speak. I do see him as generous, but I¡¯m not blinded to the fact that my opinions are biased. However, I was fairly convinced that he was harmless. At least in the sense that his intentions are selfish, not intentionally hostile or destructive. After all, he didn¡¯t tell me to go out and raze the world. He asked that I shake things up, break the stagnant status quo.

    I guess, thinking on it a little more, shaking things up usually tends to break them. Saints, I knew from the moment we discovered my seven affinities that I was going to cause upheaval. My very existence is enough to start a war. And having power has shown me that I enjoy squashing so called veterans and master casters with barely any effort. It¡¯s a heady feeling.

    But it¡¯s terrifying to think that I might be the pawn in a scheme to destroy the world. Little Water¡¯s story reeks of a bias against Cosmo and his so-called agents but she seems pretty darn sure than anyone influenced by my divine father ends up causing rampant destruction if not going too mad to do anything at all.

    And this Ezossoa. Anything getting its claws into a dragon would have been a scary thought before I knew that a single dragon nearly destroyed the world. The continent the flying sovereigns of the world destroyed with their little spat was, according to Little Water who was taught from firsthand accounts of estrazi that lived through the Great War, set off a chain of disastrous events.

    Great waves as tall as mountains crashed against the shores of other continents, the water swallowing coastal cities. Magical storms devastated land all around the world. Those natural disasters ruined the ancient kingdoms, leaving them vulnerable to powerful migrating manabeasts fleeing their similarly ravaged homes.

    That Ezossoa is responsible for so much death, I can¡¯t even fathom the numbers. She permanently rearranged the world. And she was only able to do so because of the power given to her by the Outsider. The same power I have.

    Well, I sincerely hope my savior doesn¡¯t expect me to mirror her feat because there is no way that¡¯s happening. While the thought of having that much power and leaving such a mark is intriguing, I¡¯m not so callous as to unleash that kind of horror on the world. If I even could. My body is amazing but there is still a long gap between my prime form and a dragon¡¯s magic. A long, long one.

    Which brings me to my problem.

    My body.

    This Ezossoa, at the very least, has something like my body and she¡¯s had it for over five centuries. She has invaluable insights into what I am and what else I can do. I¡¯m itching to have a conversation with her, about me and Cosmo¡¯s agenda.

    Unfortunately, this conversation brings about something as horrific as the Great War. A second calamity. A prediction delivered by the estrazi¡¯s resident seer.

    Having confirmation that I¡¯m in the middle of a celestial caster¡¯s plots is beyond uncomfortable. Had this been a few scant months earlier in my life, it would be can¡¯t-breathe terrifying but there¡¯s so much on my mind, I don¡¯t have enough emotional capacity to bother with it.

    More important is the question of what I¡¯m going to do about the, given the evidence, deranged dragon. Because I have to admit, it doesn¡¯t feel good abandoning her to her fate. If she were given the same blessing as me, a piece of Cosmo, that makes her, in a very real sense, his daughter and my sister. Family. And she¡¯s been left in a prison, alone, for the last five hundred years. Completely isolated from the world.

    Could I go five years without leaving my bedroom? A decade without a bite of delicious food? A century without my lovers?

    I don¡¯t know what dragons do for fun but multiple lifetimes denied anything sounds like a fate worse than death. It doesn¡¯t help that every time I think of it, I think of Jac trapped in a disgusting dungeon and at the mercy of the interrogators. She¡¯s my cousin but she¡¯s the closest thing I can imagine to having a sister. If someone did that to her¡­

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    Saints, I can¡¯t imagine. Those thoughts incline me to give this dragon the chance to at least explain herself. Another temptation to engage in the fated conversation.

    Do I meet Ezossoa or do I avoid her? Do I trust in Cosmo or a random seer who thinks his agents, his daughters, are going to end the world? How amazingly cool would it be to have a dragon in my family tree? Do I release said dragon from her prison? If I don¡¯t, am I horrible person and, possibly worse, a horrible sibling?

    Oh saints. What if she knows about me? I don¡¯t see how she could but she¡¯s one of the strongest creatures in the world. Who knows what she¡¯s capable of? Or what our divine father has schemed?

    I doubt Cosmo cares one way or the other, it would have been pretty simple to ask me to rescue his daughter if that¡¯s what he wanted, but she could have, I don¡¯t know, sensed my rebirth. She could know about me and be waiting for me to rescue her. Fucking Abyss, she could be pressing against the walls of her prison right now, hoping with every moment that the next moment will be when I show up¡ª

    Kierra¡¯s laugh brings me out of my thoughts. One silver brow rises when she notices my gaze. ¡°Oh, you are done thinking? To think the day you approach a brawl with me casually would come so quickly.¡±

    Hey, now. What¡¯s with that tone? ¡°Ah, sorry. There¡¯s a lot to think about.¡± I wave a hand at her. ¡°Come at me.¡± Violence has a way of focusing the mind. Hopefully, throwing a few punches will put the mess in my head in order, or at least quiet them.

    Kierra glares at me.

    Did I say something wrong?

    I must have because when she dashes at me, there is a rare intensity about her. Her usual ferocity is replaced by quiet focus as she throws a series of cruel blows. Expecting a friendly wrestle, the rather strong blow to my nose takes me by surprise. While my body is a patchwork of parts, it is designed around a human, with all its advantages and weaknesses. It takes a lot more muscle than before, but hit me hard enough in a soft spot and it hurts the same.

    ¡°Ow!¡± I stumble back with watering eyes, one hand hovering over my bleeding nose. ¡°What was that for?¡±

    ¡°Just trying to help, my love,¡± she says in a worryingly cold tone before lunging at me. My joking endeavor becomes a lot more than I bargained for as Kierra¡¯s serious assault pushes out my chaotic thoughts. Our normal contest of strength is replaced with me slowly growing worried as I hastily defend against her trying to take me apart. No testing if some form of hers will perform better than mine. No tackling me to the ground. No gimmicks.

    Just Kierra and her magic, her whole body enveloped in a soft green glow, giving her the speed to weave out of the way of my own strikes and enough power to make sure every blow hurts. She doesn¡¯t hold back at all, ruthlessly taking advantage of every opening, incorporating feints, and aiming for soft spots, including my eyes.

    It¡¯s a fact that she has more experience than me. I could end this fight in a moment with my elemental form, but this is a challenge. To face her on equal footing. She gives me exactly what I need, so I accept the impossible restrictions.

    At least I still have my endurance. If I didn¡¯t heal as fast as I do, it would have only taken her a few minutes put me on my back. As it is, despite her making me bleed and twisting several things out of place, and even breaking my arm once, I manage to keep up with her for an hour.

    After that, I call for a stop, as I don¡¯t want her to completely exhaust her mana. I managed a few hits throughout my beating but that¡¯s gone with a flash of her magic. A quick transformation to my elemental form and back does the same for me. Afterwards, we stand together in companionable silence, Kierra¡¯s previous intensity replaced by an air of smugness. That happy to win, huh?

    It¡¯s funny. She wants me to be strong and knows I have far more potential than her, but she still hates to lose.

    ¡°Lou?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± I ask cheerfully, enjoying the quiet, both of the night and in my head. I¡¯m sure my worries will return any moment but for now, it¡¯s peaceful.

    ¡°You should do what you want.¡±

    I glance at her to find her staring at me, eyes an equal blend of green and gold in the soft moonlight. ¡°Guess you heard all of that with the lizards then?¡± We weren¡¯t trying to make a secret of our conversation and those long ears aren¡¯t a decoration.

    ¡°Mm. None control your fate.¡±

    ¡°What if I end up wanting to unleash her?¡±

    ¡°Then it will be fine.¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°I know you, Lou. You would never do anything to endanger us. If you release this Ezossoa, it will be because you know we are perfectly safe. I cannot speak for the world, but we will be fine. You said it yourself, did you not? The best way to deal with a seer is to pretend they do not exist. Simply act on what is before you.¡±

    Sigh. She¡¯s right, isn¡¯t she? At least they were my words first. ¡°I¡¯ve got to meet her, Kii.¡±

    ¡°I figured you would want to. I am also interested in speaking with a dragon. All know of the world¡¯s sovereigns, but they rarely deign to reveal themselves to other races.¡±

    ¡°The estrazi aren¡¯t going to be happy about that.¡± The question is, what will Little Water think about my decision? Can I convince her to convince her family to allow the meeting? Can I use her as a meat shield to stop their attacks, if it should come to that? Or maybe I should help her with her human-estrazi alliance?

    ¡°Shh.¡± I¡¯m suddenly pulled into a hug, one of Kierra¡¯s hands gently coming through my hair. ¡°You have made your decision. The rest is for when winter returns. Now, we will deal with this city. Then perhaps a vacation. Somewhere where we are not known, hm?¡±

    ¡°Saints, that sounds amazing.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-104

    ¡°Gather around everyone. No need to be shy, we¡¯re only plotting mass murder.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to sound so damn happy about it,¡± Alana grumbles. She doesn¡¯t see how strained my smile is as she raises a towel to wipe the sweat from her brow. I¡¯m not happy at all. The whole situation is aggravating and a little sickening but pretending it¡¯s another crazy adventure, treating as something to laugh about, helps. A little. Tomorrow is Saintsday, the appointed hour. I¡¯ll take whatever I can get.

    We¡¯re currently gathered in Lord Teppin¡¯s study, the account books and I assume other important papers across his large desk cleared to make room for a map of the city. Joining me is Kierra, Geneva, Alana, and the unexpected addition, Little Water.

    When I explained to the lady lizard that we haven¡¯t begun our work on Khan because we¡¯re preoccupied with the hunters, her logical mind offered her assistance after a short moment of deliberation. The quicker we conclude the March, the quicker she gets what she wants, and that¡¯s the end of it. Saints, I¡¯d say she¡¯s the most eager of us. After all, we are working on behalf of Victory and helping us could help further her ambitions of a human-estrazi alliance in the north.

    I wonder what the king will think when he hears of it?

    ¡°The Swords¡¯ meeting will take place here.¡± I jab the map with a finger not far from the city¡¯s eastern gate. ¡°According to our sneaky imp, we know that the building is a warehouse used by the Richard & Sons merchant group. Who are they? Irrelevant.¡±

    ¡°No detail of an enemy is irrelevant,¡± Little Water says. ¡°If not useful today, it may be tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°They are not enemies, they are nuisances. Nevermind them.¡± Little Water bows her head and holds her tongue. ¡°Good. Anyway, these Richard & Sons are hosting a party tomorrow night for something or other. It¡¯s being used as a cover for the meeting that will be taking place in their basement.¡± The guilds really love their basements.

    ¡°Getting in should be fairly easy,¡± Alana says as she drapes her towel over her neck. ¡°We¡¯ll simply blend in with the rest of the party¡ªah.¡± Her eyes cut to Kierra who grins at her. ¡°On second thought, we¡¯re going to have to force our way in.¡±

    ¡°You wound me, star. I am capable of subtle means.¡±

    ¡°Getting in isn¡¯t the issue,¡± I say, wrangling their attention back to me. Saints, it¡¯s like trying to focus a bunch of cats. ¡°The issue is the surroundings.¡± My finger traces a circle around the building in question. ¡°Not a block away are residences. Considering we are about to ambush a force of several experienced casters, the fighting is likely to spread. Like¡­¡± I trace another, wider circle that includes several more buildings. ¡°The goal of our attack is to break the back of the Swords but it¡¯s pointless if we turn the entire city against us in the process.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no quicker way to turn people against you than killing innocents,¡± Alana adds. ¡°Even accidentally.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! Which is why we need to do something about the people likely to be caught in our crossfire. As such, I suggest we split into two teams.¡± Initially, I was torn between who should do what but with the inclusion of the estrazi, things are made much simpler. ¡°One group shall interrupt the meeting. While they do, the second shall rally the residents in the area to leave. As for how, my best suggestion is fire.¡±

    ¡°Burning down people¡¯s homes isn¡¯t going to make them happy,¡± Alana says. ¡°We are trying to avoid that, aren¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be a big fire.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s a small one, they¡¯ll try to put it out.¡¯

    I pause, considering the point. ¡°Then what do you propose?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°I¡¯ve no clue. Victorians don¡¯t run from anything.¡±

    Point. ¡°Anyone else?¡±

    ¡°A gang of strange creatures terrorizing the neighborhood will certainly cause them to flee,¡± Kierra remarks with a look to Little Water. ¡°As the estrazi have never been seen before, the city would not connect their appearance to us should we keep them hidden until the negotiations are done.¡±

    ¡°It will also draw the attention of the guard,¡± Alana adds. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯d want to be anywhere near us but since they won¡¯t know, they¡¯ll swarm the area. There¡¯s also the matter of the hunters that¡¯ll be lurking about.¡±

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    ¡°You think there will be?¡± I ask.

    She nods. ¡°The Swords launched an attack against the Shields, causing expensive damage and claiming the life of a prominent member of their rivals. Retaliation is expected under these circumstances. Besides, they might also know that Slaid leaked the location to you. If I were them, I¡¯d have sentries posted in the neighborhood with some means of alerting them about enemies and a large force standing by in case a battle breaks out.¡±

    My finger taps the map as I think on the matter.

    ¡°My summoner¡ª"

    ¡°Shush,¡± I tell the succubus without looking at her. If she¡¯s surprised by my action, she doesn¡¯t show it and obeys the order completely, quieting both her voice and her thoughts. As Talia said, the only revenge against a succubus is to be better and deny her any hold on my future. I¡¯m far from that but what I can do now is set stricter boundaries upon her. Such as quieting her until I ask for her opinion.

    I¡¯ve been thinking on many of Talia¡¯s words. Particularly, that succubi are creatures of intention. Every word spoken, every twitch of their fingers, and every breath is within their control. I know they are schemers by nature but, despite that understanding, I still found myself underestimating them. Or perhaps it would be better to say I haven¡¯t given them the attention they deserve. To contemplate every move as a perfectly executed manipulation and wonder at the motives behind it.

    It isn¡¯t unusual for Geneva to offer a suggestion while I¡¯m contemplating a problem. I merely saw it as the actions of a servant ingratiating herself to a master, working to earn my favor and larger pieces of myself. But could it have a deeper meaning? Of course.

    When she is around, I find myself not needing to contemplate problems deeply. Why should I, when I know the succubus already has a flawless plan prepared, one that has taken into account every circumstance and variable I can imagine and many I can¡¯t? However, there is nothing more dangerous than to stop thinking while in the presence of a succubus.

    I¡¯m no scholar. Neither are any of the people gathered around the table. But, we are not useless. This is a problem we can solve without supping the poisoned wine that is Geneva¡¯s wisdom. Or, if we must call on her, it will be with directed intention. She will learn that she is not in charge. It is not enough to contract her. She, and the other residents of Burning Earth, must be tamed.

    Otherwise, they¡¯ll simply have to go.

    I hope you¡¯re paying attention to my thoughts.

    ¡°The short time frame is a problem,¡± I grumble. ¡°Otherwise, we could lure them out.¡± Advertise a free show? A spontaneous festival even. I would much rather be known as the noble who throws parties for commoners than the noble who unexpectedly razes neighborhoods. ¡°Unfortunately, we are stuck utilizing fear. It¡¯s a risk but fire is the best option I think.¡±

    There¡¯s something instinctive about a giant blaze that can strike fear even in grown men. Besides that, a large enough blaze will stymie the hunters too. ¡°The city won¡¯t be happy about us burning down homes but we can take steps to preserve life. That¡¯s where you come in.¡± I nod to Little Water. ¡°As for our reputation, it¡¯s going to take a hit either way. The best we can manage is to try and sway the story. Make sure people know that the guilds have driven us to violence. Saints, we can say that the Swords are the ones responsible for the fire. They¡¯ve already done that kind of thing.¡±

    ¡°One of our recognizable members should help with the evacuation alongside the estrazi,¡± Kierra says. ¡°It will be easier to sway them if they come to trust us rather than attributing their safety to faceless strangers of heroic disposition.¡±

    She smiles at the look that I give her. ¡°My kin are exceptionally straightforward in important matters, but I can think of no culture completely free of such tactics. Especially amongst women. I am no, hm, how you would say social butterfly, but I am familiar with the principles. I recommend that our star take on the role of savior.¡±

    And with a flash of insight, I realize what she¡¯s doing. The direct assault on the Swords isn¡¯t very dangerous for the powerful members of our family. It certainly would be for Alana. However, there¡¯s no way I can convince her to stay behind or at least not without greatly hurting her feelings. This plan gives her something meaningful to do while keeping her mostly out of harm¡¯s way.

    ¡°Better, it will combat the Swords¡¯ recruiting methods. They¡¯re gathering support by asserting that Victory is full of lunatics come to ransack the city. The tale of a James daughter heroically battling flames to save the poor commoners disregarded by the guilds in their prideful defiance is going to hurt those efforts.¡±

    Alana narrows her eyes. For a moment, I think that sharp gaze is going to pierce our little deception and she will demand a more bloodthirsty role. I don¡¯t know if she figures us out, but she decides not to combat the issue, turning those dangerous eyes away to stare at the map. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll also stop anyone from coming too close. The guard¡¯ll be easy enough to convince. The problem will be the stronger hunters.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to hold back guildmasters. In fact, please don¡¯t try.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t but, they¡¯ll come. Soon. With the state of the city, they can¡¯t ignore any crisis.¡±

    Saints, this is tough. ¡°I trust you¡¯ll be able to handle it.¡± The thought of leaving her to face master casters that aren¡¯t very happy with us alone, or at least without me to protect her, makes me queasy but her shining eyes are almost enough to make up for it. ¡°Then the group in charge of the distraction will be Alana, Little Water, and Bell. Any objections?¡±

    My eyes go to the lady lizard, but she simply stares back dispassionately. ¡°Good. That will leave myself, Kierra, and Geneva for the actual assault. Fen will remain here to watch over the house. May the saints bless our endeavors.¡±

    ¡°Ancestors willing.¡±

    ¡°The Great Spirit blesses those that do for themselves.¡±

    ¡°By the guidance of the majesties.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-105

    What does one wear to a slaughter?

    After a fitful night of sleep, on my part and no one else¡¯s, a small point of embarrassment despite the logical part of my mind insisting there¡¯s nothing wrong with being hesitant over taking lives and that I¡¯m not doing myself any favors comparing my reactions to the temperaments of my unusual lovers, the sun dawns on the fated day.

    Saintsday is meant to be a time for reflection. Some say it is the time when the saints turn their gazes to the world, evaluating what we have done throughout the week. Some see it metaphorically, saying it is up to the individual to judge themselves as the saints would and improve on their faults.

    I wonder what they would think of what we plan to do. Did the heroes of humanity ever face such choices? Or were their journeys simple, their enemies clear as they purged the continent of dangers to the fledgling Harvest kingdom?

    I wonder, if Paradise is real, if it has anything to do with me anymore? After all, it is the afterlife for humans, presided over by human heroes. I am far from my humble beginnings. I wonder, if to them, will I be no different from the monsters they made their legends slaying? Will I never be reunited with Father?

    It¡¯s sober thoughts like that and more that darken my mood throughout the day. Far too soon, night falls and finds me in front of the lord¡¯s dresser now stuffed with my clothes, once again contemplating the proper dress for an occasion. It seems disrespectful to intrude upon a meeting of importance and murder its attendees in common clothes. Almost as if I see the whole event as trivial. But what is the point of dressing up? I doubt the hunters I bludgeon and shred will give a damn that I dressed up for them.

    Is this just a vanity project? Saints, if they¡¯re watching, must detest me for this little act. I wouldn¡¯t be welcomed amongst the best of humanity, even if not for my transformation and it¡¯s ridiculous to think otherwise.

    Giggling announces Rolly before she appears over my head, yellow as a flower. She flies for a moment before settling on top of my head. She crawls to the edge of my brow and hangs on by my hair to look me in the eye. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± she asks, wings flexing and head cocked to the side.

    ¡°What does yellow mean?¡±

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t spoil the mystery! Really, Lou. You ask everyone¡¯s advice but mine. Aren¡¯t we partners? Come on. Let me helllp.¡±

    I don¡¯t ask because I dread what she will say. It¡¯s not that the lueorale is sinister like my succubi or savage like my elf. She is something just as bad, or perhaps worse. Theatrical. Whimsical. Silly, but not childish. The opposite of my current mood. making it hard to appreciate.

    ¡°Coooome on.¡±

    Sigh. Then again, those same qualities make it hard to be harsh with the creature. ¡°I¡¯m debating what I should wear while killing my enemies and if it¡¯s horrible to be thinking such a thing.¡±

    ¡°Horrible? Of course not!¡± She lets go of my hair in favor of flying in front of me. The swirling colors of her face are featureless but it¡¯s easy enough to discern her mood from her tone and I think I¡¯m learning what the colors of her body mean. The yellow brightening and gaining a tinge of pink means she¡¯s excited, very much so. ¡°This is a terribly important question!¡±

    This is a bad idea. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Of course! What makes a person, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Is that a serious question?¡±

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    ¡°It is~ Humor me. Tell me, what makes you notice one person over another? What makes a person memorable?¡±

    ¡°Er, I suppose¡­their face?¡± So I¡¯m shallow, Abyss take me.

    Rolly giggles. ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°I suppose¡­their demeanor. What they are doing and how they are doing it.¡±

    ¡°Yes. How you do something matters.¡± She flies closer and lays one of her small hands upon the end of my nose. ¡°Did you know that the villain is the most important character in any story?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the hero?¡±

    ¡°Nope! Heroes are easy. Predictable. They march ever onward with daring and bravery to right wrongs and rescue maidens in need. See, for a hero, it doesn¡¯t matter what they do or what they look like. The crowd, the people, will love them as they love what they do. You need not be smart or beautiful or personable or pitiable if you can slay monsters. You need not make hard decisions or compromise, as you are righteousness and justice personified. Oh, heroes have it easy.

    ¡°But villains? Their actions are detestable. The crowd, the world even, is inclined to hate them. For them to be anything other than a bad memory, they must compensate in every other area of their life. They must be clever, charming, powerful, and memorable. Think of any play you have ever seen. Who had the more dashing costume? The hero from humble beginnings? Or the villain that had conquered the world?¡±

    ¡°The villain.¡± She¡¯s right but I don¡¯t understand what she¡¯s trying to say. ¡°What does that have to do with me?¡±

    ¡°Everything, my summoner! You mean to kill your enemies tonight?¡±

    I wince. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Then, think of how the story will be told tomorrow. Imagine being known as the horrible woman who ruined a party, replacing the cheery music with screams of pain and terror, slaughtering dozens of innocents before absconding into the night.¡±

    My brows furrow. It¡¯s not the reputation I would want for myself given a choice but there¡¯s no way around it.

    ¡°Now, imagine another version of the story. A tale of a beautiful woman who appeared at a party and breathed into it life and wonder. A woman who walked through the door with a beauty on each arm and more trailing in her wake. A woman who caused all in attendance to go red in the face, the men with anger and the women with want.

    ¡°After charming half the room, she reveals a secret meeting taking place beneath their feet. What¡¯s this? Hunters skittering underfoot like rats, plotting her demise. A foolish action, as nothing escapes her gaze.

    ¡°Like cornered animals, they bare their fangs and assault her. But she is untouchable, an existence far beyond even master casters. With one hand, she slaps them about like errant children, the hunters paying for their audacity with their lives. Then, she strolls away from the destruction with a smile, the crowd giving way before her like peasants before royalty. Or sheep before a wolf. Do you see the difference?¡±

    ¡°One story is much longer than the other?¡± I grouse.

    ¡°Noooo,¡± she whines playfully before laughing. ¡°One is glamorous. It takes a horrendous event and makes it into something spectacular. It turns a villain, someone to be despised, into an idol. A villain, a good one, is meant to appeal to our dark desires. Everyone wants to rescue the helpless and be admired for their saintly qualities, sure, but they also want to crush their enemies underfoot. They want to have a once-in-a-lifetime love, of course, but they also want to be desired by a sea of admirers.¡±

    The lueorale¡¯s color changes from yellow-pink to scarlet, then to scarlet mixed with black, a color I¡¯ve never seen before. The strange coloring is matched by an even stranger tone, one that is dark and sultry.

    ¡°To make things plain, my summoner, if you must be a villain, then you must be the pinnacle of villainy. An evil so fantastic that even the good of heart are forced to admire it and are tempted away from their saintly paths. Will it make what you do any more moral? No. A change in wardrobe can¡¯t soothe your conscience. But at least you can take pride, should you choose to, in that you are no common criminal.

    ¡°If you must have a reputation as a bad element, then let it be as the best of the worst, the villain unmatched by any other, the evil that eclipses even the greatest hero, a darkness that swallows the brightest star. Shield yourself with grandeur, Lou. Presence, opulence, and relevance. They can define an action more than an action itself. And it starts with your choice tonight. Whether you wear the clothes of a laborer meant to do a dark work or the finery of a noble nobly conducting insidious deeds.¡±

    An evil so fantastic that even the saintly are forced to admire it, huh?

    That¡­doesn¡¯t sound too bad.

    Better to take pride in something about tonight than wallow in self-recrimination. It¡¯s theatrical, whimsical maybe, but better a little whimsy than the bog of pity I¡¯ve been struggling to claw my way out of. ¡°I should ask your advice more often.¡±

    Rolly¡¯s laughter echoes throughout the room as I pull out clothes from the dresser.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-106-Mr. Richard

    Mr. Richard, and he was Mr. Richard to everyone, including his friends and sometimes to his family, looked over his party with a pleased eye. He wasn¡¯t one for extravagance, being a practical man with few, practical vices, but the party was not a mere exercise in fun. In Harvest, there were all kinds of power and it was hard to rank them, as supremacy was more often than not dictated by circumstances, but Mr. Richard thought that gold was the most versatile. Something about wealth appealed to all. Currency was a language that transcended all tongues and the bridge that connected all places. Better, it was a power anyone could wield, not trapped behind the barriers of natural advantages like noble blood or magical talent.

    The party was an exercise in power. The people standing about the tables and having their fill of drink were some of the most important people in the city and beyond. Beneath the cover of pleasant music, many important negotiations were taking place. Trade agreements, most of them related to war matters such as weapons, rations, and alchemical ingredients.

    Mr. Richard meant to engage in many such negotiations himself. Having worked closely with the guilds since he was a boy apprenticed to his father, he knew how much money there was to be made in a conflict. Yet, the most valuable commodity he sought were the conversations themselves. As the host, his people were sprinkled throughout the event, disguised as simple waiters and pretty faces. The information they would mine from the partygoers was almost as valuable as gold.

    The only damper on the evening was the affair taking place below them. The Richard family had lived in the city for generations. He knew better than most that one could not do business, not any proper business of large enterprise, without going through the guilds. Normally, that constituted a bribe in the right pockets, but Mr. Richards¡¯ father had taken things further. He tied their fates to one of the guilds, the Shadow Wolves. It boosted revenue, as hunting was a profitable business, and earned them a small amount of prestige but it came with obligations. Namely, whatever the guild wanted, including hosting illicit meanings.

    Mr. Richard wasn¡¯t very happy about the arrangement. Conflict was profitable but only if one could carefully step around the edges of it. Being caught in the middle meant ruin. And this particular conflict was the most ruinous of all. The rumors had turned into casual conversation. The whole city knew that war waited on the horizon, ready to charge against the great walls of the city should they make one false move. Their opponents wouldn¡¯t be dumb manabeasts, whose bodies they had made a business of harvesting for centuries, but the madmen of the north. No, that wouldn¡¯t be good for business at all.

    Instead of deescalating the situation, like rational people with any measure of foresight, his backers were organizing a resistance in his basement. If he could, Mr. Richard would have pulled up stakes and left, but his company was far too entrenched to do so. If Quest burned, so did he. All he could do was grit his teeth and go about his own business.

    He managed to do so with an affable demeanor. At least until the commotion erupted near the entrance.

    Mr. Richard was in the middle of a somewhat animated discussion about the rising price of steel and the merits of having crafters on the payroll as opposed to simply buying their works when he noticed a faint shouting coming from the other side of the room. Frowning, he motioned to Bertrand, his middle son. His oldest had proved incompetent, shucking the business and all his talent for it away for the so-called wonders of love. Bertrand didn¡¯t have his brother¡¯s ability, but he was eager, taking to shadowing his father in all manners to gain experience.

    ¡°Go and see to whatever that is,¡± he whispered fiercely, annoyed at the possibility that some unexpected drama would ruin his evening. His son didn¡¯t have the chance to offer a response before the yelling grew so loud, it was impossible for anyone to ignore, followed by a loud crash as the door was thrown open.

    Or better described, broken down. One of his guards, a hunter loaned by the Wolves as they had been quite paranoid about the security of their event, was laid out on the floor, looking as if he¡¯d been used as a battering ram. The other guards were nowhere to be seen. Given the circumstances, Mr. Richard could only guess the met a similar fate.

    ¡°Well, this is¡­quaint.¡±

    The ones responsible for the destruction strolled through the shattered door, stepping over the fallen hunter as if he were another obstacle of the road, no different from a stone or a fallen sign. Mr. Richard recognized the intruders. He would be surprised if anyone within the city didn¡¯t recognize them, so widely distributed was their description.

    They were a group of three. The most recognizable of them, the one that could never be mistaken for any other or forgotten, was the elf. The princess, some said, though just as many said that was a misunderstanding. As a merchant, someone who understood the value of information, he of course knew the truth. Kierra Atainna was royalty, in the sense that she was the blood of a reigning monarch, but their culture did not have the same concept of monarchy as Harvest. Being royalty did not make her a princess or heir to an elven throne.

    She was quite the character. A beauty, but a ferocious one, with a beastly tilt to her eyes. Her strange coloring didn¡¯t detract from her charm but added to it, the green of her skin and the silver of her hair a startling contrast that drew the eye. Along with her dress. The people of Harvest ranged from the very conservative souls of the capital to the beastly tribes of the south. The elf¡¯s dress, with its lack of sleeves, its plunging neckline that showed off a scandalous amount of her bust, and its short skirt, spoke to morals that leaned closer to the profane tribes.

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    If Mr. Richard¡¯s favorite lady companion wore such a number, he¡¯d give her his entire coin purse but if he saw his daughter wearing the same, he¡¯d faint with anger. Just his luck, the damn girl would have a twin made within a week, given the way the girl¡¯s eyes were gleaming. The green woman had some modesty at least, draping the fur of some fox-like creature around her bare shoulders but she didn¡¯t seem to care one way or the other about the eyes on her, lips turned up in a smug smile as she was escorted across the room.

    The woman escorting her was not quite as distinctive but equally well known. Dying one¡¯s hair was a popular trend amongst older ladies, whose main pastimes were chasing beauty and youth. For a while, the young ladies of Rosentheim had also took to dyes, in more vibrant colors. Gold streaks in darker hair was the most common, followed by darker streaks in auburn hair. None had done something as ridiculous as coloring their hair purple.

    Mainly because of the cost. Some colors were rather cheap to make, like browns and darker greens, the color made from plants. Others, like blue and purple, required far rarer components. Rare meant expensive.

    Purple was a color that screamed money. To waste it on something as frivolous as hair was an unthinkable expense for anyone. Even those that could afford such would never think to do it, held back by common sense. The cost to continuously reapply it could feed a family of five, comfortably.

    However, Mr. Richard, being a man of information, knew that it was no dye job, just as her eyes were not a trick of the light. It was her natural coloring, permanently altered by the physical affinity. A preposterous thing. The masters of Harvest struggled enough returning a body to its natural state. There wasn¡¯t even a proper field of study for altering it for cosmetic reasons. But that was the beauty of the pure affinity. It didn¡¯t require study. One simply wished of the world and reality contorted itself to said whim.

    So. Lourianne Tome¡¯s distinctive violet highlights and eyes didn¡¯t make her an imbecile running down a steep slope straight into poverty, but she was certainly vain. And still not opposed to spending money. That was obvious from the quality of her clothes.

    Shirt, pants, and a jacket were standard formal wear but there was a long field of quality between something a porter put on at short notice and what the young noblewoman wore. Everything was of fine quality, but it was the jacket that really stood out. Along the arms, a masterful seamstress had somehow stitched images of paper, bent and curled as if being blown by a strong wind. It was hard enough to convey such natural movement with paints, let alone fabric. It was a masterpiece. Better than Mr. Richard¡¯s own jacket and its paltry mix of reds, oranges, and gold. That was the crux of the matter. It was¡­unseemly for a host to be outshone at his own party, especially by someone without an invitation.

    By comparison, the last to enter was unremarkable. Oh, the way her human legs transitioned into hooves and the gray skin were certainly remarkable but her simple white dress was of average quality and her head was bowed, giving off the impression a meek lamb following in the wake of lions. Her demure demeanor encouraged one¡¯s eyes to slide right off her. Which of course meant Mr. Richard was immediately wary of her. The quiet ones were always the ones to watch out for.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see them out,¡± Bertrand said with a ridiculous confidence, taking a step toward the women moving deeper into the room. The old merchant wanted to smack his son upside the head for such stupidity but limited his reaction to catching the eager man by the arm.

    ¡°How do you suppose to do that?¡± Mr. Richard asked.

    ¡°I shall order them out.¡±

    ¡°And should they refuse?¡±

    ¡°That is what guards are for.¡±

    Mr. Richard sighed. ¡°Do you not recognize those women?¡± He rethought having his son inherit his company as Bertrand gave him a look of confusion, having considered unleashing his son¡¯s wicked intellect and bad temper on the kingdom¡¯s merchants many a time, as he sighed. ¡°What is the most valuable thing in the world?¡±

    ¡°Er¡­information.¡±

    It irked that the boy, man that he was he would always seem a boy, especially with his absentmindedness, had needed two long moments to think but Mr. Richard was gratified he got the question right. ¡°Having the information is not enough. Being able to apply it to your decision-making is also important. That means dredging up relevant facts at the appropriate times, not simply reading and memorizing them.¡±

    ¡°I take it they are important?¡±

    ¡°Those are the infamous ladies causing our backers so many problems.¡±

    Bertrand¡¯s eyes widened with shock and were held in their state by fear. ¡°Do they know¡­¡±

    ¡°Perhaps they have an inkling.¡± He couldn¡¯t imagine anything but a gathering of traders interesting the women. He didn¡¯t think they knew of the meeting in his basement, otherwise they would never be so casual walking through the front door, but they had to know about his connection to the guilds. Hopefully, they had merely come to ask questions. ¡°Either way, what is our duty?¡±

    ¡°To protect our profits.¡±

    ¡°And how do we do that?¡±

    His son paused. ¡°Making sure our connections aren¡¯t killed in a fight between master casters?¡±

    Mr. Richard clapped his son on the shoulder. ¡°I will talk to them. You are going to discretely, very discretely, make your way to the entrance of the basement and impress upon our guests that I don¡¯t want my warehouse burned down. Then you will go to the office, take any important papers, and run for the guards. Impress upon them the urgency of the situation but do not return.¡±

    Bertrand frowned. ¡°I won¡¯t leave you in danger, Father.¡±

    Mr. Richard was a little grateful for his son¡¯s concern, he¡¯d be a cold man not to be, but mostly he was annoyed. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for sentiment. There¡¯s nothing you can do to protect me, but you can protect my legacy. Go. Now.¡±

    Whether it was logic that swayed him or the habit of responding to his father¡¯s stern voice, Bertrand followed the order. Mr. Richard waved down one of the nervous hunters meant to serve as security and told the man to grab his gawking daughter and get her out of the building, by force if necessary. Then, assured his family was taken care of, the merchant squared his shoulders and marched toward the interlopers.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-107-Mr. Richard

    He wasn¡¯t intimidated.

    As a merchant who¡¯d braved the kingdom¡¯s roads and wilderness for decades, he¡¯d seen far too much to let three women, no matter their reputation or ability, intimidate him. By the saints¡¯ grace, he wouldn¡¯t lose his nerve before the king himself.

    That said, Mr. Richard had to admit that closing the distance did nothing to diminish their presence. Rather, it enhanced it. Except, there was something about the noblewoman. The merchant couldn¡¯t put his finger on it but something about her¡­irked him. Which was surprising. She was beautiful, just as attractive as her wife, her clothes tailored to show off her moderate curves wonderfully despite being masculine in design. Mr. Richard, a connoisseur of pretty faces, should have been interested but the closer he got, the more the woman irked him.

    Despite that, he pasted a smile on his face. Both of their distinct gazes tracked him as he approached. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his gut churned under their scrutiny but there was nothing but cheerfulness in his tone as he greeted them. ¡°The saints bless me to have such beautiful ladies grace my party.¡±

    ¡°See love? He¡¯s happy to see us.¡± The Tome woman chuckled. ¡°She had some silly idea that barging in unannounced would lead to trouble, but I told her to perish the thought. Everyone likes a nice surprise.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± The elf ran a hand through the Tome woman¡¯s hair. ¡°My Lou loves to gloat.¡±

    ¡°I do. Almost as much as I love a good party. I¡¯ve got a nose for it, see?¡± She tapped a nostril, her smile widening. ¡°Here we are, enjoying the night, when I catch a whiff of cheap perfume, bad wine, and flattery. At first, I couldn¡¯t believe my nose. I mean, what kind of crazy bastards would throw a party when the city is under threat of war?¡±

    Mr. Richard inwardly winced at her volume. Part of the reason for his party was to reassure his out-of-town partners that the mess with the north wouldn¡¯t hurt business. The last thing he wanted was anyone or anything reminding them of the madness.

    ¡°Well, I figured whoever they were, they were my kind of crazy! Though seeing this¡­I might have been a little hasty.¡±

    It was a struggle to keep his polite demeanor, but he managed, just barely. ¡°Our gathering may be humble but partake of it as you like. There are some people who¡ª"

    ¡°Humble! No need to be coy.¡± The elf leaned forward and winked. ¡°We know the real party is below.¡±

    The Tome woman chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s those ears. Not just there to make her look pretty, eh?¡±

    Mr. Richard surreptitiously looked around the room. Seeing no trace of either of his children, the largest knot of tension in his abdomen relaxed but his heart pounded, spurred on by fear for his life. No matter what, he couldn¡¯t allow the two of them into the basement. ¡°You misunderstand. There¡¯s nothing going on down below.¡±

    ¡°Nothing? Buddy, let me tell you, my ears are almost as good as my wife¡¯s. There¡¯s either a party going on downstairs or the worst rat problem in the kingdom. You got rats, Mr. Richard? I hope you at least don¡¯t deal in anything organic.¡±

    ¡°It is not rats, my love, unless the vermin have learned to imitate us.¡± His attention was taken up by the elf as she moved closer to him, dropping her voice further. ¡°I can hear much more than you think. The glasses clinking together in a toast. The footsteps of the shifting crowd. The murmur of conversations. But no music.¡± Sweat beaded on his brow as she smiled, revealing incisors that were white as pearl but too large. Almost beastly. ¡°Perhaps not a party then?¡±

    ¡°Come on, Kii! Has my nose ever been wrong?¡± The Tome woman scoffed. ¡°Forget it though. I may crash a party uninvited, but I do have some tact. Never go into a man¡¯s basement without his permission, eh, Mr. Richard? You¡¯re liable to see something you don¡¯t want to. I¡¯d bet my last crown there¡¯s some weird sex thing going on down there.¡±

    ¡°It is not!¡± the merchant shouted indignantly, worried at the way the crowd listening intently to their conversation began to whisper.

    ¡°Of course it isn¡¯t.¡± The noblewoman leaned toward the elf as if she meant to whisper but if anything, she raised her voice. ¡°Of course it is. People don¡¯t huddle in musty darkness for anything other than strange vices they don¡¯t dare share where people might see them.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Drinks?¡±

    ¡°Eh, those won¡¯t do.¡±

    ¡°Food?¡±

    ¡°Definitely won¡¯t do.¡±

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    ¡°Hmm. Women?¡±

    ¡°¡­they might do.¡±

    Mr. Richard¡¯s unease around the noblewoman grew at the lecherous smile she flashed. By the saints, he wished wealth gave him the kind of power he¡¯d need to throw them both out but as it was, all he could do was prepare himself for more unruliness. He reassured himself with the knowledge that he wouldn¡¯t have to deal with them for long. If his son had any sense, Bertrand would already be out of the building and fetching the guards. They didn¡¯t have the power to evict the women either, but it was well-known, at least to the people who made it their business to know, that the women, for all their menace, had made a point of not terrorizing the city¡¯s official defenders.

    All he had to do was stall.

    ¡°We¡¯ll handle this from here, Mr. Richard.¡±

    And perhaps he might not even have to do that. The merchant turned to see several hunters moving toward him. At their head was a average-looking man with tanned skin, a head full of blonde hair, and an impressively neutral expression. Simone, the bastard that had informed him, not asked, that the guild would be making use of his property.

    Mr. Richard didn¡¯t like hunters, but he had a special distaste for the consuls of the Shadow Wolves guild. It was bad enough dealing with the sword-swinging barbarians in a professional setting. Recruiting smart people and teaching them to wield pens and contracts was simply unfair. It left the merchants and administrators without a leg to stand on. The guilds always ran the city, but this new wave of legal-hunters was determined to make sure they kept it and were busily hounding the few free businesses that had managed to sprout despite the guilds¡¯ tyranny.

    For the first time, Mr. Richard was glad of the consul¡¯s domineering streak. Simone strode with the purpose that declared he intended to take command of the situation. The merchant hated that attitude when directed toward his business, but he was more than happy to let the man take hold of the alchemical bombs in the guise of women. If he was lucky, he might slip away before they went off.

    Despite the deferential calling, Simone stepped in front of the merchant, clearly asserting himself as the one in charge. His dark eyes glared at the two women, who looked at him with the same mix of amusement and something else the merchant couldn¡¯t identify. ¡°Lady Tome, Miss Kierra. I can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised to see the two of you making trouble.¡±

    The Tome woman¡¯s smile turned whimsical. ¡°Do I know you?¡±

    That didn¡¯t make Simone happy. ¡°I was the one who tried to arrange a business arrangement between the brewer and the guilds before your asinine antics ruined it.¡±

    ¡°The one with the shady contracts, my love,¡± the elf added.

    ¡°Ah! The conman!¡±

    ¡°I am no conman!¡± the consul groused. ¡°We were negotiating¡ª"

    ¡°Oh, we¡¯ve established then we have different understandings of what it means to negotiate,¡± the noblewoman said, raising her voice further. ¡°I think of a negotiation as two parties in open discourse, working together to reach a favorable outcome. While you¡ª" She raised an accusatory finger. ¡°Your version of negotiating is doing everything you can to take advantage of the other side¡¯s ignorance, littering your words with traps that would bomb their future if they aren¡¯t quick enough to spot them and enslaving them with unfair contracts.¡±

    The hunter grit his teeth. Mr. Richard felt bad for the man. It was common knowledge that the business world was a cruel place and it sometimes required a cruel heart to survive it but having one¡¯s practices pointed out couldn¡¯t feel good. ¡°That is yesterday¡¯s matter¡ª"

    ¡°Yesterdays make our futures, as they say.¡±

    ¡°Today¡¯s matter is that you and your wife are trespassing. I kindly ask you to leave.¡±

    ¡°And what gives you the authority to do so? From what I understand, this is a party hosted by Mr. Richard there and he told us we were free to partake as we like.¡±

    Simone looked to him then and the merchant did what he could to communicate a shrug with just his eyes. What was he supposed to do? Firstly, he had a reputation to maintain and secondly, he didn¡¯t dare try to kick the women out when he had no power to do so.

    ¡°But, come to think of it, I have noticed quite a few hunters about. More of them than I¡¯d expect even knowing what kind of city Quest is.¡± The noblewoman stepped forward, leaving less than an arm of space between her and the consul. The kind of distance anyone would feel offended by. Mr. Richard could see the tension in Simone¡¯s shoulders and the men behind him were just as tense.

    ¡°Maybe this isn¡¯t a gathering of merchants.¡± Violet eyes swept the room. ¡°Maybe¡­this is a gathering of hunters. But what would a bunch of hunters be doing scurrying around in the dark like rats?¡±

    ¡°Rats are cowardly creatures,¡± the elf added. ¡°They are plotters and schemers that hide until their prey is weak before attacking.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Is that what¡¯s going on beneath our feet?¡± the noblewoman sneered. ¡°Plotting and scheming?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business,¡± Simone growled, unflinching in the face of the unspoken threats.

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re right!¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I said you¡¯re right.¡± The noblewoman danced away from him, laughing as she did. ¡°I¡¯m only here for the party. What do I care what you¡¯re getting up to? But do you know who should be concerned? All of you!¡±

    Mr. Richard¡¯s stomach dropped as she turned to face the crowd. He had a bad feeling about where the conversation was going, every instinct he had telling him to head the woman off. He¡¯d learned to obey those instincts over the years and called out, but her voice drowned his out. ¡°I mean, if there were some shady dealings going on beneath your feet without your knowledge, what would that make all of you? Distractions? Shields? Given that an establishment with a connection to the guilds recently went up in the flames with people still inside of it, I¡¯d be very concerned if I was in one such building and people were keeping secrets from me.¡±

    The murmurs of the crowd became an uproar. A scant few made for the exit immediately. Mr. Richard could almost feel his reputation being crushed beneath the weight of supposition and quickly raised his voice. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, please! There¡¯s nothing to be concerned about.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± The merchant didn¡¯t recognize the voice that called out to him. ¡°Then tell us what¡¯s going on beneath us. And what the guilds are doing here.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± The noblewoman¡¯s smile was unmistakably predatory as the crowd became rowdy. ¡°Tell us.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-108-Mr. Richard

    Mr. Richard thought it was about time to make his exit.

    One glance at the anxious and, far worse, interested faces surrounding him was enough to tell him there was no salvaging the situation. Either he denied them and invited salacious rumors of all kinds or¡­nothing. He didn¡¯t have any other options. It was made clear to him that whatever was going on in his basement was the guilds¡¯ business. As bad as losing confidence with his business partners would be, standing against the guilds was undoubtedly worse.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t up for debate! Leave or we¡¯ll make you leave!¡± Simone snapped.

    ¡°Oh?¡± The elf stretched her arms over her head, like someone preparing for a bout of exercise. ¡°That sounds fun.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited, love. They¡¯re not actually going to do anything to us. Rat bastards, remember?¡± Mr. Richard didn¡¯t know how but the Tome woman had a drink in her hand. She took a long swig of it before continuing. Juice, judging by the plain mug. ¡°Don¡¯t know about the others. This doesn¡¯t strike me as a group of people with experience defending themselves.¡±

    ¡°The others can speak for themselves.¡± A gentleman in a simple jacket with worn cuffs stepped out of the crowd. Mr. Richard didn¡¯t recognize his face, but he knew the bearing of a warrior. Even if he didn¡¯t, the man¡¯s audacity to speak into the tense atmosphere would have clued the merchant to the fact that he had to be possessed of some power, whether it be martial, magical, or influential.

    ¡°I for one am tired of the guilds doing whatever they want in this city. I accepted that you had guild backers, but I won¡¯t be caught in the middle of whatever nonsense has men burning down good stores. Now, Mr. Richard. Either you shall show us this basement and explain the guilds interest in merchant affairs or you can forget any cooperation with myself.¡±

    Seeing as he didn¡¯t even recognize the man, Mr. Richard would have been more than happy to let him go on his way. The problem was the crowd that agreed with him, growing by the moment. Several men full of bravado and ego congregated around the instigator, voicing their own demands for transparency. Originally at him but, as he pointedly stepped behind Simone, eventually to the hunter. It was a tough situation with no elegant solutions.

    Then the damn Tome woman had to make it worse.

    ¡°This party is over¡ª"

    ¡°Oh, we can¡¯t have that.¡±

    The noblewoman cut the consul off by slipping between him and the crowd. ¡°Not when things are finally getting exciting. I say¡­we give the people what they want!¡±

    A shadow passed over Mr. Richard¡¯s head. He had just enough time to look up and see a scandalous view of the elf before a soft green glow covered her body and she dropped, crashing through the floor. The crowd gasped and exclaimed excitedly, backpedaling away from the hole. The noblewoman met his gaze and winked at him before following. Simone cursed and sprinted across the room, the hunters with him right on his heels as they took the more conventional route to the lower floor.

    Silence reigned for many minutes. Some of the braver guests, including the man who had spoken up, crept forward, intending to look down the hole. Mr. Richard couldn¡¯t deny he was just as curious, but age had sapped the foolishness from his bones. He¡¯d long learned to let others take the risks and capitalize off whatever they found out. As such, he took another step backward. A decision he was grateful for as the first explosion shook the floor.

    It was a small thing. The merchant didn¡¯t even stumble. Much more problematic was the gout of fire that sprouted out of the hole. The flames barely escaped the confines of the basement and were gone a moment later, but it was enough to scare the crowd, fear replacing their curiosity. The hunters in the room waved them back while others jumped down the hole, taking the most expedient route to the trouble.

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    Mr. Richard joined the herd stampeding toward the exit, letting the press of bodies push him forward while pondering his luck. It wasn¡¯t good that his celebration had been interrupted and his guests endangered but, thankfully, Simone had stepped forward. When people thought back to the source of the trouble, they would blame the guilds. He wouldn¡¯t win any points being associated with them, but he also wouldn¡¯t be blamed for any casualties, at least not by the more reasonable amongst his peers.

    And maybe, if he talked fast, he could use the mess to wrangle a few more benefits out of the Wolves. After all, they had strong-armed him into the night¡¯s arrangement with promises that their business wouldn¡¯t interfere with his own. Well, the night had certainly been interfered with and he wouldn¡¯t be much of a merchant if he didn¡¯t bleed the ones responsible for as much as he could.

    If he survived the night.

    He ran away from one threat and into another. The crowd around him paused and he followed their gazes, his heart pounding rapidly as what should have been a dark sky was lit nearly as bright as day by multiple fires. Mr. Richard watched with wide eyes as part of a building encased in angry flames collapsed, kicking up a wave of dust as it hit the street.

    ¡°What the fuck is going on in this crazy city?¡± someone shouted over the crowd that stood in frightened rigor. Mr. Richard was also stumped. A few moments ago, his course of action seemed simple. Leave his building to avoid it going up in flames. Yet, instead of running to safety, he¡¯d run into more trouble. At least, trouble stood between him and anywhere else. Given the spread of the flames, the only safe direction was out of the city, though that wasn¡¯t particularly safe either. No beasts would dare wander so close to the walls, but he didn¡¯t like the idea of wandering about in the dark. It was practically asking for trouble.

    But he didn¡¯t have any options. He could either run away from the fire, toward it, or stand amongst the petrified bodies mesmerized by the flames. A long life had taught the merchant that there was nothing more dangerous than standing amidst a mob and he didn¡¯t have the strength to run into disasters. So, he ran for the gate and the guards that should be guarding it. It wouldn¡¯t be a comfortable few hours but he wasn¡¯t so fragile a cold night would send him to an early grave.

    ¡°Father?¡±

    At once, Mr. Richard felt all his worries about letting his second son inherit his meager fortune settle as he spotted the young man and his sister huddled together with a few others as well as the two guards meant to be guarding the gate. His eyes flicked over them as he approached, noting with much relief that neither had any injuries. Whatever faults Bertrand had, he knew how to take care of his family.

    ¡°I tried to reach the guards but¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that.¡± It was obvious enough why his son had chosen a different action. ¡°We¡¯ll stay here until¡ª"

    His words were drowned out by a loud explosion. The roar of sound was accompanied by a tall pillar of flame shooting into the night sky, an unnatural green in color. The merchant blanched as he recognized the sign of particularly powerful alchemical fire and said a silent prayer to the saints asking that it hadn¡¯t been his warehouse, and all of his pricey goods just destroyed. The black smoke, visible even against the dark sky, was an ominous sign of the events to come. ¡°We¡¯ll stay here until the city does something about this mess. Need be, we¡¯ll follow the wall to the southern gate. The whole city can¡¯t be burning.¡±

    ¡°Why haven¡¯t they put it out already?¡± his daughter whined. Normally, he couldn¡¯t stand her incessant complaints and demands, but, seeing her standing in the darkness while hugging herself, completely unprepared for the lingering chill in the air and fear plain across her face, his heart softened. Ignoring his own discomfort, he shrugged off his own jacket and handed it to her. Bertrand shrank at the gesture, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. Something had already happened to his jacket, and no one would judge him for not handing over his shirt. The fact that he judged himself anyway was why Mr. Richard thought of the boy as his favorite.

    ¡°It¡¯s not as simple as throwing around a little water. Some fires can¡¯t be extinguished, only contained. Then of course there¡¯s the matter of rescuing those trapped by the blaze. Even for a master caster, it must be a struggle.¡± There would certainly be incalculable damage in the morning, both in crowns and lives.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t take into account fighting whatever or whoever started the fire.¡± The guard who had spoken shrugged when people turned to him. ¡°We¡¯re all thinking it, yeah? We¡¯ve known this city was headed for war for weeks. Looks like it¡¯s started and the guilds aren¡¯t keeping it contained like they promised. Damn hunters.¡±

    A city with an incompetent guard, guilds warring with the forces of the north, and an indisposed lord with no ability to bring order to the dangerous chaos. It screamed of liabilities and bad business. No matter what the morning brought, Mr. Richard decided it was a good time to go on vacation.

    As another plume of smoke and fire appeared deeper in the city, the merchant changed his short vacation to an impromptu change of residence.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-109-Lane

    Lane Macklemore felt like a waste. For all the resources poured into him and the advantages he was given, he¡¯d done disappointingly little with his life.

    He didn¡¯t grow up privileged by any means but as the son of a moderately successful hunter, his family had been well off. His father had instilled a strong work ethic in his children, of the firm belief that one needed to work for their fortunes and strong foundations meant nothing if what was built atop them was shabby.

    The problems started with Lane having no idea what he wanted his contribution to the family legacy to look like. His siblings naturally fell into hunting. The second son, Lucas, took to it especially, like a fish to water, using their father¡¯s connections and experience to quickly rise through the ranks. Lane had apprenticed at One For All for a bit, running errands in exchange for training, but he had no love for the life. Moreover, he knew he had no talent for it. It didn¡¯t take long to become disheartened with the idea of joining a guild officially.

    Joining the Hall was an act of desperation. He was no genius when it came to magic and had only a basic fire affinity. However, the appeal of the Grand Hall was that it was a place of opportunity for all. So long as one was willing to work hard, anyone could become the next Harvest Hero, or so went the dream. He¡¯d joined the Hall with the hope of finding what he wanted to do with his life.

    And he did.

    Becoming a learned man and a competent caster were just bonuses to meeting the love of his life, Alyssa Filagree. The former knight of Victory, former hunter, and current instructor for the Hall with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue.

    He''d been fascinated by the redhead from the moment she stopped into his Introduction to Fire Magics class, grumbling about teaching idiotic brats while nursing a hangover. That fascination was supplemented by a determination to make the woman remember his name as she never bothered to address a single acolyte properly, directing them with ¡°hey, you¡± and ¡°you bastards over there¡±.

    By the end of his first acolyte year, she still refused to call him by name. He wasn¡¯t in love with her, but his determination had become something of an obsession. A point of pride. He signed up for her next class, and the one after that. Before he knew it, she¡¯d actually remembered his name and he was head over heels in love.

    He knew from the beginning that pursuing Alyssa wouldn¡¯t be easy. She had a past, one she preferred to drink away rather than discuss, and an abrasive attitude. Worse, he was starting from an unfavorable position.

    But Lane proved he was his father¡¯s son after all. He found hope in the fact that Alyssa showed no interest in anyone else and pursued it doggedly. The positive effects of his efforts spurred him on further. She softened to him, as much as she softened to anyone. He was searching for a career to dedicate himself to, preparing for their future, and readying himself to confess.

    Then the disastrous night at Lourianne Tome¡¯s party happened and all his dreams were poured down the drain. Lane didn¡¯t know why he blurted out his feelings. Maybe the stress of holding them in for so many years made him snap. Maybe it was the deceptively strong drinks and their strange effects. Maybe it was the sight of her chatting with an old friend.

    Whatever it was, the words were spoken and judgment delivered. Alyssa wasn¡¯t interested. She thought of Lane as a brother and would never see him as anything more because he wasn¡¯t her type. Years of unrequited love, spoiled and tossed out like rotten fruit.

    What truly boggled him was not that he¡¯d been rejected but the reason why. He thought he was exactly her type, certainty born out of logical deduction. Alyssa was an attractive woman and had many suitors over the years.

    Rich gentlemen, sappy poets, brawny idiots, arrogant academics, charming rogues. All of them had been sent away, none with more gusto than the domineering types propped up as ideal partners and his exact opposite. Lane thought Alyssa was a woman who wanted someone to look after her. Saints knew she needed it. He didn¡¯t even take offense when Cynthia called him her wife. Who cared if they did things a little different from norma? He would have been happy.

    But their happily ever after wasn¡¯t meant to be.

    Lane was lost. He¡¯d put so much of himself into his crush, he didn¡¯t know what to do without it. He also couldn¡¯t keep pining away, no matter how much he wanted to. It¡¯d be easy to blame his behavior on the drink, take a step back, and fall into familiar routines. Could even convince himself that he might change her mind if he remained persistent.

    The problem was his pride. Very little having the story of his rejection passed around the hall by the many witnesses, but some. If he wanted his shredded ego to survive, he couldn¡¯t keep on her heels like a whiny puppy. He needed to do something. Get on with his life. Maybe get laid.

    Instead, he drank.

    It worked well enough for Alyssa and it filled the time. Didn¡¯t make him feel better but if he drank enough, he didn¡¯t feel much of anything and that was good enough in the short term.

    That drinking led to him following the young man with ginger hair into a brightly lit basement. His name was Deen and Lane didn¡¯t know him very well. They happened to enjoy drinking in the same cheap tavern. One day, as the drunk tended to do, they began chatting with undue familiarity, pouring out their hearts to one another.

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    They had a lot in common, both being young men native to Quest. Including heartbreak. It was nice to talk to someone he was reasonably sure wasn¡¯t secretly laughing at his circumstances. Lane ended up sharing his concerns about a lack of direction in his life and Deen invited him to a gathering. His new friend was vague on details but promised three things.

    The first was that it was being hosted by the guilds. It was a smart thing to lead with as it gave whatever it was legitimacy.

    The second was that there would be free drink and food. Which would have been enough to convince to come on its own, legitimate gathering or not.

    The last thing was that they had a demonstration planned. Deen guaranteed that witnessing it would change Lane¡¯s mind and being a part of it would change his life. Staring down a whole lot of nothing, it was an attractive proposal.

    The basement was fairly crowded, filled with hunters. What caught Lane¡¯s attention was the number of groups represented. Hunters didn¡¯t wear uniforms but they were loyal to their guilds and represented their affiliations in small ways. Independent hunters were even easier to spot. Lane saw a fair number of both and at least four guilds represented.

    Deen interrupted his contemplation by guiding him to the refreshment tables. Three older boys in nice shirts and aprons stood behind them, serving. Lane was initially excited about the free feast but quickly lost his zeal once the taste hit his tongue. Ever since Lou¡¯s party, he found himself unimpressed by most cuisine.

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you decided to come,¡± Deen said excitedly as he waited for the boys to load a plate with tiny sandwiches and fruit.

    ¡°Not that I know why I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain all of that.¡± The redheaded man guided Lane to a discreet area after grabbing his food and stuffing a drink in Lane¡¯s hand. ¡°I suppose you know about the mess with the north?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Someone would have to be deaf and blind to be unaware of the trouble brewing. They would have to be stupid to willingly involve themselves in it. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me this is a recruitment pitch.¡±

    ¡°Eh, yes and no. Wait, wait! Hear me out. These hunters are here for that but we¡¯re just trying to help people. Give those born without talent or privilege a way of making the most of their lives and ambitions.¡±

    It took effort not to scoff at his new friend¡¯s idealistic words and excited tone. ¡°You think you have the answer to the poor and the destitute?¡±

    To Lane¡¯s surprise, Deen¡¯s smile didn¡¯t abate the tiniest fraction. ¡°We do. Like anything, it isn¡¯t perfect, but it¡¯s a chance. A truly equal opportunity in that it is available to anyone, regardless of their blood or affinity, and that it has no limits. Any man can reach the heights of power as the Harvest Hero if they dedicate themselves.¡±

    Lane didn¡¯t remark on the man co-opting the Hall¡¯s slogan. ¡°And what is this amazing field or process?¡±

    ¡°Have you ever heard of summoning?¡±

    Of course he¡¯d heard of it. The Hall was big but not so big that he didn¡¯t know of all the disciplines it offered having spent years as an acolyte. Despite its unpopularity, summoning was a well-researched discipline, those who practiced it uncommonly dedicated to it. More than any other field, summoners returned to the Hall to donate their knowledge and resources to the next generation. It was a dedicated community if not a very close one.

    But if he had never heard of summoning before, he would certainly have known about it after meeting Lou. The woman was famous for many things and not least of which was her status as a summoner of some ability.

    Lane¡¯s mouth twisted with disdain. ¡°Summoning? Really? That¡¯s your answer to all of life¡¯s problems? Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°What about the idea is ridiculous?¡±

    ¡°Summoning¡¯s been around for a long time. If it was the answer to all the world¡¯s problems that you think it is, don¡¯t you think someone would have discovered so by now?¡±

    ¡°Why would the people in a position to know want to solve our problems?¡± Lane paused, stumped by the question, and Deen pounced on the silence. ¡°This kingdom was founded during a period of great strife. In the chaos following the Great War, there was no law. There were no rights of the people. There was no such thing as fair. There were only the soldiers that fought, the generals that led them, and the enemies they needed to fight. The powerful ruled without censor and they used that freedom to horde all the resources of our new home. A tradition that persisted until we built a kingdom where the unfortunate labor for the further glory of the lucky, rather than improving their lives and the lives of their families.¡±

    Lane scoffed. ¡°I admit, it¡¯s not fair but nothing is. Besides, there¡¯s nothing holding anyone back. Quest is a city of opportunities. Anybody can make their mark.¡±

    ¡°Sure, anyone can¡­if they survive fighting monsters and men. How many people have what it takes to face death, day in and day out? How many great fighters die to a bit of bad luck or passing bad weather?¡±

    ¡°Bad luck can happen to anyone, anytime, doing anything.¡±

    ¡°There is a world of difference between the dangerous of summoning and those of hunting. And a lot more can be done to mitigate them.¡±

    Lane grunted, having to admit the other man was right. ¡°But who cares? I don¡¯t need another creature that can throw around fire, I do that well enough on my own. There¡¯s no point.¡±

    Deen shook his head while smiling. ¡°That¡¯s the problem. This kingdom was founded on war so we all think of magic in terms of combat, but summoning can be, is, so much more. Elementals aren¡¯t weapons. They are sources of knowledge. New thoughts, new ideals, and new ways of doing things. Or, sometimes, they are masters of what we think we have mastered. As an acolyte, I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t need another weapon. But what could you do with, say, a creature that could teach you to wield your fire with such control that you could rival a master masseuse with a physical affinity, using heat to relax tense muscles?¡±

    ¡°¡­why would I want to be a masseuse?¡±

    Deen lightly punched his shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s not the point! The point is you never thought about using your magic that way, have you?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± It was novel, but Lane wouldn¡¯t say it was a good idea. Or feasible.

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re offering, Lane. To broaden people¡¯s perspectives. To give them opportunities they¡¯ve never dreamed of.¡±

    ¡°And what¡¯s it going to cost them?¡± Nothing was free. He wasn¡¯t so cynical that he would doubt charity, even the Hall practiced it with their scholarships, but rampant generosity was unsustainable. The world ran on gold.

    ¡°That¡¯s the beautiful thing. A summoner only needs knowledge and knowledge needs nothing but time.¡±

    ¡°You want to train summoners for free? With no restrictions?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re a community. We expect those the community helps to help it in turn. Share what they learn and their services. Donate what they can when they want. More importantly, we insist that our members carry on our mission. One person can¡¯t change the world but fifty? A hundred? A thousand?¡± Deen shrugged, his smile silly. ¡°I think we can make a good dent in the mess, eh?¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-110-Lane

    It sounded good. Too good. Lane wasn¡¯t arrogant enough to think that he could make a difference in the world. Not even a hundred or a thousand of him. He knew better, but hope was an insidious creature. No defense could keep it from slipping into the chest and inflaming the mind. His good sense told him he was walking toward trouble, but he ignored it as he asked, ¡°Is that what you¡¯re doing here? Helping people?¡±

    Deen winced. ¡°Ah, no. This is¡­we¡¯re not exactly thrilled to be dragged into this mess, but you know how it is in this city. It¡¯s a lot harder to get anything done if you go against the guilds. Downright impossible for something like this. But we¡¯re trying to turn it to our advantage. Use the crisis to spread awareness.¡±

    ¡°Something else you can¡¯t tell me?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯ll tell you.¡± The redhead sighed and Lane wondered if the color of the man¡¯s hair was why he¡¯d followed him to this meeting. Then he wondered if that was unhealthy. He figured it probably was. ¡°How much do you know about, well, everything?¡±

    Lane only knew what scraps he heard from Alyssa. ¡°The guilds pissed off Victory and now we might all have to face an army of mad northmen.¡±

    ¡°Eh, that¡¯s the gist of it.¡± Deen downed his drink. ¡°You want another?¡±

    ¡°Here, take mine.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± They swapped cups and he took a sip of the second drink before continuing. ¡°Quest might have nice walls, but they¡¯re just stone. The powers that be are assuming that they won¡¯t stand up for more than a few minutes, given it doesn¡¯t take that much power to blow man-sized holes through them. They also believe, rightly or wrongly, that they can muster a similar number of master casters. The problem then becomes the general forces.¡±

    The other man shrugged. ¡°Simple fact is, the average hunter doesn¡¯t match up to the average northern knight. In fact, if the stories can be believed, they are greatly outclassed. Once the master casters decimate the city, it¡¯ll come down to the armies and Quest will lose. Now, there¡¯s no way we can close the skill gap in a matter of weeks or even months. What we can do is bolster our numbers. Imagine if every willing hunter or militiaman had an elemental of his same strength fighting at his side. Skill aside, the northern army would be drowned under the wave.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a sound theory but isn¡¯t that ambitious? I didn¡¯t believe summoning to be so easy.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just it. Summoning is that easy. Don¡¯t get me wrong, the stronger and more intelligent elementals are a lot more picky about their contractors but there are plenty of low-intelligence creatures that are eager to be contracted for simple prices. And we¡¯re going to prove it. That¡¯s what tonight¡¯s demonstration is about. We¡¯re going to help one person, any person, that¡¯s the whole point, form a contract.¡±

    It was a crazy idea. If it worked, it would change the face of conflicts. And of magic. If elementals managed to deter a force like Victory, it would no longer matter what kind of casters a group had, but the number and strength of their elementals. Summoning and summoners would become a lot more valuable. None more than those with experience and/or powerful elementals.

    Lane almost felt guilty for his doubt. Deen and his group truly had the potential to change the world. Of course, only if what he claimed was true. But if it was, he¡¯d stumbled upon an incredible opportunity.

    It was rare to find a profitable venture when it was just getting started. He could join this group, rise through the ranks, maybe make a difference. It would be something and he¡¯d been wandering through life for so long, a goal was a very appealing thing.

    Somewhere in the back of his mind, barely consciously acknowledged, was the thought that if this group did change the world and he was a part of it, maybe Alyssa wouldn¡¯t see him as a little brother. Maybe she¡¯d see him as something more.

    Full of mixed motivations, Lane accepted Deen¡¯s invitation to stay for the demonstration. He accompanied his new friend as the redhead worked the room, pitching the ideals of the Grand Summoners. A fitting name for the idealistic group. For the first time in days, he didn¡¯t feel the urge to mute his thoughts with booze. He needed his mind clear to make a potentially life-altering choice.

    But he never got to make it.

    Deen disappeared for a few minutes before finding him again, wearing a giddy smile as he announced that the demonstration would be happening soon and Lane would have the dubious honor of meeting the leader of the Grand Summoners. His friend dragged him back to the refreshments table, insisting he grab something to drink and a snack, as the demonstration could take a while and he would make a terrible impression sneaking off for something to eat. He was waiting for his food when a loud crash startled him.

    Years of training meant his arms shot up in a guard and his eyes glowed with his channeled mana before he knew what was going on. Many others mirrored him, all their eyes trained on the spot in the room where a part of the ceiling had fallen to the floor, light from the upper floor brightening the gloom.

    Lane didn¡¯t know what he expected to see when his eyes adjusted and the dust cleared. It certainly wasn¡¯t Kierra Atainna in a scandalizing dress slowly standing up while brushing away the dust clinging to her. She smiled as her eyes scanned the room. ¡°Not rats. Disappointing.¡±

    The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, or more likely a dagger, as she strolled into the crowd, the men and women making way for her as if she were riddled with plague. Lane didn¡¯t know how to react. He didn¡¯t think of the elf as a threat, would call her a friend or friendly acquaintance if asked, but the room¡¯s atmosphere didn¡¯t allow him to relax. The hunters were acting as if a dangerous beast prowled between them, ready to tear them apart at any moment if they made one wrong move.

    ¡°Oh, this is so bad,¡± Deen whispered.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    The redhead looked at him with raised brows, one step from looking at him as if he were an idiot. ¡°This is a gathering of the hunters that think we should be fighting the north. And that¡¯s one of the north¡¯s representatives in this conflict. At our secret meeting.¡±

    Things clicked for Lane. The downside to their good intentions. The other shoe. The risk to what Deen tried very hard to paint as a risk-free situation.

    The Grand Summoners had allied with the guilds against Lou and her house. He¡¯d be their enemy.

    He didn¡¯t know much about the elf but he¡¯d heard plenty. Worse, he hadn¡¯t been so drunk he missed Lou¡¯s demonstration. These people needed to rethink their plan. Unless they could contract an army of master casters, they didn¡¯t have a chance in the Abyss of winning the impending fight. Saints witness, even that might not be enough.

    A spell had shredded the noblewoman¡¯s insides and she¡¯d gotten back up in moments, without a single trace of magic or healing to explain it. She was a monster and if what he¡¯d heard about her wife and elementals were true, so were they.

    As if summoned by his thoughts, the woman herself dropped down, looking about the room in the same way as her wife, an amused smirk on her lips. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Kii,¡± she drawled as she stepped up alongside her wife. ¡°Looks like a bunch of rat bastards to me. Honest gentlemen wouldn¡¯t be mucking about in the dark with bad intentions. Or is someone going to tell me you all are discussing peace and prosperity for all?¡±

    She raised her voice as she asked the question. No one answered and she laughed into the silence, raising a finger. ¡°One chance. One chance for everyone to decide they love their lives and return to their homes safe and sound. One chance for you to realize that losing a few odds and ends isn¡¯t the end of the world. One glorious, saintly chance for you all to not be idiots. Not that I think a single one of you is going to appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°Is she insane?¡± Deen hissed.

    Lane shook his head. He understood how it looked. Two women threatening a room full of hunters had to look crazy. But his friend didn¡¯t know these women. If he did, he wouldn¡¯t be watching with wide eyes but would be joining Lane in searching for a way to disappear without drawing attention to themselves.

    When the redhead stood staring for too long, Lane grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the wall, harshly shushing his attempts to speak. He held the other man in a dark corner and waited.

    It didn¡¯t take long. The tense silence was broken by a man shouting, ¡°Fuck you and that long-eared bitch! You¡¯re not taking our homes!¡± Then the first spell flew. An icicle launched with impressive force.

    Lou batted it aside with a sigh. ¡°That¡¯s one idiot.¡±

    Another man yelled, ¡°Eat shit!¡± and the second spell flew. A ball of orange fire the size of her head.

    The noblewoman didn¡¯t do anything, the heat washing over her without effect. She looked right at the offender and shrugged off her jacket, throwing it behind her. Her thrall caught the garment, startling Lane as he hadn¡¯t noticed her drop down. His stomach twisted in dread as he just as quickly lost sight of her again, losing track of her after he blinked. An insidious ability. If he hadn¡¯t been completely sure the hunters were begging for a fight they couldn¡¯t win, that would have convinced him.

    ¡°That¡¯s two. The rest of you haven¡¯t attacked so I¡¯m hoping there¡¯s a lot more of you with sense than without. Come on. Take your friends and your booze and walk away. Enjoy the rest of the night. Give the north what they want and get on with your lives.¡±

    A woman ran out of the crowd. She didn¡¯t yell like the men before her as she wielded a dagger, boldly attempting to stab the arrogant noblewoman. Her wrist was caught, then her other wrist as the female hunter pulled another dagger. Lou shoved her in the direction of Kierra, who backhanded her. The hunter crumpled, bleeding from her nose and lips.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that.¡± Lou shrugged off the stares. ¡°I don¡¯t like seeing women hurt. When that can¡¯t be avoided, I¡¯d rather not hurt them myself. Though I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to avoid it, am I? If three of you attacked, knowing what you know, I¡¯m pretty sure the rest of you are going to try your luck. Aren¡¯t you?¡±

    A man Lane didn¡¯t recognize stepped forward, his expression hard. He looked down at the fallen woman and firmed his resolve. ¡°Hunters don¡¯t back down from a fight. Not when our homes and our families are on the line. It may just be gold to you, Lady Tome, but it¡¯s our legacies. The futures we¡¯ve shed blood for. And no crazy northerner or foreigner will take them away.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have to take them when you throw them away.¡±

    ¡°You made a mistake coming here.¡±

    ¡°I highly doubt it.¡±

    That¡¯s when chaos broke out.

    Deen screamed as the magic started flying, the sound mostly drowned out by the sounds of fighting. Lane tightened his grip on the cowering man, cursing as the walls shook and the floor was broken up. He grimaced as a shell of flame drained a fifth of his mana, a fairly advanced spell. Fire wasn¡¯t a good affinity for defense, some argued it was outright the worst, which meant he had to pump a lot more mana into it for it to be any use. Even more as the shell had to cover two.

    ¡°Keep low and move fast,¡± he hissed. ¡°Come on!¡±

    When Deen hesitated, Lane pulled on him harder, forcing him to move. The shell wasn¡¯t enough to protect them from everything. It handled the worst of the magic, but he still had to bring them to a stop when more of the ceiling fell and shove Deen to the ground when knives flew their way. His boots crushed bottles of wine and spilled food as he pulled them along the edge of the conflict. There was no way they could make it to the stairs, with all the hunters hurling spells from them so the women couldn¡¯t escape, but if they were quick, they could get out the way Lou came in.

    That¡¯s what survival was about. Moving quickly and taking advantage of any opportunity. Alyssa had taught him that.

    He wanted to see her. Damn his embarrassment and self-pity to the Abyss. That performance the night of the party wasn¡¯t going to be the end of it. He wasn¡¯t going to die and let years of memories get thrown out with the trash.

    Spotting a chance, Lane dragged Deen with him as he sprinted for the hole, his friend no longer fighting him as he realized he was being saved. Lane pulled the man tight and set off an explosion at his feet as he jumped, the force easily allowing them to clear the distance to the next floor.

    They landed hard, breaking apart as they rolled. Lane immediately popped to his feet, ignoring the pain in his legs, but there was no need for his caution. The room was empty. Deen relaxed but Lane pulled at him, yanking the man to his feet and ushering him out of the door. Only to come up short as they cleared it and took in the giant blaze in the distance.

    ¡°Saints! What¡¯s going on?!¡± Deen cried, fear making his voice crack.

    As they watched, a powerful stream of water doused one of the buildings, seemingly doing very little. At another building, the flames were gradually weakening, the effect clearly unnatural. It seemed someone, or more likely a group of someones, was trying to contain the fire but he still didn¡¯t think it wise to go into the city.

    ¡°Now¡¯s not the time to lose your nerve,¡± Lane told his friend as he pushed him toward the gate. There shouldn¡¯t be anything nasty hanging near the walls and he¡¯d rather risk being jumped by a manabeast or two than trying his luck in the chaos within the city. ¡°You¡¯re going to see a lot worse than this if you want to save the world.¡±

    ¡°This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen.¡±

    Lane fought not to scoff at the sentiment. When did things ever go how they were supposed to? He was supposed to be an accomplished caster by now. He was supposed to have wooed the woman of his dreams. ¡°Forget about what¡¯s supposed to be happening. Focus on what is and surviving the night. We¡¯ll figure out the rest in the morning.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-111-Callan

    Things had been going well for Callan. Perhaps too well. Maybe that was why he was currently crouching and crawling, trying to avoid stray spells and knives.

    When he first received a summoning record from Lourianne Tome¡¯s thrall, he only had vague ideas of power and achieving it. Contracting the Vanity King had opened his eyes and mind to much grander visions. He¡¯d never been shy. When he saw the opportunity, he latched onto it, determined to milk it for all it was worth.

    The result was the Grand Summoners. He knew he would need a following if he wanted his elemental to remain loyal, but it became more than he could have ever imagined, far faster than he thought possible.

    He was not alone in being a man of common talents in search of a privileged future. Support flooded in, from summoners of the Hall that wanted to spread the uncommon art, to merchants looking to exchange their wealth for powerful, down to the downtrodden of the city. In a matter of days since he started recruiting, he had dozens of members. After weeks, hundreds. Everyone wanted a chance to be more.

    However, there was only so much they could contribute. The guilds were a different story. They had wealth, they had connections, and most importantly, they had authority. With their backing, it wouldn¡¯t just be the desperate uniting around Callan. It¡¯d be the whole kingdom.

    Of course, that was only if the guilds weren¡¯t crippled by their business with the north. He was no fan of war but the hunter that approached him made it quite clear that Callan would benefit greatly should Quest manage to dissuade Victory from collecting its debt. He had been asked if he could make a difference. He replied by asking if thousands of manabeasts, as the weaker elementals he had in mind for the hunters to contract were slightly intelligent animals at best, would make up the difference. The hunter had liked his answer.

    But there were two things Callan had been clear about. His new partners asked him if he could contract an elemental that could rival a master caster. If they could substitute fairly useless novice hunters with coefficients of less than a hundred with experienced, master casters, Quest would trounce the northmen, titan-killers or not. Had he said yes, the guilds would have lined up to kiss his ass, but he knew enough about life not to make promises he couldn¡¯t keep.

    Those elementals were far from convenient beasts. They were human in all the ways that mattered, including a human¡¯s ability to reason and a human¡¯s titanic ambitions. Some of them even had human cruelty. They wouldn¡¯t be satisfied with a steady diet of meat or precious metals. They had designs.

    Callan didn¡¯t think himself a weak man or a particularly gullible one, but he knew he was out of his depth when it came to such creatures. King was one such being, but the record had made the contract easy, outlining the elemental¡¯s wants and the best way to approach him. One day, Callan would guide the members of his group through such summonings, but he wouldn¡¯t stake his burgeoning reputation on his ability to do so in the present.

    The second demand he¡¯d divested himself of was regarding Lourianne Tome. They questioned if, as a summoner, he had a way of dealing with her. Or, better, if he and King were willing to fight for the guilds. To that, Callan had responded with a resounding no.

    Oh, he would love to put the noblewoman in her place and repay her for every humiliation he suffered at her hands. Maybe one day he would. That day was far from being realized. He was under no illusion about his abilities. More importantly, he had read up on succubi and he knew very well the abilities of Kierra. Fighting Lourianne was well beyond his abilities. That¡¯s why he only agreed to assist the guilds.

    Maximum benefits for minimum risk.

    That minimum risk was meant to keep him away from Lourianne Tome. Yet, he found his demonstration interrupted by the very woman tearing through some of the best fighters in the city. The saddest part was that it wasn¡¯t even a close fight. He didn¡¯t see much as most of his attention was on preserving his own life but from the few glimpses he risked, he saw something right out of a cheesy story.

    The noblewoman was being pelted with magic of all kinds. Fire, water, ice, bits of rock, sharp bits of metal, blasts of air that roared through the room, and more. One bastard even threw lightning, the muted clap of thunder that accompanied it nearly deafening Callan. None of it worked.

    Some of the attacks injured Lourianne but nothing stuck. Nothing knocked her down. Not even the fighters that dared risk getting close to her, darting between the rain of deadly projectiles. He knew she was strong. He didn¡¯t know that she was fast and a very practiced fighter. Or at least she gave that impression, the way she dispatched the fighters. Her movements weren¡¯t nearly as graceful as Kierra¡¯s, who moved with unnatural speed and precision, giving off the impression of a dancer as she weaved through the room, but she was efficient.

    One blow was all it took to put down a hunter. They were experienced fighters and they worked together to keep her at bay, but it didn¡¯t matter. Eventually they made a mistake, and that mistake ended their life. With every downed attacker, their assault became that much harder to keep up, making the next mistake even more likely.

    But it wasn¡¯t Lou¡¯s ability that unsettled Callan. It was the noblewoman¡¯s expression. He¡¯d been in many fights throughout his life and they¡¯d inspired a whole range of emotions. Anger. Excitement. Fear. Everything in-between. That was normal.

    What wasn¡¯t normal was dispatching men and women with the ease of stomping insects with a perfectly bored expression. He couldn¡¯t tell if the stoicism was forced but, at first glance, Lourianne didn¡¯t appear to care at all that she was currently enduring a barrage that could bring down a master caster. She didn¡¯t blink as people became corpses and the building threatened to collapse on top of them.

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    Callan wasn¡¯t a coward. A coward wouldn¡¯t get into a ring to face off against foundation acolytes with nothing but grit and his bare fists. The bravest of men would feel his same struggle as he watched the slaughter and fought the primal fear clawing at his mind. It sapped his reason, tossing aside useless concepts like hunters, nobles, and ambition. It boiled down his circumstances to simple, natural facts. He was weak, vulnerable prey trapped in an enclosed space with predators savaging the herd he was meant to draw safety from.

    The fear pressed on him, urging to make himself smaller and run away. It was hard to think past it. Especially when it was making sense and his thinking wasn¡¯t getting him anywhere.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be here.¡±

    Callan looked up from where he was crouched behind a small mound of crumpled ceiling to find glowing pink eyes looking down at him. Some of his fear receded, but only some. After all, the eyes were not kind. Beautiful, but not kind. Unnerving if he didn¡¯t recognize them.

    ¡°Come on.¡±

    He hesitated when the thrall extended a hand toward him but only for a moment. There were no other options and he wanted, no, he needed out. The thrall pulled him to his feet and confidently guided him alongside the outskirts of the conflict to one of the holes in the ceiling. Beneath it, the thrall scooped him up and before he could think to complain about the embarrassing position, she leaped to the upper floor and set him on his feet again.

    A large portion of his fear was eased when they finally escaped the building. The flames in the distance weren¡¯t a good sign but he could deal with that later. For the moment, he was just glad to be alive. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said as he gratefully sucked in air, uncaring he could taste a hint of smoke and a lot of blood.

    Had he cut his lip? A quick check with his tongue revealed he had and as soon as he acknowledged it, other aches made themselves known. He¡¯d gotten out of the death trap of a basement but not unscathed.

    ¡°No need to thank me. You¡¯ve done an admirable job.¡± Callan stumbled as the ground shook from the fight below. The creature was unbothered, tail whipping back and forth. ¡°You put that record I gave you to good use. At this rate, the Grand Summoners will stretch across the kingdom in a generation.¡±

    Callan jerkily nodded and started walking toward the gate. He didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near the monsters spilling blood beneath his feet. ¡°Maybe, before this¡­mess. With the resources of the guilds, even the king would have to take us seriously. Now¡­¡±

    Now, it¡¯d be a miracle if he could convince his people to leave their homes until the business with the north was settled. It was also possible that the harsh realities forced upon them would sap their ambitions altogether and Callan would have to rebuild somewhere else. ¡°I apologize. You gave me that record to help me, to save you from that¡­woman. But after what I¡¯ve seen¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s impossible.¡±

    The thrall giggled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, pet. Lou can be a vexing hunt, hm? She¡¯s even managed to surprise me. Right under my nose, she went and matured. Decided she wanted to grow up instead of being my adorably hopeless summoner practically overnight. Ah, ah. This is why I truly despise grief. Its effects are always so unpredictable.¡±

    Callan paused and stared at the creature. In response, she stopped and met his gaze. Remnants of his fear returned and started niggling at him. ¡°I want to ask you a favor.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°I need you to tell Lou that I¡¯m not her enemy. That I had nothing to do with this.¡±

    ¡°Oh, if only I could lie to her. That would make things so much easier. And it would be a lie, wouldn¡¯t it? You¡¯d slit her throat the second you had the opportunity. Or maybe not. You don¡¯t seem the kind to dirty your hands, if you can help it.¡±

    He flinched at the implied insult. ¡°Are you not the same?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t be further from you, pet. Especially in regard to Lou. If it were within my power, I¡¯d shelter her from any danger, perfectly safe in a comfortable little box with a nice view. I¡¯d give her anything she ever wanted, so long as she stayed put.¡± The thrall sighed. ¡°It¡¯s a small dream, or perhaps a very large one, but what are we without ambition? I¡¯m sure you understand.¡±

    Callan grit his teeth. The creature was very much a mystery to him but as a carpenter¡¯s apprentice in the Grand Market, surrounded by the best talents of the kingdom, he knew condescension when he heard it. ¡°Will you do it?¡± he said through grit teeth.

    ¡°I¡¯ll cover for you, sure. And you will do something for me.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°You are going to, hm, what is the best way to put this to you? Grow a pair?¡±

    ¡°Wh¡ª"

    Her hand clamping over his mouth silenced him. Callan¡¯s fear surged as he stared into the beautiful but cold eyes. It whispered to him that one of the predators had followed him out of the building. ¡°This city is about to go up in flames. You are one of the few people has some ability to stop that. Well, King does. So, instead of making the little kitty dance for the guilds¡¯ gold and amusement, I¡¯m asking you to do something of relevant importance for the first time in your life. Tell the guilds that your Grand Summoners won¡¯t be standing with them and if they try to drag the city into their mess, you¡¯ll have something to say about it.¡±

    Callan stumbled as he was thrown backwards, a hand idly rubbing his jaw. ¡°What makes you think I¡¯ll do a thing you¡¯ll say after that?¡±

    ¡°Because if you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll tell Lou about the fantasies you have of her wife. This new enlightenment of hers aside, she¡¯s still horribly insecure at heart. A few graphic details and she¡¯d throttle you before day¡¯s end.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re different.¡± This was a far cry from the creature that had been nearly in tears as she asked for his help.

    ¡°Aw. Did I hurt your feelings, pet?¡± He flinched away from the tail that gently caressed his cheek. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She didn¡¯t sound the least bit sincere. ¡°Normally, I¡¯m much better about my masks but I¡¯m a bit frustrated at the moment. And since you¡¯re not worth the bother of keeping up the act, I thought I¡¯d tease you a little. It¡¯s not as fun as I¡¯d hoped. You¡¯re offensively drab.¡±

    Callan¡¯s fear had been devoured by his rising temper. ¡°Who are you to insult me? A damn slave to that disgrace of a woman?¡±

    The thrall tsked as she shook her head. ¡°Have you heard the saying that a dragon that serves a king is still a dragon? Alternately, the queen of an ant hill is still an ant. Your station is the least of the things that define you, pet. Something you¡¯ll learn eventually if you don¡¯t get yourself killed. Now, as boring as this is, I have other things to do tonight. Take care of yourself. It¡¯d be the most minor of inconveniences if you died but an inconvenience still.¡±

    He watched in disbelief as the creature disappeared into the night. And, as he had done so often, he swallowed his anger. Unlike before, he didn¡¯t have to swallow it forever. Inconvenience?

    He¡¯d show her an inconvenience.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-112-Fendelheim

    ¡°You missed a spot, dear.¡±

    Fen grinned as Lord Teppin stiffened and went back over the shelf he had just finished cleaning. She had to admit, it was a fun punishment. She was a logical creature above all else, but that didn¡¯t preclude her or any other succubi from having interests. Most of them would be considered unsavory by human standards.

    The more powerful succubi enjoyed manipulations, the grander the better. Geneva had a strong liking for making her toys sabotage themselves, forming her plans around it even if it wasn¡¯t the most expedient route to success. As she said, no creature was infallible.

    The younger and weaker succubi were more mischievous than anything else, with a fondness for certain emotions. Benedial enjoyed making intelligent creatures fall in love with her and using that love to upend their lives. That was why she was chosen to seduce the prince. Hopefully, they could convince Lou to return her to her assignment. She¡¯d made a fair bit of progress wooing Dowager when Lou ordered all succubi to retreat from the capital. For now, they¡¯d made the excuse that Benny the maid had gone home to care for her sick mother and it would be a waste for her to disappear into the countryside, nothing but a pleasant memory.

    Fen was a much simpler creature. She enjoyed humiliation. Particularly, bringing low the arrogant, especially those undeserving of their arrogance. That was why she had taken Junior¡¯s contract. She could practically taste his anxiety and ineptitude when she stepped into his summoning circle, but he¡¯d forced himself to stand straight under his father¡¯s stern gaze. She knew she¡¯d have him in a few years, a handful of decades at the most. Her victory would be especially sweet, his fall that much more painful, if he dominated her for half his life.

    She wasn¡¯t upset with the way things turned out. While one, great humiliation was wonderful, a lifetime of degradation was its own treat. It offered her the chance to get creative, as she wouldn¡¯t want her puppet becoming numb to his situation. And with Junior properly under her heel, it left her time to enjoy other bits of entertainment, like the lord made to dust his own furniture.

    Lou might have a talent for these things. She wondered if the summoner would like a proper education in the art of shattering egos. It might be a good way for Fen to get a few pieces of her wonderful flesh. The thought made the thrall¡¯s tail flick with anticipation.

    Someone knocked at the door. Fen laced her fingers and placed her chin atop them, letting the seconds tick by, amusement growing as the person on the other side of the door grew more agitated. Right as their frustration was beginning to shift toward defeat, she called ¡°Come in.¡±

    The oldest Teppin daughter entered the room carrying a tray of tea. She pointedly didn¡¯t look at her father as she placed it at the end of the desk and started to serve. It was a bit of a pointless gesture, making the girl a servant. All the family, truly. Lou didn¡¯t need their service, but it kept them busy, too busy to get any ideas or start any trouble.

    Rey, the poor woman, had spent the last few days of her home¡¯s occupation doing nothing but brewing tea. She was improving, slowly. Too slow to ever reach the standard she was being measured against before dying of old age. It was hilarious. Lou¡¯s disdain for her efforts weren¡¯t faked or intended to harm but the young woman had a competitive spirit that was being rubbed raw by her constant failures.

    A cup was pushed toward her. Fen took a sip, put it down with a scoff, and pushed it away. ¡°Terrible.¡±

    Rey grit her teeth but did her best to smoothen the expression before asking, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with it?¡± Fen turned her head just enough to quietly glare at the woman until she swallowed nervously. ¡°¡­please instruct this incompetent one how she can improve.¡±

    Fen¡¯s glare turned into an amused smirk. ¡°It¡¯s the steeping. A minute, a few seconds for some, can make all the difference. This wasn¡¯t steeped for long enough. What you served tastes like dirty water with a hint of milk.¡±

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    Her amusement rose as Rey swallowed her anger. ¡°I followed the instructions¡ª"

    ¡°You followed the same instructions for the Royal White Blossom, yes. That is your biggest mistake. No two teas share the same optimal method of preparation. Hmm. I would go as far as to say no two cups.¡±

    ¡°Then how am I supposed to get it right?¡±

    ¡°Practice. One doesn¡¯t become a martial master or a master caster overnight, do they? No. It takes dedication. And a little initiative wouldn¡¯t hurt. You aren¡¯t actively trying to learn, are you? No. You put a half-assed effort into it and are mad when we tell you that you¡¯ve done a terrible job. A little silly, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    The young noblewoman¡¯s anger slipped into her tone. ¡°Why would I put any effort into being someone¡¯s servant?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps because your life directly depends on how satisfied the one you are serving is with you? You greatly underestimate your situation.¡±

    Rey¡¯s jaw worked and Fen could practically hear the woman¡¯s mind churning as she searched for a polite way to express herself without cursing. ¡°I don¡¯t think the situation will last as long as you think. It¡¯s only a matter of time before that¡­Lady Tome is apprehended. If not by the guilds, then by the crown.¡±

    ¡°Silly girl. You know¡ª"

    Fen paused, straightening up in her chair. There were a few things that succubi always instinctively did to protect themselves. The first was mentally attacking anyone that attempted to watch them shift forms. It was a way to safeguard their nature from prying eyes.

    The second was muting their thought emissions. All minds gave them off and the residents of Burning Earth could read them as easily as breathing. The same went for any other sufficiently capable mental affinity user. A succubus¡¯ greatest asset was her mind. Mana intrusion could be defended against in any number ways. An enemy would have to work for it. However, allowing one¡¯s thoughts to leak into the world unchecked was basically begging someone to steal secrets.

    The third was to habitually scan their surroundings for hostile intent. Forewarned was forearmed. All succubi were excellent fighters, martial strength paired with the ability to read an opponent¡¯s intentions, powerful casting abilities, and the ability to heal themselves made them terrible opponents. That did not make them immune to ambushes.

    Her usual scan, a spell that increased her sensitivity to thought emissions by several folds for a single moment, a precaution to mitigate the cost, she detected three minds full of violent thoughts and cold hostility heading for the estate. She repeated the spell and it confirmed what she sensed, the minds having moved closer. ¡°Earl!¡± she shouted, making the two other people in the room jump.

    With his usual swiftness, the young steward appeared in the doorway. His gaze bounced between the two Teppins, ensuring they weren¡¯t slacking, before settling on the succubus. ¡°Yes, Lady Fen?¡±

    ¡°Grab the members of the house and leave the estate going southeast. Find somewhere safe, preferably the Golden Feathers if can go that far without drawing attention.¡±

    The way he immediately departed was a testament to his training, though she expected nothing less from a mortal molded by a don. Compared to the dull souls trying to hide their rampantly mounting curiosity, he was a diamond amongst common rocks. Fen rose from behind the desk and addressed the room. ¡°It appears a group is preparing to seize the estate. Perhaps to rescue you?¡±

    ¡°It was only a matter of time,¡± Lord Teppin said, his tone carrying traces of hope and vindication.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to run with the others?¡± Rey said, not even trying to hide her smugness at the thought.

    ¡°Of course. Right after I kill the two of you.¡±

    Her words killed their jovial moods, replacing them with shock and fear. Fen laughed out loud. ¡°I¡¯m kidding. But maybe now you understand how lenient our Lou has been with you? Something to think about while you are cowering in the cellar. Ah, that wasn¡¯t a suggestion, dears. Move. Now. And grab the other two Teppin ladies.¡±

    They hurried from the room. Fen left at a more sedate pace, heading for the front door. Mentally, she called out to her summoner. Amusingly, it wasn¡¯t even a compulsion. Her control over him was so complete, she rarely gave him orders. His mind was so accustomed to following her orders, she didn¡¯t need to force him to do anything.

    He wasn¡¯t as prompt as Earl, but he arrived as quickly as he was able, yawning as he scratched at his thick hair. ¡°Why are we outside?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I am outside as I am preparing to greet a few guests. You ran outside for my amusement.¡± He only sighed at the answer. ¡°Now, go back inside and wait in front of the cellar.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Nothing you need to worry about. Go on now.¡±

    There was a time when he would have continued to question her. Or stared at her with quiet indignation. But now, he did what he was told with only the slightest grumble. Everything was in place and the stage was set. Though, if she were honest, this was not a part she was thrilled to play. Nevertheless, it was her duty. A succubus lived to serve.

    And they served until they died.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-113-Fendelheim

    Three. It was a problematic number.

    If it were a single mind, that would suggest a messenger. If it were a dozen or more minds, that would imply a mob, or perhaps a demonstration. Three was too specific. It implied a specific number chosen for a specific job. Those with the appropriate skills and no more. Elites.

    Fen was one of the stronger thralls serving Geneva. Using the humans¡¯ method of measuring core strength, she¡¯d have a coefficient around 430, give or take a few units. Not close to her evolution, but not too far off either. Less than a decade of work, sooner if she could extract a little more of Lou.

    Like all creatures, succubi grew their cores by cycling mana through it. It was a subconscious process, but it could also be an active one, intention and focus increasing the speed of the cycling. However, the residents of Burning Earth had a special biology that allowed them to stimulate the process by ¡°eating¡± the mana of others.

    The better mana they ate, either in quality or affinity, the faster their own mana was cycled naturally. One of the four basic affinities, as the humans described them, wielded by a novice would barely do anything.  A caster with her same coefficient and a greater affinity could increase the rate of her cycling by 50-70%.

    Lou was an entirely different thing. One bite and power cycled through Fen so quickly, she could feel her core growing. Better mana had a taste depending its quality. Nothing as mundane as the sweet, bitter, and savory flavors of food. Something¡­deeper. More complex. And Lou tasted divine. If the succubi weren¡¯t predators, they would probably worship her.

    Fen didn¡¯t fear death. She couldn¡¯t, it simply wasn¡¯t a part of her biology. But she did feel regret.

    The source of her regret was the more than likely chance that the three coming toward the estate were master casters. It was almost a joke to call them that. Humans measured the competence of their casters by the size of their mana pool rather than their finesse, the true standard of mastery. Fen was utterly confident in destroying any of their master casters in a confrontation. Anyone of them. One. Not three.

    Mastery aside, she didn¡¯t like her chances facing casters who, between them, had three times her mana. There did come a point where quantity superseded quality.

    If she were her own agent, she would have run the moment she sensed their intentions. Unfortunately, she was ordered to safeguard the others. Earl and his sister were exceptional for their ages and species, but they were still children. Yulia had training as a James¡¯, but she was a poor example of the family known for their martial prowess and she had the extra burden of her son. Umphrieltalia didn¡¯t have good physical strength.

    None of them had the ability to escape from the minds she sensed at the rate they were moving. If they were master casters, as Fen suspected, they couldn¡¯t defend themselves. Not even Talia. Most of her spells relied on mental intrusion and no competent fighter would let her get close enough to use her abilities to the fullest. Earl was stronger than any other boy his age but he was a boy. Geneva had focused on his physical and mental development. Neither would survive a master caster launching an explosive spell strong enough to level the estate.

    There was only one way to fulfill her orders. She had to confront whoever was coming and delay them long enough to escape. Which would likely end in her death. The kingdom had no laws against the murder of elementals. With the city in chaos and tensions running high, she doubted they would be in the mood to hold their punches or hand out mercy.

    As expected, the three intruders didn¡¯t look best pleased. Also as expected, they were strong. She could smell their power and their affinities as they stopped in front of her, bringing three large horses to a stop.

    The one in the lead was the oldest of the group and far too eager. He jumped off his horse before the beast came to a complete stop, striding forward with imperious steps and stern eyes. He was dressed for a fight but unarmed, not a single bulge showing in his tight-fitting leather armor. His mana smelled of fire and water, with a well-developed coefficient. Somewhere between Kierra and Gordon Sr. A master.

    The next to dismount was a large man with a shaved head and a quiet menace. He smelled of a simple earth affinity, but she immediately registered him as the most dangerous. It was his focus. His eyes rapidly flicked over the estate, gauging the threats before narrowing on Fen. Evaluating her.

    The last one she recognized. The succubi constantly shared information. She recognized his face from when Lou investigated the disturbance in the city. Lucas Macklemore, the interim guildmaster of the Torchbearers. He had the smallest coefficient of the three and a basic wind affinity, but he had to have some worth if he was accompanying the others. He was certainly brave given the fate of the Teppin knights.

    ¡°Evening, gentlemen,¡± she called. ¡°What¡ª"

    ¡°Lucas, secure Lord Teppin. As for you, creature. If you want to survive, you will empty your entire core and surrender.¡±

    ¡°That is quite the demand for someone who has yet to introduce himself.¡± Her eyes focused on Lucas, who was walking toward her. Soon, he would be close enough to strike but she knew the other two were waiting for a reason to attack her. It wasn¡¯t a fight she could win, unless they were complete incompetents. Better to stall. ¡°And I won¡¯t be surrendering. Surely you can understand why a woman would be nervous to render herself powerless to three strange men.¡±

    ¡°Lucas,¡± the man in the lead snapped. ¡°Go. Don¡¯t let it get in your head.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    Fen let him pass. If it did come to a fight, it would be better if one of them concerned themselves with safeguarding the nobles, even if it was the weakest. Her gaze moved to the leader as Lucas disappeared into the house. ¡°My name is Fen.¡±

    ¡°Expel your core, creature. I won¡¯t ask a third time,¡± he snapped.

    ¡°His name is Tanner, the Boiler,¡± the third said. ¡°I am Korn, the Mountain. I¡¯m here to guarantee that our business is conducted honorably. If you surrender, no harm will come to you.¡±

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    She didn¡¯t need a spell to know he was telling the truth. It was as plain as Tanner¡¯s agitation. ¡°I see. That is relieving to know. Unfortunately, I can¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Wasting our time.¡±

    ¡°I was hoping this wouldn¡¯t end in violence,¡± Korn said, voice stern. ¡°We know that succubi are skilled but we are both named hunters with plenty of experience. This is not a fight you can win.¡±

    Fen chuckled. ¡°If only I had the choice.¡±

    Sensing Tanner¡¯s hostility spike, she made the first move, forming and launching a white-hot needle of fire before dashing toward him. She didn¡¯t know either of their abilities, but she knew the strengths and weaknesses of their affinities. A fire caster would be much easier to dispatch than an earth caster, so he was the natural target.

    Korn didn¡¯t lie when he said they had experience. Fen¡¯s spell was launched at the speed of an arrow, but Tanner managed to defend, his eyes glowing as he disassembled the spell, the heat displaced into the air. Korn also moved, dashing forward with a speed she didn¡¯t expect. She grabbed Tanner as he tried to backpedal out of her reach but before she could attempt to attack his mind, Korn tackled her off him.

    Fen shifted her tail, the spade-end transforming into a point before she tried to stab the hunter pinning her down through the neck. She barely managed to scratch him. She didn¡¯t waste a moment before buffing herself and head-butting the man. His grip instantly lost its strength. Korn demonstrated some skill, using the properties of the earth affinity to buff his defense in lieu of a physical affinity, but he¡¯d made a common mistake. No matter how tough the skin, organs remained vulnerable to shock. Specifically, the brain could be rattled.

    She pushed him off her and was immediately met with the disgusting feeling of mana intrusion. Tanner stared at her with narrow, glowing eyes. She didn¡¯t know the full extent of his spell, but she could feel her body heating up. Mana intrusion didn¡¯t care for skill. It was a numbers game, where the largest core had the advantage.

    Though her natural resistances held the spell at bay, as long as he poured mana into it, it¡¯d overcome her efforts eventually. He needed to die or at least have his concentration disrupted. She threw three needles of fire at Tanner while leaping to the side to avoid the earth shifting beneath her feet, Korn having already recovered, harassing her before getting to his feet. Worse, Tanner proved his ability by once again countering her attack without stopping his main spell.

    Casting two spells at once was not an easy thing. It required splitting one¡¯s attention entirely, thinking two separate thoughts at the same time. Not impossible but a skill that had to be trained extensively, especially to be used in combat. She lamented not having the option of retreat before changing her tactic. Pain wracked her being as she drained her core, her neck bulging as she grew a new organ and her nails turning into claws. Then she rushed the fire caster.

    Whistling air alerted her to Korn¡¯s attack and she dropped. Two small rocks flew through where her chest would have been, fast enough she suspected they would have punched through plate armor, and she scuttled away as more projectiles followed. They were fast but dodging them was child play when she could feel when the earth caster was going to attack. He relied too much on their speed, constantly aiming for where she was rather than predicting her path. It was even more obvious when he rushed at her again, ready to pull her away from Tanner.

    The fire caster was also ready to defend himself. She could feel his focus as he prepared to fend off her next lounge. However, she knew better than to attempt a strategy that had already failed. Five steps from Tanner, she turned on her heels and lunged at Korn.

    She saw his eyes widen as he opened his arms like a loving father welcoming a particularly enthusiastic child. Her claws didn¡¯t dig into his chest, but his arms didn¡¯t break her as he intended either.

    Tanner¡¯s spell finally gained purchase and the heat suffusing her body intensified rapidly. She was fully cognizant of her body and knew the spell was targeting her blood. A combination of the man¡¯s two affinities designed to take apart a creature from the inside, regardless of its defenses. A continuously damaging spell meant to counter her regeneration.

    As she thought, elites specially chosen for a job. For her.

    As she set her magic to work to preserving her life, her throat expanded, a loud croak building in her chest as the skin of her throat tinted green. Korn tried to shove her off, but the tail wrapped around his waist held her in place as she opened her mouth and belched out a cloud of green gas.

    She felt him stiffen as he stopped breathing. Fen used her claws to pry open his eyes as the ground beneath them rippled, swallowing them. Then she was trapped in solidly compacted earth, unable to properly breathe. She could feel Korn¡¯s rising panic as the poison started to do its job. In his panic, he forgot about her. Or perhaps not. Between having to claw her way out of the earth and combating her boiling blood, her core was rapidly depleted.

    By the time she broke the surface, she¡¯d estimate her mana was in the single digits. If she were human, she would have passed out from the pain of mana strain. She could endure it, but spasms wracked her body, impairing her movements.

    Her raging blood calmed, Tanner likely having sensed her poor state from how easily his own spell ravaged her body. She watched as he knelt beside Korn, who was on his hands and knees dry heaving. The fire caster reached inside his leather vest and pulled out a thin vial of yellow liquid. He kicked his ally onto his back, kneeling next to him and raising his head to make pouring the liquid down his throat easier.

    When he finished, he stood, catching Fen¡¯s gaze. ¡°Cure all. When one¡¯s greatest weakness is poison, it pays to be wary of it.¡± He walked over to her but was careful to stay out of lunging range. A shame. She could have eked out one more attack if he let down his guard. ¡°Did you think you were the first to think about bypassing his magic? Though whatever you did is certainly potent. He¡¯s doses himself with the deadliest poisons in the kingdom and has an incredible tolerance. Perhaps something to explore while you¡¯re in our custody.¡±

    ¡°Your custody?¡±

    ¡°Of course. There is a reason why you haven¡¯t already been executed. You and all the other members of the Lourianne Tome¡¯s household will be brought into our custody and we will end this farce once and for all. The others you sent aren¡¯t going anywhere, we had the entire estate surrounded.¡±

    The speck of power it took to increase her sensitivity to his thought emissions sent a bolt of pain through Fen¡¯s body, but it was all laid out. They knew of Slaid¡¯s cruel solution to the division between the guilds and the March. For once, Lou¡¯s enemies were not underestimating her. Kierra killing a guildmaster singlehandedly combined with the stories of the March had convinced them that they couldn¡¯t win in a direct confrontation, or at the very least, the losses incurred would be unacceptable.

    So, they decided to target Lou¡¯s one weakness. The people she cared for. While she assaulted their not-so-secret meeting, they stormed the estate, intending to capture as many hostages as they could. They had no illusions that Lou could stop the March, but they hoped to negotiate her out of participating.

    As for Fen, he planned to raid her mind for every secret related to Lou. Her abilities, her family, her goals. Along with anything else they could get their fingers on. They had their own mental casters. It was far too valuable a resource to leave solely in the hands of the crown. And while they couldn¡¯t match her for skill, eventually, they could overwhelm her defenses.

    She couldn¡¯t allow that.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Tanner demanded as Fen chuckled.

    ¡°You are,¡± she rasped, throat still damaged as she¡¯d run out of mana for healing. ¡°You have no idea what you have just unleashed.¡±

    ¡°Please. It¡¯s unseemly to posture at this stage. You can¡¯t do anything to me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re correct. But I can do something to myself.¡±

    ¡°Heal and I will burn you to near-death again.¡±

    Fen chuckled harder, ignoring how painful it was. She had no intention of healing. Rather, the opposite.

    With the last spark of her power, Fen reached out to Junior and gave a single order.

    Kill yourself.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-114-Lucas

    The estate was orderly, with no signs of violence or ransacking. That was good. It was important that the Teppin family was recovered without harm. As nobles appointed to govern Quest and its surrounding territory, they were officers of the court. Their life, death, and affairs were the business of the crown. If they came to harm, there would be no way to keep the king from intervening in their affairs and that was something the guilds couldn¡¯t abide.

    Quest had a complicated relationship with its monarch. When the kingdom was founded, there were essentially three capitals; Summer Spire where the politically minded gathered to rebuild human civilization, Quest where the adventurous worked together to explore their new home, and Victory where the career soldiers held back the endless tide of threats in the north. In those times, they may as well have been different kingdoms, operating largely independent of one another. Their different circumstances, pursuits, and ideals ensured that the people once united in the single goal of conquest developed different cultures.

    When the continent was settled and some measure of peace was established, Summer Spire attempted to assert the authority of the crown. The laws and demands of the capital weren¡¯t met with open arms. Rather, unsheathed swords.

    The fledgling Harvest was too unstable to handle a civil war. The king of the time decided it was best to leave the other major settlements be so long as they paid a token amount of taxes and took care of their people. It became a tradition that persisted through generations. But the longer peace lasted, the more secure the royal family¡¯s authority became and the more courageous they became in trying to put the City of Adventure under its thumb.

    The crown¡¯s methods were insidious. The royal court never used threats of violence and not for the reasons the prideful natives of Quest thought. Young and brash hunters believed that the city could fend off any army mustered by the king. An idea the leaders of the guilds supported despite knowing it was completely false.

    The royal army had thousands of fighters trained to fight together rather than in small hunting parties. They had the skill and the experience to rival any hunter, some of the captains having the power if not the versatility of named hunters. More importantly, they had the royal guard to support them, each one a master caster. Some of them were even trained at the Hall. They also could raise greater numbers with a draft and had the gold to hire mercenaries.

    In the best-case scenario, it would take days or weeks of sieging to bring down Quest¡¯s walls but it was an eventuality, not a possibility. The crown would bleed for it and then they¡¯d have to contend with dissent in the city, as the populace wouldn¡¯t go along with the change peacefully. A lot of trouble for only more trouble as a reward.

    The crown preferred more subtle methods. Winning over the merchants of the city through beneficial trade agreements and the offer of family names, poaching the city¡¯s talents, and pushing its agenda through the Teppin family. It was a conflict that ebbed and flowed, as the guilds did whatever it took to keep the capital¡¯s influence from spreading. It was their city and they weren¡¯t interested in surrendering it to anyone.

    The murder of a lord would be the perfect excuse for royal agents to descend on the city. Some of the Shields suggested involving the king in their negotiations with Victory, hoping he would safeguard the interests of the city. In truth, nothing would suit the capital more than having its two greatest concerns at each other¡¯s throat. If the crown got involved, everything was guaranteed to go straight into the Abyss.

    Lucas felt a twinge of pain as he cast a spell and the sounds around him sharpened. Sound magic, specifically communication magic, was a diverse field. Like most magic, its difficulty depended on the task. As he had a full house to cover and a long night ahead of him, Lucas chose the spell that would be the least taxing on his mana pool. The size of the area he needed to cover made it costly but simply raising the volume of all sounds in a designated area was simple.

    Raised voices drew him to the kitchen and the cellar attached to it. A man with red hair and dark green eyes leaned against the closest wall to the door in the floor between two pantries, arms crossed over his broad chest. He cursed and then jumped at how loud his word was.

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    Lucas smothered a chuckle as he canceled his spell and drew a short blade. ¡°Step away from the cellar and surrender,¡± he demanded calmly. The guilds had extensively researched Lourianne Tome¡¯s connections in the city and there was none that matched the other man¡¯s description. As such, Lucas was hopeful that he wouldn¡¯t have to fight him.

    The man raised his head, brows furrowed as he stared at nothing. Lucas almost raised his gaze to see what had caught his attention when the redhead suddenly shrugged and stepped away, raising his hands. ¡°Sure, whatever.¡±

    ¡°¡­who are you?¡± He wanted a peaceful resolution, but he hadn¡¯t expected one. At the very least, he¡¯d expected to do a lot more convincing.

    ¡°Gordon Mason, sorriest bastard in Harvest. You?¡±

    ¡°Lucas Macklemore. Interim guildmaster of the Torchbearers.¡±

    ¡°A hunter, huh? From what I heard, I didn¡¯t think you guys would care enough to rescue the nobles here. That¡¯s what you want, isn¡¯t it? Don¡¯t give me that look. I¡¯m not fucking with you. They¡¯re all fine, doing their best impersonations of rats.¡±

    ¡°You are being very cooperative for an enemy.¡±

    Gordon scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m not an enemy. I¡¯m¡­¡± He trailed off, brows once again coming down as he looked around the room. ¡°¡­did you come with some other guys? And are they fighting a woman with a tail?¡±

    ¡°If you mean the succubus, then yes.¡±

    ¡°Are they strong? Strong enough to win?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Do you think we would raid this estate without being prepared?¡±

    ¡°FUCK!¡±

    Lucas was so shocked by the sudden shout that he reflexively reached for his mana. The only thing that stopped him was the fear on the other man¡¯s face. It was overwhelming and visceral. He wasn¡¯t just scared, he was terrified.

    ¡°You need to listen to me,¡± Gordon hissed. ¡°Before she dies¡ª"

    ¡°Is that what has you worried? We have no intention of killing anyone.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s even worse and don¡¯t interrupt again, just listen!¡± the other man snapped. ¡°She won¡¯t let you take her alive to be interrogated. And don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t have mental casters. Any power with the ability to hide and train them has mental casters and the guilds qualify. She will do whatever it takes to avoid giving up her secrets, which means we only have a little time. I can¡¯t say much but¡­ah¡­dammit, not that either¡­do not touch Lou¡¯s family! Fuck!¡±

    Lucas opened his mouth to ask a question, but Gordon spoke over him in a hurried mess. ¡°You people don¡¯t know who, what, you¡¯re angering. Succubi are monsters. No, that¡¯s not the word. Hunters fight against monsters every day. You think you know monsters. Those things are abominations. They¡¯re another fucking Aggro, creatures that can and will chew this kingdom up and swallow it whole, even the bones. Why do you think the king banned their very fucking existence? Ah, I¡¯m getting sidetracked.

    ¡°Okay. The succubi want to horde all the resources of this world. Before, my father kept strict control of them because he enjoyed being a villain and holding the capital in the palm of his hand. Lou? She doesn¡¯t give a damn about that, this kingdom, or this world. The only thing she cares about is playing house. If you take that away from her, we¡¯re all fucked right to the Abyss. Are you hearing me?¡±

    ¡°¡­you need to calm down.¡±

    ¡°Agggh! If you¡¯re not going to listen properly now, at least remember what I¡¯m saying. If it all goes to hell, go to the blondie. Alana. She may be a crazy northerner, but she¡¯s got a sense of justice. At least she isn¡¯t eager to slaughter everyone like that damn elf. If you can, keep that savage out of the room. Saints, what else. What else?¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Lucas stepped forward when Gordon grabbed his hair and tugged at it anxiously, but the other man stepped away from him.

    ¡°Guh! Can¡¯t¡­come on¡­you can¡¯t beat Lou! I know what you guys are thinking. There has to be a trick, a gimmick, a spell. Something that can be broken down and understood. There isn¡¯t. She¡¯s another abomination. You. Will. Not. Kill. Her. You need to accept that and incorporate that into your plans. Ah¡­ah¡­¡±

    Lucas watched with amazement as tears formed in the corner of Gordon¡¯s eyes. He sniffed and tilted his head back, fighting them. ¡°¡­I can¡¯t tell you the important things. So¡­so¡­you need to know what kind of person Lou is. Why you need to be scared of her.¡±

    He hunched his shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ve known her since we were children. It was Grimoire tradition to destroy the Tomes. I didn¡¯t think about what I was doing. I enjoyed it, because my father praised me. I¡­we hurt her. We hit her, we threw things at her, we mocked her, we humiliated her. And we didn¡¯t stop until her own family abandoned her, kicking her and her father out of the capital. I did all those things. She cried and she cried until she cried no more.

    ¡°Her eyes were so empty, I used to think she had the Abyss in her. It gave me fucking nightmares. I almost didn¡¯t recognize her when she came back, smiling and laughing. And as much of a pain as she is, it¡¯s still better than before. If all that power is left in the hands of that broken girl she used to be, we¡¯re¡ª"

    His words cut off suddenly as his eyes glowed with channeled mana. Lucas was halfway through forming a spell when Gordon collapsed.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-115-Lucas

    At first, Lucas thought it was a gimmick and remained on his guard, ready to cast at a moment¡¯s notice. But the longer Gordon remained on the ground, the harder it was for him to maintain his tension. It was the shouts of the hiding lord, questioning the silence, that got him moving. Still, he didn¡¯t approach. Instead, he used the same spell as before, targeting Gordon. Despite that, he still didn¡¯t hear a heartbeat or intake of breath.

    It seemed he was dead.

    Lucas was confused by the strange and sudden turn of events but now wasn¡¯t the time to contemplate such things. He had a mission and a time limit. The unknowing sacrifice of the hunters used as bait to secure their advantage couldn¡¯t be wasted.

    His expression grim, Lucas stabbed Gordon in the chest. His victim didn¡¯t twitch. Despite the appearance of death, Lucas wasn¡¯t taking chances. The best hunters weren¡¯t the strongest, the fastest, or the most durable. They were the trickiest. The ones who had spells that had never been documented or had special effects. He wouldn¡¯t have been at all surprised to know there was a spell across multiple affinities to simulate death. It was just smart to make sure.

    He pulled his blade free and cleaned it before sheathing it. Then he bent over and opened the cellar doors.

    Four hands came up to shield four pairs of eyes as the brighter kitchen illuminated the gloom. Lucas was relieved to recognize all four members of the Teppin family reported to have been in the estate, in good health. ¡°The situation is secure, Lord Teppin. Please come out.¡±

    The family wasted no time coming up, each with a different reaction. Lord Teppin glared at Lucas until he looked away from the noble¡¯s unusual dress. His wife sighed with relief as she cleared the ladder but remained cautious. The oldest daughter was grumpy, muttering to herself and the youngest was skittish, flinching away from the corpse in the kitchen.

    ¡°What¡¯s the situation?¡± the lord demanded.

    ¡°Where¡¯s that purple-eyed bitch?¡± his daughter demanded with him.

    ¡°Please.¡± Lucas held up a hand to forestall any more questions. ¡°First, do you know of anyone else in the house?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± the lord responded. ¡°I believe they evacuated when they knew you were coming. Now, who are you? What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°I can explain as we move. Time is of the essence.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re running?¡± the oldest daughter shouted, voice filled with indignation. ¡°I thought you were here to handle that crazy woman.¡±

    ¡°We are, but before that, we need to ensure your safety. I will explain more later.¡± Lucas walked away from them and headed for the estate¡¯s side entrance. The family grumbled but they followed, as expected. They¡¯d been thrust into a confusing and dangerous situation. He proposed to lead them out of it. Given he¡¯d found them cowering in the dark, he figured they weren¡¯t brave enough to cause a fuss if he forced their hand.

    He was surprised to find his comrades waiting for them. More surprising was that there was no sign of the thrall. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Tanner scoffed. ¡°The creature disappeared. Something like a null spell ripped the creature away. We didn¡¯t dare try to stop it.¡±

    Lucas nodded. It was common sense not to recklessly intervene with an unknown spell. ¡°I think I have an explanation. There was a man inside that suddenly killed himself.¡±

    ¡°The summoner,¡± Korn grumbled, voice rough. ¡°If they are killed, their elemental is banished from the world.¡±

    ¡°He killed himself to keep us from interrogating them. Almost admirable.¡±

    Admirable? Lucas disagreed, both with the sentiment and their analysis of the circumstances. What he had witnessed wasn¡¯t valiant self-sacrifice. The man, Gordon, had been scared. Manic. He died with eyes full of fear and tears. It wasn¡¯t the picture of a man willing to throw himself on his sword. It almost looked as if he was forced to do what he did, but that made no sense.

    Lucas didn¡¯t have time for sense. ¡°Every member of the Teppin family has been recovered safely.¡±

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    ¡°So I can see.¡± Tanner smirked at the lord until he looked away. ¡°Anyone else in the house?¡±

    ¡°No. The thrall must have sensed us approaching the estate. She ordered everyone else in the house to evacuate.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± he asked while looking toward the Teppins.

    After noticing her father was unable to raise his head in the presence of the other men in his embarrassing state, the oldest daughter answered. ¡°There was a woman who walked around with her eyes closed, a pretty woman, a boy they called a steward, a younger girl who I think was his sister, and the pretty woman¡¯s brat. And a bunch of strong looking women.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the servants, Umphrieltalia, Yulia James, her son, and the knights spotted at the gate the other day.¡± Tanner scoffed. ¡°It would have been best if we captured both of the James daughters.¡±

    The Shields didn¡¯t have any hope that the north would give three damns about the ducal daughters being kidnapped. However, their best minds were convinced that the presence of the James women were a negative influence on Lourianne Tome. Their attempt to remove her from the conflict would go much smoother without them whispering radical ideology in her ear. Plus, Alana James was her lover. A far more valuable hostage than a potential in-law.

    ¡°Did they flee on foot?¡±

    ¡°Doubt it,¡± Rey said. ¡°The dames arrived in a carriage pulled by some really hairy mounts.¡±

    ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯ll catch them. In the meantime, Lucas. Take our horses and escort the Teppin family to a safehouse. Don¡¯t¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t draw attention and don¡¯t contact anyone until tomorrow afternoon. I know.¡± He had helped come up with the plan. It grated being ordered about like another underling, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. He had a reputation for competence, but he was only an interim guildmaster. Something that had only happened because no one wanted to stick their next out in the volatile situation. Worse, he wasn¡¯t even a master caster.

    He didn¡¯t have the qualifications to demand anything from a named hunter, especially not the one put in charge of their operation.

    ¡°What will you do?¡± The original plan was for them to detain the members of Lou¡¯s household in the estate while their forces converged on the property. It was also unexpected that they also had beasts to pull a carriage. Most mounts were rented. A ridiculous lack of detail that Lucas would normally never accept but it was impossible for them to do proper reconnaissance when anyone who stepped foot on the property was immediately discovered.

    ¡°This complicates matters but its fine. Our people are spread wide and a fast-moving carriage is easily noticed. We¡¯ll cover their tracks so our good lady doesn¡¯t have an easy time tracking them. Then we¡¯ll make ourselves. Hurry up, we don¡¯t have much time.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± The lord finally found his voice. ¡°I want to know what¡¯s going on!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on your lordship,¡± Tanner said snidely, ¡°is that good men and women are risking their lives to do your job. Protect this city. Now, there is nothing you can do to help us so the least you can do is not hinder us. That means shutting up and doing whatever Lucas there says.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª"

    Tanner spoke over him. ¡°Korn, you take care of the carriage tracks. I¡¯ll go inside, search for any notes or what not. The longer we keep Lourianne Tome in the dark, the better.¡±

    Lucas grabbed the arm of the lord before he could continue to waste their time, the rest of the family following as he dragged him through the house, ignoring demands to grab this or that. A whistle brought the horses to them as they stepped out the front door. Lucas raided their saddlebags and handed out four dark cloaks before donning a fifth himself. They mounted up, the youngest daughter sharing a mount with her mother while the oldest sat behind Lucas. Then they rode off, galloping away from the estate but slowing to a nondescript trot once they were deeper in the city.

    Half an hour later, Lucas made the Teppin family wait in an alley as he stabled the horses at a place with no connection to the guilds, a precaution in case they were tracked, shouldering the saddlebags. From one of them, he grabbed a bag full of spice strong enough to make his nose itch. He led the Teppin family to a crossroads before dumping the heady spices all over.

    From the night of guildmaster Emeritus¡¯ death, the guilds knew that Lourianne Tome, or more likely her succubi, had a powerful tracking ability. Spice was a simple trick to confuse hunting dogs. They could only hope it would be enough to stymie their methods.

    It took another hour to reach the safehouse, a simple one-story house in one of the poorer neighborhoods. The last place anyone would be expecting a lord to lie low. They got a few looks as they entered but mysterious figures moving about at night wasn¡¯t unusual for the area.

    ¡°Make yourselves at home,¡± Lucas said as he busied himself making things more hospitable, lighting candles and setting out blankets. ¡°There¡¯s only two rooms and no beds so things might get a little cramped, but it¡¯s only for a day.¡±

    ¡°This is disgusting,¡± the lord growled. ¡°Tell me you have something else for me to wear.¡±

    ¡°There are spare clothes in the other room.¡± He had been thorough in his preparations, not knowing what condition he would find the family in. ¡°Food too, but only rations. Water as well.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    Lucas stopped as a timid voice spoke up. He turned to the youngest Teppin daughter, who clung tightly to her mother. She looked at him with timid but hopeful eyes. ¡°Is it over?¡±

    His answer should have been yes. Or at least a reassurance that it would be over soon. They had painstakingly went over every scrap of information they had on Lourianne Tome and her family before deciding on their strategy. He wasn¡¯t happy with their dishonorable methods but, before the operation started, he¡¯d been sure it would work.

    Yet, when he recalled the desperation of Gordon Mason before the man suddenly killed himself, Lucas couldn¡¯t help but have doubts.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-116-Yulia

    The James family valued one thing, war.

    It didn¡¯t matter how smart, charming, kind, beautiful, insightful, or anything else the children of the family were if it didn¡¯t relate to the war effort. If it didn¡¯t improve the fort¡¯s combat ability, it was worthless. Those who didn¡¯t fight were worthless. Pacifism was a sin, disdained with the same intensity as capital crimes like murder.

    Yulia was never a fighter. She didn¡¯t enjoy any part of war. Training was painful. Her teachers told her to embrace the feeling of progress but what was the point of progress if she was miserable all the time? She liked winning and the admiration that came with it, but she hated trampling others to get there. She despised killing, especially the ruthless slaughtering that defined Victorian culture.

    But what she hated the most about war was the banality of it. Combat was an exciting experience. Facing an enemy caused the heart to pound, the body to sweat, and the mind to focus. It made one feel alive. Yet, that excitement was false. Hollow.

    All a fighter felt while fighting for their life were forced reactions, meant to ensure survival. Once the danger passed, it disappeared, leaving them with nothing but aching wounds and the mess caused by corpses. Those more sensitive to reaping lives came out of fights worse than they went in, even if they won.

    A heart pounding in fear couldn¡¯t be compared to one spurred by passion. The sweat produced cutting down enemies felt dirty compared to that worked up while working for others. The focus needed to dance on the fine line between life and death was exhaustive while the focus of an artisan honing their craft was fulfilling and enlightening.

    War was not a goal to strive for. It was a means to an end, that end being peace where the people theoretically would use the resources they obtained through the cruel battles to improve themselves and their society. Take away the goal and war became pointless. Even detrimental.

    It seemed obvious to her. That didn¡¯t mean anything. A James daughter she may be, but if she dared spread such a blasphemous ideology, her father wouldn¡¯t hesitate to disown her. Ancestors protect her, Yulia was convinced that her husband, as much as he adored and doted on her, would despise her. It might not be enough to ruin his love for her, but he would never look at her the same.

    It amazed her that Alana thought her life was easy. It had been hellish waking up everything morning to be beat senseless in the name of training, kill countless beasts, and duel her friends. She was terrified of going beyond the safety of the walls but the thought of not being a James scared her more. Her one and only campaign had been the worst months of her life. Titans didn¡¯t care about her last name or that she¡¯d rather not fight them. Countless James, far more talented and accustomed to war than she, had been buried beneath the snow. She was convinced she¡¯d join them. Her aggressively warm overtures had been a desperate attempt to leave an impression on the people of Victory, as she¡¯d been sure she would live long enough to do it through any other means.

    When she made it back to Victory¡¯s walls, she felt as if the heavy chains she¡¯d been wearing her whole life were cast away. Finally, her life was her own and she wanted to spend it giving the people of Victory the same feeling. She wasn¡¯t stupid or arrogant enough to think she could change five centuries of bloodshed in one lifetime, but she believed, or hoped very strongly, that she could at least give them something else. To show them that they could be more than swords.

    That¡¯s what she should have been doing.

    Instead, she was crammed into a carriage with three children, including her own son, several dames from the Stars, a woman with an unreadable face, and a bunch of golden balls of fluff running away from an unknown threat. Yulia came south for selfish reasons, chief among them to bolster her and the north¡¯s reputation by settling March peacefully. Yet, her good intentions were meaningless. In the end, war was a powerful means. Better, it was simple. Why bang their heads together to come up with an acceptable compromise when they could simply split the heads of their enemies?

    Victory didn¡¯t practice diplomacy. Diplomacy was based on foundation that the involved parties had something they valued, something they wouldn¡¯t want to risk losing in conflict. Titans valued nothing, including their lives. They fought to the death without flinching, preferring to take as many lives as possible rather than save themselves in the face of death.

    Humans couldn¡¯t be more different. They valued everything. As long as they attached feelings to it, a person could care for a rock more than their own lives. She thought it would be easy to negotiate a peaceful surrender.

    Never would she have imagined that people could care too much. The damn guilds attached so much value to their resources and reputations, they equated them to their lives. Alana was just as problematic, with her inflexibility. Yulia would have thought that her sister would be just as disgusted with the James¡¯ traditions, given the way the family treated her, but she was just as stoic and uncompromising as their father. She¡¯d accept peace, but ancestors forbid she do anything to work for it, especially something that made her or the north appear weak.

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    Lou was the worst of them. The noblewoman had the power to create any ending she wanted but the arrogant woman valued herself, her time and her efforts, more than the future of the whole damn kingdom! Was it wrong? Maybe not. No one was born with the obligation to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. But by the ancestors, it was annoyingly selfish and shortsighted.

    With a heavy heart, Yulia accepted that she wouldn¡¯t be able to make a difference in Quest. She just wanted it all to be over with so she could return to Victory and tend to her home devastated by the early storms. Yet now she was running for her life and would probably have to swing a sword for the first time in years.

    Really, she wanted to smack those idiotic guildmasters. Was stupidity an illness? Had the hunters thinking of making a quick bit of coin in the north caught it from the northerners and brought it back to Quest? They were making the exact same mistake as Victorians, fighting an unwinnable war. They marched against Lou, they died, they marched again. It was utterly ridiculous.

    She could guess what they wanted targeting her and the others, to control Lou, either through fear or taking them as bargaining chips. All they were doing was dooming themselves. Maybe such a strategy would work on Lou, for a while, but never on Kierra.

    Yulia hadn¡¯t been around the elf much but from the conversations she had with the foreign woman, she had a mind the hunters couldn¡¯t hope to understand. She thought of love, war, and life in completely different terms. The elf was as bad as a Victorian. And Talia was special to her. Amazingly, Lou was able to keep the elf civil but if anything happened to her flower, Yulia was absolutely convinced the city would be razed to the ground. Even if Kierra had to make a quick trip back home to enlist help. Kierra may not be a princess, but it would be stupid to think she didn¡¯t have connections as a royal. Or her own merit. She was a pure physical affinity caster. She could trade on her potential to raise an army with no effort. If she wanted, she could turn the king against the city with her magic if she wanted.

    It wasn¡¯t just for their sakes that they had to survive whatever ambush was targeting them. Yulia had to make sure they escaped untouched for everyone¡¯s sake. It was ironic. She wanted to save everyone from the fighting but in order to do that, she had to fight.

    Her grip tightened on her son as everyone in the carriage was thrown to the side, the balls of fluff squeaking as they were sent flying by the sharp turn.

    ¡°We are surrounded by hostile entities,¡± Talia said without opening her eyes, drawing the attention of the lady knights.

    ¡°How many?¡± one of the Stars asked.

    ¡°Too many.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. This is too organized. We¡¯re not going to be able to cut our away out.¡± The woman frowned. Yulia knew the knights wouldn¡¯t hesitate to sacrifice their lives, but they had a mission. They came to Quest to ensure the safety of the James family. Throwing their lives away wouldn¡¯t serve that.

    ¡°Our only hope is to hide,¡± another of the women spat. It was clear that the idea of running from a fight annoyed her.

    ¡°This group draws too much attention,¡± a third woman said. ¡°We should split up. Force¡ª" She was cut off as the carriage took another sharp turn. ¡°Force them to divide their attention.¡±

    ¡°May I make a suggestion?¡± The carriage turned to Earl. She knew Lou¡¯s steward wasn¡¯t an ordinary boy but once again he proved himself extraordinary. A normal child in this situation would be scared stiff. They certainly wouldn¡¯t have the guts to speak up amongst professionals. ¡°No matter why they¡¯re targeting us, some of us are more valuable than others. They have priority targets.¡±

    Yulia grimaced as the boy¡¯s disturbingly sharp eyes turned to her. ¡°They may be willing to let some of us go but others they¡¯ll chase to the end of the continent.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re talking about me,¡± Yulia said bitterly.

    ¡°And me,¡± Talia added.

    Earl nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure if they¡¯ve gone through this much trouble, there¡¯s no way they¡¯ll allow you and Miss Talia to escape. However, I doubt they¡¯d be eager to hunt down children.¡±

    ¡°I agree with boy,¡± one of the Stars said while narrowing her eyes. ¡°You may have a better chance of escaping, but you are also the weakest combatants.¡± Yulia had some doubts about that. She had a strong feeling that Earl would wipe the floor with her. ¡°I would hope that these hunters aren¡¯t the kind of bastards to harm children but if they are, you¡¯ll be defenseless.¡±

    ¡°Me and my sister can¡¯t fight master casters, but we are quick. Much quicker than you think,¡± Earl countered. ¡°More importantly, we know how to disappear in a large city. As long as we can break out of this encirclement, I am confident that we can remain out of their hands until my lady settles her debt with the hunters. I¡¯m also confident that I can keep Allen safe.¡±

    Yulia¡¯s grip on her son tightened as Earl¡¯s eyes moved to her son. All of her instincts screamed not to let her son out of her sight with danger closing in, but she wasn¡¯t stupid. It¡¯d be a hundred times harder to fight with him in her arms.

    ¡°Lady Yulia¡ª"

    ¡°I know!¡± she snapped. She might be soft but if her life as a James taught her anything, it was how to face hard circumstances. She glared at Earl. ¡°You swear you¡¯ll keep him safe?¡±

    ¡°I swear on my honor as my lady¡¯s steward that I will do everything in my power.¡±

    Yulia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did nothing to calm her nerves.

    ¡°It¡¯s the best decision,¡± one of the Stars said in a gentle voice. Northerners were crazy but that didn¡¯t mean they were apathetic. The lady knights understood how hard it was for a mother to entrust the fate of her child to someone else and looked at her with sympathy.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it any easier, but there aren¡¯t any good options.¡± Yulia nodded jerkily. ¡°Alright.¡±

    The Star sitting next to her clapped Yulia on the shoulder. ¡°Then we¡¯ll split up.¡±

    ¡°I am strong enough to move on my own,¡± Talia said.

    ¡°Two of us will go with you anyway,¡± the same woman said. ¡°We¡¯ll break through their encirclement first, make sure they see us in the carriage. We¡¯ll find a dark corner to drop off the kids and keep going, making sure we show off our faces. Then we¡¯ll drop off Talia with two escorts. Lastly, Yulia with leave with the rest of us, except for the driver who will use the carriage as far away as possible. We all go our separate ways.¡±

    Everyone in the carriage nodded with grim expressions, except Allen, too young to understand the reasons behind their tension as he clung to his mother fearfully.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-117-Earl

    His lady had a reputation as a frivolously indulgent woman but in truth, Lou didn¡¯t recklessly spend her, or more accurately her wife¡¯s, wealth. Accustomed to a simple life, she was satisfied by simple things. She liked the comfort of wealth more than the pleasure of spending it. However, she was no spendthrift. When she did buy something, she wanted the best.

    Something Earl was thankful for as the carriage was bombarded with all manner of projectiles as they barreled through the streets of Quest. It was a harrowing experience, but he¡¯d been trained to maintain a calm mind through worse. Everyone in the vehicle was remarkably calm, besides Allen. He¡¯d started crying after the first spell shook the carriage¡¯s walls.

    When Yulia failed to shush the boy, Earl was forced to put a few drops of a mixture meant to make one drowsy on the boy¡¯s tongue, knocking him out in minutes. He¡¯d needed to reassure Yulia many times that it was completely harmless and that he knew the proper dosage.

    Afterwards, one of the lady knights asked him why he was carrying the mixture, to which he had no good answer. It was simply common sense to carry a few mixtures, powders, and potions on his person at all times. The goal of any good servant was to have the ability to fulfill any of their master¡¯s desires at any time. A goal far beyond Earl¡¯s reach. All he could do was to prepare for as many scenarios he could think of. For that reason, he always kept weapons, medicines, poisons, and gold on his person.

    There was a heavy pounding on the front of the carriage. ¡°That¡¯s the signal,¡± one of the Stars said. ¡°Everyone, prepare yourself.¡±

    Earl stretched out his arms to Yulia. When she hesitated, he reiterated his previous promises. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of him. I¡¯m confident in my ability to escape capture but even if we are surrounded, I won¡¯t endanger his life. I swear it.¡±

    She didn¡¯t look reassured by his words, but she didn¡¯t have any other choice. The sleepy Allen was placed in Earl¡¯s arms. The steward accepted the responsibility with solemnity before turning his attention to his sister. Despite being closer in age to Allen than him, she was just as calm, stuffing the shivering flocketts into the pockets of her jacket. His lips turned up in a smile as he watched her preparations.

    He used to wish she would never have to face danger but, after they lost their parents, Earl had accepted, been forced to accept, that the world was a dangerous place. Life was full of strife no matter where a person was or their status. Better to ask that they be ready for any danger that might cross their paths.

    The carriage took another hard turn, the wheels skidding across the road. It was the signal. Anna threw open the door and dove out, Earl right behind her. As planned, they were right in front of a dark alley and the carriage never stopped, hurtling down the road without slowing down. The two siblings huddled against one of the alley walls, cloaking themselves in shadows. Earl breathed deeply and softly, slowing his heartbeat and minimizing his presence.

    He heard the hunters chasing after the others, horses blasting past their position and heavy footsteps causing roofing to rain down into the alley as more agile hunters leaped across rooftops. Earl waited until he didn¡¯t hear a trace of them. Then he waited longer. The young steward didn¡¯t move a fraction beyond the barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest. After several minutes, a soft squeak broke the silence but a quirky growl-bark from Anna quieted the beasts.

    They waited.

    And they waited.

    Allen started to stir. Earl put half a drop of his sleeping mixture on the boy¡¯s tongue and he settled.

    They continued to wait.

    Hours later, Earl finally moved but he didn¡¯t make a sound. He passed Allen to his sister before running at the alley wall, kicking off of it to grab the edge of the roof. He smoothly hauled himself onto it and crouched, stressing his senses. He didn¡¯t notice anyone in the immediate area.

    Satisfied, he returned to his sister. He reclaimed Allen before grabbing her hand. Together, they walked through the darkness.

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    Earl knew the city intimately, at least as much as was marked on the map he memorized. He¡¯d learned to effectively run errands for his lady. They didn¡¯t hurry as they moved, no different from flickering shadows if one didn¡¯t look closely as they stuck to alleys, dead ends doing nothing to impede them.

    Quest didn¡¯t have slums like the capital, the city was too prosperous for that level of disregard. Earl wouldn¡¯t have chosen them anyway. From his investigations of the city, the poor of the city were deeply intertwined with the guilds. They provided the people of the city, especially the underprivileged, with opportunities and security. They were also quick to notice outsiders. If he moved amongst them recklessly, the hunters would find them in no time.

    Instead, Earl moved towards the Myriad Zone. He had multiple reasons for doing so.

    First, the Zone was disputed territory, in a sense. There were areas of the city where the hunters¡¯ influence was absolute. The poorer neighborhoods for one. Also the markets, as most stores in the city were operated or sponsored by a guild.

    But there were also places where the hunters didn¡¯t have much influence. The richer neighborhoods close to the Teppin estate for one, as those who coveted their own power or were loyal to the crown lived there. The Hall, of course, as the acolytes were loyal to themselves first and Dunwayne second.

    The Zone was split. The guilds sponsored plenty of businesses within it but so did independent factions from the Hall. Residences in the Hall weren¡¯t cheap, for acolytes or instructors. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for them to buy homes in the city, usually in the Zone as the prices were cheap. The colorful abnormality was amusing the first time one saw it, but after the twelfth? The hundredth? For most, it was nauseating.

    There were also the researchers studying the Myriad Zone and agents of the Hall who handled the school¡¯s business, those who kept the school supplied and negotiated its services with the city.

    The guilds couldn¡¯t afford to recklessly throw around their authority within the Zone, as they risked interrupting the Hall¡¯s business. Better, any description the hunters had of the children would be compromised by the Zone¡¯s effects. Most importantly, as an area packed with plenty of taverns, bars, restaurants, pleasure houses, and businesses that catered to a good time, the people on the streets would be far too busy or intoxicated to be aware of their surroundings.

    It was the perfect place to disappear.

    Despite being the middle of the night, the streets of the Zone were plenty busy. Earl tightened his grip on his sister¡¯s hand and casually walked through the crowd. They didn¡¯t go unnoticed but those that saw them didn¡¯t pay attention for long, their gazes quickly attracted by something more interesting.

    Earl took them to a large inn near the lift to the Hall called the Sleepy Spell. It was an unimpressive building with a tacky name, but he knew it had close connections to the Hall, owned and ran by a former instructor who got into business providing reasonable accommodations to those visiting the Hall. It was staffed by acolytes and instructors frequently drank in the bar. He was sure the hunters would think twice about attacking it, if they even could find him.

    The door opened to the bar, which was packed full of boisterous patrons despite the late hour. The children got a few looks, but he ignored them as he made his way to a small desk near a stairwell.

    A young woman with dark blue skin and gray hair sat behind it, her chin resting in a palm as she stared at the wall in front of her blankly. She didn¡¯t notice Earl until he stood right in front of her, dark eyes flicking over them before her expression scrunched in confusion.

    ¡°Good evening, miss,¡± Earl said, ignoring the way the young woman¡¯s eyebrows rose as he took out a handful of silver crowns. ¡°I¡¯d like a private room on the second floor. Dinner for two and some snacks if you have them. Jerky and fruit. A jug of water also. Is that possible?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said as he placed the money in front of her, sweeping the coins up and tucking them away. ¡°Should I ask where your parents are?¡± she asked in a drab voice as she grabbed a key from under the desk, sliding it toward him.

    ¡°They¡¯re dead.¡±

    Her bored expression cracked at his words. She swallowed as she met his deadpan stare and winced when she looked at Allen. ¡°I¡¯ll have the food up soon as possible,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°Thank you, miss.¡±

    Earl tugged Anna up the stairs, hurrying them to their room. Inside, Earl laid Allen on the bed and Anna removed the flocketts from her pockets. As promised, a young girl brought a tray with their food in minutes. Earl collected the food before blocking the door with the room¡¯s dresser.

    Earl woke Allen with special smelling salts. The boy was drowsy and irritable but that didn¡¯t stop the steward from feeding him soup and a little bread. Anna needed no encouragement to attack her food nor the flocketts that ravaged the jerky. Allen quickly fell back to asleep and Anna soon followed.

    Earl remained awake. He dragged the room¡¯s only chair to the end of the bed and sat, thin knives clutched in each hand as he waited with his eyes closed, mind entirely focused on his surroundings. He had every intention of staying that way until his lady found them.

    And if anyone else did before then, he would be ready.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-118

    It¡¯s done.

    My heart is heavy but numb as I look at the destruction all around me, piles of corpses mixed with rubble from the damaged building and the floor coated with blood. It didn¡¯t take long for the hunters to break. There are quite a few survivors, those who were smart enough to cut and run when they realized what they were up against. As annoying as they are, I understand them. Why they are fighting the March so hard. Why they keep fighting me, despite losing over and over.

    I understand that they can¡¯t understand. Their leaders, who equate their resources to their power and their power to their lives, cannot understand that the north isn¡¯t trying to destroy them. They can¡¯t fathom that all this pain and loss is only meant to satisfy some bullshit tradition put in place by the crazy bastards that have been sentencing their people to death for five centuries. If it were anyone else behind it, it¡¯d be an act of war. A ploy to weaken the city, leaving it ripe for invasion. They think that if they give in, they doom their future.

    I also understand that they can¡¯t understand me. By now, I¡¯m sure the guilds, saints maybe everyone in this city, knows about me. How strong I am and how impossible it¡¯s proved to kill me. Despite that, they can¡¯t accept it. An ¡°invincible¡± enemy doesn¡¯t exist. Can¡¯t exist. There has to be a trick, a gimmick.

    It reminds me of how I used to view Kierra¡¯s pure affinity. There are plenty of stories about people who wield them. I knew she was capable of anything she could imagine but I didn¡¯t understand until I saw her magic in action. There was a disconnect between knowledge and experience.

    When I think of that, it seems obvious to me now that there was no way the hunters would make the smart decision from a few reports. I think¡­I¡¯ve handled this a bit clumsily. I don¡¯t know if I could have avoided this scene, standing with my head bowed while surrounded by death, but I could have chosen my path with a bit more intention.

    There¡¯s nothing wrong with not wanting to be a heartless villain but when lives are on the line, such considerations are nothing but a burden. I should have been more decisive, perhaps more ruthless, from the beginning. Or I should have ran away to Kierra¡¯s tree. Trying to walk a path between the two is what got me in trouble.

    Thinking positively, this whole fiasco will serve as a good lesson. Both for me and the guilds. If they¡¯re smart, losing so many people for no reason will remind them that nothing is more important than their lives. And perhaps it will inspire the hunters, accustomed to peaceful days of unquestioned authority, to do more. Expand their rigid way of thinking.

    ¡­but it¡¯s strange.

    The fight in the basement was certainly intense¡­but it was also anti-climatic. These people were meant to be the pillars of the Sword movement. Those who think so much of themselves that they think they can fight off the north. Yet, the spells thrown at me were nothing more than powerful projectiles of their elements. The weapons used were also plain steel instead of artifacts. They were hasty and uncoordinated.

    They were weak.

    I suppose being the loudest voices doesn¡¯t mean they are the strongest. The environment could have also been a limiting factor. Besides, Geneva didn¡¯t mention anything. She¡¯d know if the gathering was some kind of trap or if the hunters had any strange intentions.

    ¡°Kii.¡±

    The elf looks up from where she is examining a corpse. For what, I can¡¯t even guess. Nothing important given the way she abandons whatever she¡¯s doing and wanders over to me. She wears a satisfied smile, right at home in the destruction. Her arms are spread in an invitation and I waste no time accepting it, sighing as she pulls me against her.

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    ¡°Victories are¡ª"

    ¡°Meant to be celebrated, I know.¡±

    ¡°Then why the long expression?¡±

    ¡°I guess¡­I¡¯m just not the type to find joy in these kinds of things.¡±

    My words must sound crazy to her. I can almost hear her mind turning them over, trying to piece them together. But to my surprise, she doesn¡¯t react with confusion or insistence that I embrace my violent fate. A comforting hand lands on my head, stroking my hair comfortingly. ¡°Then I will celebrate for the both of us.¡±

    My chuckles are muffled as I bury my nose into her chest. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯m counting on you.¡±

    ¡°My summoner.¡±

    I turn my head to look at Geneva. Despite the fighting, her appearance is pristine, not so much as a speck of blood on her white dress. Her normally teasing expression is as emotive as stone. There is a tension between us as we lock gazes.

    Since the news of my father¡¯s death, my relationship with the succubi has been tumultuous. After my talk with Talia, I know Geneva¡¯s harsh words were meant to manipulate me. Since I¡¯ve broken away from that path, both sides are re-evaluating our positions. That¡¯s the next problem I¡¯ll have to tackle.

    There¡¯s no way I can face a dragon or anything adjacent to it in a year without her help.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    She¡¯s hesitating. Geneva does not hesitate.

    ¡°As a master of the mind, I believe in reason and deduction. Action should be taken based off validated facts or, if they are lacking, logical conclusions based off the information available.¡± Her tail flicks with what I think is agitation. ¡°Yet, I have lived too long to discount the power of intuition. Sometimes it is the effect of an untrained affinity. Sometimes it is the subconscious drawing conclusions from stimuli a being doesn¡¯t consciously recognize.¡±

    ¡°The point!¡± I demand, dread gnawing at my stomach.

    ¡°Something isn¡¯t right.¡±

    It must be a bad sign that she agrees with my vague feeling. ¡°Explain.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Her eyes flick over the basement. ¡°There is no evidence I can point to, no logic I can explain. That is the point.¡±

    Feeling a sense of crisis, I step out of Kierra¡¯s arms. ¡°We need to move. Kii, find Alana and the estrazi. Geneva, we¡¯re going back to the house.¡± Whatever is going on, it doesn¡¯t matter so long as everyone is safe. We can take our time figuring things out once we¡¯re all together.

    Kierra doesn¡¯t bother trying to question our bad feelings, she just jumps into action, leaping to the floor above us and sprinting away. I¡¯m quick to follow and Geneva is right on my heels. We burst out of the warehouse, my succubus left behind as my powerful body practically flies down the road.

    The smell of smoke is thick in the air but there are hardly any flames, the people gawking at the efforts to subdue them speaking with tones that suggest interest rather than fear. It soothes my worries about Alana¡¯s safety and I leap over them, my whole attention focused on reaching the Teppin estate as fast as possible.

    Even with my speed it still takes a handful of minutes. I slow down as I near the front door, the dread in my gut gaining strength. The first thing I spot is the disturbed ground. It¡¯s hard to spot. Saints, I doubt I could without my impressive eyesight. But because of my eyes, I can tell there is an unnatural pattern in the dirt. A slight unevenness. It normally wouldn¡¯t warrant a second glance but given my bad feeling that is steadily growing stronger¡ª

    Wait.

    Why is it so quiet?

    My ears should be able to hear a mouse breathing at every corner of this estate, including its expansive yard. Yet, I don¡¯t hear anything. No breaths. No heartbeats. No squeaking little balls of fluff or Talia¡¯s beautiful voice as she practices. Not even insects. Nothing.

    A shaky breath escapes my lips as I force myself to remain calm. Near the disturbed earth, I lower myself until I nose nearly touches the ground. Then I breathe in, actively trying to parse the scents.

    There are over a dozen, everyone that has come and gone from the estate for days, but four are the most prominent. Two I recognize. The first is Fen and the second is one I didn¡¯t realize I had remembered until smelling it a second time. Mr. Interim, the hunter that had so many questions. The other two are human and male. Given the presence of the interim guildmaster, it¡¯s reasonable to assume they¡¯re also hunters.

    Hunters were here and I don¡¯t hear my family.

    Breathe, Lou. Jumping to conclusions won¡¯t help. I have to remain calm, at least until I know what happened.

    Walking through the house confirms what my ears tell me. No one is home. The carriage the Stars arrived on and their mounts are also gone. There are no traces of blood, but the possessions left behind and the lingering fear of Anna¡¯s pets staining the floor of the room shared by the siblings tells me they left in a hurry.

    The picture is nearly complete and the last piece is waiting for me in Lord Teppin¡¯s bedroom, a folded piece of paper sitting neatly at the end of the bed.

    I carefully pick it up, holding my breath as I start to read.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-119

    Lady Lourianne Tome,

    If you are reading this note, then we have successfully raided the Teppin estate. We assure you that we wish no harm to you or your family. Our intentions were to retrieve the occupants of the house peacefully. If anyone came to harm, rest assured that they will be healed to the utmost of our ability and treated respectfully.

    It is regretful that we had to resort to these measures but your insistence in involving yourself with the March left us no choice. We do not know your secrets, but you have proved a powerful and unusual adversary. We admit, we are unsure what it would take to bring you down or if such a thing is within our power.

    However, we do not think that you are as irrational as Duke James and the northerners. We believe that you can understand our position. The March can demand everything we own. No object is worth more than the lives of our friends and families but without those things, their lives will be harsh, perhaps unbearable. We are willing to pay to prevent war, but we must be able to negotiate, to preserve our future.

    You, Lady Tome, are preventing that. You are the reason the James daughters are so confident in their position. If an unkillable warrior with the physical prowess to match a master caster is leading the northern armies, thousands will die. Quest may never recover. We cannot allow that, even if we must become villains.

    Our terms are simple. If you wish for your family to remain safe, you will sever your ties with the March and leave Quest until the matter is concluded. Once we have settled our grief with Victory, they will be escorted out of the city and our business will be concluded.

    If you are thinking of retaliating, we understand that you and your allies can cause significant damage but we are not afraid of your anger. We are poised to face annihilation anyway. If you do attack us or delay leaving the city, we will kill our hostages without hesitation. Their blood will be on your hands.

    We urge you to make the right decision.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    I stiffly raise my head from the note to find Geneva in the doorway of the kitchen. Her expression is grim. ¡°Fendelheim has been recalled to Burning Earth.¡±

    ¡°¡­how do you know?¡±

    ¡°When a contractor dies, the bond that keeps us on this plane is severed and the Guardian drags us back to our native realm. The process is nearly instantaneous¡­nearly. We have developed a system. When we are unexpectedly recalled, we leave behind a special scent marker.¡±

    ¡°Then Junior¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Do you think they¡ªno. Tell me what you believe are the three most likely scenarios for his death.¡±

    Her smile is unnaturally wide and shows far too many teeth. ¡°The most likely scenario is that Fen faced opponents beyond her power and ordered Junior to kill himself. If they raided the Teppin estate after you took out the Teppin knights, they would have enlisted multiple master casters for the job. If they had any sense, they would have someone with a skill that could exhaust a succubus¡¯ regenerative ability and would take her hostage. We are creatures of secrets. Anyone that knows our nature would have good reason to suspect that we know the secret behind your strength and while they could face backlash for interrogating human hostages, elementals have no such protection. She would be the perfect target, but she would never allow herself to be captured.¡±

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    ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°If the enemies were weak, Fen would have ordered him to fight. He could have been taken off guard and killed too quickly for her to intervene. My last theory is betrayal. Junior somehow communicated enough to the attackers to convince them that Fen was too dangerous to be allowed to live and they killed him to stop her.¡±

    ¡°How more likely is your first theory compared to the others?¡±

    ¡°Incredibly. The second scenario assumes the hunters are utterly senseless and the third assumes that Fen¡¯s control was flawed.¡±

    The hunters might be stubborn, but their institutions wouldn¡¯t have persisted through the centuries if they were completely incapable of learning. Succubi may not be infallible, but they are masters when it comes to the mental affinity. There might be someone out there that can slip through their control, but it certainly wasn¡¯t that redheaded ape.

    So. The party tonight was a trap. I don¡¯t know whether Slaid said the wrong thing to the wrong person or if he¡¯d been played, but the Swords¡¯ meeting was a distraction. Seeing how ruthless these people are, they could have even killed him to sell their plot and keep him from accidentally giving away their plans.

    While I was slaughtering their rivals, they came here and attempted to take everyone in the estate hostage. Or everyone connected to me. The Teppin family was likely rescued and sent on their way. If I know nobles, they¡¯re on their way to the capital to throw around their influence and stir up trouble for me. Fen is back on Burning Earth and Junior is dead. That leaves the Stars, Yulia, Allen, Earl, Anna, the fluffs, and Talia.

    ¡­they targeted the children while their strongest guardian was away.

    This is what I held back for? I spared these people so they could kidnap fucking children? I¡¯ve been agonizing over self-proclaimed villains that, at this very moment, could be torturing my steward and ripping apart Anna¡¯s mind?

    Something in me, something that has no form but I can feel anyway, trembles.

    ¡°Do you think they will keep up their end of the bargain?¡± I ask in a voice softer than a whisper. ¡°If I leave the city and abandon the March?¡±

    ¡°You know the answer,¡± Geneva answers without hesitation.

    And I do. This is my first time in this position personally, but I know how leverage works. When someone has a hold of your weakness, they don¡¯t simply let it go. If they think they can control my actions using my family against me, why would they ever let me go? Leave me free to enact my vengeance?

    Just as the Tomes existed at the whims of the Grimoires, I¡¯d be their tamed dog for the rest of my life. Worse, anyone else I care about will be in danger, as they would be another knot keeping my leash in place.

    If I give in, if I hesitate, it won¡¯t be just hunters targeting my loved ones. The crown will get the same idea. Maybe the north. Saints, perhaps even Marquis Guiness, the merchant desperate to use my wife to reach the elven markets.

    ¡°Are you a dragon, Lou?¡± Geneva says, echoing Kierra¡¯s fateful words. ¡°Or are you an exotic lizard?¡±

    Even those bastards were willing to become villains for their loved ones. Am I so weak I can¡¯t match that resolve? Who are they that I should protect them over my own family?

    No more hesitating.

    No more saving them from themselves.

    No more mercy.

    My explosive anger that has been escaping me lately explodes, growing until I think I won¡¯t be able to control it. But then it contracts, growing cold and dense. That strange thing inside of me that trembled under the force of my emotions shatters under its weight.

    ¡°And so we play a new game,¡± Geneva says with a chuckle.

    ¡°No more games,¡± I growl. I stand, folding the note and slipping it into my pocket. ¡°Search the city. The note claims that they took everyone in the house, but I find it hard to believe.¡± Victory¡¯s knights are not so easy to take down and my steward is abnormal. There is a chance some of them escaped the hunters¡¯ net. ¡°Do not engage the hunters but look for traces of them. Confirm if the contents of the note are true. If you find anyone the hunters haven¡¯t captured, do whatever you must to bring them back safe.¡± I glare at her. ¡°This is not the time to take liberties. Don¡¯t make a nuisance of yourself.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, my summoner.¡±

    Once she¡¯s gone, I make my way to Lord Teppin¡¯s office and sit behind his desk. His chair is a shit piece of furniture, with a straight back and a minimal amount of cushioning. Putting my feet up on the desk isn¡¯t enough to make me comfortable but I do what I can to relax, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. I find my anger¡­and I feed it. I nurture it and wrap it around me. I let it mold me, change me.

    And I think.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-120

    I¡¯m in the same position when Kierra, Alana, and Little Water enter, the elf leading them as she bursts into the study. My wife is a violent person, but she isn¡¯t an angry one. She dispatches enemies with disdain or anticipation, never faulting them for trying to kill her. She doesn¡¯t raise her voice when she argues, sarcastic mockery and sharp truths her preferred method of expressing her displeasure. The worst I¡¯ve seen from her in regards to her temper is the rare scowl or a stubborn frown.

    Not anymore. Her expression as she nearly tears the poor door off its hinges can only be called furious. If looks could kill, all of Quest would be a wasteland. If that look was directed at me even two hours earlier, I might be scared of her. Now, my wrung-out emotions don¡¯t have the ability to feel anything so potent.

    ¡°They took her!¡± I only have a moment to wonder how she knows before Bell scampers into the room, pausing just in front of the doorway. ¡°My flower!¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°They have to die, Lou,¡± she growls.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°You are gentle but this¡ª"

    The sound of the desk shattering as my hands slam into it, breaking it in two, cuts her off and makes Little Water flinch. I unclench my hands as I exhale, flexing them to resist the urge to pound the poor furniture into sawdust. Anything to vent this mountain of rage sitting in my gut. ¡°I. Know.¡±

    Kierra pauses and she finally looks at me. I don¡¯t know what kind of expression I¡¯m making but it causes her eyes to widen. I meet her gaze and hold it until she nods, visibly relaxing. Not much but enough to have a proper conversation. ¡°It is hard, but we cannot give in to this threat. Surrendering does not protect anyone. It endangers our whole clan, as the predators of the world will see our weakness and prey upon it.¡±

    I absently nod before turning to Alana. Her expression is sterner than usual. ¡°Do you agree?¡±

    My future knight lets out a breath. ¡°Even if I didn¡¯t, I couldn¡¯t stop the two of you.¡±

    No. Nothing can stop this now, not even the saints themselves descending from Paradise and begging me to spare the guilds. ¡°Your opinion matters. Foremost because I respect it but also because you¡¯re family. I want to know what you think.¡±

    ¡°What I think?¡± She chuckles but there¡¯s no humor in the sound. ¡°I think that everyone in this saints forsaken and ancestors cursed kingdom is an absolute moron. I think Victory should throw open its gates and let the titans eat us all. This was supposed to be simple. I¡¯m not so stupid that I don¡¯t realize this was a ploy to steal the city¡¯s resources. The fort is always in need after campaigns and they need them this year more than any other.

    ¡°Maybe it wasn¡¯t fair, but that¡¯s why we bent over backward to make it easier for them. Twenty percent would have been enough, maybe fifteen. If the idiots played their cards right, they could have worked out a deal to get more hunters into the next campaign or traded on the goodwill of cooperating to have their people get a better price for the beasts they bring down.¡±

    She rubs her head. ¡°They could have made back whatever they gave us twice, three times over. Instead, they¡¯ve left us no option but to go to war. They think my father is unreasonable now?¡± She scoffs.

    ¡°Wait until he hears about this. They kidnapped his fucking two-year-old grandson. He¡¯s going to be furious. Victory would march an army to settle a March. To avenge a James? Our family is only allowed to die beyond the Bleak Peaks. Not even old age is allowed to claim us. This won¡¯t be war, Lou. This is going to be a massacre. Blacksmiths are going to run at Quest¡¯s walls with their fucking hammers and maids are going to stab hunters with the sharpened end of brooms. This won¡¯t end until either Victory or Quest are ruins!¡±

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    Her frustration is palpable at the end of her impassioned speech. I¡¯m not intimately familiar with the fanaticism of Victory but if the hunters think the duke isn¡¯t going to be upset about them taking his family, they¡¯re idiots. On the surface, it¡¯s easy to assume the James don¡¯t care about each other. How could they and still send their children to die generation after generation?

    But I know different. The duke meeting me under the stars to quietly ask that I make his daughter happy convinced me that underneath all that ice is a loving father. I¡¯d dare to call him doting, especially to his daughters. Yulia was excused from the fighting after only one campaign and, as a bastard, Alana should never have been given her father¡¯s last name.

    I have no doubt that Quest could have incinerated a whole army of northern knights and the duke wouldn¡¯t hold it against them. Kidnapping his family is another story. The man is going to go ballistic and the rest of Victory will jump right into the crazy after him.

    But that¡¯s not what I¡¯m asking her.

    ¡°What does your justice have to say about this?¡± I ask. I need her to tell me because she is the one who can put any kind of boundaries on this thing. Right now, I¡¯m of the mind to burn the whole city and sort out the damage, material and emotional, later. Kierra¡¯s probably ready to declare war against the whole kingdom. The succubi certainly aren¡¯t going to talk us down.

    Alana is the voice of restraint. It seems I can¡¯t escape being a villain, but she is the only one that keep us all from becoming monsters.

    Maybe it¡¯s not fair asking it of her, her family¡¯s been taken and Alana isn¡¯t very merciful to those she decides are in the wrong, but I need her to be better than us. To be stronger than me.

    ¡°¡­as little collateral damage as possible. The guilds won¡¯t hurt them until they have our reply and we¡¯ll make it formal. In the morning, we should go to the Hall and enlist Dunwayne¡¯s help evacuating the city. He is a neutral party but he¡¯s the Harvest Hero. I believe he will act to save lives and his reputation will be enough to convince the people. We give them a week. No. Half that. Three days. Those too stupid to leave, those that test us¡­they accept their fate.¡±

    ¡°And the hunters?¡± Kierra lets out a sound between a hiss and a growl but I point a finger at her, a quiet signal to wait. I know how she feels but this is Alana¡¯s time to speak her mind. ¡°What about when they realize what they¡¯ve done? When they surrender? When they beg for their lives and gladly offer up everything they have?¡±

    Blue eyes containing generations of freezing cold stare at me impassively. ¡°There is no surrender in war. They rejected our mercy. Everything they are is forfeit¡­including their lives.¡±

    This is why Alana is so amazing to me. Even under these stressful circumstances, she walks her own path with unwavering determination. Her justice doesn¡¯t care about her reputation or how many lives she takes. She will do what she thinks is right, regardless of the price it demands.

    It gives me hope that I can do what needs to be done without losing myself. I slowly rise from the uncomfortable chair and wave for her to come closer. My palm caresses her cheek and her glare softens. ¡°I may not be able to save them,¡± I whisper. There are things beyond even my power.

    ¡°I know,¡± she responds in a voice just as soft. ¡°If they¡¯re lost, it¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    I wish I could believe that. Maybe later, when the thought doesn¡¯t make me want to rip someone¡¯s head from their shoulders. I pull Alana closer and she rests her head on my shoulder. ¡°I can promise they¡¯ll pay. When we finish with them, no one in this kingdom will ever think to lay a hand on our family again.¡±

    She nods and I caress her hair. Then I look past her to Little Water. The female estrazi is remarkably calm given the tension in the room, standing with her arms crossed over her chest while watching Kierra. Feeling my gaze, she looks over, her tongue darting out in a snake-like gesture as she meets my gaze. ¡°You know what¡¯s going on. Now¡¯s the time to get out of the way.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t leave without my human.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± If she has Khan, she disappears back to the north and I still have questions for the lady lizard. ¡°Khan stays with me, but I won¡¯t make you fight. This isn¡¯t your war. I¡¯d suggest you leave the city and keep your head down for a couple of days.¡±

    ¡°Do you not want extra soldiers?

    ¡°It won¡¯t make a difference. They¡¯re already outclassed.¡±

    She stares at me for a long moment before nodding. ¡°We will wait outside the walls.¡±

    ¡°Good. Rolly.¡±

    There¡¯s a flash of light and then the lueorale appears on the desk, painted in hues of deep reds, pale yellows, and streaks of black. There is no trace of her usual playfulness, but her anticipation is obvious from her fluttering wings. After all, there¡¯s only one reason for me to call for her in this situation.

    It¡¯s time to make a scene.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-121-Earl

    Earl didn¡¯t have to wait all night.

    A little over two hours after he found the room, there was a knocking on the door, three quick raps, two heavy pounds, and then a short drumming of nails on the wood. With profound relief, Earl rose from his chair and opened the door. Geneva waited on the other side, smiling smugly. He quickly stepped aside so she could enter the room and closed the door behind her.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you, Teacher.¡±

    ¡°Oh, not nearly as happy as I am to see you.¡± She waved and he obediently knelt in front of her. A finger touched his forehead and he forced himself to relax as he felt the strange sensation of foreign mana pushing into his body. There were techniques that would allow him to pull down his natural defenses, but it was far too advanced for anything but a master amongst masters. The most he could do was make his teacher¡¯s task a bit easier, though he couldn¡¯t tell by how much. She removed her finger a moment later.

    ¡°You did good. Lou will be happy.¡±

    Pride swelled in Earl¡¯s chest. He was the steward of the house, but he had no illusion that he was necessary. His teacher could do his job alongside her other duties without a problem, better than he could. Besides that, if others knew of his lady¡¯s capabilities and her future potential, there¡¯d be a queue of talented men lining up to serve her. Earl¡¯s position was nothing but his lady¡¯s mercy. Rarely did he have the chance to aid her and prove himself worthy of it. He would have acted to protect his sister and Allen regardless, but knowing Lou would appreciate it was gratifying.

    ¡°It was a matter of course.¡±

    ¡°Not at all. Lou was quite insistent that I not strip you of your will or completely remake your mind. That means I can only give you the knowledge. It is up to you to use it to make effective choices. That is your accomplishment and it reflects well on both of us.¡± She flicked her fingers and he rose. ¡°Come. It¡¯s time to return. Lou will want you close by.¡±

    -

    Earl was not accustomed to acts of intimacy.

    After his parents died, no one had time for him or his sister. If he was lucky, a kind stranger might pass on a few copper crowns or a bit of food, but they¡¯d never think to hug a dirty orphan.

    The bandits he joined weren¡¯t caring individuals. He chose them to exchange the numerous threats of the streets for the singular threat of thieving. Surviving amongst them required a veneer of strength. Not a place for hugs or hair ruffling.

    Lou saved him from that life and gave him a home, but she also wasn¡¯t a warm person, at least to her servants. Earl understood. She was not their mother to hold and coddle them. It was more than enough that she provided a warm home and ample opportunities for growth.

    Earl had given up on such things. Perhaps he would have it in the future, when he found a woman worthy to be in Lou¡¯s service beside him. In the meantime, it was good enough that he could provide those things for his sister, when she allowed him.

    That was why his lady dragging him into a tight embrace took him completely off guard. He froze as she laid her head atop his own and let out a heavy breath.

    ¡°I was so worried,¡± she whispered, voice strained with emotion.

    Earl didn¡¯t know what to do. His extensive training didn¡¯t extend to comforting someone. He had experience calming Anna but the thought of treating his lady the same way he did his wild sister was abhorrent. ¡°I¡­am fine,¡± he managed to say as he awkwardly patted her back. That seemed to satisfy her as Lou released him and patted his shoulder.

    ¡°You did good.¡±

    ¡°It was only what was expected of me.¡±

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    ¡°I¡¯d say you went far beyond what was expected of you.¡± He followed her gaze when she looked to the side, taking in the sight of Alana carefully cradling her nephew. The normally stern woman was shaking and he thought he saw tears in the corners of her tightly shut eyes. Nearby, Kierra held a sleeping Anna with a soft smile. ¡°This was going to be hard. It¡¯s still going to be hard but having you three back¡­it makes it easier.¡±

    She patted his shoulder again. ¡°Go on. Get some sleep.¡±

    ¡°I can assist you.¡±

    ¡°Nuh-uh. You¡¯ve done more than enough.¡± Her other hand landed on his unoccupied shoulder and she ducked her head so their eyes were level. ¡°I know how capable you are and I couldn¡¯t be prouder to have you as my steward but you¡¯re also a child. A prodigious child matured by far too many bad experiences, but a boy nonetheless. You¡¯re one of mine. I probably haven¡¯t done anything to inspire much confidence¡ª"

    ¡°My lady, that isn¡¯t true!¡± he reflexively interrupted, his deference pushed aside by righteous indignation on her behalf. He couldn¡¯t tolerate anyone looking down on her, not even herself. ¡°You¡¯ve done so much for us. I¡ª"

    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± She smiled but it was weak, quickly collapsing into a neutral expression. ¡°If you have faith in me, then trust me to take care of things.¡±

    ¡°I want to do something to help you, my lady.¡±

    ¡°¡­then I want you to keeping doing what you¡¯ve been doing. Protect the children. They don¡¯t need any part of what¡¯s coming. Bell¡¯s going to take you three out of the city, but she¡¯ll be busy keeping you all safe. It¡¯ll be up to you to care for them. To keep them comfortable, reassure them. Make sure Anna doesn¡¯t run off to live with wolves.¡± She chuckled but the sound contained barely any humor. ¡°Can you do that?¡±

    ¡°I can. I will.¡±

    ¡°Earl.¡±

    He looked over as Alana approached. If Lou was distant, Alana was detached. She treated him respectfully, but she had a more traditional view of servants. They were there to do a job and were otherwise unacknowledged. His lady frequently took an interest in them, stopping to ask about their day or even giving them gifts. Alana hardly acknowledged them. Her current stare was perhaps the first time she¡¯d looked at him properly.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She carefully adjusted the sleeping boy in her arms. ¡°The north is synonymous with death, but war is no place for children. They are meant to be protected. That was one point of Yulia¡¯s views I agreed with. If she¡­if the worst happens, she¡¯ll have some measure of peace knowing her son is safe.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if she was captured,¡± Earl said. ¡°The plan was to separate into three separate groups. Divide their attention. There¡¯s a chance they escaped.¡±

    ¡°If they were still free, Geneva would have found them. Either the hunters have them or¡­¡± Lou shook her head. She nodded to Alana and the blonde held out Allen, Earl accepting the boy with gentle hands. Kierra wandered over and one of her hands patted Earl¡¯s head, the elf radiating approval. ¡°It¡¯s nothing you need to concern yourself with. We¡¯ll handle it.¡±

    ¡°¡­if I may ask, what are you planning to do?¡±

    The warmth around him was stamped out by an oppressive tension as three gazes narrowed. They didn¡¯t speak but he knew the answer. He also knew that it wouldn¡¯t end with Quest.

    The leader of the bandits Earl joined, who went by the unenviable title of Rat, the boy had never bothered to learn his true name, was a legend in their business. Mainly because of his excessively theatrical nature but also because of how long he managed to go without getting caught. Being a bandit was not an occupation one practiced for longevity or security. In the end, sooner rather than later, a thief went after the wrong target and got into trouble.

    Rat had lasted longer than most because he was cowardly at heart. He educated himself about noble houses and prominent businesses so that he could better gage potential targets. And he always acted with restraint. No violence if it could be avoided and if it couldn¡¯t, absolutely no deaths. The bigger the action, the further its repercussions would travel.

    From the look on the women¡¯s faces, he knew they were about to do something very big and given their temperaments, there would be an abundance of death. Quest was its guilds and the guilds were the enemy. That meant the city was the enemy. Lou was a merciful woman, he was proof enough of that, but the mistress of the house was far from such.

    The city was doomed.

    The last time a city had been taken from the kingdom, it created a rift in the royal family that caused one king to abdicate and changed the face of the kingdom¡¯s economy as they began to trade with the invader. That was an old city that was mostly forgotten and easily ignored. Quest was more than important. It was famous, the symbol of humanity¡¯s perseverance and adventurous spirit. It was also profitable, the main point of collection and distribution of alchemical ingredients, including manabeast parts, for the kingdom.

    Harvest wasn¡¯t facing a disturbance. It was facing catastrophe, and his lady would be at the center of it. If he wanted to be of any use, he¡¯d need to be much stronger. Earl resolved himself. There was nothing he could do now but, in the days to come, he¡¯d have to work much harder for when the crisis inevitably continued.

    He never wanted to be a weakness used against his lady again.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-122-Umphrieltalia

    The hunters weren¡¯t terrible hosts.

    As their group suspected, the hunters were more interested in certain members of the family. Talia was not too far from what the kingdom would consider a master caster, having mastered all the core spells of the interrogators and possessing a coefficient of over 400, but she wasn¡¯t much of a combatant. Her affinity worked best against a restrained target in a quiet place where she could take her time whittling down their defenses and shifting through their secrets. She was confident fighting one caster of her level. Perhaps two. There was nothing she could do when she and the two Stars guarding her were surrounded by half a dozen named hunters.

    The men that apprehended them had been quite rough about subduing them, leaving red marks across her arms that would turn into nasty bruises. However, they restrained themselves to just that. Talia was restrained, blindfolded, and separated from the Stars. They stuffed her into a carriage for a few minutes and then they forced her to walk through a building, one with long, narrow halls. The journey ended in a small room with no windows, a thin bed, a simple desk with a pitcher of water sitting on a wooden tray, and a single chair. She was thrown inside and left to her own devices.

    Talia glanced at the gray walls and drab furniture before settling down for sleep. She wanted to be well-rested to face whatever they had planned for her, as she didn¡¯t believe for a moment that they would stop at just keeping her locked away.

    She was surprised how difficult it was to fall asleep. During her childhood, her bed had been nothing more than a wooden board with a thin blanket laid atop it. Throughout her training, she¡¯d fallen asleep in even more unenviable positions. It was something she thought she was accustomed to. Taking charge of the Gold Dorm for the Hall entitled her to a room no less extravagant than the richest nobles could afford but she still hadn¡¯t felt much difference between sleeping in her soft bed or falling asleep in her office.

    It took a while to realize that she didn¡¯t miss Lou¡¯s bed but the company in it. Since she had dedicated herself to the Tome clan as Kierra preferred to address them, it was rare to spend a night alone. A warm body was a different kind of comfort, one she missed.

    Sometime after she woke, morning she guessed from the small amount of light that seeped under her door, a knock interrupted the silence. Talia changed the way she circulated her mana and her normal sight reverted to the mana sight of her birth. It didn¡¯t care about obstacles and she clearly saw the vaguely human-shaped mass of mana waiting patiently for her response. A single wind affinity. It not being a mental caster gave her hope that they didn¡¯t have unsavory intentions toward her.

    ¡°Enter,¡± she called.

    She heard the door swing open and the wind caster moved closer. She swapped back to normal sight, still feeling a little thrill as she did, and took in a man with tired brown eyes entered. His thin stubble had several unkempt hairs, speaking to stressful days and long nights.

    ¡°Good morning.¡± The man kept a respectful distance, lingering near the door. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    She hummed, her pointed stare telling him to get to the point.

    He cleared his throat and motioned toward the pitcher of water on the desk. ¡°May I?¡±

    A useless gesture. As a potential interrogator, she had been taught all manner of techniques to pry someone¡¯s secrets out of them. Instilling a false sense of power to lower a target¡¯s guard and foster trust was a basic tactic. A part of her was offended he¡¯d even tried. But she played his game, waving for him to proceed. He smiled wanly as he poured himself a cup and drank of it heavily.

    ¡°Thank you. It¡¯s been a long night with no time for small considerations.¡± He set down his drink and his faint smile turned down. ¡°My name is Lucas Macklemore. You may be familiar with my brother, Lane. He tells me that he gets around the Hall.¡±

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    She stared at him silently until he cleared his throat.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to introduce yourself. Your reputation extends well beyond the capital. Particularly that you are intelligent and fair.¡±

    She continued to stare.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t an enviable position but I¡¯m hoping that you will see why we had to do it. Your¡­housemate is an unnecessary complication in an already turbulent situation. An unkillable enemy makes people nervous and the guilds need to be united against the threat of the north.

    ¡°Surely you can understand why we are taking such drastic actions.¡± His hands moved as his speech became agitated. ¡°This March cannot be allowed to proceed. The entire premise is ridiculous, a thin excuse for the north to rob us. I don¡¯t agree that they¡¯re poised for war, as I¡¯ve participated in a campaign and witnessed their fanaticism firsthand, but it is a precedent that can¡¯t be allowed. Who will be the next to make irrational demands of us at the point of a sword? The clans? The capital? Will our hunters be shaken down outside our walls until they¡¯re too busy defending themselves to make a living? No!¡±

    One of his hands slapped the table with force as his emotions surged but he quickly calmed down, composing his expression. ¡°We debated long and hard. After all, it¡¯s not easy ordering people to die. This is the choice we came up with to save the most lives. I give you my word that we will release you once we have settled things with Victory.¡±

    His words would be a lot more trustworthy coming from his mind than his mouth, but she doubted he would allow her to validate them. ¡°How long?¡± she asked.

    ¡°How long will we keep you? That intends entirely on the north. It could be a few weeks. It could be months. There¡¯s even a chance it could be years¡­but there is a way that you can shorten that time significantly. In fact, we would be willing to release you today¡­if you tell us the secret to Lourianne Tome¡¯s apparent immortality.¡±

    He held up a hand. ¡°Before you say anything, I want to emphasize that we have no intention of killing her. As I said earlier, this is an issue of morale. Our people think she is some kind of monster in a woman¡¯s skin. They think she is a creature of the Abyss born from ten generations of dead James or some other nonsense.¡± He sighed. ¡°The people of Quest are more than happy to fight the north, but their resolve is being shaken by a single woman¡¯s reputation. It¡¯s completely ridiculous, but it¡¯s the fact of the matter. If we want to protect this city, we need to humanize her. I don¡¯t care how outlandish it is nor do I want to replicate it. I just need an explanation rooted in logic. Then we¡¯ll send you on your way.¡±

    Talia had little experience judging cues like facial expressions and body language because of her eyes but that made her especially sensitive to tone. The voice was unexpectedly honest. It rose and fell with emotion, making it a dependable tool for discerning the speaker¡¯s intentions.

    He sounded earnest, which interested her. She wasn¡¯t arrogant enough to brazenly declare herself intelligent, but she was far from stupid. More relevant, she had experience with¡­interesting situations like the one she was in as the head interrogator¡¯s only disciple. There were times that their duties skirted the boundaries of both the law and ethics.

    Her benefactor had lectured her on the allure of power and the power of rumors. It made sense that the regular hunters, the masses that would face the brunt of the north¡¯s aggression, would balk at the thought of fighting Lou. They might be accustomed to risking their lives, but it would be unreasonable to ask them to throw their lives away for no chance of winning. Some people thought that there was nothing scarier than the unknown, but her teacher disagreed. Those of courageous nature could face the unknowable.

    What broke even heroes was futility. The certainty that one¡¯s efforts would amount to nothing. The futility of fighting Lou was poised to crush the guilds without the north swinging a single sword and that had to scare the leaders of the city.

    That kind of power wasn¡¯t something that someone let slip through their fingers. Lucas might not know it, given his earnest tone, but Talia was sure they very much wanted to replicate Lou¡¯s miraculous durability and she would be going nowhere until they did. She would also bet all the generous allowance Kierra gave her that the others weren¡¯t being treated quite as courteously. Her abilities weren¡¯t well known but those that did know of her understood that trying to rip the information from her mind would be another venture in futility.

    It occurred to her that if she didn¡¯t cooperate, someone far less polite would be sent in to get the information.

    Not that the possibility was relevant. The thought of a little ¡°hard questioning¡± wasn¡¯t enough to make her betray herself, as her loyalty to Lou was the basis for her entire future, but even if she wanted to betray the noblewoman, she couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Her lips turned up a fraction. ¡°I said, I do not know her secret. I can¡¯t tell you how to bring her down.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-123-Umphrieltalia

    It was Lucas¡¯ turn to stare. Then he frowned. ¡°Given your reputation, I didn¡¯t think you would be the type for pointless self-sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°Few sacrifices are pointless but that is not what I¡¯m doing.¡± Talia sat on the bed, making herself as comfortable as she could in anticipation of a long conversation. ¡°I truly don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were her lover.¡±

    ¡°Not her housemate?¡± She chuckled softly at his expression. ¡°Lover is too simplistic of a word. The closest word that you can understand is mistress but that is far from adequate. The only thing you need to know about our relationship is that I have no right to her secrets lest she deigns to share them with me. What you want is a secret she hasn¡¯t shared.¡±

    The hunter grit his teeth. ¡°You must have an idea.¡±

    ¡°None better than your own.¡± She truly didn¡¯t. From casual conversation, she knew that Lou had remade herself with the help of the succubi but that only accounted for her change in appearance and physical strength. Her ability to shrug off damage was something else entirely.

    ¡°You¡¯re not doing yourself or the others any favors.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fully aware of my situation, but you cannot change the truth of the matter.¡±

    Lucas rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°I¡¯m too tired to convince you to help yourself. The guildmasters will get what they want, they always do. Even if they have to make you suffer. This is your chance to help yourself, perhaps negotiate for benefits. I could help you come out of this mess ahead.¡±

    ¡°How will you come out of this?¡±

    Her eyes flicked over him, taking in pertinent details. Seeking weaknesses. He couldn¡¯t be someone average if he was trusted to handle her questioning, given both her ability and her connections, but his harried nature spoke of a lackey, or at least someone who took orders from another.

    He was naive, given he believed in the hunters¡¯ promises. A basic wind affinity, someone without talent. The hunters had likely given him everything he had. Their failure was his failure. If there were no guilds, there was no him. As soon as she looked for it, the desperation and insecurity were easy to see. Whatever power he held, he likely wasn¡¯t accustomed to it. She¡¯d expect someone used to giving orders to be more demanding, or at least not so easily daunted by her refusal.

    ¡°The guilds¡ª"

    ¡°You should ask yourself a question,¡± she interrupted, reassured in her observations when he reflexively stopped to let her speak. ¡°What if there is no trick?¡±

    ¡°¡­what do you mean?¡±

    ¡°What if there is no secret behind Lou¡¯s immortality? What if she is exactly as she seems, an experienced killer that will never die? Did the guilds ever think of that?¡±

    More than any other affinity, the mental affinity required finesse. Cracking someone¡¯s mind wasn¡¯t as simple as throwing enough mana at the problem, as it was with the basic elements. Intelligent beings had a natural defense to mental intrusion, a rejection of that which did not belong.

    Mental spells worked best when the target¡¯s mind was already weakened. By drugs for the crude. Exhaustion for the more patient. Fear for the cunning. Talia wasn¡¯t a figure that could inspire terror, but uncertainty was also a part of fear.

    Lucas scoffed. ¡°No, we¡¯ve never considered it because it¡¯s not possible. And this, whatever it is, is pitiful. I¡¯ll send someone¡ª"

    ¡°For the sake of debate, I will concede the point. Let¡¯s assume there¡¯s a trick. A method to Lou¡¯s invincibility.¡±

    The hunter looked annoyed as he answered. ¡°There is. There must be.¡±

    ¡°Why do you assume your people are capable of taking advantage of it?¡± His brows furrowed as he stared at her in confusion. ¡°She may have a weakness but that doesn¡¯t mean you can wield it against her. For example, what if you need dragon¡¯s blood to slay her?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no chance¡ª"

    ¡°What if she can only be slain while under the light of a scarlet moon? Or during certain days of the year?¡±

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    ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate¡ª"

    ¡°What if her body was coated in a certain alchemical solution that makes it impossible to be pierced by anything other than enchanted xanderium?¡±

    Lucas paused, jaw working as he visibly swallowed what he was going to say. ¡°¡­is it?¡±

    Talia was not one for expression, but she could fake it convincingly. Her soft laughter was sharp with so much disdain, the hunter¡¯s face reddened in embarrassment. ¡°I said I didn¡¯t know. Did you think I was lying and your overwhelming presence forced the truth from me?¡±

    His embarrassed frown twisted into a scowl. ¡°I won¡¯t be insulted by you. If you have something to say, spit it out.¡±

    She made a note to return to the topic of insults, as clearly the man was not good at taking them. ¡°I gave you an explanation that was plausible enough that you thought it might be the answer you sought. But even if it was, would the guilds be able to get their hands on a national treasure? What if her weakness is something just as outlandish? Just because you know what it is, doesn¡¯t mean you can take advantage of it. There may be a trick, but if you can¡¯t kill her, then she may as well be immortal. And my question for you is, what if that is the case?

    ¡°I don¡¯t deal in fantasies.¡± He turned away from her and headed toward the door.

    ¡°If it¡¯s not fantasy,¡± she said, her voice causing him to pause with his hand on the door, ¡°then you have just angered an enemy that will never stop hunting you. Perhaps she¡¯ll give in to your demands and leave the city, but she¡¯ll never stop. She sabotage you from outside of Quest, in ways you¡¯ll never connect to her. She¡¯ll kill the hunters that leave the city. She¡¯ll harass your trade partners until the merchants abandon you. Maybe your hostages fend her off for five weeks. Perhaps even five months. But how about five years? Fifty? A hundred?¡±

    ¡°By then, time will have taken her,¡± Lucas replied, looking over his shoulder.

    ¡°Maybe. She may die but her wife will live. Kierra Atainna. The one who killed your guildmaster. Elves naturally live for hundreds of years. An elf with a pure physical affinity will live for hundreds of hundreds, if she chooses. How many of them do you think she will need to eradicate this city?¡±

    ¡°The kingdom won¡¯t tolerate a foreign saboteur running amok!¡± the hunter snapped, turning toward her. ¡°Besides, a hundred years from now isn¡¯t the problem. We¡¯re trying to survive today.¡±

    ¡°Are you married?¡± He balked. Talia affected a sneer when he quickly looked her up and down. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask because I¡¯m interested in you, but I fear for any woman that is.¡±

    ¡°You!¡±

    ¡°Once again, you¡¯re misunderstanding. I fear for your family. As an integral party in this scheme, you are a target for Kierra¡¯s revenge. You and your descendants.¡±

    He gaped at her, eyes wide. ¡°That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous? Evil? I suppose I can understand your reluctance to consider the possibility. Only the most cowardly creatures would go after the innocents connected to their enemies.¡± He flinched at the words, but Talia didn¡¯t let up. ¡°But that door has been thrown open and there is no closing it. I don¡¯t envy you, having to explain to them that they are the target of a lifetime grudge.¡±

    Lucas sighed. ¡°Do you think we haven¡¯t considered this? That we haven¡¯t considered every possibility? The future is for the future. Right now, we have to defend our city and our way of life. If you think a few words are enough to shake our resolve, then you¡¯re sorely mistaken!¡±

    Talia ignored his words. It was obvious that his resolve was fragile or he¡¯d never have entertained her. But there was something giving him confidence. She couldn¡¯t imagine what.

    A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Lucas looked annoyed as he told whoever was on the other side of the door to enter. A grim younger man stepped into the room and glanced at Talia. ¡°What can she do?¡± Lucas grumbled, annoyed. Talia briefly entertained the thought of rushing them while they were distracted, closing her eyes as she cast a spell to sense the minds in her vicinity. The other two dozen presences in the building dissuaded her. She opened her eyes as the second hunter began to talk.

    ¡°We¡¯ve gotten a response from the noble.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s declared war on the city. Gave us three days to evacuate the civilians before she, and I quote, turns Quest to rubble.¡±

    A frustrated hand ruffled Lucas¡¯ hair. ¡°Saints curse that woman. Using the fear of the populace against us.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Both men turned to Talia. ¡°It is not a tactic but a promise. If she is asking you to move the innocent out of her way, she¡¯s resolved herself.¡±

    A faint feeling of dread made Talia frown. When she was captured, she¡¯d been concerned that the hunters¡¯ plan would work. For all her power, Lou was weak, mentally. She also didn¡¯t have much of a stake in the March. It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine her momentarily bowing to the guilds, though she had no doubt that it wouldn¡¯t end there. Even if Lou was willing to leave the city, Kierra would never allow their actions to go unanswered. The two balanced each others¡¯ reactions.

    Lou made it clear that she didn¡¯t desire war. She had worked tirelessly to prevent an all-out confrontation. If she and Kierra were united in violent intention¡­the city was doomed.

    Talia was not a selfless person. If anything, her childhood had taught her she needed to be the opposite if she wanted to survive. Yet the thought of what was coming, a whole city put to the blade, unnerved her. Harvest had never experienced such a tragedy. If it truly came to pass, it would rock the kingdom. Change everything. Maybe even Lou.

    Would she still be the same frivolous woman afterwards?

    ¡°Thanks for letting me know.¡±

    ¡°You need any help with¡­¡± The younger man looked toward Talia in what she supposed he thought was a discrete manner.

    ¡°No, I¡¯ve got it handled. Go.¡±

    He left and Lucas turned to her. ¡°It¡¯s a shame that she¡¯s chosen to make this difficult for herself.¡±

    ¡°What will you do?¡±

    ¡°As I said, we expected this. If she¡¯s going to take our position lightly, we¡¯ll have to show her we¡¯re serious.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-124-Alyssa

    ¡°I¡¯m coming!¡± Alyssa shouted, as someone banged on her front door for what felt like the hundredth time. She snatched her cloak from the back of a chair and threw open the door, expecting to find the random member of the Hall¡¯s staff given the unenviable task of hurrying her along to the impromptu meeting she¡¯d only been informed about ten minutes ago. The servant was there, standing off to the side with an uncomfortable frown. The person responsible for the knocking was Lane.

    She hadn¡¯t seen or heard from him since the night of Lou¡¯s party and was glad for it. She didn¡¯t know how to face him, which was an unusual circumstance. Uncomfortable as well.

    Victory was a blunt place. With death hanging over their heads, there was no time for subtlety. If someone was interested, they seized the moment. If they weren¡¯t, there was no time for heartbreak. She¡¯d navigated plenty of relationships and dalliances with confidence during her time as a Star, reassured that everyone knew where they stood and could handle themselves.

    Lane¡­it would be a lie to say she wasn¡¯t at least somewhat aware of his feelings. A little. It was all confusing with him refusing to say a single word or make a physical advance.

    What she knew for sure was that if Lane did have feelings for her, he wouldn¡¯t be able to take the rejection. That was obvious enough from the way he clung to her, preferring the surety of friendship rather than the risk of reaching for more. She didn¡¯t want to hurt him just as much as he didn¡¯t want to be hurt, so she left things how they were.

    His spontaneous confession was not that unexpected. It had to happen sometime. People couldn¡¯t hold in their emotions forever. She¡¯d thought about how she would tell him she wasn¡¯t interested before. Preferably, it would have been in her living room over a drink. Somewhere safe, where they could open up to each other without worry.

    She might not want to sleep with him, but she¡¯d known him for nearly a decade. Had watched him grow up. She wasn¡¯t a sentimental person but if anyone deserved a little consideration from her, it was him.

    The last thing she wanted was to yell out her disinterest before a whole crowd. Soft as he was, personality-wise, Lane was still a man with a man¡¯s pride. And she had trampled all over it when pushed into a corner. A choice she instantly regretted and had been beating herself up over looking for a way to make it right. She hadn¡¯t come up with an answer so, instead, she avoided him.

    He looked like he¡¯d gone through a titans¡¯ bowels since that night. His hair was mussed, his clothes were torn and bloodied, and he had cuts over most of the skin she could see. There was a faint hint of smoke about him, but she didn¡¯t see any evidence he¡¯d been in a fire. Still, what she could see was bad enough.

    ¡°Alyssa!¡± She expected things to be awkward when they saw each other again but there was nothing but relief in his gaze. Relief and other emotions she didn¡¯t have time to deal with. ¡°We need to talk.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a good time.¡± What was her bad luck that he would show up when Dunwayne himself had requested her presence? Or maybe it was his bad luck. Lane was obviously having a bad week.

    Her eyes widened with surprise as Lane¡¯s arms shot out, blocking the doorway when she tried to step past him. ¡°It¡¯ll only take a minute.¡±

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    ¡°This is really¡­¡± She looked toward the servant that was trying not to look impatient then back to Lane¡¯s determined gaze. It was rare to see him get obstinate about anything. Her thoughts going back to his devastated look at the party, she pushed him out of the doorway but grabbed him by the shoulder before he could protest. ¡°Come on. You, let¡¯s go.¡±

    The servant didn¡¯t ask any questions and led the way. Soon, Alyssa was dragging Lane onto a carriage. The silence was tense between them as they rode off. She smiled seeing the man¡¯s confidence crumple after getting his way. The sight of him wearing a sheepish smile while idly scratching the back of his neck was a familiar sight. ¡°Well? You wanted to talk.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I wanted to talk about¡­that night.¡±

    ¡°Lane¡ª"

    ¡°No. Please, let me speak first.¡± He sighed. ¡°It wasn¡¯t fair of me to ambush you like that. Or to get angry at you. I¡­I could have handled that better. I want to blame the drink but that¡¯s an excuse. I was frustrated and I took it out on you.¡± He bowed his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    It was Alyssa¡¯s turn to sigh, fighting her inclination to treat him like a subordinate and dredge up the consideration she owed him. ¡°¡­I¡¯m sorry to. I could also blame the drink, but I should have controlled myself. After everything, I owed you that.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t owe me anything. Though I would like it if we could sit down. I won¡¯t lie and say that I can give up on my feelings, or that I¡¯m willing to, but I refuse to let the years of memories between us be thrown out like garbage.¡±

    Alyssa chuckled. ¡°You refuse, huh?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I mean, as long as you¡¯re willing to, uh, yeah. I wouldn¡¯t try to force you into anything¡ª"

    ¡°You think you could?¡± she sniped playfully.

    Something Lane didn¡¯t understand from the way he panicked, raising his palms defensively. ¡°No, no. Wouldn¡¯t dream of it, bo¡ªAlyssa.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to push yourself.¡±

    ¡°Somebody told me that I didn¡¯t stand a chance if I kept calling you boss.¡±

    ¡°Some women like things like that.¡± She didn¡¯t know why she said it. It was almost cruel to tease him, but she¡¯d always had a bit of a mean streak. It was too amusing watching him jump, like a startled rabbit. He wasn¡¯t her type, not at all, but she had to admit the shy way he looked at her, gaze hot with repressed desire, was a little cute. Just a little.

    ¡°¡­do you?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it, brat. Just giving you some advice for your next crush.¡±

    ¡°There won¡¯t be a next crush,¡± he grumbled.

    She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she softened her tone. ¡°There¡¯s always another crush.¡± One last lesson for her to teach him. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she liked her idea. The best way to get over a broken heart was to fill the cracks with new passion. ¡°By the way, what happened to you? You look like shit.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story. I could tell you over breakfast? My treat.¡±

    ¡°No time. I wasn¡¯t kidding when I said this was a bad time.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose it has something to do with the fires last night?¡±

    ¡°Dunwayne doesn¡¯t call a meeting for a couple of buildings being used as kindling. If the Harvest Hero is getting involved, it¡¯s a threat to the kingdom.¡±

    Lane groaned. ¡°The last thing the city needs is another problem. To make my long story much shorter, all this¡ª" He motioned to his terrible appearance. ¡°¡ªhappened while I was attending a party thrown by the guilds.¡±

    ¡°What?! Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re involved with that crap.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not, I¡¯m not. It was someone else that approached me.¡±

    Before he could continue, the carriage rolled to a stop. Alyssa growled in annoyance. Dunwayne wasn¡¯t someone she could leave waiting but she also needed to make sure Lane wasn¡¯t mixed up in some mess. ¡°Here.¡± She handed over her keys. ¡°Go back to my place, get yourself cleaned up. We¡¯ll talk whenever this is finished.¡±

    He hesitated but he eventually took them. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to thank me over something like this.¡± She threw open the door of the carriage but paused before hopping off. ¡°I¡¯m glad you came to me,¡± she grumbled. If it had been left to her, they might not have ever talked again, as she would have thought it the decent thing to leave him alone to lick his wounds. She was glad things had turned out differently.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-125-Alyssa

    Alyssa hopped out of the carriage and slammed the door behind her before he could respond, her gait quick and filled with purpose as she marched toward the Casting Hall. The acolytes that recognized her called out as she walked past, but she could only spare them brief waves of her hands as she headed toward the stairs, taking them three at a time until she reached the highest floor.

    At the top, an enchanted door blocked access to Dunwayne¡¯s private floor. Alyssa channeled her magic into it and it opened to her. How it worked was a mystery. She didn¡¯t know much about enchanting, but she knew something complicated enough to record and recognize individual mana signatures was the work of a master. Perhaps beyond the fledgling masters of Harvest. She¡¯d asked Dunwayne who crafted it once and he only replied that it was a gift.

    The door leading to his office was open and Alyssa stepped inside without ceremony. She recognized all the faces as important members representing the main disciplines of the Hall, including her friends Brutus for foundation and Cynthia for alchemy. Dunwayne sat behind his desk, his tired expression showing every year of his long life. There was only one unexpected presence in the room.

    Kierra stood in the center of the room, arms crossed and back straight. Alyssa hadn¡¯t known the elf for long but if someone asked her to describe the foreigner, she¡¯d feel confident describing her as a charming and playful woman. She was the epitome of the term ¡°genius¡±, someone too talented to be burdened by life. She had a worrying comfortability with violence but had more than enough self-control to keep that one troubling aspect of her personality in check. Beyond that, she was kind, good-natured, and generous.

    There was no trace of those qualities as she stood in the center of the Hall¡¯s administrators. Her posture was tense and from the worried looks of those facing her, Alyssa could only imagine what kind of terrible expression she was making. She didn¡¯t even turn around when the redhead entered and Alyssa knew Kierra was not only aware of her presence but who she was. It didn¡¯t bode well for them if the elf was no longer being friendly.

    ¡°Thank you all for coming,¡± Dunwayne said in his usual jovial tone. That had been a shock to her. For a living legend, the Harvest Hero lacked the gravitas Alyssa would expect for a man with his reputation. As well as the ego. To anyone that had the pleasure of knowing him, he was just a kindly old man, doing his best to help the people of the kingdom. In some ways, that was more impressive than his accomplishments.

    ¡°I¡¯ve gathered everyone here on behalf of Ms. D¡¯Atainna.¡± He inclined his head toward Kierra. ¡°It seems she has a matter to discuss with us that concerns the city. I have already heard the basics, but I ask that you repeat everything.¡±

    ¡°I do not mind, as today is the last day of talking.¡± Kierra¡¯s voice was as hard and sharp as steel. ¡°You are aware that Alana has come on behalf of her father to collect what is owed to the north.¡± Alyssa winced at the mention of the March. It was still hard to believe that such an insane tradition had escaped Victory¡¯s walls. ¡°The guilds refuse to pay the debts the north says are owed to them. They are confident fending off the north¡¯s knights, but they are scared of my Lou. As they should be.¡± The elf¡¯s shoulders became impossibly tenser. ¡°First, they threatened us. Then they tried to kill us. When they realized their weakness, they instead attacked our hearts by kidnapping my flower and Yulia James.¡±

    ¡°Your flower?¡± one of the instructors asked.

    ¡°Umphrieltalia.¡±

    Alyssa sucked in a sharp breath and many others in the room had similar reactions. The guilds had to be crazy laying their hands on the mental caster. Not because of her connections to the interrogators, those that was reason enough to be wary, but because of her relation to the elf. It was no wonder Kierra gave off the impression of a caged animal ready to lash out. The woman doted on her lovers something fierce. Having Talia taken and used against her must be driving the woman mad with rage.

    ¡°They¡¯ve demanded that Lou and our clan leave the city or they will kill their hostages.¡±

    ¡°Cowards,¡± a male instructor muttered, the sentiment echoed by many others. Alyssa¡¯s dread intensified.

    ¡°If you are here, then I suspect you don¡¯t intend to comply with their demands,¡± Dunwayne said, his words soft, one step short of severe.

    ¡°No. The Tome clan has declared war against Quest.¡±

    ¡°Hey, now.¡± Alyssa couldn¡¯t stop herself from interjecting. The room turned to her, including Kierra. The redhead had to suppress a shiver at what she saw in the elf¡¯s eyes. Rage barely scratched the surface of the emotion she read in that gaze. ¡°When you say war¡ª"

    ¡°I mean exactly that. War. We¡¯re going to reduce the city to rubble. In three days, the guilds will cease to exist.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t! I mean, fucking ancestors. I understand that you¡¯re upset. You¡¯ve got every right to be, but the whole city? There are innocents that have nothing to do with this. Are you going to kill them too?¡±

    ¡°Innocents?¡± Kierra turned all the way around, her features twisting into a sneer. ¡°There are no innocents. Why are the guilds so brazen? It is because all of you, those so-called innocents, have let them do as they please for too long. Those who keep quiet. Those who assist them. Those who do nothing. They are all guilty. None would be spared¡­if it were up to me.¡±

    Alyssa swallowed as Kierra turned around, releasing her from the elf¡¯s glare. ¡°Once again, my Lou proves that she is better than all of you. She wants to protect the ¡®innocents¡¯ as you call them. That is why I am here. To give you the opportunity to evacuate the city.¡±

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    ¡°You want us to help you?¡± Cynthia asked.

    ¡°The Hall is neutral party,¡± another woman barked before Kierra could respond. ¡°Has been since its inception. That neutrality allows us to work with every faction, our acolytes setting aside personal grudges and traditions in the singular pursuit of excellence. You may be valuable as a pure affinity wielder, but we compromise everything this school stands for because you bit off more than you can chew.¡±

    ¡°¡­while the guilds actions are detestable, I agree.¡± Brutus looked at Kierra with reluctance. ¡°Since Umphrieltalia terminated her employment with the Hall, we have no grounds to intervene. We¡¯re sorry for your¡ª"

    ¡°You are misunderstanding,¡± Kierra growled, cutting him off with a steadily rising voice. ¡°We do not need your help. I do not want your help. In three days, there will be war. Do what you want but any who remain within Quest¡¯s walls will die!¡±

    Alyssa hurriedly moved out of the way as the elf stomped out of the room, throwing open the door and slamming it behind herself. There was silence until her footsteps disappeared. Then Dunwayne sighed heavily. ¡°This isn¡¯t good.¡±

    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± Cynthia asked. ¡°Surely we aren¡¯t going to stand aside while Kierra rampages through Quest?¡±

    ¡°Neutral means neutral,¡± the belligerent woman from before reiterated. ¡°I don¡¯t see what any of this has to do with the Hall.¡±

    The alchemist scowled. ¡°Neutral doesn¡¯t mean independent. If Quest is embroiled in a serious conflict, how are we going to get supplies? Acolytes and instructors have family in the city. We need the city.¡±

    ¡°Forget supplies or whatever,¡± Brutus said. ¡°I have an idea of Kierra¡¯s strength. If she goes all out, the casualties won¡¯t be small. There will be hundreds of deaths, maybe thousands.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you suggesting? Going after the hunters? Going after the elf? Either one of those could lead to the end of the Hall.¡±

    ¡°So we let them die?¡±

    ¡°Enough.¡± Dunwayne¡¯s quiet command silenced the room. His gaze moved to Alyssa, who stiffened under the attention. ¡°The reason I asked you here Allie is because you are the closest with the Tome family. What do you think of them declaring war on Quest?¡±

    That explained it. Alyssa was skilled but she was nothing special amongst the instructors and had middling influence in the Hall. But, of the people gathered in the room, she had seen the most of Lou and her lovers. Enough to hopefully steer them to the right path.

    ¡°For those who don¡¯t know me well,¡± she started carefully, ¡°I¡¯m a knight of the north. I say that so you know that I¡¯ve fought titans and I don¡¯t play political games. Knowing this, it¡¯s my belief that the city is fucked and the threat isn¡¯t Kierra. It¡¯s Lou.¡±

    A male instructor scoffed. ¡°An initiate that hasn¡¯t even completed a single year as an acolyte is more dangerous than a master caster with a pure affinity? You expect us to believe that?¡±

    ¡°You better,¡± the redhead snapped. The last thing they needed right now was undue condescension. ¡°Kierra is dangerous. Incredibly dangerous even, but she still makes sense. I understand her and what she can do, to some extent. Lou? That girl makes no sense at all. I don¡¯t know how to stop her. I don¡¯t know if she can be stopped.¡±

    The same man was going to interrupt but Dunwayne¡¯s raised hand stopped him. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve heard the rumors that hunters cut Lou¡¯s head off and she survived. I personally think it¡¯s true. The girl threw a party where she demonstrated how durable she is. The people there threw their best at her and she took it like it was nothing. No magic. No healing. The girl¡¯s regeneration is absolutely ridiculous. I think that¡¯s what drove the hunters to such extreme action. A hostile army is one thing. An unkillable enemy is another.¡±

    ¡°Unkillable.¡± Dunwayne hummed to himself. ¡°Do you agree with Brutus about the loss of life?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I more than agree. It¡¯ll be worse than any of us can imagine.¡±

    ¡°¡­then we have no choice.¡± The old hero rose from his chair and swept his gaze across the room. ¡°I have always stressed the Hall¡¯s neutrality as pointless political games only get in the way of educating the casters of this kingdom. But I ask all of you to remember why we teach in the first place. Is it for us to sit on our accomplishments? No! This school was built to train the next generation so they would have the skills to face the next crisis that threatened humanity. We exist to save lives, foremost.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­we fight?¡± Cynthia asked, the tremble in her voice reflecting the room¡¯s anxiety.

    ¡°¡­no. The guilds have chosen this fight. But we will accept Lady Tome¡¯s mercy and evacuate the city. Organize the acolytes, call it a special assignment. Brutus, the foundation acolytes will go into the city, door to door, and tell the civilians to evacuate. They are not to force anyone, but they are to stress the seriousness of the situation. It may be arrogant of me to say so, but use my name liberally. I would hope the word of the Harvest Hero still means something.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be done,¡± the large man answered.

    ¡°Cynthia, gather who you need and organize supplies. Food and basic necessities for¡­a week should do.¡±

    The alchemist balked. ¡°Supplies to last thousands of people for a week in three days? That¡¯s im¡ªer, going to be very difficult. And expensive.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be anything too fine. Once the violence starts, the people will be happy to have anything.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    ¡°Benny, we need as many earth casters as you can find creating temporary shelters outside the city. Cooperate with Brutus. We need enough walls and tents to give people somewhere to sleep.¡±

    The male instructor that had expressed his disbelief nodded.

    ¡°Wait a minute!¡± the belligerent woman interjected. ¡°I didn¡¯t join the Hall to wipe the collective ass of the city.¡± She scowled at the judgmental looks of the other instructors. ¡°Maybe all of you are eager to throw away your time and money, but I don¡¯t want any part of this. There was nothing in my contract that says I have to play hero.¡±

    ¡°Holly is right,¡± Dunwayne said before any could speak against her. ¡°None of you are obligated to lend your aid. However.¡± The woman flinched as the old man fixed her with a glare. ¡°Only walk away if you can stomach the guilt when people you could have saved die. It¡¯ll be too late for regret then.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Her words petered out and she bowed her head.

    Dunwayne turned away from her. ¡°Allie.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir!¡± The redhead responded, fighting a wave of embarrassment a moment later when she realized what she¡¯d said. With the mood being what it was, she¡¯d unconsciously reverted back to old mannerisms.

    ¡°You will take command of the Grand Watch and act as security for the temporary shelter. The biggest threat in a crisis is not the crisis itself but the panic it causes. I hope I can rely on you to impose order.¡±

    Alyssa felt a headache coming on when she imagined spending days keeping a large group of scared people from doing something stupid. But it was what needed to be done. As Dunwayne said, it would be too late when bodies started dropping. She came south to avoid senseless deaths. ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no time to waste. Remember that you are working to save lives and act with all due haste.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-126

    Things are¡­different since we resolved ourselves to war. No. Since we learned that Talia and Yulia were taken. The air is tense and a gloom hangs over the estate as we prepare to commit grim deeds. There¡¯s an emptiness in my chest, a gaping hole in my emotions that swallow up everything and leaves behind a numbness. The only thing that can escape its pull is my anger. Anger and resentment. Traces of it twist my lips into a frown that hasn¡¯t left my face since the relief of the children¡¯s safe return faded.

    Alana and Kierra wore similar expressions when they left the house in the morning, both working to preserve innocent lives. My future knight went to a scribe and printed missives that we, the Tome clan, were officially declaring war on the city. The plan was to pass them out alongside the estrazi. To shop owners, to hunters, to random passersby, anyone that would take it. That way, none could say they didn¡¯t know.

    Kierra went to the Hall. She had the best chance of getting an audience with Dunwayne. I don¡¯t expect the Hall to intervene, they are famous for their neutrality after all, but people will listen to Dunwayne if he tells them the danger is real. Hopefully, that¡¯s enough to get people moving. This is all I can do. It¡¯s all I¡¯m willing to do. My sympathy is exhausted.

    I can¡¯t even muster a smile for my lovers once we¡¯re gathered around the dining table in the evening. Geneva serves dinner but it somehow doesn¡¯t taste as good. ¡°How did things go?¡± I ask.

    ¡°It went,¡± Alana answers, her tone just as numb as my own. ¡°We handed out the declaration, slipped them under doors when people stopped taking them. Their fates are in their own hands now.¡±

    I nod before turning to Kierra. Her lips turn up but there¡¯s no happiness in her smile. ¡°Dunwayne was willing to meet with me. He called a meeting with several instructors. I told them the circumstances. It is up to them whether they act.¡±

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°He is a hero, no? He will not be able to ignore a situation where many people will die.¡±

    ¡°¡­will we have to fight him?¡±

    ¡°No. Dunwayne is a hero, not a martyr. He will not throw away his life for a pointless conflict. More over, he runs a school, not an army. His students are not his soldiers. Even if he were willing to fight, I doubt he could command them to die for Quest. I expect their interference, if they choose to get involved, to be restricted to aiding noncombatants.¡±

    Honestly, I expected far less. Bell shadowed Alana as I was pretty sure that the hunters would ambush her and I wasn¡¯t sure Kierra would even be allowed to set foot on the Hall. It¡¯s good but it doesn¡¯t matter. Casualties are unavoidable at this point. The difference between three hundred and three thousand innocents is nothing but semantics. Either way, I¡¯ll be the worst villain the kingdom has seen in generations. Maybe in all its recorded history. ¡°Then it¡¯s time we get to business. Geneva, join us.¡±

    The succubus appears at my side, tail swaying back and forth. She wants me to know she finds this amusing. The sight causes a spike of annoyance to surge, but I ignore it. It¡¯s my loss if I let her games get to me. ¡°It¡¯s time to discuss our preparations.¡±

    The hunters were given three days to preserve lives but that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re going to twiddle our thumbs during that time. We can fight the hunters no problem but efficiently taking them out is a different matter. Those of us capable of large, widespread destruction are Geneva, Bell, and me. Bell will be out of the city protecting the children and I can only throw one or two spells of that level before my mana is exhausted. Considering she would have to break through the defenses of a city full of master casters, a direct magical assault is a poor answer to the problem.

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    ¡°The question is, how do we destroy an army?¡±

    Alana leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. ¡°An opponent with overwhelmingly powerful area magic, larger numbers, and bad weather. Those are the worst things for an army to encounter on a campaign.¡±

    ¡°My people have not fought a large-scale battle in a long time,¡± Kierra adds. ¡°Our conflicts are tests of strength. The weak are suppressed and routed.¡±

    ¡°Sickness. Disease claims more lives than any natural disaster or monster,¡± Geneva comments.

    ¡°Overwhelming power is doable.¡± That¡¯s my part of the plan. I¡¯m the natural disaster that will turn the city to rubble. ¡°But it¡¯d be a simple thing for them to run away from me and regroup outside of the city. The hunters aren¡¯t going to be an organized force that marches toward us in columns. If we¡¯re going to get them all, it has to be something that can wipe them out in an instant or something that catches them by surprise. Since I don¡¯t think we can arrange something as terrible as the northern blizzards¡ª"

    ¡°It¡¯s possible.¡±

    I turn to Geneva. ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Changing the weather in such an extreme way suddenly is beyond even me but if we were to influence the temperature slowly, inducing the phenomenon rather than creating it, with the aid of the right enchantment, it¡¯s feasible.¡±

    ¡°How long would it take?¡±

    ¡°I could create the enchantment in a night and if I added my own power to it, I guarantee I could create a storm with the power to swallow the whole city. The problem would be finding the materials. I would need affinity stones of the water, fire, and air affinities.¡±

    ¡°Then you can forget it. That leaves¡­¡±

    ¡°Disease.¡± Geneva¡¯s grin worries me. Why¡¯d she even mention the storm if she¡¯s so excited for this option? Cheh. Did she want to make sure I didn¡¯t think it was her idea?

    ¡°Judging from your expression, I¡¯m guessing you can handle that much easier.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. It is one of the finest ways to use the physical affinity. Do you know what causes sickness Lou?¡±

    ¡°Is this the time for a lecture?¡± I grouse before changing my mind. Learn. Grow. Become so strong no one ever dares to do this again. ¡°Tell me.¡±

    ¡°Creatures, my summoner,¡± Geneva says with growing excitement. ¡°Tiny creatures so small you can¡¯t see them with even your eyes. Smaller than even a drop of blood. Once they enter a body, they use it to propagate, devouring it to grow and spread.¡±

    ¡°I know of this,¡± Kierra says, further horrifying me. ¡°There are those in Twilight that dabble in the study of illness. They believe that overcoming strong illnesses is a viable way to power. They are feared fighters, as no death they inflict is gentle.¡± She eyes Geneva. ¡°I suppose I am not surprised you have knowledge about this.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I only know the basics. My, hm, I suppose the best word is sister, is the true artist.¡±

    ¡°¡­you have a sister?¡± I ask, awed.

    ¡°As I said, sister is the best word that you can understand. A fellow don of the same¡­bloodline. When a succubus evolves beyond a virtue, our growth becomes incredibly slow. It¡¯s common for us to focus on improving our skills and each don normally focuses on one affinity. I chose the mental affinity. I can use the others adequately, but none are close to my mastery over the mind. My sister chose the physical affinity, particularly on improving what she calls nature¡¯s greatest killers.¡± The succubus chuckles. ¡°What I know of them is information I¡¯ve bartered for, but it¡¯s enough to handle the guilds.¡±

    ¡°Am I the only one worried that we¡¯re talking about unleashing a plague?¡± Alana asks with a scowl. ¡°There¡¯s no point in warning the city if everyone is going to die coughing up blood.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be deadly,¡± Geneva coaxes in an unnervingly sweet voice. ¡°A little bug that will weaken them, making it hard to run and harder to cast spells. It¡¯ll spread quickly and pass in days.¡±

    It¡¯s almost too perfect. ¡°Can you guarantee me that it won¡¯t kill anyone and will be contained to the city?¡±

    ¡°My summoner, this is not a ball of fire or wave of water. It is a living thing. I have plenty of data pertaining to its behavior, but life has infinite capacity to surprise. I can guarantee nothing but I¡¯m reasonably sure I can control it. That is the best anyone can hope for.¡±

    Hah. ¡°Better too much than too little. What would you need?¡±

    ¡°Only your permission.¡±

    My head feels heavier than usual as I nod. ¡°Do it.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-127

    The next morning is dark and gloomy, ominous clouds obscuring the city. A perfect match for my mood as I ride into the city. I wake to the succubi telling me that there¡¯s been a response to the declaration of war. I hardly see Kierra as she makes her own preparations for the large fight ahead and I want to spare Alana whatever sight the guilds have concocted to scare us. For those reasons, I¡¯m alone with Geneva as she drives my personal carriage.

    [We¡¯ve arrived.]

    I step off the carriage and look around, taking in the small, tightly packed residences and the crowd on the opposite street. A crowded area but the kind of place where a few suspicious people coming and going wouldn¡¯t draw much attention. I sniff the air, following the scent of blood into a rundown building with an ajar door. ¡°How did you discover this?¡± I ask Geneva as she falls in-step beside me.

    ¡°As you ordered, we searched the city thoroughly in the night. Bell saw a contingent of hunters entering the neighborhood and shadowed them. The women were already dead so she didn¡¯t engage.¡±

    ¡°Did she follow them to their base?¡±

    ¡°She did but found no evidence of any other hostages. The guilds must have kept them all separate.¡±

    ¡°That didn¡¯t stop you.¡± There is no doubt in my statement and I¡¯ll be very annoyed if I¡¯ve proven wrong.

    Lucky, for her, Geneva doesn¡¯t disappoint. ¡°Of course not. I have the location of both Talia, Yulia, and the two surviving Stars. However, they are heavily guarded and I could smell at least one mental caster at each location. They also have multiple safeguards in place to keep out strangers, including passwords and tokens that need to be exchanged with the guards on the door to gain entrance.¡±

    ¡°Can you get in or not?¡±

    ¡°This is another thing I cannot give you a guarantee on. Perhaps I can, perhaps I can¡¯t. The question is, are you ready to accept the price of failure?¡±

    Said price being the death of whoever she tries to rescue. ¡°What is your best estimate of success?¡±

    ¡°If the measures I¡¯ve seen is the extent of their preparations? Sixty percent. If there is more waiting in store, and there most likely is, I wouldn¡¯t dare estimate my chances anything above twenty.¡±

    ¡°Then forget it.¡± Right now, Talia and Yulia were valuable bargaining chips. I just had to change what they were used to bargain for.

    The inside of the building was musky, with a thick layer of dust over the bare floors and fireplace. So thick I can see the footprints of the hunters that came through, as well as drag marks. Slumped against the far wall are two bodies. Women dressed in nothing but their underclothes, similar wounds in their chest. From the looks of it, they died quickly but they didn¡¯t have an easy time before then. I turn away from the sorry sight and wave Geneva forward.

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    ¡°Hm~ The guilds aren¡¯t very hospitable to their enemies. Signs of multiple beatings, the locations of the bruises suggesting it was meant to hurt, not to cripple. A few signs of, hm, enhanced interrogation techniques. No evidence of sexual assault.¡±

    I let out a breath I didn¡¯t know I was holding.

    ¡°Each of them died to a simple stab wound through the heart. They barely would have had time to feel the pain. And there¡¯s a note. It says that unless you publicly apologize to the city for the damage you¡¯ve caused and provide reparations, then your lover will be the next body we find.¡±

    They mean Talia. I knew I was putting her at risk by going against the guilds but imagining walking into another crummy building like this and finding my flower slumped against a dirty wall causes my stomach to turn. They won¡¯t release her, but I have to delay them. Make them think twice about taking that final step.

    And the only thing that can give them pause is consequences they can¡¯t ignore. Something so personal and devastating, it shatters what they think they now about me and what I¡¯m willing to do.

    ¡°How far?¡± Geneva asks. Her tone summons the image of a tense hunting dog, its leash tight as it waited to be let loose.

    ¡°¡­five for each of them. Make it hurt. And get rid of the bodies.¡±

    I leave the building to the heat of her fire magic and her amused chuckles, holding my breath to avoid the disgustingly appetizing smell of cooking meat. My eyes narrow as I notice two people lingering near my carriage, an older man leaning against the door while a young woman pets one of the horses rented by Geneva.

    Judging from their mismatched leather armor, the weapons at their waists, and their general hostility, they¡¯re hunters. The man straightens up as I approach but the woman stays put, turning her head to watch us from the corner of her eye.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss, Lady Tome,¡± the man says without a hint of compassion. ¡°It¡¯s a shame¡ª"

    Whatever else he¡¯s going to say is cut off by my hand closing around his throat. Both of his hands grab my wrist and his legs kick me as I haul him into the air.

    ¡°You dare show your face after what you¡¯ve done?¡± I speak, my tone reflecting the numbness in my chest. ¡°Is this a joke? Do you think I¡¯m a joke?¡± My head snaps to the woman as she puts a hand on the hilt of the dagger at her waist. I stare into her eyes as I snap his neck and toss aside his corpse. Oh, she¡¯s trembling. This really feels like a joke. What did they think would happen if they confronted me after I witnessed that? ¡°You have three seconds to say something relevant or you go right after him.¡±

    ¡°I-I-I¡­¡± She swallows heavily, her eyes moving to the man and then back to me.

    Sigh. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    ¡°W-we were supposed to deliver a message a-a-and report your reaction.¡±

    ¡°¡­then deliver it,¡± I demand, annoyance making my tone harsh as she wastes time. It¡¯s too late for fear.

    My mood worsens when she refuses to talk. She flinches as I approach, legs shaking so bad that her knees knock together. I grab her by the front of her shirt when it looks like she¡¯s going to fall. ¡°What part of war don¡¯t you people understand? Did you think you could waltz in front of me without consequences?¡± My expression twists with disgust as the front of her pants becomes damp and I breathe in the smell of her piss. ¡°Don¡¯t make me rip the message out of you.¡±

    ¡°T-they s-s-said that your l-lover won¡¯t die so¡ª"

    I let her go and punch her full force in the face, caving in her head and throwing her to the ground. There¡¯s a scream and the street becomes busy as those in the vicinity hurry to get away from the crazed murderer that just bludgeoned a woman in broad daylight. I close my eyes and strain my ears, straining the sense to find any hunters that might be hiding. But there¡¯s no one, the only voices I can hear belonging to the scared pedestrians cursing me as they run. Did they really send two random people to die?

    ¡°Is there a problem, my summoner?¡± Geneva¡¯s voice interrupts my focus. I open my eyes to see her exiting the building.

    ¡°No. Take me to the estate.¡±

    ¡°As you wish,¡± she says as I climb back onto the carriage.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-128 (Geneva)

    Geneva didn¡¯t care much for her current assignments.

    It might be arrogant of her, and she believed that she had earned the right to be arrogant if she wanted, but she considered herself an artist. Above mundane atrocities like a small plague and a few murders. They were even outside of her area of interest. Slitting someone¡¯s throat in the middle of the night was so banal compared to what she could do.

    But this wasn¡¯t the time for artistry. This was the time for her to follow orders like a good pet. It was a crucial time for her summoner.

    The succubus regretted her heavy-handed approach to the death of Lou¡¯s father. It was a proper response at the time, but she didn¡¯t predict that the hunters would doom themselves by challenging Lou directly. It was obviously a losing strategy, but there was no accounting for the irrationality of the stupid.

    If Geneva had more influence within the guilds, she¡¯d have been able to anticipate their actions, but her focus and her forces had been centered in the capital. Despite the problems they were causing, they had little relevance to the big picture. Quest was a center of trade, but it was nothing that couldn¡¯t be replicated anywhere else with minimal effort.

    It was unfortunate, but she wasn¡¯t omnipotent. There would be opportunities that slipped through her grasp and, even more rarely, she would make mistakes.

    Still, her position wasn¡¯t bad. Lou rising above her anger would make her harder to manipulate in some ways, but this war would push their morals closer, making her easier to convince in other matters. And it wasn¡¯t as if the situation didn¡¯t have its perks.

    She had been longing for a proper base of operations. Lou¡¯s sympathy for her race had restricted her movements in the capital but she was sure Quest would be put under her management, if only for the short time to handle the March. Opportunities abounded.

    That thought livened her actions as she roamed the city. As night fell, she found herself moving through the poorer neighborhoods of the city. It was a simple matter to find someone with an illness to work as the base for her small plague.

    Harvest¡¯s medical practices were substandard. They had enough practice with the physical affinity that their magical healers could combat all manner of injury, from cuts, breaks, and missing limbs. However, their inquiry into the mundane methods of combating ails was lacking. Herbs and salves were far less powerful, but their abundance was their own strength.

    A healer¡¯s attention was incredibly expensive, especially for serious injuries. Life was very different for the people of the kingdom depending on their coin purse. For the specialized laborers, store owners, and more successful hunters, they didn¡¯t have to worry about their health as any hurt could be magicked away in moments. But for those without crowns to spare, they could only rely on their bodies¡¯ natural defenses, aided by whatever few folk remedies had been passed down through the generations.

    She had to ignore the first target she found, as it was a child whose mother was still alert, looking over the coughing boy sharing her bed with sharp concern. Geneva could come and go without her being any the wiser, but she didn¡¯t want to waste the small amount of mana it would cost to control the woman¡¯s perceptions and Lou frowned on unnecessary death.

    She waited until her fourth target before acting. A man on his own, his mind muddled by the fever he was fighting. What she could feel of his thoughts was indistinct, speaking of an addled mind. His heartbeat didn¡¯t so much as spike as she broke the knob of his front door and slipped inside his home.

    The front room being divided by a cloth partition said that the man had housemates, a sign that she should be quick. Not that she had any intentions of dallying. She entered the man¡¯s bedroom, another shifting shadow that went unnoticed as he curled in on himself with a powerful cough. The man startled as she crouched over him, but her hand grabbed his neck before he could utter a sound.

    The scene of someone dying was something she¡¯d seen thousands of times before. She¡¯d never cared for it and after so many years, it¡¯d lost any gravitas. It was no different from a leaf falling from a tree in her eyes. But there was something mildly interesting about what followed.

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    All living creatures had spirits. She didn¡¯t know about any religious meanings intellectual races attributed to the word. All she cared about was that the spirit was the source of mana. When one died, that spirit left them and their core quickly emptied of mana. So fast, she couldn¡¯t even feed upon it. In a blink, there wasn¡¯t as much as a drop within the man. A waste if he¡¯d had any kind of talent or training. As it was, he wasn¡¯t worth the half an hour it would take to drain him.

    The reason she killed them was because an inanimate husk was a lot easier to manipulate than a living man. It took barely five units of mana, as humans measured it, to direct the excess mucus in the man¡¯s body into an empty vial. An action that would have taken closer to thirty if she had to overcome his natural defenses. When she was finished, she left the body as it was. Given the state of the city, they hardly had to worry about someone investigating the death of a common man. The city guard, who would be responsible for such, were too scared to show their faces let alone wield any authority.

    No one noticed her as she casually walked the streets, crossing into a market district. Past the square where vendors would set up their stalls in the morning to the storefronts and workshops with attached living spaces. Five for each executed Star. Ten victims. She had been told to make it hurt¡­and she wasn¡¯t given any restrictions.

    The hardest deaths to accept would be those of community idols. Take out a leader and they were made aimless. Take out an artist and they felt bereft. Take out a military leader and they felt unsafe. Unfortunately, there was only one true idol of the city and that was Dunwayne.

    After idols, children were the next best targets. Most intellectual creatures spouted nonsense about the young being innocents and sources of infinite potential, but that was nonsense. The young could be just as the evil as the old and youth didn¡¯t guarantee potential. One thing drove creatures to protect their offspring. Survival.

    It didn¡¯t matter how extraordinary a creature was if its species ended with them. The same instinct that made one fight in the face of death made them fight for their children. To rob a being of their child was to rob them of their future. It was no different from killing them.

    There was another factor that contributed to the horror of slaying children. The same instinct that told creatures the worth of their own offspring allowed them to recognize the same of another¡¯s species¡¯. It was inherently an evil act. Ones capable of committing it were too be feared because it suggested there was no morals they would abide, no boundaries they wouldn¡¯t cross. There was no enemy to be feared more.

    Geneva had no intention of going after the children. As effective as it would be, Lou wouldn¡¯t approve and she couldn¡¯t afford displeasing her summoner anymore.

    That left the succubus with her third option. Mothers. The heart of the family. The ones who cared for the weary soldiers and gave them a reason to fight. The first comfort a child recognized.

    It would hurt¡­too much. Lou never talked about her mother but her crippling need to surround herself with women, preferably older, that adored and doted on her was telling. If too many mothers died, Lou would be upset.

    Which is why Geneva had to mix in a few of her fourth option. Honored elders. The old masters. The wise and the experienced. The keepers of traditions and stories. More than anyone else, they were a community¡¯s identity. Without an elder to show them the way, the young and rebellious strayed from their roots. Also, it would work to undermine their sense of safety. When one reached a certain age, they thought themselves beyond dying a violent death. It would shock the hunters to their core.

    First, she poured her magic into her vial of sickness, channeling her power to hasten and change the vectors of illness she¡¯d collected. She made them hardier, a touch more problematic, and encouraged them to multiply.

    While her spell did its work, she crept into different homes and performed her grim duty. Throats were slit, heads were removed, hearts were placed on bloody chests, and worse. Anything she could manage within a few minutes with a minimum of noise. She made a special exception and killed a young man as well as his wife when she noticed they had held a large dinner that night, marking them as social leaders, people who would be missed. Her victims only had one thing in common; they had a connection to a hunter or the guilds.

    Once she finished, she spread the contents of her vial. She was much less picky about who she chose to be vectors and she roamed all over the city. Vendor owners, children, city guards, hunters, merchants, bums, even healers. They all had a dab of the magicked mucus dabbed on the inside of their nose or the inside of the mouth. When they woke up, they¡¯d have a cough. By tomorrow night, they¡¯d struggle to get out of bed unless they had impressive physical strength. In three days, they¡¯d be back to a little cough and a sore throat.

    Despite her prolific maneuvers, the moon was still high when she finished but she didn¡¯t return to the estate. Instead, she continued investigating. What for, she didn¡¯t know. There had to be something that had prompted the hunters to their illogical actions. Something beyond gold and manabeast corpses. The guilds had secrets. Once Lou laid waste to them, those secrets would belong to her. She¡¯d be very annoyed if the hunters tried to sneak her rightfully deserved loot out of the city when they realized they were doomed.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-129 (Yulia)

    ¡°I must say, I¡¯m very disappointed Lady James.¡±

    Yulia wanted to spit in the arrogant man¡¯s face but after who knew how long strapped to a chair enduring his questioning, she couldn¡¯t muster the energy. Thankfully, the man hadn¡¯t resorted to truly unsavory means but the constant barrage of questions on top of the deprivation, both of sleep and sustenance, was hard enough. Though she didn¡¯t know how long such restraint would last. With each passing hour, her captor grew more irritated. Someone was applying pressure to him and she suspected it wouldn¡¯t be long until he pressured her in turn.

    The worst part of it all was that he kept asking questions she couldn¡¯t possibly answer.

    What kind of forces did the north have? How was she to know? The number of Victory¡¯s knights fluctuated severely every couple of months, decimated by the campaigns before being filled with eager hopefuls. As a James daughter, she had access to the information if she cared but it wasn¡¯t of any interest to her.

    The average strength of a knight? A ridiculous notion. The north¡¯s training wasn¡¯t standardized. There wasn¡¯t a test one had to pass to prove their competency. Complicating things further, orders like the Beasts and the Duelists encouraged their members to develop individual styles. As long as someone was good enough not to get themselves killed doing something stupid, which was more a matter of common sense rather than training, and wanted to fight monsters, they were allowed to participate in the campaigns.

    The best answer she could come up with was better than the average hunter. He hadn¡¯t appreciated her honesty.

    Perhaps the most frustrating questions were those that related to her hostess and likely future in-law, Lourianne Tome. He tried to hide it, but she was sure he was more interested in her than the north¡¯s military status. He tried to hide his true interest by asking everything under the sun, it always came back to one question. What was the secret behind her healing ability?

    As if Yulia would be privy to such a precious secret. She had no clue what kind of divine blessing or abyssal curse allowed Lou to treat fatal wounds with less concern than the average person had for paper cuts. If she knew such a secret¡­well, there wasn¡¯t much she could do with it, as speaking it would certainly earn the noblewoman¡¯s ire. Worse, it would destroy any chance of reconciling with Alana, something she finally thought she was making a little progress toward. She¡¯d share it with her husband and son of course. Who could fault her for wanting them to be safe? Despite that, she had never asked. Something like that was truly priceless. Future family or not, Yulia didn¡¯t think she had any right to the information.

    Her captor was clearly annoyed by her lack of information regarding her home¡¯s war preparations but her ignorance regarding Lou angered him. His tone always became belligerent and he had even struck her to ¡°loosen her heavy tongue¡±.

    Yulia wasn¡¯t a brave person. Nor was she particularly resistant to pain. If she had the information, she would have readily given it up in exchange for her life and the lives of everyone else that had been captured. Even if the hunters were lying about setting her free, it would mean better treatment. A foundation of trust. Something, anything, for her to work with.

    ¡°Your obstinance gains you nothing,¡± the man said. ¡°As unpleasant as our acquaintance has been, you must understand that I am the least of the evils we have considered.¡±

    ¡°The guilds,¡± she said, voice hoarse from a lack of water. ¡°You keep saying we. Us. Never giving your name. It¡¯s a pointless gesture. I know who¡¯s responsible for this.¡±

    He sniffed. ¡°The point is that things can get much worse for you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of that. I want to cooperate with you. I want this to end peacefully. You¡¯re the one making it impossible.¡±

    ¡°¡­maybe you¡¯re right.¡± She suppressed a frown as he grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. ¡°Maybe you really are a pampered lady of privilege. I suppose doting fathers can exist in the north. Is that what you are, Lady James? Another empty-headed, ignorant woman?¡±

    It took considerable control not to spout curses at him. She was still fighting the impulse when there was hurried knocking on the door.

    Her captor clicked his tongue as he stepped away and called for whoever it was to enter. A harried young man opened the door and came inside with hesitant steps, his features wide with urgency. He came up short when he spotted Yulia, eyes flicking between her face and her bound wrists.

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    ¡°Hey!¡± The second man jumped as her captor barked at him. ¡°I assume you¡¯re here for a reason.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. They, uh.¡± Another glance at Yulia before his gaze dropped to the ground. ¡°They want a¡­oh, saints.¡±

    ¡°Spit it out man!¡±

    He swallowed. ¡°They¡­want a piece. To show they¡¯re serious.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not making any sense.¡±

    ¡°Lourianne Tome. They killed two of the north women in response to her declaration of war.¡± Yulia suppressed a wince at the news. It was a blow but one she was accustomed to. Reacting now might interrupt them and they were sharing crucial information, especially as it related to her immediate future. ¡°This morning¡­they found ten people. All of them with connections to the guilds.¡±

    ¡°Connections? Was it not just hunters?¡±

    The other man grimaced. ¡°Everybody but hunters. Administrators. Clerks. One of our smiths and an alchemist.¡±

    ¡°How do we know that this was done by the Tome woman?¡±

    ¡°Do you think someone else killed so many of our people?¡±

    ¡°I think we should be sure before we start mangling our insurance. This method was meant to stop the tension between us and Lourianne Tome or, at the very least, halt it until we¡¯ve handled the north. Instead, things seem to be escalating. Isn¡¯t that a sign that things aren¡¯t going well?¡±

    The young man bit his lip. ¡°I¡¯m just following orders.¡±

    ¡°Well, now you have new orders! Go!¡± her captor scowled as the younger man stayed where he was, shuffling his feet. He shrank under the older man¡¯s angry eyes, raising a hand to block his mouth as he coughed lightly. ¡°What are you still doing here?¡±

    ¡°No offense sir, but I was told not to leave this room without¡­something.¡±

    ¡°Those useless¡ªfine! Stay here and do nothing. If she is missing any proof when I return, I¡¯ll be taking some proof out of you.¡±

    Her captor left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind him. If the two hadn¡¯t spoken a word, she would have known the situation was deteriorating from the man¡¯s loss of control. It was the first time his carefully controlled persona had shown the slightest cracks. It seemed Lou was causing quite a stir.

    It was scary to think of what would become of her should the relationship between Lou and the guilds deteriorate any further, thinking of what would become of them without the hostages to hold back Lou¡¯s family made her feel much better.

    Then there was the matter of her visitor.

    She was the one tied to a chair, but he looked far more uncomfortable, his eyes bouncing around the room as he fought the urge to look at her. She didn¡¯t know what was making him so uneasy, but she knew she could use it. Soothing unsettled hearts was what she did best.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    He jumped, eyes flicking toward her before slipping away.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t think I should tell you that.¡±

    ¡°Alright, stranger. Do you mind?¡± She jerked her head toward the table against one of the walls, where a glass pitcher of water and a cup sat. Always there to tantalize her. ¡°I¡¯m thirsty.¡±

    ¡°I, uh¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just something to drink. It wouldn¡¯t be here if it was dangerous, right?¡± She did her best to look pitiful, which took barely any effort at all given the circumstances. ¡°A little drink. Please?¡±

    At her tone, he looked over. Their eyes met and he swallowed heavily before walking over to the table. He poured a full cup and returned to her, hesitantly extending it.

    She waggled her fingers. ¡°I need help drinking it.¡±

    ¡°¡­fine.¡±

    ¡°Gently,¡± she whispered as the cup neared her lips. The stranger paused, a light flush reddening his cheeks and when he moved again, there was much more deliberation in his actions. Yulia parted her lips just so and took small gulps as he steadily poured the water. By the time she finished the cup, she felt refreshed. She didn¡¯t need to put any effort into the smile she flashed him. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Ah, um. Sure.¡± He returned the cup, coughing all the way.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a cough,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°It might not feel like anything now, but it could be something serious if you¡¯re not careful. Why are here instead of resting?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time to be laying in bed,¡± he said with a frown.

    ¡°I heard about what happened. I¡¯m sorry for your loss.¡±

    He scowled. ¡°It¡¯s your people killing them!¡±

    ¡°I know. It saddens me more than you know. I came here to save lives, if you can believe it. But that pain you feel? That is the same pain my family is experiencing right now. As long as they have reason to feel it, the killing won¡¯t stop. Something must be done.¡±

    ¡°¡­the guild leaders will do something.¡±

    ¡°Why them? Why not you?¡±

    He scoffed. ¡°Me? I¡¯m a nobody.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes, it doesn¡¯t matter who you are, but where you are. Even a simple boy can be a hero if he¡¯s in the right place at the right time.¡±

    The stranger frowned. ¡°If this is some kind of game¡ª"

    ¡°It¡¯s not a game nor a trick,¡± she said, keeping her voice the warm whisper she used to comfort broken veterans. ¡°I¡¯m hardly in a position to play games. All I can do is tell you that right now, in this moment, have the power to change the course of this conflict. You can save lives. Don¡¯t you have people you care about? Friends? Family?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do!¡± he snapped.

    ¡°Mm, of course. Everyone has people they care about. So do your guildmasters, the ones you¡¯re relying on. Who you believe in. They also have people they would do anything for. So, when they realize the mistake they¡¯ve made, when they realize that Lou isn¡¯t going to stop, who do you think they¡¯ll protect? The people you care about? Or the people they care about?¡±

    ¡°This is so messed up,¡± he muttered to himself before coughing heavily.

    Yulia waited for his fit to pass before speaking again. ¡°I can see you are a loyal man. But you have to ask yourself, who is it you should be loyal to? After you leave this room, it¡¯ll be too late to decide.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-130

    During the second day of my three-day amnesty, the city is busy. I take note of everyone¡¯s frantic pace as I stroll the city, planning my attack.

    The Hall has taken Kierra¡¯s warning to heart. Every street I walk on, I see at least one acolyte, easily spotted by their distinctive colorful robes. They are just shy of forceful as they bang on doors and direct the civilians to evacuate the city.

    From what I overhear, the Hall has plans to build a camp a short way outside the city, just far enough to be out of danger. They¡¯ll protect anyone that comes to them but that is as far as they¡¯ll intervene.

    The hunters are just as busy. I catch snatches of their conversations as they cower in their homes, drink away their misgivings in taverns, and whisper to each other where they think they¡¯re safe. Their conversations are fearful and full of doubt.

    If the war wasn¡¯t popular before, it is a nightmare now. No one, not even the bravest and most reckless, are interested in fighting. They don¡¯t care about gold, or Quest, or if they¡¯ll ever hunt again. They just want it to end. And breaking up their fearful ramblings is the constant sound of coughing, its frequency becoming more pronounced as the day drags on.

    The third day of my amnesty is somber as we finish our preparations. Kierra, who made herself scarce the days before, returns and demands food. She¡¯s been gorging herself nonstop from sunrise, demanding more whenever she runs out. A tradition, she says. Food equals energy, and war consumes energy. So she will eat all day and sleep all night. When morning dawns, she will be in the perfect state to wage war.

    Alana¡¯s preparations are far simpler. In the north, she replaced her old, tattered armor with an impressive full plate. Her family¡¯s armor, marked by a helmet in the guise of a snarling wolf. She spends the morning running. No other training, just lapping the estate. When she¡¯s done she polishes her armor and sharpens her sword. All of it¡¯s done in silence. The tension around her is so thick, I can¡¯t bring myself to approach her.

    In comparison, my own preparations are shallow. As in, I don¡¯t prepare at all. All I need to do to win this stupid war is unleash myself. Give in to my hurt and anger. It won¡¯t even take thought. Kierra and Alana have much more complicated roles, the elf tasked with weaving through the chaos to target the stronger hunters while Alana will be focusing on rescuing the hostages.

    That was a surprisingly easy conversation, as we fell into our roles naturally, the most contention surrounding Alana¡¯s role. As there will be powerful spells flying around, I could only feel comfortable if Geneva accompanies her. They will work as a team, with the succubus fighting off the powerful casters no doubt watching the hostages while Alana gets said hostages to safety.

    The problem with the arrangement is that the hostages are in separate locations, several minutes away even at my top speed. Only one can be rescued at a time. If the hunters at the hostage locations have some way of communicating with one another, and it¡¯d be dumb to assume they don¡¯t, then every hostage we try to rescue after the first will be in several times more danger. Truly, we can only have a reasonable guarantee that we¡¯ll save one.

    I never had to ask Alana to prioritize Talia over her sister. She suggested it, spouting some logic about Talia and Yulia¡¯s relative worth based on their future potential. I cut her horseshit off mid-word and demanded the real reason. If she truly hates her sister so much or at least loves Talia more, I¡¯d rather she give me her selfish justification than try and hide it behind layers of ¡°acceptable¡± crap.

    ¡°¡­I already chose our family over the north. Loyalty to the clan and all that. Besides, if Talia dies, I¡¯m convinced Kierra will lose it.¡±

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    A response that was both heartwarming and pragmatic. The frown she wore while speaking tells me that she is far from alright with the thought of sister dying but she¡¯s resolved to do what must be done.

    Both succubi are out of the house all day. Geneva hangs in the vicinity where Talia is being kept while Bell does the same for Yulia. Their instructions were to gather information about the holdings and, if the opportunity presented itself, rescue the women. Unfortunately, the hunters aren¡¯t careless. They were only allowed to move if they were certain they would be successful. Because I am certain that after tomorrow, the hunters will do anything within their power to appease me.

    When night falls, they return empty-handed. Soon after, Earl and Anna stand before me, full of reluctance. I give them a weak smile as I ruffle their hair. ¡°It¡¯s just for a day or two.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t be of service, my lady?¡± Earl asks, his conflicting desires to dutifully follow orders and to be close during a time of perceived danger clear in his tight tone.

    ¡°Help Lady Lou,¡± Anna adds with a solemn nod, while petting the three flocketts cradled in the crook of her arm.

    ¡°The best way you can help me is to be safe.¡± I try to smile but the somberness of the coming day robs it of any power. ¡°Both of you are incredible. I know you can handle yourself against a few hunters. What I¡¯m afraid of is that I might hurt you.¡± I crouch, making my gaze level with theirs. ¡°I don¡¯t want my anger to hurt you.¡± I¡¯d never forgive myself.

    ¡°¡­I understand,¡± Earl says with reluctance as Anna pouts ¡°We will see to our safety. You won¡¯t have to worry about us.¡± He bows deeply before turning to his sister. ¡°Come on.¡± He holds out a hand to Anna who stops petting her fluff balls to take it.

    ¡°Lady Lou stay safe too,¡± Anna calls over her shoulder as her brother leads her to the back entrance of the estate.

    I look down at the imp waiting at my feet. ¡°Take care of them. If they¡¯re harmed, you will be held accountable.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± {I will not fail you, Lou.}

    No, she won¡¯t. Not on this. ¡°Go.¡±

    She scampers off. Soon after, I hear the back door open and close. The sound sends a wave of relief through me, though it doesn¡¯t soothe me for long. I turn to Geneva, who waited patiently during my goodbyes. ¡°You have one more task for tonight. Search for the Teppin family. If they remain in the city and you can do so without expending a significant amount of mana, capture them and stash them somewhere you are reasonably confident they will not be harmed or found until tomorrow night. If they are outside of the city, return.¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡± If she feels any kind of way about being asked to work around the clock, she doesn¡¯t let it slip into her tone or show on her features.

    That¡¯s it then, all the meager preparations handled. I briefly consider joining in on Kierra¡¯s feast or sitting with Alana, but I discard both ideas. I may be resolved to do what needs to be done but it feels terrible. So terrible, I want someone to comfort me, make all the bad feelings go away. And I can¡¯t afford that.

    It may be a groundless worry, but I feel that if I give in to these feelings, if I soften even a fraction, I¡¯ll balk tomorrow. I¡¯m afraid that if I sit with my lovers, they¡¯ll try and soothe me. Or worse, they won¡¯t. That¡¯d break me in a different way. I hate to see what this is doing to them. The idea that it could be permanent, a very real possibility if Talia or Yulia dies, is heartbreaking.

    The more I think of it, the angrier I get at those that have forced us into this situation. Thoughts I indulge in as I crawl into bed, deciding on an early night. Anger is good.

    I drift through the passing hours, too wired to fall asleep but too somber to bother doing anything else. Kierra is the first to join me. I can feel her full stomach as she presses against my back and curls around me. She¡¯s not in the mood to talk either as her hand softly strokes my chest, though only for a short while. Soon, her breaths become deeper and her hand falls to the bed, sleep taking her in record time.

    Alana enters the room what has to be at least an hour later. ¡°Still awake?¡± she asks, turning her back to me as she strips alongside the bed.

    ¡°Can¡¯t sleep.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± Normally, she likes to wear something to bed but she clearly can¡¯t be bothered as she climbs under the covers without a stitch of clothing. I¡¯m a little disappointed that she sleeps with her back to me, but I let it be.

    ¡°Lou?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Whatever happens tomorrow¡­we don¡¯t let it stop us. We stop, we doubt¡­we change? Then it¡¯s their win. No matter how many we kill or how shattered they are, they win.¡±

    What a thing she¡¯s asking of me. But, as always, I can deny her nothing. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-131

    Time¡¯s up.

    I drifted off sometime in the night but Kierra practically leaping out of bed wakes me. She pauses in the middle of dressing when she feels my eyes on her and leans over me to plant a quick but hungry kiss on my lips. ¡°I shall go first, my love,¡± she whispers.

    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to move alone,¡± I respond in just as soft a tone, still not thrilled with her chosen role. ¡°They¡¯ll be looking for you.¡±

    ¡°They will never find me,¡± she growls. ¡°Tonight, we do not fight. We hunt.¡±

    One more aggressive kiss and she flies out of the room. As she says, Kierra isn¡¯t fighting. Despite her prodigious strength and the most common use of the physical affinity in combat being buffing martial fighters, she is at her most deadly at range. It¡¯s easy to forget that her best weapon is the bow, given how much she enjoys wrestling her prey and the multitude of blades she carries with her.

    A berserker can be annoying in the right circumstances, especially if they can heal themselves, but they are ultimately easy to counter. If she¡¯s in the thick of things, her regeneration can be overwhelmed, her mana exhausted. I¡¯ve managed to do so on my own, despite my lack of experience.

    She¡¯d do a lot of damage running at the hunters headfirst, but she¡¯ll do a whole lot more using her power in bursts, putting an arrow through an unsuspecting hunter before disappearing without a trace. With me taking point and Geneva watching over Alana, she doesn¡¯t have to worry about anything else. Just reaping as many lives as she can or pleases.

    In comparison, Alana is much slower to rise and far more thorough in her preparations. It starts with fluttering eyes and scrunched eyebrows. I catch only a hint of her baby blues as she stretches jerkily. She¡¯s strong, stern, and admirable, but graceful? Not very much.

    Geneva is at the side of the bed with a bowl of steaming water and a rag when she slips out of the bed. After washing her face, she is much more alert. The succubus brings her armor and helps her don it, finishing with a dark cloak borrowed from the estrazi to hide its details.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get going,¡± she says, voice sounding a touch deeper, a touch more menacing, through her helmet. ¡°It¡¯ll take about an hour for us to get into position.¡±

    ¡°Be careful. They¡¯ll be looking for us.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t like what they find.¡± She pauses before reaching a gauntleted hand toward me. The feel of the cool metal is a little uncomfortable, but I don¡¯t pull away when she strokes my cheek. ¡°Remember what I said?¡±

    I sigh. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Whatever happens today, I love you. That won¡¯t change.¡±

    I lean into her touch. ¡°Love you too, sweetie. Go be a hero.¡± Somehow, it feels right that she is the only one whose actions will be beyond reproach today. I have no doubt that she¡¯d grimly accept a role similar to Kierra¡¯s. It¡¯s my own selfishness that makes me want to see her, hm, unspoiled. As vigorously righteous as the day I met her.

    A calm settles over me as she leaves the room. Something adjacent to the numbness of the previous days. Acceptance, maybe. This is the path I¡¯ve chosen. For better or worse, no matter what I become after this, it was my decision. I don¡¯t ask for much. Only that I do right by my chosen family and that my divine father looks down on me fondly. The world is a crazy place, something I learned intimately once I really started living, but I¡¯m sure I can manage those two things. That has to be enough.

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    If it isn¡¯t, then I¡¯ll go somewhere it is. And if that place doesn¡¯t exist, I¡¯ll smash a corner of the world and create it.

    I entertain dark thoughts as the minutes pass.

    Faster than ever before, my hour is up, announced by the rapidly rising sun spilling an annoying amount of light into the bedroom. I¡¯m even less graceful than my knight as I roll to my feet and stumble out of the room, becoming more coherent with every step.

    The grounds surrounding the estate still look terrible. I can¡¯t justify doing anything grand with it, as the estate isn¡¯t our home and I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be staying for too much longer, but it¡¯s just depressing to look at for any length of time. Maybe we can plant some grass before we go. The Teppin knights were nothing and worth nothing, but the poor fields are innocent. They don¡¯t deserve to be scarred.

    ¡°Rolly.¡±

    My elemental appears in front of me in a burst of color. ¡°Is it starting?¡± she trills in obvious excitement, flashing in shades of yellow, orange, and bright reds that border on pink. ¡°You¡¯re a little far from the action.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get there soon enough. Thought you¡¯d want a front row seat to the play.¡±

    She laughs, the sound of tinkling bells. ¡°I¡¯m always watching you, my summoner. After all, that is part of our contract.¡±

    That¡¯s right. Rolly agreed to follow me so that, one day, she could tell my story. Well, this should be an interesting scene. ¡°You should move away,¡± I warn, before shrugging off my prime form. Then I take it a step further and relax my control over my ooze.

    My elemental form expanding to its full size is¡­comfortable. Like kicking off a pair of snug shoes after a long day. Beyond that, I feel strong. Saints, it¡¯d be hard not to feel powerful when I¡¯m larger than the estate, my massive form throwing most of the main building into shadow.

    ¡°Whoa!¡± A speck of light flies in front of me as my lueorale grows more excited. ¡°You didn¡¯t smell anything like a human but what is this? You kind of remind me of ***** but that¡¯s not possible. Some kind of descendant? Hybrid? Oh, this is going to be good!¡±

    I ignore the little lightfly, as Kierra calls her. Her comments are interesting and I make a note to explore them later, but not now.

    Now, it¡¯s time to be the villain.

    I move forward, taking a moment to adjust to the rolling-sliding movement of my oozey body. Thankfully, everything about this body is instinctive. It doesn¡¯t take long to become accustomed to it and soon I¡¯m barreling toward the city.

    I¡¯m not just big. I¡¯m enormous. As tall and wide as I am, I might as well be a moving hill.  A hill moving at my speed? The poor buildings don¡¯t stand a chance. I don¡¯t even feel the impact as barrel over and through them. Whipping out a tentacle thicker than a tree and several times longer decimates them a row at a time. In the face of that kind of destruction, the people too foolish to get out of the way can¡¯t even be considered. I can hear them as they scream and run, but their voices sound weak. Tiny. Not too different from the buzzing of insects, but with more varying tones.

    It doesn¡¯t take long for the hunters to notice me. In this form, I can see all around my body. In front of me, hunters crowd my base with swords and spears, doing more running than fighting as they quickly come to the realization that they can¡¯t do anything to slow my forward momentum. I can see the hunters behind me, cautiously following in my wake, evacuating civilians still in the area while launching spells at me. I can see the hunters on the surrounding roofs and in the air, though I¡¯m not sure what they¡¯re doing. There¡¯s a lot of movement happening but very little magic.

    It doesn¡¯t matter. I pay them no mind, falling into a rhythm as I sweep my tentacles while cutting a path from the Teppin estate to the city¡¯s western gate. The guilds are spread throughout the city. Rather than congregating in one area, they just avoid a few areas, like the richer neighborhoods near the estate and the Myriad Zone. Before, I charted a path that would ensure I cause the maximum amount of damage by cutting through the center of the city, going a little south before going straight west. I don¡¯t even notice their efforts to stop me as I make good on my promise to reduce the city to rubble.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-132 (Alyssa)

    Alyssa had underestimated her assignment.

    Severely.

    She thought, after years of Victory¡¯s campaigns and years more as a captain of the Grand Watch, policing a group of civilians would be simple. Annoying, but simple. She couldn¡¯t be more wrong.

    Everything started fine. The Hall housed the best casters and some of the brightest minds in the kingdom. When set to a task, they tackled it with incredible efficiency. It took a single night for the earth casters to make a serviceable camp out of dirt walls, wooden poles, large sheets, and what tents they could get on short notice. The alchemists donated Magic Lights, which did not live up to their grand name. They were simple glass orbs filled with a mixture of some kind that glowed in the dark. A failed potion that lost its luminance after five nights or one day if left exposed to the sun for long periods. Its only saving grace was that its materials were cheap and it was incredibly simple to make. They weren¡¯t sturdy, pretty, or very bright but it was good enough to keep the camp lit.

    The accommodations weren¡¯t fancy, or very comfortable, but they¡¯d somehow managed to stock them with all the necessities. Including rations for a couple hundred, though the bread was hard and the soup thin. There was plenty of water and several blankets though they¡¯d still need people to bring their own blankets if they wanted to keep warm. The weather was warming but they were too far north for anyone to be comfortable without sufficient covering.

    Despite the effort they poured into the camp, few residents of the city took them up on the offer of shelter. The foundation acolytes who returned from delivering dire warnings had all kinds of stories. They¡¯d been laughed at and ignored. The people of Quest feared the war but were not so scared that they were willing to abandon their homes and livelihoods. They clung to the belief that whatever the hunters had gotten themselves involved in, it wouldn¡¯t involve them. Even if war came to Quest, the general assumption was that once an army breached the walls, a surrender would quickly be negotiated. Some of the poor fools thought that Dunwayne would swoop down from the Hall and rescue them.

    Alyssa didn¡¯t care either way. Less people in the camp meant less work for her. She got their few evacuees settled, set up a schedule for patrols, and went back into the city for a drink, both for pleasure and to dig for information.

    She couldn¡¯t believe her ears when she heard that the guilds had taken Talia and Yulia hostage. Hunters weren¡¯t heroes. Most of them were greedy bastards. They risked life and limb not to protect others but for fame and fortune. That took a certain kind of personality, ranging from those who were stoic in the face of death to the violently deranged.

    However, kidnapping a duke¡¯s daughter and the next head interrogator wasn¡¯t merely deranged, it was stupid. There was no way for it to end well. She wanted to meet the idiot that thought that the Tome clan would back down when not one, but two of their own were taken.

    Alana was from Victory. Kierra was more violently deranged than any Victorian. It was obvious to anyone with a brain that antagonizing them would only lead to more violence.

    Perhaps, if one chose to ignore the obvious, they could reason that as the head of the house, Lou would decide their actions and Alyssa could understand someone believing that they could intimidate Lou. But she still thought that would require them to turn off their brains and only look at the facts that supported their theory. The noblewoman wasn¡¯t the same kind of deranged as her wife, but she was all kinds of twisted.

    Not necessarily in a bad way. The ancestors would have to rise from their graves and threaten her with a curse on her entire bloodline for Alyssa to say as much before the brat, but Lou was generous to a fault, especially to those she cared for. However, she could do terrible things for those people too. Alyssa was convinced that as long as it was motivated by love, Lou could do anything, even the unspeakable.

    And the idiotic hunters had just given her all the justification she needed to lose her shit.

    She crawled through the bars and taverns where she knew hunters frequented, buying drinks and swapping barbs. Sadly, her probing came up with nothing. Hunters fought monsters and dragged their corpses into the city to get paid. They didn¡¯t concern themselves with anything else, entrusting the guildmasters and their administrators to handle the tedious details. It was worse than soldiers. They followed orders because it was their job. Hunters followed orders because they couldn¡¯t be bothered to do more.

    The majority weren''t happy being connected to the cowardly act but, as one drunken man she added more liquid lubricant to said, it was better to fuck than be fucked. As long as they got their gold and got to go home to their families, they could care less.

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    She quickly realized that she would have to speak to someone with a lot more influence if she wanted answers. She had history with the guilds, especially One For All, but not that much. It took a lot of power, a lot of completed quests, or several generations to have the kind of connections that allowed one to call on a guildmaster or their aides when they pleased.

    Once she realized her quest was fruitless, she chucked it, choosing to follow in Dunwayne¡¯s footsteps. If the Harvest Hero wasn¡¯t willing to involve himself in the city¡¯s mess, she wouldn¡¯t bend over backward to save them from themselves. She decided to spend her free night enjoying herself, though it was difficult given her piss poor options for drink and the worries that stubbornly clung to her conscience.

    Eventually, she realized she couldn¡¯t drink her dread away and returned to the camp with a pleasant buzz, her mood improving again when she found the sentries watching the entrance only goofing off instead outright sleeping. Given they were a bunch of students volunteering their time rather than trained soldiers, that was the best she could hope for.

    She was much less pleased to find Lane standing outside of her tent. He was clean and bandaged, blowing into his hands as he looked up. He flashed her a sheepish smile as their eyes met. ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± she asked, waving him aside to crawl into her own tent. She didn¡¯t care that he crouched in its opening, though she noticed the young man¡¯s blush.

    ¡°Figured you could use an extra pair of hands.¡±

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t hurt. You mind being on the night watch?¡± Lane had been in the Grand Watch for years. He had more than enough experience to lead others and, based off his recent forwardness, perhaps the guts too. It¡¯d be a waste to have him shadowing her.

    A decision that he seemed disappointed by. But he proved her reasoning when he said, ¡°you got it, boss.¡±

    ¡°Thought you weren¡¯t calling me that anymore?¡±

    ¡°Only when it¡¯s appropriate,¡± he returned with a grin.

    ¡°You¡¯re getting bold.¡±

    ¡°Eh. I figure since I¡¯ve already been rejected in one of the most humiliating ways possible and you¡¯re still alright with me hanging around, there¡¯s little to be afraid of.¡±

    She winced but it was an attitude she could get behind. They chatted for a while until her buzz went from pleasantly loopy to drowsy and she shooed him out of the tent.

    The morning of the second day, the camp got a lot busier. Alyssa woke with a mild headache, made worse by the general hubbub around her. They had a lot more visitors and, to make things more complicated, many of them were sick. They hadn¡¯t left the city to avoid the fight, but to distance themselves from family and loved ones.

    It was bothersome. She hadn¡¯t been drafted to play nurse in a field hospital. But the Hall had promised to welcome them so welcomed they were. Alyssa sent word to the Hall for healers and supplies, including herbs. Natural remedies weren¡¯t well-known or very popular in most of the kingdom, but the Hall was the center of humanity¡¯s knowledge and progress. It¡¯d be strange if they didn¡¯t have a few experts in the field with expansive gardens for their research.

    On the third day, everything went to hell.

    People poured into a camp. Alyssa didn¡¯t have time to interview anyone extensively but from what she picked up, it was a combination of people¡¯s nerves collapsing the day before the main event and the sickness spreading. It was just short of overwhelming. By the end of the day, Alyssa¡¯s throat was sore from all the yelling she did to get people organized. Or that¡¯s what she assumed before her first cough.

    The next day, she felt terrible. The tea one of the ragged healers practically poured down her throat soothed it but did nothing for her nausea. She wanted nothing more than to lay back down but she didn¡¯t have that luxury.

    It started with a loud crash. She knew it was loud despite only hearing it faintly, because it came from the city. Anything she could hear outside the walls was big and probably nasty. Worse, the sound kept repeating. Then she heard the explosions.

    Alyssa fought her feverish headache and barked orders, knowing what was coming. And as she expected, the largest wave of people yet flooded into the camp. They were a panicked mess, but the Grand Watch was ready, calming them down and getting them sorted. It was controlled chaos. Luckily, they managed to keep people from damaging themselves or the camp.

    When she had a moment to breathe, she asked a fleeing hunter, practically bent over coughing, what was happening. She needed a picture of how bad the damage was as she had no doubt the Hall would be tapped to help with the rebuilding efforts.

    She was not prepared for the man to simply cry.

    The next person she asked only answered with one word: purple.

    It took a dozen people before she got a coherent answer from an old woman who had somehow found a sturdy looking chair to sit on at the edge of the camp, coughing up thick mucus one moment before taking a swig of hard liquor the next. ¡°Some giant purple beast is knocking down buildings and smashing anyone dumb enough to get close to it. Didn¡¯t see much before my grandson got us out of the city but the hunters didn¡¯t seem to be doing much to slow it down. City¡¯ll be gone by sunset, I reckon.¡±

    A whole city, gone in a day. It seemed the hunters had good reason to fear Lou. And that fear had caused them to make the worst mistake in their history.

    Alyssa felt bad for all the people caught in the destruction, but she also knew that Lou had done what she could, in her limited capacity, to minimize casualties. Or maybe she didn¡¯t. People could only be pushed so far. Could be the massive casualties were both intentional and wanted. She just thanked the saints and the ancestors that she wasn¡¯t in the middle of the mess and it wasn¡¯t her job to clean it up.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-133 (Alana)

    The James family didn¡¯t have a motto. Some families added words to their crests, declaring their way of life. In the north, everyone lived by the same values, so such an explanation was unnecessary. If anyone wanted to know what kind of family the rulers of Victory were, they had centuries of deeds and reputation behind them.

    While she waited, crouched in an alley down the road from where Talia was being held, Alana pondered what such a motto would be. It was a silly, pointless train of thought and that was exactly what she needed to hold back her nerves. There were a hundred ways today could go wrong but worrying about it wouldn¡¯t do anything but hinder her. The worries, regret, and, if necessary, the mourning could wait until after the job was done.

    [The best mottos are short and direct. Three words minimum, six maximum.]

    It was a little unsettling having another voice in her head, but Alana put that worry out of her mind as well. After all, she needed the succubus. Geneva was crouched on the roof above her, watching and reading nearby thoughts. Alana waited for her signal to move in and until then, she amused herself.

    Tall as Titans.

    [The alliteration rolls off the tongue but not quite accurate.]

    Alana huffed. She didn¡¯t mean it literally, but she saw the problem. She was the shortest in her little family, excluding the siblings and she had a sinking feeling that both would outgrow her, simply because Geneva would want them to have powerful physiques so they could be better servants.

    Blood For Blood.

    [Far too vengeful.]

    This time, the blonde chuckled. If fighting a losing war for centuries didn¡¯t classify someone as vengeful, she didn¡¯t know what did. Beyond the campaigns, Victory had several bloodthirsty traditions. One of them was the source of all their problems and why Alana was crouched in the shadows, preparing to commit extreme violence.

    [Stupid and stubborn, yes. Blunt, without question. Not bloodthirsty. Your war is a duty, not a party.]

    If you have such strong opinions, why don¡¯t you make a suggestion?

    [Will of Steel, Heart of Ice.]

    Before Alana could comment on it, a large sound interrupted her thoughts. It was unlike anything she¡¯d ever heard. The closest thing she could compare it to was when the first titan she fought had collapsed. The impact was softened by thick snow, but she¡¯d still felt it under her feet and could imagine how loud it¡¯d have been if the mountain wasn¡¯t blanketed.

    What she heard was that sound multiplied several times. The impact didn¡¯t send a tremor though the ground, it made it shake. Before it settled, there was another great crash. Then another. The crashing, shattering, and shuddering surrounded her, nearly overwhelming.

    People ran out of their homes, yelling questions and curses at the sky and each other. When they didn¡¯t receive any answers and the destruction continued, the panic started. Alana watched with cold eyes as they scattered like bugs exposed to light. She felt for them, but endless mercy was not justice. Nor was it feasible.

    Alana admired heroes and heroic tales, but she was under no illusion that she was one. That was why she objected to Lou calling her a saint. She didn¡¯t think of herself as a good person, nor did she want to be one. Titans didn¡¯t care how good of a person you were. They didn¡¯t care how many innocents you spared or how many commoners sang your praises.

    Mercy was like her sister. Nice to look at but ultimately useless. Rather than a merciful heart, Alana preferred a fair one. Charity to those who deserved a second chance and a harsh end to those who didn¡¯t. People liked merciful rulers. People respected a fair one.

    The civilians of the city hadn¡¯t asked to be involved in their conflict. The fair thing was to give them the chance to step away, which is why Alana insisted on it. Anything beyond that wasn¡¯t their responsibility. It was not the duty of the strong to protect the weak, but to provide the weak opportunities to become strong. The city¡¯s fate had always been in its own hands. Now, they reaped what they sowed.

    [Ah~ My summoner is truly magnificent.]

    Alana ignored the tone though she agreed with the sentiment. She didn¡¯t need to see the havoc Lou was raising. She was surrounded by it. The power to level a city wasn¡¯t scarce but it was rarely put on display.

    Besides the horrific body count and the long-standing tradition of the kingdom to avoid large battles, a spell able to raze a large area could be blocked by a defensive spell of similar strength. Strategically, there was nothing a large spell could do that an army couldn¡¯t with enough time. It was better for a master caster to focus their skill taking out high-profile targets than causing pointless, wide-spread destruction.

    That didn¡¯t apply to Lou. She wasn¡¯t a master caster, she was a force of nature. She didn¡¯t have to worry about preserving mana and there was no spell to counter her. Worse, she had a monstrous amount of stamina. Alana was sure her lover could raze five cities without getting tired and, to her knowledge, there was nothing anyone in the kingdom could do to stop her.

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    Feeling the ground trembling beneath her, Alana remembered her vow to fight Lou¡¯s fights for her in the future and felt a touch ridiculous. Overwhelmed. Even a little fearful¡­but not daunted. It might take a lot longer than she thought but, with Kierra and Lou, she had all the time in the world. She was a northerner that had grown up dreaming of fighting titans.

    A future fighting much bigger things, on every scale? She¡¯d never turn that down, even without all the other benefits.

    [It¡¯s time.]

    Alana rose from her crouch and stretched, flinging aside the cloak she was wearing. What are their positions?

    [There is one hunter on the door. The second sentry is inside the building. I assume he is reporting to his superior about what¡¯s happening out here. There are a dozen hunters outside of the building. Their paths will lead them to intersect with the panicked sentry. There is no one near Talia¡¯s room.]

    I¡¯ll be the distraction. You focus on reaching Talia, then we¡¯ll pincer them.

    [Oh? We won¡¯t be retreating?]

    If it were any other time, she would have. But this was war. Besides that, there was a good chance that her actions would mean the death of Yulia. With that thought lodged in her mind, there was no way she could bring herself to spare anyone inside the building. Anyone that gets in our way, dies.

    [You are in charge.]

    Their conversation took place in a moment. In the next, Alana sprinted out of the alley. She dodged the people running past her, a being of purpose charging through a sea of confusion. Her target, a young man standing in front of an inconspicuous building whose door had unusually thick hinges, didn¡¯t notice her despite her heavy footfalls. He was too busy staring at something with his neck craned, jaw-dropped, and eyes wide with fear.

    It was only when she drew her blade that he looked over but by then, it was too late. Her training with Kierra was twofold. The first part was improving her reflexes and battle instinct with sparring, breaking her away from the rigid training of the northern orders. The second part was strengthening her body through magic. She was never weak, but after months of dedicated attention from the elf, she was getting closer to the kind of supernatural strength physical casters were known for.

    Her blade nearly bisected the man, ignoring the tough leathers he wore. She¡¯d removed her blade and kicked down the front door before he hit the ground. As she crossed the threshold, knowledge of the building entered her mind, as well as the position of the hunters. Several halls and small, redundant rooms made it labyrinthine but she ran without doubt. Two rights, a left, crossing a room, and taking another right led her to a set of stairs. Someone was coming down as she reached the base.

    To his credit, he reacted as quickly as she did. He pulled a short sword from his back and brought it up to block her sword, the narrow stairwell having no room to dodge. Her blow swept him off his feet, sending him through the thick wooden railing. She doubted her blow had killed  him but knew he wouldn¡¯t be getting up anytime soon, so she continued her charge up the stairs.

    She dropped the moment she cleared the top step, feeling the heat of her attacker¡¯s spell as fire roared over her head. Her chest twinged with a slight pain as she pulled on her mana. Alana lowered her head and charged as a bright light flooded the hall. Heat and cold washed over her as the defenders launched their spells blind, but with her armor on, they only managed to make her uncomfortable.

    When she was close enough to hear them cursing her, she dropped her spell. Small dark spots danced in her vision, reminding her again that she needed to speak with Rolly about a way to make herself immune to the effects of her spells, but her opponents were much worse off. One shielded his eyes with an arm while the other squinted at her. She swung at the squinter but just before her blade would have made contact with his neck, the wall next to her exploded as a towering shape came barreling through.

    If it was even a month before, she would have been taken off-guard and likely suffered wounds from the surprise attack. But Kierra¡¯s training was harsh. One of the elf¡¯s favorite ways to engage her was by tackling her out of nowhere. After falling for the tactic so many times, Alana had developed a sense for an impending ambush.

    It wasn¡¯t perfect and was always too late to save her from Kierra¡¯s pouncing, but her immediate reaction was enough to counter her third opponent. She spun, changing targets to the man that came through the wall, casting a spell as her sword came down. The edge of her weapon flared brightly, the heat it gave off distorting the air around it.

    The weapon went through the man¡¯s breastplate as if it didn¡¯t exist, but it didn¡¯t stop his momentum. His charge lost a lot of power as she cut him down, but he still barreled into her, knocking her down. Alana immediately jumped to her feet, but a moment was all her opponents needed.

    The two hunters she initially engaged had recovered. A large ball of water slammed into her, threatening to knock her off her feet, but she didn¡¯t think much of it. Not until the water began to rapidly freeze, hindering her movements. With a grunt of effort, she broke through the restraints, bracing herself for whatever follow-up was headed her way¡­only to find the hunters had retreated. She could hear their footsteps as they retreated. From a guess, toward Talia¡¯s room.

    Gritting her teeth, she chased after them, catching sight of one as they turned the corner. When she did the same, she saw the same hunter flying out of a room, crashing against a wall and slumping next to his partner.

    Geneva walked from the room and a moment later, Talia followed. Alana slid to a stop next to them, eyes flicking over the older woman. She looked tired and a little haggard, more noticeable given her usual impeccable appearance, but unharmed. Alana was glad, incredibly, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to relax.

    ¡°Can you fight?¡± she asked.

    Many women would have felt slighted by the lack of concern. They would have been overwhelmed by their circumstances, even their liberation. Talia proved her resilience by simply replying, ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Enemies?¡±

    ¡°There are no more hunters in the building. Lou¡¯s attack is proving more of a distraction than we could have hoped. It would seem that all of the guilds¡¯ forces are being mustered to stop her.¡±

    ¡°Should we not help her?¡± the flower asked, true concern in her voice.

    ¡°Lou will be fine,¡± Alana said. And Talia nodded, accepting her judgment. As a flower should. Alana thought Kierra¡¯s insistence on roles was strange and sometimes ridiculous, but the longer she humored her strange ways, the more she saw the appeal of them. If was¡­invigorating, holding power over someone else¡¯s fate. It made her feel strong, but she pushed the feeling down. Now wasn¡¯t the time to admire the exciting dynamics of her chosen clan. ¡°The only thing that can hurt her is losing family. Which is why we need to find my sister.¡± She gestured to the succubus. ¡°Pick her up.¡±

    Geneva shouldered Talia who endured the undignified position without complain as they sprinted out of the building, Alana leading the way as she crashed out of a second-story window, rolling as she hit the street and slipping back into a run without so much as stumbling.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-134 (Alana)

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    The quiet exclamation was filled with more emotion than Alana had ever heard Talia use in a whole sentence, let alone a single syllable. Alana understood the sentiment. If she weren¡¯t completely focused on the mission, on saving her sister¡¯s life, then she might also pause to admire the sheer scale of destruction her lover was unleashing. All she could do was engrave the image of a looming hill of twilight decimating centuries of efforts in a matter of minutes in her memory to think on later. Whether she¡¯d be impressed or horrified remained to be seen.

    While Lou¡¯s rampage seemed random, it had been planned extensively. Her route took her close to the places where Talia and Yulia were being kept, the goal to cause maximum disruption before Alana attempted a rescue. That meant they traveled in Lou¡¯s wake as they moved toward Yulia¡¯s location.

    Alana was prepared to face resistance, but she overestimated the hunters¡¯ mettle. She expected the men and women with the gumption to challenge the north to, at the very, rival Victory¡¯s spirit, but they didn¡¯t have the heart to face inevitable death. There was still an organized resistance attempting to slow Lou, flinging ineffectual spells and hacking at her lower half, but most of the people on the street, hunters and civilians alike, were running for their lives. Or, as close as they could come to running.

    With the majority coughing up their lungs, the sickness made worse by the dust and debris in the air, the best they could manage was a quick shuffle. Worse if they were weighed down by heavy armor or worldly possessions.

    It was a pitiful sight. Disdainful. She hated watching them, knowing each one would weigh on Lou¡¯s conscience. She wasn¡¯t entirely without compassion for them, knowing intimately how frustrating it was to be weak and believe you would always be weak, but she had no respect for their privilege.

    It was an undignified existence but the weak existed on the whims of the strong. When she labored through servant work as a girl, she accepted that simple fact as life. Those who could not fight, served. Those who didn¡¯t fight well followed orders. It was the natural order of things.

    The weak got out of the way. Otherwise, they got trampled by titans. That¡¯s what the hunters should have done. They should have gotten out of the way. But because they hadn¡¯t, because they thought they were the saints¡¯ gift to the world and nothing could touch them, they hadn¡¯t. That meant she¡¯d have to comfort her titan later, as the other members of her clan weren¡¯t up to the task. It didn¡¯t sit right with her, Lou doing everything she could for everyone else and still ending up hurt. Something else she pushed down to be dealt with at a better time.

    There was one thing she did know. Things were going to change. If Lou didn¡¯t have the heart to handle these kinds of situations, that was fine. Alana loved her generous and slightly naive heart. It was just another battle she¡¯d fight for her. But never again did she want to be in a situation where they had to choose which loved ones to save.

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    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Alana asked as they ducked into an alley and easily scaled the wall.

    ¡°Yulia isn¡¯t in the building where she was being held.¡±

    ¡°Speed up.¡±

    They had been traveling at a casual pace, as it was a poor strategy to arrive tired to a conflict, but at her order, they sprinted. She panted with effort as the buildings, becoming more rubble by the moment, blurred past. She ran like lives depended on it because they did. Her ignorant, annoying, caught-up-in-her-own-world, sister who she still loved no matter how much she hated her.

    ¡°She¡¯s not alone.¡±

    Whoever was with her would die.

    ¡°There are three moving with her, but they do not seem to be captors or enemies. They¡¯re more afraid than she is.¡±

    That eased Alana¡¯s worries somewhat, but she didn¡¯t slow her pace. She noted that they were moving away from Lou, heading north toward the Myriad Zone. Lou had plotted her route to avoid it, not wanting to antagonize the Hall that had a significant presence in the strange corner of the city. Whoever was plotting their escape route was using their head. She doubted Yulia would have such clarity of thought in an emergency. It spoke well of her chosen allies.

    ¡°The next street over.¡±

    They rounded a corner and saw a group of four further down the road. Alana couldn¡¯t make out anything about them as they were covered by cloaks, but Geneva wouldn¡¯t make a mistake about something like this. ¡°Yulia!¡±

    At her shout, one of the figures stopped. A second tried to grab their arm but the first pulled away, dropping their hood. Relief mixed with elation surged in Alana¡¯s chest as she saw her sister¡¯s face, healthy aside from a few dark circles and full of surprise. The others noticed her reaction and stopped but Alana could tell they were tense as she came to a stop in front of them.

    ¡°Allie!¡± Alana didn¡¯t resist as Yulia threw her arms around her neck, feeling the way her sister relaxed into the embrace. ¡°You¡ª"

    ¡°We were coming to get you.¡±

    ¡°Beat you to my own rescue then, huh?¡± She pulled back and smiled but the expression dimmed when she looked over Alana¡¯s shoulder and spotted Talia. The conclusion was obvious. A worm of guilt tried to burrow into Alana¡¯s heart, but she stomped it viciously. One of them had to be saved first. She had her reasons and it all worked out for the best. She wouldn¡¯t blame Yulia for her feelings, whatever they were, but feeling guilty was a waste of time. She didn¡¯t deserve it.

    ¡°Come on. We need to get moving.¡±

    ¡°Where?¡± one of the cloaked strangers asked.

    They flinched when Alana frowned at them. ¡°Who said you¡¯re invited?¡±

    ¡°Wait! They helped me in return for me helping them.¡±

    The two sisters stared at each other until Alana relented. A promise was important. Beyond that, she could practically smell the fear coming off them. If there was something wrong, Geneva and Talia would have spoken. Their silence meant the three presumed hunters weren¡¯t threats. ¡°Fine. Then we¡¯re going the same way you were. North. The Myriad Zone will be safe.¡±

    ¡°Why not go straight to the Hall?¡± one of the hunters asked while another exclaimed, ¡°I¡¯ve got to find my family!¡±

    ¡°The Hall has a camp outside the city. Anybody with any sense or luck is there. Your best bet is to go out of the western gate and circle around, that¡¯s if the guard hasn¡¯t closed it down. Don¡¯t go through the city. As for why we¡¯re not going to the Hall, it¡¯s because they¡¯re not our allies and they don¡¯t want anything to do with this mess. We go to the Zone, find a bar, and sit tight until we get the all clear.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª"

    ¡°And if you don¡¯t like the plan, you can make your own,¡± she snapped. Alana grabbed Yulia by the arm and marched her forward, tugging her until her sister got the message and started to move on her own. Geneva and Talia were right behind them and soon the hunters followed suit.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-135 (Lucas)

    Lucas didn¡¯t know how things had gone so bad.

    ¡°Blessed asses shitting on us.¡± The fact that Jacoby, the guildmaster of One For All, had lost his famously cool temperament was a bad sign. However, he couldn¡¯t blame the man. They were perched on the same rooftop, watching the same incredulous sights, and Lucas was far from composed. The only reason he was able to fight the primal fear screaming at him to flee as fast as his legs could carry him was the logical voice of self-preservation that had learned to scream over his instincts through several dangerous hunts.

    The truth was, despite the rampant destruction he bore witness to, he and everyone else perched on the rooftop were safe, or as safe as they could be given the situation.

    The purple monstrosity was moving away from them, which was all they could hope for. The guilds had thrown everything they had at the monster that appeared out of nowhere. A saying that was usually used in jest but was depressingly literal in the current case. Every element, every weapon, every potion, anything the hunters could think of to possibly hurt the thing had been hurled at it with extreme prejudice. All of it amounted to nothing. From what he and the other overseers of the operation could tell, their efforts hadn¡¯t even scratched it.

    ¡°Just got a message from the Steelskins,¡± a hunter Lucas didn¡¯t recognize said, eyes dimming as his spell finished. ¡°Bearskin says that unless we got a plan, he¡¯s pulling his people back.¡±

    ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t got a plan. Any of you fuckers feel free to speak¡ª" His words were interrupted by a heavy coughing fit. Lucas started to reach out to him, but Jacoby waved him off. ¡°Fuck! Bad enough we got this Abyss-spawned abomination. We really didn¡¯t need a damn bug on top of it.¡±

    The sickness had come from seemingly nowhere and swept across the city overnight. The symptoms weren¡¯t fatal, thank the saints for that, but it didn¡¯t take much to put a hunter off their game. It was a bad idea to go into a fight with a headache, let alone puking up their guts. He doubted it would have made much of a difference in this fight but having half their numbers weakened and the other half unable to fight at all was an enormous disadvantage.

    It was a testament to the strength of whatever was going around that it¡¯d managed to infect Jacoby. The man was getting on in the years, his stooped posture and thinning gray hair reflecting every decade, but he was a legend. He was one of the figures that inspired new generations of hunters. A native of Quest and possessing a basic wind affinity, he wasn¡¯t born with many opportunities. He¡¯d changed his circumstances through hard work and persistence.

    Most people only remembered Dunwayne when they thought of the dragon, or more accurately the draconid as anyone who cared enough to research it would know it wasn¡¯t a true dragon that attacked Harvest back then, but several notable warriors and casters had also participated in its subjugation.

    Communication magic had always been a staple of the army, but Jacoby had popularized it throughout the kingdom when he used it to coordinate the assault on the creature. From there, he¡¯d gone on to lead several more raids before retiring from the front lines and providing more worth to the guilds as one of its leaders.

    One of the reasons Lucas accepted becoming interim guildmaster for the Torchbearers, despite the obvious complications and political fights he saw in his future, was to have access to the man. His ornery personality aside, it wasn¡¯t easy to get an audience with such a man. Lucas had hoped to wrangle an apprenticeship. While he was well on his way to becoming a master coefficient wise, he lacked a signature spell, that unique bit of magic that all the legends had. It took a special kind of caster to create new, innovative spells. Easier to carry on an already established legacy.

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    ¡°What are we getting from the lorekeepers? Does anyone know what this thing is?¡± Jacoby snapped.

    All the communication specialists that were coordinating the guilds¡¯ efforts shook their heads, but Lucas elaborated. ¡°There¡¯s been no update. I suggest we try the summoners of the Hall.¡± Lucas was confident that the guilds had the most extensive collection of knowledge regarding manabeasts in the kingdom, better even than the Hall¡¯s. If their experts couldn¡¯t identify it, the obvious conclusion was that it was a product of summoning.

    ¡°Old Dunn made it clear that he doesn¡¯t want to touch this war with a pinky let alone dip his hand in. What about that boy? Didn¡¯t we recruit our own summoner?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s been no sign of him since the attack on the meeting.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Spineless little shitstain. Ah, forget it. Forget it! We¡¯re bashing our heads against a boulder here. Send a message out for everyone to retreat. Out of the city, dammit it all.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we use the hostages?¡± Lucas asked as his fellows went about the task, eyes glowing with mana as they spread Jacoby¡¯s order.

    The old man laughed. ¡°Look around you, boy! The whole point of taking hostages was to stop her from fighting. In case you can¡¯t tell, we cocked that up. Somebody got that little girlie all wrong. The only thing those hostages are good for is stopping this rampage. Then, maybe if we all paint our lips and lovingly kiss her ass, she won¡¯t send that thing to track us down. Saints, what a cock up. What a gloriously shitty shitstorm.¡±

    Lucas wasn¡¯t enthused that someone he considered an idol was suggesting surrender, especially given how much the guilds, and the city, had already suffered, but he couldn¡¯t fault the man. Master casters were powerful but not all powerful. Jacoby couldn¡¯t wave away unfortunate circumstances.

    As he watched another building topple, Lucas was forced to admit the guildmaster had a point, so he went about his work. His eyes glowed as he spoke, his spell sending the message to relay points throughout the city. From up high, he could see the retreat, the assault lagging in intensity as small pockets of hunters backed off. But a complication arose quickly. While the monstrosity didn¡¯t seem to care about the hunters that must look like insects before it, another refused to let them leave easily. As they ran, many of them dropped, seemingly for no reason. ¡°Sir¡ª"

    ¡°I see it,¡± Jacoby grumbled. The old man¡¯s eyes glowed. ¡°They¡¯re screaming their heads off about arrows. Must be the elf. How are the teams on retrieving those hostages?¡±

    ¡°Sir! Umphrieltalia can¡¯t be found.¡±

    ¡°Same here, sir. Yulia James can¡¯t be found.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re properly fucked.¡± Jacoby sighed. ¡°Time to pack it in boys. Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t going to do anything about the elf?¡± Lucas asked.

    He had to fight not to flinch at the glare the old man shot him. ¡°What exactly do you think we¡¯re going to do? If you want to dive into the middle of that chaos to hunt down a woman who is capable of dancing around that rampaging abomination and still shooting with enough accuracy to pierce a man¡¯s heart, be my guest.¡±

    Lucas winced.

    ¡°Besides, hurting the elf isn¡¯t the answer. The last thing we want to do is give that girly any more reasons to be pissed at us. No. We¡¯re going to do what we should have done in the first place. Get the hell out of the way and give the lady what she wants.¡± His shoulders sagged, making him look even older. ¡°Damn stupid kids. A fucking lifetime of work, lost in a couple of days.¡±

    Lucas frowned as indignation surged within him. It sounded like the old guildmaster was shifting the blame, but he could have interceded at any time. Major decisions that affected the city at large were decided by majority vote, but old heroes like Jacoby had more sway than most. He could have led them down a different path¡­but he hadn¡¯t. Because their plan was reasonable. Who could have foreseen things ending up like this? It was cowardly to shuck responsibility now that things had gone awry.

    Though, the longer Lucas thought about it, the more his frustration waned. Losing the city was hard for him but for someone like Jacoby, who had shed blood, sweat, and tears to build it, he couldn¡¯t imagine what the man was feeling.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-136 (Kierra)

    To be special was a lonely thing.

    As a young girl, Kierra didn¡¯t realize how different she was. She ran, jumped, and hunted small critters with careless joy. Being a little faster and a little stronger than the other children didn¡¯t enter her mind. The adults hardly cared at that age either.

    But as she grew older, the gap between her abilities and those of her peers widened. Her senses could rival the hounds some of the hunters raised, something she discovered when she jokingly joined in on their training. She could hear conversations in other rooms, until her mother soundproofed the tree after Kierra barged in on an intimate moment, thinking her mother had been ambushed by a predator. She could play all day long and sometimes through the night.

    The moment she learned of her pure affinity was filled with wonder. Some villages used spells like the one her Lou showed her in the human capital, using affinity stones to divine the nature of a being¡¯s mana. Kierra¡¯s village used a different method. They used a spell that expelled one¡¯s mana into the air and an observer judged their affinities through its color.

    Normally, the technique didn¡¯t have an effect, the mana useless without the direction of a spell. Pure affinities were different. The mana was tied to the caster¡¯s will, meaning it always had direction.

    The green energy stimulated the field she stood on, the short grass doubling in length and wrapping around her ankles. She vividly remembered the way the coarse blades tickled as they brushed against her skin, but what she remembered most about that day was her mother.

    Morgene Atainna was not a kind woman. Or a soft one. Before Kierra understood concepts like power or prestige, she knew her mother was special. People treated her differently. They moved out of the way when she walked, they spoke to her carefully, and no one, not even the queen, her older sister, questioned her.

    Her mother didn¡¯t give praise easily. She was never impressed with Kierra¡¯s small accomplishments. Her daughter being better than other children was natural, expected. Kierra showed potential but that meant nothing to a legend whose name was known in every corner of every province. It would take much more than snuffling the ground alongside pups to impress the leader of Dusk¡¯s martial forces.

    She was also a perfect example of the elven philosophy of pursuing strength through conflict. If Kierra bragged about doing better than the other children, Morgene arranged for her compete against those older than her. Bringing back a hunting trophy resulted in her being thrown outside with instructions to return with the skull of something stronger and fiercer. It seemed as though nothing would ever budge the woman¡¯s stone-faced disapproval.

    Kierra thought she¡¯d never see it lest she climbed to the highest branch of the Great Tree and fought off an entire army of elder wyverns. But it didn¡¯t. That day, when her mother witnessed her magic, her expression changed. She smiled, which was rare enough, but there was nothing else. Something in her eyes. It took Kierra several hours of looking back on the moment to realize it was pride.

    Her mother was proud of her.

    That was enough for her to realize how special she was but not the true scope of what she could do. It took decades of growth, both as a fighter and a person, to understand the true ramifications of her affinity. What it meant to the living embodiment of the physical affinity, the power contained within all living things; evolution.

    It meant being the pinnacle of nature, endless growth combined with a vitality so strong it could overcome the effects of time. Every day, her magic responded to her desire to become strong, to grow. It seeped into her bones, transforming her. A slow but constant effect that matched her natural regeneration, as she subconsciously didn¡¯t want to leave herself vulnerable. It would never stop and, as she grew her mana core, it would happen faster.

    For the first century of her life, that meant she would have an edge. In a few centuries? She¡¯d be overwhelmingly powerful. In a few millenia, if her mind didn¡¯t collapse under the weight of so many years?

    She¡¯d be an existence beyond understanding.

    The first time Kierra understood the path she walked was ten years after she learned of her affinity. Her childhood friends, or rather competitors as their relationships were mostly based off their mutual training, refused to spar with her.

    It wasn¡¯t meant to be hurtful. There was nothing to learn from an opponent they couldn¡¯t so much as touch. She didn¡¯t wallow in the moment, as her mother immediately had her training under the village¡¯s stronger fighters, but during a quiet night, Kierra realized it was only a matter of time until she outgrew them. Only a matter of time before she outgrew them all and her only equals were dragons.

    The more of that truth she understood, the bleaker the future looked. Yet, she couldn¡¯t stop fighting, couldn¡¯t stop growing. Her affinity was a reflection of who she was. She hunted, she challenged, and she evolved. Knowing her journey would end in a lonely peak made her more reckless, more flippant with certain matters, and more impulsive in others, but nothing short of death could stop her.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    She would be the best, whatever the cost.

    In her prison, Kierra truly embraced her lonely fate. It was a prelude of her future. She felt herself fading, losing touch with anything beyond her cage. She didn¡¯t want to care, as she¡¯d outgrow it all anyway. But before she could give up, the Great Spirit smiled on her. Fate gave her Lou.

    A partner that could walk the road she thought she¡¯d was meant to travel alone. An eternal challenge in the form of a peak she¡¯d never reach. A lover that shared her passions. The confused creature she stumbled on that fateful day in the Enchanted Forest was everything she¡¯d ever wanted. Everything she¡¯d ever need.

    Quicker than she could have ever anticipated, Lou became her equal. One day, she¡¯d be Kierra¡¯s goal. For now, she was the elf¡¯s treasure. Her precious project to be nurtured until she embraced her potential. So was her clan, the people that would help her support and care for Lou.

    Kierra wasn¡¯t a wrathful person. Following the model of her mother and constantly being around more experienced fighters matured her beyond her years. She also had the unique perspective of an immortal, even as a young one. Few grudges were worth the bother when she would watch the person turn to dust.

    She was, however, a possessive person. Over the course of her life, people came and went with startling frequency, but her possessions lasted. They stayed with her so long as she cared for them. One thing guaranteed to earn her ire was someone damaging what was hers.

    Her clan was both her possessions and the companions she never thought she¡¯d have. She didn¡¯t have words to express how much they meant to her. And the guild had laid hands on them. They had taken her flower and they¡¯d hurt her treasure. Because of them, Lou would be changed and Kierra couldn¡¯t say if it was for the better. Even if it was, it wasn¡¯t their place to do so. Worst of all, they¡¯d done it for ridiculous reasons, the ephemeral concepts of self-determination and wealth.

    It was a given that Kierra was angry. Angrier than when she realized the true scope of her mother¡¯s punishment. Angrier than she¡¯d ever been in her life.

    She didn¡¯t enjoy killing. She did enjoy the hunt and she made good use of her prey, but she didn¡¯t kill pointlessly. Kierra felt joy in the moment of the hunt but there was nothing but grim certainty in her heart as she stalked the streets of Quest.

    This was not a fight to improve herself or obtain resources. Kierra came to the city to reap lives.

    She didn¡¯t have to take much care to go unnoticed, as the defenders of the city were beyond preoccupied. Her Lou was also angry, angry enough to forsake her secrets. She was destruction incarnate. Now weapon could harm her. Magic flowed over her glossy surface like water off a blade. Her assault was ceaseless and indiscriminate, overwhelming power that shattered the supposedly stout will of the hunters like a rock thrown against glass.

    Kierra was a green blur as she ran and leaped through the chaos. Unlike her lover, she didn¡¯t have endless stamina. She could decimate the weak members she spotted darting through the falling debris but that would be a waste of her limited mana. Her targets were those with the skill or competence to escape the onslaught.

    It wasn¡¯t about challenging her abilities. The master casters of Harvest were lacking on their best days. Frightened, confused, and ravaged by sickness, they didn¡¯t make for a proper hunt. She might have faced the tiniest amount of resistance if she targeted the physical casters, with their strong bodies and faster reflexes, but they were irrelevant. The kingdom valued its casters far more than its martial fighters and she was there to make them hurt.

    Kierra stalked the ones throwing around the flashiest magic, drew her bow, notched an arrow, and waited. Waited until they stooped over to catch their breaths, until their clutched their chests while enduring the pain of mana strain, until they were busy shouting orders, or until they were distracted forming a complex spell.

    Then she would channeled her magic and pulled back the string of her bow till the slightest bit of more pressure would make it snap. Then she fired. One arrow for each target. She didn¡¯t have the time to collect them with her prey rapidly fleeing her hunting grounds, so she left before their corpses hit the ground. Disappearing like an apparition.

    She left the estate with thirty-eight arrows in her quiver. With a second limiting factor, she had to be even more selective. Painstakingly so. She was the invisible hand that snatched away the hunters¡¯ best and brightest before disappearing. In her wake she left panic, the guilds crumbling faster as she took out their pillars.

    She was skilled but it was impossible for her to go unnoticed forever. As she stalked her fourteenth target, special instincts honed by years of getting smacked about by her mother in a poor imitation of sparring nudged her. She threw herself to the side and rolled to her feet, looking back to see long, thin metal spikes embedded into the ground where she¡¯d been crouched¡­but no enemy.

    Her instincts nudged her again and she sidestepped, ducked, and leaped away, dodging more of the spikes. She couldn¡¯t pinpoint the source of the magic but the projectiles were laughably slow, at least for her. She scoffed as she grabbed the next spike out of the air.

    ¡°Come out, little mouse,¡± she taunted, waving the rod in the air. ¡°I am losing interest in this game.¡±

    The taunting was a pointless gesture to disguise her true intentions. Her eyes glowed as she boosted her senses with magic, searching for her opponent. But to her surprise, her taunting had an effect.

    The space in front her rippled and a man appeared in front of her. He was small in stature, two heads shorter than her with a wiry frame, and was dressed all in black, face hidden by a dark mask. Bright blue eyes stared out from underneath the many layers and Kierra was surprised not to see fear in them. She was less surprised to find she recognized his scent.

    ¡°I remember you. The prey that got away the night I killed the firebug. I did not take you for a brave man after the way you ran.¡±

    ¡°¡­you spared me,¡± he spoke, voice soft and muffled. ¡°I couldn¡¯t fight you then, but I can now. You spared me. For that, I offer you the same. Go, now.¡±

    She chuckled, amused and angered in equal measure. ¡°Good. I wondered what made you fools brave enough to target an Atainna. Show me what you can do, one who does not deserve to be called a hunter.¡± She placed her bow across her back and palmed two knives. ¡°Show me, so I can break everything you are.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-137 (Kierra)

    Her opponent drew a dagger, a strange weapon with a curved blade of a black metal that seemed to swallow the light that touched it. A dark stone was embedded at the end of its hilt, one that Kierra recognized as a null affinity stone. Something that should be beyond rare and far too precious to be in the hands of a hunter, no matter his affinity or skill.

    ¡°You should have taken my offer,¡± he said as the stone began to glow. ¡°My orders aren¡¯t to kill, but to cripple and bring you out of the city. Your death won¡¯t be quick or painless.¡±

    ¡°That is not something you need to worry about. You fools are not worth the time it would take to inflict the pain you deserve. Instead, I will crush you quickly, swatting you aside like the pest you are.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re strong but strength means nothing before the vastness of space,¡± he said. Then he disappeared.

    Kierra was tense, every sense primed as she waited for the slightest sign of his attack. When it came, she was just fast enough to dodge but not entirely, blood flowing from a shallow cut on her upper arm. She barely noticed the injury. More concerning was that her opponent was nowhere to be found.

    She felt space warping and stepped backed, another small cut appearing on her thigh. But still no trace of him. Not a heartbeat nor a breath. Somehow, he was close enough to wound her but outside of her ability to detect him.

    Her mind whirred. There was something about battle, about the looming presence of death, that focused the mind. Allowed for clear thoughts and faster deduction. There was no time for circular thinking or pointless pondering. She needed information that would help, a conclusion that would bring her closer to victory.

    She arranged the facts as another cut appeared on her arm. He had to be close to wound her. Close enough that she should be able to hear his lungs expanding in his chest and his blood rushing through his veins, but she couldn¡¯t. Something that should have been impossible, but it clearly wasn¡¯t. She had to accept it and her thoughts moved on to how it could be possible.

    His null affinity and the dagger that was either enchanted with a powerful spell or was boosting his own power were the obvious sources. Nulll affinity shenanigans could explain her situation. Teleporting, what the affinity was best known for, could be accomplished in many ways. The most common was to bend the space between two points, folding it in on itself. Using that method, a single step could allow the caster to cross a league of distance rather than a step.

    The second most common method was swapping. It involved two spells. The first forged a connection between two objects. The second used that connection to swap their positions.

    But perhaps the most uncommon way was a method she knew as slipping. It was the technique favored by her mother, who taught Kierra to inspire her own magic. Though she only understood a fraction of it. It was something that had to be felt to be truly understood. Kierra knew, intellectually, that space had layers, that were both separate and connected at the same time, but she couldn¡¯t imagine what that meant, couldn¡¯t sense or touch those layers the way someone with the null affinity could.

    She also knew that in those layers, space worked differently. In some, it was easier to manipulate or could be wielded like a physical thing.

    Despite being powerful and adaptable, slipping was rarely used. Its many benefits came with an equal number of dangers. Notably, null casters that wandered through the different layers of space often found themselves lost.

    It wasn¡¯t as simple ascending or descending a layer. Her mother described it as an elaborate puzzle, one whose answer changed each time someone tried to solve it. The foolish, the reckless, and the talentless often found themselves adrift, most winding up in strange places while the truly unfortunate could drift between pockets of space for an eternity.

    To use it in combat took a level of mastery Kierra doubted the human master casters could so much as imagine, let alone achieve.

    And yet, that was what she was witnessing. The only explanation for how he could be close but far, why he could cut her without her so much as seeing his blade.

    It was possible that there was another trick, something far less impressive and extraordinary, but her mind couldn¡¯t imagine it. She had to act off her best assumption given what she¡¯d witnessed. Which presented a problem, as there was nothing she could do.

    If he was hiding out in another layer of space, he was beyond her reach. She could dodge his attacks for the moment, but each one came faster, the wound it afflicted cutting a little deeper. She didn¡¯t know how long he could remain there or what other tricks he had. That left her with one option.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Kierra sprinted away.

    It wasn¡¯t a retreat. It was a calculation. The hunter she recalled from the night she helped rescue the halfling brewer, the start to their problems with the guilds, didn¡¯t have the skill to use her mother¡¯s technique. Battle reason said that the knife had to be helping him. No matter how powerful, a tool was just that. The null affinity required finesse to be mastered, something that couldn¡¯t be compensated for with more power.

    Perhaps the hunter¡¯s knife allowed him to lurk between different layers of space. She didn¡¯t believe it also granted him the skill to move between those layers with enough precision to both track and attack a being moving at speeds that made a charging horse look slow.

    Better, it served to lower her opponent¡¯s guard. Predators always pounced on frightened prey. They never realized they were at their most vulnerable when they attacked.

    Kierra abandoned the target she¡¯d been stalking, instead running after the closest group of fleeing hunters. The last thing she needed was for her opponent to disappear and bother her at an inopportune time. So, she gave him a reason to act.

    She pounced onto her first victim¡¯s back with the speed and ferocity of a large cat, digging her blunt fingers into his throat before he finished crying out. She pulled away flesh. His companions stumbled and clumsily reached for their weapons, but she was already moving, the whole encounter only having lasted a moment.

    She charged down the street before making a sudden right, crashing through the remains of a shattered building and leaping out of an intact window. She followed her ears to a group of panicked voices. They weren¡¯t easily identifiable as hunters, lacking weapons, but it didn¡¯t matter. Kierra wasn¡¯t after revenge, she wanted horror. Anybody would do.

    Claws sprouted at the end of the fingers and she ripped them apart, painting the shattered road with red. The savagery took three breaths. Long enough for her opponent to attack. Space rippled around her, Kierra moved, and a shallow cut tore the back of her shirt. Then she was gone.

    Others noticed her killing spree. She could hear them, those who weren¡¯t overcome with fear at the surrounding destruction, moving to encircle her. They realized her intention and filled the shattered city with projectiles, spells and arrows, to keep her away from those fleeing the city. Irrelevant actions. She wove through the storm of violence, spilling blood with unerring accuracy.

    It wasn¡¯t enough to make her prey reveal himself. So, she increased the pressure on him.

    He broke when she rushed toward a mother running with a young child in her arms. Kierra wouldn¡¯t have killed them. She could be cold when necessary, but a ruthless act was poison. It corroded the minds of enemies but also the one who committed it. There was a saying amongst her people. A cold heart eventually stopped beating. If someone didn¡¯t revere life, they eventually stopped appreciating their own.

    Besides that, she didn¡¯t want a reputation as a childkiller. Kierra didn¡¯t care for opinion much but there were limits to what she could endure.

    Her prey knew nothing of this. All he knew of her were grossly distorted rumors and the corpses she left in her wake. It would take a man with a heart of stone not to intervene. Something he proved not to be.

    A heartbeat. A deep breath. A sound between a roar and a scream filled with frustration.

    Like the mental affinity, the null affinity shared the weakness of being comparatively weak in direct applications. Rather than being hampered by the mana of the target, mass was its biggest obstacle. The mana cost of a null spell grew exponentially alongside the size and density of whatever it was targeting.

    A variable that was difficult to calculate, especially in the heat of battle. It was easier and faster to make the cost variable, letting the spell take what it needed.

    That presented an opportunity, one Kierra had been waiting for.

    When she the space around her ripple, she stopped her assault and called on her magic. A pure affinity was truly astounding. She¡¯d become accustomed to its  nature but never stopped being impressed by it. With a mere thought, and a not too insignificant drain on her magic, she was suddenly so heavy, she found it difficult to move. A vulnerable position to be in but the effect was worth it.

    Her prey crumpled. Was it due to the pain of mana strain? Had his tool failed him? It didn¡¯t matter. A thought reversed the effects of her spell and she was on him, a hand closing around the back of his neck while the other ripped the black blade from his hand. Dark eyes, finally containing the fear he should have always had, looked up at her as sweat beaded on his brow. ¡°You¡ª"

    The rest of his words were cut off by a gasp as she drove the dagger through his heart. A hand weakly grabbed at her arm, but she was unmoved, holding his gaze until the light left his eyes. Then she threw away his corpse. The blade, she kept.

    A quiet sob followed by frantic shushing drew her attention to the mother and the child she held in her arms. For some unfathomable reason, the woman had crumpled, shaking as she curled around her son. Her gaze was full of fear and a silent plea.

    Kierra knelt before her and the woman flinched. The boy on the other hand, stared at her curiously despite the tears welling in the corner of his eyes. She smiled at him and the woman whimpered. ¡°You should not be here,¡± she said, dark humor coloring her tone. ¡°Perhaps next time, when a great beast roars, you will do the smart thing and run, hm?¡±

    The woman nodded frantically, though Kierra doubted she understood a word through her fear. She yelped when Kierra grabbed her chin. ¡°You will remember that we spared you. You and your child.¡±

    ¡°Y-yes! Thank you for your mercy¡­my lady.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± She rose from her crouch and walked away. Lou made her promise she would retreat if she had less than a fourth of her mana. The last fight required a bit of effort, but her core was still over halfway filled.

    She had plenty of mana but was concerned about her prey. Focusing on her senses, she could feel them moving away from the city. They had finally realized the threat.

    Her anger was far from being quenched but she¡¯d have to be quick if she wanted to catch the fleeing pests.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-138

    My rampage ends with the setting sun.

    As promised, the once magnificent city has been pulverized. Most of the damage is concentrated along my direct path, a trail of rubble that starts at the Teppin estate and stops before the western gate of the city. The rest of the destruction was caused by my large limbs. Not as severe as my rolling over buildings but enough to leave large swaths on either side of me shattered. There are some places that remain untouched, but they are few and far between.

    The hunters stopped flinging spells at me hours ago. Saints, it¡¯s been hours since I¡¯ve seen or heard anyone. The city feels like a ruin, long abandoned with an air of dread lingering in the streets. The silence has an edge to it, one that almost feel like it can cut if I linger in it too long. Which is a ridiculous thought. If today has proved anything, it¡¯s that I can¡¯t be cut.

    There¡¯s no need for me to be upset. This is me, what I¡¯ve done, what I¡¯ve destroyed, what I¡¯ve created. It can¡¯t hurt me. Keeping that thought close, I call on that special list is always present at the back of my thoughts and call on my prime form. My body ripples, the world shifts, and then I¡¯m once again a monster masquerading as a human woman.

    ¡­huh. It all seems so much bigger when I¡¯m like this. Almost overwhelming¡­almost. I did everything I could for the people of Quest. I gave them so many chances, practically drowned them in patience and sincerity. I did this, I won¡¯t deny that, couldn¡¯t even if I wanted to, but they brought us here. Gave me no other choice outside of abandoning the interests of my favorite knight and her family. I feel guilt, but I shove it aside, refusing to let it take root.

    This will not haunt me or change me. I made a promise to Alana but even if I hadn¡¯t, I¡¯ve realized the price of passivity. I don¡¯t know if Kierra¡¯s right and power attracts trouble or if I have an unlucky fate, but my dream of living a quiet life of debauchery is a fantasy. The world has made it clear that if I don¡¯t stand up for what is mine, idiots will line up to take it from me. There are two paths before me. I can fight for myself and my clan or I can fight for the world.

    The choice is obvious.

    It¡¯s obvious¡­but I still linger in the silence, letting the moment wash over me. Until I¡¯m interrupted by something running toward me. The cadence of the steps is familiar, so I continue to stare at nothing. It only takes a couple of minutes before something, or rather someone, lands beside me.

    ¡°Dedia.¡± Kierra straightens from her crouch and stretches before coming over to me. She¡¯s splattered with blood and worse but the fingers that brush my cheek are clean. Her eyes, an even mix of gold and green in fading light, flick over me. I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s looking for, but the corners of her lips turn up. ¡°Are you well?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± I notice the strange blade in her opposite hand. Never seen black metal before. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°A tool. An artifact, I presume. Do you remember the prey that escaped the night we rescued the halfling? The one you asked me to spare as they were precious to the kingdom.¡±

    What is she¡ªah. Yeah, I remember now. The null caster that I swatted aside reflexively when they appeared out of nowhere. Kierra wanted to track them down and finish them, not one to let prey escape, but null casters are rare and precious. ¡°They showed up?¡±

    ¡°He did, with a fun toy.¡± She twirls the blade, flipping it into the air before catching it by the hilt. ¡°It gave him an interesting trick but there is no replacement for mastery.¡±

    ¡°Let me see?¡± I accept the dagger from her and examine the blade. Normally, it¡¯d be hard to detect given the color of the blade and the dried blood on its surface, but my eyes have no trouble seeing the finely engraved spell on it. The affinity stone at the end of its pommel is incredibly obvious. I don¡¯t know much about enchanting, but two things are obvious; this thing is a masterwork and incredibly valuable.

    To my knowledge, Harvest doesn¡¯t have null affinity stone deposits or weapons with black metal. Maybe the guilds have the enchanters hidden away with skills far beyond their public and independent counterparts. Or maybe it¡¯s a relic from the Great War. Either way, I bet this is what they were trying to hide. The secret assets they don¡¯t want revealed by the March.

    ¡°All of this for you, huh,¡± I mutter to the blade as I turn it back and forth. ¡°You and whatever other secrets they¡¯re keeping. And in the end, it wasn¡¯t worth it.¡± I know about it now. Since they¡¯ve made me go this far, there¡¯s no way I don¡¯t turn over every shattered stone in Quest to find the rest of their treasures. ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡±

    ¡°If they were worth the honor, our walls would have many more skulls to decorate them.¡±

    That gets a surprising laugh out of me. I hand her back her dagger. ¡°We definitely struck a blow. The city is going to be rebuilding for a long time. The guilds might never recover.¡± Especially once we¡¯re through robbing them. Before, I was going to take just enough to settle the March. Now? I¡¯m going to take it all. Even the spoons they use to stir their pots.

    ¡°Our missions were successful. What of the pets?¡±

    ¡°Geneva hasn¡¯t checked in.¡± A part of me doesn¡¯t want to contact her. I¡­I really don¡¯t want any bad news. But this isn¡¯t something that I can run from. ¡°Come on.¡±

    Together, we head north, toward the Myriad Zone. That¡¯s where we agreed Alana would hide out once she finished her job. I like the Zone. It¡¯s fun and we¡¯ve had good times there. Besides that, the Hall has more control in the area and I¡¯d rather not antagonize the school too much. I still respect what they do and Dunwayne.

    As always, it¡¯s disorientating when the world is suddenly painted in strange colors. The usual noisy streets are quiet and empty, but I can feel gazes on us as we walk down one of the main streets. I wonder what they¡¯re thinking. What they see as they watch us.

    [Here, my summoner.]

    Along with the succubus¡¯ voice, a direction is projected into my mind. I grab Kierra¡¯s shoulder and guide her to change directions. A few more directions later and we¡¯re standing in front of an inn called the Sleepy Spell. The same place Earl found when searching for safety the night the estate was attacked. I figured that if it worked once, it should work twice. A silly bit of coincidence that I hoped would bring us good luck.

    And I¡¯m glad for it. It might be stupid, superstitious, and utterly irrelevant to what happened, but if it has anything to do with me opening the door and seeing Alana, Talia, and Yulia safe, I don¡¯t mind being silly for the rest of my life.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-139

    Before I take a single step, a green blur flashes past me. In less than a blink, Kierra has Talia in her arms, holding her tightly but gently. Watching Kierra gently stroke her hair and Talia melt against her, all the horrible feelings that have been weighing on my shoulders disappear. When Alana steps over and grabs my hand, I feel good for the first time since our flower was taken.

    It¡¯s okay. Everything¡¯s going to be okay. We fixed it. I fixed it.

    And nothing like this is ever going to happen again.

    ¡°Lou.¡±

    Yulia¡¯s probing tone attached to my name jolts me out of the moment, reminding me that our saga within this city isn¡¯t over. It also draws my attention to the other people in the room. Thankfully, my future sister-in-law doesn¡¯t look overly bothered being ignored. The others, on the other hand, are incredibly nervous. I can smell the fear wafting from the corner of the room they¡¯re huddled in. Three of them, hunters based off their reactions. The question is, what are enemies doing in our safe room?

    ¡°I¡ª"

    ¡°Who are they?¡± I interrupt, waving a hand in the strangers¡¯ direction. The simple gesture makes them flinch. They¡¯re doing a fantastic job of convincing me they aren¡¯t threats, which is rapidly improving their odds of surviving.

    ¡°They were in the building where I was held and helped me escape,¡± the snow bunny quickly explains. ¡°I promised them that they wouldn¡¯t face repercussions.¡±

    I see. They betrayed their people to save their skins. Is it something I respect? No, but I will uphold Yulia¡¯s promise. It¡¯d be shameful to return goodwill with death and it could serve me well to have a reputation that encourages others to work for me. Mercy is beyond me, at least for a while until I can learn to balance it with excessive violence, but rewarding good behavior should be fine.

    ¡°Well, what are you people waiting for? The fighting¡¯s over, the city¡¯s safe¡­relatively. Get out of here.¡±

    The hunters look at each other, having a quiet conversation. Before they can come to a conclusion, Yulia raises a palm toward them but addresses her words to me. ¡°A moment, Lou. I was thinking that they could assist us.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± My tone suggests how much I doubt it.

    ¡°Yes. The fighting may be done but the city is still dangerous, the future uncertain. It may have taken them a little push, but they did the right thing. I think that deserves to be rewarded.¡±

    ¡°Are their lives not reward enough?¡± Kierra growls, never taking her eyes off Talia.

    ¡°¡­in the coming days, weeks, even months, the city is going to look for someone to show them the way forward. We can show them retribution¡­or we can show them mercy.¡±

    ¡°No. More. Mercy.¡± Each word is bitten off, the last said with so much heat, the snow bunny can¡¯t hold my gaze. ¡°¡­but you have a point. Someone has to decide what happens next. Which reminds me. Geneva?¡±

    The succubus casually leaning against a wall walks over to me, tail slowly waving through the air. ¡°Yes, Lou?¡±

    ¡°Drag the Teppins home. We need to talk.¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

    As the door closes behind her, I turn to the hunters. ¡°She thinks you can help me. Do you?¡±

    It takes them a moment to realize that I¡¯m talking to them, but when they do, a younger man, only a few years older than me I suspect, practically swallows his tongue in his haste to answer. ¡°Yes! Uh, my lady! Whatever you need. Right?¡± The other two, an older man and a young woman, both nod enthusiastically.

    ¡°Whatever I need, huh.¡± I move past Yulia and stand before them, looking them up and down. Relying on and trusting my senses.

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    The younger man that was so quick to talk is the calmest of them. He¡¯s afraid, a little, but his expression is exaggerated and that hurried tone of his was faked. His heartbeat is slow and steady, his brown eyes calm. This bastard is weighing the odds, isn¡¯t he?

    The older man isn¡¯t nearly as composed. Oh, he¡¯s not quaking in his admittedly nice boots and his expression is rather composed, but the fear coming off him is real. The real tell is his gaze. It bounces around the room, particularly between Kierra and me. This is a man keenly aware of the danger we represent.

    The woman is unquestionably the most afraid. Her lips are trembling, her eyes are flighty, and the fear coming off her is so strong it¡¯s offensive. Ugh. Why am I bothering with this? I don¡¯t even want to be around these three, let alone find some way to use them. The younger man can¡¯t even be trusted, I¡¯d bet my last crown on it.

    But I suppose this is the least I can do for Yulia, given what she¡¯s endured. Sigh. At least I can push them onto her. Originally, we were going to send the snow bunny home as soon as possible but with all the danger gone, there¡¯s no need to hurry. As Alana said, let her bounce around a bit, show her face and be fawned over. Then we¡¯ll send her home with a couple of wagons full of goodies and let her loving husband hug away the whole horrible experience.

    ¡°Alright, fine. I assume if you were smart enough to free Yulia then you told your families to get out of the city?¡±

    The younger man grimaces but it feels faked again. Is he searching for sympathy? The other two nod. ¡°Get out of here, make sure they¡¯re okay. Tomorrow evening, I expect to see you at the Teppin estate.¡± I look back and forth between them as they just gape at me. ¡°Well? What are you people still doing here? Go!¡±

    They scurry out of the room like rats fleeing a housecat. I scoff when the door slams shut behind them. ¡°What is it you think they can help us with?¡±

    ¡°Organizing the hunters. Splintering what remains of them before they can re-organize. Putting them to work to finish up the March quickly.¡±

    ¡°You think you can get them to do that? They¡¯re not dogs, easily tamed with a few treats. And they¡¯re going to be angry. Those three came to their senses and managed to save themselves some hurt but a whole lot more didn¡¯t. They¡¯re not going to be in the mood to listen.¡± It¡¯d be the smart thing, but if this mess has taught me anything, it¡¯s that intelligence loses to greed.

    ¡°Not treats, Lou. Fear. They¡¯re beaten dogs. I was on the street during your¡­demonstration. The hunters aren¡¯t loyal or trustworthy by any measure, but they are done fighting, at least in the short term. You can trust that.¡±

    Trust they know what¡¯s good for them? Hah. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You can be the face of this thing, but Geneva¡¯s going to be running it.¡± Let someone else worry about a succubus pulling their strings. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that. You just said it yourself, they can¡¯t be trusted. You can make suggestions, but she will make sure the caravan stays on the road and isn¡¯t attacked by monsters, so to speak.¡± My eyes narrow as I see her dissatisfaction. ¡°Don¡¯t argue.¡±

    ¡°¡­very well. This is your city now, Lady Tome.¡± Her tone is a mix of amusement, sarcasm, frustration, and, most importantly, respect. ¡°We shall do things as you say.¡±

    ¡°Good. We can discuss it more back at the estate. You all can head back first while I go get the kids. But first.¡± I move over to the two women who haven¡¯t let go of each other this whole time and clear my throat. Kierra gives me a side-eye. I flash my best pout and she relents, chuckling softly as she releases Talia from her arms.

    Those damn hunters. They didn¡¯t mistreat her, but her disheveled appearance and her bloodshot eyes show that captivity wasn¡¯t good for our special mistress. Don¡¯t those bastards understand that a flower wilts if it isn¡¯t cared for properly? It must have been hard for her.

    Yet, her demeanor is impeccable. She immediately moves into my arms as I raise them, pressing against me and laying her head on my shoulder. I know she isn¡¯t scared but I still rub her back soothingly. ¡°You okay?¡±

    ¡°Perfectly fine.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? They didn¡¯t hurt you? Didn¡¯t scare you?¡±

    She lets out a breath of air, which is as close as she comes to chuckling unless she¡¯s faking it. ¡°My interrogator rightly assumed that pain wouldn¡¯t motivate me. As for fear, there was nothing to be afraid of.¡±

    ¡°Nothing, huh?¡±

    ¡°I was an asset whose value was tied to my life. They would not kill me. So long as they didn¡¯t kill me, you would find me and make me whole. There was nothing to fear.¡±

    My heart swells at her words, one of my hands traveling into her hair that feels a bit greasy. She must be miserable in this state. A flower is meant to be pampered. Talia may be detached, but she is passionate about her self-image these days. It¡¯s the only thing she is passionate about besides her magic and her role, which is tied to her pursuit of magic.

    She follows my gentle tug and raises her head, slowly opening her eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whisper, staring into that exotic gaze. ¡°This should never have happened.¡±

    ¡°I forgive you.¡±

    Ah. How does she do it? Always knowing just what to say. I didn¡¯t want to be told it wasn¡¯t my fault. It was. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    ¡°Under these circumstances, no. And should it happen again, you will come for me again.¡±

    I suppose I¡¯m only one woman¡­being. But she trusts me. That I know from the easy conviction in her tone. Good enough. I pull her into a kiss, smiling as I do.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-140 (Alyssa)

    ¡°Ancestors¡­¡±

    Alyssa knew death. She knew destruction on a grand scale. There wasn¡¯t much to destroy beyond the Peaks, but she¡¯d seen a titan¡¯s magic take out chunks of the mountains, throw up enough snow to swallow an army, and shatter the ground. She¡¯d seen hundreds die, had helped carry their bodies home. She¡¯d attended so many Rites she couldn¡¯t look at a bonfire without getting sick to her stomach. The consequences of war were as familiar to her as her red hair or her magic. She thought she was prepared. Thought she could handle it.

    But as she looked over the decimated city, Alyssa felt her hardened resolve shake. It was different. The horrors of the north were strictly contained to the wasteland beyond the mountains. Whatever complaints she had about her birthplace, she¡¯d always been comforted by the sight of its enormous walls. They represented safety and stability. No matter what she endured during a campaign, she always knew it was over once she stepped through those gates.

    Now, Quest was her home and the war hadn¡¯t stopped outside its walls. It had been waged in the streets. Rather than stupid piles of rocks, homes and livelihoods had been leveled. All the corpses belonged to people. Dumb, arrogant, short-sighted people that had stuffed their heads in the titan¡¯s maw and dared it to bite down, but people nonetheless.

    The hunters were the closest equivalent to soldiers the city had, as the guards were nothing but glorified handymen. She could accept them putting their lives on the line and forfeiting them. If only the damage had been contained to them. What truly horrified the ex-knight was the civilian casualties. The families that thought hiding in their homes would be enough to protect them. The oblivious who¡¯d denied the possibility of war till the very end. The greedy who remained in search of opportunity in the crisis.

    She couldn¡¯t begin to estimate the death toll but it couldn¡¯t be anything less than several hundred. Possibly thousands. That was death on the level of the worst campaigns in Victory¡¯s long history.

    There were two things that Alyssa was absolutely sure of as she surveyed the destruction from atop the city¡¯s walls. The first was that what had happened to the city would have far-reaching consequences. The second was that no one except the king himself would have the daring to challenge Lourianne Tome again. Mayhap not even the crown.

    ¡°Blessed saviors,¡± Lane swore softly. He¡¯d asked to accompany her when she told him she intended to check on the city. She didn¡¯t know what his motives were, as there were a handful of reasons to want to escape the temporary camp, but she had no doubt his mind was entirely focused on the mess before him after seeing it. ¡°What¡­how¡­¡±

    ¡°The refugees are saying there was some kind of purple monster behind it.¡± That¡¯s what they were now. Refugees. The camp created by the Hall was meant to be a temporary measure, intended for a week at most. Now, with half of the city in ruins, Alyssa imagined people would be reluctant to leave their makeshift shelters, both because they had nowhere to go and were too afraid to step foot into Quest¡¯s walls. On top of that, the sudden sickness had ravaged their supplies. Cynthia had to be pulling her hair out while running around trying to secure any surplus.

    ¡°You think it was summoning? Some kind of elemental?¡±

    ¡°It has to be.¡±

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    ¡°That can¡¯t be. I mean, we¡¯d know if something like that was possible. Right?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s supposed to be possible. Summoning is¡­blessed asses, I¡¯m not an expert, but I know it has to do with give and take. There may be things out there that can do¡­that.¡± She weakly gestured at the rubble. ¡°But they ask for an equal price. Or an unequal price. I can¡¯t imagine what someone would have to offer to something capable of doing this. It shouldn¡¯t be something anyone can pay.¡±

    ¡°What are we supposed to do?¡±

    She scoffed, resisting the urge to throw the question right back at him. It wasn¡¯t wrong for him to look to her for answers. His little crush aside, she was his boss and his mentor. She wished she had someone to throw her questions at. Perhaps she would unload her worries onto Dunwayne or her friends later. But right now, she was the one with the highest authority.

    ¡°We search the wreckage for survivors. If they¡¯re breathing, we do our best to keep them that way. If they aren¡¯t, we get the bodies back to their families.¡± That part she was familiar with, as it was no different from returning from a campaign. ¡°After that¡­I guess we clear the rubble and rebuild.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s going to take a lot of magic. Or even more manpower. Which makes a whole hell of a lot of gold.¡±

    ¡°The city has money. Saints know that ink-pushing lord taxes everything that goes through the gates, either way. I think the estate is fine. The destruction seems focused on the south of the city.¡±

    ¡°Do you think they did that on purpose?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Lou isn¡¯t¡­eh. There¡¯re enough brains in that house that I doubt they¡¯d make such a stupid mistake as angering the Hall for no reason.¡± Before, she would have said it was because they didn¡¯t want to bite off more than they could chew. Now, she was overwhelmingly relieved they didn¡¯t want the extra bother. ¡°If for no other reason than to have someone else clean up their mess.¡± She doubted very much that the Tome house would have anything to do with the recovery efforts.

    ¡°Okay. We can fix this. It¡¯ll take a while and it¡¯ll be hard¡­¡± Lane swallowed. ¡°But that¡¯s not the problem. My question is¡­what¡¯s there to stop them from doing this again?¡±

    ¡°You want the answer the king is going to give, the answer the city is going to give, or the real answer?¡±

    ¡°¡­why are there three?¡±

    She let out a weak huff of a laugh as she raised a finger. ¡°The king¡¯s answer is going to be a show of force. Royal knights. The army. Something large and noisy. The crown has been looking for a good reason to get a hand around Quest for a long time. He¡¯s not going to let such a perfect opportunity go.¡±

    She raised a second finger. ¡°The city¡¯s answer is going to be gold. The guilds have been dealt a heavy blow, but they¡¯ve been an institution in this city for too long. Unless they¡¯re stomped out to the last man and woman, they¡¯ll run this city. And the first thing they¡¯re going to do is reassure everyone that a monster isn¡¯t going to destroy what¡¯s left of the city. They¡¯ll do what they should have done in the first place and give the big bully from the north their gold. If they pay up, Lou has no reason to attack and everyone can focus on getting their lives back on track.¡±

    ¡°That sounds pretty logical to me,¡± Lane mused. ¡°Why isn¡¯t that the real answer?¡±

    ¡°Because the real answer is that no one in this city, saints, maybe in this kingdom, can do fuck all to guarantee anything. We don¡¯t know if Lou is done. If she was angry enough to do this, she¡¯s angry enough to fuck with everyone by letting them think it¡¯s over before going on another rampage. The truth is, we¡¯re all going to be sleeping with one eye open and tightly clenched bladders until someone does something to convince that woman to get the hell out of the area.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­fuck.¡±

    Alyssa peeked at him. Something about the way he gazed at the city gave the impression of being lost. An emotion she could relate to. They were all lost, caught in the storm of Lou¡¯s temper. Hopefully, for all their sakes, the storm had passed.

    If not¡­Alyssa left the north to escape war. She was a bit too old to be starting again but if the only options were finding a quiet corner of the kingdom to disappear to or death, she¡¯d pack her bags. She might do it anyway. Quest wasn¡¯t going to be a habitable place for the foreseeable future.

    Maybe it wouldn¡¯t be fit for decent living ever again.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-141

    Whimsy is a terrible motivation for becoming a guardian. However, I don¡¯t think being whimsical makes me a bad person. That day, on the King¡¯s Road, I did a good thing when I offered those bandits the chance to redeem themselves through serving me. I did a good thing when I brought back the orphaned siblings.

    Were there better options? I¡¯d bet there are. It might be arrogant to think as much but I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve changed their lives for the better and set them on a path of potential unlike anyone else could offer. Under Geneva¡¯s guidance, they will grow to be great, greater than even the saints, the heroes of humanity. However, I¡¯m not nearly so confident that they will have the best life they could have.

    On that fateful day, I could have taken the siblings to someone with experience raising children. Someone who would have healed their traumatic experiences rather than using them as a whetstone. If the stories told about seers is true, there was a future where my whim was altruistic instead of selfish, and they grew up to be kind people, who married other kind people, and raised loving families.

    Or maybe I drop them off somewhere and they experience events that end with them enduring a shitty fate a hundred times worse than anything they faced in the capital. I try not to dwell on the what ifs. They can drive a person mad. Instead, I focus on what I¡¯m doing right.

    Rather than thinking about how my hesitance, my insistence on being a good person, endangered my loved ones, I congratulate myself on doing what needed to be done to see them home safely. I¡¯ve made many questionable mistakes in regard to my young servants, but they are happy, healthy, and strong. I also protected them when I could have used them as effective soldiers. The riff-raff that make up the average hunters would have been nothing but moving targets.

    But no, I have no intention of turning my wards into killing machines. I may not be the best option but I¡¯m far from the worst. I care.

    My heart confirms as much with the wave of relief that floods my mind as I approach a small smattering of trees outside the city and the siblings stand up, perfectly fine. An orange blur darts out from a bush and throws itself at me. I catch the imp feigning excitement, enjoying the act.

    The kids¡¯ excitement is very real. They both rush toward me, though Earl contains himself to a dignified stride, the only sign of his feelings his small smile. Anna has no such restraint, racing toward me while trailing golden balls of fluff that hurriedly hop after her.

    ¡°Lady Lou!¡±

    I shuffle the imp onto my shoulders and scoop her up, matching her smile with a large grin. ¡°Hey, kid. Didn¡¯t make you wait too long, did I?¡± She shakes her head and my hand unconsciously hovers over her mop of wild hair, wanting to comb the unruly curls.

    ¡°Good evening, my lady.¡± As I look over my steward, he looks me over in turn. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see that you are unharmed.¡±

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    ¡°Back at you.¡±

    ¡°The rest of the house?¡±

    My grin widens. ¡°Everyone¡¯s back at the estate, waiting for me to bring you home.¡±

    ¡°Thank the saints.¡±

    ¡°Is it over?¡± the little girl in my arms asks innocently and my smile wilts at the edges.

    ¡°I wish it was but not yet.¡± I give into my urges and comb my fingers through her hair. The flocketts finally catch up and amuse themselves messing with my boots while they squeak for their small guardian to give them attention. ¡°This was never about a fight. I didn¡¯t want to fight anyone. I wanted them to listen so I had to smack them to get their attention. Now, they¡¯re ready to listen and I can handle the important things we came back to do.¡±

    Anna nods seriously. Wait. Did I just teach her something bad?

    Eh, it¡¯s fine. She can¡¯t get into any more trouble than anyone else in the family, right?

    ¡°Coo!¡± {Lou, would you like to check on the Hall¡¯s camp before we return?}

    The camp, huh. I don¡¯t know. Is there any reason to?

    {The mob¡¯s mentality ebbs and flows from one extreme to another. They are lost sheep desperately searching for a shepherd. Much could be done if you choose to intervene.}

    Seeing it¡¯s coming from a succubus, I don¡¯t doubt her evaluation. Quest was destroyed. The Teppin family, its official leaders, are being dragged back to their estate that they fled from, and the guilds, the city¡¯s unofficial leaders, have suffered horrible casualties. The only other group the populace might turn to, the Hall, made it clear they don¡¯t want to be involved. There is a gaping hole in the city¡¯s leadership right now. It doesn¡¯t take a master manipulator to look at the situation and see an opportunity. I broke the city. I could rebuild it, in my image.

    ¡­nah.

    ¡°Let someone else try to sit in the broken chair.¡±

    ¡°Coo.¡± {Are you sure? Would it not be good to have a place to call your own, completely under your power? Even dragons build nests.}

    That does sound wonderful. A whole sprawling city, completely under my family¡¯s, no, my clan¡¯s control. There¡¯d be a whole lot of green for Kierra. Talia would oversee the design. I wonder if each street would have a different theme. Alana could handle public order, dishing out justice, whether that means punishments or rewards. And while she plays hero, Geneva would take care of the dirty work, hunting down traitors and doing all manners of horrifying things to those with the audacity to betray us.

    It¡¯d be somewhere we could relax and indulge in all our gifts that don¡¯t relate to excessive violence. Somewhere to explore our growing relationships. Maybe start a family, someday.

    I¡¯d love that¡­but Quest isn¡¯t that place.

    {Why?} Bell questions, though she knows the answer. She wants me to admit it, to commit to the answer. Do you think it¡¯s hard? It isn¡¯t. After today, saints, after the last week, nothing is easier and few things more apparent.

    ¡°They aren¡¯t worthy.¡±

    The arrogant hunters, the idiotic people, and the Hall that refuses to take a stand. None of them deserve to be under my rule. I give my all to my clan. If this city was their home, I¡¯d do everything in my power to make it the best it could be. No resource would be spared. Everyone would be raised to their full potential. It would be the closest thing to Paradise this world is capable of.

    And they don¡¯t deserve it.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I say to the kids as Bell¡¯s laughter echoes in my mind. ¡°Let¡¯s go home. It¡¯ll be a proper dinner for the first time in a while.¡±

    ¡°Have you not been eating properly, my lady? While you are a peerless creature, you are still a living being and will suffer without proper nutrition.¡±

    ¡°No good,¡± Anna says after I put her down.

    Am I supposed to feel happy after being scolded? I can¡¯t help it, they¡¯re too cute. ¡°Yes, yes,¡± I say while ruffling the little girl¡¯s hair, disrupting her efforts to collect her squeaking fluff balls. Bell, scout ahead for us.

    ¡°Coo!¡± The imp sprints away and the three of us follow at a comfortable pace.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-142

    The night before my assault on the city, I tasked Geneva with tracking down the Teppin family. They aren¡¯t too important in the grand scheme of things. They certainly aren¡¯t a threat. I doubt they¡¯d disappear quietly into the night if I left to them to their own devices, Lord Teppin strikes me as the vengeful type, but there isn¡¯t much they can do. The reason I kept the estate originally was to stop them from giving the crown justification for marching their forces into the city and complicating matters. Well, I¡¯ve given the king all the justification he could ever want and expect his forces at the gates as soon as he can march them to me.

    They really are irrelevant. So why am I going out of my way to have them tracked down? Because they ran. They escaped. That can¡¯t be allowed. There can be only one outcome for those who work against me, failure. If an entire family goes around bragging that they escaped my clutches, then someone else will think they can do so too. It¡¯ll encourage them when they should be thinking twice. It¡¯s bad luck for the Teppins but they¡¯ll have to suffer for me to make a point, though I have no idea what to do with them. I can¡¯t keep them as servants forever¡­can I?

    What am I thinking, of course I could. Who would stop me? The better question is, do I want to? And what kind of servants would they be? I don¡¯t see them as I see the siblings or my quirky gardener. Can I have servants I don¡¯t care about? If I can¡¯t, do the Teppins deserve to be a part of my clan?

    Sure, they¡¯d be forced into serving me, but I don¡¯t think of myself as a demanding lady. I¡¯m also generous. It won¡¯t compare to the wealth of a middling noble family governing a fairly important city, but they¡¯d have plenty of funds and a nice bed to lay their heads upon. Geneva would also make them better versions of themselves than they could ever imagine. She would demand as much as nothing else would be able to serve me properly. She would make them faster, stronger, and smarter. They¡¯d be dragged to the top of Harvest, and further.

    Entering the house to the sound of the annoying older daughter¡¯s loud curses, I¡¯ve already forgotten her name, I don¡¯t think they deserve it all. My clan deserves the best. Failing that, at least people I like. The Teppins don¡¯t qualify at all.

    The whole family is kneeling in the front room; the lord unfortunately no longer wearing a drab dress, the lady holding her younger daughter to her chest, and the older girl at the end. Their attitudes haven¡¯t changed given their demeanors. The lord is resigned, his wife and youngest are terrified, and the older girl is indignant. Despite their differences, they all obediently remain kneeling, none of the four daring to twitch a limb. I¡¯m sure that has something to do with the succubus standing over them. Geneva wears her usual charming smile as she listens to the indignant daughter berate her with truly vulgar curses. I frown as I glance down at Anna. She looks up as I tap her shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t repeat anything she¡¯s saying. It¡¯ll make you dumber.¡±

    The little girl nods seriously. Saints, she really takes everything I say to heart, doesn¡¯t she? Ah, this is why kids used to make me nervous. They still do. But the little beastie is part of my family. Her future is already in my hands. I¡¯ll mold her unintentionally no matter what so it¡¯s better to do so with intention.

    Though the Teppin family doesn¡¯t hear my words over the oldest daughter¡¯s shouts, Geneva notices me. Her smile stretches that much wider. ¡°Welcome back, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Bell, see the kids are cleaned up and get started on dinner,¡± I say as the Teppins all crane their necks to look at me. Their eyes follow as I walk over to stand beside Geneva and I watch them in turn. Really, what am I going to do with these four?

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    ¡°Oh, look. The crazy cunt-licker herself is back.¡± The abrasive woman changes targets, addressing me with her unsavory comments. I focus on her and she sneers. ¡°What¡¯s it going to be now, huh? Going to make us scrub floors? Wash your ass for you? Don¡¯t even bother. I¡¯m not playing your stupid games anymore. If you try to make me serve a single fucking cup of tea, I swear I will break the cup on your thick head and shove the sharp pieces up your perverted ass. I¡¯d rather die than play your dumb game!¡±

    ¡­why have you continued to let her scream this nonsense?

    [You enjoyed her spirit.]

    I did, didn¡¯t I? Before people with too much spirit kidnapped my lover. By the Abyss, I feel so¡­different. Is it possible for someone to change in such a short time? Right now, I don¡¯t see anything admirable in her little tirade. She¡¯s just a brat that doesn¡¯t understand how harsh the world can be. How fast everything can be taken from you. I thought as much before, but she doesn¡¯t understand that I hold her life, and the lives of her family, in my hands. I don¡¯t see any of the crippling worry I endured knowing my actions could get Talia killed in her features.

    I think we should start there.

    ¡°Have it your way.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ª"

    She can¡¯t finish her word before Geneva is on her, her petite body knocking the bigger woman to the ground as dainty fingers wrap around her throat. The succubus could kill her instantly in a dozen different ways, but she drags it out, slowly choking her. Lady Teppin looks at me tearfully, begging me to intervene while clutching her younger, whimpering daughter tighter. Lord Teppin, to his credit, overcomes his fear and throws himself at Geneva. Her tail flicks him away with a whipcrack, throwing him across the room.

    I step over to the dying woman, looking down at her. There it is. The fear. With each passing second that brings her closer to death, her circumstances sink in. Her hands claw at Geneva¡¯s wrists and her legs kick, but there¡¯s nothing she can do. Finally, she turns to me, eyes wide with a plea she can¡¯t speak.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me. You¡¯re the one who said you¡¯d rather die.¡±

    Her fear turns to panic. She fights harder but only for a few scant moments, as her strength is fading fast. Lady Teppin is sobbing with her head turned away. She cradles the head of the youngest, but I can make out one fearful eye staring at her dying sister through a gap in the matronly arms. Lord Teppin is blabbering on about promises and money, but I ignore him. I own everything he has already.

    Like that, the annoying woman dies, body going limp. Geneva removes her hands after the woman¡¯s heart stops. The younger daughter pisses herself. Lord Teppin watches with a dropped jaw, tears welling in his eyes. Lady Teppin cries harder.

    ¡°¡­alright, bring her back.¡±

    It¡¯s a struggle not to laugh alongside my succubus as Geneva places a hand glowing with the green glow of physical mana to the dead woman¡¯s chest and she jolts upright while taking a deep breath. Their expressions are incredibly hilarious, faint traces of fear and devastation lingering on the purest expressions of shock I¡¯ve ever witnessed.

    The revived daughter¡¯s expression is the best of the lot. She is¡­utterly confused. As if there are so many thoughts in her head, she can¡¯t focus on one long enough to do anything, not even to make a different face.

    I snap my fingers in front of her until she snaps out of it. When she does, I can¡¯t pinpoint the feeling behind her expression, but I have her full attention. ¡°Did you like dying?¡±

    Slowly, oh so slowly, she shakes her head.

    ¡°Do you want your family to die?¡±

    She shakes her head faster.

    ¡°Then you better learn some damn manners fast. And you¡¯re going to do what you¡¯re told. Understand?¡±

    She nods and I turn to the rest of the family. ¡°Understand?¡±

    The parents nod quickly but their daughter simply shakes in her mother¡¯s arms.  Eh, good enough.

    ¡°Get them cleaned up and feed them something. The ladies can rest but you.¡± I point to the lord who looks less than happy to be the focus on my attention. ¡°You and I need to have a talk¡­after dinner.¡±

    Don¡¯t need the kiddies being worried about me.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-143

    ¡°What do you know about any secret stashes of the guilds?¡±

    After an enjoyable meal, Geneva and I take the lord to his office. Or more accurately, my office. I¡¯m the one seated in the big chair while the lord stands before me, face drawn and shoulders slumped. On the desk is the black dagger Kierra looted from one of her opponents and perhaps the key to this whole mess.

    ¡°As far as I know, there aren¡¯t any,¡± he responds, looking thoughtful. I suppose my little demonstration earlier has motivated him to be cooperative. ¡°But they could easily hide such a thing. The guilds command¡­commanded a lot of authority. Their members, even civilians, would rather be detained or sanctioned than go against them. I tried to cultivate information assets but infiltrating their inner circles proved impossible.¡±

    ¡°So, the evidence says no but you don¡¯t have much evidence.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Also, there are¡­stories. Legends and drunken claims about families that have been in the city since its founding. Families whose ancestors hunted the manabeasts that once ruled the land. Those stories speak of weapons made from their remains, powerful artifacts.¡±

    I drum my nails on the desk. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make sense. Enchanting is a new art.¡±

    ¡°Enchanting has recently entered the public eye, but there is evidence to suggest its origins are much older. It¡¯s a powerful tool and power is often hoarded.¡±

    He has a point. No, he¡¯s right. Of course enchanting has been around for a while. My succubi know how to enchant and the Grimoires have been contracting them for centuries. At least one of them had to have successfully bargained for an artifact or at least enchanting knowledge.

    [At least one, yes.]

    I see. It¡¯s the same thing as greater affinities. In theory, no one except the royal interrogators are meant to wield the mental affinity but any power worth their name has at least one mental caster secreted away.

    The same goes for the light affinity. It is revered as the affinity wielded by the First Saint, the greatest hero of humanity. To the most fanatic believers, light casters are holy figures. Yet, the crown has people like Orphelia. As the lord said, power is always hoarded.

    I cross my hands over my stomach as I focus. ¡°So, let¡¯s work off the assumption that the guilds have a secret cache of treasure, whether it¡¯s gold, artifacts, or even the ancient enchanting techniques. Something substantial enough that they thought it could hold off the north should it come to war.¡± I turn to Geneva. ¡°You¡¯ve been spending a lot of time amongst them lately. You haven¡¯t caught onto this?¡±

    ¡°It was a possibility I considered but there has been no hard evidence to support it, until now.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Then this isn¡¯t something low-level or even mid-level hunters know about. I bet only a handful of the higher-level hunters know. Or it may have nothing at all to do with rank. It could be something like a secret group inside the hunters charged with maintaining their secrets.¡± Secrecy goes hand in hand power.

    ¡°If the knowledge or treasure was the property of certain families, their descendants may be the ones tasked with guarding the secret.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s a matter of tracking down those families and then interrogating them for the location. Enough for you?¡±

    The succubus grins wolfishly. ¡°You need only give the order.¡±

    I flick my fingers at her. ¡°Go on. Fetch.¡±

    Lord Teppin shivers as she chuckles, only calming when she¡¯s gone and the door closes behind her. ¡°Do you not worry? Taunting that¡­creature?¡±

    ¡°Worry?¡± I scoff. ¡°I¡¯d be an idiot if I didn¡¯t. She terrifies me some days. But I never worry that she¡¯ll lash out. That¡¯s not the kind of dangerous she is. You should be worried. There¡¯s nothing to stop her from hurting you on a whim.¡±

    ¡°Except you.¡±

    ¡°Except me. Saints, if I wanted, she¡¯d treat you like a king. Unfortunately for you and your family, you haven¡¯t shown me anything worth that kind of consideration. In fact, you haven¡¯t shown me anything worthy of anything but dismissal.¡± I lean forward, meeting his gaze and holding it. ¡°And that is not good.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± he asks after I refuse to elaborate, letting the silence work on his nerves.

    ¡°Because, if you have nothing to offer, then I¡¯ll get rid of you. You¡¯ve already seen what that means.¡±

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    ¡°¡­at least let my daughters go.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve done nothing!¡±

    ¡°That yappy one has done plenty but that doesn¡¯t matter. Who cares if they¡¯re saints or monsters in human skin? They are a problem.¡±

    ¡°How? I don¡¯t understand. Neither can do anything to threaten you.¡±

    ¡°Simple. You ran.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°You ran. You were my prisoner and you escaped. If people think they can escape my wrath, they¡¯ll underestimate me. The hunters underestimated me and I had to destroy a city. What¡¯ll happen next time? Will I have to level an entire region? Half the kingdom? Better two apparently innocent girls die now than thousands later.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± A hand rises to the lord¡¯s head, as if his thoughts are too heavy. ¡°For something like that¡­¡±

    ¡°It sucks, doesn¡¯t it? It¡¯s horrible and unfair.¡± Too bad the world doesn¡¯t care about fair. The strong will do what they want and the weak have no choice but to accept it or become strong themselves. If our positions were reversed and the lord was the one with power over my family, I know he wouldn¡¯t be merciful. ¡°You should take the night and think about¡ª"

    ¡°¡­you are interested in women, are you not?¡±

    I pause. Lord Teppin makes a valiant effort to keep his expression neutral but it¡¯s impossible. Tiny twitches near his eyes and the corners of his mouth give away how uncomfortable he is. ¡°What are you suggesting?¡±

    ¡°My daughters¡­¡± He swallows heavily. Oh, this must be hard. I¡¯m both disgusted and amused by this turn of events. He¡¯s really doing it, isn¡¯t he? ¡°They¡¯re very beautiful.¡±

    I wouldn¡¯t go that far. Kierra is very beautiful and they don¡¯t compare to my wife. However, I¡¯ll admit they¡¯re better than average. ¡°They don¡¯t take after their father, no.¡±

    He frowns briefly but quickly smothers his displeasure. ¡°They are well-bred, with impeccable manners and a proper education. Leena is a sweet girl with a generous heart. Villarey¡­she¡¯s got a sharp tongue but¡ª"

    ¡°Stop.¡± I hold up a hand to further discourage him. ¡°While I understand how desperate you must be to try and sell your daughters to the woman who has ruined your lives and is threatening to kill you, I¡¯m not interested. You¡¯re wasting your breath. You¡¯d be better off getting some sleep. Maybe with some rest, you¡¯ll be able to come up with something less inane. Go,¡± I command when he opens his mouth.

    The lord bows his head and stiffly walks out of the office. I chuckle as the door closes. ¡°What a day,¡± I mutter. Just as I start to relax, there¡¯s a knock on the door. My first reflex is to tell whoever it is to go away but my next breath tells me its Alana. ¡°Come in.¡±

    I trust my senses but I¡¯m still gratified to see my favorite blond step into the room. My brows go up as I note the bottle in her hand and a deep breath reveals what it is despite the seal of its top being unbroken. ¡°Where¡¯d you get the shroom juice?¡±

    ¡°Sent Bell for it.¡± My gaze moves to her thigh as she perches on the edge of the desk. I notice the lack of cups but Alana isn¡¯t bothered, drinking straight from the bottle before passing it to me. We trade sips in silence until she eventually asks a question. ¡°The Teppins. What are you going to do with them?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got no clue. Honestly, I¡¯d love a good idea.¡±

    ¡°Let me handle them.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I lean forward, placing my chin in a palm as I grin at her. ¡°Lord Teppin remarked that his daughters would make excellent concubines.¡± I burst into laughter at the look she gives me. ¡°See? I need ideas.¡±

    ¡°I thought we could make them our mouths.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    She takes a long swig of her bottle. ¡°I¡¯m sure there are a lot of people out there looking to get even. People who are going to do their best to screw us over.¡±

    ¡°I think we proved they can¡¯t do anything.¡±

    ¡°Which is why they won¡¯t come after us directly.¡± She points a finger at me. ¡°Imagine there is an enemy you want to destroy but it is far beyond your power. What do you do?¡±

    ¡°Run.¡±

    She rolls her eyes with a huff. ¡°Lou.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine. So, I¡¯m an idiot that¡¯s going to fight a superior enemy instead of running. Or not. Pay someone else to fight them.¡±

    That¡¯s apparently the answer she¡¯s looking for as she nods. ¡°Exactly. The hunters failed to stop us, but I doubt they¡¯ve given up on the city. So, if they want to bring us down, they¡¯re going to need help.¡± She raises three fingers. ¡°There are only three places they can go to find support. Summer Spire, Rosentheim, and Graywatch.¡±

    ¡°Graywatch? You¡¯re kidding.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re a bunch of crazy pirates. As long as there¡¯s a payday involved, they don¡¯t care. Look at Arthur.¡±

    ¡°Point taken. Then? You want to send the Teppins out to, what? Warn the leaders not to get involved? I don¡¯t think they¡¯re the best ones to speak on our behalf.¡± Wouldn¡¯t that be the perfect time to sabotage us?

    ¡°Just Lord and Lady Teppin. Unlike Yulia, they actually have experience in negotiating and diplomacy. After all, their family has managed to survive the tyranny of the guilds for generations.¡± She takes a long swig of the bottle. Then a second one. Guess she¡¯s not interested in sharing anymore. ¡°The daughters stay behind. Insurance to make sure they do their jobs properly.¡±

    ¡°Hm. I don¡¯t hate the idea, but it seems like an unnecessary risk. We could grab a few succubi to play messengers. They¡¯d be a lot more trustworthy and far better at the job.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Those things are trustworthy now?¡±

    Another excellent point. ¡°They won¡¯t plot against my well-being at least.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll take time for them to move but we can send the Teppins out tomorrow. More importantly, it gets them off the estate and out of our way.¡± She shrugs. ¡°What else are they going to do besides being eyesores?¡±

    ¡°How about this? We¡¯ll do both. The Teppins first, so the guilds don¡¯t get a head start and then a few succubi to make sure they aren¡¯t messing things up. Sound good?¡±

    ¡°Mm. Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve gotta admit, I didn¡¯t expect this kind of plan from you.¡± It¡¯s a bit too devious for my straightforward knight.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my plan. We were talking around the table after you disappeared.¡± I assume that we refers to all three of my lovers. ¡°I volunteered to come in here so I could do this.¡±

    I push back the chair as she comes around my desk, opening my arms when she shows no intention of stopping. To my surprise, she helps herself to my lap, laying her head on my shoulder. After a beat, I realize this isn¡¯t that kind of advance and wrap my arms around her in a hug. She sighs, shoulders sagging as she melts into me.

    ¡°I¡¯m tired,¡± she mumbles.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a long day,¡± I whisper back. Saints, has it been a long day.

    ¡°We can go to bed soon. I just¡­need a few moments.¡±

    My answer is to gently rub her back.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-144

    The Teppin daughters do not take the news of their parents¡¯ new duties well.

    I didn¡¯t expect them to. Aside from the fact that they¡¯re family, and family is incredibly precious in times of crisis, I bet there is still a childish voice inside them that hopes mommy and daddy can save them from the nasty woman that stole their house. The younger sister has only managed so far because of her mother physically shielding her from the worst of their new reality. She isn¡¯t eager to lose that support. Rather, she¡¯s completely devastated. It physically pains Lady Teppin to leave her wailing daughter, but she has no choice in the matter.

    More interesting is the older daughter¡¯s reaction. Villarey. Her name I¡¯ve endeavored to remember. It would be a bit too rude not to seeing as I¡¯ve ordered her death. Something that has affected her much more than I thought. I¡¯ve experienced dying myself. Experienced fatal wounds where I thought I would die until I remembered I¡¯m immortal as far as we can prove.

    The point is that dying isn¡¯t that big of a deal for me. I understand being afraid in the moment, I was terrified when I was bleeding out on Crowley Cain¡¯s cold stone floor, but once you wake up whole and healthy, it¡¯s a bit ridiculous to dwell on the fact that you came close to death. If anything, survival is cause for celebration. Honestly, I expected Rey to be grateful for her second chance, if a bit hesitant to throw around her snappy comebacks.

    She is not at all grateful. She¡¯s quiet, which was the point of my demonstration, but to a startling degree. As in, I haven¡¯t heard a peep out of her since the day of her very brief death. When I¡¯m near her, she tries not to make any sound, going as far as to hold her breath. The loud spoken and crass woman has turned into a ghost of herself.

    One who¡¯s similarly devastated by her parents¡¯ leaving. She isn¡¯t as vocal as her sister but the stark fear on her face is poignant. If this were a few weeks earlier, putting such an expression on the face of an innocent, if not very pleasant, woman would have been uncomfortable. Now, I don¡¯t have enough care left to bother.

    Once the carriages Geneva found for the two of them, mounts included, which is incredibly impressive given the state of the city but I expected nothing less, are gone, I take the sisters to the living room and seat them on the couch. The younger one shakes like a frightened puppy while Rey does her frozen, not breathing thing. That¡¯s not sustainable.

    ¡°Breathe,¡± I demand, and they both draw in a sharp breath. ¡°Good. Now, I¡¯m sure everything was a little hectic earlier so I¡¯m going to explain why your parents aren¡¯t here in a little more detail. There¡¯re two reasons they¡¯re leaving the city. The first is that hunters are idiots. Throughout this whole mess, they¡¯ve proven that they cannot be trusted to act in their own, or anybody¡¯s, best interests. As such, your parents are going to do a little diplomacy to stop what happened to Quest happening to any other cities or large villages. Whoever those idiots might think to drag into this mess. Think of it this way. They¡¯re working to save lives.¡±

    Amusingly, my little joke calms down the younger sister. I suppose it¡¯s better to think the Teppins are doing heroes¡¯ work rather than facing saints know what. ¡°The second reason. I didn¡¯t want them here.¡± I hold up a hand to forestall whatever nonsense their panicked brains are in the middle of concocting. ¡°There aren¡¯t any unsavory reasons behind that. Think about it. There¡¯s nothing they could do to stop me anyway even if I did have bad intentions. When I say I don¡¯t want them here, I mean that in the sense that it annoys me having them around. Why should the man who caused me so much trouble, who worked against me, live a comfortable life? You all didn¡¯t appreciate it, but I treated you, especially your father, incredibly well for conquered enemies. Treatment you don¡¯t deserve.

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    ¡°The way I see it, your father was complicit in the guilds¡¯ plots against me. He, and by extension the Teppin family, owe me a debt. Again, you should consider yourselves lucky. The hunters will have to pay with their lives. Your parents, on the other hand, have the opportunity to pay their dues with a few weeks of rough travel and some fast talking. Which of course brings me to you two.¡±

    The panic I managed to forestall comes back full force. ¡°Breathe,¡± I have to demand again and Rey draws in air, letting it out in a shuddering sigh. ¡°In case it isn¡¯t obvious, you two are leverage. Your parents do what I tell them, and they do a good job or, well.¡± I shrug. ¡°Which now that I¡¯m doing it, I¡¯m not exactly thrilled about.¡± Reminds me of the hunters who did the exact same thing to me.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not, but unfortunately, I can¡¯t trust you people. So, hostage taking it is. Again, if it isn¡¯t obvious, neither one of you will be leaving this estate. I don¡¯t care if the saints themselves come to rescue you, don¡¯t run off. I won¡¯t kill you, since I need you alive to keep your parents in line, but you will hurt. Or maybe I will kill you. As you¡¯ve seen, I can always bring you back.¡±

    This time, I do nothing to stop the fear. I let it build within them, hunching their shoulders and twisting their lips into frowns. Good. They should be afraid of me. Since they clearly lack good judgment or deductive reasoning, fear might be the only thing that keeps them alive.

    ¡°Which brings me with what to do with you two. The servant thing was amusing, but I¡¯m done laughing. The truth is, both of you are useless. You mean nothing. Oh, no. Don¡¯t take offense. This is good for you. It means I¡¯m going to leave you alone. You are confined to the servant¡¯s wing. Everything you need will be provided. There is only one rule. You are not to be seen or heard. Don¡¯t cause trouble. Seriously, that¡¯s it. Don¡¯t. Make. Me. Deal. With. You. And I won¡¯t. You¡¯re free to amuse yourselves however you like. If you want to send me a message, you can do so through my pet when she brings your meals.¡±

    I spread my hands. ¡°That¡¯s it. Generous, right?¡±

    The two young women stare at me.

    ¡°Answer.¡±

    ¡°V-v-v-very generous! T-thank you, Lady Tome!¡± the younger sister stutters out.

    Rey offers a strangled peep of a noise. Her face is a mask of strain as she tries to speak but nothing but choking gasps and more peeps come out. Saints bless her, we really broke something. I thought someone with her spine would be made of sterner stuff. Ah, well. Hopefully, she¡¯ll take her house arrest as a time to heal. ¡°I know, but it feels nice to be appreciated. Alright, your house arrest starts now.¡± I clap. ¡°Come on! Get out of my sight! Ah, wait.¡±

    The younger sister pauses, having jumped to her feet and reached for Rey. ¡°Y-y-yes, my lady?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°¡­Leena.¡±

    ¡°Right. Well, Leena. Take care of your sister. I¡¯m making another rule. If one of you acts out, I punish both of you.¡± In her current state, I don¡¯t think I can trust Rey to be responsible for herself. This will give the girl the incentive she needs to keep a firm grasp of her sister, though I don¡¯t think she needs it. She¡¯s done an admirable job so far.

    ¡°Of course, my lady. Thank you, my lady.¡±

    Oh, that was good. She didn¡¯t even stutter.

    I watch with amusement as Leena manhandles her sister out of the room. Once they disappear, Talia slips into the room. She sidles up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her head on my shoulder. ¡°Well?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Fear and obedience. Not a trace of revolt in their thoughts.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± I raise one of her hands to my lips and kiss her fingers. ¡°Keep an eye on their thoughts. The moment they step out of line, saints, the moment you think they might step out of line, throw them at Geneva. Or do whatever. I figure you¡¯re due some vengeance.¡±

    ¡°If I wanted it, they would not be my target.¡± Slightly cool lips brush my neck. ¡°Kierra asked me to fetch you.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Better not keep her waiting.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-145 (Geneva)

    Rarely were Geneva¡¯s tasks as amusing as a literal treasure hunt.

    Once again, she lamented her lack of resources within the city. It was a bit of a blunder, though not one she faulted herself for too heavily. Her time was taken up catering to Lou, leaving her little for the cultivation of assets. She¡¯d taken the few opportunities that presented themselves, but she didn¡¯t have much cause to mingle amongst the hunters. She would have suggested as much to Lou, but she preferred it when her summoner chose to remain ignorant. Though that might change. If Lou¡¯s new drive lasted, Geneva would have to use that fiery initiative to her own ends.

    A consideration for another day. Tonight, she had to sniff out a secret society. She didn¡¯t rank humanity high amongst the intellects throughout existence, but they also weren¡¯t the lowest. The guilds certainly had some ability if they had managed to keep such a large, and valuable, secret for generations. Their arrogance had blinded them in the case of Lou, and who could blame them given the way her summoner had acted prior to her deadly tantrum, but with this, they were focused and diligent.

    In most cases, unraveling such a conspiracy would take weeks of effort. Months if the guilds had decent protocols related to possible discovery, though she doubted as much. People tended to get sloppy after getting away with a misdeed once. Getting away with keeping their secret for centuries? With their long egos and short memories, she couldn¡¯t imagine how lax they¡¯d become in their discipline.

    One of their hunters had lost a precious artifact, the only evidence of their stash, recklessly challenging a superior opponent. And for no other reason than to extract a blood price. After all, even if the null caster had managed to slay Kierra, his delusions about capturing her were just that, it wouldn¡¯t have stopped Lou or brought back any of the hunters she killed. It wouldn¡¯t have repaired the shattered city. No, the best it might have managed was soothing their injured pride. They¡¯d lashed out.

    Sloppy.

    Geneva didn¡¯t believe she could undermine generations of effort in one night, but her summoner expected results. At the very least, she needed to find a clue, something to report that showed she was making progress. That, she had confidence in.

    Lacking information, she had to resort to less graceful tactics. In the wake of the fight, the city was playing dead, like prey hoping to avoid the eyes of the stalking predator. No one should be about, either afraid to be seen or busy taking care of their wounds. If someone were willing to brave possible death, they¡¯d have very strong motivation.

    When a home was threatened, most creatures immediately evacuated, their instincts prompting them to escape the danger. Humans could be both wise and greedy. Whether it was foresight driving them to prepare for the future or an unwillingness to part with their valuables, it wasn¡¯t uncommon for humans to prioritize securing their wealth over preserving their lives. With the city having faced a great crisis, Geneva knew that the keepers of the guilds¡¯ treasure would be anxious to secure it. Or, if not secure it, discuss its continued safety.

    The succubus moved through the ruins, scanning the darkness for the anxious minds braving the dark night. The first one she found was a man, though just barely. At a glance, she didn¡¯t take him for someone that would be entrusted with valuable secrets. However, the guilds had to be short on personnel. Aside from that, his motivation fit, a strong drive to search for something valuable.

    It was a dead end. The young man¡¯s quest ended in a shattered home near the tail end of the destruction. He dug through the shattered stone and broken wood in a frenzy. As he did, his desire became clear. He wasn¡¯t looking for a stash of affinity stones. He was searching for a memento of his mother, who¡¯d refused to evacuate despite the Hall¡¯s warning. She left him to his grief.

    The second target she found was a woman, but Geneva moved on from her quickly. Her desire to search for something valuable was strong, incredibly so, but once the succubus was close, she found that the desire was empty, unfocused. The woman¡¯s mind was a mess of shock and a deep sense of loss. Not someone acting with purpose.

    It wasn¡¯t until she found her fifth anxious mind that she made progress. The night was deep then, a time when all but the most determined would have given in to sleep. The middle-aged man she found was one of a handful of people still moving within the city and the only one whose thoughts weren¡¯t focused on the criminal. He moved with purpose and intention, sticking to the deepest shadows and avoiding the places where the moon¡¯s light shone brightest.

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    It made no difference to the succubus. The man was cautious enough to occasionally check for followers, but his vision was hampered by the lack of light and Geneva was far more practiced at going unseen. When the time came that there was no adequate cover for her to hide behind, she simply moved a street over and tracked his mind. It never ceased to amaze her how careless some creatures could be with their thoughts.

    By the time he reached his destination, he no longer bothered with his paltry efforts at stealth. Geneva couldn¡¯t recognize the rubble for what it once was but his thoughts revealed it used to be a store. An unremarkable secondhand store that took in unwanted goods and turned them into functional goods. It was a staple of the city that had served many neighborhoods. It brought together all kinds, from those of means looking to give back to the less privileged doing what little they could for their neighborhoods. It wasn¡¯t uncommon to see hunters bringing in large or small boxes. The store was also open at odd hours, as they had a night shift to help with the large amount of work.

    An adequate front. For what, Geneva was unsure. The man¡¯s thoughts weren¡¯t focused on specifics. The store was a storehouse. One that contained something incredibly valuable from the man¡¯s frantic energy as he swept aside the rubble with powerful gusts of wind.

    The succubus made herself comfortable atop a chunk of rubble as she watched him work and divined what she could from his increasingly frustrated thoughts. The longer it took to clear the rubble, the more focused his thoughts became. She smiled as she caught the term Authority tied to his desperation. Even if her night revealed nothing else, it was a good enough find. With a name, she could search records and memories more effectively.

    But the revelations didn¡¯t end there. The man eventually cleared away all the debris, revealing a trapped door. He experienced a brief moment of elation when he found it, but his good mood quickly collapsed when he tried to open it.

    Then an intense, if uncreative, stream of swears flowed from his mouth. She couldn¡¯t see but his thoughts gave her a clear picture of the situation. The entrance had collapsed and was completely blocked. Just from what she was seeing secondhand, it would take a lot more than brute force to clear it and the effort could all be for nothing. Whatever valuable thing the man was so desperate to reach could have been crushed. A possibility that left him seething in anger¡­and anxiety. He was nothing more than a lackey on an errand. He didn¡¯t look forward to bringing back bad news.

    Geneva decided to shadow him for two reasons. An address didn¡¯t come to mind when he thought of where he was going, meaning she would have to see the location if she wanted to track him down the next day. Secondly, in his mind, associated with the idea of going home was comradery. Someone was waiting for him. Geneva was very interested in finding out who.

    The man moved twice as fast with his task complete. He gave no care for going unnoticed as he jogged through the streets¡­and out of the city. She wasn¡¯t surprised to see that he headed for the camp set up by the Hall. It was the best choice for several reasons. Chief among them, Lou had shown a reluctance to drag the school into their conflict. It was one place they could be reasonably sure the noblewoman wouldn¡¯t attack, making it the ideal place to regroup.

    She was a bit surprised that the Hall would allow their presence. They wanted to be involved even less than Lou wanted to involve them. Sheltering combatants was not a good way to stay neutral. She wondered what Lou would think when she reported it.

    As she shadowed the man through the shabby shelters and tents, the patrol that had asked him pointed questions before letting him in, no more aware of her than her prey, she noted the effects of her work. It was a borrowed spell, but she had confidence in it. Namely, if it didn¡¯t work as intended, she would have pointed words with the being with the audacity not to hold up their end of a bargain with her. There were circumstances that prevented outright conflict on Burning Earth but if she didn¡¯t have her ways of getting even, she wouldn¡¯t have become a don.

    The thoughts of vengeance seemed unnecessary as the bug appeared to be working as promised. Most of the people in the camp were already recovering with no lingering side effects. In another day, there would be nothing left of¡ª

    Geneva came up short, her nose picking up something unexpected. Briefly giving up her prey, she moved through the camp until she found the shelter the smell was coming from. Or, more specifically, the body it was coming from. One covered in lesions and swaddled in thin blankets.

    She warned Lou that there was a chance her spell could have effects beyond her expectations, but the chances were astronomically small. About as small as a lurker killing her father. Geneva didn¡¯t put much stock in luck, but experience had shown her that some souls attracted an uncommon number of good or bad events.

    The succubus decided right then to regard her summoner as one of those rare unlucky souls. Then she went to find her prey. While the mutating disease was worrisome, it had nothing to do with the mission she was given. Besides that, she wanted to make sure she had plenty of good news when she returned to the estate.

    Lou would not be happy and Geneva was sure she¡¯d be taking the blame.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-146 (Geneva)

    It was incredibly simple to stop a mental caster from divining one¡¯s secrets. Even one as powerful as Geneva.

    Despite her well-developed core, the expenditures that came with spellcasting could see her quickly drained if she wasn¡¯t careful. Distance was the greatest threat. Trying to use the mental affinity from any distance at all would rapidly increase the mana cost of a spell. Sustaining such a spell for any significant length of time was completely impossible.

    It boiled down to a simple principle. To beat a mental caster, keeping them far away was key. A principle the hunters understood well. The buildings where they¡¯d kept their captives didn¡¯t have many fortifications or an abundance of powerful fighters. Instead, they had eyes, everywhere. Hunters perched on nearby rooftops, on the corners of the street, and frequently patrolling the area. All of them keeping an eye out for her. None were her match. She could easily crush all their minds at the same time¡­provided they were relatively close. Having to overcome the distance between them as well as their natural defenses to mana intrusion would have taxed her core far too much.

    She could have done it, which was an incredible testament of her ability, but she wasn¡¯t immune to the effects of mana strain. Physical pain she could manage no matter how severe, but core strain affected something deeper and it never got easier to endure. And while the hunters were mere insects, challenging their best while in pain wielding a fraction of her mana was the height of arrogance. Even ants could take down predators in the right circumstances.

    Luckily, for her at least, she didn¡¯t have one tool at her disposal. Most times, there was always a better answer than the mental affinity. She could have barged into the shelter where her prey was meeting his compatriots and ripped the information out of their minds, but that would be incredibly intensive, especially as a few of them were master or near master casters from the smell of them.

    Better to quietly perch on the roof of the ugly building and listen in, draw her own conclusions, and single them out if she needed further clarification. It required a bit of a modification to hear them clearly, but it was a far better use of her mana. Because of the shelter¡¯s small size, she could also read their thoughts. One mind she recognized instantly.

    ¡°Finally!¡± an old, somewhat wheezy voice said. ¡°Took your sweet time. Any longer and I might have croaked.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t make jokes like that,¡± Lucas Macklemore sighed, his voice thick with exhaustion. Geneva was very glad he was in the room. Lou wanted to have words him about his assault on the estate. ¡°If you die, there¡¯ll be no hope of cleaning up this mess.¡±

    ¡°No need to suck up so hard,¡± her prey said. She heard the scrape of wood on a hard surface and easily imagined the man pulling out a chair. ¡°You¡¯ve already got a seat at the table.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Lucas sighed. ¡°The table of the group tasked with hiding a secret armory of the guilds. A secret armory that I have no idea why we didn¡¯t throw at the purple monster that just destroyed our city.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± the old, wheezy voice said. ¡°Eh, you¡¯ll get all the gory details soon enough.¡±

    ¡°Quick answer? We¡¯re just keeping an eye on this stuff. Doesn¡¯t actually belong to us.¡±

    ¡°What? Then who does it belong to?!¡±

    ¡°Oi!¡± The wheezy voice shouted, momentarily exuding strength. Then the speaker had a coughing fit and the voice returned to normal. ¡°You two little girls can gossip later. Right now, we¡¯ve got serious business. Rick, what¡¯s the situation?¡±

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    Her prey grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s not good. I cleared the way to the door, but the stairs are blocked. Looks like the walls collapsed. A good earth caster or three can get it cleared out quickly and quietly, but who knows if it¡¯s worth the effort?¡±

    The old voice scoffed. ¡°The Authority isn¡¯t made up of glass. It¡¯d take a lot more than stone to break that which has survived for hundreds of years.¡±

    ¡°Leaving aside whether or not it¡¯s been crushed, I think visibility is going to be the biggest problem,¡± Lucas muttered.

    ¡°Hah? I just said, we can get a few earthies to handle it quietly.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps it would be quiet if things were normal, but things are anything but. Since nothing is happening in the city, even the smallest things are going to grab attention. We have to assume that Lady Tome¡ª"

    ¡°Why are you calling her like that?¡± her prey growled. ¡°She¡¯s not a lady. She¡¯s a monster.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s best I don¡¯t get in the habit of antagonizing the monster by not calling her by her rightful address,¡± the interim guildmaster snapped. Geneva chuckled at his thoughts of Rick. He wasn¡¯t impressed, to put it mildly. She got a very clear impression of his reluctance to be involved with anything related to the Authority. The only thing that kept him seated was the old voice, something his mind related to the name Jacoby.

    Unlike his growing disdain for Rick, he had a deep respect for the older man. ¡°I agreed to this because I was told that it was important work. More important than the damn city and all the innocent people in it, apparently. That definitely makes it more important than your feelings so leave them out of it.¡±

    Her prey clicked his tongue but didn¡¯t retort.

    Lucas¡¯ voice lost most of its agitation as he continued. ¡°As I was saying, even small things are likely to draw attention. It¡¯s only smart to assume that Lady Tome and her allies are keeping an eye on the city. Do you remember the report we had prepared on her elementals? Succubi can suppress their need for sleep and can sense heightened emotion. If they¡¯re keeping watch, there¡¯s a good chance even a small, discreet operation will draw attention.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s got a point,¡± Jacoby said. ¡°He¡¯s here to make sure the rest of you don¡¯t trip over your own feet so make sure you listen.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Rick said defensively. ¡°And I¡¯m not saying he¡¯s wrong. Problem is, we can¡¯t afford to wait. We already lost the Anchor to the elf. It¡¯s just a matter of time before the mon¡ªLady Tome gets wind of the Authority. Do you really want those succubi on our tails? No, of course not. Which means we need to dig up all the storehouses and get the Authority out of the city, as quickly as possible.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re already doing as much,¡± Lucas continued. ¡°Five of the seven locations have already been covered.¡± Geneva felt a wave of dissatisfaction. She would have to move quickly, before they got too far. ¡°Both of the remaining locations are difficult to get to. We risk exposing ourselves if we go for them and risk what we already have.

    ¡°I suggest¡­that we leave the last two locations alone. The same obstacles that keep us from reaching the storehouses protect them from others. Besides that, no one knows of their existence. I think the best strategy would be to focus on shifting what parts of the Authority we already have and observing the situation with the city.¡±

    Neither of the other two men sounded happy about that idea. ¡°The Authority is always moved together,¡± Jacoby said with clear disapproval.

    ¡°Besides, it¡¯s cowardly.¡±

    ¡°Maybe but cowardly is exactly what we need. We can no longer afford to be bored. Wait, and risk a part of the Authority or go after it now and risk hunters. As a newcomer, I don¡¯t know enough to make the decision.¡±

    ¡°Ah, blessed asses!¡± Jacoby exclaimed after a moment of silence. ¡°Rick, leave the storehouses alone. Focuses on getting in contact with the scattered members of the guild.¡±

    ¡°Oi, you can¡¯t be seri¡ª"

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing more serious than saving lives. You heard me, but there¡¯s nothing more to do tonight. Good job, good night, we all have dates with some shitty beds.¡±

    Geneva slipped away from the shelter as the meeting broke up. She briefly considered investigating the unexpected consequences of her spell but decided against it. One corpse was an anomaly, not a problem. Digging up the guilds¡¯ treasure was a far more enticing prospect. She had her own earth caster that she could put on the job.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-147

    I expected something wild, and maybe a bit sexual, when Talia fetched me to come to bed in the early afternoon. Knowing my wife, it¡¯d be weird to expect anything else. But it was something else. Namely, cuddles.

    I think I¡¯ve been underestimating how much of an effect all of this is having on the family. First, Alana clings to me with the strength of a little girl clutching her favorite doll after a nightmare. Then Kierra summons everyone for¡­cuddles. She just wanted everyone in the same bed for ease of access, stroking and hugging us at her leisure. Kissing faces and shoulders while humming to herself. She lets us up to bathe and to have a meal but otherwise, it¡¯s the bed.

    At first, I find the whole thing annoying. Not the part where she isn¡¯t interested in sex, though that was strange, but the sitting still. It¡¯s only been a day since I destroyed a city. It feels like there¡¯s so much to do. So much I should be doing. Lying down with my lovers, doing absolutely nothing, feels¡­disrespectful. To the lives lost.

    Conversations don¡¯t last long before fading away. The four of us shift constantly in a never-ending struggle to find the most comfortable positions. Kierra has to crawl over us to reach her target. Everything about it is awkward or feels as much.

    But, as the hours slowly tick by, I stop picking at what¡¯s wrong with the situation and relax into it. I push aside my worries and join Kierra in her petting. Talia, being the good flower that she is, does her best to play her part. And with the three of us doing so much, Alana soon follows.

    It¡¯s¡­nice. Peaceful. I didn¡¯t know how much I needed peace. Before I know it, I fall asleep with my head on Alana¡¯s stomach, one of the many unusual positions we found ourselves in, and wake up feeling refreshed. As if a weight I didn¡¯t know I was carrying has been lifted. The morning feels hopeful, something I haven¡¯t felt in a while. For the past week, every morning has felt like a prelude to something worse, the tension slowly building until tragedy became inevitable. But, as soft rays of sunlight illuminate my slumbering lovers, I feel the opposite. As if we¡¯re on the way to leaving the madness of the March behind us.

    Not even Geneva standing at the footstep of my bed, the straightness of her back and her stillness suggesting she could have been there for hours, ruins my good mood. ¡°Morning, pet.¡±

    ¡°Good morning, my summoner. I have fetched.¡±

    -

    It¡¯s a little scary how capable Geneva is.

    When I sent her to sniff out the treasure of the guilds, I expected it to take at least a few days. Perhaps a few weeks. I mean, it¡¯s supposed to be a super-secret that they¡¯ve managed to keep hidden for generations. That kind of implies that they¡¯re good at hiding it. As capable as she is, Geneva is just one being. I fully expected her to outsmart but again, it should have at least taken days.

    Instead, she¡¯s gotten results in one night. Arrayed between breakfast are treasures of immense value. There is a sword made of the same dark metal as Kierra¡¯s looted dagger, a wooden stick with swirling engravings all around it, and a beast skull with a strange orb between its teeth.

    Then of course are the affinity stones. Mostly of the fire affinity but there are also a few water and earth stones mixed in. In comparison, the glass vials full of powders seem irrelevant but they were being kept with secret artifacts, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re valuable.

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    ¡°The guilds really do have a secret stash,¡± Alana mutters as she picks up one of the stones, admiring it with a scrutinizing gaze.

    ¡°I suppose they weren¡¯t just being arrogant when they fought the March,¡± Yulia muses while stopping Allen from reaching for a stone. ¡°Though is this worth so many lives?¡±

    ¡°According to the pet, this is only a fraction of their treasure.¡± Kierra grabs the sword and after stepping away from the table, swings it a few times. ¡°A well-made weapon. If it is also enchanted, very valuable indeed. One such storehouse may not be worth risking all of Quest, but seven equal if not larger stashes? I understand.¡±

    I hastily swallow a bite of sausage, not inclined to ignore my food like the others. ¡°I don¡¯t. If they have all these ancient, powerful weapons and the materials to create more, how come only one man with a dagger stepped forward to stop us?¡± That feels more like he took it without permission.

    ¡°There was something that was said that might explain it.¡± Geneva has looked very pleased with herself since returning. Saints, she looks smug all time. I guess she¡¯s extra smug. ¡°One of the hunters said that the treasure, the Authority as they call it, doesn¡¯t belong to them.¡±

    ¡°Then who in the Abyss does it belong to?¡±

    ¡°That will take more investigation. As well as finding the rest of the Authority. I¡¯m given to believe that they have already moved a significant amount of it out of the city.¡±

    Those pink eyes turn to me with expectation. Cheh. What does she expect me to do? Not tell her to go after the treasures? I wave a fork at her. ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°A moment before I continue my quest. There was something else I came across. Someone has died from the sickness.¡±

    I pause. ¡°The sickness that wasn¡¯t supposed to kill anyone?¡± I ask pointedly.

    ¡°I warned you in the beginning that the spell was not entirely under my control. Nature can never be fully contained.¡±

    She did warn me. ¡°What are we looking at?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m unsure. I discovered one dead but pursued my investigation rather than be distracted.¡±

    One dead? Really? She¡¯s worried about one person?

    ¡°A plague starts with one, my summoner.¡±

    ¡°In Dusk, sicknesses are not treated by healers.¡± Kierra returns the sword to the table. ¡°Things that can be caught, not deformities. They are seen as tests by the Great Spirit. Those that succumb are those who did not dedicate themselves fully to the quest for strength. Is it our place to intervene?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a test,¡± Alana says with a sigh. ¡°This is something we did. Whatever comes of it is our responsibility, to some extent. That doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re obligated to help and I don¡¯t think they need it. The Hall has the best casters in the kingdom, including healers.¡±

    ¡°A plague is serious business, Allie,¡± Yulia responds with a frown. ¡°It doesn¡¯t start out as a catastrophe. It becomes one because people ignore it before its too late. And this illness is magically enhanced. If it has the ability to kill people, then we need to make sure it doesn¡¯t spread.¡±

    I click my tongue. ¡°I¡¯m not helping them.¡±

    ¡°Lou.¡± The snow bunny looks at me with upturned eyes. ¡°I know they¡¯re enemies. They¡­hurt you. But you can¡¯t turn your back on them and the rest of¡ª"

    Her words are cut off by a squeak as I slam my fist on the table. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me what I can and can¡¯t do.¡±

    I force myself to calm down when I hear Allen make a sad whimpering noise. ¡°I don¡¯t owe those bastards anything. Like Kierra said, the Grand Hall has some of the best healers in the kingdom and its run by a hero who¡¯d be happy to help. But. If you want to poke around and make sure they¡¯re okay, then fine.¡± Sneaking another glance at Allen¡¯s watery eyes, I add, ¡°I¡¯ll tag along to make sure the hunters don¡¯t get any ideas. I wanted to ask the people running the camp a few questions anyway.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Yulia says in a much softer voice.

    I turn back to Geneva. ¡°Go on. And no taking Bell this time.¡± Someone has to watch the house. If the hunters try another raid, I doubt they¡¯ll be prepared for a virtue. ¡°I don¡¯t suspect you¡¯ll wrap this up in a night so try to check in so long as it doesn¡¯t interfere with your assignment.¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

    ¡°What are you all standing around for?¡± I ask once the succubus leaves. ¡°Food¡¯s getting cold and we¡¯ve got plans.¡±

    With strange looks between each other, they all find seats. Kierra grabs a chair and drags it right beside my own, once again ignoring the food in front of her, preferring to play with my hair. ¡°What?¡± I ask around a mouthful, confused by her self-satisfied smile. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± The elf chuckles. ¡°Nothing at all.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-148

    ¡°¡­this place is a dump,¡± I remark as I stand outside the camp created by the Hall. And it is. Craning my neck back and forth outside of the entrance, I see congestion. Too many people moving in too little space. Or not moving.

    There are plenty of bodies sitting, slouching, and lying outside their cramped shelters, doing nothing but making life harder for the robed acolytes trying to move through the camp. Angry and exhausted acolytes ushering the crowd and layabouts in an attempt to bring order, because so many people forced to live in tight confines can only lead to problems. Compounding the horrible sight are the heavy scents of fear and sickness.

    A true shithole.

    ¡°I think the guards are too busy to check us out or whatever they¡¯re supposed to be doing,¡± Alana says with distaste as she watches the two acolytes that were guarding the entrance of the camp try to fend off the attentions of a desperate woman while not letting her get too close. ¡°Where are the others? They clearly need more people.¡±

    ¡°They likely didn¡¯t predict these numbers,¡± Yulia comments with sad eyes while one hand picks at the sleeve of her opposite hand. Allen is at home being looked after by Earl and Anna, freeing her up to do¡­whatever she thinks she¡¯s going to accomplish sticking her nose into this. This little sickness might have deviated from Geneva¡¯s expectations a little, but I doubt she¡¯s messed up enough to cause a literal plague.

    Kierra is also not with us, opting to, in her words, languish in victory. She strongly objected to coming to the camp. As a well-known healer, she didn¡¯t want to deal with the hassle of the camp trying to enlist her services. Now that I¡¯m here, I¡¯m glad she did. I hope they¡¯d know better than to harass us if we¡¯re disinterested but desperate people aren¡¯t normally reasonable and things here look very desperate.

    ¡°You sure you want to go in?¡± I ask the snow bunny as the woman trying to talk with the acolytes rushes them and is brutally shoved to the ground. One of the young men looks like he¡¯s ready to strike her but he¡¯s grabbed by his partner. ¡°Seems a little rough.¡±

    Yulia doesn¡¯t look thrilled to dive into the trouble, swallowing heavily as she watches the woman reach for the hems of their robes and be kicked away by the more vicious of the pair. ¡°We need¡­um. I would like a report on the sick, at least to see if anymore have died and what has been done with the bodies.¡± She clears her throat self-consciously. ¡°If you will kindly assist me?¡±

    ¡°Already said I would.¡± I step in front of the James sisters, confidently crossing the boundary of the camp. The two acolytes near the gap in the stone shelters that serves as an entrance look up as we approach, the angry one with a sneer and his partner with exasperation. Both expressions are replaced with different variations of fear once they recognize me. I¡­don¡¯t know if I like that. No, I don¡¯t. But saints know it¡¯s better that they think twice in my presence than not think at all.

    In their moment of inattention, the woman grabs onto the surlier of the pair. I¡¯ve been ignoring her until now, but the proximity makes it impossible to let her desperate voice be drowned by the general commotion of the camp.

    ¡°Please!¡± she sobs. ¡°My daughter is sick. Very sick! It¡¯s not like what others have!¡±

    The more belligerent of the pair quickly finds his temper again. ¡°I¡¯ve already told you lady, you need to go the registering tent and make an appointment. The healers will see you then.¡±

    ¡°My daughter might not have that long!¡±

    ¡°You think you¡¯re the only person staring down death? This damn bug infected the whole saints damned city! Those who were already weak, those battling another sickness, the old, the very young. They¡¯re all facing death. And I¡¯ve told them the same thing I¡¯ve told you. If you care about your daughter, stop bothering people doing their jobs and go look after her.¡±

    She stumbles as he pushes her away again but remains on her feet. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be helping us!¡±

    Her passionate voice draws the attention of the nearby loungers. Heads peek out of the shelters as well, drawn by the emotional moment. The meeker of the acolytes cringes under the weight of the many gazes but his partner is only enraged further. His face is red and his teeth are grit as he glares at the source of the trouble.

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    ¡°Get out of here!¡± he snarls menacingly, pulling a short and stout wooden club from his belt, holding it in a white-knuckled grip. ¡°You insult us when we¡¯re down here, wading in your filth and disease? Giving up our time and risking our own health to help you idiots? Saints as my witness, I¡¯ll¡ª"

    ¡°Oi.¡± Not in the mood to watch a desperate woman be clubbed and in need of some direction, I interrupt. The acolytes jump. Did they forget I was here? ¡°I¡¯m looking for whoever¡¯s in charge.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lady!¡± the calmer one is quick to say. ¡°Alyssa Filagree is in charge. She has a tent set up at the eastern edge of the camp. I could show you the way, Lady Tome.¡± He¡¯s jostled by his partner but returns the scowl with a deadpan look. The aggressive acolyte backs down with a huff. He may not be happy to deal with the masses alone but apparently, he also recognizes that handling me is the priority.

    Someone else takes note of my importance. The woman changes targets, focusing on me as she takes two steps forward. ¡°Merciful lady, please help us! My daughter¡ª"

    ¡°Shut up.¡± She flinches at my hissed command eyes going wide. ¡°That one¡¯s right. You aren¡¯t the only one with problems. Some saints inspired fools go out of their way to help you and all you can do is whine about how they¡¯re not doing enough.¡±

    Is it because she still has hope? For the Tome family, hope was systematically stripped from us until we learned to accept our lots in this life. My father is¡­was¡­an anomaly, doing what he could to rail against the Grimoires in his own limited way.  For the rest of us, it was never even a thought.

    The woman hangs her head. ¡°There is nothing I can do. I¡¯m just a simple seamstress¡ª"

    ¡°Nothing you can do?¡± I scoff. ¡°You aren¡¯t sick, are you? You have two hands, two feet? Definitely have a voice. Look around.¡± I wave at the congested camp and our growing audience. ¡°What does this place need? Bodies. Helping hands. Don¡¯t tell me you can¡¯t do anything.

    ¡°Saints, you should have done something when this whole mess started and someone knocked on your door and told you to get the hell out of the city.¡± I scowl at her, despising her for the guilt she inspires in my chest. It¡¯s so easy to see myself in those like her. But I have to remember that¡¯s who I used to be. Someone I can¡¯t afford to be anymore.

    While the woman contemplates my accusations, I snap my fingers to get the attention of the acolytes. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my lady. If you¡¯ll just follow me.¡±

    The woman watches us pass with an intense stare and clenched fists. Her mouth opens but she¡¯s silenced by Alana¡¯s powerful glare. Seems my knight doesn¡¯t care much for the refugees attitude. Coming from the perspective of someone who worked herself to the bone, literally, to be where she is, I don¡¯t fault her for the emotion that borders disdain that she¡¯s displaying. She is of the firm opinion that those who want help should first help themselves.

    Yulia¡­averts her eyes and walks quickly.

    How Alana ever thought her sister was the more attractive of the two, I will never understand. If the snow bunny is anything beyond her pretty face and friendliness, I¡¯ve yet to see it. But she is family, adjacently, so I¡¯ll humor her.

    The rest of the camp is in a sorrier state than the entrance. It is literally filthy. My expression twists as I regret not bringing something to cover my nose. Again, guilt raises its head, but I bludgeon it with the knowledge that all these people wouldn¡¯t have thought twice about it if the guilds killed my family. They might have even rejoiced.

    I went far and above any moral duty by giving them warning. I gave them a chance. If this is what they chose to do with it, what they are content to be because the saints know they have the power to do something about it, then let them languish in squalor while we languish in victory.

    The congestion thins as we reach the border of the camp and the tents are much nicer. Here, there is movement and order, as the acolytes in the area hurry about. The smell of sickness is also strongest here. This must be where the healers are plying their trade. We draw attention here as well, but unlike the refugees, the acolytes don¡¯t look for long before getting on with their business. Whether that¡¯s because they are too busy or too scared, I don¡¯t know. Probably a mix of both.

    ¡°It¡¯s right here.¡± Our guide stops before a plain-looking tent that can only be distinguished from those around it by its slightly larger size. As expected of Miss Alyssa. She¡¯s not the type to flaunt her rank.

    ¡°Well?¡± I prod our guide when he remains outside the tent, shuffling his feet. ¡°Announce us.¡±

    ¡°Uh. It was a late night.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°¡­Boss is probably still asleep.¡±

    A soft laugh escapes me. I can¡¯t imagine what she¡¯s put these young men through that her reputation is enough to rival mine. Or perhaps it¡¯s because he was here instead of in Quest. He doesn¡¯t understand. But I¡¯m far more amused than offended. ¡°Alright, go on. I¡¯m sure you have work to do.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, my lady. Er, have a good day.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to look so excited,¡± Alana says with equal amounts of exasperation and amusement as I open the tent flaps. But I can¡¯t help it. This is a rare opportunity, after all.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-149

    There¡¯s the perception that people soften in their sleep, reveal their true selves, but that¡¯s an old wives¡¯ tale. There¡¯s some basis of truth to it, as it usually is with these things. Alana holds true to expectation, my stern hero becoming as soft as freshly baked bread while in the clutches of a comfortable bed.

    Kierra, however, is the opposite. A sleeping predator is less of a danger but there is nothing soft about it. Talia is another exception. Even in her dreams, she remains inscrutable, beautiful in the way a still pond is when the first rays of dawn makes its water sparkle but leaves its bottom shrouded in darkness. Mesmerizing but unfathomable.

    Alyssa is not an exception. Normally, she is straight-backed, fierce, and quick to ¡°bite¡±. She reminds me of the hounds trained to patrol and guard estates suddenly coming to attention with their ears pricked the moment they think there¡¯s prey to be hunted. A vicious bitch, heh, somewhat mellowed by age and peace.

    Sleep definitely softens her. Makes her sloppy too.

    Crouched beside her, I watch with interest as she snores in ignorant bliss of the three people in her tent. And she¡¯s really gone. The line of drool and the stain on her pillow are sure signs of a deep sleep. I¡¯m almost envious. When was the last time I slept so peacefully? Probably before I left the Hall to deal with this March nonsense.

    ¡­come to think of it, that¡¯s the last time we really cut loose. Maybe not a coincidence.

    ¡°Kind of impressive,¡± I whisper, poking the redhead¡¯s cheek. Her face scrunches up in annoyance but she doesn¡¯t wake. I poke her again and she lets out a dissatisfied grumble. Saints, it¡¯s cute. All of it is, the whole limbs thrown out every which way, messy hair, and tattered night clothes. Even the little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes made more prominent by her scowl as I continue poking her. ¡°She doesn¡¯t let any of this get to her, huh?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a soldier. She keeps marching,¡± Alana says from her place by the tent flaps. Yulia, a bit more curious than her sister, has stepped inside and is poking around. ¡°A soldier can¡¯t function without sleep, so they sleep. Even in the middle of enemy territory while surrounded by the corpses of their comrades.¡±

    ¡°When you put it like that.¡± I poke her cheek again and she clumsily smacks it away, grumbling something unintelligible.

    ¡°Are you going to mess with her all day?¡±

    ¡°If only I could.¡± With a sigh, I stand from my crouch and take a large step back. Then I shout, ¡°Good morning!¡±

    Yulia jumps. Miss Alyssa snorts and sits up with glowing eyes and fire in one hand. I¡¯m unfazed by the display, just glad she has the presence of mind not to go throwing the magic around. And with each moment, that presence grows stronger, reason asserting itself as she blinks away sleep. Her eyes bounce between the three of us before she curses and dismisses her spell. ¡°The hell are you doing in my tent, Lou?¡±

    ¡°You only have yourself to blame. Your lackey was too scared to wake the sleeping bear.¡±

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    ¡°Bear?¡±

    ¡°Your snores sound like a large animal warning away other predators.¡±

    ¡°Ah, fuck you.¡±

    ¡°Is that an invitation, Red Bear?¡±

    ¡°I will hurt you.¡±

    ¡°Good luck.¡±

    I smile as she glares up at me. Saints, I really do have a type, huh? ¡°I would really need the saints¡¯ blessing, wouldn¡¯t I? O¡ª¡± Her words are interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. ¡°Or maybe for the earth to open up and drop you straight into the Abyss. You and whatever titan bastard you summoned to wreck the city.¡±

    The redhead turns her back to us as she walks over to a large basket in the corner. She grabs a red robe from it and brings it to her nose for a sniff. Then proves she is very confident of completely without modesty as she throws off her shirt and shorts to shrug it on. ¡°This better not be a social call because I¡¯m still pissed about the whole destroying my home thing and will probably stay pissed for a long time.¡±

    ¡°It has nothing to do with you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? I beg to differ when I¡¯m the one cleaning up the shit, literally.¡±

    ¡°You can always quit.¡±

    ¡°Things are probably different in the capital but in the north, you don¡¯t just throw away your responsibilities,¡± she snarls. ¡°Because if one person can do it, then everyone can and nothing ever gets done.¡±

    Point to her. But. ¡°There¡¯s always another hero waiting in the wings to pick up the slack. Otherwise, we wouldn¡¯t have so many saints.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. You¡¯ve gotten mean, Lou.¡±

    ¡°Fate didn¡¯t give me much choice.¡± More like the guilds. ¡°But I¡¯m not here to talk about employment opportunities. Or to drop in for a drink, though we should do that soon¡ª"

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Yulia over there, I¡¯m sure you know her.¡±

    Alyssa¡¯s gaze flicks over to Yulia who smiles at her. The redhead ignores the gesture and digs in her basket, grabbing a comb and proceeding to tame her bed hair. ¡°Yeah, I can recognize the James girls.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then you probably also know Yulia¡¯s a bleeding heart. She¡¯s worried about all the hapless souls of the camp. Particularly, this sickness.¡±

    She lets out a bark of a laugh. ¡°Yeah? You care about these people?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± That¡¯s a lie but the more I live it, the closer it gets to the truth. I hope. ¡°But I also don¡¯t want them to die in droves. If I did, I wouldn¡¯t have warned them. You wouldn¡¯t be here because Kierra wouldn¡¯t have gone to Dunwayne to save them from themselves.¡±

    Some of the tension in her shoulders relaxes. ¡°¡­she going to help?¡±

    ¡°No and you probably don¡¯t want to hear why. Come on, Red Bear. We¡¯re offering to take a concern off your hands.¡±

    ¡°The healers have been on my ass about getting extra help¡­fine. You all can go poking around. Suppose if you get sick, the elf will fix you up. Just, don¡¯t destroy my camp. Don¡¯t destroy anything.¡± She tosses the comb back into the basket. ¡°And do me a favor? If whatever this thing you have for me is real?¡±

    ¡°Are you questioning my affection?¡± I ask dryly, doing my best to channel my flower¡¯s drab tone that always makes it confusing to tell when she¡¯s being sarcastic.

    Unfortunately, it also fails to get a reaction. Funny. I remember her being a lot more explosive. Suppose she¡¯s getting used to me. Or maybe she¡¯s got good reason to watch her actions around me now. Ah, that kind of ruins the fun. Part of Miss Alyssa¡¯s charm was never knowing what she¡¯d do next.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make my life harder. This shitshow is hard enough and it¡¯s only going to get harder. I¡¯m stressed and I¡¯m not the one who is sharing four dark walls with half a dozen strangers, not knowing what the future holds. People are on edge. They¡¯re scared and angry. People like that are just looking for an excuse to snap and aren¡¯t thinking about the consequences. So please, for all the blessed tits in Paradise, don¡¯t break the neck of the first person who mouths off at you. Or the dumbass that throws a rock at your head.¡±

    ¡°If somebody throws a rock at us, I¡¯m picking it up and throwing it back,¡± Alana says and her tone leaves no room for argument.

    I chuckle. ¡°I won¡¯t start anything. I never do.¡± I finish things.

    ¡°Guess that¡¯s the best I¡¯ll get. Come on. I¡¯ll drop you three off by the tents. If you need me, find me. Let me handle the trouble, alright? Saints know I don¡¯t get paid enough but it¡¯s my job anyway.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-150

    ¡°You!¡±

    We don¡¯t take three steps into what Miss Alyssa calls the field hospital, which is the biggest tent in the camp by far, before someone accosts us. A harried looking man who looks like he doesn¡¯t eat or sleep enough, given his twig-thin limbs and deep bags under his eyes, wearing a dirty green robe.

    He ignores us, going straight for Alyssa and getting uncomfortably close judging from her grimace. ¡°Why are your hands empty? I¡¯ve told you, we need supplies! How do you expect me to care for so many patients? Have them drink salt water to purge themselves and rub muck in their wounds like the savages of the clans? And the beds! How is anyone supposed to rest and recuperate when they sleep on cots harder than stone? No, impossible. I cannot work in these conditions!¡±

    ¡°Ladies, this damn dramatic is Healer Pavo Rusk, of the Rusk family. A family of healers that have been with the Hall since its founding, which makes Rusk here an entitled little princess that is working on my last nerve!¡±

    To his credit, the man isn¡¯t fazed by her bluster, standing his ground and looking ready to launch in another rant at any moment. ¡°He¡¯s a pain in the ass like you wouldn¡¯t believe but I let him get away with it because he¡¯s a damn fine healer and he has saved more lives than I¡¯ve killed beasts. So, despite his rudeness, I¡¯m going to swallow my urge to smack him, reassure him that I¡¯m fucking working on it, and introduce you. Rusk, this is Lourianne Tome, Alana James, and Yulianna James.¡±

    ¡°You can call me Yulia,¡± the snow bunny says with a charming smile.

    The healer looks at her blindingly bright smile¡­and scoffs. Amazing. Didn¡¯t expect I¡¯d meet a warm-blooded being immune to the woman¡¯s charms, not without time to acclimatize. ¡°The ones responsible for all the work I have to do.¡±

    ¡°Something you want to say?¡± I ask, taking a step forward.

    ¡°Hmph. I don¡¯t get involved in the whys and hows of fighting. I simply heal the aftermath.¡±

    ¡°Even if it means they just fight again?¡±

    ¡°They may and if they do, I will heal them again. Until they get tired of fighting. Now, what are you doing here? It better not be for some inane noble whim, like a tour. I¡¯m far too busy to deal with that nonsense.¡±

    Yulia clears her throat. ¡°We wanted to check on the sick. We heard that someone died.¡±

    The healer¡¯s gaze snaps to her. ¡°Where did you hear that?¡±

    ¡°Around,¡± I interject, stepping in front of her and forcing his attention to me. ¡°Look, just answer a few questions.¡±

    He scowls. ¡°Fine, on the condition that you keep quiet about it. The last thing this camp needs is panic.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any reason to talk and don¡¯t see that changing anytime soon. So long as that doesn¡¯t change, I¡¯ll keep quiet.¡±

    ¡°No. I need a guarantee.¡±

    ¡°Blessed asses, Rusk.¡± Alyssa sighs. ¡°You do realize that if she wants to beat the information out of you, no one here can do anything to stop her?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid.¡±

    ¡°You do realize that she sleeps with Talia, right? The mental caster that has the training to rip it out of your head if you prove uncooperative?¡±

    He falters. ¡°That¡¯s illegal.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah? And destroying a city isn¡¯t?¡± Alyssa runs a frustrated hand through her hair. ¡°Fucking ancestors. Rusk, this is not the time for your shit. Just answer their damn questions.¡±

    ¡°¡­fine.¡±

    I step to the side, once more letting Yulia face the healer, nodding to her. Why can¡¯t more people be as reasonable as Miss Alyssa? Is she happy with me? No. Does she even like me? I very much doubt it. But she¡¯s not letting that cloud her reason or prevent her from doing the smart thing, which is getting me what I want.

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    Thank the saints she left Victory. It would have been an unsightly waste if someone of her caliber were to die a pointless death in a titan¡¯s gut.

    The snow bunny starts with the obvious question. ¡°How many have died?¡±

    ¡°From the first illness? None.¡±

    Did he just say the first? As in, more than one?

    ¡°It is virulent and its symptoms quite severe, but it¡¯s ultimately harmless. A few days of rest and proper hydration is all that is needed. The problem is the second illness. My best guess is that the first illness infected someone with some variant of fever and mutated. Thank the saints this second illness is not as contagious as the first but its symptoms are just as sudden, just as powerful, and worst of all, fatal. Patients can die in as little as thirty-six hours. None have made it to seventy-two. The second illness has claimed four lives.¡±

    Four. More than one but still. It¡¯s just four. More children die of a harsh winter in even remote villages every year. More people die in the capital from uncontrolled carriages. I¡¯d be willing to bet more people die choking on bones during a meal.

    Despite that, Yulia looks positively distressed. I suppose she has decent cause. It may just be four but it¡¯s four times the number of casualties than we expected. ¡°Are any more showing signs of sickness?¡±

    ¡°There are three more that show signs of the second illness. They have been separated from the other patients. Unfortunately, it will require mana we can¡¯t afford to waste to attempt curing it, so we are caring for them with medicine. Their only hope is to fight if off themselves.¡±

    ¡°And¡­what measures have you taken to stop on the plague?¡±

    ¡°You¡ª" The healer has to stop himself from screaming, I can tell. ¡°You cannot carelessly throw around words like plague. That word can ruin lives, ruin cities,¡± he hisses. ¡°And of course we¡¯ve done what we can to contain it. The bodies and their possessions have been burned, the people they had contact with isolated, and the area cleansed. We know what we¡¯re doing so if you¡¯re here to give us advice, please spare us both the indignity.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­¡± Yulia pauses. I swear I can hear her mind turning over and over. Trying to find the right path to winning him over. ¡°We came to make sure that unimaginable damage isn¡¯t done to this kingdom. Not to question the work and dedication of the Hall¡¯s healers or yourself.¡±

    She really does have a gift. The irritable Mr. Rusk softens around the edges, a hand absently scratching at his thick and unkempt beard. ¡°Well, I can understand that. If you want to be of help, as I keep telling our illustrious Watch captain here¡ª"

    Alyssa grumbles.

    ¡°¡ªwe need supplies. I do understand why there would be delays, a whole city needs to be healed after all. But it¡¯s not just about medicine and bandages. Healing requires a proper diet. We need more clean water. A few bottles of decent drink for my apprentices after a long day on their feet to keep them going. More hands. I¡¯ll take anything and everything that can be spared.¡± The healer tiredly wiped at his eyes. ¡°The Hall decided to help these people. They asked me to help these people. I¡¯d see it done right.¡±

    ¡°I know, you sorry bastard,¡± Alyssa grumbles. ¡°Well? That all your questions?¡±

    ¡°A moment please.¡± Yulia lays a hand on my shoulder and silently guides me to step away, far enough that the others cannot hear our lowered voices. ¡°Lou, I think we¡ªI can accomplish a lot here. I would ask for your help accruing some supplies and allowing me to distribute them to the camp. Personally.¡±

    This troublesome bunny. ¡°You are asking for a lot of crowns and a lot of time.¡± It¡¯s going to take a lot of gold to put the camp right. And then it¡¯s going to take a lot of time and mana to keep her safe inside of a camp full of people with good and bad reasons to hate her.

    ¡°I know. But we can make a difference here. And if we can make a difference here, I¡¯m one step closer to making a difference back home.¡± She steps closer, looking up at me with big, pleading eyes. ¡°Please, Lou. I know the guilds¡­sinned against you. I won¡¯t argue they deserved to pay. I won¡¯t say that the people suffering here are innocent either. But how long will you punish them? If we do nothing, these people will have to endure this for weeks, maybe months. They may never recover. It is one thing to be strong and feared. It is another to be a force of destruction. Do you want to be the end of this kingdom, Lou? I can¡¯t believe you do.¡±

    I can¡¯t believe she¡¯s standing here trying to manipulate me. I can¡¯t take this any other way. Where does she get off, telling me what lines I can¡¯t cross and when I need to make amends?

    ¡°¡­you can have whatever we scavenge from the city and I¡¯ll have Bell watch you when you want to come to the camp. And you come to the camp only when she¡¯s available to watch you.¡±

    ¡°Thank¡ª"

    ¡°And you need Miss Alyssa¡¯s cooperation. She is in charge of running this camp. If she thinks your presence will bring more harm than good, then you will accept that judgment.¡±

    She smiles. ¡°Of course. Thank you, Lou. You won¡¯t regret this.¡±

    Of course I won¡¯t. What do I care if she wants to play saint? I¡¯m humoring her because of Alana. She asked me to let her sister prance around and cater to the masses. Well, there is an eager audience outside this tent awaiting her performance. If it¡¯ll keep her out of my hair and foster some goodwill between the sisters, and I suppose also between the north and south, all the better.

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-151-Alana

    Under the watchful gaze of a full moon, Alana swung her sword. She was drenched in sweat, her clothes clinging to her hot skin. After they returned from the camp, which Yulia had made a nuisance of herself in for hours, shadowing Alyssa and asking her dozens of questions, she¡¯d grabbed her sword and stepped outside to train. Endless repetitions of the same simple swings until her heart hammered in her chest and her arms ached. Still, she kept going.

    It wasn¡¯t that she was fond of exercise. There was a time in her life when she hated it. Hated that she had to work for something her siblings had been born into.

    She also didn¡¯t have a talent for it. Witnessing Lancecain duel knights twice his age and come out the victor, so long as the contest remained that of pure swordsmanship, had disabused her of any illusions about that.

    But after so many years, so many tiring days and nights collapsing from exhaustion, effort was a part of her. The ache of her muscles centered her in same way a hot cup of tea or a loved one¡¯s embrace did for others. It helped her think. Helped her suppress her emotions when they started to get beyond her control, so she could work through them. And there was a lot to work through.

    To her surprise, the devastation the city was the easiest for her to accept. While the scene of the ruined Quest inspired mixed feelings, she searched her heart and found no negative emotions toward Lou.

    Her lover tried to be compassionate and failed, her mercy crushed under the weight of the guilds¡¯ reckless arrogance. Alana didn¡¯t fault her for that. Compassion was a pretty thing but she didn¡¯t view it as a virtue. Besides, Lou wasn¡¯t a kind person. She admired the attempt, but she¡¯d doubted it from the beginning. What she expected, no, demanded, if not verbally than with her presence, was that Lou remain honorable.

    For all her faults, and there were plenty of those, though Alana had come around to seeing them more as quirks and was even attracted to a couple, Lou was a very honorable person. She was loyal to those who were loyal to her. She treated her friends well and her enemies fairly. She wielded her power with discretion if not the greatest judgment. All virtues few others could live up to.

    Victory was as close as Alana had seen to an honorable society, but it was built on a foundation of zealotry. Lou, on the other hand, had no one to teach her honor. Her empathy, as much as she tried to deny it, had guided her to it.

    Truly, it was what Alana respected most about Lou, besides the woman¡¯s brazen confidence in the parts of her nature that would make other people shy away in embarrassment. Lou was a good person. The woman herself didn¡¯t believe it. She thought she was a monster. Alana knew better but she was concerned it could become true.

    Lou was changing. The business with the guilds had hardened her. Muted her insufferable personality and raging passion. The noblewoman was almost grim and it was unsettling to see.

    Change wasn¡¯t a bad thing. Alana wasn¡¯t happy to see Lou sad, that was infuriating, but she also believed that there could be some good to come from it. She¡¯d always feared that Lou¡¯s empathy would get her in trouble. Especially with the wrong woman. This mess had forced her to¡­Alana hesitated to think mature. Evolve. Or rather, reach an equilibrium. A little grimness to balance out too much passion.

    Though it was only good so long as the equilibrium lasted. Alana didn¡¯t want Lou to be consumed by the guilt she pretended she didn¡¯t feel or the burden she realized she carried as someone with the power to exterminate life on a large scale. They needed to restore Lou¡¯s passion.

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    Something she wasn¡¯t sure how to do.

    She¡¯d hoped Yulia¡¯s little stunt would do the trick. Lou enjoyed helping the unfortunate. As she¡¯d learned during their argument in the north, their first real fight, she saw it as helping herself. It made her feel better about herself and the world. Normally, she would have leaped at the camp. Not with real commitment, that was asking too much for strangers whose names she¡¯d never know, but with reckless spending. The fact she¡¯d barely seemed interested, even knowing that Geneva¡¯s spell had gone awry¡­didn¡¯t bode well.

    They¡¯d have to take drastic action.

    If only she knew what that action should be. Several hours of cutting the air and she still didn¡¯t have a clue and it was getting harder to contain her frustration at her uselessness.

    And that was the real reason why she was sweating buckets instead of eating a delicious dinner and climbing into a warm bed. Her uselessness. She knew becoming strong enough that Lou relied on her rather than protected her would be hard, verging on the impossible. She knew it would take time, more time than she could rightly fathom. Knowing it didn¡¯t make it any easier to wait.

    ¡°Surely you do not plan to sweat alone, star.¡±

    Alana paused mid-swing and sighed heavily. She hadn¡¯t heard the elf¡¯s approach. ¡°I¡¯m too tired for your training too,¡± she groused as Kierra stepped in front of her, smiling softly. That was one person she wasn¡¯t worried about. She¡¯d been concerned while Talia was gone, fearing what the violent woman would do to take revenge if her flower was harmed, but with the taken women returned, the elf had returned to her normal genial self.

    ¡°I could fix that.¡±

    ¡°Mentally, you beast.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Why is it that both of you keep taking insults as compliments?¡±

    Kierra chuckled. ¡°Because we know you mean them as such. If you did not like it, you would not share our bed, hm?¡±

    Alana flushed. ¡°So? What are you doing out here?¡±

    ¡°Looking for you. What has you out here? You do not normally prefer the night to a good meal.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve clearing my head. Thinking.¡±

    ¡°About?¡±

    ¡°Stupid things.¡±

    ¡°They are not stupid if they trouble you. Tell me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to let this drop, are you?¡±

    ¡°No. The more hesitant you are, the more curious I become.¡±

    ¡°¡­fine.¡±

    Alana resumed her swinging while the elf stood in a relaxed posture, blurting out her worries. About Lou. About herself. About her inability to fix either. Kierra listened attentively. Alana hated how good of a listener the woman was. Lou was a good ear, but she couldn¡¯t help interjecting, sometimes with something impactful, sometimes with something inane. The little breaks and shortcuts allowed her to catch her breath, keep her balance.

    Kierra didn¡¯t interrupt. She didn¡¯t say a word, simply stared at her target. The silence created a pressure that squeezed the thoughts out of her mind and before she knew it, Alana was saying everything, even things she didn¡¯t plan on saying.

    There was a good side. Whenever she finished talking to Kierra, she always felt unburdened. It was more effective than hours of mindless exercise, something she proved as she stopped her practice midway through her rant, sheathing her sword and leaning against it.

    The elf hummed as Alana finished rambling. ¡°You bring up a good point.¡±

    ¡°What? About our role in Quest¡¯s future? The camp? Yulia? Our lacking strength?¡±

    ¡°Lou¡¯s waning passion. This cannot stand.¡±

    ¡°Or that. I guess you have a plan?¡±

    ¡°Mm, yes. I know just what to do.¡±

    Alana fought not to blush as the elf stepped forward to brush her fingertips over her cheek. Unfortunately, embarrassment wasn¡¯t a muscle that could be trained. She didn¡¯t know why simple things like the gesture continued to fluster her. After all she¡¯d done¡­all she¡¯d let be done to her. Just thinking about made her face heat up more, defeating the purpose.

    ¡°You are right. A conqueror is not a tyrant. We must not let our Lou slide into the darkness. But to stop it will require great work. Great¡­sacrifice. From you. Can you do that?¡±

    ¡°¡­what do you have in mind?¡±

    The elf smiled what Lou had deemed her bloodthirsty smile and Alana fought the urge to run. ¡°Something I am sure you will enjoy¡­eventually.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-152

    So, that¡¯s it.

    The March is as good as done. As soon as Geneva finishes tracking down the last of this Authority, we will divvy up the treasure and send Victory¡¯s due north. That¡¯s bound to be interesting. I don¡¯t know what the duke expected when he sent Alana, and by extension me, to collect the debt but I doubt it was the decimation of Quest. Which no one is going to believe, of course.

    There is a very real possibility that the king will lay all of this at the feet of the James family. If he was annoyed by the independence of Quest, he must be livid about the fanatics in the fort who preach about the second royal family and the king of the north.

    Either way, this is just the beginning. But for the moment, a break in the violence and ever-expanding repercussions for every decision. A moment of peace in between the bouts of chaos. And I choose to spend it reading.

    I¡¯m not fond of most literature. Particularly, fiction. Oh, listening to a good story over a drink is a great pastime, but that is completely different from curling up in a musty library reading some idiot¡¯s wild imaginations.

    I¡¯ve done just that with summoning records but that¡¯s different. Records are real. Each word is someone¡¯s real experience, each little detail is important. Power lurks within the tomes my family considers its greatest treasures. They give something back.

    That¡¯s how I managed to psyche myself up to dive into the Teppin¡¯s accounts, both regarding the estate and the city. They are dull but there is something within them. This started with us snatching the hunters¡¯ fortune but, since there are no obstacles in the way, I might as well take the rest the city has to offer. If I don¡¯t, opportunistic souls will do so anyway. I¡¯d rather take it than leave it to the human crows waiting to swoop in and feed on the city¡¯s carcass.

    Hence, the reading. There was a modest stash of a few dozen gold in the lord¡¯s study but that has to be an emergency fund. His fortune is somewhere else and while the succubi are busy, Geneva with sniffing out more treasure and Bell with keeping an eye on things, the estate and to a lesser extent the city, I¡¯ve taken on the issue myself.

    During my childhood, I took far too much pleasure in avoiding my tutors, but no matter how much I tried to ignore them, the dedicated professionals forced some knowledge into my rebellious mind, motivated by my father¡¯s crowns. I¡¯m no academic, far from it. Yet, my initiate year has strengthened my faulty foundation, making me more inclined to studying. I at least have the ability to shift through the account books with some degree of competency.

    Seems Lord Teppin is a man who believes in investing, both in businesses and people. He utilizes the city guard to collect biannual taxes and takes a hefty forty percent into his own pockets. To his meagre credit, the rest is genuinely used to finance the city, including public works that keep most of the non-hunters in the city employed. The guards are also well-financed, which means their incompetency is purely their own problem.

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    The nobleman should be swimming in gold. And technically, he is. He¡¯s just not the type keep his gold packed away in a room with half a dozen locks so he can sip whine while he stares at the shiny coins. Instead, he turned his wealth into things. Buildings. Weapons. Art. Land. Whatever he got was quickly reinvested, most of it in Quest. Which means my little rampage destroyed a good portion of the wealth I¡¯m seeking out. Oops.

    A knocking interrupts me as I find papers related to assets out of the city. ¡°Come in,¡± I call, breathing in deeply instead of raising my head. Flowers, a faint musk, and a fainter hint of blood. I¡¯m not surprised to feel the toned arms of my elf wrapping around my neck. ¡°Getting bored?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Mm,¡± she purrs into my hair. ¡°I should have joined the pet on her hunt.¡±

    ¡°Would have been just as bad, right? She does a lot of sitting and watching.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but there is a thrill to lurking beyond your prey¡¯s ability to detect you. To be an unwelcome observer to their secrets. To intrude on their homes where they think they are safest. Ask our star.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you can catch up to her.¡±

    ¡°I thought of it but there is something much better for us to do.¡± Her fingers catch my own as I reach for the next paper. ¡°All of us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a little busy, my love,¡± I say, chuckling in amusement as we engage in a simple contest, my arm straining to move while she forces it to stay put. Neither of us put much effort into it, that I can tell because I don¡¯t see the telling glow of her magic, but there isn¡¯t meant to be a winner. It¡¯s just about being able to compete like this. We knew this day would come but I know neither of us thought it would come this soon. I revel in it and I¡¯m sure my lovely barbarian does too.

    She gains the upper hand when her teeth scrape my neck, drawing a yelp from me and using the moment of weakness to pull my hand against my side. Her chuckles make me smile reflexively. ¡°Cheat.¡±

    ¡°There is no cheating in war.¡±

    ¡°War? I thought we were playing.¡±

    ¡°Love is war.¡± Her hand tugs and I relent, climbing to my feet and letting her lead me through the house. As we near the lord¡¯s bedroom, the usual lighting is replaced by short candles with tiny orange flames at their tips. A poor choice for most eyes but I would have no problem navigating the gloom even without Kierra¡¯s prodding and the warm glow they give off is quite soothing.

    Her green hand reaches past me to push open the bedroom door. And waiting inside was a sight that made my heart pound.

    A dozen small candles sit upon the dresser and the side table, bathing the room in that appealing orange glow that¡¯s reflected by the white sheets that someone put on the bed. Sprinkled liberally over them are flower petals in every shade of scarlet ranging from the color of blood to a vibrant pink I¡¯ve only seen in the Myriad Zone. They cover most of the bed and spill over the end, forming a path to the door and filling the room with sweet air.

    Seated on the left side of the bed is Talia, dressed in what has to be Kierra¡¯s creation. More of that sheer fabric she likes, dyed a soft blue. Her front is bathed in candlelight but turning her head puts it in shadow. The white of her inversed eyes is especially prominent in the gloom.

    On the opposite side of the bed, Alana stands with her arms crossed, dressed in tight-fitting pants and a loose white shirt. Her hair, normally left to its own devices, is tied back, her features more severe without the blonde locks to soften them. And is her face painted? Her glare needs no help being fierce but the black around her eyes gives it extra power. Her painted lips bring aback memories of the ladies that crept into my childhood home when Father thought I was sleeping and a strange excitement rises in me.

    ¡°Victories must be celebrated,¡± Kierra purrs in my ear.

    How could I forget?

    My eager step into the room is halted by my elf holding me back.

    ¡°There is a special rule for tonight.¡± She turns me around to face her and pokes my forehead. ¡°No prime form.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-153

    ¡°You¡­want me to change?¡±

    I don¡¯t think my confusion is out of place. I know very well that my lovers, well, love my body. Which is precisely the point of it. I crafted my form to be irresistible. But it seems it¡¯s being resisted. I have no idea what she¡¯s thinking. Wait! Don¡¯t tell me this crazy elf is falling back on bad habits?

    A poke to my forehead interrupts me. ¡°Whatever you are thinking is wrong. Your first form, Lou.¡±

    My first? My ooze isn¡¯t a form, it¡¯s my base state. That would mean¡­ ¡°You want me to¡­transform into my original body?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± Why the heck would she be interested in that?

    The pointing finger moves to raise my chin. ¡°Do you trust us?¡±

    What kind of question is that? ¡°Of course I trust you.¡±

    She looks at me with an expectant gaze. I look over my shoulder to Talia and Alana. The flower¡¯s stare is unreadable and my knight avoids meeting my gaze. Something has her blushing something fierce, which doesn¡¯t help my nerves. But the decision was already made when Kierra made it a matter of trust.

    With a thought, I¡¯m myself, but the me before Cosmo laid his divine influence on me. It¡¯s¡­uncomfortable. Amazingly so. I feel weak. Saints, how did I ever survive being so fragile?

    Kierra, on the other hand, looks thrilled. Her bloodthirsty smile curls her lips as she leers at me with hungry eyes. ¡°This brings back fond memories, does it not? Of how we celebrated our union. We spent many nights turning my prison into our nest.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, good times, but whaaaah.¡± My words are cut off by her hand unapologetically pushing between my legs. The moan transforms into a yelp of surprise as she suddenly lifts me and throws me toward the bed. Damn. Forgot how much stronger than me she was before my prime form.

    The elf leaps onto the bed right after me, crawling over me. ¡°Mm. I love your strength but this is also nice.¡±

    Of course this green beast is happy she can toss me around and pounce on me. Not that I¡¯m complaining. My arms are open as she presses herself against me and claims my mouth. My hands instinctively come up, but they¡¯re grabbed before they can get far. I look past Kierra to find Alana¡¯s sterner than usual eyes looking down on me. They are filled with disbelief and something a bit worrying. She takes my wrists and effortlessly raises them above my head. Then she traps them with one hand.

    ¡°Saints. You really were weak.¡±

    I want to retort that of course I¡¯m weaker than her, with her dedicated training aided by Kierra¡¯s magic, but that¡¯s impossible with my tongue being monopolized. It¡¯s almost embarrassing how quickly I give in. All it would take is a thought to have my former strength back, but Kierra¡¯s enthusiasm and Alana¡¯s wonder persuade me not to.

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    ¡°I could¡­¡±

    I yelp again as I¡¯m dragged out from underneath Kierra, to the very top of the bed by a smirking blonde. ¡°Having¡­fun?¡± I pant while trying to catch my breath. It¡¯s the simple things about my prime form that I take for granted. Like my lungs that can draw in enough air that having my airways blocked for several minutes isn¡¯t even noticeable, let alone bothersome.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure about this when Kierra explained what she wanted to do¡ª"

    Probably because she likes being on the bottom even more than I do.

    ¡°¡ªbut I¡¯ve got to admit.¡± Her smile widens, showing only a hint of teeth. It¡¯s an evil expression. ¡°This is fun.¡±

    ¡°Glad you¡¯re¡ªeep!¡±

    An undignified sound escapes me as I¡¯m lifted from the bed with startling ease. My legs instinctively wrap around Alana¡¯s waist, searching for something stable as the room spins. I gasp as my back is pressed against the wall. Then Alana¡¯s eyes are far too close.

    ¡°You okay?¡± she whispers, the smoky-eyed villain stepping back and making space for my sweet girl. Knew she wasn¡¯t too far away.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. I¡¯m really suffering.¡± My sarcasm is so thick, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised to hear it falling to the ground. ¡°This is a little¡­different.¡± I squirm against her. ¡°I guess I¡¯m a little surprised. I thought you liked, well, me being strong.¡± And beautiful. I¡¯m not unattractive as I am but my prime form is gorgeous. I¡¯m not surprised by her being attracted to me, but to choose my original face over my objectively better one? A bit baffling.

    She makes a thoughtful noise. ¡°I¡­well.¡± I muffle a moan as she presses against me. Her eyes look away from me for the first time as she lowers her voice to a mumble my human ears can barely hear. ¡°We¡­I was worried about you. You haven¡¯t been yourself since¡­in a while. For good reason. It has been a hard time for everyone, but for none more than you. We could see that you were burdened. But you don¡¯t need to carry it around us.¡±

    She raises her head, her harsh mien somewhat ruined by the growing flush in her cheeks. ¡°Things aren¡¯t going to slow down out there. We¡¯re going to be forced into more conflicts, face more harsh decisions. We need you to do those things. Maybe a whole lot more, if we¡¯re going to face dragons one day. But we wanted you to know that it doesn¡¯t have to be like that all the time. There are times when you don¡¯t have to be the strong one. When you need a break, or when you want someone else to take the reins, we have¡­this.¡±

    I can¡¯t help it. I laugh. Not even the narrowing of her eyes stops the humor. ¡°Not the reaction I was hoping for.¡±

    I smother my laughter until I can talk through the snickers. ¡°You. Take charge.¡± That¡¯s all I can get out before the laughter takes over.

    I know what I¡¯m doing. Alana isn¡¯t arrogant by any measure, but she can¡¯t stand being looked down on. My words are said with love and good intentions, but the sight of her sneer is predictable. So is her aggressive kiss.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± she growls a hand grabbing the belt of my pants. I gasp as instead of pulling them down, she just rips the fabric, exposing my front. Her opposite arm wraps around my stomach as she wastes no time curling two fingers into me.

    I arch into her, legs doing their best to constrict her as my nails dig into her shoulders. A whine slips out of me as she adds a third finger, my belly clenching with the beginnings of a climax. Blessed tits. We¡¯ve done this dozens of times, but what felt almost gentle in my prime form is far rougher, her fingers practically battering the sensitive places inside me. My prime form is meant to be susceptible to pleasure but I won¡¯t last long like this either.

    ¡°Not laughing now, are you?¡± Alana bites out with unmistakable smugness.

    ¡°So¡­petty,¡± I pant out between moans.

    ¡°Like you¡¯re the one to¡ª" I cut her off with a loud, shuddering moan. ¡°¡ªtalk.¡±

    I don¡¯t have the strength to respond. No prime form means I actually get tired between orgasms. Something Alana might have forgotten. Her pumping hands slow, letting me ride the peak, but as soon as my shaking slows, she speeds up. Dammit, she doesn¡¯t even have the decency to appear winded while having her way with me, but at least her blush is a deep scarlet, showing her excitement.

    ¡°Tonight, you¡¯re going to forget everything but us.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-154-Lane

    Lane stumbled through the camp, fighting to keep his drooping eyes open. It had been a long day in a series of long days. He was proud that the Hall had intervened to help the refugees of the city, but he couldn¡¯t deny his regret for getting involved. He didn¡¯t know what he was getting into while blindly following Alyssa. He barely had time to talk to his crush between his duties. He was happy that Alyssa trusted him, but that trust put him in the middle of many annoying situations. Aside from arranging the patrols and taking reports, he had also fallen into the role of the resident troubleshooter.

    One of the shelters was damaged and the earth acolytes were being stubborn bastards? Lane had to sweet talk them. Someone showed signs of the fatal sickness people weren¡¯t supposed to know about? Lane had to quietly slip them away from the heart of the camp to the holding area. Somebody threw a punch after the stress of escaping a monster and sharing a small shelter with half a dozen strangers made them snap? Lane had to go talk them down.

    Every day, he was worked to the bone. The day had been particularly bad. For some reason he couldn¡¯t possibly fathom, dissent was spreading through the camp. There were people that blamed the Hall for the tragedy of the city. Those who thought that Dunwayne should have acted sooner or that the Hall could be doing more to help them recover their lives.

    It was ridiculous, but hatred didn¡¯t need logic to sustain it. The people in the camp were looking for a reason to lash out, good or bad. And someone had given them one. Lane got involved when a member of the Watch reported that a group was making a racket in the middle of camp. While they tried to leave the refugees to their own devices, they couldn¡¯t tolerate anyone disturbing public order.

    Lane went with the intention of calming them down and perhaps sending them outside the camp for a few hours. Somehow, he ended up in a shouting match with ten bedraggled men with angry eyes and fierce sneers. His attempts to calm them down riled the men up further. Before he knew it, one of them was running at him with a raised fist.

    The Watch acted to subdue the man and his friends. Somehow, that became the Watch making an unprompted attack on brave men willing to speak up for the oppressed people of Quest. Their shouting about the injustices against them had stirred the crowd and a single spark started an inferno. In the course of a few breaths, the Watch went from pacifying a small group to a large mob.

    In the end, Lane had needed to use walls of fire to cut off their rampantly mounting aggression, forcing them back into their shelters and tents with extreme heat. Then he¡¯d needed to calm the members of the Watch down, as the last thing the camp needed was its peacekeepers resorting to violence prematurely, and then rearrange the patrols. He also had to write a report about the troublemakers.

    By the time he was finished, it was dark, a headache was brewing in his skull, and he felt nauseous from mild core strain. It was a struggle to shuffle through the camp. Only the thought of collapsing into his uncomfortable cot kept him going. Normally, he tried to have dinner with Alyssa, but he didn¡¯t even have the energy to eat.

    He certainly didn¡¯t have the energy to deal with four shadowy figures that stepped out of the shadows around him to bar his path. Lane forced himself to straighten up as they came to a stop. ¡°Whatever this is, can it wait till tomorrow?¡± he asked, his exhaustion weakening the authority he was trying to convey.

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    ¡°Saints damned uppity acolyte,¡± one of the men growled before spitting to the side. ¡°Guess you expect us to kiss your ass, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°No, but I would like you to get out the way.¡±

    One of the men stepped forward. Lane found it hard to focus but he was pretty sure that he didn¡¯t recognize the man from the troublemakers from earlier. The camp didn¡¯t have the space, facilities, or resources to hold prisoners so he¡¯d let the instigators of the incident go with a stern warning that if they caused any more trouble, they¡¯d face consequences. What kind, he had no idea. If it came to it, he¡¯d kick the problem up to Alyssa.

    But the man looked nothing like the ruffians that tried to start a riot. He didn¡¯t look much like a refugee. It went beyond his clean clothes, his manicured goatee, and neatly braided black hair. Beyond the obvious signs of wealth like the rings on his fingers and the heavy gold necklace around his neck. It was his eyes. The refugees didn¡¯t have any will. Their eyes were empty and hopeless.

    The man in front of him was far from empty. His dark brown eyes practically gleamed with emotion. Lane had a strong instinct that being the focus of that stare was going to be a problem, but it was too late for him to avoid him.

    ¡°Lane Macklemore?¡± the man asked, though there was no doubt in the words.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I apologize for waylaying you after what has clearly been a trying day. I simply wanted to apologize for my comrades¡¯ action. Our movement doesn¡¯t support violence. They let their tempers get away from them. It was a poor showing but one can hardly blame them for snapping. These are trying times for even the patient among us.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    He smiled. ¡°No one important. Will you allow us to escort you back to your tent?¡±

    Did he want to be escorted by four strangers whose comrades had tried to hurt him earlier? ¡°I can make it on my own just fine.¡±

    ¡°As you wish. I would make a request of you, in your position as a member of the Watch. I¡¯d like to speak with Alyssa Filagree.¡±

    ¡°About?¡±

    ¡°What else? About this camp and the refugees that depend on it. It¡¯s obvious to anyone that cares to look that the current circumstances will lead to a tragedy. If we want our city back, our lives back, then we must get proactive. As a voice of the people, I would hope to discuss them with the woman with the power to change our futures.¡±

    ¡°If you want to talk to her, I¡¯m gonna need your name.¡±

    The man gestured one of his companions forward, a large man with broad shoulders and an unkempt appearance, especially next to the well-groomed man. ¡°This is Renald. He will find you in the morning and in the afternoon until you have an answer from Miss Filagree.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not going to appreciate the secrecy.¡±

    ¡°I understand that it will make things more difficult, but it is necessary. These are dangerous times. Quest and its people have enemies. Someone stepping forward in this time of crisis makes a target of themselves. Before I can protect the people, I need to be able to protect myself.¡±

    ¡°¡­fine. Whatever.¡± The poor fools didn¡¯t understand how little tolerance Alyssa had for games, especially when they involved her, but they would find out. ¡°Is that all?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all.¡±

    The man gestured again and the others stepped aside, leaving him plenty of room to walk between them. Lane hesitated, his instincts telling him not to walk between enemies, but he buried the vague dread and shuffled forward. The four men watched him intensely but made no suspicious move. Though the mysterious man threw parting words at his back as he passed.

    ¡°It¡¯d be in the best interests of everyone if you convinced your boss to meet with me. Either way, I will be heard.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-155-Marcella

    The Guiness family was without question the wealthiest family in the kingdom. The marquis was the pillar that held up Harvest¡¯s economy. He could bend and twist the market at will. He had moved beyond making money. It truly was nothing to the man besides a tool.

    Much more important was influence. Wealth was a powerful tool, but it could be beaten by might and authority. Gold couldn¡¯t stop a knife and no amount of money could rival the authority of the crown. In his later years, the marquis traded in favors, leaving matters of money to his children.

    Marcella very much cared for money. She cared about each and every store, as every crown they earned put her that much closer to inheriting her father¡¯s empire. A goal that wouldn¡¯t be realized for several decades, given the obscene amount her father spent on healers. To go along with his youthful body was a sharp mind, one that didn¡¯t miss any details and operated on cold logic.

    He didn¡¯t see his children as family. They were tools and only the most effective could be left to preserve his legacy. His judgments were harsh and his biases strong. One mistake would haunt his potential heirs for years, leading to a harsher judgment on all their actions. It was a hole nearly impossible to climb out of. Better to avoid falling.

    A rationale that had Marcella working without sleep while on a likely dangerous dose of stimulants. There was just too much to do and every second counted.

    Foremost, she was grateful that Lou had spared the hotel and her warehouses. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure the latter wasn¡¯t just a happy coincidence, as the store hadn¡¯t made it. It was a blow, but of little consequence. The hotel was her seat of power in the city. It was where the Guiness family forces were concentrated. Forces that, in the absence of any authority figures, she had mobilized to take charge of the city guard.

    Everyone was paralyzed by indecision in the wake of the destruction. It was a tragedy of unparalleled scale in the history of the kingdom¡­and unparalleled opportunity. While the rest of the city cowered, Marcella, who was confident in her understanding of Lou¡¯s character, had acted with relative assurance that the worst had passed. The city guard was more afraid than anyone else. It was their job to protect the city and they failed spectacularly. That meant three possible futures for them; either they would be purged, heavily sanctioned, or charged with bringing down Lou. All the options were terrible and one might as well be a death sentence.

    With that looming over them, they were more than happy to listen to someone who promised them their lives. It was an empty promise. If Lou decided the city guard or anyone else in the kingdom needed to die, there was nothing Marcella or her family could do to stop her. But the Guiness name had power. It was easier for them to believe that she could protect them, so they chose to believe it.

    With several times more manpower, it was relatively easy for Marcella to take control of the city¡¯s ruins. The first thing she did was direct the guard to conduct rescue efforts. Their effectiveness didn¡¯t matter. It was about their image. Most residents of the city considered the guard to be a joke at worst and errand boys at best. One tragedy couldn¡¯t change a perception reinforced over generations, but their efforts did earn the guard a bit of trust from the shattered community.

    The second phase of Marcella¡¯s plan was to reinforce that trust by distributing supplies to those that remained in the city, using the guard as her hands. It also served a separate purpose. As always, information was the greatest asset. She needed to know who lived, who didn¡¯t, and who had fled. When an extensive interview was the requirement for several days of rations, water, and blankets, people opened up.

    The third part of her plan was to collect. The houses of the dead were raided. Businesses were looted. Troublemakers were encouraged to move on or quietly disposed of. With the competition removed and no one watching her, Marcella opened her wallet and poured.

    Whatever she could get her hands on, she bought. Houses, businesses, empty lots, fields, schools, it didn¡¯t matter. People were scared. They needed money to survive or to escape. And while it was practical to act in the present, Marcella cared about the future. The purchases she made wouldn¡¯t see profit for a while. She was prepared for it to be a drain on her personal wealth, as she had long exceeded her operating budget for the city, for years, maybe even decades. But when the dust settled, people would look around and realize that a single woman owned the city, at least from a trade perspective.

    She would also control it. With the guilds broken, at least in the short-term, the city guard had a chance to assert itself as the peacekeeping power of Quest, an opportunity the organization hadn¡¯t had for the whole of its existence. An influx of wealth, some training, and a few promotions for the right people and they wouldn¡¯t be easily pushed aside once they sunk their teeth into the people. She had no doubt that the people would want the guilds to have a lot more supervision, which would give her all the excuses she needed to cripple them, ensuring they never returned to their former prominence.

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    Quest, one of the largest cities in the kingdom, would be her playground. And there was only one thing that could stop her. One variable that she couldn¡¯t predict and had the potential to ruin everything.

    Lou.

    She had a reasonable understanding of the events that led to the city¡¯s destruction. Throughout the entire failed negotiation with the guilds, the noblewoman¡¯s actions were always reactionary. That bode well, as Marcella had no intentions of angering the summoner or any of her lovers. However, she didn¡¯t know if the destruction was the end of Lou¡¯s plans.

    She didn¡¯t care if Lou wanted to continue her slaughter. She just wanted to make sure that she wasn¡¯t standing in the way of the fireball. Or the purple hill-sized monster that leveled a row of buildings with every swing of its long limbs.

    The problem was that Lou was proving hard to get a hold of. Marcella would have preferred to intercept her after watching her for a few days, to have some clue as to her mindset, but for the last several days, the eyes she had in the city reported that no one had left the estate. She had held off on sending someone to knock on their door, but she was left with no other option. Hopefully, the response would be favorable.

    The best scenario was that Lou worked with her to develop the city. Marcella would like to be an undisputed ruler, but she would gladly sacrifice that position for the chance to cooperate with Lou. As a Guiness daughter, she could only rule the city from the shadows using discreet means. Her dominion would be shallow, easily overcome by true authority.

    She could spend as much gold as she liked buying up the city, but it wouldn¡¯t mean a thing if the crown simply claimed that land using a flimsy excuse. It wasn¡¯t likely, as the king flexing his muscles would irritate her father to no end and there would be blood, literally and metaphorically. But he could. Similarly, if the more powerful hunters banded together and decided to claim the land the old-fashioned way, it would be a long and arduous road combating them.

    Things would be entirely different if Lou took over the city. For one, there would be no question of who owned what. There also wouldn¡¯t be anyone challenging her claim, at least not from Quest or the Hall. Marcella was willing to bet her life that once the other powers saw what she was capable of, they would be in no rush to challenge her either. Lest the saints themselves took exception, Lou could plop a circlet on her head and declare Quest¡¯s independence and no one would have the ability to argue, let alone the desire too.

    That kind of unrivaled authority paired with her considerable wealth and connections? Marcella could do grand things. Incredible things. Perhaps even something that would finally earn her father¡¯s admiration and approval rather than his acknowledgment. She wanted it, badly, but she tempered her greed with large doses of fear. Whenever her fantasies of the future grew out of hand, she stepped to the closest window and reminded herself exactly what kind of creature she was trying to tie her prosperity to.

    Lou was not a variable that could be controlled. The most she could do was latch on and cling for dear life with the hopes that the summoner was headed up rather than down.

    It was risky, but Marcella hadn¡¯t gotten to be a forerunner amongst the heirs by playing things safe. The question wasn¡¯t if she would do it. Merely when to make her move.

    She would never utter the distasteful comparison, but she likened her actions to that of a scavenger. Something small and sleek that made itself invisible while the predator did the hunting, slinking out when the violence was over to feast on what remained on the carcass. It wasn¡¯t admirable by any means. It was cowardly and perhaps sick to profit off the pain of so many. Unfortunately, a conscience didn¡¯t make money, so she¡¯d discarded hers long ago.

    She was in the middle of amending a proposal to a particularly stubborn store owner when a letter rudely interrupted her work. Marcella knew it would be trouble from the moment her fingers brushed the smooth parchment of the small scroll placed on top of the pile of missives delivered to her.

    It being a scroll and of a small size meant it was carried by messenger hawk, the fastest method of delivering word and exorbitantly expensive. She guessed it was from the capital immediately but the royal seal on the wax holding it closed surprised her. Rarely did the crown address the Guiness heirs directly, knowing that they made no major decisions without their father¡¯s approval.

    As she was sure she had done nothing to warrant a reward, Marcella braced herself for bad news. It was still worse than she could have imagined.

    The crown requested the aide of the Guiness knights in securing the Teppin estate and rendering aide to the lord of the city. A simple request on the surface but a field full of burrowing monsters in reality.

    The king did not have the power to command the forces of noble families. However, not coming to the crown¡¯s aide during a time of crisis was not looked upon well. In some cases, it was criminal. If it could be proven that the noble in question refused the summons and ignored a threat to the kingdom, then the offender could be charged with treason. The traitor and any member of their immediate family could be detained and investigated at the crown¡¯s leisure. While it would be a drastic option, it would give the king the justification he needed to go after the Guiness family.

    On the other hand, if she obeyed the request, she would be making an enemy of Lou. Her father¡¯s orders were to do everything in her power not to antagonize the Tome clan. Even if he hadn¡¯t made his wishes clear, she didn¡¯t want to end up flattened beneath a purple leviathan.

    From one direction, the king and all his men. From the other, Lou. It was almost tragic. The only saving grace of the situation was that she had time. She could make the argument that she didn¡¯t have the power to take the estate. But that argument would only last until the first royal envoy arrived, more than likely flanked by several royal knights and a large contingent of the royal army. When they arrived, they would be expecting her cooperation. And if they didn¡¯t get it, she didn¡¯t doubt for a moment that they would be detained.

    The question was, which dragon did she side with?

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-156-Dunwayne

    When he was an earnest boy named Dunn, the Harvest Hero wanted to grow up, both in body and spirit. A child couldn¡¯t stand up to the bullies in the slums where he grew up. A child couldn¡¯t earn crowns to support his family. All he wanted was to do honest work and live an honest life.

    When he was a na?ve young man, confidence buoyed by the attentions of his master, he wanted to prove himself. He wanted excitement. To slay monsters and bed beautiful women. The world was opened to him and he wanted to indulge in every bit of it. Even some of the unsavory parts.

    When he was at the height of his power and reputation, having just saved the kingdom from a threat it could have never predicted, he wanted to change the world. To save the kingdom from itself. Guide it to bigger and better future. His ambitions led him to the palace, where he bumped agendas with the most influential men in the land.

    When he was older and a little wiser, he remembered he was just one man and settled for leaving his mark. He was no longer arrogant enough to believe that he could guide all of humanity, but he was determined to make a difference and prayed to the saints that it would be a positive one.

    Now, as a tired old man, all he wanted was peace and quiet. He didn¡¯t have the heart to fight against fate. His magic hadn¡¯t waned, but his physical strength and his stamina had. He had learned much but his mind wasn¡¯t as sharp as it used to be, unable to juggle his many responsibilities with the same competence as he once could.

    Life cared nothing for his decline. It continued to throw trials at him, the latest one of the greatest he¡¯d ever faced. Seated behind his desk with his fingers splayed to reduce their aching and his back as straight as he could make it, he tried to project a strength he didn¡¯t feel as he was delivered bad news.

    ¡°We severely underestimated the fallout of the conflict between Lady Tome and the guilds.¡± Cynthia Oriole rubbed her bloodshot eyes as she focused on the papers she held. Her robe was tied messily and the front had fresh stains on it. Her dark hair was tied back and her frown made her age, usually carefully disguised through a half dozen creams and skillfully applied make-up, show prominently. As both the founder and face of a beauty company, the alchemist took great care of her looks. Her haggard appearance was a testament to how hard she was working.

    Dunwayne could vaguely remember her years as an acolyte. Cynthia had been full of spirit, with a curious streak a league wide. More than once, he¡¯d listened to exasperated instructors and healers begging him to expel her after she injured herself one of a hundred different ways with her experiments. He defended her and he did so because he saw potential in her inquisitive mind. Moreover, her compassionate spirit. She never endangered another soul, choosing to try her salves and potions personally instead.

    Decades later, there was no trace of that reckless girl besides that compassion. He worried that her love of crowns and expensive taste would compromise it, but she managed to balance the two halves of her heart. She was a shining endorsement of the Hall, the reason Dunwayne had leveraged all his gold and many favors to see it built.

    ¡°The camp needs more supplies and manpower and that¡¯s only the beginning. All our problems are worsening by the day. We planned to house a fraction of civilians for a week, maybe two.¡± She scowled. ¡°We also expected that the city¡¯s leadership would still be intact and would provide for them afterwards. Or that they would have families and jobs to rely on.

    ¡°The Abyss swallowed all those hopes. Almost the whole southern half of the city has been flattened. The camp we expected to house a few hundred, maximum, has thousands of souls crammed into it. We¡¯re expanding and rationing, but people are still cramped and going hungry. We¡¯ve tried salvaging supplies from the city and buying more, but between looters and greedy bastards jacking up prices, every bag of grain is a miracle.¡±

    Dunwayne let out a breath and tried to ignore the pain in his lower back. It seemed everything made him hurt in some way. ¡°Does the Hall not have surplus?¡±

    The alchemist sighed. ¡°Our stores are tight. The dorm kitchens tell me that they have enough to feed the acolytes for two weeks, maybe four if they start rationing right away. That doesn¡¯t include the instructors who likely don¡¯t have more than a few days of food in their homes, the laborers, or the servants. We also don¡¯t know when we¡¯ll be resupplied.

    ¡°News of what happened will have spread to every corner of the kingdom by now. Certainly Rosentheim. Any merchant that isn¡¯t scared will be charging an arm and a leg for anything they carry. If we open our pantries, we can feed everyone for a week, but after that we¡¯ll have to deal with dozens of powerful, angry casters. Hopefully, they¡¯ll just leave but if they don¡¯t¡­¡±

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    ¡°What of the Sanctuary? They grow food crops and raise beasts that can be slaughtered.¡±

    ¡°No offense, Headmaster, but the Temple will fight us tooth and nail before they let us remove a blade of grass. Literally.¡±

    Dunwayne sighed. Many times, he questioned his decision to house the manabeast fanatics. Long before he built the school, the different clans that made up the Temple were nomads and raiders. They lived in small tribes and wandered large swaths of land, stealing what they wanted from smaller settlements before disappearing into the wilderness.

    The royal army was mobilized many times to subdue them, but none could rival the wild men and women in untamed lands. For every member they detained or killed, they suffered a dozen casualties and it never helped. The Temple was both stubborn and vengeful. They¡¯d disappeared for months before resurfacing to cause more trouble than before.

    Dunwayne got involved with them when the previous king requested his help in subduing a particularly raucous tribe. The leader had tamed a winged crimson cobra, one of the deadliest flying manabeasts on the continent. Big enough to swallow a bear, possessing powerful wind magic, and able to spew acidic mists. Aerial combat was already difficult for the best of the best. A caster riding on the back of such a beast made it impossible.

    At the time, Dunwayne had just been waking up to the possibility that not every problem had to be solved with violence. He defied many expectations by talking to them and he discovered that they were not the monsters the nobles painted them as. They were strange people with strange beliefs but all they wanted was the freedom to live as they pleased.

    Dunwayne leveraged his reputation to strike a deal with the clan he was sent to subdue and every other they had connections with. He stopped their raiding and found them legitimate work that benefited the kingdom. In return, he promised to find them a place for them to live in peace. He intended for that place to be a quiet corner of the kingdom, likely in the underdeveloped south. When he started making plans for the Hall, the Sanctuary seemed a much better fit. Also, their taming skills gave the school a source of income, which it desperately needed in the beginning.

    It was the right choice and a lot of good had come from it¡­but also a lot of complications. The Temple grew in power while Dunwayne weakened. They were well beyond his ability to rein in, but they still listened when he spoke, owing to what he had done for them. His successor wouldn¡¯t even have that.

    The old hero was no fool. Soon, time would claim him as it claimed all creatures. He¡¯d long ago made his peace that being a legend didn¡¯t make him immortal. Leaving a legacy was as close as he¡¯d come, and he worried about it. It had become more than he ever imagined. A beacon of light. The key to the kingdom¡¯s future.

    The Hall wasn¡¯t the only place where the talented gathered. It was the only place where the lowest of the low could rise to the greatest heights. A place where those born without status or wealth could cultivate their talent without fear of reprisal. The Hall represented hope.

    Dunwayne loved the kingdom, but he was aware of its deficiencies. Harvest wasn¡¯t a fair or kind place. Some areas were outright travesties, like Victory. The powerful hoarded their power and none could challenge them. That was the way of things for a long time. There was no motivation to change as there were no other options, humanity having isolated itself from the world generations ago.

    Dunwayne had shined a light into the dark pit the common people thought inescapable for generations. His influence extended far beyond his domain. He and the Hall allowed people to dream. Harvest couldn¡¯t lose that.

    And he was very afraid they would. He¡¯d extended his help after the crisis for many reasons, not least of which was his altruistic spirit, but one of them was to test his subordinates. To see who would rise to the occasion, because that was who he wanted to take over when he inevitably retired.

    Some had, notably Cynthia who had taken it upon herself to organize the Hall¡¯s efforts and Alyssa who was on the frontline of the disaster. The acolytes were also working hard, motivated by reduced tuition and a possible apprenticeship to a master. But the true power behind the Hall, the instructors, weren¡¯t interested.

    Dunwayne wasn¡¯t training heroes. The Hall represented freedom. It drew the best and the brightest because it gave them space and didn¡¯t place restrictions on them. Powerful casters tended to be arrogant and selfish. They also tended to be distant, especially from the little people. The only emotion the plight of the city inspired was annoyance, as the lack of supplies and the interrupted trade routes would hinder their work.

    It was shameful, but if everyone was a saint, they wouldn¡¯t be worshipped. There was no point in lamenting what others didn¡¯t do. Heroes took action.

    ¡°I will write to the Rosefields. Their patriarch owes me a favor or two.¡±

    ¡°How many favors does it take to get a reasonable price for grain?¡± the alchemist groused.

    ¡°Too many. He¡¯s a thief dressed in a nice jacket, but the Hall can eat the damage. Keeping people fed is more important than minding the treasury.¡±

    Cynthia hummed in agreement. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, it won¡¯t take more than two weeks for the food to arrive. Two hard weeks.¡±

    ¡°I will endeavor to hasten my dealings but, yes, it could come to that. Perhaps longer.¡±

    The alchemist slumped in her seat. ¡°Is there nothing else we can do?¡±

    ¡°There is another place to get food. The sea.¡±

    ¡°You want to negotiate with Graywatch? We joke when we call merchants thieves, but pirates are literal thieves. They will milk this situation for all it¡¯s worth.¡±

    ¡°I find, no matter their reputation, people are people. As long as you can find common ground, they can be reasoned with.¡±

    ¡°How do we find common ground with a pirate?¡±

    Dunwayne chuckled. Before, the answer would have been by grabbing one of their ships and crashing it into the docks, but he didn¡¯t need the trouble of throwing out his back. ¡°Through another pirate. I understand we have several acolytes from the coast attending. I¡¯m sure at least one has the connections we need.¡±

 ARC 7-Cursed Fates-157-Orum

    ¡°This land is intolerable.¡±

    ¡°Stop grouching. It makes a long journey longer.¡±

    Orum suppressed the urge to growl. He was not happy when Morgene invited herself along when he announced he was going to seek out their daughter, but he couldn¡¯t refuse her. He wasn¡¯t afraid, like many in Dusk. He was more than capable of standing against her temper, mostly because he was a very capable healer and had become accustomed to enduring pain.

    The problem was that he had no way to stop her. She was even more fearless than him and because of her affinity, he could not outrun her. Wherever Morgene Atainna wanted to go, she would go and woe to anyone that thought to get in her way.

    A month had passed since they started their journey. A long, arduous month. The worst part was going through the Enchanted Forest. The threats within it meant nothing, the beasts within so weak he could kill them with a flick of his finger. The problem was his bonded.

    The whole of his race thrived on conflict, but Morgene took their teachings to an extreme. The Great Spirit gave them strength and taught them that facing their troubles would help them grow. Nowhere did their benefactor state for them to go out seeking trouble. To take joy in creating chaos and triumphing over it. Morgene¡¯s bad temperament was wholly to blame.

    Orum didn¡¯t think she was a bad person. If he truly despised her, he would not have joined with her. She could be kind, sometimes, to those she cared for. But she was a blade. It was a tool meant to cut and even though it had a blunt edge that wasn¡¯t fatal, it still hurt. Orum had accepted her nature, as it was no different from a bird flying or a fish swimming. What he couldn¡¯t accept was that nature hurting his precious daughter.

    Moving through her prison, a terrible urge overcame him. He knew it was a bad idea the moment he thought it, but he couldn¡¯t resist asking her to show him the spot. The thought of his precious Kii being trapped in a lonely forest for two decades was hard enough. Seeing the tree she¡¯d called home, dark and empty, hammered it home, inspiring a fresh wave of horror. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn¡¯t help it. He lost his temper. They argued.

    Morgene loved a good argument.

    It lasted four days and devastated a significant amount of the forest. A tame event by their standards. Afterward, she tried to lure him into ¡°making up¡± but his good sense finally kicked in, and he rejected that terrible idea. The damn woman didn¡¯t even have the decency to look disappointed. Her smile said she thought his abstinence wouldn¡¯t last. Their history suggested as much, but she was wrong. Or at least half wrong. So long as his anger burned hotter than his passions, there wasn¡¯t a chance.

    Though there was a chance that his anger would be quenched in relative short order. Morgene would drink his anger like a fine wine, so there was no use pouring it into her. Hopefully, the woman that stole his daughter would prove a more satisfying target.

    ¡°Oh? I believe we¡¯ve arrived.¡±

    From Kierra¡¯s few communications, Morgene knew she was in a city called Quest. Neither knew where that was, but it was simple enough to find. The roads of the kingdom were well-crafted and easy to travel. The humans they encountered were also helpful, at least when encouraged properly.

    ¡°Big white walls,¡± Orum said in agreement, spotting the distinctive sign of the city in the distance.

    ¡°I would hardly call them big.¡±

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    ¡°They have no Great Tree to compare them to. For them, it is big.¡±

    ¡°Your vacation has mellowed you.¡± Morgene frowned. It was truly unfair that even that was beautiful. ¡°Is there any room for strength in you with tolerance and understanding taking up so much space?¡±

    ¡°I have plenty of strength, as you¡¯ve seen. Come. If we run, we can make it to the city well before nightfall.¡±

    Morgene scoffed. Then she grabbed his shoulder and the world shifted. Orum was accustomed to her ways and managed to keep his balance as he found himself at the base of the walls he was planning to sprint to. ¡°You could have asked,¡± he growled quietly as a human dressed in poor armor standing by the gate to the city jumped, yelping like a beaten dog.

    ¡°Why waste the words? It was an expedient solution and if you didn¡¯t want it to happen, you were perfectly capable of stopping me.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª"

    ¡°Halt!¡± The human interrupted him, one hand going to the hilt of the blade that hung at his waist. ¡°State your name and your business!¡±

    ¡°We are¡ª" Orum trailed off as the human man disappeared with a wave of Morgene¡¯s hand. ¡°You did not have to kill him.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s alive and no longer wasting our time. Well?¡±

    He shook his head. Orum left his homeland to train, find other ways of fighting. Yet, his biggest lesson had been in respect. Respecting the cultures of others and the people that practiced them. There was more to strength than hitting hard. More to life than an endless pursuit of strength. But the mother of his child could care less about such things. He also couldn¡¯t deny that her methods saved time, so he held his tongue and walked into the city.

    It didn¡¯t take them before they encountered the destruction. Orum eyed the ruins with apprehension and a critical eye. Morgene took in the signs of conflict with a toothy grin.

    ¡°That¡¯s my daughter,¡± the royal practically purred as they wove through piles of rubble.

    ¡°We do not know she was involved.¡±

    ¡°A city was leveled and you think an Atainna wasn¡¯t involved?¡± She chuckled. ¡°I was concerned that soft woman would mellow her, but I suppose the girl has more spine than I thought. Much more if she stood by our little warrior while she did this.¡±

    ¡°She is not just a warrior,¡± Orum snapped. He understood in a way Morgene could not. To her, everything was a weapon. She saw the physical affinity and could only imagine it being used to smash and crush. But the affinity was better known for its healing. To master it, one had to study how to efficiently take apart a body. That same knowledge also allowed them to put a body back together. All the best physical casters were natural healers. ¡°We don¡¯t know she was responsible.¡±

    ¡°It is a bit¡­spread out. Kierra is a more precise hunter.¡±

    It took effort not to react to her tone, for he thought he could detect the faintest hint of worry in it. ¡°We should find her quickly.¡±

    ¡°And what then? I told you, she loves her human. She won¡¯t listen to threats or reason. If she challenged me, she won¡¯t hesitate to challenge you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t wish to fight her.¡±

    ¡°Oh? So we traveled across two continents for you to do nothing?¡±

    ¡°I want to see her partner. Make sure this human is a good match for my precious daughter. If so, then I will give them my blessing.¡±

    Morgene laughed. ¡°No one is good enough. That is the problem. And when that proves to be the case yet again? What will you do?¡±

    If Kierra¡¯s partner proved unworthy? When he discovered Kierra¡¯s imprisonment, he promised himself he would protect her. From her mother, from the monsters of the world, and from her own bad decisions if necessary. ¡°We have to find her.¡±

    ¡°She is Atainna. Look for the biggest house.¡±

    ¡°That would be there, I think.¡± Orum pointed to the floating rock hovering over the north end of the city. ¡°Kii is not a fan of heights.¡±

    ¡°Our daughter fears nothing.¡±

    ¡°Not that she¡¯s afraid. Uncomfortable. The earth is the center of life. Being too far from makes her uncomfortable, as it does with many physical casters.¡±

    ¡°You still think of her as a little girl. She hasn¡¯t needed you to protect her for a long time.¡± Before he could respond, Morgene disappeared. A moment later, she returned with a young man dressed in patchwork armor. His eyes were shut tightly.

    ¡°Ugh. I think I¡¯m going to be sick,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Go on.¡± Morgene ruthlessly tossed the nauseous man to the ground. ¡°Ask. You wouldn¡¯t believe any answer I deliver to you.¡±

    Orum sighed as he crouched beside the man. With barely a thought, lifted the man by his hair and cured him of his sickness.

    ¡°Green?¡± the man asked, clearly confused.

    ¡°Yes. And I¡¯m looking for another like me.¡±

    ¡°The elf. Oh, saints¡¯ blessed asses.¡±

    Orum dropped the man¡¯s head and helped him to his feet, a strong grip on his shoulder dissuading him from his obvious intentions to run away. ¡°I see you know my daughter. Good. You will take us to her.¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-01

    It¡¯s interesting that there are no opposites to the saints.

    I don¡¯t question the kingdom¡¯s religion often. Don¡¯t care enough to. Though as a child, I used to question the definition of what made a saint a saint.

    It¡¯s a bit confusing. Some people think a saint has to have a powerful light affinity. Some think it¡¯s anyone who does far-reaching good deeds. Some think it¡¯s a combination of both. I can¡¯t remember the exact number of recognized saints, I¡¯m sure most don¡¯t, but everybody knows about the First Saint, the hero of humanity, and makes their assumptions based off the many stories surrounding him. But there is one thing that isn¡¯t steeped in mystery and misunderstandings.

    There are no villains in the kingdom¡¯s official religion.

    Good people spend eternity languishing in unparalleled comfort within Paradise. The best of them are the leaders of Paradise, worshiped for all time. Everyone else? The average, the bad, the evil, and the morally repugnant? Gone. Wiped away without a trace. There are no thieves trying to take away Paradise¡¯s treasures, no scoundrels hiding amongst the deserving, and certainly no murderers hunting down the saints.

    I don¡¯t know if one has any bearing on the other, but Harvest doesn¡¯t have a culture of villains. I can¡¯t think of a story where the hero loses. There are a few where the victory is bittersweet or hollow, but they always conquer all obstacles, win every battle. Villains are idiotic, odorous beings that either doom themselves or stand no chance against the righteous light wielded against them.

    The kingdom even sweeps its real problems under the rug. All my life, I¡¯ve been led to believe that Harvest is completely safe, the people kept in line by city guards and the wilds suppressed by the royal army. Yet, I¡¯ve been ambushed on the King¡¯s Road, the largest and most trafficked road in Harvest, three times, twice by the same damn bandits. Saints, we lost a whole war and an elemental stole land from us. My tutors brush over that fact and highlight the second part, all the good that has come from our trade agreements with Aggro.

    It seems the people in power have gone out of their way to craft the illusion that humanity does not lose, neither to bad apples nor bad circumstances. Which is ridiculous. The kingdom only exists because we got our asses kicked all around the world and took shelter here.

    Yet, they¡¯ve managed to make everyone believe in that nonsense. Victory refuses to believe they will lose against the titans. The hunters refused to believe they would lose to me. Bell put it best, during one of our many recent conversations. It¡¯s an intentionally crafted culture of imagined invincibility. And there will be dire consequences to having the illusion shattered.

    By the time it reaches every corner of the kingdom, the story will not be distorted a hundred different ways, but one thing will remain consistent when it comes to the Tragedy of Quest: I¡¯m the villain. The crazy noblewoman who leveled a city and killed thousands. Nevermind I did everything I could to avoid that and they practically forced me to get violent. Men, women, and children died. It doesn¡¯t get much worse than that.

    And yet, I¡¯m walking around free. No saint has descended to smite me. No fated son born with awe-inspiring talent and a heart of justice has struck me down. I live in a nice house, eat good food, and am surrounded by beautiful women. A villain is living a life anyone would envy. When that gets out, it¡¯s going to drive the people wild.

    Evil is not supposed to prosper. Casters are not supposed to be able to wield their might with impunity. For all the problems in the kingdom, safety has never been anyone¡¯s concern, or so I say from my limited interactions with the commoners in our village. If people don¡¯t think the nobles or the crown can keep them safe, then they have no reason to take all the crap they have to deal with. It¡¯s a recipe for rebellion.

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    A topic I¡¯ve been thinking about a lot, not just today, as I stroll across the bare estate. It¡¯s the best place to wrangle my thoughts. If I walk through the house with a sullen face, someone¡¯s going to try and cheer me up, distract me from the dark thoughts. And they¡¯ll succeed. Whether it¡¯s a strength of theirs or a weakness of mine, I¡¯m easily susceptible to the charms of my lovers. But sometimes I just want to steep in morose thoughts. A bit of solemnity is good for the mind. Make things clearer and I need clarity for the one burning question that dominates my thoughts.

    Do I stay or do I go?

    There is an argument to be made for either choice. I¡¯ve got strong connections to Harvest. The saints know why. Most of my memories are terrible. There is also little to admire. Or¡­anything to admire, now that I think about it. Really, what can humanity be proud of? Certainly not our king and if the jealous brat I had to contend with is any indication, the rest of the royals are a lost cause as well. There may be one or two worthy of anything other than contempt but, as a whole, our nobles are selfish bastards. Every other group is lacking as well, from the faceless commoners to the knights who have taken what used to be a title that meant something and turned it into something synonymous with mercenaries, just better paid.

    Despite that, it¡¯s still home and I¡¯m loathed to leave. I just don¡¯t know if that desire is enough to face the epic shitstorm headed my direction. Another reason I didn¡¯t want to settle the March with violence was because I knew it wouldn¡¯t end at one battle. The guilds are done, but that only makes room for more annoyances. Quest is vulnerable and all sorts of groups are going to want a piece of it. And I¡¯m standing in the way.

    I can say whatever I want, but this city is mine by the most primal law that exists, conquest. Unless I make a very public departure, anyone that wants a slice of the pie is going to assume they have to go through me. That¡¯s going to cause an endless series of problems.

    And for what? I¡¯m squatting in a stolen house, surrounded by ruins and people that hate me for making them. I¡¯m not welcome at the Hall. What in the soul-swallowing Abyss am I here for? The scenery? Sigh.

    Even if I stay, I don¡¯t have to stay in Quest. There are half a dozen big cities in the kingdom and a whole lot more towns, villages, and empty land where I could be alone if I wanted. I could go to Victory. At least those crazy warmongers will welcome me with open arms.

    Or there¡¯s the ever-green Rosentheim, known for its love of food and casters who don¡¯t train to kill people. Like the Guiness family, trade is their weapon. As the kingdom¡¯s breadbasket, one wrong word from the Duke and Harvest starves. Different kind of power, different kind of people. Could be interesting. Could be really fucking terrible.

    What about leaving? Where would I go? I naturally think of the elven continent because of Kierra but for all the rampant stupidity I¡¯ve endured here, the elves are worse. So much worse. The rest of the world is a mystery. For some, that¡¯s an allure, but not for me. I¡¯d rather know exactly what I¡¯ve diving into. There¡¯s a reason humanity hasn¡¯t left its borders in centuries.

    There are dragons beyond our waters. Maybe beyond our mountains too, but definitely beyond our waters. Along with a whole host of other dangers. Humans and elves aren¡¯t the only sentient races in the world. Supposedly, there¡¯s good reason we didn¡¯t make alliances with any of them during the Great War.

    There¡¯s a lot to consider, but the magnitude of my choice isn¡¯t what¡¯s stopping me from choosing. It¡¯s the lack of feeling. I don¡¯t care either way. I don¡¯t care about much of anything these days. I push forward because there¡¯s no choice but everything inside is numb. My heart beats when I¡¯m with my loved ones but besides that, all I have is the anger. Cold, hard anger that I can¡¯t move and don¡¯t know how to get rid of. Don¡¯t even know why it¡¯s still there. I killed the people that I was angry at. The rest of them are rats without a sewer. It¡¯s done¡­but I can¡¯t let it go.

    Unless I want a succubus poking around my mind, all I can do is plod forward. Hopefully, toward less calamitous decisions.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-02

    ¡°Lady Lou.¡±

    I stop at the adorable call, a ghost of a smile gracing my lips as I watch Anna run at me full speed, four balls of fluff trailing her. In one hand is a stack of paper. In the other, a letter opener. If it were any other kid running with an uncovered blade, I¡¯d be worried but she¡¯s fine. Bet she could spill a man¡¯s guts with that thing if I know Geneva. Wouldn¡¯t even flinch if she cut herself either.

    I choose to believe that both of those facts are signs that my clan makes great guardians, not terrible ones.

    She stops in front of me wearing a large smile. It¡¯s incredible how resilient she is. She was chased from her home in the middle of the night by men with some of the worst intentions there are but days later, she doesn¡¯t seem affected at all. I wish she could bottle that good mood and let me take a sip.

    ¡°Knew I¡¯d be popular,¡± I grumble as I take the bounty of paper and the thin knife from her small hands. ¡°Wanna read them with me?¡±

    I chuckle at her enthusiastic nod and drop to the ground, motioning for her to sit in my lap. The fluffs settle around us, bumping against me but easily ignored. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± I knew every eye in the kingdom would turn to Quest but I underestimated how many players would try to throw their cards onto the table. I flip through the envelopes, handing Anna the ones with crests I don¡¯t recognize, the smaller fish without any teeth. My sorting leaves me with six messages that catch my attention, or rather, can¡¯t be ignored.

    The envelopes bearing the royal seal and that of the Grand Hall I expect.

    I should have expected the one with the Guiness seal.

    The three bearing the seals of the James, the Rosefields, and the Tomes surprises me.

    I debate which one to open first before grabbing the letter sent by the crown. Might as well get the worst news out of the way. I pry up the wax with a nail and open the envelope with a practiced swipe of the letter opener, holding the neatly folded paper inside out in front of Anna while reading it over her shoulder.

    Oh? Not quite what I expected. There¡¯s plenty of threats and a demand that I surrender to the royal officer sent to seize control of Quest when he arrives, but between the lines, and there¡¯s always a message between the lines when it comes to the capital, is that I¡¯m being given a chance.

    Maybe I¡¯m crazy but the good king doesn¡¯t sound too angry that I¡¯ve decimated one of the biggest cities in the kingdom. He doesn¡¯t come right out and congratulate or commend me¡­but he also asks/demands that I speak with his envoy a few too many times for it to be a simple case of me being detained and tried for treason. It feels like¡­he¡¯s asking me to negotiate.

    Which, fair. I¡¯d want to negotiate with the person who fought an army and won too. At least get a firm grasp of their abilities before trying to kill them. ¡°What do you think?¡± I ask the little girl my lap.

    ¡°Hm. Confusing.¡±

    ¡°What makes it confusing?¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a challenge but doesn¡¯t. Growl then whimper.¡±

    I ruffle her hair and laugh. ¡°That¡¯s how it goes. Brandish the sword with one foot forward, but ready to run at the first roar.¡± I fold the letter and place it back into the envelope carefully, passing it to her before opening the letter from my uncle.

    It only takes a couple of lines to ruin my mood. I don¡¯t bother being careful with it once I finish, throwing it away like the trash it is. Anna, good girl that she is, snatches it out of the air and adds it to the pile. I have the urge to grab it and shred it, but I let it go. Won¡¯t change anything, especially how shitty of a man I¡¯m related to.

    My uncle has never been a reliable man. Or an honorable one. There¡¯s a reason he goes by the name Jackal. When my father¡¯s stubbornness caused the Grimoires to become more abusive than usual, it was Uncle Jackal who ¡°suggested¡± we leave the capital. He ignored his politically unambitious son and pushed his desperately eager to impress daughter into early marriage for his own gain. Then, when said daughter started acting for herself, he betrayed her in exchange for a place at the king¡¯s feet.

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    That man has the audacity to write to me begging that I don¡¯t mess up his newfound success. Oh, it¡¯s hidden under polite worry, dire warnings, and shitty advice but it all boils down to one thing; Jackal has the king¡¯s favor at the moment and he doesn¡¯t want to lose it because his niece is causing a fuss.

    For good or ill, families rise and fall together. Every time bad news about me reaches the capital, the more his own position is threatened. My reputation falls too far, his implodes from proximity alone. His letter also implies that there is some room to negotiate with the king about Quest. But, if I don¡¯t cooperate with whoever the king is sending to act as his hands in this matter, well. Then it¡¯s charges of treason for the whole family. Something I¡¯ll survive no problem and I¡¯ll do something for Jac and Matt. Uncle Jackal? He¡¯ll be neck-deep in bad shit without a rope and he knows it.

    But that¡¯s not what pisses me off.

    What makes me want to strangle him is that the letter doesn¡¯t say anything about Father. No expressing his condolences, no questions about a funeral, no reassurances that he would look after the village. Plenty of whining about protecting his ass but not a single mention of my father, his brother.

    ¡°Not good?¡± Anna asks, staring at the envelope-encased letter curiously.

    ¡°Not good.¡± I may have been a waste and a closeted degenerate before that fateful meeting with Cosmo, but Uncle Jackal is so much worse. Truly scum. ¡°Not good at all.¡± I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, Anna giggling as my breath tickles her. The sound helps me suppress my anger. ¡°Forget about that waste of ink. We¡¯ve got a lot to get through. Let¡¯s see¡­¡±

    The letter from the marquis is next. Really should have seen this coming. Outright congratulations on my overwhelming victory. Here¡¯s someone that isn¡¯t pretending he gives a damn about the city. Ah, yes. There¡¯s the expected offer to trade with us. Though he¡¯s not mentioning Kierra taking a caravan through the Enchanted Forest for once. Hm?

    My company is accustomed to facilitating discreet deals between individuals if you¡¯d rather not go through a storefront.

    ¡­nah. I¡¯m overthinking this. Reading between letters instead of between lines. There¡¯s no way that line is suggesting what I think it is. I have to be going crazy to think it¡¯s referencing goods I wouldn¡¯t want to draw attention to rather than a concern for my safety. Items like affinity stones and artifacts. Because that would mean that, somehow, Marquis Guiness knows about the hunters¡¯ Authority and suspects I have it.

    But he can¡¯t know about it. If he did, he would have alerted me because that would have been crucial information that could have averted the destruction.

    Saints damn it! I can¡¯t convince myself even a little.

    Why? Because it¡¯s so easy to see it the other way and it makes much more sense. Most would be hard pressed to understand why the marquis would purposely hold back the vital information. They¡¯d be too narrow-minded, too uninformed, or too kind to see the advantages. Quest is, was, a major trade hub. Its loss is going to affect anyone who trades in alchemical goods, including the good marquis. I¡¯d think as much if I didn¡¯t know about the Authority.

    Manabeasts are a profitable resource. Their flesh can be eaten, their furs can be used for clothing, everything else can be used in one potion or another, and some bastards keep them as trophies. They have another quality that makes the industry so profitable; they¡¯re plentiful. Quest has been the hub of hunters for generations, but if there ever was a specific reason why, it¡¯s long become irrelevant. The city may have fallen but that isn¡¯t going to stop men with more brawn than brains hunting down monsters and selling their parts.

    ¡°Quest¡± can be any settlement, anywhere. Saints, it¡¯d make more sense to build a hub for hunters in the south, where land not fit for civilized for people is still somewhat wild and teeming with challenges for the adventurous. In conclusion, the city was worthless.

    The Authority, on the other hand, is priceless. Ancient artifacts made with materials I can¡¯t even recognize and affinity stones with few to no natural deposits in the kingdom. The marquis may be the least strapped for said items, having connections beyond the continent, but if he wants to sell them on, well. Some people think the Guiness have every spare crown in the kingdom, but it could be true. Whatever price he wants to buy them for, I have no doubt he¡¯d charge three times as much. Better, he¡¯d be trading influence.

    Power means something in this kingdom. He could change the fate of a middling noble family if he sells them the right artifact. His worst enemy could become his best friend overnight.

    So. The choices were act to prevent thousands of deaths or do nothing and open the door to a possible incredible opportunity.

    The people of this kingdom are really starting to disgust me.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-03

    It doesn¡¯t take much to swallow my disgust with the marquis. Who knows what who knows? All I have are assumptions. Even if they¡¯re true, it¡¯s no surprise. People selfishly pursuing their desires, regardless of the cost to others, is normal. Expected. Saints, I¡¯m no different, am I? My little bouts of mercy and leaky, bleeding heart are meant to make me feel better. Easy to throw away the moment it becomes inconvenient.

    And my concerns about the morality of Harvest¡¯s leaders is just as easy to throw away. The worry, the offense. But not the anger. That simply joins the rest that has made a new home in my gut but it¡¯s easy to ignore as I open the next letter, this one from my future father in-law. It¡¯s less a letter and more a note, the single line making me chuckle.

    Send word if we need to march.

    No questions. No judgments. Just a statement of support, despite the fact that the fort has to be hurting in the wake of the ruined campaign. They¡¯re a bunch of crazy bastards but saints bless them, they can be admirable sometimes. I also appreciate that he doesn¡¯t say a word about the March. Maybe it¡¯s because he¡¯s wary of angering the woman who just destroyed a city but I¡¯m choosing to believe that it¡¯s a sign of trust. And why wouldn¡¯t he trust me? The situation may have gone in an unexpected direction but it¡¯s well in hand.

    ¡°Do you like snow?¡± I ask the little beastie that¡¯s made herself comfortable in my lap.

    She shakes her head. ¡°Cold. Dangerous.¡±

    Danger¡ªah. Suppose the cold would be dangerous without a roof to keep it off you and a fire to warm you up.  ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s miserable. But something tells me you¡¯d like it.¡±

    ¡°Trip?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Or we could go somewhere with lots of trees and fields and good food. Would you like that better?¡± I ask as I grab the letter bearing the seal of the Rosefield family.

    ¡°Yeah!¡±

    Well, let¡¯s see if we¡¯re welcome. Hm. A very polite tone, that bodes well. Oh hoh? Forget welcome, the good duke of the kingdom¡¯s pantries is practically insisting I come for a visit. More interestingly, he is subtly making a similar offer as the marquis. Again, I could be reading too much into the ¡°many avenues of entertainment for a lady of your means¡± but it sounds very much like he also believes I¡¯m in possession of incredible wealth.

    Maybe he¡¯s simply lusting after my elf¡¯s impressive wealth. Or maybe he also knows about this Authority. Maybe all the leaders of the kingdom know about it, in some way. Could be what has allowed Quest to remain largely independent through the generations.

    If that¡¯s the case, things are bound to get lively. I imagine all kinds are going to flood the ruins of the city. Spies, opportunists, official agents. Saints, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if a few pirates make their way over from Graywatch. Pillaging wealth is a major defining trait of the people.

    Last but not least is a note from the Hall. Not an invitation to resume my studies, sadly, but a request to arrange a meeting at my earliest convenience. Thank the saints for that. It¡¯d make me sick to have to fight the Harvest Hero. I still admire him. He¡¯s one of the few examples of a true hero I know, that anyone knows. And unlike Quest, I have connections to the Hall. People and places that I care about. Maybe I can visit the Sanctuary, say hi to the Templetees. I wonder what they¡¯d have to say about all of this.

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    So. In the wake of the unspeakable, the great figures of humanity are¡­seeking to parley. Some part of me is disappointed. It¡¯s not that I want trouble but it is, hm, uninspiring that no one is taking a hard stance against me. I don¡¯t want to be denounced but saints know it would make me feel better about them. About all of this and this whole kingdom.

    Though it¡¯s also a comfort. Good to know that people are exactly what I think they are. It makes me feel better about wiping out thousands. It would be much harder to swallow if I had to contend with thoughts of wiping out hundreds and hundreds of future saints or at the very least morally upstanding individuals. Those are few and far between, especially amongst the powerful.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I mumble as I scoop Anna up with one arm while standing, the little beastie giggling. The lounging flocketts perk up as they hear our footfalls, hurrying after us with excited squeaks. ¡°Time to eat, I think. Something light. Don¡¯t want you falling asleep during your lessons.¡±

    I laugh as she groans. ¡°Lady Lou?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°Learn summoning?¡±

    I pause, looking down at her to find serious eyes looking up at me. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s what I want you to do?¡±

    Her little face scrunches up before she shakes her head.

    ¡°Then why?¡±

    She hesitates. Oh no. Is she¡­afraid?

    I quickly adjust my grip, hugging her against my chest. I almost drop the letters in my opposite hand but instead settle for rubbing her back with my thumb. ¡°Hey. I¡¯m not upset or anything.¡± Rather, I¡¯m flattered and more than a bit excited. ¡°I just want to know what¡¯s bouncing around in that cute head of yours.¡± I gently butt her head with my own, making her giggle again. Heh, figured the little beastie would like that. ¡°Whatever it is, it¡¯ll be alright.¡±

    She still looks hesitant, but her little shoulders straighten as she raises her head. ¡°We are Lady Lou¡¯s family.¡±

    Something in my throat tightens, making it a bit difficult to respond. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Tome family summons.¡±

    I bark out a laugh. ¡°Hah! Right again. Really, I feel a bit stupid for asking. You might be smarter than me.¡±

    ¡°Lady Lou is the best!¡± she immediately argues. It warms my heart that I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s how she really feels or if it¡¯s the result of a succubus¡¯ conditioning. ¡°Will you teach me?¡±

    ¡°Of course I will. You¡¯ll do the Tome name proud! In a few years.¡± I cut off her whine. ¡°None of that. You want to learn the Tome way so you follow the Tome rules. That means a whole lot of reading and a few months of practicing, at the very least.¡± Negotiating with elementals is dangerous. There¡¯s no way to separate that danger from the art, and the more I learn the more danger I find, but there are ways to mitigate it. Like not getting children make deals with creatures that would swallow them whole given the slightest chance, flesh and spirit.

    It¡¯s a family rule that someone must be at sixteen before they can attempt their first summoning, under supervision. Twelve successful summonings or eighteen years old before they can attempt a summoning on their own. ¡°Family rules. If we do this, we do this right.¡± I won¡¯t have her being a knockoff like Mr. Self-Made and whatever pitiful souls he¡¯s conned into thinking he¡¯s anything other than a lustful idiot.

    ¡°¡­okay.¡±

    ¡°Trust me, it¡¯s not as bad as it sounds. Most records are entertaining, better than classic stories. The places they describe, the creatures. Beyond imagination.¡± Who could think of a world where there are no continents, only a great sea of liquid fire that swells and explodes upwards in cycles, creating paths to cloud islands? Or creatures with scales as reflective as glass that communicate by refracting light to one another? It¡¯s the kind of fantastical stuff that sparks the imagination and makes a heart beat with excitement. Makes someone look around their own world, looking for some hidden wonder. But they aren¡¯t just stories. Summoners can touch that fantasy, drag bits and pieces of it into our own mundane world.

    That¡¯s what makes it the best thing in the world. Of course I¡¯d share that with her.

    ¡°But that¡¯s for later. If you want me to teach you, you have to do well with the rest of your lessons. Alright?¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-04

    In the wake of the nasty business in the city, everyone in my little clan has found ways to keep busy. Earl and Anna maintain the estate, keeping the floors polished and the windows clear. In the afternoons, they have their lessons, usually with Talia. I encourage them to do something for themselves in the evenings.

    For Anna, that means playing with her flocketts, running amok or training them to do saints know what. Earl is more reserved even with explicit permission to cut loose. The rowdiest he gets is taking walks under the moon but if he isn¡¯t making himself useful, he spends the time meditating in the room they share.

    Our flower is similarly reserved. When she has a free moment, whether during the early hours that even the sun groans at or in the afternoon when everyone else is about and she doesn¡¯t have to be concerned about surprise attacks on the estate, my imp slips out to loot the city, bringing back goodies for Talia. She¡¯s becoming more like a crow, helplessly attracted to all that glitters and gleams.

    Her closet grows by the day and she¡¯s taken to decorating the estate. Nothing much. A painting here. A vase there. Little spots of color that brighten the otherwise bland home. I¡¯m sure if I give her enough time, she¡¯ll transform the place. It¡¯s not even that she likes the Teppin home, I don¡¯t think. More instinctively wanting to surround herself with the color she was deprived of her whole life.

    When she isn¡¯t decorating, she¡¯s practicing. She steals Bell for a few moments and then she practices what she¡¯s learned until her core is empty. Then she circulates her mana. The perfect example of a dedicated caster working to improve herself.

    Alana and Kierra are much the same, though their work is focused on more physical pursuits. They work together as often as they work alone, Kierra strengthening the future knight with her magic in the morning after an intense workout and sparring in the evenings. At night, Kierra disappears into the city to do saints know what, though she calls it surveying, surveying for what I have no idea, but she¡¯s always back for dinner and if she goes out again, she never stays out all night, waking me up when she climbs into bed.

    No matter how often I lose track of the family throughout the day, there¡¯s three times I¡¯m guaranteed to see most if not all of them. Mealtimes. Whatever they¡¯re doing, they pause to indulge in a succubus¡¯ cooking. Lunch is always simple and light, taking into account that people still have a lot of moving to do that wouldn¡¯t appreciate a heavy stomach. Today, it¡¯s a savory smelling soup, a large bowl of salad, and a basket full of soft rolls.

    I¡¯m not the first to the table. Alana is already seated and spooning soup, features slack with enjoyment. Her eyes slowly open as she hears me and Anna enter, the little beastie making a ruckus as she runs to pull out a chair. I never tire of the way my future saint reflexively smiles when she looks at me, though she usually tamps down on it, smoothing the curve to a stern line.

    ¡°You¡¯re here early,¡± I say, taking the seat beside her. One of my hands idly plays with the hair that¡¯s just short of touching her shoulders now as Anna makes me a plate, short arms straining to reach everything on the table. The longer it grows, the more pronounced the curl in the blonde locks becomes.

    ¡°Heading out soon to the camp. Check on Yulia,¡± she says between bites. Her eyes flick to the pile of letters I dropped on the table before sitting down. ¡°Trouble?¡±

    ¡°Trouble. Maybe opportunity too but definitely trouble.¡±

    ¡°Any word from my father?¡±

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    ¡°Actually, there is.¡± I pass along the letter. She¡¯s similarly amused by his offer, letting out a huff of amusement. ¡°Unnecessary, but heartwarming, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°He means it. Send word and the north will wipe out what¡¯s left of the city.¡±

    ¡°A bit unnecessary.¡±

    ¡°Very. He¡¯s just looking for a reason. I imagine he¡¯s heard about what happened to Yulia and Allen. If you hadn¡¯t already leveled Quest, there would already be knights on the way.¡± She puts the letter back on the pile. ¡°The rest?¡±

    ¡°The esteemed leaders of humanity, including several I¡¯ve never heard of.¡± I push the pile closer and she idly pokes through it while I take the first bites of my lunch.

    ¡°They¡¯re paying attention.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be strange if they weren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°So? Figured out what you want to do with the city yet?¡±

    ¡°Have you figured out what you want to do with it yet?¡± I reflect. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m open to ideas.¡±

    ¡°You promised me a castle, not a city.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you can build a castle out of all the rubble.¡±

    Alana chuckles. Then her expression turns pensive. ¡°¡­no. I don¡¯t hate the idea of us ruling a city, but this city isn¡¯t ours. Not in any way that matters.¡± She raises her finger. ¡°The land is firstly owned by the crown and secondly by the people who have paid to use it. Most of the original owners might be dead but ownership would be passed on to their relatives. Relatives that aren¡¯t going to be happy that the woman that killed their fathers and mothers is now stripping them of their legacies.¡±

    She puts up a second finger. ¡°Which leads into the bigger problem, the people. Unless you plan on evicting every resident of the city and starting a fight with the Halll, you need the people. Maybe you can scare them into line for a while but it¡¯d only be  a matter of time until they rebelled and destroyed whatever you built. And that¡¯s just the common people. The guilds no doubt have a grudge that¡¯s going to persist through generations. They¡¯ll make sure the people stay angry at you.¡±

    A third finger goes up. ¡°And the biggest reason I don¡¯t want anything to do with this broken city is the politics. Quest was an important city. Anyone that takes over can make it an important city again and that comes with attention. These little notices would only be the tip of the mountain. Not unless you spill a whole lot more blood. Finally¡ª"

    She drops her hand and scowls. ¡°No offense, Lou but you¡¯re a beacon for trouble. I just can¡¯t imagine things going well if we stay. You¡¯re going to get into it with someone and the only two available opponents are the king and the Harvest Hero.¡±

    I wince. ¡°Good points. So, your vote is running. To the north?¡±

    She makes a face like a kid tasting a hated food. Cute. ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you don¡¯t need to convince me. But if we¡¯re not taking over then we can¡¯t stay.¡± That¡¯s asking for the trouble she says I¡¯m so fond of. ¡°I¡¯m thinking south.¡±

    ¡°Why not west?¡±

    Only thing west is the coast. ¡°Saints¡¯ blessed asses. Graywatch? Really?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°King won¡¯t try to come for you there. And I don¡¯t think it¡¯s illegal to kill people in the streets if the guilds try to assassinate you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure anything is illegal in that cesspool. You¡¯d lose your mind.¡±

    She rolls her eyes. ¡°I do have self-control.¡±

    ¡°I will bet you everything I own that you try to cut someone down or punch them out in a day. A single day.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d give me everything you own anyway.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Getting a little full of yourself.¡±

    She raises a brow. ¡°Problem?¡±

    Please. ¡°You know I love it. Why the Gray? Why not a little village before reaching there or the empty south?¡±

    ¡°You enjoy it too much. The chaos.¡±

    I gape at her. Try to respond but come up short. Try again and manage to speak. ¡°I didn¡¯t enjoy any of this.¡±

    ¡°Not while you were in it. But tell me, honestly.¡± Those sharp eyes dig into me. ¡°Now that¡¯s it over and you¡¯ve won and the whole kingdom is kissing your feet¡­are you not enjoying it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­not a lot¡­barely at all.¡± I sigh under her unwavering and unconvinced gaze. ¡°Alright. Being on top feels good but it¡¯s too much of a hassle to get here.¡±

    ¡°At least in Graywatch, they have a culture that respects strength. I doubt it¡¯ll take a full-fledged massacre for us to be left alone and we don¡¯t have to hide out in the middle of nowhere.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an idea.¡±

    She hums in agreement as she stands. When did she finish scarfing down her food? ¡°I don¡¯t much care as long as it¡¯s not somewhere freezing cold. We¡¯ll have plenty of that to deal with in winter.¡± A thrill of delight makes me shiver as she grabs my chin and steals my lips. ¡°Got to go. Don¡¯t start a war without me.¡±

    ¡°Have fun.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-05

    While the people of Quest might find it hard to believe, I¡¯m not invincible.

    Since the day of my divine transformation, I¡¯ve discovered a few limitations to my new body. Firstly, while I can recover from any injury with a simple transformation, each transformation consumes my ooze. The bigger the change, the more ooze it takes.

    Secondly, while my oozey base form is impervious to almost all forms of attack, strong enough magic can pierce those defenses. A titan proved that. And while I disengaged before it could do any real damage, just the fact that I was able to feel it¡¯s magic is a bad sign.

    So. The campaign proved that I¡¯m not invincible. Which is very bad news. I was kind of counting on magic immunity when I made big plans to face down dragons and I don¡¯t have that. It¡¯s going to take more than my natural advantages if I want to face them, though I¡¯d rather not if I can help it. Saints, I¡¯ll need more than that to cross the north and make it to the estrazi warren. More than that to meet who I suspect is my sibling in chaos. Cosmo¡¯s first agent, Ezossoa.

    I¡¯ve also awakened to the idea that the stronger I am, the better protected the people important to me are. Not in the literal sense, because that¡¯s obvious. Right now, no one in the city would dare think about kidnapping my family again. I¡¯d be amazed if someone looks them in the eye. And that is a trend I want to spread to the whole of Harvest. No, the whole world.

    It¡¯s not enough to be strong. I must be overwhelming. Overshadowing. As immutable as a natural law, inevitable as the sun rising and falling.

    ¡­probably too much. But as someone once said, shoot enough arrows and you¡¯re bound to hit something eventually.

    I¡¯m on a journey of self-improvement. Not Kierra¡¯s basic training or the simple initiate classes. I need to maximize all my potential. Every form I can take and all seven affinities. The key to both is knowledge. Of myself, of the world, and of spellcraft. Thankfully, though they¡¯ve been woefully neglected, I have the best resources to obtain said mastery of self. The succubi.

    If any being can help rival the natural rulers of the world in less than a year, it¡¯s them but I have to be careful of their help. Letting them into my mind is like carving the information into my head with a knife. Expedient, sure, but one wrong move, one imperfect order, and I¡¯m as good as dead. Probably worse, knowing them. Killing me would be wasteful.

    I have an idea about that but it¡¯ll have to wait until Geneva is finished with her errand. In the meantime, I¡¯m emulating my servants. In the afternoons, I¡¯ve taken to sitting behind the large desk in the study and, well¡­studying. Natural laws, affinities, and the places where they intersect.

    What makes a dual or triple affinity caster scary? The ability to use spells that combine their elements. Otherwise, two or three casters with a single affinity would be their equal. However, to even begin to understand how to combine said affinities through magic, I need to understand how they interact in the world.

    Moments after sitting in the big chair, Bell comes scampering into the room, agilely leaping onto the upper left corner of the desk. And then, with a flash of color, Rolly appears between us, thin gossamer wings moving so fast they¡¯re a blur and tiny body a vibrant mix of yellows and oranges.

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    ¡°Who¡¯s ready to play Elements and Interactions?¡± the lueorale exclaims before giggling, kicking her little legs gleefully.

    It makes me smile but I can¡¯t work up even a fraction of her energy. ¡°You said you¡¯d work on the name.¡±

    ¡°A good name takes inspiration. It¡¯ll come to me. More importantly, it¡¯s time to have fun as we learn. Right, Bell?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    A part of me hates this. They¡¯re treating me like a child and it¡¯s grating. However, it¡¯s hard to complain when it¡¯s necessary. There is something about the combination of pertinent information and the cadence a voice naturally slips into when lecturing that turns my brain off. The games, the big voice, the lights. It¡¯s embarrassing but it keeps my attention and makes the information stick. I¡¯ll have a better plan going forward but for now, it¡¯s what works.

    Light sparkles around Rolly as she does a performative twirl. ¡°Then let¡¯s start!¡± The sparkles gather in front of me, forming a glittery cloud before splitting in two. ¡°As always, we¡¯ll start with something simple. Fire and water can makeeee?¡±

    I resist the urge to sigh. I can¡¯t believe I enjoyed this at first. Let¡¯s see. There¡¯re a few ways this can go but I think we¡¯ll go with¡­ ¡°Ice.¡±

    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re taking away the heat this time.¡± The two glittery clouds come back together and a hazy picture of ice floats in front of me.

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    ¡°Your tutor wants to make things interesting!¡± A glittery cloud appears next to the ice. ¡°Ice and null makeeee?¡±

    ¡°Projectile.¡± For as much as its prized, the null affinity only has one application in combat. Movement. Moving things faster, moving things slower. Moving things out of the way or moving them into the way. It has a lot more uses, aptly demonstrated by Kierra¡¯s mother, but all of them are well beyond me and not high on my list of priorities.

    The clouds come together and the block of ice turns into an arrow.

    ¡°Coo.¡±

    Another cloud. ¡°Ice projectile and light makeeee?¡±

    ¡°Invisible projectile.¡±

    ¡°Invisible ice projectile and earth makeeee?¡±

    Hm. ¡°¡­invisible ice projectile hidden in visible earth projectiles.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the way! Okay. Storm of projectiles with a surprise plus air and fire makeeee?¡±

    ¡°Exploding projectiles with a surprise.¡±

    On and on it goes. With each question, the flashes of light become more obnoxious, the congratulations of my elementals more grating. It¡¯s an effective exercise. A crucial one, I¡¯d dare say. But I can¡¯t focus. The frustration builds and builds until I interrupt Rolly¡¯s light show by slamming a fist into the desk, cracking the thick wood. The pictures and sparkles disappear but Rolly¡¯s yellow coloring, which I¡¯m pretty sure represents amusement, doesn¡¯t fade or shift in the slightest.

    ¡°Careful,¡± she says with a chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s already the third and replacing it isn¡¯t as simple as walking down to the furniture store.¡±

    I flex my hand. It¡¯s probably a bad thing that I keep hitting things, right? ¡°¡­this isn¡¯t working. I need a break.¡±

    ¡°Nuh-uh. You needed a break yesterday. You need a solution.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose one of those will fall from the sky into my lap?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± Bell leaps from the corner of the desk, landing in my lap. Four ruby eyes look up at me. {Allow me, my master.}

    ¡°Keep those cute little mitts to yourself.¡±

    She lets out a dejected coo, playing on my heart, but when I remain steadfast, the act fades. {Then allow me to present the next best action.}

    Do I want to trust your next best option?

    A few moments later, there is a knock on the door. The person doesn¡¯t wait for me to call them in. Bell jumps out of my lap as Talia walks into the room. Rolly disappears with another giggle as our flower walks around the desk, her stony face morphing into a perfect pout, the expression given extra power for its rarity.

    ¡°Poor Lou,¡± she whispers, one hand reaching up to stroke my cheek. ¡°Are you hurting?¡±

    I take her hand and nuzzle it. I don¡¯t know why but she¡¯s always a little cool to the touch. It¡¯s nice. ¡°Just feeling a little out of it.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Do you want to talk about it?¡±

    A part of me wants to. She¡¯s proved a great confidante and I¡¯m going to have to deal with it eventually. Eventually, but not today. ¡°No.¡±

    She beckons me to my feet with gentle force. I let her guide me out of the room. ¡°Then let me make it better.¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-06

    Like the rest of the house, the bedroom has signs of Talia¡¯s meddling. Notably, the change in covers on the bed. White and blue silk sheets that are just a touch cooler than Talia¡¯s skin. Spring still has a long jaunt till summer, not that my body notices the temperature much, but it¡¯s refreshing. Easy to follow her lead as she urges me to lie back.

    ¡°Get a little more comfortable,¡± she says, taking the lead by untying the belt of her robe and shrugging it off. I kick off my boots and pull off my shirt. In a second, I¡¯m naked, impatient but appreciative of Talia¡¯s much slower stripping. She lets her robe fall to the floor, dropping her lacy undergarments, Kierra originals, on top of it before unpinning her long hair, shaking it out. Those beautifully strange eyes look at me and her more natural expression of amusement, which is barely any expression at all, fractionally curves the corner of her lips.

    ¡°Softer.¡±

    I swallow. Then I reach for the list always lurking in the back of my mind. Somehow, no matter how long it grows, I never forget one of the options or struggle to pick what I want from it. It remains as instinctual as breathing. With a thought, I transform.

    I¡¯m me, the original me. My body feels heavier and the world is muted. It¡¯s uncomfortable but it gets a lot better when Talia climbs onto the bed, knees on either side of me, hair forming a curtain that blocks the murky light that makes it through the shades. ¡°There,¡± she says in a sultry voice. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that feel better?¡±

    Guilt twists in my gut. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to let go. To relax.¡± She kisses my forehead. I¡¯m annoyed that it causes warm fuzzies to bloom in my chest. ¡°Sometimes.¡±

    Then she kisses me again and my lecherous mind works in my favor, easily shoving aside my worries. Normally, Talia is the delicate one who needs to be treated with extra care but, like this, our strength and means are more or less equal. I don¡¯t mind doing most of the work, take pride in it really, but there¡¯s something to be said for equal participation that isn¡¯t a wrestling match. It¡¯s not as intense, mind-erasing and world-ringing intense like it is when Kierra is allowed to do as she pleases, but it¡¯s nice. Soft, as she says.

    Also unlike my savage elf, Talia doesn¡¯t get right to the deed. Once we get comfortable, myself propped up on several pillows and Talia lying between my legs, she takes her time exploring my mouth. Kissing, licking, and sucking. Not biting. That¡¯d be too aggressive for the flower. She teases, entices. And she comforts.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°Shame on these hunters, bullying a lady only trying to care for her family.¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t in the wrong.¡±

    ¡°The future will be better.¡±

    ¡°We love you.¡±

    She whispers and she kisses and the hard anger inside me softens. Still refuses to move but it gets a little more comfortable. Little bit easier to bear. I don¡¯t answer her with words, just sighs and nudges, encouraging her to move beyond the gentle touches. Nice as her pampering is, I am still interested in my ending. She follows the direction, hand sliding down my front and¡ª

    ¡°YOU DARE!¡±

    I don¡¯t think. In a second, I¡¯m back in my prime form, Talia is rolled behind me, and I throw myself at the intruder in the room before I can even recognize them. My mind conjured a vision of a scruffy hunter, knife-in-hand and expression twisted with rage. My thoughts stall as that image is shattered by the presence of a green skinned man dressed in leather pants and a vest of fur, given a second to think as he grabs me by throat and squeezes.

    ¡°YOU¡ª"

    I cut him off with an impressive display of strength and flexibility, kicking him with all the power I can muster in my compromised position. If it were a hunter, the blow would have snapped his neck at the very least. Maybe knocked his head off his shoulders. The green man doesn¡¯t even flinch, though his lip is bleeding. The grip on my neck tightens, hard enough that it starts to hurt.

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    ¡°Impudent human. I should¡ª"

    I shed my prime form, becoming purple ooze. I intended to break his grip by expanding but it¡¯s unnecessary. The green man recoils at my transformation, jumping toward the side, next to¡­next to a woman with violet skin, familiar silver hair, and green eyes.

    Wait. A green man. A familiar green man with long ears. Oh saints.

    As if Cosmo himself declared that the situation wasn¡¯t awkward enough, the door is slammed open, Kierra bursting into the room while breathing heavily. A second later, Bell appears at her heels.

    Her narrowed eyes immediately find her mother, but they widen with shock, a rare expression from her, as they land on the man. ¡°Patre?¡±

    ¡°Kii!¡± the green giant, he¡¯s ridiculously tall, bellows before launching himself across the room and scooping her up. My lovely barbarian is the picture of confusion as she lets herself be embraced. He natters at her in the chirping, lyrical language of the elves until Kierra complains.

    ¡°In Common, Father. There are others.¡±

    Ah. I should probably transform back.

    This whole time, Morgene Atainna has never stopped looking at me. Her expression is naked interest that is uncomfortable in its intensity. I clear my throat, but she doesn¡¯t so much as twitch. ¡°Ah¡­good to see you again¡­mother-in-law?¡±

    ¡°Morgene will do,¡± she says. Ugh, it¡¯s like being eyed by a snake. ¡°I suspected there was more to you than a simple human to interest my daughter. I¡¯m glad to see my judgment and my daughter¡¯s remains intact.¡±

    ¡°Thank you?¡±

    ¡°What are you?¡±

    ¡°Mother!¡± Kierra manages to escape her father who keeps trying to drag her into a hug. ¡°Leave my bonded alone. And what are the two of you doing here? It is rude to use your magic to invade private homes.¡±

    Morgene doesn¡¯t scoff. Not with sound. Doesn¡¯t even frown. Somehow, she manages to communicate her disdain with her eyes alone. ¡°Surely, my daughter isn¡¯t rejecting a visit from her dear mother that has traveled a literal continent to see her.¡±

    ¡°I am. Get out.¡±

    Amazingly, that makes her smile. ¡°Not yet. In hindsight, I didn¡¯t spend enough time with you and your¡­mate. A problem I¡¯d like to rectify.¡±

    ¡°You.¡± The green man, no, Kierra¡¯s father glares at me. Thankfully, they only share the same shade of skin and their height. Not that he¡¯s ugly. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen an unattractive elf. They aren¡¯t all stunningly attractive like my wife or her mother, but I doubt they¡¯d get turned away by anyone with taste. He¡¯s handsome for a man, with a strong chin and heavy brow. Traits I can¡¯t imagine on my lover. Ah, he¡¯s angry. Is this the long-standing tradition of the disapproving father? I thought I was spared that.

    My own father might have blinked twice at my marriage but he got over his reservations amazingly quick when I mentioned Kierra and royalty in the same sentence. Opportunistic man.

    Dead opportunistic man.

    ¡°I wanted to see the human that snatched my daughter, a future queen, from her people, from her home. I expected to be disappointed. Yet, you surpass all expectations. I find an abomination in bed with another woman while my daughter is out bettering herself.¡±

    ¡°Father¡ª"

    ¡°I am taking my daughter home¡ª"

    ¡°You do not¡ª"

    ¡°I said I¡¯m taking you home. And if anyone tries to stop me, then I will meet them in combat! Even you, daughter!¡±

    Kierra makes a sound between a screech and a roar. ¡°Fine. If the two of you insist¡ª"

    ¡°No.¡±

    The room turns to me, well, the other two because Morgene still hasn¡¯t taken her eyes off me. I ignore the angry brown eyes of Kierra¡¯s father as I walk up to him. If this were a few weeks earlier, I would have steeled myself for a conflict, simply accepting it as the elves¡¯ way. Now? I¡¯m too tired for this. He¡¯s family, dammit. The only father I have left. I¡¯ll be damned to the Abyss before I let this grudge fester in a brawl.

    And if it becomes a fight anyway, there will only be one.

    I force a smile but think better of it and quash it as I stick out my hand. ¡°Good to meet you. I¡¯m Lourianne Tome, the woman who loves your daughter very much and the woman your daughter has agreed to spend her life with. You don¡¯t get a say in that. If you try to take her against her will, I will shatter you like I did this city when they threatened her. However, I would love to get to you know you and grow closer as a family. Please don¡¯t make this difficult.¡±

    The room is silent as he regards me. Then, ¡°You are responsible for the city¡¯s ruin?¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t give me a choice.¡±

    More silence. Then, ¡°And the woman?¡±

    Talia has been perfectly quiet since the elves appeared in our room. Hasn¡¯t even moved. Barely breathes. She doesn¡¯t even raise her head despite the room addressing her, her bowed head and relaxed shoulders completely submissive.

    Kierra moves around me to stand in front of her, stance protective. ¡°My flower. Who you are scaring.¡±

    To his credit, her father immediately frowns and I¡¯m sure the expression is directed at himself before he speaks. ¡°How do¡­yes. I apologize.¡±

    My protective wife relaxes at his admission. The tension in the room drops and I have hope that everything is going to turn out alright.

    ¡°Oh? Is that the extent of your determination? I admit, I¡¯m disappointed Orum.¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-07

    I don¡¯t know much about elven culture.

    Not that I¡¯m not curious. I¡¯ve dabbled in the language, though I¡¯m far from fluent. I¡¯ve embraced the elven aesthetic when decorating. Kierra tells me stories about her childhood and the other provinces, mostly warnings. A lot of warnings. Saints, a disturbing number of warnings. It¡¯s the main reason I¡¯m fighting the idea of fleeing to the other side of the Enchanted Forest. But all my knowledge is superficial.

    I know they¡¯re violent. I know why, owing to the myth of their creation. They fight to become strong and they seek strength to honor the Great Spirit that made the elves what they are. However, I know nothing of this spirit besides it supposedly lives in a big tree in the middle of their continent. I don¡¯t know what it looks like. What other roles it plays in their society. Anything else regarding their religion. I know their whole lives are an act of worship for the fighters but what about the tradesmen? The merchants? The artisans and performers? They can¡¯t all decorate their walls with skulls.

    I know next to nothing about their leadership. Kierra¡¯s aunt, Marjoram Atainna, is the queen of Dusk, called Violet Dusk to honor her. She became queen because Morgene refused the duty on pain of death. Succeeding the crown has less to do with blood than personal strength but both mean Kierra can one day rule her home province.

    Except, I have no idea what that means. All it takes is a single glance to know that elven royalty isn¡¯t the same as human royalty. I also have no idea if their duties are the same. A province isn¡¯t a kingdom. I doubt they have the same laws. I don¡¯t know if an elven monarch has the same responsibilities, ergo protection, development of the province, and protection against internal and external threats.

    Saints help me, their culture is beyond confusing. Barbarism is just a shroud that obfuscates the deeper, spiritual practices. Like our union. Most people will hear the ¡°stab your partner in the heart¡± and dismiss the elves as psychos. Having gone through it, I know it¡¯s more about trust and vulnerability, not blood. I want to think everything has more meaning than spilling blood. Even Morgene¡¯s provocations. Unfortunately, I can¡¯t see any.

    Fortunately, Kierra¡¯s father, I¡¯m still shocked to have him before me, doesn¡¯t rise to the taunting. He frowns at her words, but all his ire is directed at his wife. Oh, wow. He¡¯s got the same frown as Kierra. ¡°If I¡¯m defying your expectations, then I know it¡¯s the right path.¡± Ouch. My mirth is short lived, pushed aside by tension as that familiar frown is turned on me. ¡°I will test the one who dares to think she is deserving of my daughter, but it will be done with restraint and respect. These are not the bad times.¡±

    ¡°The bad times?¡± Morgene scoffs. ¡°Some would call them glorious times.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing glorious about fearing your entire family being slaughtered because you caught the wrong eye!¡± Orum snaps. ¡°Will you be quiet for a moment?¡±

    ¡°Make me,¡± Morgene practically purrs. I really hope no one notices how I react to the way she says it but given the monsters in the room, I don¡¯t hold out any hope.

    ¡°Mother,¡± Kierra sighs.

    ¡°You¡¯d enjoy that, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Orum sighs with the exact same note of exasperation. ¡°She has been trying to goad me into a duel the entire journey.¡±

    ¡°There was little else to do.¡± During our time in Dusk, I didn¡¯t get to spend much time with Morgene. We spent the first night alone and the ceremony was held the next morning. After that, we returned to Kierra¡¯s tree to celebrate our union. All I know of Morgene, I had to piece together from Kierra¡¯s tense welcome home, our subsequent conversation in her home, and Kierra¡¯s few stories. None of those prepared me for how much of a¡­brat Morgene is.

    Really, I should have expected this. Throwing your daughter in a cage for multiple decades along with the source of a major trauma haunting her is not the action of an understanding, mature woman. She¡¯s no fool, one look into those sharp eyes is enough to know that, but strict to the point of pain? Stubborn to the point that she¡¯ll break you before bending her views? Arrogant to the height that her nose is level with the top of the Bleak Peaks? She¡¯s all that and more.

    Worse, she doesn¡¯t have a me to soften her. Kierra listens. She¡¯s willing to change.

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    The Abyss will swallow the sun before Morgene changes.

    She is a savage, through and through. She wants blood. Being told she will not have it, she¡¯s¡­saints, I hesitate to call a woman that could be literal centuries old and more powerful than I can imagine petulant. I hesitate, but given her pout, it feels very appropriate.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect much from humans but somehow, your people have exceeded my incredible expectations for disappointment,¡± the violet elf huffs. ¡°There is no ingenuity, no beauty, and no creativity to be found. Living in ugly little hovels made of dead wood and mud. So weak that dumb beasts are needed to do their labor. Harvesting cheap crops no different from common grass. Truly, do you all have brains? The world gives you power, you cultivate it, and then do nothing with it?¡± She scoffs.

    ¡°It is a fallacy of the short-lived,¡± Orum says. ¡°They have so little time, all they can focus on is their own lives. All their power is dedicated to preserving their lives and continuing their bloodline. They don¡¯t have the vision to see their environment.¡±

    ¡°Their kingdom is young,¡± Kierra says weakly. Inwardly, I thank her for the attempt.

    ¡°Ridiculous. I refuse to believe they have no healers capable of extending their lives by a few decades, it is the first great mystery that all with the power over life try to unravel. That frees them from the chain of mortality, but even without it, there are means to motivate progress. That is the purpose of culture. Of tradition.¡±

    ¡°Our traditions are all about screwing ourselves,¡± I say with a laugh. No one else thinks it¡¯s funny.

    ¡°I originally came to watch Orum make a fool of himself, as he always does when Kii is involved, but the more I walked this land, the more I found myself agreeing with him. At least until I saw my spirit daughter do such an interesting trick.¡± Saints. The way she¡¯s looking at me makes my skin crawl. ¡°It makes far more sense now that I see my daughter did not fall for a human at all. Shame on you, Kii, not sharing such fun information with your mother.¡±

    ¡°That is because I know how you are,¡± Kierra grumbles.

    ¡°I would very much like to know what your lover is.¡±

    I take a step toward Kierra and she obligingly puts herself between me and her mother. Orum also helps by putting a hand on her shoulder. I¡¯m surprised that rather than shrug it off, or something drastic like punching him in the face, Morgene relaxes. Practically leans into it.

    Ah, they¡¯re unified. Morgene underwent a ceremony proclaiming she wants to spend the rest of her night with this man. That means something different with the elves, as their idea of settling down is very different from the average citizen of Harvest¡¯s, but that means she must like him. Love him maybe? That¡¯s kind of hard to imagine.

    ¡°I have a suggestion.¡±

    Talia speaks her first words since their sudden appearance. Her head remains bowed as the room turns to her, but there is a stillness to her. She¡¯s calm. Relaxed, even. She¡¯s not afraid. Perfect flower that she is, she is trusting in our ability to control the situation and keep her safe.

    The thought makes me straighten my shoulders and step out from behind Kierra, putting me at her side and offering another layer of protection for Talia. Morgene unnerves me, for good saints damned reasons, but I¡¯m not going to fail that trust. Not when I¡¯m perfectly capable of living up to it.

    ¡°Our clan seeks a deeper understanding of each other. The traditions of our people are different and too deeply rooted to say one is better than the other. It is an impossible decision because we are both. I suggest we proceed with both. First dinner and discussion. Then a respectful bout to satisfy the elders¡¯ curiosity. Combat with rules and stipulations, so it serves to bring the clan closer rather than divide us.¡±

    Orum grunts. ¡°As always, the flowers are the ones who speak the most sense.¡±

    More than he knows. Trying to sway the elves from violence entirely is a losing value, it¡¯s too tightly interwoven to who they are. However, making them fight after a nice dinner and conversation is a masterstroke. No one can be angry with a belly full of good food in them and if Orum talks to me, he¡¯ll see me as a person rather than a strange interloper who stole his daughter. The anger in my belly swirls with discontent but I ignore it in favor of pride. Talia really is amazing. I owe that woman something nice.

    ¡°Stay,¡± I half ask, half order, throwing every ounce of personality and persuasion I have into it. ¡°We¡¯ll give you a proper welcome. Orum, I¡¯m sure you want to talk to your daughter. Morgene, you have questions. We have good drink and better food.¡±

    One thing I will say in their favor. Neither are creatures of hesitation.

    ¡°We will commune and then we will do battle.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. It has been too long since I¡¯ve had a decent meal. You know your father is a terrible cook. Still eats his meat raw when he can¡¯t be bothered to prepare it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you remember your mother isn¡¯t much of a cook herself. When you asked for a cake to celebrate your tenth birthday, she stole it. You know, before she learned to use her affinity in battle, she skulked around as a lowly thief.¡±

    ¡°Lowly? I held the world in my hand. Better than the man who had to be physically restrained when she asked to go on a solo hunt for her twelfth birthday. They could hear you wailing for your precious daughter the next village over. It took her a week to come home because you scared away all the prey.¡±

    ¡­they really are married.

    ¡°Lou.¡± I turn my head to look at Talia. ¡°I would like to make a request.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°I would like to invite my mentor to meet our clan.¡±

    Eh?

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-08

    Being a noble comes with certain expectations. Power and wealth are the big ones, both inheriting it and pursuing it. Responsibility is a distant third, for most. There are the odd counts and barons that are the comically pure-hearted leaders that treat their citizens like extended families. Maybe I¡¯m a cynic, but good intentions like those just aren¡¯t maintainable when governing a territory of thousands. That¡¯s too many people to know personally, too many problems to become personally invested. At some point, people become numbers.

    Marriage is another big obligation of nobility. It¡¯s an integral part of government, really. They¡¯re used to forge alliances, preserve bloodlines, and even to smooth over problems. A good marriage can be the foundation for change. It opens communications between territories. Can facilitate trade. Be the basis of an exchange of information, both magical and scholarly, secrets held in families for generations brought to light.

    Most noble children understand that marriage is a duty, not a lifelong quest for fulfillment. Doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re an inheriting son or a seventh daughter. The only exceptions are those with enough personal power, magical or otherwise, to refuse and even then, they risk alienating their family. A harsh price to pay for avoiding popping out a kid or two. Especially when mistresses and pretty boys are both prevalent and accepted, as long as they are handled with the proper discretion. It¡¯s just the way things are done.

    I thought my life would be the same, hitched to some average-looking, average-thinking, average-everything nobody that had enough money and/or influence to benefit the family but not so much he made our Grimoire overlords nervous. I¡¯d drop a kid, who I might or might not resent, and then throw myself into summoning. Or excessive drinking. Or summoning and excessive drinking, a bad combination.

    Part of that was the expectation that I would have to make nice with another family, one that didn¡¯t understand the Tome ways and would probably be just as disappointed with the match. In other words, an uphill battle.

    Saints, I had no idea.

    I¡¯m a mess as I ride through the city I broke on the way to the Grand Hall. Inwardly. Outwardly, I like to think that I appear to be calm and in control. Not at all concerned about meeting Talia¡¯s adoptive father in all but name.

    Understandably, the fact that Baron Remmings, accomplished mental caster and head interrogator, came to visit his heart daughter and only disciple slipped my mind. While we were away battling titans, he dropped in on our flower, ready to drag her back to the capital. Must be something in the water with all these fathers crossing great distances to drag errant daughters back to their supposed duties.

    To be fair to Orum, he¡¯s far more understanding than I would expect from the man that married Morgene and raised Kierra, but that¡¯s supposedly a new trend, owed to his journey of self-discovery he took after Kierra¡¯s imprisonment. And Lord Remmings is a darn sight more reasonable than him. It¡¯s hard to imagine, but he accepted her decision not to take over for him. He¡¯s stuck around to change her mind, which I don¡¯t think is unreasonable. No threats to drag her back. No attempts to stick his fingers in her mind and scramble what¡¯s inside. Makes the man practically a saint in my book.

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    If Talia is as nervous as I am, she¡¯s doing a masterful job hiding it. Her expression is as expressive as ice, her eyes closed as she relaxes on the plush cushions of my custom carriage. She enjoys dressing up these days but she¡¯s more dressed than usual; a salvaged yellow dress with white underskirts, laundered till it gleams, a white ribbon tying up her hair, and a delicate silver brooch around her neck. She makes for a cheery picture, which is the point. She wants to show her life-long guardian that she¡¯s very happy with her chosen partners. I think the bright colors are also supposed to distract him from the gloomy aftermath of my rampage, but I don¡¯t have much hope of that.

    ¡°There¡¯s really nothing you can tell me to get on the interrogator¡¯s good side?¡± I ask again.

    ¡°Short of allowing him to peruse your mind at will, there is nothing that will make him like you,¡± she says breezily. ¡°It¡¯s best not to worry about it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m worrying.¡±

    Her lips turn up the tiniest fraction. ¡°What can he do to you?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. But you want us to get along, right?¡± It¡¯s important to her and that makes me worry about messing it up.

    ¡°I would prefer that he accepts us and your generosity. I owe him and, as you know, I am someone that pays her debts. If he rejects you, then he is the only one who will suffer.¡±

    That¡¯s a relief. ¡°Do you think he¡¯s likely to? Reject me, us, you know?¡±

    ¡°He has expressed nothing but disapproval so far.¡±

    I wince. ¡°He needs to change his mind.¡± Because if he doesn¡¯t come to dinner tonight, he¡¯s not just throwing an insult in my face. He¡¯ll be insulting Kierra¡¯s parents, who are expecting the clan to sit down and parley. They¡¯ve set aside their violent impulses to have a civil conversation, they fully expect Lord Remmings to do the same. If he doesn¡¯t, he refuses to meet them on neutral ground, that¡¯s an inherently hostile action. A threat. I don¡¯t want to imagine how either of those two will react to being threatened, even peripherally.

    ¡°Then you will need to be very convincing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot to put on me. You¡¯re his daughter. Aren¡¯t fathers supposed to dote on those?¡±

    ¡°Did your father dote on you?¡±

    ¡°¡­good point. I promise I¡¯ll get him to dinner.¡± Even if I have to knock him out and kidnap him.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    Hah. That unconditional belief really does something before me. I never understood why the smaller nobles surrounded themselves with ass kissers, useless people who did nothing but praise their every action, no matter how good or bad it was. Now, I get it. ¡°Come here.¡±

    She obediently slips into my open arms, climbing onto my lap. Doesn¡¯t open her eyes but I can feel her attention focused on me. ¡°Talking to Lord Remmings isn¡¯t going to be easier if I show up looking ruffled.¡±

    ¡°Probably not but it¡¯d be funny, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Whatever pleases you, Lou.¡±

    My hand crawls along her side. ¡°Do you ever get tired of it?¡±

    ¡°Of what?¡±

    My hand migrates to the back of her neck, holding it lightly. She sighs. It¡¯s not enjoyment or exasperation. Just the acknowledgment of the touch and what it means. ¡°Pretending.¡±

    My fingers start to massage, touch light as I can make it. Her next sigh is a little deeper. This time it is inspired by pleasure. ¡°It¡¯s not a hard part to play,¡± she whispers. ¡°You treat me well.¡±

    ¡°You can live without me. Live well without me.¡±

    ¡°I choose you,¡± she moans as I increase the pressure. ¡°If you are worried that it could be the wrong decision, make sure I don¡¯t regret it.¡±

    Huh. Breaking character a bit? Or is she fine tuning her performance for me? It¡¯s obvious to anyone with eyes that I like a little arrogance. And I think she¡¯s taking a liking to running things in the bedroom, which is no surprise. She likes control, of herself and her surroundings. Yet, she follows my hand as I urge her to lie down on the bench.

    We¡¯ve got time to kill and I¡¯ve got enough self-control not to rip anything. Maybe.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-09

    ¡°My lady. The acolytes wish to search the carriage.¡±

    I raise my head from between Talia¡¯s chest and still my hand. Beneath me, the normally expressionless flower is flushed, breathing labored as she drags in harsh breaths, her hands pressed against the wall opposite of the door. I grin at the sight of the quivering woman. Something about shrugging off my prime form is relaxing in a way I can¡¯t describe but having a willing, desperate woman under me never gets old. Or any less exciting.

    ¡°Stay,¡± I demand, fighting to keep the smile out of my voice. With her eyes squeezed shut, she can¡¯t tell and take me at her tone, shifting about to make herself more comfortable. My custom carriage is meant to be accommodating but there¡¯s only so much that can be done for a box on wheels. I take a moment to straighten my appearance before opening the door, putting myself in the opening.

    Standing outside is Earl, hair combed and uniform impeccable. Compared to the wide-eyed, stained robed wearing acolytes with their unkempt hair and the bags under their eyes, he¡¯s a beacon of order and hygiene. The Hall must be being ran ragged if this is the image they¡¯re showing. It¡¯s a bit embarrassing. I don¡¯t blame them for the fear I can literally smell coming off them in waves. I do think less of them for showing it after going out of their way to stop me. I don¡¯t believe they didn¡¯t recognize the crest on the side of this carriage. If you¡¯re just going to sit there like rabbits before a hunting hound, why bother me?

    One of the acolytes clears his throat noisily and tries to project a strong figure, straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest. It¡¯s like watching a puppy growl. Nothing in the least bit threatening about it, no matter what the little beastie is imagining. ¡°Please exit the vehicle,¡± he says and I inwardly applaud him for not stuttering over his words.

    ¡°No.¡±

    My answer clearly confuses him. Has no one refused him to his face before? ¡°If you don¡¯t consent to a search, then we cannot allow you to¡ª"

    ¡°Stop.¡± His teeth click in his haste to close his mouth. ¡°You¡¯re not searching my carriage. Ah.¡± I hold up a hand to forestall whatever nonsense he¡¯s about to say. ¡°This has nothing to do with you or the Hall. I¡¯m just very short on trust now. I assume you have some way to contact someone up top?¡± The acolyte nods with a stern frown. ¡°What you need to do is call your boss. Ask them if you should make an issue with me or let me get on with my business. Earl, get us back underway as soon as he gets the confirmation.¡±

    My steward bows.

    ¡°Wait¡ª"

    ¡°Make the call. You¡¯ll see I¡¯m doing you a favor.¡± I close the door on his sputters.

    Amusing as it is to leave him at a loss for words, I mean what I say. My trust is worn thin. Too thin to tolerate people I don¡¯t know and are likely hostile poke around my carriage, inside or out. On the surface, the Hall isn¡¯t allied with the guilds but I¡¯m not naive enough to think that the acolytes don¡¯t have a thing against me. The school is intimately connected to the city. The acolytes come down for work and fun. I don¡¯t doubt that plenty of them lost friends and family in this conflict.

    I don¡¯t know much about loss, but I do know that grief isn¡¯t an emotion that cares about logic. I doubt anyone with a grudge against me is going to sit down and examine all the angles or care about how I was driven to do what I did. All they¡¯ll care about is the consequences, which I don¡¯t blame them for. It¡¯s my fault I¡¯m surrounded by enemies and uncertainties. It¡¯d be stupid to pretend I¡¯m not.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    As always, Talia follows instructions perfectly and hasn¡¯t moved a muscle. It¡¯s a beautiful sight¡­but there¡¯s no more time to enjoy it. I trail a finger through the valley of her chest, sighing in regret as I retract it. ¡°Time to tidy yourself up.¡±

    Graceful as a waterbird, she sits up and begins to fix her dress with deft motions. Her red face gives the impression of a blushing maiden, but her blank expression distorts the image, making it strange and a bit incomprehensible. A twist that is uniquely her.

    ¡°Ready to make a good impression?¡± I ask after she finishes tying up her hair. Only someone with a keen gaze will notice that it¡¯s the second time she¡¯s getting dressed.

    ¡°I¡¯m certainly in a good mood.¡±

    I¡¯m still laughing as the ground shifts beneath us, the earth rising to take us to the Hall.

    -

    ¡°Lou. You look wonderful for a burgeoning tyrant.¡±

    As expected, the overzealous acolytes at the entry point to the Hall were instructed to let me pass. Unexpectedly but not surprisingly, someone is there to meet us. The ever-lovely alchemist, Cynthia¡­except not looking as lovely.

    Oh, she hasn¡¯t neglected her looks but signs of exhaustions are peeking through; there are no shadows under her eyes but the slight puffiness of the skin gives them away, her eyes are bloodshot in the corners, and her voluminous hair doesn¡¯t have its usual sheen. The biggest giveaway is her smile. It¡¯s usually so very carefree and confident. Now, there¡¯s nothing but strain in the arch of her lips.

    ¡°Cynthia,¡± I greet as I step off the carriage. ¡°Are we meeting as friends?¡±

    ¡°I hope so. Your enemies don¡¯t live good lives. Or long ones. Talia, is that you? Have I mentioned how much I love this new style of yours? You wouldn¡¯t be interested in modeling a few products of mine, hm? I have a few colors that would make that complexion of yours pop.¡±

    ¡°If it pleases my gardeners.¡±

    The strained smile twitches. ¡°You need permission to go to a party now?¡±

    ¡°Ever since a bunch of bastards kidnapped and threatened to kill her, we¡¯re a bit leery of public gatherings, yeah,¡± I say with narrowed eyes. ¡°But that¡¯s something we can discuss when anyone has the stomach for a party.¡± Which I don¡¯t imagine will be anytime soon.

    ¡°Darling, there¡¯s always an appetite for a little amusement. No more so during bleak times. Unfortunately, it¡¯s hard to have a good time without good food or good company. Two things that are in short supply.¡±

    ¡°That, we agree on. So? Why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Well, you tell me. I¡¯m here to make sure your impromptu visit goes well.¡± The smile finally becomes too heavy to hold and collapses. ¡°Because we really, really can¡¯t afford another problem at the moment.¡±

    Guess the heroes are having a hard time keeping everything together. I can practically hear Geneva whispering into my ear, telling me this is the perfect moment to extend a hand and steer the future. I¡¯d be tempted if we had any intention of staying. Now, attaching myself to this mess in any way is just inviting trouble. ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing to worry about from me. I know Dunwayne wants to talk and we can arrange that but we¡¯re not staying. Just picking up Talia¡¯s father.¡±

    ¡°Guardian.¡±

    ¡°Guardian-father. We¡¯re having a dinner thing tonight, all the family. Trust me, I don¡¯t want any problems today either.¡±

    She blinks, the reaction of someone with stellar control over their expression being overcome by surprise. Then she smiles and this time, it¡¯s a ghost of her usual infectious expression. ¡°First time meeting the family?¡±

    A hand unconsciously combs through my hair. ¡°That obvious?¡±

    She laughs. ¡°I can recognize a nervous paramour from a street away.¡± She shakes her head. ¡°I admit, I was worried when I got word of your sudden appearance. Ah~ What a relief. A few wondered what kind of woman would unleash such destruction. I¡¯m glad to see it was the Lou I know having a bad day, not a different Lou altogether.¡±

    ¡°¡­maybe a little different. Seriously, go do something important. Or take a nap. It won¡¯t be long before my business here is done and I¡¯ll be nothing but a bad memory.¡±

    Cynthia¡¯s eyes narrow. ¡°You¡¯re not just talking about this visit. You plan to leave?¡±

    ¡°We can discuss that more at an arranged meeting. For now¡­¡±

    ¡°You need to be going. I won¡¯t keep you. Good luck.¡±

    ¡°Same to you.¡± She looks like she needs it far more than me.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-10

    It¡¯s easy to forget but the Hall isn¡¯t just a school. It¡¯s a gathering place of the talented, in all fields. The best and the innovative. While most of the floating rock is dedicated to casters, the Grand Market houses geniuses of every kind. It¡¯s also where visitors with business that takes more than a day have to set up.

    I¡¯ve never stayed here before, but they have a lot of unique establishments. The restaurant that Arthur is fond of is a good example. The Market is the only place I can think of that has characters serving people their food. Maybe the Myriad Zone might have something like that, but that place is unique enough on its own.

    Unfortunately and perhaps predictably, Lord Remmings decided not to stay in a fun place. In fact, I¡¯d wager he drove around and found the most boring hotel on this rock. A nice hotel, painted in white and gold with arched windows and a slanted roof that curls at the end like a stylish moustache. A hand painted sign over the door has a picture of a bee hugging a piece of bread with the words The Honeycomb under it. Small, quaint, and warm. It¡¯s the kind of place I imagine a rich grandma might open if she got tired of dealing with grandkids and wanted to keep herself busy in her golden years.

    The inside doesn¡¯t dissuade me of that opinion. There¡¯s literally a grandma behind the front desk, curled up in a tall chair with a blanket over her legs and knitting in her hand. An orange and white tabby is curled up on a red pillow at the end of the counter, tail lazily swishing through the air. There are three small, square tables arranged before the front windows with trays of small baked goods on trays in the middle of them. An older couple sits at the corner table, enjoying tea and a sunny day. The view is worthy of being painted and hung in someone¡¯s living room as a mood to aspire to when inviting people into their homes.

    Dread builds in my gut as I imagine a man who chooses to stay in a place like this mixing with elves. Pushing aside my negative premonitions, I fix a smile to my face, hold out my arm to Talia, and approach the front desk. The old woman behind it looks up, keen eyes flicking over us. ¡°Afternoon, madam. We¡¯re here to visit one of your guests. Remmings?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, dear. Are you expected?¡±

    ¡°No, but my companion is his daughter. Please send a message that Umphrieltaia is here.¡±

    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re family. That¡¯s nice. None of my children can be bothered to visit their mother anymore. They blame me for moving away from the city, but we were a continent away even when we were a few streets away, yeah? I wasn¡¯t going to sit in a big, empty house alone and a friend offered to let me work the desk. I don¡¯t need the money but it¡¯s fun meeting all our guests. The strangest people find their way here. Though I imagine most of that will be slowing down with all the trouble in the city. Terrible thing that¡­¡±

    It¡¯s incredible. Her tone is slow and halting, as if she¡¯ll get too tired to say another word at any moment but her mouth never stops moving. Neither do her hands. She scribbles out a note and slaps a bell that brings a scrawny young man running to her side. He takes off with the message and her hands go back to her crafts, moving the needles with startling speed. She¡¯s still talking when the boy returns with a folded piece of paper.

    ¡°Oh good. He¡¯s willing to see you now, dears. I hope you have a pleasant visit.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Well. Good to see there are people still living their lives. For a while, I imagined I¡¯d broken the world. Changed people¡¯s futures for the worse in an irreparable way. Yet, here this woman is, worry-free. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s ignorance or a hardiness of the heart crafted through a long life of ups and downs, but it makes me smile.

    Which is good because I don¡¯t think I could have knocked on Remmings¡¯ door with a friendly expression otherwise. I even manage to hold it when he opens it.

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    Hm. Not exactly what I was expecting. Exactly the tightly buttoned jacket wearer I expect to be staying in a place like this but lacking the intimidating factors I¡¯d expect for the man who leads such an unsavory bunch as the interrogators. Younger than I expected too. He looks like he¡¯s barely into his forties and he¡¯s been the head interrogator for at least as long as he¡¯s had Talia under his wing. Unless he was given one of the most prestigious positions in the kingdom in his twenties, he¡¯s had work done and by a very good healer. Can¡¯t even see any gray in his short, dark hair.

    ¡°Talia.¡± There¡¯s warmth in his voice as he greets her, but his thin lips remain tightly pressed together and his dark eyes critical. There¡¯s plenty of nose for him to look down as he turns to me. ¡°And you must be Lourianne Tome. A meeting long overdue.¡±

    ¡°If only life were more accommodating,¡± I say, smile straining in the face of his obvious contempt.

    ¡°Will you invite us in?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Lord Remmings steps back, holding the door open wide. ¡°I don¡¯t have much, but I always have manners. Come in, I¡¯ll send for refreshments.¡±

    ¡°Better we don¡¯t,¡± Talia says, stopping us before we can move away from the door. ¡°We won¡¯t be staying long.¡±

    Ah. That breaks his stern mask. ¡°I hardly see you as it is.¡±

    ¡°Something I mean to rectify. We are to here to invite you to dinner with the whole clan.¡±

    ¡°The family should all meet,¡± I add, hoping I sound sincere. It¡¯s a little difficult with those beady eyes trying to peer into me. This man has a gaze like a stray cat, watching everything around it for one wrong move. Watching me for one wrong move. This man clearly doesn¡¯t like me and I don¡¯t blame him. However, I know one person that will blame him. Three people even. The elves don¡¯t tolerate differing opinions. They¡¯re going to take this hostility as a challenge. And they¡¯ll expect him to follow up on it.

    ¡°I¡¯d be delighted to come.¡±

    ¡°Glad to hear it. And I just had a great idea.¡± I don¡¯t need to be a mind reader to know this requires intervention. ¡°You guys really should spend more time together. Why don¡¯t you stay the afternoon, Talia? Enjoy the Market, have a bit of fun. I¡¯ll send Earl to collect you for dinner.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a grand plan,¡± Lord Remmings says, his frown lessening in severity the slightest amount.

    ¡°I¡¯d be delighted,¡± Talia says. Despite her closed eyes, I can feel her attention and the question behind it.

    ¡°Great, great. Lord Remmings, I¡¯m looking forward to a long conversation over a nice drink. Talia, show me out?¡±

    She hums and lets me lead her from the room and I close the door behind us firmly. I press her against the door, as close as I can get to out of view.

    ¡°Taking me where my guardian can hear?¡± she whispers as quietly as she can.

    ¡°Is that a no?¡± I reply just as softly. I doubt her guardian-father is actually eavesdropping on us but it wouldn¡¯t take much to be overheard.

    ¡°Do with me as you will.¡±

    It might be possible that our flower is too accommodating. Still, I can¡¯t help stealing a kiss. ¡°You need to work on him,¡± I whisper heatedly, fighting the tantalizing idea she¡¯s put in my head. ¡°He can¡¯t be that aggressive tonight, not unless he wants to defend those feelings in combat. I¡¯ll give him every benefit, but I can¡¯t have him undermining my efforts with Kierra¡¯s parents. If he doesn¡¯t correct himself, he¡¯s going to force me to correct him. I¡¯d be gentle but¡­¡±

    Better to be a little rough with him and keep the rowdy elves in check than let him have his way and risk a brawl having to prove myself. Quest is already in ruins. A fight between me, Orum, and Morgene? Saints, just me and Orum. The city will be dust.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain the situation.¡±

    ¡°I trust you to be tactful.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°And maybe you can sniff out his motives? Beyond being a father-guardian.¡± Talia is talented. Incredibly talented and I¡¯m not just speaking out of bias. However, I refuse to believe there is no one that can match that talent in all of Harvest. She¡¯s also unique in that she has no agendas besides personal ones and can be trusted as a fair arbitrator in any investigation, but one woman isn¡¯t going to bring all the corruption in the capital to a halt.

    The interrogators would be bettered for having her but she¡¯s not so crucial that Lord Remmings needs to go through the trouble of taking up temporary residence in the Hall to convince her. And if she is, I would like to know why.

    ¡°How strenuous would you like the questioning to be?¡±

    ¡°You would¡­¡±

    ¡°He has been my guardian for a long time, but he isn¡¯t clan. Not unless he chooses to be.¡±

    I chuckle as I hug her, careful not to apply any real pressure. ¡°Never change, Talia.¡±

    ¡°Even flowers grow. Kierra tells me the best flowers grow more beautiful with age.¡±

    ¡°And you are certainly the best.¡±

    She smiles broadly for her, which means just a hint of white teeth. ¡°I will be.¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-11 (Remmings)

    Baron Ethan Remmings stared at his reflection in the tall, ornate mirror with a critical eye. As one who worked with the mind, he understood more than most the power of appearance. Clothing could be a potent tool, if wielded correctly. The right impression could safeguard a kingdom or doom it to the Abyss. For that reason, every piece of his outfit was chosen with intention.

    Black trousers and jackets, the color of the interrogators and the color of mourning. A subtle hint that he didn¡¯t approve of the state of Quest, as it would do no good to speak as much aloud. A red shirt, the color of love and passion. The love he had for his daughter. Finally, his gold accessories, the color of prosperity. The color of good intentions. It along with red were the colors of Harvest, a pointed declaration of his loyalty to the crown.

    A somewhat festive appearance of a man happily meeting his only disciple¡¯s love interest to a casual observation but steeped in meaning for the discerning. A test, one of many he planned for the night.

    Remmings wasn¡¯t an emotional man. In his line of work, he couldn¡¯t afford to be. Once, he had been ambitious, eager to use his affinity to rise above the common circumstances of his voice. His reputation as a young man was disastrous and his days treacherous as he secretly warred with the Grimoire family and their cabal under the previous king. Watching the way those monsters twisted the minds of those without adequate protection killed any love Remmings had for his magic. Seeing it commit so much evil, he couldn¡¯t view the mental affinity as anything but a poisonous thing.

    Yet, it was his duty to wield it, to protect the kingdom. The crown would have him root out traitors and the exceptionally criminal, but he saw his true mission as hunting down those that abused the mind. Rogue mental casters were hunted down by the interrogators with ruthless efficiency. And while the Grimoires were untouchable, it was his life¡¯s goal to dismantle them.

    Until he met his disciple.

    The interrogators were one of the few organizations in the kingdom that actively hunted for members. Those with the mental affinity were too valuable and too rare. If they weren¡¯t found by agents of the crown, unscrupulous nobles would use them for unscrupulous ends. Potential interrogators needed to be found as quickly as possible, as proper ethics and morals needed to be instilled in youth if they were to hold true.

    Remmings was discovered at the age of ten. His situation reflected the norm; an interrogator came to his village and guided him through casting a simple mental spell. When his affinity was discovered, his parents were moved to the capital and given good jobs. Remmings was given a place in one of the few schools of the city, given the chance to study alongside noble and wealthy sons. Three days of the week, after his schooling, a junior member of the interrogators tutored him. Eventually, he became a junior member himself, starting his career by running errands inane errands, including his own tutoring.

    There were all manner of unsavory rumors about what the interrogators did to increase their numbers but the organization, and his mental affinity that introduced him to them, had been nothing but a blessing for himself and his family. He had power, both magical and political, and he had prestige, including his own title. There were plenty of dark aspects to his work, but he took pride in doing it. He couldn¡¯t imagine doing anything else. However, his experience wasn¡¯t everyone¡¯s.

    He was born a commoner, but he was a sensible young man from a sensible family. As a child, he admired the interrogators but once he was older, he realized what he saw as saintly benevolence was duty. His family was moved to the capital and he was given schooling but those were problems easily solved by a bag of gold. What he took as strictness from his tutor was instead rigid apathy.

    Remmings didn¡¯t think of himself as a prideful man. He also considered himself an honest one. Despite the former and because of the latter, he considered himself the best the interrogators had to offer. They drilled ethics into their members but those could easily be bent and outright compromised for the right perks. For some, those ethics never took hold properly. Especially in the orphans.

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    It was easy to teach children from loving, stable homes to protect the trust and values of the kingdom. Those from broken homes, who lived their lives learning to trust no one and to do whatever it took to survive? They took the opportunity from the interrogators but it didn¡¯t inspire loyalty. They listened to the lectures on morality with one ear while plotting. They became the interrogators that made deals in back rooms and worked ¡°extra hours¡±.

    All the most problematic members of his order came from broken homes. They needed healing, but the kingdom gave them chains. It was a recipe for disaster, proven time and time again. Remmings turned his gaze from it, preferring to focus on the problems he could solve and hoping his reputation would keep them in line.

    Because of that, it was three years before he discovered Talia and it was by accident. One of the junior members was complaining about being assigned to teach her, loudly. Remmings normally ignored the venting of the younger members, but he was intrigued about the story of a young blind girl with a thirst for learning. He stepped into the conversation to reprimand the junior and then he informed him that he would be sitting in on the next lesson.

    That meeting changed his life.

    He came in expecting a hungry, shifty soul. Instead, he found something pure. A pure drive for self-improvement. Umphrieltalia didn¡¯t feel slighted by her impairment. She didn¡¯t get angry with her lacking tutor. She didn¡¯t have ambitions for political power or wealth. All she cared about was the magic. Not just using it but mastering it. Improving it and through so, herself. She wanted power, not for any endgame but for power itself.

    Beyond that, she had talent. Remmings didn¡¯t become the head interrogator because he was the strongest mental caster, not at first. Even now, there were a handful that rivaled him in power, if not skill. He rose to the top by being willing to do the hard work as well as the dirty work. By being the previous king¡¯s dog and the current¡¯s staunch ally in a world full of opportunists and enemies.

    Talia was different. She had a sharp mind but, more importantly, she had an intimidating level of focus. Her tutor saw her lack of eyesight and doubted she could learn the basic spells of the interrogators. Remmings watched as the young man fought impatience to explain every symbol, Talia¡¯s face as expressive as a wall as she pictured them. Then he watched as she cast the spell, over and over, until her core was empty. Everyday, her dedication not waning a single second.

    Until one day, he walked in to her casting a spell she hadn¡¯t been taught. It wasn¡¯t revolutionary but she¡¯d intuited it from what she already learned. She was a genius, one who drew strength from her circumstances rather than let them twist her.

    That day, he saw a vision of the future. A new interrogators, led by an impartial master too powerful to be cowed by any noble or even the crown. A leader that could inspire, that the displaced could relate to and whose story would shame the privileged. She was a shining light that would dispel generations of darkness.

    That day, Remmings asked the girl if she wanted to come home with him. Asked, not demanded, for even at a young age, Talia knew her own mind. She agreed and from then on, she became his focus. All his wealth, all his experience, all his connections.

    At some point, his hopes became genuine affection. Talia never warmed up to him. It stung at first, but the wound scarred over the years when he realized she didn¡¯t warm to anyone. It also didn¡¯t stop him from thinking of her as a daughter. In the beginning, he would deny the misunderstandings of his peers. But the longer they spent together, the more her talent was cultivated and the more he liked the idea of Talia being his legacy.

    He thought she shared his dream. They¡¯d discussed it. Planned for it. Her tenure at the Grand Hall was meant to make connections that would go a long way in the future.

    When he didn¡¯t hear from her for a long time, he didn¡¯t think anything of it. The message declaring she wouldn¡¯t be returning to the capital raised a brow but also didn¡¯t inspire concern. It was only when his own connections in the Hall sent word that she was involved with Lourianne Tome, the subject of many terrible scandals, that he got worried, but not overly. It was long overdue, but every woman lost her head to love. Remmings was confident that he could straighten out his wayward disciple with a visit.

    Only after being rebuffed in person did Remmings begin to fear for the beautiful future he imagined. He could feel his dream collapsing with every moment. His Talia, as imposing and immovable as the frozen mountains of the north, had changed. It wasn¡¯t just reckless love he had to pry her from, but the arms of a city-leveling monster. Worse? He didn¡¯t know if he intended to drag her back to the interrogators for her own good or for his. Not when throughout her visit with him, she remained decisive

    Being a master of the mind didn¡¯t mean he could understand his own. He hoped tonight would give him a better understanding of the situation. Or it would spell his demise. Lady Tome struck him as a vengeful person.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-12 (Remmings)

    Remmings was putting the final touches on his gift, as one didn¡¯t show up to a stranger¡¯s home empty-handed for dinner if they wanted to leave a good impression, when the hotel¡¯s messenger boy rapped on his door. He slipped the waifish thing a few coppers as he handed over the medium-sized box and the well-trained worker fell in step behind him as he stepped briskly down the stairs.

    Outside, a strange carriage waited for him, though calling it a carriage was being generous. It was a wagon with benches installed and a flimsy cover made of a large, dirty cloth and thin sticks. There were no walls and poor cushioning in the form of a layer of straw, some of which had fallen to cover the floor.

    Even the beasts hitched to it were a poor showing. Instead of the long maned stallions whose coats gleamed under the tall torches that lit the street, it was pulled by beasts of burden. Big, burly things with horns more intimidating than bastard swords and hooves that could crush a man¡¯s head.

    They looked perfectly docile as they sniffed the at the street and stared into oblivion, but Remmings thought he could be excused for being intimidated by a creature three times his size. The mental affinity was many things, but he¡¯d have to empty his core to stop one of the things before it could trample him. If it could run. The beasts looked like boulders with legs. He didn¡¯t imagine they¡¯d be very fast. He even worried if he¡¯d manage to make it to his host before dawn.

    A woman leaned on the side of the poor vehicle, chewing a long stalk of something green. He recognized the black rings tattooed on her dark skin as the markings of the Temple, zealots that worshiped powerful mana beasts. The crazy people practiced a religion that taught them to value monsters more than men. There was a time when they were a true threat to the people of Harvest, with a culture of raiding that could rival the pirates of the coast. Unlike the clans, they weren¡¯t afraid to target large settlements and their nomadic nature made them difficult to subjugate.

    As a boy, he¡¯d been lectured on the many threats of the kingdom in preparation for when he¡¯d have to defend against them. The Temple wasn¡¯t at the top of the list, but they weren¡¯t at the bottom either. Thankfully, Dunwayne¡¯s invitation to house the larger clans within the Hall pacified their more aggressive actions. However, his knowledge of their history made Remmings watch the young woman with a critical eye as she straightened up.

    ¡°You are the lord who needs a ride into the city, hm?¡± she asked while tossing aside her stalk.

    ¡°I might have been but I¡¯m rethinking the decision.¡±

    ¡°Do not think too hard.¡± She chuckled as she pat the side of her vehicle. ¡°It is easy to fish in shallow waters. No others are willing to ride into the city now. The Sanctuary has stepped in to provide where there is lack and I am one of the more considerate of my kin. If you call for another, you may be pushed around in a wheelbarrow.¡±

    Remmings lips twisted with distaste, both at imagining such a scenario and for accepting the reality that he would have to ride in such an undignified matter. ¡°At least tell me you had the forethought to have a blanket to lay on the bench?¡± He wasn¡¯t as critical about his appearance as some higher nobles but there was no way he would show up to a formal dinner with straw on his ass.

    ¡°No, but perhaps your host can spare one.¡±

    He stared at her, waiting for her to go in and check, but the young woman made no move, lips turning up with amusement. It took far too long for him to realize he was treating her as a servant and she had no intention of acting like one. Not even temporarily. His frown deepened as he turned to handle the inquiry himself. The ride was just as miserable as he imagined. He tried not to imagine the bruise he would have in the morning. Something made easy by the scenery.

    After the destruction, Remmings had stood at the edge of the Market for what felt like hours overlooking the city. It was horrifying to see most of what was once a prosperous city reduced to flat rubble, but the feeling was muted by shock and detachment.

    Standing above it all, it was easy to frame the destruction in the abstract. To think of the death as numbers and potential consequences rather than people. It was very different to be amid the damage. To see broken signs sticking out of the rubble. To see survivors darting through the carnage like stray dogs. In the thick of it, the loss was palpable. He swore he could taste it on the air, something indecipherable but figuratively sour, tanking his mood until it was all he could do to keep it off his face as they pulled up to the Teppin estate.

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    Marks of the recent conflict were everywhere he looked but just as obvious as what was there was what wasn¡¯t there. The Teppin knights weren¡¯t a renowned order, but they were an adequate force. In normal times, they would have lined the dirt path leading up to the door. Instead, a boy in a purple jacket with gold buttons was the only one to receive him. His bow as Remmings disembarked would have made the best etiquette teachers in the capital shed a tear of joy if he were their student.

    ¡°Welcome to the Tome estate. I am the steward, Earl.¡±

    ¡°Tome estate?¡± Remmings asked.

    ¡°This property will belong to my lady so long as she claims it.¡± The young man¡¯s gaze shifted to his driver. ¡°Good evening, Cloud. My lady is hosting dinner tonight but I can inquire if your presence is welcome, either at the table or later.¡±

    It was Remmings¡¯ turn to side-eye the young woman. He hoped that their acquaintance was limited to the personal. The last thing the kingdom needed was someone with Lady Tome¡¯s power backing the Temple. Or perhaps worse, the Temple backing the lady. They were crazy but they¡¯d never leveled an entire settlement. He didn¡¯t want to see what they would do if they were directed to.

    ¡°Not today, little predator,¡± Cloud said with a smile. ¡°But perhaps I will be back beneath another moon. It has been too long since I¡¯ve broken bread with my sister and I wish to see how your kin has progressed on the path.¡±

    ¡°Then have a safe journey home.¡±

    Despite how little he enjoyed the journey, Remmings still gave the young woman a silver. Best to be generous with a woman who he was sure had just referred to his host as her sister and had a clear connection to the Tome house. She smiled toothily at him, but he didn¡¯t think the gesture was friendly.

    ¡°This way, your lordship.¡±

    As the young man led him into the estate, Remmings quickly cast a spell. An original of his. There were three fields of study for the mental affinity. The first was delving the mind. The second, enhancing it. And the third, changing it. However, there was a fourth field. One that was more a question than a field, intricately tied to the three main disciplines.

    The mental affinity was most impactful when the target of it didn¡¯t realize a spell was being cast. As such, the eternal question was stealth. How to do more without being noticed.

    Of the three, enhancement was the easiest to use subtly. It was also a field that interested Remmings a lot. The techniques of the interrogators focused on delving the mind, but they provided few means of personal power. Something the head interrogator thought was the point. They were potent tools but no threat to the crown and its royal knights. A mental caster¡¯s combat strength lay in enhancement. Amplifying the abilities of their own minds and allowing them to perform superhuman feats of sensory and intelligence.

    His eyes flashed with channeled mana a fraction of a second as he examined the minds within the home. He had practiced identifying and cataloguing multiple impressions on the streets of Summer Spire, where there could be dozens of people within the area of his spell. A simple estate was child¡¯s play. What he discovered made his shoulders tense.

    One mind was familiarly cold, though shrouded with a new blanket of¡­something. Comfort? Confidence? It was close but different.

    One was numb, streaked with anxiety. A mind in distress.

    One was hyper aware, an animal moving cautiously in dangerous circumstances.

    One, the boy steward, was disciplined, strangely focused without any other emotion to distract him.

    One mind was full of fear and the mind closest to it was full of¡­fervor? The only thing close to it were the minds of the religious fanatics who truly worshipped the saints, venerating those with the light affinity and praying to dead heroes to save them in their times of woe.

    Three of the minds were focused on violence, but with different flavors; anticipatory, determined, and amused. Their thoughts made him fear for his safety, but there was no way to know if their thoughts of violence were focused on him. That would require touching them more directly.

    The last one¡­

    Remmings repeated his spell, focusing on one mind in particular. It didn¡¯t help. What he felt¡­he didn¡¯t know how to describe it. It was strange, incredibly strange. Wrong. Overwhelming. But more than anything, it was foreign. Remmings couldn¡¯t begin to understand the emotion in it because it didn¡¯t feel like a human. He didn¡¯t know if it felt anything. The only thing recognizable about it was power. Somehow, he could feel the strength of the thing¡¯s intellect.

    And then it turned its attention to him and he realized he was only sensing the tip of the mountain.

    That¡­thing waiting deep in the estate wasn¡¯t simply foreign. Or inhuman. It was alien. Something so different he had no frame of reference to compare it to. No, there was one thing. It was a predator and this was its territory. And he, the head interrogator, so proud of his power and affinity, was nothing but prey, ripe for devouring. His presence was tolerated but if he made one mistake, stepped out of line or raised a hand, he would be devoured. Quickly and with great relish.

    ¡°Your lordship?¡±

    The presence turned away and Remmings snapped to attention, brow sweating heavily. The young steward was staring at him impassively. Did he not feel it? What kind of creature could target him so precisely with such a powerful effect at a distance?

    ¡°May I take your coat?¡±

    It took all his willpower and love not to shrug it off rather than clench it tighter as he fled into the night.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-13

    It¡¯s a good thing people can¡¯t die from tension.

    I hope.

    It would be terrible to find out awkward tables are my fatal weakness after arranging what promised to be a tension-filled dinner. And it has definitely delivered.

    At the dining table of my temporary home, the Tome clan is gathered along with our three unexpected guests. I stand at the head of the table, searching for the words that will make the event feel more like a family gathering and less like a battlefield. To my right is Alana, wearing her usual stern frown and a pretty white dress, her hair kept out of her face by two thin braids pinned in a blond halo. She contributes to the tension with her usual steely glare, ramped up a new notch in the presence of multiple fighters that can overpower her.

    Beside her is Talia, dressed in a courtly dress of pale blue and white, her eyes closed as she sits with her hands folded in her lap; as beautiful and cold as an ice sculpture carved in the shape of a flower. She¡¯s playing her role but it¡¯s a little off. Not quite as refined as usual and a glaring sign of her nerves.

    Beside her is her guardian-father, the esteemed Lord Remmings, leader of the famed interrogators. Except, he is far from the noble visage that stared me down in the doorway of his temporary lodging earlier. For the umpteenth time, he wipes his sweaty brow with the golden handkerchief in his jacket pocket, the poor cloth closer to a rumpled ball than the neatly folded square he walked in with. He wasn¡¯t even collected enough to hand over his gift, Earl presenting it in his stead as he dazedly took a seat, taking furtive glances at the dark corners of the room.

    To my left is Kierra, her expression the tight grimace of someone expecting trouble. Which is very worrying because she normally laughs in the face of danger. Revels in it even. She¡¯s making no secret that she expects this to all go to the Abyss, dressed in leathers rather than something more comfortable. The saints watch over us, there are knives strapped to her waist. Thankfully, she¡¯s at least giving the impression of civility, the knives out of sight as her fingers incessantly drum on the edge of the table.

    Next to her is her father, big as a bear and just as grumpy. For some reason, he¡¯s bare-chested but that¡¯s not the most problematic part. It¡¯s the glare. He hasn¡¯t stopped glaring since he sat down. First, at me. Then Lord Remmings. Finally, shifting between the two of us with varying intensity. Thankfully, his gaze is more discerning than threatening.

    Finally, at the other end of the table is Morgene, by far the most relaxed of the attendees. Wearing a woven green dress that reminds me of my time in the Enchanted Forest and a big smile, she is the picture of carefree amusement, one leg crossed over the other, a bare foot tapping the air to her whims. Her silver hair is tied up in a high ponytail, exposing her long neck. I try not to stare. She¡¯s Kierra¡¯s mother for saints¡¯ sake and that is the root of the problem. The Atainna line is truly blessed.

    I clear my throat, grabbing their attention. The words I need are still eluding my grasp but there¡¯s no time to waste. The last thing I want is for this carriage to go off the road, which it certainly will if any of the others grab the reins.

    ¡°I want to thank our guests for joining us tonight. We live in¡­interesting times. Days where our homes can change in a matter of hours and unexpected dangers are frequent. When walking the winding road of life, it¡¯s our loved ones that keep us true. Family is a rock and what binds family together are¡­experiences. The traditions they pass on. The obstacles they overcome. The laughs, the tears, the fights, and the reconciliations they share. And most of those things happen over a good meal.¡± Ah, darn it. We need drinks for me to make a toast¡­ah.

    My servants sweep into the room, setting glasses before everyone. Herbanacle all around except for Morgene. Geneva and Morgene exchange concerning smiles as the succubus pours her a glass of wine. I purposefully ignore it as I raise my own glass high. ¡°A toast to us and our time together. Whether we laugh, cry, or fight, let it all bring us closer to together as family. Cheers.¡±

    The words feel strange on my tongue. Family. What do I know about it? My father, my only real family, is gone and we never had a healthy relationship. Cordial, but far from loving. My cousins are the next closest to me and our relationships are best described as distant. But what I have with my clan is good. I think? If it isn¡¯t, I don¡¯t care because it works for us.

    Here¡¯s hoping I can mimic something similar with the strong personalities sitting at my table. Sending a prayer to the saints and a glossy god, I toss back my drink. Then I retake my seat as the dining room erupts with movement.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    The bare table is quickly burdened by bowls and platters as a literal feast is laid out before us. Geneva and Earl work in perfect concert setting out the food and refilling drinks. Then they take up positions on the walls, shadows ready to pounce on anyone¡¯s slightest need. The smell of incredible food is the hammer that finally shatters the tension that¡¯s been building since this morning and the table digs in. Lord Remmings even manages to forget his anxiety as he tears into a fish dish. Orum is taking a liking to the fried vegetables. Kierra is a tiny serving of salad away from a carnivore. And Morgene¡­

    Morgene only has an appetite for wine. And me. Geneva caught her attention for a moment but now she¡¯s back to watching me. She hasn¡¯t stopped watching me since she appeared in our bedroom and saw me transform. Soon enough, my reprieve comes to an end.

    ¡°I have heard of creatures like you,¡± Morgene starts and I know from her tone that it¡¯s the beginning of the end. ¡°In the past, when Orum tried to convince me to travel the world with him, he would show me records of the strange beasts that inhabit other lands. In Common, they would be called cruel bogs. Slime-like creatures that eat their prey from the inside. While they do, they puppet their new skins, using it to infiltrate settlements.¡± She tilts her head and the gesture is achingly familiar. ¡°Are you a mutation? Or perhaps it is more justified to call you an evolution?¡±

    ¡°Pardon me.¡± Lord Remmings stops enjoying his food, the reprieve from whatever was bothering him having done much for his control. There is a trace of the man who stared me down earlier in his hard gaze as he looks up from his food and right at me. ¡°Are you not human?¡±

    Sigh. That is information I would have really preferred to not be shared with the head interrogator. I wonder if Talia will resent me if I have his mind stripped of the inconvenient details? The last thing I need is the king painting me as another Aggro. And whatever he feels for Talia, the man¡¯s loyalty to the crown is without question. He¡¯s wearing the royal colors, for saints¡¯ sake. Hm.

    ¡°I like to think of myself as human,¡± I say, my lovers listening with one ear while our guests give me their full attention. ¡°But, strictly speaking, I¡¯m not. Nothing as disgusting as whatever monstrosity you just described.¡±

    ¡°They are quite formidable. A bog grows larger the more it consumes but its form is malleable. What appears to be a creature no bigger than a wild dog can unfurl into the size of a wyvern. Many that hunt them underestimate them and add to the bog.¡±

    Huh. No wonder she drew that conclusion. ¡°My¡­blessing is¡­¡±

    ¡°You are being very hesitant, Lou.¡± Morgene leans forward, eyes sharp. ¡°You promised us answers, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Let the girl speak in her own time,¡± Orum grunts. ¡°Sate your hunger with what is already before you in the meantime. It is disrespectful to ignore a meal. Especially one well-prepared.¡±

    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t use a bloated stomach as an excuse for poor performance later,¡± she scoffs, holding out her glass. Geneva is right there to fill it before disappearing once more.

    ¡°You wish to experience my performance, dedia?¡±

    Her gaze leaves me for a moment to focus on Orum, who I keep forgetting is married to this woman. Well, they¡¯re reminding me. Relaxed and enjoying themselves, I think, the tension between them has shifted, becoming something different. ¡°You think you¡¯d have the strength after wrestling with the creature strong enough to enamor our daughter?¡±

    ¡°Can we get back to you not being human?¡± Lord Remmings interrupts their flirting and I curse him for it. ¡°Are you a spy? An agent of war?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡± I squash the urge to roll my eyes. ¡°My origins aren¡¯t hard to investigate and I¡¯d bet every crown I have you¡¯ve investigated me, extensively.¡±

    ¡°She¡ª" He jerks his head in the direction of Morgene and I cut him off before she can take offense.

    ¡°Morgene Atainna. D¡¯Atainna if you address her directly. Royal etiquette, I¡¯m sure you understand.¡±

    ¡°¡­Lady Atainna said these bog creatures can take the skins of their victims. What is to say you didn¡¯t take the skin of Lourianne Tome?¡±

    ¡°Because I am myself. I think if I were an impostor, my family would have noticed.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps they noticed and said nothing. Nobles are pragmatic creatures easily swayed by benefits. I can imagine them sacrificing an unremarkable daughter for the protection of a powerful manabeast. And having her memories is easily explained by the creatures serving us dinner.¡± He eyed Geneva, who returned his look with a shy smile. Saints, it¡¯s unnerving when she does the docile act. ¡°If you are some creature with¡ª"

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna stop you right there and ask you one question,¡± I interrupt. ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    ¡°Of course it¡ª"

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t. It really doesn¡¯t matter if I¡¯m human, bog, or a dragon in disguise. It¡¯s not like this kingdom has a hard stance against other races. We gave our city to a damn elemental and the crown has been courting my wife since she showed up. Only two things matter.¡±

    I raise two fingers and waggle them. ¡°How strong I am and what I want. I¡¯m too strong to fight and I don¡¯t want anything, so you don¡¯t need to fight me. That¡¯s it. And don¡¯t ask about my blessing. I¡¯m not sharing the details with any of you three.

    He doesn¡¯t look happy. Is he going to be a problem?

    [Not if you do not want him to be.]

    ¡°You will not tell us what you are.¡± Morgene doesn¡¯t sound happy, but she doesn¡¯t try to refute me. ¡°Will you tell us what you can do?¡± Her tone tells me that she won¡¯t take kindly to being refused twice.

    This, I¡¯m willing to share, for my own ends. ¡°It¡¯s simple. I¡¯m a shapeshifter but I don¡¯t use spells. If I consume enough of something, I can take its form.¡±

    To my surprise, it¡¯s not Morgene who reacts but Orum. He drops a half-shredded leg of meat and stands with enough force to knock down his chair.

    ¡°Show me,¡± he demands.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-14

    ¡°Father.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s exasperated rebuke cuts through the tension around Orum like a knife through untrained flesh before it has a chance to spread to the rest of the room. And, like a dog whose leash has been pulled by an irate owner, Orum stiffens, his expression showing the battle going on inside of him.

    ¡°You promised.¡±

    ¡°Kii¡ª¡±

    She doesn¡¯t look up from her food, but her voice hardens. ¡°You. Promised.¡± She doesn¡¯t need to say the part where if he breaks said promise, she won¡¯t forgive him and might use those knives she¡¯s carrying.

    Aw. It¡¯s kind of sweet. I think this is the first time I¡¯ve seen my wife throw a tantrum. Not her usual violent and emotional badgering meant to push her target to a desired outcome. This is the real deal, a child coming at their parent with nothing but petulance. Being the doting father he is, Orum immediately folds, retaking his seat with a grumble. ¡°A shapeshifter. That doesn¡¯t use spells.¡±

    ¡°You were promised a showing after dinner. A dinner where we are meant to be sharing our lives, not our secrets.¡±

    The mountain of a man lets out a deep breath and returns to his food. ¡°Our lives. Then, I will give an account of myself. I am Orum, son of Riselda¡ª¡±

    ¡°Those not of a notable bloodline are named after their mothers,¡± Morgene interjects. ¡°Something many have called backward, but all too sensible. It would be scandalous if elves had to walk around calling themselves son of a nameless goblin or daughter of a wild warg, haha! The family registries of Twilight would read like a comedy!¡±

    ¡°You people sleep with goblins?¡± Remmings ask, his etiquette failing him as his disgust slips through.

    ¡°What¡¯s a warg?¡± I ask with nothing but curiosity, already used to their proclivities. Saints, I¡¯ve indulged Kierra¡¯s.

    ¡°A warg is a goblinoid with canid ancestry,¡± Kierra answers. ¡°How to explain? Hm. If a troll is a pig man, a warg is a dog man.¡±

    ¡°Some have a bit of saurian in them,¡± her mother adds. ¡°The first matriarchs took a liking to the beasts for their noses. They can track like no other. It goes beyond their sense. Something about their very being is aligned with the act of tracking. There are records of their champions following their prey across seas.¡±

    ¡°You keep records of other species?¡± Every answer out of this woman¡¯s mouth just generates a dozen new questions. What in glorious Paradise does it mean for a creature to align with an action? That has to be some superstitious nonsense¡­right?

    It''s Orum that answers my question. ¡°Dusk, the land of the strong, keeps a master codex of every beast felled by its hunters so the aspiring know where to find their next challenge. Twilight, the land of the matriarchs, keeps records of bloodlines and the results of mixing them.¡±

    ¡°So that the next whorefiend knows which pole to straddle,¡± Morgene throws in, clearly amused. ¡°They are family heirlooms and quite prized.¡±

    ¡°As well as irrelevant to my story,¡± her husband growls.

    ¡°Not so irrelevant. Those broad shoulders of yours are in those records, mountain blood.¡±

    ¡°So is your silver hair, cave witch.¡± He holds her gaze, daring her to interrupt again. When she turns her attention to her drink, he continues. ¡°The physical affinity is prominent in my clan. Many generations became healers and I was trained to do the same, but I didn¡¯t want to spend my life fixing great fighters. I wanted to be one. All knowledge has two sides. What can be used to heal can be used to hurt. I used my knowledge of fixing bodies to break them and became very good at it.¡±

    ¡°And cocky. So very cocky~¡±

    Orum scowls at his wife. ¡°Yes. My strength made me confident and my ability to recover from fatal wounds made me fearless. I issued a challenge to all the warriors of the provinces to face me in honorable combat. To use each other to sharpen ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I used you.¡±

    ¡°Mother, please,¡± Kierra groans with the same exasperation of every child forced to contemplate the sex lives of their parents.

    ¡°My challenge attracted many challengers, including a menace of a woman who follows the old ways. Our union gave birth to the best thing in my life, my daughter.¡± For the first time since we sat down, the large man smiles but it fades quickly. ¡°After her¡­troubles, I traveled the world, searching for something more than strength. I saw many sights, many wonders¡­though nothing as astounding as shapeshifting without a spell.¡±

    His spiel ends with a meaningful look in my direction. He delivered so now he wants his due. Not so fast. ¡°Did you travel through the human continent?¡±

    ¡°Why would he waste his time in this sprawling pigsty?¡± Morgene scoffs.

    Remmings frowns but holds his tongue.

    ¡°While I don¡¯t share her scathing opinion, I didn¡¯t. There is little challenge in these lands.¡±

    Alana pauses inhaling her food to bark out a laugh, hastily covering her mouth as a bit of it falls from her mouth. Earl appears at her side with a napkin and she wipes her lips with a pink face. ¡°I think you¡¯ll feel differently if you go north. Far north.¡±

    ¡°Apparently, there¡¯re dragons,¡± I add.

    ¡°What?!¡± the head interrogator exclaims, his eyes wide with understandable panic. Panic no one else at the table shares. I expected at least a raised eyebrow from Morgene if not salivating excitement, but she doesn¡¯t react as she sips her wine. Huh. Is Kierra the more unhinged between the two? At least when it comes to fighting.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I wave off Remmings worry. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± Another detail you¡¯re not going to remember.

    ¡°Lady Tome, you need to explain¡ª¡±

    ¡°More importantly, where did you learn Common, er, Orum?¡± It¡¯s too early to call him Father, right? I don¡¯t even know if I want to. ¡°The same tutors as Kierra?¡±

    ¡°No, I learned it during my travels.¡±

    ¡°¡­wait.¡± That doesn¡¯t make sense.

    ¡°Very arrogant of you to assume your little kingdom is the only human settlement,¡± Morgene says. ¡°Or to assume that your Common is a human tongue.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s known as the Shrouded Sea Trade Tongue in many parts of the world.¡±

    ¡°Sea tongue, trade language, misty tongue, northy, civilized tongue, mompeiian.¡± Morgene waves a hand. ¡°So on and so forth.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re an old people with much history.¡±

    I stare at the elves with disbelief as they casually shatter a truth I¡¯ve believed in with everything I have for all my life. Harvest is the only human kingdom in the world. That fact has been drilled into my head for as long as I could understand words. That fact defines this kingdom. Has motivated a lot of decisions and traditions. But the elves say different and they¡¯re not liars.

    Our history says our flight from the calamity of the Great War was a desperate bid for survival. Our ancestors came together and fought against a mountain of obstacles to secure a new home, united by the threat of extinction. If we weren¡¯t the last? If there was a group that held out, resisted the draconids that devastated the world? A group that did so despite a large portion of humanity abandoning them?

    We wouldn¡¯t be survivors who persevered through impossible odds. We¡¯d be cowards. An entire kingdom of cowards that fled with our tails between our legs and decided to rob this land from its inhabitants rather than defend our own homes.

    I need a drink.

    And as soon as I think as much, a glass and one of Howie¡¯s special brews is placed in front of me. I pour as Orum continues, pushing aside the latest revelation. Now¡¯s not the time to contemplate all the earth-shattering tidbits these elves are dropping like crap from the backend of a horse. Just smile and nod.

    ¡°My travels inspired new ways to use my abilities. I returned to¡­have a conversation with my partner about Kierra¡¯s punishment. Instead, I find my daughter free, married, and far from home.¡± His tone tells me he¡¯s holding a grudge.

    ¡°You forgot happy and healthy,¡± I add.

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    Orum is interrupted by Remmings standing up from his chair and slamming his hands on the table. It¡¯s a very dramatic gesture meant to garner attention and he gets it. All eyes find the head interrogator as he tries to stare me down, figuratively and literally.

    ¡°This, all of this, has gone well beyond the bounds of a personal gathering. I apologize for my rudeness, but this is ridiculous. You¡­people are discussing other pockets of humanity beyond our borders and dragons nesting within them! This conversation should be taking place in the throne room.¡±

    ¡°Teacher,¡± Talia warns.

    He looks down at her and sighs before continuing. ¡°But I will accept a promise from those present that these facts will be presented to the crown.¡± His gaze moves to me. ¡°I want to believe that my daughter has chosen a¡­good partner. A sensible one. If you¡¯re the person I hope you are, if you want to be better than the fools stagnating in their own importance that are so prevalent in our kingdom, then you will give me this guarantee.¡±

    Guarantee, he says.

    Slowly, the rest of the room turns to me, full of expectation. Really, what does he think he¡¯s doing?

    I down what¡¯s in my glass and pour a refill. ¡°Why are you asking my opinion? You¡¯re here, hearing everything I am. You could take it to the king yourself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the city. I don¡¯t leave without your grace. My only recourse is to ask you to do the right thing.¡±

    True. ¡°Well, your only recourse has failed. This is family business. Nothing we know is some big secret the king couldn¡¯t discover if he got up and did his job. It¡¯s not my duty to wipe his a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Your duty? Safeguarding Harvest is the duty of every citizen!¡±

    ¡°¡ªand like everyone else in this kingdom, my first loyalty is to myself and my loved ones. Do what you need to but after we finish eating.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see. I can¡¯t say I¡¯m not disappointed.¡±

    ¡°Happens to everyone.¡±

    ¡°Including you. I apologize for this.¡± His eyes glow with channeled mana but nothing happens. Which is good for him. He would have died if he tried anything. Well. He would have been hurt, severely.

    ¡°Did you do something?¡±

    His eyes lose their glow and his shoulders slump, expression tightening with what I assume is pain. Mana strain, huh? Must have worked a pretty big spell for it to be affecting him so obviously.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t travel alone,¡± he says as he carefully lowers himself into his chair. ¡°The head interrogator is too prestigious a position to move without an entourage and we have our enemies. I manage to keep my people discrete. I just sent a message to one of them, relaying the crucial information you seem in no hurry to share.¡±

    ¡°Oh~ Couldn¡¯t have been easy sending a message to a specific mind at a distance.¡±

    ¡°There is a special position in the interrogators. Someone who carries an old artifact that makes a mind stand out from a sea of thousands.¡±

    Talia looks over to him. ¡°You never told me this.¡±

    ¡°And why are you telling me this?¡± I ask.

    ¡°It¡¯s one of the secrets that comes with the title.¡± The look he gives her is heavy. ¡°The interrogators still have plenty to offer you. Far more than that creature.¡± He shoots a venomous gaze at Geneva. ¡°And I don¡¯t want it digging through my mind for the answer.¡±

    I chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re getting ahead of yourself.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Do whatever you want with me. I¡¯ve done my duty.¡±

    ¡°Did you?¡± It¡¯s mean to toy with him like this but I¡¯m enjoying it so much. ¡°Did you think I¡¯d let you do whatever you want? That message didn¡¯t reach anyone.¡±

    ¡°The spell wasn¡¯t interrupted.¡±

    ¡°Explain it to him, pet. Make sure to use small words, the mana strain might make it hard to focus.¡±

    Geneva steps away from the wall, smile switching from docile to predatory. ¡°Why would I stop you from wasting a large amount of mana and making yourself more manageable? Much better to simply distort the spell. Put a few obstacles in its path so it is twisted and distorted into a garbled mess.¡±

    ¡°Impossible! You expect me to believe a mere thrall was able to¡ª¡±

    Geneva laughs, tail whipping in amusement. ¡°It never gets old.¡±

    Remmings stops talking, simply staring at her. ¡°¡­you¡¯re not a thrall.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± I throw in, just in case he thinks she¡¯s lying.

    ¡°¡­the Grimoire patriarch. That is how you overpowered his virtue. You contracted a don.¡±

    I applaud by slapping my shoulder with one hand and drain my glass with the other. ¡°You got it in one!¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t make contracts. They make deals that always screw over their summoners. They¡¯re prideful beings that would never submit to the service of creatures they think are below them in every measure,¡± he says, voice growing more heated with every word.

    I¡¯m a little impressed. ¡°You know a lot.¡± Suppose that makes sense as the Grimoires were the interrogators¡¯ only competition for generations. ¡°But you don¡¯t know nearly as much as you think you do.¡±

    ¡°Succubi act for profit,¡± Geneva says, her smile a touch too large. ¡°If it serves a greater purpose, there is nothing beyond us.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re forgetting the more than human bit,¡± I say while shaking my glass at him. ¡°They don¡¯t look down on me.¡± They want to eat me, but each bite would be savored.

    ¡°You have a don under your control.¡± The head interrogator bows his head. It¡¯s probably being weighed down by a hundred harsh realizations. Chief of which must be that the group he leads is completely without options in regard to me. ¡°¡­what are you going to do with me?¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t decided yet. The night¡¯s still young.¡± And it¡¯s already so exciting.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-15

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯m next.¡±

    I want to tell her not to bother, as the look in her eye suggests trouble. Saints, Morgene is nothing but trouble. Besides, it¡¯s not as if our dinner has been full of peace and tolerance so far. If I were a more vengeful woman, I¡¯d call Remmings¡¯ attempt to send a message about us traitorous. Morgene will be hard-pressed to make more of a ruckus he would have caused if his little ploy succeeded.

    Or maybe not. I¡¯ve yet to see the powerful woman in action.

    I prepared myself for this when I arranged this dinner. So, I swallow my opinions with a swig of my drink as Morgene uncrosses her legs and leans over the table, chin held in one hand.

    ¡°I will be open, but I don¡¯t plan to share everything about my life. We don¡¯t have the time.¡± I believe her. As Kierra once said, it¡¯s the curse of those with ability to live interesting lives. I can¡¯t fathom the life someone like her has lived.

    ¡°The basics then. The Atainna started as a Twilight clan, seeking strength through claiming strong mates, using charm and cunning.¡± She smiles, as if daring the table to protest her ability to charm any creature into ¡°mating¡± with her. No one says anything. I don¡¯t think Remmings could say anything, even if he wanted. He¡¯s tossing back the shroom juice pretty hard.

    ¡°Twilighters are notoriously unstable. They¡¯re also known to be born with¡­defects of the mind with a startling frequency. We believe the matriarch that changed our path was both. She was also the pinnacle of the bloodline¡¯s breeding efforts. Izel Atainna, the Bloodied. No one knows if she received that title for the number of creatures she slew or for the intimidating number of children she birthed. Thirteen. Can you believe it?¡±

    Morgene shakes her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like much for a woman that lived three centuries but when you consider she did so without the assistance of a dedicated physical caster and plenty of unions struggle to conceive one, it¡¯s frankly ridiculous. A true monster, even without taking into account her four affinities.¡±

    If this were me two years ago, that announcement would have made me spit out my drink in shock. Maybe gape like an idiot. Remmings certainly reacts, almost choking on his drink. The rest of the table doesn¡¯t even flinch.

    It¡¯s impressive but not that impressive. There¡¯s an idiot running around Harvest with four affinities and he¡¯s far from praiseworthy. Just having the talent isn¡¯t enough.

    I¡¯ve learned that the hard way.

    Morgene isn¡¯t bothered by the table¡¯s irreverence. ¡°But she was nothing more than an inbred savage. Her daughter was the one who traveled to Dusk and won the throne. Said throne passed through my family two generations to be presented to me but I refused it, preferring to hone my own strength.

    ¡°As my partner was so quick to divulge, part of that included pulling grand capers across the five provinces to perfect my space shifting. Afterwards, I became a famous trapper, turning the world into an inescapable cage. Then, I became unrivaled. For nothing can hurt you if you can¡¯t be touched and nothing is a threat if it is locked away.¡±

    Orum huffs around a bite of buttery roll. ¡°Unrivaled is going too far.¡±

    She raises an elegant brow but concedes the point. ¡°Fine. Unrivaled in Dusk but there are plenty who can challenge me. The matriarchs of the draconid clans. Spirit, their poison eaters too, damn blights on the world. There¡¯s also High Nooners but those fanatics can hardly be counted. Their babes are weaned with wyvern blood.¡±

    She drains the wine in her glass. ¡°The strangest thing happened after I reached the heights of power. Suddenly, the old instincts of the matriarchs in my blood demanded I have spawn. Worse, they demanded I make sure the things be safe and prosperous before I could return to more personal pursuits.¡±

    Her expression turns into something soft, close to maternal. ¡°Kii is the youngest and the most troublesome by far. And that¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± She waves a hand and Geneva appears at her side, filling her glass. ¡°To make sure my precious daughter is happy and fulfilled. Also to watch my partner make a fool of himself. The Flesh Fiend of the Underwood playing diplomat. Practicing restraint.¡± She laughs. ¡°This is bound to end in comedy.¡±

    ¡°Father is making an admirable effort,¡± Kierra comments. Her hand touches his broad shoulder and that¡¯s all it takes to make him smile. Damn doting father.

    ¡°I will still test your partner on the field of battle and determine what she is made of by pulling out her insides.¡±

    Damn crazy violent doting father!

    ¡°You can try,¡± I grumble.

    ¡°But not before we finish our game,¡± Morgene says. ¡°I¡¯m enjoying learning about Kii¡¯s little friends. She never brought anyone home when she was young.¡±

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    ¡°Because you would make my friends have deathmatches with beasts of the forest.¡±

    ¡°Well, you don¡¯t make good hunters by letting children play with dolls. And they enjoyed eating said beasties after, didn¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Rondel did. He¡¯s the only one who came back after Tyrandal was mauled.¡± What goes unsaid is how that particular worm turned out.

    ¡°Ah, perhaps I¡¯m misremembering. Mm, yes. That was your sister¡¯s birthday party. They didn¡¯t fight beasts and she grew up to be a dancer of all things, flitting about with butterflies. I stand by my decision.¡±

    ¡°Spirit forbid you ever doubt yourself,¡± Orum grumbles.

    ¡°As much as I would enjoy extolling my virtues for hours, we have others at the table.¡± Her eyes move to Remmings, who¡¯s slowed down his consumption only because the shroom juice is making him clumsy, but passes him to land on Talia. ¡°I¡¯m very interested in hearing about Kii¡¯s flower. It¡¯s quite a surprise coming from my daughter who used to terrorize the Hiumura clan.¡±

    Oh hoh? Is my normally unrepentant wife blushing? ¡°The Hiumura sisters were spoiled children who thought they could flutter about and every young hunter would pander to them. Pretty idiots. It is an insult to compare our flower to that trash.¡± Ouch. Harsh words made harsher by the fact Kierra isn¡¯t the type to hurl around those kinds of insults casually.

    ¡°What is this flower nonsense?¡±

    Remmings says his first words since his plan was foiled and he was faced with the devastating realization of what Geneva is. Have to admit, his despair feels good. Not because I enjoy that kind of thing but because it¡¯s nice to have someone around that understands what she is.

    Alana understands conceptually but, at her core, she¡¯s a musclehead. She measures something¡¯s threat but how much stuff in can break strictly in the physical sense. All Kierra cares about is that Geneva works for us. The potential damage she can inflict is a bonus, if anything. Talia¡¯s the worst of the three. Pretty sure she admires the succubi, despite knowing exactly what they are and what they¡¯re capable of.

    Remmings? He looks like he¡¯s drinking to the end of the world.

    ¡°I gathered it was a pet name for a mistress, but it appears to be more? It would be nice to hear that my precious daughter isn¡¯t just a monster¡¯s plaything.¡±

    Orum looks at the other father at the table with something approaching sympathy. ¡°Few parents are happy to hear that their children are flowers, but you have nothing to worry about. Our Kii is honorable. She will care for your daughter for the rest of her life.¡±

    ¡°Flowers are a tradition of the Twilight clans,¡± Morgene says, voice slipping into the familiar cadence of a lecturer. ¡°Breeding is all about control. When you mix that with a heap of often equally horrifying and ridiculous traditions, as well as demented minds, it doesn¡¯t make for loving families. Sons are breeding stock to be used however the matriarch pleases, normally traded for other stock, and daughters are seen as competition.

    ¡°Originally, flowers were the daughters of powerful matriarchs who made themselves subservient to their mothers. Hm. It was something similar to insect ¡®princesses¡¯, females who are valuable as they lay eggs that grow the hive but have lesser authority than a queen. In return, the matriarch gave them territory to manage and helped them to secure good mates. A deal many took as it was dangerous for a daughter to start her own clan. If they even got the chance. There was a chance their mothers would slay them immediately if they refused.¡±

    ¡°The tradition means something else now,¡± Kierra says quickly after her mother pauses, shooting Morgene an annoyed glare. I don¡¯t blame her. Remmings is looking a little pale. ¡°Today, a flower is simply one that does not wish to dedicate themselves to the eternal pursuit of strength. In exchange for subordinating themselves to another, they are exempt from many of our more¡­dangerous traditions. It is like choosing not to participate in a game but tying your fate to one of the teams.¡±

    ¡°They are also generally caretakers,¡± Morgene continues, apparently no longer interested in horrifying us with elven history. ¡°It¡¯s not a hard requirement but it¡¯s standard for them to be homemakers or artisans. Though not every homemaker or artisan is a flower. A dangerous assumption to make.¡±

    ¡°A ladle can be more dangerous than a sword in the right hands,¡± Orum says with a sagely nod.

    ¡°¡­so a mistress,¡± Remmings says drolly. He reaches for his cup and finds it empty, but that problem is solved by Geneva placing a full bottle of Herbanacle next to him. He eyes it for a moment before screwing off the top and putting it to his lips, cup be damned.

    ¡°Teacher?¡±

    He pauses, wiping away the shroom juice that dribbles from his lips as he turns to her.

    ¡°You belong to the crown.¡±

    He scowls. ¡°I work for the king.¡±

    Her lips turn up in a micro expression of amusement. ¡°You do what he tells you, when he tells you. Yes?¡±

    The head interrogator grudgingly nods his acknowledgment of being the king¡¯s dog.

    ¡°In return, he gives you gold, limited authority, and protection.¡±

    ¡°What are you trying to say?¡±

    ¡°I do what my clan wants when they want. In return, I get vastly more wealth, far more authority as it is directly tied to their power, protection by that power, a vastly extended lifespan, and personal power trained by the most accomplished mental caster on the continent. I also was given sight.¡± Her expression widens, becoming more noticeable and gaining a faint touch of smugness. ¡°I would also wager that I enjoy my work far more than you. I have the far better deal.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not the same!¡± he roars, slamming a fist on the table.

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not work! You¡¯re¡­selling yourself to these¡­these¡­¡±

    ¡°Everyone who does any kind of work is selling themselves. Even marriage is a trade, one person giving themselves for another person.¡±

    ¡°¡­but don¡¯t you want to fall in love?¡± Remmings asks with a bit of desperation. ¡°Live as you want? Have children?¡±

    Her smile morphs into a frown of confusion, the expression so clear I¡¯m sure it¡¯s one of her practiced expressions. A bit of extra flourish to help her father-guardian understand her. ¡°I¡¯m living as I want. No one forced me. As for children, Lou and Kierra seem to like the idea so I assume I will have them at some point.¡±

    The poor man looks absolutely defeated. ¡°I suppose you want my blessing.¡±

    ¡°It would be nice, considering if you don¡¯t enthusiastically support our union, you may die tonight.¡±

    ¡°I understand your offense now, daughter,¡± Morgene eventually says into the ensuing silence.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-16

    ¡°And you? I can¡¯t quite figure you out.¡±

    It¡¯s Alana turn to face the inquiring gazes of Kierra¡¯s parents. So far, my blond hero has been distracting herself with food and drink. Being faced with their attention, she stiffens like a doe in the sight of predators but she doesn¡¯t shy away. I stifle the urge to cheer her on as she meets Morgene¡¯s gaze. ¡°Alana James. I fight titans.¡±

    ¡°Another fighter in the clan, huh.¡± Morgene constantly moves when she talks. She slithers and slides like a damn snake. Tiny movements that make the eyes latch onto her, follow her. Makes it impossible to relax around her. ¡°Are you also hiding an entertaining secret under your skin? Perhaps I should search for it while Orum plays with Lou.¡±

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    Her gaze snaps to me.

    ¡°Same thing as when Kierra introduced us.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Alana huffs, annoyed. Whether she¡¯s annoyed that I just defended her, I had to, or because of something else I don¡¯t know.

    ¡°It means she will not do something unsporting,¡± Kierra answers. ¡°It is unseemly for a fighter to target someone that cannot offer a proper fight.¡±

    The explanation doesn¡¯t make Alana feel better. I¡¯d wager it did the opposite, but she doesn¡¯t lash out, soldiering through whatever morose thoughts are behind her stern frown. ¡°You¡¯ll get a ¡®proper fight¡¯ one day.¡±

    ¡°Cute. At least she has spine.¡±

    ¡°And a moral compass,¡± I add, feeling an urge to extol her virtues. What feels like a lifetime ago when I sat across from Morgene for the first time, I was relieved when she dismissed me as her daughter¡¯s human fascination. I still wouldn¡¯t care if she continued to ignore me. Seriously, I mean it. There is something very unnerving about her attention. Probably the stories about her Twilighter ancestors working on my nerves.

    However, I hate the idea of her dismissing Alana. She may not be the strongest, or the most talented, or the smartest, or, er. Well. She¡¯s not the best at anything but there¡¯s a part of me that still thinks she¡¯s the best of us. She doesn¡¯t like me calling her a hero or a saint, but I can¡¯t help seeing her as both. And knowing that there¡¯s a saint beside me makes me better.

    ¡°She has a light affinity and a great sense for battle. Braver than both of us combined. Probably comes from fighting titans, creatures as big as walking hills and that wield the strongest magic I¡¯ve ever seen. Won¡¯t be long before¡ªoof.¡±

    I look over at Alana to as her foot that just kicked my ankle retreats to see her face flushed the faintest hint of pink. Can someone stop themselves from blushing? The strain in her expression says she¡¯s trying. ¡°What she¡¯s saying is, I¡¯m still training but I¡¯m not a flower.¡±

    ¡°That much is obvious.¡± Morgene sets her glass down and slowly stands. ¡°Good, everyone¡¯s been introduced. Is that good enough?¡±

    Orum is the next to stand. ¡°It is time.¡±

    Saints, what happened?! We were all having a proper conversation and¡­and well I guess they were just playing along. This is what they¡¯re here for. Everything else was just buildup. Sigh.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Ah, well. I do think we¡¯ve made progress as a clan. I wouldn¡¯t wager that they approve of us, but they clearly don¡¯t hate us either¡­I think? Which was a serious concern with Orum. Given our first meeting was him trying to kill me, tonight has been nothing but progress. Shying away from their traditions isn¡¯t going to improve anything.

    Geneva.

    Remmings jumps as the succubus suddenly appears behind and puts her hands on his shoulders. I¡¯m not surprised when he doesn¡¯t fight. ¡°I apologize for this,¡± I say as I slowly stand. ¡°You have no reason to believe me, but I hate flippant use of the mental affinity. What the Grimoires did to the minds of innocents was disgusting and I hate doing anything that reminds me of them.

    ¡°But you are no innocent and this isn¡¯t flippant. The king is no friend of mine and, if the saints don¡¯t descend and talk sense to him, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s going to be an enemy. Can¡¯t have you slipping him crucial information and I¡¯m obviously not going to believe you if you say you won¡¯t. Don¡¯t worry. You won¡¯t be hurt.¡±

    ¡°There is no guaranteeing that,¡± he says with a sigh. ¡°You¡¯re taking a blade to my memory. Who knows what will get nicked?¡±

    Geneva chuckles and leans against his chair, crossing her arms over his chest. ¡°Mastery is control. If you have no control, then you are not a master, boy. So long as my summoner demands I leave you unharmed, then my magic will not so much as touch anything that it doesn¡¯t need to.¡±

    ¡°And let¡¯s leave it there.¡± It¡¯s bad enough he, a mental master, is about to be humbled by having someone stick their fingers in his mind with far more skill than he can even imagine. No need to make it worse by letting Geneva emasculate him.

    ¡°Lou.¡± I turn to Talia. She is watching Geneva and her father-guardian impassively. Some might be unnerved by her cool pragmatism in this situation, as the expected action would be for her to heatedly object to his treatment, but I find it nothing but admirable. Her actions could be deemed cold, but I see it as resoluteness. She has tied her fate to us. Remmings acted against us. It truly is as simple as that to her. That decisiveness of hers is impressive. ¡°May I?¡±

    I have no idea what she¡¯s asking but¡­ ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°You are to replace his memories of tonight¡¯s conversation where we discussed Lou¡¯s humanity and the possibility of dragons of the north with something innocuous but believable given the context of the dinner. You will erase any possible triggers that could make him question the new memories. You will not leave behind any triggers or clues that would make him suspect mental interference. You will not influence his mind in any other way. You will not cause him pain if it is in anyway avoidable but, if he comes to harm, you will heal hm as soon as it¡¯s possible without interfering with your task of altering his memories of tonight.¡±

    She turns to me when she finishes. ¡°Treat those orders as if they came from me,¡± I say numbly, still contemplating her wording. Saints, the part about replacing his memories instead of just wiping them is genius. I don¡¯t doubt Geneva¡¯s work but he¡¯s the head interrogator and knows I have succubi. When he sits down to write up a report about tonight, he¡¯ll be doing it in the company of suspicious mental casters. Of course they¡¯d notice if he has gaps in his memory. It¡¯d only be logical to assume mental interference.

    Whether they could unravel Geneva¡¯s work is a mystery, as brute force can accomplish a lot¡­unless she wants them to. Then they¡¯d definitely find out. Damn it straight to the Abyss, there¡¯s a whole other dimension to the mental affinity that I don¡¯t consider when I give that creature orders, isn¡¯t there?

    ¡°As expected of my daughter.¡± He speaks in a grumble but there is a distinct note of pride in Remmings¡¯ voice. He slowly pushes up from his chair, still holding onto the bottle of Herbanacle. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with it.¡± He lays a hand on Talia¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Whatever else can be said about your decision, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re not neglecting your talent.¡±

    ¡°Never.¡±

    Geneva¡¯s tail swings with amusement as she follows him out of the dining room. Watching them leave feels terrible. I¡¯m a complete villain now, aren¡¯t I? Not that long ago, it would have been a struggle to give Geneva that order. Tonight, it didn¡¯t take a thought. As soon as he tried to send that message, I immediately resolved myself. Wasn¡¯t even a question.

    Too bad good intentions aren¡¯t a quarter as efficient as ruthlessness.

    Ah, well. I may walk a darker path, but I won¡¯t lack for company. I have my lovers, my servants, my cousins, my few friends, and now my in-laws who are eagerly following me to the field behind the estate so they can pull me apart to see what¡¯s inside.

    There are worse lives to live.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-17-Orum

    Orum knew he would have to watch his daughter give her heart to another one day. It was hard to imagine when she was stumbling around, somehow rolling into trouble despite not having the strength to walk, but as she grew with every passing day, that remote reality became more pressing. His Kii was a sweet thing. She inherited her mother¡¯s bloodlust but also the healing heart of his clan. A beautiful heart wrapped in a pretty package. A treasure of the provinces.

    But he worried for her. She came from a powerful bloodline of matriarchs. The Atainnas broke away from their Twilight origins and civilized, to a degree. Yet, the danger hadn¡¯t passed. Morgene¡¯s tale was the core of his worry.

    The madness that sparked the torrid history of the clans ran deep and lust tended to bring it to the fore. His Kii was precious, but he feared the day she found love, afraid the powerful desire would awaken the instincts of her ancestors. He had come to love Morgene, but that love would forever be tainted by their meeting. When he imagined his daughter hunting down a mate and breaking them, it made his heart hurt and his stomach turn.

    For her safety, and perhaps the safety of dozens of souls, Kierra¡¯s dedia, the one she chose to share her heart with, had to meet a specific set of criteria.

    The first was strength. Overwhelming strength, both of body and mind. Orum and Morgene usually aligned in how to raise her, even if their decisions were motivated by very different reasonings. Orum instilled discipline over self because he wanted Kierra to be more than her legacy. Morgene insisted on discipline because she saw control as power.

    However, it was hard to for a creature to deny itself. There were stories of physical casters who used their magic to control every facet of themselves, able to exert influence on their emotions. In those stories, those casters all became monsters in some way, as to put the heart in chains was to take away personhood. A person was how they responded to the world.

    Orum would never ask Kierra to be anything other than who she was. Nor would she blame her for her blood. That¡¯s why he put his hope in the one she chose. Her instincts would tell her to hunt, capture, and dominate. Once that rock started rolling down that hill, there would be no stopping it from crushing the poor souls in its path.

    But if her lover proved too strong, like Orum faced with the insurmountable obstacle that was his dedia convinced she was doing what needed to be done to save her child, Kierra would be forced to adapt. To realize that desire didn¡¯t have to be linked to violence and death.

    ¡°Er, are there rules to this?¡±

    Lourianne Tome. The creature wore a human face but was far from. If its apparent discomfort as they stood facing each other on the field behind the large house was false, the onlookers standing two dozen steps away, then she was a masterful actress. The only reason he considered it might be faking at all was because he knew it possessed formidable power.

    It wasn¡¯t easy to raze a settlement. The level of power needed wasn¡¯t rare. Unleashing that power with hundreds or thousands of souls trying to thwart it? No simple feat. The best of the best, even those that tended to stay out of combat, would have stood up. From what he knew, the best of the humans didn¡¯t compare in the slightest to the best of the provinces, but numbers had their own strength.

    In terms of combat power, Lou met his first criteria. As for strength of the mind, he¡¯d yet to make up his mind. It had a skittish nature about it, especially when talking to Morgene, that concerned him. Kierra didn¡¯t have either of their stubbornness, but she could be obstinate when she wanted. It would take a formidable heart to stand up to her when her mind was made up. He didn¡¯t see that in Lou¡­most of the time.

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    Though every now and again, he saw something in its violet gaze. A shadow of the intensity veterans who sailed across the sea to fight in great wars or climbed the Sacred Tree more than once had. There was much to be desired there but there was a seed that could be nurtured.

    Orum raised both hands. ¡°A verbal surrender or this gesture immediately ends the bout. To win, you must completely seal the movements of your opponent for ten seconds, exhaust their mana, or strike a fatal blow that they don¡¯t heal in ten seconds.¡±

    ¡°A fatal blow? You guys are, er, I mean sure. Yup. Pretty simple.¡±

    The second criteria Orum had for Kierra¡¯s partner was that they have strong beliefs that leaned toward just. He didn¡¯t want or expect her to love someone that was a paragon of virtue. It would never work. His daughter had as much darkness in her as she did light. What determined which side held sway was her environment.

    If she was left in peace, she would be at peace, but if someone came seeking war, she would happily revel in bloodshed. He didn¡¯t want to change that. Couldn¡¯t, even if he wanted to. What he hoped was that she would choose to spend her life with someone who would encourage the light.

    In that regard, Lou was perfect. If not for the broken city, he would think the creature was a flower. Better, there was an actual flower in the clan. Few still followed the tradition properly, but he knew his daughter had claimed the woman with the strange eyes the old way.

    A flower wasn¡¯t simply cared for. That would make them no different from family. They were carefully raised, pampered to the full extent of their patron¡¯s ability. The state of a flower was a direct representation of said ability, so a true patron poured everything into the one they claimed.

    Caring for anything with such fervor changed a person. One couldn¡¯t practice love so extensively and not let that love into their heart. For a long time, the practice kept powerful warriors that slew souls by the hundreds in every battle grounded, reminded them that there was more to the world than blood. A constant pull on the light inside her, keeping it ever-present.

    For that, Lou and the nascent Tome clan got resounding approval.

    The third thing Orum expected of Kierra¡¯s partner was matching potential. The Atainnas were a blessed line, a culmination of physical and magical potential obtained through generations of careful breeding. What Morgene hadn¡¯t said about her legendary great-grandmother was that two of her four affinities were greater affinities, null and physical, as well as that the woman had a prodigious physique. He abhorred the practices of the clans¡­but there was something to be said for the argument of preserving a bloodline. He would never go as far as to arrange a union, but he also wouldn¡¯t sit by if she wanted to roll around with some mongrel.

    From the moment he¡¯d met Lou, he started assessing its strength. He couldn¡¯t do an in-depth examination without being obvious but by adjusting his senses and paying attention, he could learn a lot. Such as that it walked on the tip of its toes, as its weight made the wooden floors of their home creak with strain. The careful way it held her cup and utensils when eating. The slow, incredibly slow, beat of its heart that gave off the impression of a great beast¡¯s lumbering steps. The faint trace of poison he could smell coming off it. He especially noted the definition of its muscles as it shrugged off its shirt.

    There was also the mystery of its shapeshifting. In the case of its potential, it also met the criteria.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯m ready. There a start signal?¡±

    The last criteria he had was more flexible. One he didn¡¯t care about much but would like to see.

    His daughter was beautiful. He¡¯d love her even if she had the face of a troll, but he would be lying if he said her charm didn¡¯t play a part in his affection. He was looking forward to holding his grandchildren. His cute, beautiful as every Atainna, grandchildren. Their blood was strong but not so strong it could beautify the influence of a truly hideous face.

    He wasn¡¯t too worried about his daughter mating with a creature with a face like a maggot¡¯s. Her mate having a face like Lou¡¯s¡­he wasn¡¯t worried about his grandchildren lacking charm.

    In all ways, Lou fit his ideals. After their bout, he would gladly welcome it to the family and recruit it in foiling Morgene¡¯s continued schemes. He had no doubt she would cause trouble when she realized she wouldn¡¯t have the bloodsport she desired.

    After.

    This was still the creature that spirited away his daughter. Was likely mounting her every night. The female shell it wore couldn¡¯t fool his nose.

    He couldn¡¯t imagine a father that wouldn¡¯t feel fury with that kind of picture in their minds. He was owed a bit of its pain. Or maybe a lot of it. But afterwards, he would welcome it wholeheartedly.

    ¡°Start.¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-18

    ¡°Start.¡±

    Between sparring with Kierra and the truly unfortunate number of troubles I stumble into, I¡¯d like to say I have a lot of experience in combat. Am I a skilled fighter? There¡¯s plenty of room to improve but I¡¯m far from the worst. Better, I have a lot of experience fighting powerful fighters. The monsters of the world.

    That experience tells me not to blink when I hear Orum speak. And it¡¯s a good thing I don¡¯t. In a fraction of that time, he¡¯s in front of me, fist coming at my face. I don¡¯t even think to deflect it, noting from his eyes that he moved that fast without using a scrap of magic. He¡¯s got a body that¡¯s at least as powerful as mine. Add on what I¡¯m guessing is an impressive core and several decades of experience using it, the last thing I want to do is get into a contest of strength with him.

    It¡¯s not that I¡¯m afraid of losing. I can¡¯t lose. Especially if he¡¯s not seriously trying to kill me. This isn¡¯t about who wins or loses. Kierra talked to me as we were preparing for tonight, giving me a little insight into her father.

    He doesn¡¯t hates me, though I doubt he likes me. He sees it as his duty to make sure that the one that she¡¯s chosen is worthy of her. And while we don¡¯t need his approval, I want to ease his mind. I¡¯m not going to do that by getting slapped around and standing back up. I need to show what I can do. Put every tidbit of skill I have on display.

    I dodge the blow in the smallest margin I can, almost getting hit when the fist suddenly changes trajectory. I also dodge the follow up strike. The tiny limb of bone that grows from his waist, thin and I imagine sharp, is completely unexpected. Thankfully, it¡¯s too weak to pierce my tough skin as I¡¯m focused on countering. I let out an undignified yelp as he grabs my wrist, keeping me still as he kicks me full force in the chest, eyes glowing with mana. Without letting go of my wrist.

    Pain. Incredible, mind-erasing pain. I barely register being launched backward and skipping across the ground. Saints damn it! The only thing that even comes close to this is the memory of being stabbed, and by close I mean not close at all.

    My side is slick with blood, pouring liberally from the ragged wound of my shoulder where an arm used to be attached. It takes a few moments to move past the pain and transform. There¡¯s a moment when I¡¯m an ooze, free of pain, growing and writhing¡ª

    And then the next moment I¡¯m me, whole and healthy.

    I push to my feet and see Orum holding my arm, eyes still glowing. His eyes turn to me as he throws the arm away. ¡°Your body is incredible. You are grossly underusing its potential. I imagine my daughter taught you to brawl?¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t much of a fighter before I met her,¡± I say through grit teeth, fighting the dread of facing him. At least with Kierra, the pain is a little sexy. Oh, who am I kidding? There¡¯s nothing sexy about having a limb torn off, even if she¡¯s the one doing it.

    ¡°Mm. Do you surrender?¡±

    Maybe I should just ooze the man? Would that help? He¡¯d be a speck, even if I compress myself to the limit. If he¡¯s half as fast as his daughter, I¡¯d be a clumsy bob waving my tentacles ineffectually as he dances around me. Studying me and how to take me apart. The thought makes my stomach clench. ¡°You wish. Come on.¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    In less than a blink, he¡¯s on me¡­and in the middle of a heatwave hot enough to make his skin blister as soon as he makes contact. He doesn¡¯t even flinch. It¡¯s the same blow, the exact same punch. But with ridiculous speed, half a dozen insectile limbs erupt from his back, glistening with I don¡¯t want to know what, the ends sharp as daggers. Seven attacks, from different angles. Can¡¯t dodge them. Can¡¯t block them. Can¡¯t¡ª

    Move!

    I run forward, his fist snapping my head to the side but doing nothing to stop me from tackling him to the ground. I scream as six points of pain erupt in my back and channel all my rage into biting him in the neck, infusing a paralytic into my saliva.

    In response, the bastard digs his limbs deeper. And that¡¯s his mistake. Bastard shouldn¡¯t have made this a competition of endurance. I pull on a form I haven¡¯t used in a long time, mouth turning into a muzzle as I try to savage my opponent. My teeth slip off something hard when I go for his throat. What¡ªis that bone?! He covered his whole¡ª

    My thoughts are cut off by Orum headbutting me. The pain in my back flares again as I¡¯m lifted off him and thrown aside. I don¡¯t have a choice. It¡¯s exactly how I didn¡¯t want this to go but he¡¯s not making this easy. I transform twice, the pain disappears, and I¡¯m back on my feet. Display of skill? What a joke. I¡¯ve always been a bag of meat that doesn¡¯t stay down and hits hard.

    Whatever damage I managed to inflict on Orum is gone. He doesn¡¯t even look drowsy after being hit with a big dose of a toxin that managed to overwhelm Kierra¡¯s pure affinity. Granted, she¡¯d already used up a lot of her mana by that time but still. At least have the decency to stumble.

    I¡¯m so outclassed.

    ¡°That was good, charging me.¡± His eyes are glowing with the most intensity I¡¯ve ever seen. It¡¯s almost like there are two tiny lamps behind his eyes. ¡°Reckless, but better than freezing. Your poison is also very potent. Rather than ineffectually drooling on your opponents, you would be better served bottling it. If not to use in combat, then to sell. The clans would pay your weight in precious metal and gems for it.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the advice,¡± I grumble. I really hope I can find a way not to hold this against him when it¡¯s over. I hope, but I doubt it.

    ¡°Do you surrender?¡±

    I should. ¡°Do I look like I need to surrender?¡±

    ¡°Very well. Come at me.¡±

    ¡­I have to come at him?

    Alright. Let¡¯s see how you handle this.

    I sprint forward and Orum raises his guard, patiently waiting for my attack. I¡¯m gratified that his eyes widen just a little as I stop short and spin. There¡¯s a weird strain in me somewhere I can¡¯t name as I pull on the form of the leviathan, following my will and appearing mid-swing. It¡¯s a whole lot of mass coming at him as fast as one of my punches. I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll kill him but, hopefully, Kierra¡¯s paying¡ª

    Eh?

    I¡­just felt resistance. The giant monster tentacle that could flatten multiple buildings, probably a saints damned hill, stops and falls to the ground. I dismiss the useless limb that would just weigh me down, revealing Orum. His guard is raised and his feet planted in a wide stance. There¡¯s no trace of his green skin. His whole body is covered in a strange black growth that adds a significant bulk to his already large form.

    ¡°Your gift is remarkable.¡± The black growth around him shatters before falling to the ground. Reaching down, he grabs a piece of his shedding and holds it up. ¡°The bones of a creature I hunted across the seas. Plant humanoids whose bark like skin eventually becomes so hard they can no longer move. They also have a technique of sprouting roots from their feet for stability. Your trick forced me to burn quite a bit of mana, but it was ultimately simple to counter.¡±

    Is he¡­is he teaching me?

    ¡°Do you surrender?¡±

    I really, really should.

    But we¡¯re bonding right now. I can feel it.

    Or maybe I¡¯m still feeling that headbutt despite my transformations.

    Sigh.

    Gathering my courage and consoling my crying ego, I rush him.

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-19 (Kierra)

    Few things inspired concern in Kierra.

    Wyverns were chief on that list. Arrogance ran in the Atainna blood but only a fool didn¡¯t respect the sovereigns of the world. Their closest relatives could be nearly as frightful. She salivated at the idea of challenging draconids, even dragons themselves, but she didn¡¯t do so carelessly or fearlessly.

    Second on the list was a cage she could not break out of. She didn¡¯t know if she could survive another indefinite imprisonment. She knew she couldn¡¯t endure decades of silence a second time without losing her mind. Her Lou was a once in a lifetime encounter. There would be no more cute, naive, irrationally gifted, natural shapeshifters dropping into her life to relieve her loneliness again. More than the experience, she feared what she would become after decades alone once more.

    Madness also ran in the Atainna blood.

    But third on the list of Kierra¡¯s worries, well deserved to considered amongst dragons and madness, was her mother. Oh, she didn¡¯t fear the normal Morgene. For all her faults and oddness, Kierra understood her mother. Most times, she was a caring woman, in her own way. She may have set Kierra against horrific beasts and terrible struggles, but she did so with the complete belief that they would make her stronger. And when she emerged victorious, for there was no other option, Morgene nursed her back to health. Congratulated her. Hired or threatened others into making her favorite foods or custom weapons. She was a mother, with all it entailed.

    The problem was when Morgene the Warrior emerged. If Kierra had to point to one trait that defined her mother, it was ambition. Everything she aspired to, she had to exceed in it. It didn¡¯t matter if it was as a fighter, a thief, a general, or a mother. She was driven by a need for greatness and to achieve it, there was little she would not do. Even less she wouldn¡¯t sacrifice.

    It was not Morgene the Mother that watched the bout between Lou and her father with an intensity that would make a Twilight matriarch blush. If it were, she would be smiling and laughing, enjoying a display of her partner¡¯s prowess. Or perhaps she would be frowning, making scathing critiques while pointing out Lou¡¯s failings. Perhaps a mixture of both. Whatever her reaction, it would be vastly preferable to the silence she stood in, body rigid with tension.

    It was so unnerving, Kierra couldn¡¯t stand it. ¡°Mother?¡±

    Despite being prompted, Morgene didn¡¯t look at her. ¡°Do you see it?¡± she asked, her voice clipped, reminding Kierra of days spent in harsh training, practicing the same sword forms until they met the woman¡¯s approval.

    ¡°I see Father has become much faster in his fleshcrafting.¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± Morgene hissed. ¡°You¡¯re preparing to defend your little lover but I¡¯m not about to criticize her. The opposite. You¡¯ve been with her much longer, seen her transform dozens of times. Tell me, do you see it?¡±

    ¡°Lou¡¯s shapeshifting ability is incredible¡ª"

    She stopped as her mother hissed, dark green eyes narrowed in reproach turning to her. Kierra frowned as a strong hand grabbed her shoulder and squeezed it painfully. ¡°I won¡¯t fault you for enjoying your union. Blades dull when they¡¯re not put to good use and no one can always remain vigilant, not even me. But you and I are going to have words if you do not open. Your. Eyes!¡±

    ¡°¡­I am not a child,¡± Kierra grumbled but she swallowed her rising offense and turned back to the bout. She smiled as she watched Lou and Orum wrestling on the ground, a ball of writhing, shifting flesh as they used their changing shapes to break grapples, claw, and snap at one another. It was a ludicrous display. Her father had already demonstrated that he could handily beat Lou. She could only assume that he was playing with her, fighting on her level to understand her better. Or maybe he was bored. Orum outclassed Lou in skill but in stamina, Lou was peerless. But no matter how much she looked, she couldn¡¯t see what had interested her mother. Something she was loathed to admit.

    Her silence did it for her. After several minutes, Morgene clicked her tongue. ¡°I suppose I shouldn¡¯t blame you. Sometimes, I think that pure affinity of yours is nothing but a burden. Everything comes to you so easily, it¡¯s taken the hunger out of your journey. Because you have the answer to every problem, you don¡¯t know how to ask questions. How do I make this faster? How to I cut this mana cost? What variables can replicate the natural abilities of this manabeast or the signature spell of a rival? While I, dear daughter, seek inspiration everywhere. Your partner is certainly inspiring.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°¡­will you tell me what you see?¡±

    ¡°Not what I see. What I sense. What I taught you to sense.¡±

    ¡°The ripples of disturbed space.¡± Kierra¡¯s brows furrowed as she looked at the scene again with a new perspective owed to the clue given to her. Still, she saw nothing.

    ¡°The transformations,¡± her mother hisses. ¡°Every time she takes a new form, space shifts. You told me she was taller than the tallest buildings in Quest and that there was a limit to how much she could compress her body. Do you think a creature that large can fit into a human-sized skin?¡±

    ¡°She must.¡± She did, time and time again. ¡°And I would feel it if there were space magics happenings.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but would you? I taught you to feel the change in the space around you. But what if there is no change? What if, the space around you is constantly being disturbed? Could you feel the ripple a stone makes while standing in the rapids of a powerful river?¡±

    ¡°You mean to say that Lou is constantly disturbing space?¡±

    ¡°Where else would all of that mass be?¡± Morgene grinned. If Lou saw it, she¡¯d recognize it as Kierra¡¯s own ¡°bloodthirsty¡± smile. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, my poor, lovestruck daughter, that your little lover is not only currently disturbing space, but she is also constantly sustaining her own realm, a pocket space where she extends the rest of the mass that she isn¡¯t using.¡±

    ¡°¡­impossible.¡±

    The grin widened, becoming something manic. ¡°Oh, it should be impossible. I¡¯d have laughed you out of my tree if you tried to tell me as much. But I can¡¯t deny what I can see and feel.¡±

    ¡°Would we not be able to see a trail of ooze leading to this supposed¡­pocket realm?¡±

    ¡°We would, if it were on this layer.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s brows rose. ¡°Maintaining a separate realm, no matter how small, on another layer of space would be¡ª"

    ¡°Ridiculously costly even if someone managed to figure out the spell,¡± her mother finished for her. ¡°There are masters, our masters, that have dreamed of creating their own worlds but gave up on the idea when simply maintaining a space no bigger than a pocket drained their core to nothing. Yet that thing¡ª"

    ¡°Woman,¡± Kierra hissed. ¡°Whatever she can do or skin she decides to wear, she is my Lou.¡±

    Her offense broke on her mother¡¯s exasperation, the older woman going as far as to roll her eyes. ¡°Distinguishing her from her mortal origins was meant as a compliment. But very well. That woman is doing something generations of elves deemed impossible, passively. She is breaking our collective understanding of magic with the same ease you and I breathe. And, judging from your lack of understanding, you didn¡¯t even realize. Does she?¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡±

    ¡°So. Am I right in saying that none of you have explored that absolute miracle of creation? In a magical sense, not the carnal.¡±

    Kierra fought back a laugh. ¡°Not extensively.¡±

    ¡°What are you waiting for? Time waits for no one, not even immortals.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember what you were like in your second decade?¡±

    ¡°Spirit. Are you trying to make me feel old?¡± Morgene sighed under her daughter¡¯s deadpan look, shaking her head. ¡°Most of the years before my sixth decade are a haze. Of studying.¡±

    She chuckled. ¡°My mother saw my affinity as a tool meant to enrich the province. She tried to shelter me, can you believe it? Refused to allow me into training, as I was too valuable to risk. Of course, her disapproval sent me right into training. I was determined to prove that the null affinity could be just as deadly as any other, that I was as dangerous as any other Atainna. It wasn¡¯t until I was older that I slowed down enough to realize that she was right, that my potential was wasted as a simple brawler.¡±

    ¡°So, would you say it took you sixty years to mature enough to properly begin to understand your magic?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡±

    ¡°Lou has just reached her second decade.¡±

    Morgene paused, her frown easing. ¡°¡­I see.¡±

    ¡°She will get there.¡±

    ¡°Or she will drown in her own incompetence.¡± She raised a hand to forestall Kierra¡¯s reflexive defense. ¡°Her circumstances are unique. She is unique. That makes her a target and she doesn¡¯t have a monarch to protect her. For all my recklessness as a girl, I always knew my mother was waiting in the wings with all of Dusk¡¯s forces to protect me from the worst consequences of my actions. You¡¯re talented Kii, but you¡¯re no army. It¡¯s enough for these humans, I suppose, but what happens when the other races hear of her? Spirit, what happens when the matriarchs learn of her? You know they will. They always do.¡±

    ¡°We will be ready,¡± Kierra hissed, one hand flexing. She knew the threat of the clans very well and, perhaps wrongly, in her mind, they were a much greater threat than whatever lurked in the north. They didn¡¯t know what waited beyond the Bleak Peaks but one thing that put Kierra¡¯s mind at ease was that the estrazi had resorted to deception. They didn¡¯t want to challenge Lou. Even if it was just a fear of the consequences should the two sides do battle, it was a sign of weakness.

    The clans would not show weakness. For a morsel as enticing as her love, the warring matriarchs would band together and wage a war against all of humanity. For generations, if that¡¯s what it took. Their dedication and their insanity would put the Victorians to shame.

    ¡°Of course you will.¡± Kierra tried not to make a face as her mother patted her head, something she hadn¡¯t done since she was a girl. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure of it.¡±

    A cold premonition made Kierra shiver as she took in her mother¡¯s smile. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-20

    ¡°Do you want to know what your problem is?¡±

    Lying on the ground and panting for breath, it takes a moment for my mind to process his words. I¡¯m not out of breath, of course. After a fresh transformation, I¡¯m in peak condition, as I always am. My heavy breathing must be a stress response. While there isn¡¯t a single wound on my body, my ego is in pieces.

    Three things determine a caster¡¯s strength: talent, knowledge, and mana. Of them, I¡¯ve always considered talent to be the most important. Still do. Saints, I¡¯m a perfect example. Before my transformation, I wouldn¡¯t even have the qualifications to be noticed by monsters like the Atainna clan. But Orum has definitely proved the value of knowledge.

    ¡°Your problem is that you do not feel the change,¡± Kierra¡¯s father continues before I can puzzle out whether his question was rhetorical or not. ¡°Your shapeshifting ability is unparalleled, but your control is horrible. Taking another form is more than growing fangs and claws. To use a creature¡¯s strengths, you must embody them. Become them. It is written that the old masters would spend 1,000 days in a new form before even attempting to use it in combat.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a waste of time,¡± I grumble as I sit up in the person-sized crater Orum created when he slammed me into the ground. Damn elves and their physical affinities.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Well, because¡­¡± I trail off as I remember something important. Everyone doesn¡¯t have my body¡¯s instincts. Every new form I have comes with basic instincts that mean I don¡¯t have to waste time trying to learn how to use new limbs or breathe properly. Regular casters have to learn from nothing, don¡¯t they? I can¡¯t imagine what that must feel like, being in a body you have no idea how to work. Sure, it¡¯d get easier with time like everything else, but that first transformation would be interesting, for sure. ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Good, you realized the folly in your own words. A proper shifter knows each of their forms intimately, down to every hair and nail. You lack even the most basic understanding. For example, your partial transformation of the enormous limb. Only good for shock and awe. There is a reason such creatures reside in the sea. By taking its form on dry land, you were only able to bring out a fraction of its capability. Or truly, none. For all intents, it was just a club of meat.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I had a better option.¡±

    ¡°You do not realize all your options so how do you know?¡± He points at me. ¡°The first step is learning to use that body properly. You crippled yourself learning from Kii. Your bodies are very different and you do yourself a disservice trying to move it as she moves hers.¡±

    ¡°It seems you plan to cripple her again.¡±

    I stiffen as the familiar voice makes me turn around. I fight to keep the horror off my face as Morgene stops at the edge of my crater, lips pressed in a serious frown, dark green eyes narrowed. Standing at her shoulder is a dismayed Kierra. My wife¡¯s eyes meet mine, communicating a quiet horror with me that makes me want to take her by the hand and run away.

    Reflexively, the rising tension prompts me to search for Alana and Talia, who¡¯ve both wisely stayed away and seem perfectly fine. A quick scan of the surroundings reveal a confusing lack of threats. What has Kierra so worried? Besides close proximity with her mother. That¡¯s enough to put anyone on edge but she looks¡­scared.

    Very little frightens my lovely savage. So little, I can¡¯t even imagine it.

    ¡°If she wants to realize her potential, what she must do is explore that other, much more fascinating form.¡± Those eyes turn to me and I shiver at the look in them. That¡¯s the look a miser observing his life savings. Or a glutton surveying the feast they¡¯re about to devour. ¡°Kii tells me you call it ooze? Such a demeaning term for something so miraculous.¡±

    ¡°A shifter¡¯s strength comes from their versatility,¡± Orum answers. ¡°You will not question me on matters of the body.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°I would not. As you know better than to question me on matters of magic and this clumsy pup¡¯s magical potential far outstrips any capability she has as a shifter.¡±

    I do my best to look at Kierra discretely, using a curled lip and scrunched brows to ask if she told her mother about my seven affinities. I doubt it, as Kierra has made it clear that her loyalty lies with us and our fledgling clan, but I also wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Morgene interrogated her successfully. The woman has an air about her that says she could wring blood from a stone if she was motivated to do so.

    ¡°Erm.¡± My in-laws stop glaring at one another and turn to me. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Does she know something about my base form and Cosmo? Or did she simply guess?

    ¡°That¡¯s just it. I don¡¯t know, not for sure. After all, what you can do should be impossible. If I had to guess, I would say that your body has a special affinity for manipulating space, some kind of natural instinct like your shapeshifting. A pure affinity I suspect, as it¡¯s the only way I can imagine any creature being able to bear the cost of constantly maintaining a small realm with an connection on a separate layer of space than they exist on.¡±

    ¡­what?

    She clicks her tongue at whatever expression I¡¯m making. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. The least I can do is share any discoveries I make with you. Besides, it would be a travesty to allow your talents to fester.¡±

    A terrible conclusion starts to form in my mind, but no. It¡¯s too horrible to contemplate. ¡°By discoveries, do you mean¡ª"

    ¡°I mean that you are a trove of knowledge relating to my affinity,¡± she clarifies, lips arcing in an amused smile laced with something a touch more benevolent that outright cruelty but still very worrying. ¡°It is a rare thing for me to find a clue in advancing my mastery. To walk away would be spitting on the Spirit¡¯s guidance. Since you cannot provide me insight into your gifts, then I have no choice but to study them myself, hm?¡±

    Oh. Oh, saints no.

    No wonder Kierra looks so rattled.

    ¡°What are you planning?¡± Orum asks.

    ¡°Planning? Please. I don¡¯t bother with tricks.¡±

    ¡°You can be devious,¡± Kierra mutters, no doubt referring to how she was tricked into her prison.

    Amazingly, Morgene doesn¡¯t show so much as a shred of remorse when reminded that she locked her own daughter in a verdant cage for two decades and would have left her there for longer until she met her mother¡¯s expectations. ¡°There is a time for subtly, but outright deception is beneath me. A spider¡¯s web is an effective trap, but it¡¯s meant to capture insects.¡± She waves a hand dismissively. ¡°I want exactly what I said, to learn more about the null affinity by studying Lou¡¯s strange ability. Something I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve already considered. Don¡¯t you think you can learn something from a pure shapeshifter?¡±

    He hums. ¡°Her body is quite remarkable. I could enhance my own potential if I had the chance to examine her in depth.¡± Saints preserve me, it¡¯s my worst nightmare. Two powerful individuals have learned about me and want to take me apart. My stomach knots at the thought of fighting them. I¡¯m confident in my body, I am¡­but saints save me, if there is anyone in Harvest that could figure out the secret to my apparent immortality and defeat it, it¡¯s these two. Really, haven¡¯t I been through enough?

    ¡°But it is not our place. Lou¡¯s secrets are hers to share if she pleases, not ours to take. She is family, Morg. I know you value that. You have brought Kii enough discord for a lifetime. Leave her be.¡±

    Ah.

    I get it.

    Morgene is Kierra¡¯s savage side, the half the revels in bloodshed and pushing everyone, including herself, to their limits. And this beautiful bastard is her other caring side, the one that likes to nurture her flower and cling to her loved ones. Thank the saints for the Orums of the world. I have to fight the urge to get up and hug him.

    ¡°Trouble is merely opportunity in disguise. Did she not grow from the experience? Did she not gain?¡±

    ¡°Actions are not only judged by their results. I will not allow this.¡± He cracks his knuckles, no. Those were the sound of his bones snapping and reforming, his hands becoming something closer to the paws of a beast. ¡°Try, and you will get that fight you¡¯ve been looking for.¡±

    I don¡¯t know what he expected of her, but I hope it wasn¡¯t to scare her off. Morgene licks her lip in a very recognizable way, but doesn¡¯t take the bait, shaking her head as if to cast away the temptation. ¡°You¡¯re assuming our daughter doesn¡¯t want me around.¡± I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the expression Kierra makes. ¡°I have plenty to offer. I assume the destroyed city means her little clan has a few problems with this kingdom¡¯s monarch. I may have refused the crown, but I have some experience with politics. Seems Lou has a penchant for the Atainna way of negotiation. It just needs¡­refining. As for Kii, I¡¯m sure she could do with a proper sparring partner rather than a force of nature.¡±

    Oh, no. Kierra¡¯s frown has eased, going from horrified to contemplative. Is she actually considering this?

    ¡°There is also something you should consider before being in such a hurry to run back to the provinces. Your biggest concern is that Kierra¡¯s partner won¡¯t be a good match. Why not guide said partner? Then you¡¯ll have nothing to worry about. Aside from that, Lou could benefit from your knowledge as a shifter. Isn¡¯t it about time you take a student?¡±

    Now he¡¯s considering it too!

    Morgene chuckles, sensing victory. ¡°Oh, yes. I think this kingdom will be very good for the Atainnas.¡±

 Miniarc-Meet the Parents-21 (Remmings)

    Remming half expected to be led to a small, dark room not unlike the one in the king''s dungeon, and interrogated for his secrets.

    The other half expected to be escorted to an execution chamber. Or perhaps dragged around to the back of the house and be disposed of like a dog. It wouldn''t be the first time someone was taken care of quietly for knowing too much. Remmings had given such an order plenty of times. It would be the height of irony if the crown''s head interrogator had his life sacrificed on the great altar of dangerous secrets.

    But his expectations were subverted. The whole spiel over the dinner table wasn''t just a performance. The horrible creature led him to what he suspected was Lord Teppin''s, or Lourianne Tome''s for as long as she chose to occupy it, study and sat him behind the desk. The smile of the guise it chose to wear was almost charming as it faced him and delivered its warning.

    "I can crack open your mind like an egg with about the same amount of difficulty. I promise you won''t enjoy the experience, so I suggest you make this easy on us both and don''t fight. You can''t keep me out and though I can''t hurt you, there are a multitude of unpleasant sensations you can experience that will not harm you."

    "Are you really a don?" he asked, doubts creeping in as he watched it obey orders like a simple servant. As the head interrogator, the chief threat he was meant to guard against were those of the mental affinity. He knew little of summoning, and cared for it even less, but he''d studied the succubi of the Grimoire family. They''d been a thorn in the side of the royal family for generations, each succeeding patriarch growing bolder as generations of secrets and deceptions bound the nobles of the capital in inescapable chains.

    There were many reasons why the crown never acted against the family. No matter how terrible they were, the crown could not simply order the royal knights to storm their estate and kill them to the last son. It would set a bad precedent. The king was the ultimate authority in the kingdom, but he couldn''t fight all the nobles if they banded together. Usually, their petty pursuits prevented that from happening but if there was one thing that would encourage them to cooperate, it was the crown abusing its authority.

    Power was a game. What kept it civilized were the rules. Disregard them and people quickly became animals and there was nothing as barbaric as war.

    If the crown wanted to bring down troublemakers, it had to be done properly, through the law. But no law could account for succubi. In their hands, laws became weapons. They were master manipulators, every last one of them.

    Summoners weren''t considered a threat because most elementals refused to submit to their summoners fully, their contracts only allowing for specific services. Those that did suborn their will to their contractors were usually unimpressive. Their ability would wholly depend on their summoners and those that dabbled in the art were rarely impressive, magically or mentally. Otherwise, they could obtain power on their own.

    Succubi were wholly different. They were intelligent creatures with no apparent ego, willing to bind themselves to even the most revolting soul. They happily donned the masks of servants, as they had no problem commanding from the place of a lesser. Truly, from what Remmings observed in his investigations, the succubi were always the ones in control, guiding their contractors with backhanded compliments, outright mockery, or honeyed words.

    Thralls didn''t have impressive coefficients, but they were highly skilled. The only thing that kept them manageable was their lack of numbers, the Grimoire patriarch limiting which family members could contract them to better maintain control over the branch members and unfavored children.

    Gordon Grimoire, the previous patriarch, contracted a virtue but from Remmings'' investigations, it wasn''t that great an achievement. He didn''t know for sure, but he thought their contract came with many stipulations. Gordon was an ambitious and arrogant man. If he could freely order about a creature with a master''s mana core and several lifetimes of experience, the capital would have felt the consequences keenly. A virtue was a horrible threat but somewhat in the sense of dragons, in that while there was nothing Remmings could do about one, he didn''t expect to face one directly. It was a being above humanity, which meant it wouldn¡¯t meddle in their affairs frequently, if at all.

    A don was altogether different. They did not make contracts. If humanity was beneath a virtue, they were nothing but insects to the that being. They were like the tournaments hosted by nobles daring the bravest among their subjects to challenge their champions. If they won, they would receive prestige and enough crowns to live like kings, at least among their peers. Those tournaments always drew hundreds of participants and thousands of eager eyes. Trade flowed and the festivities boosted a nobles'' reputation. Everyone won...but it was all a sham.

    The challengers were never supposed to win the tournaments. How could someone self-trained or trained by a mercenary or ex-soldier that settled in their village compete with someone who had been trained by the best in the kingdom while provided with countless resources from birth? They couldn¡¯t, but the dream kept them coming back.

    That was what the don was, vile temptation. They flattered, they demeaned, they bargained. They showed glimpses of their power, enticing the summoners to contract their lesser kin in hopes of them or their family one day contracting the true powerhouse. However, all recorded history, both those records kept by the Grimoire family and those kept by the Summoning Hall, said that they never accepted a contract. Though the cost in mana, 100 units, wasn''t a great hurdle, it was commonly accepted no human had anything to offer such a creature.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Perhaps a member of the royal family or a high noble might be able to tempt it with the resources of their territory, but it would be a sucker''s bargain. From the behavior of all summoned dons, it was clear that a summoner would have to enslave themselves to the creature to even think of receiving its help.

    A situation where the don was the servant, and such an obedient one, wasn''t just unexpected. It should have been impossible.

    Remmings fought a flinch as the creature laid a hand on his head, still smiling softly. It was unnerving how expressive it was. It could easily fool anyone who didn''t know its nature, but most accounts agreed that succubi were unfeeling, or if they felt, it was in such an alien way that a human mind couldn''t possibly understand it. Those few records that disagreed were written by poor fools who thought their thralls loved them truly and deeply, damn the opinions of their peers.

    They also usually died young or disappeared under mysterious circumstances.

    "I am what you humans have named dons, yes." The feeling of foreign mana entering the body was maddeningly uncomfortable, like worms digging under the skin. Remmings knew it intimately. He made all his interrogators train against mana intrusion, as one of the worst things that could happen was someone breaching the sanctity of one of their minds. He was prepared to suffer, his teeth grit as he reminded himself not to fight. The last thing he needed on top of having his mind ransacked was to force his captor to injure him because he was fighting against impossible circumstances.

    Yet, the creature''s invasion was gentle. The mana that flowed into him caused a faint tickle where it passed, a feather that floated through him rather than the usual biting, stinging, and burrowing through his flesh. It was humbling, observing such masterful control. The thing didn''t just have incredible control over its affinity, but the same control over its mana. A revolutionary experience for someone who only understood mana as fuel and only thought to move it through his body.

    That kind of knowledge was far more terrifying than any coefficient. If only he could tell someone. He didn''t know what he, or anyone else in Harvest, could do about it, but he foresaw tragedy in the kingdom''s future stemming from the crown''s ignorance. The king was going to handle the young noblewoman causing a ruckus in one of his most important cities entirely wrong and it wasn''t his fault. No one understood. No one was ready.

    "What are you doing here?" he asked as the ticklish feeling reached his head and turned into a massage.

    "Why bother asking? You won''t remember the answer."

    "Your orders were to replace my memories of dinner. Nothing else."

    "Very good. They also missed the big one about leaving messages for you. How interesting would it be if you woke up tomorrow with a note in your pocket telling you your memories were false?" It chuckled. "When you''re proficient with magic, your enemies seem to forget that you also have mundane methods available. Oh yes, there are a few ways I could circumvent my orders...but I don''t think I will."

    "Why not? I didn''t expect a creature like you to serve so sincerely."

    "Another mistake you all make. You presume to understand us. Though my decision has nothing to do with my supposed loyalty. It''s simply an act of self-preservation. Your daughter is a bit more suspicious of me than my summoner and has none of Lou''s oh so useful trepidation when it comes to my kind. I strongly suspect that she will ask for a recounting of what happened in this room, if only to learn from my technique. It would be very uncomfortable if any nascent schemes were revealed, hm?"

    Remmings couldn''t help a swell of pride hearing that the creature was treading carefully around Talia, but it deflated a moment later. "Learn?"

    "Was I not clear? She is my student. Well, not exclusively. She is happy to learn from all of us." Its smile stretched wider. "There are plenty of better options than you, an unimaginative, dying, poor excuse of a master anything. You''re worthless in her eyes. Why are you making such an expression? You raised her and should be the last person surprised by her cold heart."

    "What we have goes beyond master and student,¡± he snapped. ¡°We''re family. Your words only show how little you know her."

    Talia was certainly different but no one who truly knew her would call her cold. Rather, she was incredibly passionate, just for the few things that caught her attention.

    "There it is again. That terrible habit of assuming that a being that looks like you, talks like you, and acts like you, feels the same way you do. That woman''s heart may as well be made of ice. Any warmth she has is reserved for things that are useful for her own ends or at least worthy of her respect. You are neither."

    The creature shook its head. "Unfortunately, she has some ridiculous notions about gratitude and repaying debts."

    "There is nothing ridiculous about being honorable."

    "Of course there is. Everything aside from power is a weakness to be exploited."

    "Power is useless without a strong mind to wield it."

    "Knowledge is power. Morality is a restraint. Now, quiet down. You''re not my student and this will be easier without you focusing on me."

    "What are you doing?"

    "Well, I can''t do anything to you but there''s nothing stopping me from learning a few things. Now, let''s see what kind of secrets the head interrogator keeps."

    He had been doing his best not to fight the creature but at its words, his discipline failed him. His eyes glowed as he called on his mana, circulating it, his power naturally pushing against the foreign energy inside him. Then they rolled back into his head as he was bombarded with sensation.

    His skin was practically burned with an infernal itch, his eyes water, his nose was congested, his stomach tightened with a dread so powerful he thought he might throw up, and the room swam despite him sitting down. More and more sensations piled onto his senses, leaving him thoroughly disorientated. He couldn''t cast a spell even if his life depended on it.

    He didn''t even notice the massage of the creature''s magic turning into a vice-like tightness around his skull as it forced its way into his mind.

    "Interesting."

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 01

    In the brood, worth was determined at birth.

    If you were born without the ability to reproduce, then your fate was to labor for the brood. How you served was dependent on your talents but there was no choice in the matter. No notion of self-determination, not even when to eat or rest.

    The daughters of Great Mother had a little more freedom, but not much. After all, not every estrazi female was born with the same potential. Only the best would be considered for the honor of one day leading the brood. Those with powerful affinities or great talent in wielding them.

    The mediocre received none of the luxuries given to their better sisters, suffering banal existences despite having a heart that ached for more and a mind capable of imagining it. The lackluster were treated no better than the males.

    Other intelligent races would see thier ways as cruel, utilitarian to the extreme, but it was how they had always been. And they would never change, for they had been raised and guided by the greatest beings in the world. Who would dare question the wisdom of the majesties, creatures born to reign above all? They had been created with purpose, to enact the will of the greatest beings. That purpose demanded the best and the best only rose to prominence when properly supported by the less talented.

    One estrazi did not a brood make. It was practically heretical for an estrazi to go against their fate, no matter how terrible.

    Yet, that was exactly what Little Water had done by running from the north in search of her human. Worse, she''d taken resources from the brood. If she didn''t return with results to justify her actions, she would face a swift death, if not worse.

    Little Water was confident in her vision. The estrazi spent generations locked in the icy north, building their forces and waiting for a threat to justify their presence. All of it, meaningless. The words of her father suggested that all their preparations would have failed against the first true threat to the estrazi and their mission. A human threat. One that they might have foreseen if they had any connections to their neighbors.

    There was a time when the estrazi had warrens all over the world and were recognized as the dragons'' heralds by every civilization, given the respect owed to them as the chosen of the chosen. The Great War had devastated their numbers. Her people were driven away, blamed for the damage done by the warring sovereigns of the sky or mistaken for threats like the other rampaging draconids that did untold damage across the globe. Those that were left were gathered in one large brood and tasked with guarding the prison of the Defiler, the cause of the world''s upheaval.

    The sovereigns who did so likely didn''t suspect that a second Defiler would appear in the world. Why would they? The Outsider''s influence was usually a subtle thing. It had tempted Ezossoa, but their records claimed that she was already disgruntled with the ways of her kin. In other words, she was already a rebel. The war would have happened no matter what. The Outsider''s blessing simply meant that the consequences were much worse and that the Defiler would continue to remain a threat.

    Normally, a single human would never be a threat. Little Water struggled to understand how they ever could be one, even if the Outsider''s blessing made them immortal. It certainly wouldn''t take the combined power of seven sovereigns to imprison them. Yet, her father said they would lose and his predictions were never wrong. Sometimes annoyingly vague, but never inaccurate.

    If they couldn''t win with might, then they would have to negotiate with the second agent of chaos. Little Water was no stranger to bargaining for what she needed. In the brood, negotiation was based off an exchange of benefits. Between equals or lessers, nothing was done for free, even if it was for the greater good.

    She had to find something the agent, Lou, wanted to exchange for her human. Hardly a simple task. The human shelter was too small to host her servants so Little Water found dwelling in the colorful part of the city. The agent trusted them to do so, as she knew the estrazi had nowhere else to go and Little Water wouldn''t leave without her human. She even recommended where to stay.

    Amusingly, the humans that caught glimpses of their scales and tails assumed they were wearing costumes and treated them without bias. It was also a good sign that they were directed to a place that would be sheltered from the agent''s wrath. One of the greatest obstacles to Little Water''s plans was the enmity between the estrazi and humanity, forged from generations of conflict. It was relieving that said hatred hadn''t seeped into the whole of the kingdom, especially the agent. Finding herself in a place of neutrality after expecting to climb her way out of a horrible reputation, Little Water thought the sovereigns were watching over her, blessing her mission.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    She tried to keep that certainty alive as she scoured the shattered city in search of riches. She felt that estrazi and humans were more alike than different. It stood to reason that they would want the same things: shelter, riches, mates, and the power to protect them. Of those, the agent had plenty or plenty of opportunity to find them herself. That left Little Water with one avenue, curios.

    Not even the females of the brood could resist the allure of the unknown. Great Mother encouraged their curiosity, as from exploration came discovery and discovery promoted growth. If Lou had everything she could need or want, then Little Water would have to find something she didn''t know she needed or wanted.

    If it were the north, she wouldn''t rate her chances of success highly. After all, the land of ice was forever unchanging, as the sovereigns intended. No variable could be allowed, as not even the sovereigns of the world could tell what was the design of the Outsider and what was harmless happenstance.

    However, here in the south, everything was new. The humans knew more of their kingdom than she did, but her human had told her that their land, and the world, was still very much a mystery to them. There were even places they refused to spread as the terrain proved too troublesome. Simply giving up in the face of adversity. Little Water couldn''t imagine it. But that boded well. Perhaps nothing in the kingdom could impress her elder sisters but for the weak-willed humans, there was hope.

    Especially if she used some of the brood''s secrets. The secret themselves she would die before surrendering, she was no traitor despite how her actions could be taken, but so long as they were a tool under her control, she wouldn''t hesitate to use them.

    Every night, under the cover of darkness, Little Water scoured the city in search of opportunity. Mostly, she found trouble. Sometimes, they had to evacuate a part of the warren if the Defiler''s flaring temperature melted the ice and flooded a section. Estrazi would pour out of the tunnels and mill around aimlessly until the section was repaired. The humans had done the same thing, but no one had come forward to restore their homes. They hung around the ruins, frozen in indecision, unsure how to move forward.

    The brood had a saying; idle hands make for misery. Those without purpose were doomed to fall, whether it be by their own hands or circumstances. It was no surprise that the people of the city found their way into trouble. That trouble ended abruptly when it found Little Water.

    She was rather glad for the recent destruction. The ruined buildings provided ample cover and the lack of enforcers meant she didn''t need to be careful how she handled annoyances. Countless poor souls had been crushed by the agent''s rampage, but more were hidden amongst the debris every day. She didn''t envy the one who would be called on to restore order but thanked the sovereigns for the convenience.

    It was a slow night, her group of five had only been ambushed once, when she finally spotted something interesting. A creature unlike anything she''d ever seen. It was vaguely recognizable as some kind of canid, with its tall ears, long muzzle, and longer tail, but that was where all familiarity ended.

    The creature was flesh. Nothing but flesh. She could see its pink muscles contracting and expanding with each movement, slick with constantly dripping blood. Where its eyes should have been, the flesh was sewn shut with something black. It carefully moved through the rubble on paws with distinct digits, something close to fingers but crooked, its wide nostrils flaring with each step.

    It was disgusting...but it was unique. Something new. Possibly something valuable. So Little Water shadowed the creature. The first time, she lost it, the thing craning its head at an impossible angle and staring at her when she got too close. Thankfully, it left a helpful trail of viscera that was easy to track. She examined what she took as blood more closely and found it was anything but. Not only was it a deep purple instead of the usual scarlet, it didn''t smell of blood. Strangely, it smelled of nothing at all.

    Despite its strange and eye-catching nature, its actions spoke of a stealthy creature. It didn''t make a sound as it moved, sticking to the shadows and going still whenever it approached an area filled with people. Suspiciously, its measures worked. No one othered than the estrazi seemed capable of noticing its presence, or the obvious trail it left behind.

    Little Water watched it with growing confusion as it circled the city, changing directions seemingly on a whim. She''d think it was movingly blindly, not an unreasonable assumption given its lack of eyes, but there was too much purpose behind it. Whenever it paused, it was after coming to a complete stop and flaring its nostrils wide. Little Water couldn''t perceive what, but it was tracking something.

    Her idle curiosity became something more intense after the creature eventually found its way to the Teppin estate. It stopped at the edge of the property, nostrils flaring and strange purple goop dripping off it. Then it, very deliberately, turned away, moving in a straight line at a fairly quick place. Far too interesting.

    Little Water let it travel a bit to be sure it was retreating before she captured it in a ball of water. Her minions left and returned with a sturdy barrel that she transferred the creature to. She observed it for a while, but it didn''t try to escape. It did nothing at all. With a few flicks of her tail, she sent her servants away with the creature, leaving it to their discretion. If she didn''t know where it was, then she couldn''t be coerced into giving away its location.

    It was time to negotiate.

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 02

    Little Water didn¡¯t understand human homes.

    The point of a warren was to keep the brood safe and there was no place safer than under the earth. A warren placed underground offered natural protection. It was easier to regulate temperatures and there was less competition with other species, something very important for the estrazi that often operated within other cultures. Space was limited, but there was always the option to put less vital members of the brood on the surface.

    Despite the superiority of subterranean shelter, all the human residences were above ground. Worse, they offered no protection, built of flimsy wood or soft stone that would crumble with one half-decent spell. It seemed to her that they cared more for appearances, the surface was certainly more appealing than tunnels of uneven stone, than safety. Something that wouldn¡¯t bother her in the slightest if her human wasn¡¯t being held in one of those flimsy shelters.

    Worse, she didn¡¯t know which one. She thought he might be close to the agent, but Lou hadn¡¯t allowed her free reign over the estate to confirm that suspicion. She wasn¡¯t sure she wanted Khan to be close to the agent of chaos. While he certainly wouldn¡¯t be threatened by any of the other humans, she feared for him if he was caught in the center of the next rampage.

    She couldn¡¯t deny a bit of trepidation as she walked up the dirt road that led to the estate. So far, the human noblewoman had proved reasonable. She seemed to be amused by Little Water, taking peculiar interest in her scales and tail. However, there was no telling how long that favor would last. No matter how harmless she tried to present as, it was impossible to forget that Lou was touched by the Outsider.

    She was kin to the Defiler, the sovereign that almost ended the world. She wouldn¡¯t have been chosen if there wasn¡¯t a trace of that madness. She¡¯d already shone it by toppling a city. If that rage was turned on her, Little Water could only hope to die quickly.

    ¡°Welcome back, Little Water.¡±

    Somehow, the human named Earl was waiting outside the front door of the estate when she arrived. There were many strange things surrounding the agent and he hardly ranked high on the list. However, the young was very unusual. Most creatures were vulnerable when they were young. That was why a brood and proper shelter was important. As an adolescent, the boy should have been weaker than the adults around him.

    Yet, he was uncommonly advanced. His awareness and speed couldn¡¯t be compared to many of the hunters that had ambushed her group. Aside from that, he also had considerable knowledge. Her guards could handle him but not without injury, maybe even casualties if he caught them unaware. She couldn¡¯t imagine what he would be in a few decades. Or what the agent was planning by cultivating such a talent.

    The Defiler was a horrendous threat, but her actions had been straightforward. Much better than an indirect threat approaching from a hundred different directions. An agent that created more agents to spread chaos in different corners of the world would be a headache.

    But such concerns were far above Little Water.

    ¡°I wish to meet Lou.¡±

    ¡°Please, come in. Your people can wait outside.¡±

    Little Water frowned. It was the first time her servants hadn¡¯t been allowed entry and she tried not to apply nefarious intentions to the action as she followed the steward into the house. He led her to a familiar sitting area and bade her to sit.

    As she perched on the end of one of the couches, another human entered the room. The tiny one with the bright hair and the little animals that followed in her wake. Another oddity. Much less of a threat compared to the strange boy, but she was another one that time would reveal her true terror, or so Little Water suspected.Stolen novel; please report.

    The young one took up a position leaning against a wall, settling a heavy gaze on Little Water.

    ¡°Please wait. I will check if my lady is available to meet you.¡±

    The boy left the room, his steps quick and purposeful. Little Water was reassured that it wasn¡¯t a game; some of her sisters liked to make visitors wait in the uncomfortable tunnels leading to their rooms and she hated it. She ignored the piercing gaze watching her and went over her plan.

    The strange creature she¡¯d found was a blessing of the sovereigns. She doubted she¡¯d find anything else that would interest Lou, so she had one chance to get closer to her goal. If she failed, well, it was good that she didn¡¯t have to fear for her safety, but there was a danger of simply being dismissed. It had been several days since she¡¯d been dismissed from the estate and the noblewoman hadn¡¯t even bothered to get in contact with her. Little Water and her plans simply didn¡¯t rank very high in Lou¡¯s priorities. Perhaps she didn¡¯t care at all.

    It wasn¡¯t a good thing to be the focus of the creature that was very likely meant to upend the world but, unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t afford to be dismissed.

    The boy returned relatively quickly and, better, he returned with a silver cart laden with food and a glass pitcher. ¡°My lady has agreed to see you, but she needs a few minutes to wrap up a matter. In the meantime, please enjoy her hospitality.¡±

    Food and fresh water were placed before her and Little Water didn¡¯t hesitate to indulge, thinking she had touched on the reason her servants had been asked to wait outside. The estrazi understood hospitality. When you welcomed others into your cave, it was looked on poorly if you weren¡¯t welcoming. If the others had been allowed inside, the boy would have been compelled to feed and water them. While she doubted Lou was suffering overly much, there was a dearth of available food in the city. Even those with more than enough would be careful with their stores for the foreseeable future.

    It was much longer before Lou entered the room. The agent looked tired, features furrowed with stress as she stomped into the room. Little Water shivered as she took in the violet gaze. She didn¡¯t imagine that she would ever be comfortable with what her people considered an omen of the disaster. The woman¡¯s obvious irritation didn¡¯t help her nerves.

    Her anxiousness worsened when a second person followed Lou into the room. While a purple gaze was the mark of the Outsider, estrazi didn¡¯t much like the color anywhere. It wasn¡¯t to the point that they hated it, but it made many of them uncomfortable.

    A woman with a purple pallor was bound to make her scales tingle. The opposite of Lou, she strode into the room with a confident smile, she strides quick and sure. As the agent slumped into a seat, the woman with familiar silver hair and long ears walked right up to Little Water. Her snout was grabbed by a strong hand before the estrazi could register the movement, her head turned to and fro. Yet any offense was quashed before it could rise under the weight of the green gaze observing her.

    ¡°Oh. I was a little excited when you told me a talking draconid was in your living room but it¡¯s just a little dung beetle.¡± The woman sighed as she took a seat at the other end of the couch.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t provoke my guests,¡± the agent sighed, the reprimand sounding more tired than accusatory.

    The purple woman waved it aside anyway. ¡°No offense meant. I¡¯m simply accustomed to referring to her kind that way.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m going to regret this. Why a dung beetle? Isn¡¯t that a little too insulting? From what little I know of them, the estrazi are fairly impressive.¡±

    The purple woman scoffed. ¡°Exactly. They are fairly impressive. Raised and given purpose by dragons themselves and all they amount to is fairly impressive. Very self-important lizards despite having no more talent than any other species. They aren¡¯t even born strong like most draconids.¡±

    She grinned. ¡°Our elders joked that if wyverns are the result of diluted dragon blood, then they must have been made from the dragon¡¯s shit. They also have a tendency to go around the world involving themselves in others¡¯ messes without invitation. Hence, dung beetles, rolling up the shit of the world.¡±

    She laughed loudly while the agent made a face. ¡°Saints, it really does runs in the blood. Please just ignore her. She¡¯ll only enjoy it more if you get angry.¡±

    Little Water didn¡¯t need to be told. Instincts honed by dueling her sisters screamed at her that the insulting woman was a threat. The biggest threat in the room. While the agent was likely the greater force, Little Water had no reason to worry that Lou would kill her while exchanging a few words. However, there was a feeling about the other woman, an almost palpable bloodlust, that said she might end Little Water for fun.

    ¡°Yes, ignore me. I¡¯m just an observer to this meeting.¡±

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 03

    Ignore her.

    That was a tall order.

    One did not tend to ignore the predator in the room.

    But Little Water mustered her courage and did everything she could to put the purple woman out of her mind. It wasn¡¯t just fear that made it difficult. A terrible curiosity also gnawed at her, a dozen questions pushing at her tightly closed lips.

    Who was the woman? Was her strange appearance because of the Outsider¡¯s influence? Had he influenced her directly or through Lou? Did they plan to make more agents? Was there a plan?

    All good questions with potentially catastrophic answers.

    ¡°You needed something from me, Scales?¡±

    Little Water didn¡¯t understand the reason behind calling her by one of her features. The estrazi didn¡¯t understand nicknames. Their names were akin to human titles, recognition of their ability and authority. Names with weight and importance. The brood didn¡¯t have use for sentiment. Or humor. Yet, she didn¡¯t deny Lou her amusement. ¡°I want to see my human.¡±

    The noblewoman sighed. Better than many other reactions but not ideal. ¡°Ah, yes. My future brother-in-law. You¡¯ve got to believe me when I tell you he¡¯s safe. We just can¡¯t afford to deal with his problems. Maybe after we cut ties with the city. We¡¯ve got plenty of time.¡±

    ¡°What if I had something to trade?¡±

    Lou¡¯s relaxed expression tightened as she leaned forward. ¡°Well, first, I¡¯d be sad you¡¯re keeping secrets from me.¡± Little Water fought her aversion to search the violet gaze for anger but didn¡¯t see any signs of temper. ¡°Then I¡¯d ask what you found.¡±

    ¡°Will you give me my human?¡±

    ¡°Why are you so eager to wake him up? He¡¯s got nothing to offer until we unscramble his brains. Even if I were inclined to let you take him away, what would the two of you do? Neither of you are welcome in the north.¡±

    ¡°We would prepare.¡± There was much to be done if the estrazi and the humans were to forge an alliance. Both sides needed to prove themselves to one another. Her human had suggested that simply forming a union with him, a member of the revered James family, would be enough to, if not convince the people of Victory, give her a chance to sway their minds. However, she had to impress his family.

    At first, he¡¯d fervently denied any chance that his father would come around to their partnership but, as his affection and determination grew, he threw away his doubts and thought hard about it. His mother was the one Khan worried about the least. He had a strong suspicion that she would think it was funny having never bought into the superiority of the James¡¯ blood or the Victorians¡¯ generational war. He was also her last son. She didn¡¯t coddle him, but she did want him to be happy. It would destroy her if he died.

    He suspected that his father was also tired of losing children. So long as they could work out a compromise that allowed Victory to continue hunting in the north, something that was necessary for both their economy and their culture, he believed the duke could be swayed toward peace.

    For the estrazi, the condition to ensure an alliance was far simpler. They were servants of the sovereigns. If the humans wanted an alliance, they only needed to surrender themselves to their will. However, a significant obstacle stood in the way. People couldn¡¯t have two idols. So long as they worshiped the James, they would never be true servants of the dragons.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The estrazi were worse fanatics than the Victorians. They would accept nothing other than complete devotion.

    Before, Little Water thought that they would have their whole lifetimes to conquer their goal and that they would need every year they could get. Now, a nebulous timeline had been imposed on their ambition; they had until Lou made contact with the Defiler. And she would. Her father had predicted as much, saying that their meeting could only be delayed, giving the estrazi more time to prepare. That meeting could take place as soon as the coming winter.

    The last thing they needed was to waste time with imposed sleeping. Especially when Lou¡¯s quest was pointless. They wouldn¡¯t be able to reverse the alterations done to Khan¡¯s mind. Little Water understood that the creatures Lou kept around were capable, but her father had no doubt seen them in his visions and he still trusted in the abilities of one of Little Water¡¯s oldest sisters, Great Mind. She was one of the first daughters hatched after they were made the Defiler¡¯s wardens and had been building her power for centuries. Her technique was flawless. Trying to break it would only endanger her human.

    Lou¡¯s exasperation said she didn¡¯t care about Little Water¡¯s grand ambitions or how she was currently impeding them. She settled back into her chair, lacing her fingers over her stomach. ¡°He may be ¡®your human¡¯, whatever that means, but he¡¯s Alana¡¯s brother. That makes him family. I can¡¯t go around selling him off for benefits, even if he didn¡¯t object to it. It¡¯s the principle of the thing.¡±

    Little Water opened her mouth to try convincing her but stopped when she saw the raised finger. ¡°There is only one person that can change my mind and that¡¯s Alana. Lucky for you, she is a very rational woman. She isn¡¯t afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.¡±

    Lou smiled, as she often did when thinking of her mates, but quickly suppressed the expression. ¡°She can also be ruthless. So, you¡¯ve got a chance. If your offer is very, very good, she might risk her brother¡¯s wellbeing to obtain it. But! If it isn¡¯t, you¡¯ll only piss her off and make me look bad for even making her think about it. She¡¯s all heart under that northern righteousness. You upset her, you upset me, and I have very few reasons to entertain you as it is. Ask yourself, is whatever you have good enough to risk it?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Lou had made it clear that she didn¡¯t want to deal with Khan. Trying to force the powerful to do something they didn¡¯t want to do was always a risk. She wouldn¡¯t have come at all if she didn¡¯t have confidence.

    ¡°Er. You, ah¡­you sounded very sure of yourself.¡±

    ¡°It is something you will be very interested in.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re hiding a beautiful woman somewhere? Haha¡­ha.¡± Lou¡¯s laughter died as she took in Morgene¡¯s cold smile. She cleared her throat. ¡°Well? What¡¯s so impressive?¡±

    ¡°Information. I believe I have discovered another threat against you.¡±

    Lou scoffed. ¡°Of course you found a threat to me. The whole city wants me dead. Saints, I wouldn''t be surprised if most of the kingdom does. If that¡¯s all¡ª"

    ¡°This threat was not human.¡±

    That stopped Lou¡¯s dismissal, her brows furrowing. ¡°If you mean manabeasts¡ª"

    ¡°This thing was not a beast. It was an unnatural thing. Whether it was directed by human hands, I don¡¯t know, but it is unlike anything I have ever seen. And I have born witness to titans.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly the vote of confidence you think it is but¡­¡± Lou let out an explosive sigh. ¡°Ah, ah. You really know what buttons to push, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Little Water kept her opinion to herself, not seeing the value in pointing out the obvious. It was only a matter of course that she knew what Lou valued. Knowing what your target wanted was the basis of a proper negotiation and anyone who observed Lou for a few moments could discover what she valued most.

    There was no way she would tolerate a threat to her family. And while Little Water wasn¡¯t sure the strange creature was a threat, the possibility was there and she was sure even the chance of unknown danger lurking about would be too much for the noblewoman to bear.

    ¡°You¡¯re really pushing it, Scales. So much so that I¡¯m tempted to pull the information from your head.¡±

    ¡°You despise the abuse of the mental affinity.¡±

    ¡°I despise my family being in danger more.¡±

    ¡°I told my servants to hide the creature from me.¡±

    ¡°You could be lying.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±

    ¡°¡­no, don¡¯t think you are.¡± Little Water¡¯s curiosity must have shown. ¡°Lying would be too stupid.¡±

    ¡°You could always threaten the servants with the life of their princess and force them to lead you to this supposed danger.¡±

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 04

    Little Water fought a flinch as the predator she worked so hard to ignore made herself known.

    Lou pointed a stern finger toward the purple woman. ¡°You aren¡¯t supposed to be saying anything.¡±

    ¡°Well, I could hardly let this brat play you. It¡¯d be too embarrassing.¡±

    ¡°She isn¡¯t playing anyone. It¡¯s obvious I can brute force this but, in case you haven¡¯t noticed, I don¡¯t particularly like shitting all over everything, even if it is effective.¡±

    The purple woman¡¯s features scrunched up. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it if you used better imagery. Ugh.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me if I¡¯m not in a poetic mood. It has been a long couple of days.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s no excuse to lose your decorum.¡±

    ¡°Whose fault do you think it is that I¡¯m so stressed?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re being too stubborn for your own good.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re calling me stubborn? Aren¡¯t you afraid the saints will strike you down? That much irony has got to be a sin.¡±

    The purple woman smiled. ¡°The last thing I¡¯m afraid of is human ghosts. If you think they, or anything else, is going to drive me away, then you¡¯re sorely mistaken. Give up your pointless struggle. This is best for everyone.¡±

    ¡°Says who? Orum is alright but you¡¯ve been nothing but a nuisance. Always popping in, demanding to study me. You¡¯re worse than the succubi. And as for ¡®tutoring¡¯ me, you¡¯re worse than I am.¡± Lou waved energetically toward Little Water. ¡°I just leveled a city, killing and displacing thousands of innocents, and I thought to avoid threatening the poor lizard! Eh. Dammit.¡± Lou scratched at the back of her head. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°It is fine.¡± It would be a lie to say Little Water was ambivalent about the comparison, but she couldn¡¯t afford to be insulted. What good would it do? She couldn¡¯t do anything about the uncomfortable feeling in her chest. It also wasn¡¯t a wholly untrue statement. They were raised from common reptiles.

    ¡°Anyway!¡± The noblewoman¡¯s glare returned to the purple woman. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be helping me be better at this? That is how you sold this to Kierra.¡±

    ¡°Oh? So I am your teacher?¡±

    ¡°You were just supposed to be a quiet observer but since you¡¯ve already intervened, you might as well make yourself useful.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯ve changed since your union with my daughter but not much. Still insolent.¡± The purple woman sighed. ¡°Since I¡¯m not officially your teacher and we¡¯re family, I¡¯ll excuse your terrible attitude. I suppose you¡¯re entitled, as I have barged into your home. As you say, I¡¯ll make myself useful. First rule of diplomacy, the Atainna way; ruthlessly stomp out your enemies.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Little Water wondered how long she would be a witness to their theatre, as the two more powerful creatures had easily excluded her from their conversation. She felt as if they were losing sight of why they were here, namely her human, but didn¡¯t want to risk their ire interrupting. Ignored was better than despised.

    ¡°What does that have to do with diplomacy?¡±

    ¡°It defines when it¡¯s to be used. As in, it¡¯s never to be used on enemies. Those who make themselves into threats need to be crushed. Like your lizard.¡±

    Little Water felt the urge to interject intensify as the purple woman elaborated. ¡°She stumbles on a threat to your clan. Instead of bringing it straight to you and explaining, she uses it to extort benefits. At best, blackmail. At worse, she could be colluding with this threat. How do we know she isn¡¯t compromised? Don¡¯t think just because you have those magnificent creatures at your call, no one else holds influence over the mind. You certainly didn¡¯t check her mind for any interference. Who knows what mind is presenting this deal? And who cares? This lizard isn¡¯t an ally so get rid of her and investigate these claims yourself.¡±

    Little Water¡¯s concern peaked. ¡°I¡¯m not an enemy or colluding with anyone else. I simply wanted to negotiate a reward for my service¡ª"

    ¡°A reward happens after the service and is given at the discretion of the other party. An agreed to price before a service is called payment,¡± the purple woman sniped. ¡°Maybe you aren¡¯t an enemy. At best, you might count yourself as a mercenary and those are notoriously fickle. If the safety of my clan was at stake, I wouldn¡¯t be wasting time negotiating with one, trying to figure out which words are true, false, and calculated.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Lou rubbed her head before turning to Little Water. ¡°I¡¯m not giving you Khan.¡±

    ¡°A conversation,¡± the estrazi said quickly. Part of negotiating meant sometimes one had to settle for less than their desired outcome. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a chance to speak with Khan after his mind was altered. I would like to examine the extent of his alterations myself.¡± Her biggest concern was that Great Mind had changed his personality, either making him uninterested in their shared ambition or enhancing his enthusiasm. Her father had promised that he wouldn¡¯t be harmed but she wouldn¡¯t put it past him to use her human as a piece for his plans.

    ¡°Hm. He¡¯d go back to sleep after.¡±

    If he was still her human, Little Water would do everything she could to convince Lou differently. ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°¡­alright. Bring me this threat and if it¡¯s significant, then at the next most convenient time, I¡¯ll let you talk to Khan for, eh, a day. But if it¡¯s nothing, you get nothing.¡±

    Little Water bowed her head and wrapped her tail around her waist, signs of submission. ¡°Thank you, Lou.¡±

    The noblewoman scoffed. ¡°You don¡¯t need to thank me. I just don¡¯t see the point in torturing someone who came to me in good faith. What¡¯s wrong with wanting a little benefit? I¡¯d much rather trust someone who wants something from me than someone who is sucking up to me out of fear.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re underestimating the power of true fear,¡± the purple woman said but Lou ignored her.

    ¡°Besides, if you don¡¯t have something good, you get nothing.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t be disappointed.¡± Little Water stood. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, then I will retrieve it now.¡±

    ¡°How long will that take?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. First, I will have to track down the servants if they have not returned from hiding it. Then we need to retrieve it and return, preferably without drawing attention. Depending on where they hid it, it could take hours.¡±

    ¡°Ugh. No rush. In fact, unless your thing is visibly rotting, I don¡¯t want to see you until tomorrow afternoon. Thanks to a certain someone¡ª" The violet gaze glared at the purple woman, who seemed unfazed. ¡°¡ªI haven¡¯t been getting the best sleep. It¡¯ll also be more convenient in a few ways.¡± Lou pushed up from her chair. ¡°Alright?¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 05

    In a spare room, several women had disgusted looks on their faces as a strange creature was placed on the table before them by two estrazi servants. As Lou demanded, Little Water returned the following evening, just as the sun was starting to set. It hadn¡¯t taken too long to retrieve the corpse but given the importance of what she was carrying, Little Water decided to wait to limit the chance of trouble.

    On their arrival, Lou directed her to a spare room, claiming she didn¡¯t want a corpse stinking up any areas of the estate they used regularly. The table was already arranged when they arrived and, soon enough, a small audience was gathered around it. Little Water gave the signal and their prize was displayed.

    Thankfully, the body hadn¡¯t deteriorated while stored. Little Water took precautions but sometimes, manabeast reacted in unexpected ways. The flesh had lost some of its luster, no longer looking quite so wet. The strange purple fluid it leaked had dried on it, creating a crust that flaked onto the table when it was set down. For a moment, Little Water wondered if she was making a mistake. There was far too much of the Outsider¡¯s sign in the room. There may not be any meaning to it, but her mind couldn¡¯t help whispering that she was asking for trouble.

    But it was too late for superstitions. While Lou was having a hard time looking at the corpse, the rest of the audience had recovered and stepped forward. The two with the most interest were the purple woman and a green man. They practically leaned over it, much closer than even Little Water would dare to get. Being dead didn¡¯t automatically make it harmless.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± the purple woman asked.

    ¡°Fleshcraft, undoubtedly. The presence of eyelids suggest it had sight, but the eyes were removed. That nose belongs to a burrower or underwater creature, certainly not a canid. Many small alterations to the muscle.¡± A hand coated in the green glow of physical mana touched the creature¡¯s head. ¡°No signs of a reproductive system. A construct.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look very dangerous,¡± Alana said, stepping around his broad shoulders to get a look. Hanging over her shoulders was a damp towel and, despite her bravado, she gripped the ends tightly, undermining her nonchalant attitude.

    ¡°Constructs are usually made for one purpose,¡± the green man continued to explain. ¡°Specialized for it. This one¡­I would say tracking. It has little agility, but good endurance. Two stomachs, an abnormally large heart. Reduced brain. Hm.¡±

    ¡°What about the blood? Is it poisonous or something?¡±

    ¡°Not just blood. Something mixed in with it, produced by a strange organ. There is also another strange organ. Unlike anything I¡¯ve seen.¡±

    ¡°Nothing you¡¯ve seen?¡± the purple woman snapped. ¡°Original designs?¡±

    ¡°Mm. It will take several tests to determine function.¡±

    She frowned, straightening and looking over her shoulder at Lou. ¡°You all have a problem.¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡¯m about to throw up my lunch.¡± Kierra, one of the agent¡¯s mates, stepped away from the table to rub Lou¡¯s back, fingers glowing with the same green mana as the man. Relations? That could mean that the purple woman was her mother. Little Water relaxed at the realization. That meant it was unlikely that she was an agent. It was relieving to know that she wasn¡¯t in the middle of an Outsider conspiracy.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Someone making something Orum doesn¡¯t recognize isn¡¯t simply skilled. They are brilliant and experienced. Whatever that thing is¡ª" A graceful hand waved at the corpse. ¡°It¡¯s creative.¡±

    Lou¡¯s eyes slipped shut as she enjoyed her mate¡¯s attention. ¡°Creative is bad because¡­¡±

    ¡°Someone with power is an annoyance. Someone with power and experience is a threat. Someone with power, experience, and ingenuity? They are an unknown threat, which is several times worse.¡±

    ¡°Not completely unknown.¡± Talia stepped around the purple woman, her face expressionless as she looked at the corpse. ¡°Criminals give themselves away with their means. The why behind their methods. If this is a tracker, then it means that whoever sent it wanted to find someone on this estate but chose not to use more mundane methods. Excepting the reason they are simply insane, perhaps they don¡¯t have access to a trustworthy sense of information. Or a less involved way of obtaining it.¡±

    Alana perked up. ¡°Many reasons why someone wouldn¡¯t be allowed into a city. They could be wanted criminals. Could be their camp is so deep in the wilds that it would be too much of a hassle to travel themselves. Could also be broke.¡±

    The purple woman scoffed. ¡°Someone who can do this isn¡¯t without means.¡±

    ¡°Unless this is all they can do. It¡¯s impressive, sure, but I don¡¯t imagine there¡¯s much demand for living horror shows in the kingdom. I admit it¡¯s unlikely, but we shouldn¡¯t immediately jump to the conclusion that there¡¯s an inhuman threat lurking about.¡±

    ¡°But there is.¡± Lou opened her eyes. ¡°A known inhuman fleshcrafter right here in the kingdom. One with ideas of organs beyond this world.¡±

    Alana¡¯s eyes furrowed. ¡°You don¡¯t mean Aggro?¡±

    ¡°Unless there¡¯s another flesh abomination lurking within our borders, yeah, I do.¡±

    ¡°No way.¡±

    ¡°It is unlikely,¡± Talia said, backing Alana¡¯s clear disbelief. ¡°Aggro has been dormant for two decades. Its minions haven¡¯t extended a single limb beyond the territory it negotiated for. Besides that, it has plenty of connections. To the crown, to the merchants that trade with it, and probably more. It certainly doesn¡¯t lack funds. It could buy our location. Or learn it through gossip.¡±

    ¡°Unless it didn¡¯t know it was looking for us,¡± Kierra mused. ¡°Little Water observed it following a scent. This Aggro might not have known who the scent belonged to.¡±

    ¡°What she said,¡± Lou said, grimace returning. ¡°I know none of us have been to Fortitude lately. That means Aggro has broken its treaty with the kingdom and is operating outside of Fortitude. Which, come on, surprises no one, right? Better question, which one of us managed to get caught up in the thing¡¯s plans?¡±

    ¡°Is this a satisfactory offering?¡± Little Water asked before they could be further distracted by their musings. While their conversation had worrying implications, it was another thing beyond the estrazi¡¯s purview. If there was a problem, she imagined the people in the room were more than equipped to handle it without her sticking her snout into it.

    Lou turned to her. ¡°Depends. It¡¯s not exactly dangerous or surprising that a powerful faction is keeping an eye on us. If we can¡¯t learn more, this thing is useless.¡±

    Little Water frowned but another voice spoke for her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about your deal, but this creature is very valuable,¡± Orum said, his hand still on the corpse. ¡°It is a good thing to study. I will also be able to divine more of its purpose with time. If there is any threat in it, I¡¯ll find it.¡±

    ¡°Hah. Well, someone seems pleased. Supposed that means you¡¯ve earned your reward, heh.¡± Little Water¡¯s tail flicked with excitement, but she restrained it quickly. Lou smiled anyway. ¡°Alright, you get your conversation.¡±

    Little Water bowed. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Don¡¯t thank me, because I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re going to be disappointed. This is a whole lot of effort for basically nothing¡­are you sure you¡¯re not in love with him?¡±

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 06

    ¡°We haven¡¯t seen each other in a while.¡±

    The next afternoon, Little Water was once again seated in the welcoming room of the estate, trying to contain her excitement. She¡¯d wanted to claim her reward for her discovery immediately, but Lou refused. Her human wasn¡¯t being held in the estate, but in a warehouse with their other belongings. They would have to retrieve him. That, and Lou insisted that their meeting be chaperoned. She didn¡¯t want to bother at night so Lou declared that it would take place the next day.

    She, Earl, and Kierra had already departed to retrieve Khan as well as the rest of their belongings some time ago. When Little Water heard footsteps approaching her, she suspected it was the sound of their return, her tail tapping the cushion it laid on as she straightened. Her attention waned to confusion as the fair-haired human she¡¯d captured to be her guide to the agent entered the room.

    She thought she was quite good at reading expressions, having studied with her human, but his features were smooth and his tone casual, giving her no hints. He was outside of his armor, a rarity for a northern knight, his lean figure covered by ill-fitting clothes of common design. Days old stubble soiled his usually clean shaven face and the whites of his eyes were tinged with red.

    ¡°You have not been around,¡± she stated neutrally as he approached. She didn¡¯t understand the fair-haired man. She¡¯d assaulted him, kidnapped him, and forced him to aid her. Logic dictated that they would enemies, or at least that he would be hostile to her. Yet, he wasn¡¯t. If anything, he friendly.

    He sighed, perching on the end of the couch she sat on. ¡°I needed some space. Your revelations were quite shocking.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I offered to help with the March, but Alana firmly said it was none of my business and sent me to the Myriad Zone with some funds.¡± The smile conjured by his laughter twisted into a rueful expression. ¡°I guess she was getting me out of the way. I wouldn¡¯t have been much help.¡±

    Little Water wondered if he was expecting her to comfort him. Her human taught her that humans bared their fears to one another, seeking support from their brood. It was a concept more foreign to her than their aboveground shelters. Her sisters never hesitated to pounce on any failings she displayed, doing anything it took to raise their positions and eliminate competition.

    She had proved herself nothing but an enemy and yet, he was still making himself vulnerable before her. It was¡­strange. Strange, but not unpleasant. Far better than him working against her.

    For that, she decided to grant his unspoken request. Moving closer, she extended her tail, wrapping the end around his calf. He jerked, looking at her with an expression that was hard to decipher. ¡°It is good that you were away,¡± she said, softening her voice to the whisper that worked well with her human when his worries got the best of him. ¡°Your death would have been an unnecessary loss.¡±

    He chuckled with a little more energy. ¡°Didn¡¯t know you cared.¡±

    ¡°I owe you.¡± He had helped her. If he was an enemy, she would use him without care, but if they were going to be allies, she should work to erase her wrongs against him.

    ¡°I won¡¯t argue, though you¡¯ve already given me something.¡±

    Little Water thought back, but she couldn¡¯t remember such a thing. ¡°What?¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Insight.¡± His eyes glowed as he raised a hand. Little Water flinched as a ball of light appeared over his palm, brightening the gloom of the room caused by the tightly closed shutters over the windows, but she quickly mastered herself. Experience told her that magic being used to next to her was an attack and it took effort to convince herself otherwise.

    ¡°I never thought hard about my life and what it¡¯d amount to. There aren¡¯t many options in the north, but this set my path in stone. I would be a knight, a duelist, and I would slay titans. I never saw a problem with it or doubted my path.¡±

    The glow in his eyes faded, the ball disappearing as his hand dropped limply to his side. ¡°But now, all I have is questions. How did things get to where they are? Victory marches beyond the Peaks every winter to fight monsters. Hundreds and thousands die, but we¡¯ve gotten accustomed to the loss. They die so that the next generation gets one step closer to victory. Victory over, apparently, the estrazi, who are guarding the world from the being that nearly ended it. That doesn¡¯t make any sense.

    ¡°Why are we fighting? We should be helping one another. No sane person would march against you if they knew about you, what your people do. So, did the founders not know? If they didn¡¯t, why didn¡¯t the estrazi tell them? And if they did, what were they thinking?¡±

    ¡°If there are records about the brood interacting with the humans of that time, I don¡¯t know of them,¡± Little Water offered. ¡°I do know that the estrazi generally don¡¯t cooperate with other creatures in our duties. We were given purpose by the majesties. Our missions are sacred. Only those who dedicate themselves to them the way we do could be trusted and every civilization¡¯s dedication has been found wanting. In the end, they always prioritize their people, their cities, or their personal glory. This would have been right after what you call the Great War, when our people were attacked around the world and driven away. Trust would have been¡­difficult. Impossible.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°So, the answer is to send titans after us?¡±

    ¡°No. While we languish in the north, the rest of the world continues without our intervention, those who would engage in the worst taboos living without censor. That¡¯s why it¡¯s so important that we open communication with Victory.¡± The estrazi were the guardians of the world, not the corner of a single continent. While guarding the prison of the Defiler was an important duty, it would be for naught if another Defiler appeared because of their shortsightedness.

    The fair-haired human shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s the biggest question of all. It¡¯s impossible to go back to being a simple knight grateful to make it back home at the end of a campaign. Not when there are cities being crushed and dragons lurking. I¡­have to do something. But what do you do in the face of those kinds of problems? It¡¯s all so¡­big. Give me a sword and an enemy, I¡¯m fine. This? I don¡¯t have a clue. Maybe that¡¯s why¡ª"

    He cut himself off by coughing into a hand. ¡°What I meant is that I admire your vision. I understand how impressive it is to face these things head on. You¡¯re an incredible woman, Little Water.¡±

    His words were foolish. If he thought as much, she could only assume that he had seen very few impressive things in his life. What was her reckless floundering against obstacles before her sisters, like Great Earth, that maintained and expanded the estrazi¡¯s warren every day? Or Great Fire that could reduce even the largest of the titans to ash with a single spell? She was insignificant. That¡¯s why her decisions had to be larger than her.

    ¡°I face these issues because there is no other choice. If nothing changes, they will crush us.¡±

    He hummed noncommittally while staring into her eyes. The moment dragged on for so long, she was contemplating asking him if something was wrong but a commotion drew her attention. She looked over her shoulder as Lou and Kierra entered the room, a long rectangular box between them. They set it down carefully, Lou letting out a long sigh and rolling her shoulders.

    ¡°I thought I would have to throw Marcella out of a window to get her off of us,¡± the agent sighed. ¡°Where is Max when you need her? Without any competition to be wary of, that woman is getting bold¡ª¡±

    Lou paused as she saw the two of them on the couch, her annoyed frown turning into a smile after a short pause. ¡°Am I interrupting?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Little Water quickly retracted her tail as the fair-haired man stood. ¡°Good to see you, Lou.¡±

    ¡°You too, Lance. You¡¯ve got interesting timing.¡± Her foot lightly tapped the box. ¡°We were just about to wake sleeping beauty.¡±

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 07

    ¡°Just do it.¡±

    Little Water set aside her confusion at the strange request she¡¯d been asked to perform and pressed her lips to Khan¡¯s, bending over his seated form, tail outstretched to aide her balance. He didn¡¯t move, not so much as a twitch. As expected.

    That didn¡¯t stop the snickers of the one who organized the farce. She straightened and turned to Lou, who was smiling broadly. ¡°Was that good enough?¡±

    ¡°Clearly not if he¡¯s still asleep.¡± The agent snickered again while waving a hand. ¡°Ignore me, I¡¯m being a bit ridiculous. There¡¯s a popular premise in stories where a beautiful woman is put to sleep by a curse and the only way to break it is the kiss of her true love. Who always happens to be either incredibly rich, incredibly strong, incredibly handsome, or some combination of the three. Ah, it was doomed from the beginning.¡±

    ¡°Will you wake him now?¡± Little Water asked, doing her best to leave the demand out of her tone but she feared some of her anxiousness slipped in.

    ¡°We will, we will. Just waiting for¡ªah.¡± Footsteps drew the room¡¯s attention to the two newcomers; Alana, her clothes soaked with sweat, and Bell, who walked at her heels. ¡°She wanted to be here for this.¡±

    ¡°I figure there will be less trouble if there¡¯s a familiar face around,¡± Alana said while wiping her forehead with the towel draped over her shoulders. Her eyes found Lancecain and her brows furrowed. ¡°You¡­¡±

    The northern knight smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you forgot about me.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I thought you¡¯d gone home. You¡¯re the kind that thrives in a crisis.¡± She winced. ¡°That didn¡¯t come out right.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re Victorians. I¡¯m pretty sure we get crisis in our milk as babies.¡± His friendly smile waned. ¡°A single pair of hands won¡¯t be missed much, I think. There are far more important things happening here. I don¡¯t know how much use I¡¯ll be but¡­I want to stick around.¡± A bit of his smile returned. ¡°If you and your wife will permit it.¡±

    Alana looked toward Lou who raised her brows. ¡°He¡¯s your childhood buddy. No offense, Lance.¡±

    ¡°None taken. I only hope that we can grow closer in the future.¡±

    ¡°Saints, no need to turn on the charm. You¡¯re a decent guest and we can feed one more mouth. Alana?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, but where will he stay? The guest wing is¡­you know.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Good point. Er, how do you feel about camping?¡±

    Lancecain didn¡¯t balk at the suggestion of being put outside. ¡°I¡¯ve camped in a northern winter. I imagine it¡¯ll be a lot more comfortable in this warm weather.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll keep you comfortable enough. For a little while. We don¡¯t plan on staying in this estate, or this city, for much longer. Once my pet finishes sniffing out the guilds¡¯ treasures, we¡¯re gone. Hopefully, before anyone annoying shows up¡­and I just jinxed myself, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    Kierra chuckled. ¡°As I said on the eve of our union, trouble is the fate of the talented.¡±

    The grunt she received in response was hard to decipher. ¡°Who¡¯s waking him up?¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Little Water side-stepped as the tiny red creature scampered across the ground and fought the urge to intervene as it climbed over her human, resting in his lap. Kierra sat down beside him. ¡°We¡¯ll be working together. I am in charge of waking his body while the pet will watch over his mind.¡±

    ¡°Is there any reason to worry?¡± Little Water asked. It would be the height of irony if the ones who were determined to ¡°fix¡± his mind shattered it.

    ¡°I cannot claim to have complete knowledge of how the body affects the mind under such circumstances, but I have no reason to believe there will be trouble. There is no sense is not preparing when we have those capable close. He is family. That means extra care.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Alana mumbled barely loud enough for those with average hearing to make it out.

    ¡°Of course, star.¡± Kierra raised a hand and placed it on Khan¡¯s cheek, her eyes glowing with channeled mana. ¡°Bell.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡±

    Little Water watched their actions intensely, though there was little to see. The process was slower than she expected, dragging on for minutes, but she appreciated the extra care. Each gesture he made stoked her rising excitement: a flick of his finger, a twitch of his lips, the jerk of his leg.

    As they worked, the small human dashed into the room, carrying a small bowl with a rag hanging over the edge. She climbed onto the couch and wiped Khan¡¯s face with care before disappearing as quick as she came, leaving two confused balls of golden fur in her wake.

    Eventually, Khan¡¯s brows furrowed and his eyes fluttered open. His bleary gaze slowly focused, moving from one person to another. There was confusion when he stopped on the fair-haired man. Worry when his eyes found his sister.

    When he looked at Little Water¡­

    Frustration.

    Annoyance made her tail lash. It was a far cry from her human¡¯s usual reaction to her presence. It would be a trial if she had to rebuild their relationship from the beginning. Perhaps impossible. Theirs were special circumstances. Fated, some might say. Nothing that could be orchestrated.

    Kierra¡¯s eyes stopped glowing as she removed her hand, smiling smugly. ¡°He is perfectly fine.¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± the imp added. Given it wasn¡¯t desperately working a spell, Little Water took the sound to be agreement.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see then.¡± Lou stepped in front of Khan, bending over to look him in the eye. She snapped a few times to catch his attention. ¡°There we go. Welcome back, brother-in-law.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª" He coughed weakly, his hand rising to her throat. With impeccable timing, the small human returned, this time carrying a try with a thin pitcher of water and an already filled cup. She stopped by the couch and the imp took the tray, setting in on an empty cushion before helping her human to drink. Job complete, the small human dashed off again, the fluffs she left behind hopping after her with relieved squeaks.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± Khan asked after he sipped a glass and a half of water.

    ¡°We¡¯re in Quest.¡±

    ¡°The March¡­¡±

    ¡°Looks like your memory is intact. He¡¯s also not foaming at the mouth, so I think we¡¯re good here.¡±

    ¡°Wh¡ª"

    ¡°I¡¯m getting to it. Here¡¯s the important bits. You are still in our custody. We still don¡¯t trust you, or that you¡¯re even you, so you don¡¯t get a say in much. You shouldn¡¯t even be awake right now, but someone has been very insistent on speaking with you.¡± Lou straightened up and stepped aside. Once more, her human¡¯s eyes found her and the frustration returned.

    ¡°I¡­you¡¯re so familiar but¡­¡±

    Little Water¡¯s eyes shut as her tail wrapped around her ankle, a self-soothing gesture. She suspected they¡¯d wiped his memory. Unfortunately, they hadn¡¯t made it a condition for him to remember her once he served his purpose. Inwardly, she cursed her callous family. She hated knowing that her life was an insignificant piece in someone else¡¯s game.

    ¡°Ah, saints. They really did a number on you.¡±

    ¡°Khan.¡± Alana laid a hand on her brother¡¯s shoulder. ¡°If you are too tired or don¡¯t want to do this now¡ª"

    ¡°No!¡± The forceful shout was too much for his throat and sent him into another coughing fit. Kierra laid a glowing hand on his cheek and it eased. Her human drew in a long, steadying breath before meeting his sister¡¯s eyes. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I want to talk to¡­her.¡±

    Alana¡¯s eyes flicked over him before she nodded and stepped away.

    ¡°We better give them some space.¡± At Lou¡¯s prodding, the room began to empty. The agent was the last one to leave but she stopped beside Little Water first, a hand tightly gripping her shoulder. ¡°As long as you know that it¡¯s not really private. I don¡¯t trust you either. You try anything, it¡¯ll be the last thing you do.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡±

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 08

    ¡°I guess we should start with introductions¡­though that feels wrong.¡±

    Little Water thought back to their first meeting, to how she had handled her human back when they knew nothing of each other besides the stories fed to them by their elders. He was a cautious creature at heart. He had no appetite for conflict despite being raised in it and had latched onto the chance to talk to his supposed enemies with startling enthusiasm.

    Keeping in mind his skittish nature, she forsook her first thought of sitting beside him. Instead, she pulled the lounge chair closer to the couch, sitting in it sideways and draping her tail over one of the arms.

    ¡°What do you remember?¡±

    ¡°Enough that I can guess who you are. What you are to me. But whenever I try to focus on specific memories¡­¡± He grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s like there¡¯s a blizzard raging in my mind, obscuring everything. Sometimes, I can see something through the snow but it¡¯s only flashes and fuzzy outlines. I can¡¯t even find your name.¡±

    ¡°Little Water.¡±

    ¡°Should be Tall Water.¡±

    I wouldn¡¯t call you little. Maybe Tall Water.

    She smiled as she recalled the memory of their first true conversation. Her sister might have hollowed him, but he was still her human. ¡°I¡¯m not that tall. You¡¯re short.¡±

    His lips turned up in a smirk before he frowned with confusion. ¡°I usually hate it when people say that.¡±

    ¡°Because you are average.¡±

    ¡°Ha! That¡¯s right. Average just means short for men.¡±

    ¡°I told you I liked your size. It was easy for you to move through the warren.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­I was there. I remember being shocked, amazed, terrified¡­but I don¡¯t know by what.¡±

    ¡°I showed you our way of life. How we thrived in the harsh cold without slaughtering other creatures or each other. You wished the same for your people. You wondered what they could be if unchained from the burden of a pointless war. We used to lie on the cold floor of my room, huddled for warmth as we discussed it.¡±

    Khan dropped his head, avoiding her stare. ¡°Something in me knows that¡¯s right. I feel things. I just can¡¯t connect those feelings to memories. To you.¡± He looked up, features twisted in distaste. ¡°I agreed to this?¡±

    ¡°You did, but you didn¡¯t have much choice. Neither of us did.¡±

    ¡°That feels right too. But I wanted to do it¡­didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°You did. You wanted to show the brood that humans could sacrifice for the good of the world. The good thing is that you made progress there. None of my sisters are ready to support an alliance with humanity but a few were interested in you. They see you as an exception.¡±

    ¡°All it takes for the exception to become the rule is time and dedication. Victorians weren¡¯t always insane.¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°You said that before too.¡±

    They lapsed into comfortable silence, ignoring the awkward edges of it. Things were different now and it was doubtful that they¡¯d ever be the same. However, they were the same people. They still wanted the same thing. The path they walked might have had an unexpected bend, but they still walked it together. For now, that was good enough.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± he asked. His wistful tone said he didn¡¯t expect an answer, but Little Water was already contemplating the same question.

    ¡°You once again surrender your mind to those who would poke around in it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be hard to work up the same enthusiasm, now that I know what it feels like. Not that it matters. I don¡¯t really have a choice this time either.¡±

    ¡°The woes of the weak.¡±

    ¡°That feels familiar.¡±

    Her tail lashed her seat. ¡°We both know what it feels like to be overshadowed by greater talent.¡±

    ¡°Ah. So, what will you do?¡±

    Her tail lashed faster. ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know.¡±

    Khan raised his head and stared at her blankly. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t plan very far ahead.¡± One thought had motivated her journey. In the brood, she had no power. Her every action needed sanctioning by those who thought little of her and less of her ideas. Leaving the north was risky, but at least she would have autonomy, the freedom to exert what little influence she had on the important people connected to her dream. ¡°The odds were against me making it this far.¡±

    Or maybe not. Unlike her, her father did have a plan and there was a good chance she was a part of it.

    Khan laughed ruefully. ¡°What a pair we make.¡±

    ¡°Do you have doubts?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°No. Our chance of success is so small it might as well be nonexistent, but that¡¯s still better than the hundred percent chance that Victory will fall if it continues as is. They¡¯ll march too far, they¡¯ll lose too many, or a James will fail to live up to their fanatical standards. Blood and delusions hold the fort together and neither of them are infinite.¡±

    ¡°Then there¡¯s no choice but to move forward.¡± She stilled her tail, doing her best to project an air of confidence. ¡°I have some idea of what needs to be done.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Mm. There are two things we need to do.¡± She laced her fingers to keep her claws from digging into the furniture. ¡°The first is to ingratiate ourselves to Lou. Her words decide your reputation in the north. She is your warden. She holds both of our lives in her hands and has the strength to do with them as she pleases.¡±

    ¡°Not to mention my father likes her.¡±

    ¡°He does? You told me he doesn¡¯t like anyone.¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t, or so I thought. At the very least he respects her. Letting me leave Victory was a risk, very close to breaking the iron-clad ideology of the James family. He wouldn¡¯t trust just anyone to carry that responsibility.¡±

    ¡°That just gives more weight to the second thing we need to accomplish; we must convince Lou to support the estrazi-human alliance.¡± Little Water¡¯s biggest concern was convincing Great Mother. The humans were stubborn, but they were weak. If necessary, the brood could enforce peace unto them until they realized its benefits and grew accustomed to its comforts.

    The only beings that could force anything on the matriarch of the estrazi were the majesties. It would take something similar to even catch her attention. If there was one thing that could do it, it was the presence of a second agent. The Outsider was one of the greatest threats to the world. For good or ill, when the brood became aware of Lou, she would have their undivided attention.

    The brood didn¡¯t need an alliance with the humans, but they¡¯d certainly be interested in subverting Lou. If Little Water could convince one of the Outsider¡¯s agents to work against its influence, to be a force for order rather than chaos¡­

    Well, she wouldn¡¯t be Little Water anymore. They¡¯d probably have to invent a new title for her. Great Diplomat. Great Thinker. Or perhaps she would become an Eye if the brood took her scheming to be a lesser act of her father¡¯s fate reading.

    ¡°How do you plan to do that?¡± Khan asked, rousing her from her musings. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of trouble for anyone.¡±

    ¡°I just have to make sure there are ample rewards.¡± Whether they could do it was without doubt. The brood had more than enough to tempt even the most steadfast soul. The true challenge was convincing her sisters to part with their treasures.

 Miniarc-Ambitious Aberrant 09

    ¡°Time¡¯s up, love lizards.¡±

    Little Water looked up as Lou entered the room. After confirming her human was himself, for the most part, and they were still a team, their chat had turned to less serious matters. The brood was not a community that encouraged small talk. That was a skill that she learned from Khan. They talked about each other, mostly Little Water talking about herself in an effort to soothe Khan¡¯s distress over his hazy memory, and they talked about what they would do after they succeeded.

    Khan wanted to draw a map of the world. Not the normal flat, black and white accumulation of facts and distances. He wanted to draw the world in color, to author and illustrate a compendium of every place, every notable landmark, and every climate. A functional work of art, he called it.

    A dream that required him to travel the world. That¡¯s what allowed him to make the best maps of the north; he walked the cold wasteland until he became a part of it. Knew its hidden paths better than he knew the lines on his palms or his own family.

    There was nothing stopping him from walking away anytime but if he did so before he sorted the conflict between the peoples of the north, he would be an exile, an embarrassment that would never be welcomed by his family again. That and the guilt that would come from leaving his family to march to a futile future kept him chained to Victory. He hinted that he wouldn¡¯t mind the two of them making his fantastical journey together, something he¡¯d done many times before.

    Little Water didn¡¯t have a clear idea of what she wanted from life if she managed the impossible, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t be the years of worry-free idling Khan envisioned. Now, her life was limited because she was worthless. If she proved herself capable, her life would still be limited, constrained by expectations.

    The first thing she¡¯d have to do was choose a mate and pass down her talents. Three clutches at minimum but it could be as much as ten if Great Mother was particularly satisfied with her. Then, she would be put to work for the brood.

    Maybe she would help build a second warren in the south. Or maybe she would be charged with replicating her success with other races; create the staging grounds for the estrazi to resume their worldwide duties. Either way, she was sure it would mean parting ways with her human.

    Not forever, but for long stretches of time, at the very least. Unless he was willing to submit to the estrazi, something he would never do. He might not have a stomach for war, but Khan knew his own mind. He could be stubborn. Otherwise, he would have caved to the pressures of his family long ago.

    But that was something she kept to herself. It would break his heart if she told him the truth, a pointless offense if they both died. She never committed to his suggestions but letting him live in hope was a small kindness.

    One he appreciated from his visible reluctance as their time came to an abrupt end. Lou didn¡¯t care about it at all, her smile firmly in place as she exaggeratedly sniffed the air. ¡°Huh. You two really only talked.¡±

    Little Water had learned from watching other humans that they got red in the face when they were feeling nervous. A blush didn¡¯t show on Khan¡¯s darker complexion, but it was just as easy to know when he was flustered. Her human had poor control when he was embarrassed or angry. His indignant sputtering almost made him seem guilty, as there seemed no cause for its intensity otherwise.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°What kind of man do you think I am!¡± he eventually shouted.

    ¡°You don¡¯t really want me to answer that question,¡± the noblewoman said as she strolled further into the room. Following behind her was the little red creature, walking on its hind legs as it rolled a ball of dirt in front of it. Lou stopped in front of Khan, blocking Little Water¡¯s view of him. ¡°I can respect not wanting to make a move in someone else¡¯s living room, but you don¡¯t have the luxury of being so considerate. There¡¯s competition waiting to swoop in given the slightest chance.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Right now¡­¡± She trailed off as the imp reached her feet. Its four scarlet eyes began to glow as the dirt it was rolling broke apart. The earth flowed through the air, bringing Khan¡¯s wrists and ankles together hardening into restraints.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked, voice wary.

    ¡°Did you already forget, love brain? I don¡¯t trust you. You¡¯re less a guest than you are a chore. A potentially disastrous chore. Get used to how that feels because you¡¯re not going to be walking around free for a while. Now, Bell¡¯s going to take care of you for a bit while I have a conversation with Scales.¡±

    Little Water obeyed Lou¡¯s prompting to rise. ¡°We will speak again,¡± she told her human as he watched her with reluctance.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    Lou led her through the estate and out the back door, stopping once they were several strides away from the house. Little Water did her best to become one with the shadows as the noblewoman basked under the half moon, a thick tension surrounding her. She wasn¡¯t afraid, at least not consciously, but it was hard to fight the instinct telling her to be as still and quiet as possible, so the nearby predator ignored her.

    ¡°I told you that conversation wouldn¡¯t be private.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Little Water said when the silence dragged on.

    ¡°You made an outrageous claim despite that. Don¡¯t you dare ask me what I¡¯m talking about.¡±

    ¡°You mean my suggestion that you support the alliance we¡¯re trying to build.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got enough trouble without sticking my nose into that. Especially since I don¡¯t have talent for it.¡± She chuckled but there was no humor in the sound. ¡°The last time I tried to do something peaceful, I crushed a city under my huge oozey ass. Need me to destroy something? Sure, no problem. Building? Not so good at that.¡± She waved a hand. ¡°Best to keep my mitts out of it.¡±

    ¡°The agents of the Outsider are creatures of change,¡± Little Water said slowly. ¡°We associate it with chaos, but it can also mean transformation. Transformation into something greater. The two don¡¯t need to be separate. Sometimes, before something can be changed, it has to be destroyed. Reduced to make space for something new.¡±

    ¡°Good pep talk. Still not interested.¡±

    ¡°The estrazi can make it worth your interest.¡±

    ¡°More than my benefactor? I think of him as a second father, you know. That makes your prisoner a kind of sister to me.¡±

    Little Water fought the urge to hiss. ¡°You would free the Defiler?¡±

    ¡°Saints, no. Not in a hurry to let the dragon that broke the world free¡­but not in a hurry doesn¡¯t mean never. She was chosen like me. In a way, she¡¯s family. I don¡¯t have so much of that I¡¯m willing to turn a blind eye to one. At the very least, she deserves to tell her side. And even if she didn¡¯t, I want to hear it. Don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to go over well with your people.¡±

    ¡°It will be fine. Many of my sisters have listened to the Defiler and their faith wasn¡¯t shaken.¡±

    ¡°Ugh. Saints save me from fanatics.¡±

    ¡°The estrazi can open the world to you,¡± Little Water pressed. ¡°We have accounts of every intelligent race in the world and treasures from every continent.¡±

    Lou scoffed. ¡°And I have the means to obtain treasures from a thousand worlds. You¡¯re going to have to do better than that.¡± Little Water opened her mouth to continue convincing her, but the noblewoman cut her off. ¡°Take some time. You¡¯ve got till winter to figure it out. In the meantime, you¡¯ve got more pressing problems. Particularly, what are you going to do in the next few weeks?

    ¡°I assume you¡¯re going to keep close as long as we have Khan so you better figure something out. The city¡¯s too busy to worry about a bunch of strange figures in hood but it won¡¯t be like that in other places. You need to decide how you¡¯re going to handle revealing yourself to the rest of Harvest. Or, if you aren¡¯t ready, figure out how to hide a lot better.¡±

    ¡°Then we are welcome?¡±

    ¡°Sure, why not? Trying to head off the problems doesn¡¯t seem to work. Might as well keep them close where I can keep an eye on them.¡±

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 01

    The old sea hags that read fortunes in fish bones taught the children of Graywatch that people could be born beneath bad stars, poor bastards so despised by the world that it conspired to ruin them at every turn. They were those shunned by the light, born in darkness and cursed to stumble through it all their lives, crashing headfirst into every obstacle hidden within.

    But misfortune always traveled with opportunity. If they could overcome their trials, they were always better than those pampered by life. A hot forge was needed to make a proper blade, after all.

    The hags would smile as they finished their explanation, point at whatever children they¡¯d managed to get their claws on for the day, and inform them with great glee that they were one of the unloved and could expect many storms in their lives. Why? Because they had the dubious fortune of being born in a cursed land. It wasn¡¯t just people that could be born under bad signs. Places could attract bad fortune too and Graywatch was a prime example. Bad had seeped into every rock, every tree, and every grain of sand. It was inevitable that it¡¯d seep into the people too.

    However, that didn¡¯t mean they were irredeemable.

    Or so Maxine hoped. She¡¯d bet quite a lot on the people of Graywatch.

    ¡°Mornin¡¯, boss.¡±

    As usual, Briar waited outside her room, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and drooping eyes. She was a large woman, two heads taller than Maxine and twice as wide. Her dark brown hair was shaved on both sides, the right side of her head marred by an angry burn that spoke of her experience.

    While the Guiness name could do many things, she wasn¡¯t naive enough to think it was foolproof protection. Especially in a city full of ruffians with a convenient ocean nearby that would happily swallow any unwanted corpses. There wasn¡¯t enough gold in the world to pacify Graywatch and no mercenaries with functioning brains would ever take contracts against the vengeful pirates. Beyond that, she wasn¡¯t here on her father¡¯s behalf. The marquis was not the doting type that would sweep in to clean up his children¡¯s messes, particularly if it endangered his business in anyway. She was on her on and as such had taken precautions.

    ¡°Good morning. Is¡ª"

    ¡°The boys are downstairs messing about with Dunder.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Her time in the city had been educational above all else. She had been taught that there were groups in the kingdom that had radically different ways than the civilized methods that pervaded noble society, but it was entirely different to experience as much. One of the most jarring practices were the way they handed business meetings.

    Incredibly, those who wanted to do business, usually the captains of larger vessels, rarely conducted their business face to face. Instead, lackeys were sent to carry their words back and forth. The messenger would sometimes have to run through the whole city to track down their target without a set meeting time. Then, they were forced to wait to be seen. And they would, as they didn¡¯t dare fail in their orders, whether it took one hour or days.

    Maxine was taught that punctuality was a way to show respect to a business partner. It was also more practical, as more got done with good scheduling. However, it was the opposite in Graywatch. Their strange practice had led to meetings being delayed so often that messengers expected to wait. Someone showing up to a meeting promptly was seen as weakness, taken that they were scared of offending the other party.

    The best method was to have food and drink waiting for any messengers and to send another lackey to entertain them. Said lackey was expected to boast about their boss¡¯ many accomplishments, usually exaggerated until they had slain a kraken with one hand tied behind their back and the other one holding a mug or beautiful woman.

    Thom had been the one to enlighten her about the strange practice, saving her from embarrassment. The first thing she did after arriving in the city was to find a local ¡°expert¡±. Or rather, she¡¯d left as much to the Guiness knights that she¡¯d brought with her. Maxine had many complaints about her sister, but one good trait that Marcella had was that she wasn¡¯t petty. In the grand competition to impress their father, most of her siblings had turned on one another. Their shared blood wouldn¡¯t stop them from tearing each other apart.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Marcella could have used her position to crush Maxine but she did nothing to hinder Maxine¡¯s efforts. She was curious when her meandering sister suddenly declared that she wanted to leave on business, but she hadn¡¯t hounded her for details and didn¡¯t name a ridiculous price when Maxine said she wanted to borrow two of the knights assigned to Quest¡¯s branch of the Golden Feathers. Maxine was convinced that the good temper was rooted in arrogance rather than any kind of positive emotion, Marcella being so convinced of her superiority she didn¡¯t need to resort to methods she considered ¡°dirty¡±, but it was admirable.

    After Thom, Maxine had hired two local fighters, Blaine and Briar. A brother and sister that used to work on a hauler, what they called the largest ships and their crews that hauled up treasures from the sea, whether that was food or monsters, one of the few moral jobs on the sea. They were perfect because they were both knowledgeable about local threats and had connections without any bad blood that would taint Maxine¡¯s image. A small but effective team.

    Graywatch didn¡¯t have hotels, as in no establishment meant to offer travelers comfort away from their homes. There were plenty of taverns that had extra rooms on their second floors but there was nothing comfortable about them. Maxine had splurged for a room in one of the finer establishments but all that bought was a cleanish room and a bar that closed at a respectable hour of rather than pouring drinks all night, fueling a ruckus that was impossible to sleep through.

    At least she liked fish. She imagined anyone who didn¡¯t would find Graywatch more hellish than most, as the people had something from the sea in every meal. As she stepped down the stairs that led to the main floor of the tavern, the sound of booming laughter drew her attention to a table of three men enjoying an enormous plate of shrimp. She¡¯d taken a particular liking to them and snatched one off the plate once she reached the table.

    Another strange way things worked. Leaders, especially captains, were expected to be greedy bastards. If they didn¡¯t take small liberties, people began to wonder if they were taking bigger ones. Petty theft actually improved her reputation.

    ¡°Boss.¡± Blaine, not Thom, stood so she could take his seat. The man was bigger than his sister, with limbs as thick as logs. He was naturally intimidating and him deferring to her was a statement. Graywatch cared for strength above all else. A captain was nothing without a crew behind them.

    ¡°Miss Guiness!¡± The coastal people also weren¡¯t big on etiquette. She hadn¡¯t heard a lord or lady since the smell of the sea first entered her nose. Being addressed with miss instead of some crude misnomer was about as much as the men she¡¯d been dealing with were capable of. ¡°Mornin¡¯!¡±

    ¡°Good morning, Dunder. I assume it you¡¯re here so early because you¡¯ve brought me good news?¡± It was a struggle to mix the local derogatory and brusque way of negotiation into the more formal style she knew but Maxine thought she was getting better at it.

    The big man sitting across from her grinned and she exercised control not to show her disgust at the evidence of poor hygiene. ¡°Ye. Captain says he¡¯ll take as many barrels of that burny stuff as you got. He wants some of our boys in your learning place too.¡±

    ¡°Excellent.¡± Maxine came to the dangerous city prompted by one thought; she would get nowhere while constantly acting in the shadows of her betters: her father, Marcella, even Lou to an extent. Lou told her to make an offer she couldn¡¯t resist. The challenge made the young merchant realize something; she had nothing to offer. Nothing that she could point to and declare she had dreamed it, built it, and nurtured it until it was a thing she could be proud of. Who was she to offer anything?

    Somewhere in the midst of wallowing in disappointment after being told off, Maxine came to a harsh realization. The Guiness family fortune was a big prize¡­and maybe too big for her. Like a child choking on a dessert after eating too hastily, she¡¯d let her fixation on winning her father¡¯s approval blind her to rest of life. That dedication would be her downfall. Whatever the marquis was looking for in his next heir, it wasn¡¯t someone that would follow him and do his bidding. His disinterest in her and the favor he showed Marcella should have made that clear long ago. Maxine had tried her best to emulate him but, despite his enormous ego, he didn¡¯t want a copy to succeed him.

    If she wanted to stand out, to have a chance of impressing people like him and Lou, then she had to do something beyond the cold calculation of profit. She had to show that she could do the incredible. Perhaps the impossible.

    Like creating a new, legitimate market in a place not even her father could get a foothold.

    ¡°But captain said he ain¡¯t paying three silvers a head. Eight coppers is as high as he¡¯ll go.¡±

    Maxine did her best impression at the shark-like smile the merchants of the city used. It made even the most hardened sailors uncomfortable. Truly, the peddlers of Graywatch made bandits look like upstanding individuals. The criminals would at least leave their victims with the clothes on their backs. Extraneous thoughts faded to the back of her mind as she found herself in familiar territory. Whatever other strange things she experienced in the city, the language of money would always be the same.

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 02

    ¡°A pleasure doing business with you.¡±

    ¡°Ye, maybe for you.¡± Dunder scratched at his bald head, the dusky skin almost entirely covered by a tattoo of an octopus, its tentacles splayed wide. ¡°Captain said I could keep a third of what I saved him. Could have had a good night. Now I¡¯m gonna be spit shining his shell collection.¡±

    ¡°Cheer up, sailor.¡± Blaine walked around the table to slap the large man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Best you get is a tongue lashing, ye? Your cap wouldn¡¯t have sent ye with leave to give up more of his gold if he didn¡¯t expect to lose it. Probably just hoped the miss would take pity on yer sorry ass.¡±

    ¡°Those barks better be served with a drink!¡± The large man huffed as Maxine¡¯s escorts agreeably walked toward the bar. ¡°But he¡¯s not wrong.¡±

    Maxine agreed. She was still learning about the city, but she knew well enough that captains hoarded two things: money and authority. No lackey would go around using either without express permission. Those that did tended to disappear, only to be seen again as skeletons. ¡°I don¡¯t see why he would take issue with you. This deal is good for everyone.¡±

    ¡°Miss, if a sailor knew what was good for ¡®em, we¡¯d all be out of a job and The Gray would be nothing but a spot of sand.¡±

    The natives laughed while Maxine smiled politely. After giving them a moment to indulge their humor, she continued with the ritual of negotiation. ¡°You¡¯ll have to extend an invitation to Captain Omen. Next time, we should talk over a drink.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I¡¯ll tell ¡®em. He¡¯d be a fool not to!¡±

    Foolish or not, her half-hearted invitation would be neglected. The lackey sent in his place, likely Dunder, would accept said drink in his stead with ceremonial importance if not the grace. If the drink was good, it was Dunder¡¯s duty to boast about it to any that cared to listen that day. Another way boost her reputation in the city. Something she didn¡¯t understand the point of until Thom pointed out to her that there were no high society ladies that amused themselves with lunches and balls. Drunken boasting was the city¡¯s gossip machine and the best way to advertise.

    Blaine returned with drinks for the table, mead despite the early hour, and she sent him back to bring breakfast for everyone. In return for the grace, Dunder began to babble, talking about the comings and goings in the city. He was a reliable source of information and from what he said, her initiatives were working well.

    Graywatch was valuable, incredibly so. If it weren¡¯t, the kingdom wouldn¡¯t tolerate the problems it caused and the kind of rebels it generated regularly. Each week, the fishing vessels brought in enough food Maxine wagered it could rival Rosentheim, the breadbasket of the kingdom. They had an abundance of water casters, so many that there was an industry built around ice and preservation.

    With less frequency, the haulers would come in with the corpses of manabeasts, few edible but possessing plenty of worth as alchemical ingredients. Or sometimes, the larger mundane animals. A single catch was enough to keep whalers fed and watered for months if they didn¡¯t waste the crowns indulging. If it was one of the magical variants, then a few indulgences wouldn¡¯t make a difference.

    And yet, there was a world of profit still waiting to be discovered.

    The key lied in the abyssal creatures, strange manabeasts that could be found far from shore. They were closer to nightmares than any creature of flesh and blood, often having too many limbs, too many eyes, too many organs, or nothing recognizable about them at all. None discovered had been anything but horrible, their strange magic a threat that couldn¡¯t be prepared for. To those that knew of them, they were considered worthless in all respects. Yet, the status quo did not define the world.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Where others saw the scourges of the sea, Maxine saw opportunity. Humanity knew little about anything beyond the shores of Harvest. Whatever information her father¡¯s fleet learned in their journeys, they kept it close to their chests and any records that could provide insight were national treasures that would never leave the royal library. The sea monsters came in all kinds of shapes and sizes. The magic was strange, but it was also wondrous. Maxine refused to believe there was nothing to be gained through them. There was simply a lack of interest, which translated to a lack of funding. Something she could rectify.

    The investment wasn¡¯t all that substantial. The creatures were worth nothing in the market. Normally, captains simply threw their corpses back into the sea. They had no problem bringing them back for a few extra crowns, or if not them, a greedy crew member who knew a few discrete places to stow a secret. Her struggles lied in ensuring the longevity of the arrangement.

    Maxine wouldn¡¯t be in Graywatch forever. There were many reasons why she couldn¡¯t relocate to the coast, not least of which were that doing so would be blatantly going against her father¡¯s orders and she simply didn¡¯t like the city. Her last name eased her journey, but it was very much tied to her presence. Any managers she left behind wouldn¡¯t have the same protection, and the degenerates wouldn¡¯t hesitate to take advantage. Thom assured her that they wouldn¡¯t stay in business for a week, thieves relentlessly coming for their gold, lives, or both.

    There was a solution. Maxine needed to forge a reputation, one so fearsome that it would make people who risked their lives everyday think twice about picking a fight with her.

    That was normally accomplished through excessive violence, something Maxine wasn¡¯t capable of. Not just because many of the acts that would have to be done turned her stomach but also because she couldn¡¯t afford it. This project was being funded by her own savings. The last thing she wanted to do was get a loan. If her father¡¯s money got involved, whatever she accomplished would be his, if not in name than in practice. Her goal only had worth if she did it herself but to do so would take discretion.

    She found something other than blood and pain to spread her name. What she did best, a skill she had honed her entire life. Making herself useful.

    Unsurprisingly, the crews of the city weren¡¯t very efficient. Truly, no group in the city was. A combination of strange traditions, ornery personalities, and ignorance meant there were few bureaucratic structures for anything. The market was as fluid as the sea because there was no collaboration between the vendors. The standard of professionals varied wildly as there were no certifications one needed apply for and no education institutions. Most laborers weren¡¯t literate, something that was rarity even amongst peasants.

    Maxine had another theory on why Graywatch remained an untapped market. The people who tried in the past were all important people who thought quite a lot of themselves and their position. Far too much to treat unrepentant criminals as their equals or, saints forbid, their betters. The captains were much the same, whether that perception was deserved or not. With both sides seeking supremacy, it would be impossible to come to an agreement.

    Maxine had no such compulsion. She¡¯d spent her life catering to a strong ego. What did she care if the captains liked to bluster? What was a little more effort to follow their strange ways of doing things? If being thought of as a lackey let her make money, spread her business, and protect her people, they could call her a ship monkey or whatever other name they cared for.

    That didn¡¯t mean her interactions with the leaders of the city were bereft of challenges.

    One of them chose to make itself known as she finished her meeting. The moment Dunder walked out of the tavern, a man hopped off a stool at the bar and swaggered over. He didn¡¯t wait for an invitation before taking the recently evacuated seat across from Maxine, scooting the chair back to put his feet on the table comfortably. No one objected. At her sides, her people tensed.

    ¡°Ye¡¯ve been busy,¡± he said.

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 03

    Maxine never cared for love.

    She didn¡¯t object to the idea of romance. She objected to the reality of it. Any thoughts she had of admiration for another were always accompanied by cruel rationale about the consequences of a dalliance and the impossibility of a relationship. Her father¡¯s many conquests and Marcella¡¯s exploits soured her opinion of the kind of people she could trust to navigate a discrete affair. Over time, she lost interest in anything aside from the theory of romance.

    A lack of interest from her didn¡¯t mean a lack of interest in her from others. As a Guiness daughter, she was used to being desired and had learned to endure greedy looks. But no experience could prepare her for the attention of her minder. She didn¡¯t think a mere gaze could make her sick until he proved her wrong. The problem was that he didn¡¯t desire her. He desired to use her for some purpose she didn¡¯t care to learn the specifics of and some age-old instinct meant she could feel it like a worm squirming in her stomach whenever he got too close.

    ¡°Jack,¡± she greeted neutrally. A small miracle. There were few who could greet the man without cursing.

    He had a deceptively average appearance; unremarkable height, the tanned pallor that dominated the population, flat features that were arranged in a way that was easily forgettable. His life hadn¡¯t left any reminders in the form of scars or misaligned bones. If not for his scruffy appearance and the large-brimmed black leather hat that was common to sailors, he wouldn¡¯t stand out walking the streets of the capital or anywhere else.

    So long as no one looked into his eyes. No matter what expression he made, the dark orbs never changed. They were cold and cruel, revealing the soul that lurked within.

    He was the kind that gave the city its bad reputation. The kind that never left the shore because the squalid city was the only place he could survive. The biggest obstacle to her plans. So long as she was dealing with people motivated by profit, Maxine was confident in finding the road to a satisfactory negotiation. Those who would reject business and progression because they wanted the city to remain a stain on the kingdom? They were like storms. Nothing to do but hold on to something and ride them out. Or even better, avoid them.

    Unfortunately, avoidance wasn¡¯t an option for her.

    ¡°Ye should use my sign,¡± Jack said as reached for a spare roll on the table, munching on it without regard for his visibly dirty hands. ¡°Hundreds of Jacks on the docks, none of ¡®em with a drop of proper blood. Signs mean something here.  The way your fancy name means something to the landies.¡±

    His words were true. Sailors put a strong emphasis on their nicknames, or signs. They, especially the criminals, cared far more about an individual¡¯s power than their predecessors. Simple strength wasn¡¯t enough. It was about what they did with it. A sailor was defined by his feats; the harshest storm they¡¯d survived, the biggest haul they¡¯d brought to shore, and the nastiest villain they¡¯d traded blows with. If anything, having a successful forbearer was detrimental, as being compared to a legend made it that much harder for their own accomplishments to stand out.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Maxine didn¡¯t object to the practice. Her distaste was reserved for him alone. To call him by his sign would be to acknowledge what he had done to receive it. One did not get a sign like ¡°Hollow Jack¡± for doing good deeds.

    ¡°You needed something?¡± she asked, pushing down her fear. So long as she had the protection of his captain, he wouldn¡¯t hurt her, but it was a thin guarantee. There was no way to truly control animals like Jack.

    ¡°Captain¡¯s concerned about you keeping to the deal.¡±

    She didn¡¯t fight the frown his words summoned, wanting him to know the very idea that she would renege on an agreement offended her. ¡°What have I done to earn such distrust?¡±

    ¡°Not you, little miss. Seems the hunters picked a fight with the wrong beast and got stomped to dust, along with their city.¡±

    ¡°¡­is that a joke?¡±

    Jack chuckled. ¡°Ye¡¯re lucky. Much as I like leading silly little girls around, Captain¡¯s serious bout this. He wants a meeting.¡±

    Coldness crept down her spine. ¡°You¡¯re serious.¡±

    ¡°As a storm.¡± He snatched more leftover food, chewing noisily. ¡°The city¡¯s gone.¡±

    A thousand questions entered her mind. Why? How? What had become of her sister and the Guiness properties? But the most pressing question was undoubtedly the state of her own affairs.

    She had forged a connection to her current sponsor as a vendor. Maxine hadn¡¯t received many benefits in her pursuit of securing Lou¡¯s cooperation for her father, but one of them was a closer acquaintance to Howie, the genius half-goblin brewer. Before, he was a reluctant supplier for the Golden Feathers chain but his association with Lou¡¯s family had opened his reserved nature. Her association with the Tome clan and their previous history meant he was willing to do a private contract with her, in much smaller capacity.

    It wasn¡¯t about the getting drunk, though Howie¡¯s abilities in that regard were unmatched. It was about the utility of his brews. The drinks had effects that were almost magical. Seamen feared the cold the same as everyone else and working in storms made them prone to chills. Shroom Inferno, the name Howie gave the drink that was exceptional at warming someone up and keeping them that way, could save lives. The better condition the sailors were in, the better chances their ships returned and the better chances the captains got paid.

    As she was the sole supplier of an unrivaled product, it was in her sponsor¡¯s interest to keep her safe. Maxine counted on it, but she was only protected so long as she could keep up her end of the deal.

    ¡°When¡ª"

    ¡°Soon as,¡± Jack interrupted. ¡°Since I can¡¯t drag ye out now, I¡¯d appreciate ye not making me wait too long.¡±

    ¡°I see. Excuse me.¡± Maxine brusquely stood up and walked back to her room as fast as decorum would allow. Blaine and Briar followed her, Briar following her into the room while her brother remained on the door. A heavier precaution than normal but it paid to be paranoid when men like Hollow Jack lurked about.

    ¡°This going to be a problem, boss?¡± the female fighter asked as Maxine grabbed her papers from the small writing table in the room.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I can afford your wages.¡±

    ¡°Not what I asked, but good to know. I meant is whatever¡¯s going on going to affect the job. We¡¯ll protect ye best we can but it¡¯d help if we knew what was coming.¡±

    ¡°Why would what happened have anything to do with me? I¡¯m dozens of leagues away.¡±

    ¡°Bosses are always mixed up in the trouble. And ye ran from something.¡±

    ¡°I ran from nothing.¡±

    The large woman¡¯s scoff was heavy with disbelief. ¡°Then ye know nothing?¡±

    Maxine grabbed her coin purse before answering. ¡°I have suspicions. If they¡¯re right, then it really has nothing to do with me but that doesn¡¯t mean we won¡¯t be involved. At the very least, I¡¯ll have to return to Quest. If there is active combat, I¡¯ll be taking my guards with me.¡±

    ¡°Feels like ye¡¯re talking around me,¡± Briar grumbled. ¡°What are we fighting?¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s who I think it is? It could be anything.¡±

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 04

    One didn¡¯t keep a captain waiting when called for.

    Jack gave her the leeway to decide when they left, but it wasn¡¯t a kind gesture. Each wasted minute risked invoking her sponsor¡¯s wrath and she was sure his lackey would be eager to report it. As such, she didn¡¯t waste a moment, quickly returning to the main floor. She took some small pleasure in making Jack abandon his drink, as he was just as loathed to waste his boss¡¯ time as she was.

    Maxine wasn¡¯t happy about being led toward the docks. Graywatch wasn¡¯t a pretty place. The roads were sloppy, having been put down as needed rather than planned, and the buildings were squat, ugly things made of drab stone in most places, wood in the poorer areas. Approaching the city, the smell of the sea reached a traveler before the smell of squalidness, but it was a short reprieve.

    The docks were the source of the stench. Fresh fish wasn¡¯t pleasant when fresh. It didn¡¯t take long under even a mild heat to make it unbearable. Adding to it were the hauls brought in by smaller crews that couldn¡¯t afford enough casters to properly preserve their catches. Baths also weren¡¯t common on the sea. A haze of funk lingered over the area, remnants of it spreading to the rest of the city. Unfortunately, it was the place where captains spent the most time ashore, the men appreciating the short distance to the water and their ships.

    Thankfully, her sponsor wasn¡¯t the unreasonable type that forced visitors to wait outside his building, so she only had to endure the foul air for a few moments after hopping off the carriage. Witnesses snickered as she passed them while holding her nose but didn¡¯t dare utter a word in the face of the threats surrounded her. She knew from experience that such an experience was a luxury.

    Her first day in the city, her escorts stopped an eye-opening half dozen pickpockets in the short time it took her to find a room to her liking. Walking into the small bar, the sign with a long, sinuous body crawling out of an empty eye socket of a skull hanging over the door, no one bothered her. Partially because there was no one to bother her.

    The bars close to the dock were different than those in the rest of the city. They were sovereign territory, each one belonging to a specific crew. Without the usual mix of debts and grudges under one roof, they were less tense and rowdy. With the captains frequently in residence, trouble was kept to a minimum. They were the only places someone could have a peaceful drink, or at least as close as Graywatch came to such a thing.

    The ambient noise was set to a soft thrum that didn¡¯t fluctuate when they entered. Jack made eye contact with the man behind the bar and they walked to the discreet door that led to the back. A heavyset man stepped aside to let them through, shutting the door firmly behind her.

    ¡°Max, good.¡±

    They stepped into a large if stereotypical office; a large desk burdened by mounds of paper and tools with shelving all along the side walls. A tall man with thick dark hair and a thicker beard, neatly cut a finger length from his chin, sat in the oversized chair behind the desk, no trace of a proper education in the way he slouched. The seafarers were fond of dark leathers that didn¡¯t stain and withstood the frequent rains well. It was rare to catch them in fine, delicate fabrics like the man wore. The deep V-shaped neckline exposed a hairy chest, a thin golden chain gleaming from within the darkness. Every finger held a ring, the precious metal thick and the gems understated. He was a treasure in a field of trash, his wealth and authority pouring off him in waves.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Hollow, go get a chair,¡± Artor huffed as he pulled a clear bottle filled with brown liquid from his desk along with two glasses. ¡°You three can go get a drink.¡±

    Maxine¡¯s escorts immediately followed the subtle order, Briar squeezing Maxine¡¯s shoulder as she passed. Protecting her didn¡¯t always mean fighting. Nothing would happen to her in ¡°Big Shrimp¡¯s¡± office unless he explicitly ordered it and if he was their enemy, there wouldn¡¯t be much point in fighting. He was the kind of legend that gave the city its reputation; he had made a name for himself on a hauler fighting abyssal creatures before being blooded in the land raids. His wealth was invested in himself rather than vices, first in his personal strength and then into a ship of his own.

    Tens of ambitious men started crews every year. The number that survived could be counted on one hand. It was a meat grinder. Those that survived weren¡¯t only the strongest, they were the meanest and the craftiest. Several decades on, the man was a pillar of the dubious community and had stretched the tendrils of his influence far beyond the coast.

    That was why she chose him. He was used to dealing with the other powers of the kingdom and respected titles more than his peers.

    He was still a pirate at heart though and it would be perilous to forget it.

    Jack returned in short order with her chair. Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t sent out of the room like her guards. It made her uncomfortable, but she did her best to keep it off her face.

    ¡°Hollow should have told you this is about Quest.¡±

    ¡°Is the city really gone?¡± she blurted out. She knew the answer but some part of her refused to let go of her disbelief. It was fantastical. There were times when remote villages were evacuated when threatened by powerful manabeasts, but it hadn¡¯t happened in decades. An entire city being destroyed? Hard to conceptualize, let alone believe.

    ¡°Not completely. The attack was aimed at the guilds, so they avoided the northside of the city.¡±

    Maxine sighed softly. Howie¡¯s bar was located in the Myriad Zone, so he was safe. Her greatest fear was the brewer losing his life. Any other complication could be handed by throwing enough money at it and her venture in Graywatch had been profitable enough that she wouldn¡¯t be broken by a few unexpected expenses. ¡°Do you know what happened?¡±

    ¡°The big idea but not the details. Seems the guilds got into it with a noblewoman and got their collective asses handed to them by a creature that sounds like it crawled out of the darkest hole in the sea.¡± His dark brown eyes narrowed. ¡°A Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Ah. If I¡¯m here to validate that information¡ª"

    ¡°No, my sources are good. One of them is my son. He¡¯s got connections to this Tome woman. Says he¡¯s in her crew, the damn idiot. I didn¡¯t care, thinking he was chasing a skirt as usual, but then the idiot lost his mind and started saying things about how I needed to cooperate with this woman in the future. Defied me to stay close to her. I was going to string the boy up by his toes the second I got my hands on him but now¡­now that woman has just taken on a whole city and utterly crushed them. Crazy as it sounds, I¡¯m thinking my boy might have his head on straight for a change. You¡¯re going to clear this mess up.¡±

    ¡°I¡­know of Lou, more than most, but if I don¡¯t know her closest secrets.¡±

    ¡°You know anything about a city-destroying beast?¡±

    ¡°No, but I know how she might have come across it.¡± Maxine licked her lips. This was an opportunity. Maxine¡¯s biggest vulnerability was lack of combat potential. The more successful she was, the bigger the target she would paint on her back and she didn¡¯t have sufficient deterrents to warn off the animals around her.

    She didn¡¯t trust her sponsor either. For now, Big Shrimp indulged her ideas of partnership but if the profit was big enough, he¡¯d strong arm her and there wasn¡¯t a thing her last name could do about it.

    It was known she had a relationship with Lou. If the pirates were afraid of the noblewoman and she framed that relationship the right way, it¡¯d go a long way to securing her future.

    ¡°Have you heard of summoning?¡±

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 05

    How does one explain the threat of a competent summoner?

    The pirate captain wasn''t daunted by the simple warning of danger. He knew danger intimately, walked hand-in-hand with it. Threats were things to be conquered, the stones he used to build the wall of his reputation.

    As a native of Graywatch and a sailor, he also understood creatures beyond the means of mortal men. He''d survived a leviathan swallowing the ship he sailed on. Had helped evacuate the city when a storm brought in a thousand creatures of the deep with teeth tougher than steel and poisonous blood. When he was a young man, the captains were akin to gods, forces of nature with the will and whims of men. No matter how unfair or how unjust, there was nothing a runt could do but stand aside.

    Those experiences worked against him in the worst ways as Maxine tried to explain Lou. Having risen to the loftiest heights along the shore, the pirate both understood the innate fallibility of anything of flesh yet also hung onto the childish awe that believed that the leaders of men were deities, he himself a deity now that he had achieved the same heights. He neither believed that a single person could rival the threat of a sea monster nor that a single person could rival him.

    "There you go right there," Artor said as Maxine finished her explanation. He poured himself another glass of his liquor. Maxine''s didn¡¯t follow. She''d taken a small sip after it was passed to her, for appearances, but didn''t plan to consume another drop. She''d barely licked it but even that amount was enough to set her gut aflame.

    Whatever it was, it was strong and nasty. It was an exercise in control not to grimace as it lingered on her tongue. More importantly, she did not relish the idea of losing control around her current company. Sponsor or not, the man was a pirate. Not a group of people known for their upstanding morals or character.

    "This woman isn''t the threat. It''s whatever creatures she''s got tagging along with her."

    "Does it matter? A captain''s strength is his crew."

    Artor tilted his glass in acknowledgment. "True, a captain doesn''t have to be strong. But! Have you ever heard the saying that a boat is only as strong as its weakest plank?"

    "A variation."

    "I bet. The reasoning is sound. When there''s a weak link in a crew, everyone else has to cover the slack. The higher up in the chain the weakness is, the more the rest have to compensate. The worst thing for a crew is to have a big, glaring weakness that will bring them all down like there''re anchors on their waists."

    He drained his cup, breathing out strongly. Maxine was amazed he wasn''t hissing in pain, because he surely had a hole in his gut from the acid he''d just swallowed. "No matter how well you protect it, it''s going to get got eventually and everything goes straight to shit."

    "There were plenty who thought the same as you. They are currently buried beneath a city."

    Artor''s lips twisted into a grimace. Then he smiled, exposing five golden teeth. Replacements for those knocked out when he didn''t have his reputation and had to fend off drunken braggarts. "Good point. Heh. The men of Graywatch are many things but they aren''t fools. I''d have to be an idiot to ignore the bodies right in front of me. Explain this summoning thing to me, again."This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    A kernel of worry unraveled from where it wanted to take roots in Maxine''s gut.

    "I''m no master." She didn''t want to explain the strange art to him. The more mysterious summoning sounded, the more powerful and mysterious Lou was. She also didn''t know anything more than the basic principles, which she''d only learned after the debacle with the Grimoires. Her father didn''t know why the powerful family seemingly imploded overnight but he suspected it was rooted in summoning. Maxine had seen it as an opportunity to impress him, but her meagre amount of research wasn''t enough to give her any more insight and she wasn''t willing to dedicate an endless amount of time to the problem.

    "Eh, you know more than me. And right now, this hook is too sharp too swallow. There''s got to be rules to this thing, otherwise every fool and his dumb cousin would be pulling land sharks or some other nonsense out of thin air."

    "It''s not quite that easy. Not all elementals are human, but the concept of trade is the same no matter the realm. When you give, you want something of equal value in return. To my understanding, that is the one and only restraint in summoning. Powerful creatures demand a powerful price."

    "A price this Tome girl was able to pay. Says a lot ab¡ª"

    The rest of his sentence was drowned out by powerful cursing and crashing. Jack, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, straightened up, dark eyes glowing as he moved toward the door.

    It didn''t take them long to discover the source of the noise, as it came barreling into the room. Maxine couldn''t help her reaction. It was foolish to show weakness, any kind of weakness, to the men but the sight of a desperate, bloody man made her jump. She quickly settled once she internalized the man was no threat. The moment he crossed the doorway, Jack grabbed him by the collar of his torn shirt and threw him against the wall, putting an arm to his neck.

    "Ye got iron ones, kid."

    Maxine noted with some distress that he was a kid. His impressive beard did a lot to disguise his age, but the smooth skin of his face and his gangly limbs gave away the ruse. She doubted he''d seen his second decade.

    Despite his youth, it didn''t seem like poor judgment had brought him to Artor''s office. Hollow Jack''s reputation had spread far and wide along the shore. Even the hardest sailor would feel at least a little trepidation having him at their throat. Yet, the boy looked relieved of all things.

    "Boss!" he shouted, turning toward Artor. "Ye got ta do somethin''! She''s lost ''er¡ª"

    He was interrupted by several crashes, followed by muted shouting. Artor frowned as he turned toward the door. "What kind of mess did you bring to my door, runt?"

    Jack, concluding that the threat was outside the office rather than in, dropped the boy and turned toward the door. His aborted victim stumbled after suddenly regaining his feet but didn''t hesitate a moment in lurching toward Artor. Maxine shied away as the youth practically threw himself across the captain''s desk.

    "She''s lost ''er mind, captain! Swears! We¡ª"

    The rest of his explanation was drowned out by the sound of breaking wood as the office door was kicked in. Not so much as a splinter got past Jack, the air forming a wall around him with a speed that spoke of great skill.

    A nightmarish figure appeared in the shattered doorway. At a distance, the woman looked no different from the other natives of Graywatch; tanned skin from long days working under a hot sun, thick-soled boots, dark leather pants, a sleeveless off-white shirt with fraying ends, and a wide-brimmed leather hat. It took a closer look to notice the skin-crawling details. Her overly pronounced jaw, the chin wide and strong. The creases in the skin along both arms, easily ignored but hinting at startling secrets. The way her shoulders writhed, undulating sporadically.

    Maxine fought the urge to back away as every instinct she had screamed that the person before her was wrong. The woman raised a hand, pointing a finger at the frightened youth. At first, Maxine thought the red was the fabric of a glove, but the longer she stared, the more certain she was that it was the woman''s skin, pigmented by some strange means.

    "That one''s mine!"

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 06

    The young man shuddered at her words and Maxine didn''t blame him. If she were the focus of the horrid eyes, a pretty blue made surreal by their star shaped pupils, she''d tremble as well. Artor didn''t share their fear, but his expression was filled with reluctance.

    "Reynela," he sighed with all the exasperation of a tired parent.

    "Rey," she huffed. "Don''t give me any shit, ey Shrimp. That chum owes me a hundred gold."

    "You will show me respect in my own building, girl." The words weren''t spoken with anger or demand. Artor''s tone was drab but heavy with certainty. He wasn''t making a plea; he was stating a fact of the world and Rey would defy the natural order of things at her own peril.

    It would be idiotic to do anything else but obey but Maxine was surprised when the aggressive woman¡¯s shoulders relaxed, a modicum of the tension seeping from the tense room. "He owes me," she repeated, the words less of a threat and more of a petulant grumble. Given her size, the definition of her arms, and the air of violence surrounding her, Maxine hesitated to call her childish, but if she were a braver woman than she might have.

    "Then tell me what''s going on before you break down my door. You." The young man jumped as Artor''s gaze turned to him. "Speak fast and speak clearly."

    The story that erupted from the young man was a classic tale of ambition gone wrong. The dangerous woman was a whaler. And while they were normally benign individuals more concerned with the sea than the woes of men, they were dangerous.

    Thom had frantically informed Maxine that the whaling crews were the last people she wanted to piss off, unexpectedly tied with the strongest pirate captains. They routinely dealt with the biggest, strongest, and nastiest creatures the ocean had to offer. They were on a different level compared to the sailors who raided hapless villagers and fishmongers whose biggest concern was dragging up a net. It was common knowledge in the city, but some cocky pirate always tried their luck.

    The nervous young man made a deal with Rey''s crew, the only crew known to take requests. Most whalers took what the ocean gave them but from what Maxine could guess from the conversation was that Rey''s crew had a way of tracking specific sea creatures. It wasn''t foolproof, but it was an acceptable gamble. Especially when they took payment on delivery.

    The problem was that Rey had delivered the creature she promised and the young man wasn''t prepared to pay. Some part of the thing he wanted was valuable, but he didn''t know that said creature''s biology varied wildly from one individual to another. He got the fish he ordered but it turned out to be worthless. No one would want to pay for trash, but pirates didn¡¯t believe in customer satisfaction or charity. She¡¯d be surprised if the word refund was in their vocabulary.

    The crew responded in the only way pirates ever did when someone tried to renege on a deal; they¡¯d sent someone to collect his head.

    Artor sighed after Rey finished her story, cradling his bowed head with a hand. ¡°Tell me none of that is true.¡±

    Against his wishes, the young pirate did not. Some details changed; he insisted that he bartered for the valuable organ, not the whole beast. Despite his insistence that Rey was the unreasonable party and that she had broken the unspoken rules of the city by attacking him without going through his captain, the core of the problem went uncontested. He had made a deal with Rey¡¯s crew and they thought he''d reneged.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    The captain waited until the end of the young man¡¯s spiel before dismissively waving a hand. The young pirate yelped as a hand grabbed the back of his shirt. Jack ignored his pleas as he threw him into the waiting claws of the nightmarish woman. His struggles meant nothing as she hauled him out of the room, yanking him off when his hands tightly gripped the doorway.

    Maxine tried but she couldn¡¯t hold back her wince as his screams echoed throughout the building. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Going to have to be more specific, little lady,¡± the captain huffed out as he returned to his drinking.

    ¡°He¡¯s one of yours. Won¡¯t it reflect badly on you if he¡¯s killed in your building?¡±

    Jack chuckled, something she couldn¡¯t imagine doing with the shrill sounds of a painful death assaulting her ears. Artor didn¡¯t seem amused, a small addition in the positive column of his character. ¡°Politics in the Gray are complicated. Yeah, someone barging in here and making demands isn¡¯t a good look. But two things make this situation special. First being that the dead man screaming his lungs out fucked around with whalers.¡±

    ¡°Whalers are all insane,¡± Jack added with a sagely nod, as if imparting age-old wisdom.

    ¡°Crazy fuckers on and off the shore,¡± Artor followed. ¡°Common sense says avoid creatures big enough to take a bite out of your ship. Those madhats not only sail toward them, they hook and bring them home for their livelihood. No one sane could live such a life. Second.¡±

    He held up a second finger. ¡°That¡¯s Rey, the very worst whaler he could have pissed off. She¡¯s got a nasty crew behind her, a nastier family, and ever since some evil abyss spawn crawled into her ear or whatever fucking story is going around now, she¡¯s got less self-control than a young shipmonkey on his first shore leave.

    ¡°Could I stop her? Sure. Could do so while saving the boy¡¯s life. But there¡¯d be a price to pay for that. One that dumb shit isn¡¯t worth. On the other hand, if I indulge Rey¡¯s temper, it¡¯s her parents that have to pay me. I¡¯m sure you understand the math.¡±

    All too well. A powerful man weighing people¡¯s lives by how much profit they¡¯d generate was so familiar, it made her stomach cramp with an anxious pain she thought reserved for her father. She wondered if this was the end result of power. The detachment. Toying with people¡¯s lives seemed to do something to the powerful. They had to stand above it all to see the whole picture. She supposed at some point they forgot how to come back down. Or maybe they lost the desire to.

    Sitting amid worldly struggles, she couldn¡¯t deny that it wasn¡¯t pretty.

    She sat in thought and Artor drank until the screaming died down. There was a pause, the air filling with thick tension. Then the heavy clomp of stomping and the wet squelch of leather announced Rey¡¯s return to the doorway. Maxine turned her gaze when she noticed the red spatter on the woman¡¯s shirt.

    The pirate captain didn¡¯t even blink. ¡°That boy was your payment.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off! Somebody from yer crew promised me money and I want my gold!¡±

    ¡°Then go get it from his corpse. They¡¯re my shipmonkeys, not my brats. Only way you get gold out of me is if you get a deal out of my mouth. You should know better than to deal with an idiot.¡±

    The rage on the woman¡¯s face was so intense, Maxine tried to discretely scoot her chair back, as she was sure that Rey was about to come after one of the other pirates next. Surprisingly, the scary woman calmed herself with a deep breath, but the rest of the room didn¡¯t follow. Maxine silently gagged as the folds of skin on Rey¡¯s arms moved, vertical eyes with black sclera and sickly green eyes blinking slowly, following the rise and fall of her chest.

    ¡°Gah! Yer right, Uncle Shrimp.¡±

    ¡°Brat. You only know how to call me that when you¡¯re causing trouble. Don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to stop me from telling your mother. Someone¡¯s paying for my door.¡±

    ¡°Ehhh. Keep the witch out of it, Uncle. I¡¯ll pay, yeah?¡±

    It was amazing watching someone run roughshod over a man powerful enough to protect her from the many horrible elements in the city, but the merchant didn¡¯t think it was because of fear. Artor simply seemed impatient, eager to remove the problem. ¡°Fine, just get out of here. I¡¯ve got business.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Maxine froze as the whaler¡¯s gaze turned to her. ¡°Sounds interesting.¡±

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 07

    Having a woman that had just killed a man and still bore the signs of violence of her person sitting at her feet was beyond unnerving, but Maxine knew pressure well. She felt sick to her stomach, a little faint, and had to constantly suppress the urge to flee the room, but all that showed through was a tight frown. So long as she didn¡¯t look directly at Rey.

    Her upbringing told her that such a thing was rude but once again, Graywatch proved its individuality. Where a noblewoman of the capital would have been offended, the whaler didn¡¯t even taken notice, staring up at her with interest as she continued her conversation with Artor.

    ¡°My sources in the city say that a giant purple creature did the city in. Know anything specific about that?¡±

    ¡°No. The last time I saw her, she only had a thrall and an imp contracted.¡±

    ¡°The hell are those?¡± Maxine gave a short example. With every word, Artor¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°Damn it all to the sea. I can¡¯t trust anything coming from my dumb son. What is he thinking, getting close to creatures like that?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t tell you not to be cautious, but I will say that Lou has shown a reluctance in abusing the mental affinity,¡± Maxine said. She wanted the man to be cautious, not antagonistic. ¡°She went as far as to demolish a family known for abusing it. I¡¯m sure you heard of the Grimoires.¡±

    ¡°Course. That was her work, huh? Why is she an unknown then?¡±

    Maxine searched for a diplomatic way to explain the situation but quickly realized there were none. ¡°No witnesses.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yeah. Can¡¯t just show up with a whalebone and say you wrestled it single-handed.¡± The pirate captain stroked. ¡°This Tome woman sounds like trouble. Might be best to steer around her.¡±

    ¡°She sounds interesting.¡±

    Rey¡¯s first words in quite a while made Maxine jump. Against her instincts, she dared a glance in the woman¡¯s direction and was pleasantly surprised. The nightmare had retreated. Seated on the ground with her head tilted back, her arms crossed, and a big grin on her face, made inhumanly wide by her large jaw, she was hardly scary. Almost¡­charming, in a childish way. Her pure happiness brought to mind scenes of joy and innocence¡­until it was ruined by the dried blood on her shirt. It was a stark reminder that the woman taking an interest in Maxine or her acquaintances wasn¡¯t good.

    Despite the merchant¡¯s frantic mental pleas for the contrary, Rey rocked forward, focusing on her intensely. ¡°You said she employs monsters? What does she pay them?¡±

    ¡°Summoning isn¡¯t¡­¡± Maxine¡¯s rebuke trailed off. It wasn¡¯t an accurate depiction of the art, but it wasn¡¯t technically wrong. She remembered the captain¡¯s words from earlier and let the thought die. Pursuing it wasn¡¯t worth the cost. ¡°I don¡¯t know what she pays them. That is one of the secrets summoners keep, much like crews hide their maps.¡±

    ¡°Hrrrng. Makes sense. Only one thing fer it.¡± Rey snapped to her feet. ¡°Just got to see ¡®er and ask myself.¡±

    Maxine took a moment to imagine the whaler losing her temper and attacking Lou. Then she imagined her attacking one of Lou¡¯s lovers. ¡°That is a terrible idea,¡± she said immediately after rejecting the bloody scene from her mind, uncaring about her tone or how the villains in the room would handle her bluntness. None of them were the type that took well to being ordered.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The merchant counted herself lucky that Rey only puffed out her cheeks, as there was a real chance she would have attempted to cut her throat. ¡°Eh, why not? It¡¯d be good. Uncle needs some reliable information¡ª"

    ¡°You¡¯re not the one I think of when I need reliable.¡±

    ¡°¡ªand everyone¡¯s worried about their little projects in the fancy pants magic school. Ma and Pa have a few eggs there too they were getting huffy about. And you¡¯re worried about Little Shrimp too, say it or not. One net for the whole haul.¡± Her cheeks deflated as she scowled. ¡°Don¡¯t try to tell me I can¡¯t. I¡¯m doing it.¡±

    ¡°¡­I was going to say it sounds good.¡±

    Maxine tried to share the visions in her mind through her pointed gaze. The captain ignored her.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s perfect. You¡¯re going to pay me back by escorting the little lady here back to the city and checking on everybody¡¯s investments. Do it seriously, Rey. You better not cause me more trouble, cause I¡¯ll just hand it off to your parents to sort.¡±

    The big smile returned as Rey offered him a sloppy salute, her fingers bouncing off her brow before she snapped her arm down. ¡°Aye, captain!¡±

    ¡°I¡ª"

    ¡°Need to go back to Quest, yeah?¡± Artor turned to her, his stare silencing her. ¡°You¡¯ve made promises to the crews. If you¡¯re not able to keep them, nobody can save you. Not that I would. Our partnership comes with a price. I suggest you make sure you can pay it.¡±

    What would happen if she couldn¡¯t didn¡¯t need to be said. Maxine swallowed her first rebuttals and changed tact. ¡°I will need a few days to make sure my affairs in the city are handled.¡±

    He waved her off. ¡°Get it done. And don¡¯t worry about somebody screwing you while you¡¯re gone. That¡¯s what I¡¯m here for. Hollow, get her back to her rooms and then go see Tuft. I need to know about this summoning crap.¡±

    ¡°Got it, captain.¡±

    Maxine ignored Jack¡¯s offered hand and his chuckle, standing up on her own. She did wait for him to proceed her out of the door. There was no point in walking ahead of her shield for something as inconsequential as personal dislike.

    Rey tagged along with them, but Maxine was too preoccupied with coming up with ways to get rid of her to pay attention to her. She had no doubt that if she walked around with Rey, she would be connected to any trouble the whaler started. And there was no doubt the reckless woman would cause problems. The worst thing that could happen was Rey¡¯s antics isolating her from the Tome clan and there was a very real possibility of it happening.

    It was only when Rey stepped onto the carriage meant to take them back to the tavern did Maxine take notice of the strange woman. Before she could speak against her presence, the whaler slammed the door and slapped the wall, signaling the driver to go. Maxine swallowed as the woman stared at her. Her eyes found Jack¡¯s but he looked away, leaning against the wall. He¡¯d been ordered to protect her but apparently, that didn¡¯t apply to unwanted attention.

    ¡°¡­may I ask why you joined us?¡± the merchant eventually asked.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, can¡¯t let ye get away, yeah? Ye look like the skittish type.¡±

    A worrying statement but Maxine expected as much. Rather tame compared to what it could have been. Her eyes went back to the blood on the whaler¡¯s shirt, but she forced herself to look away. ¡°Do you not have preparations to make?¡±

    ¡°Eh, I¡¯ll send word to the crew. I¡¯m not good at organizing stuff so I let other people do it.¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t be leaving for some time yet.¡±

    ¡°I know that! It¡¯s good cause I¡¯ve got things to ask you.¡± Maxine¡¯s back hit the wall as Rey suddenly lurched forward, looming over her with her hands on either side of the bench. A quick glance revealed that Jack was looking at them, but he still hadn¡¯t moved. Maxine had to deal with this herself. ¡°This Tome something. Ye said she talks with monsters, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Simply put, yes.¡±

    Rey nodded sharply. ¡°Good, good. See cause, the monsters have been talking to me for a while.¡± She tapped her head with a knuckle. ¡°I spend a lot of time on the water cause they¡¯re louder there. I stand on the ship and I shout and I shout but they never hear me. Never shut up.¡± There was desperation in her tone despite her smile. It was a pitiful display. ¡°So, I¡¯m hoping yer friend can help me talk to them. Do ye think she can do that?¡±

    ¡°I¡­of all the people I know, personally and by reputation, she¡¯d be the first person I¡¯d turn to.¡±

    A sudden laugh burst out of the whaler as she threw herself onto her own bench, kicking her feet. ¡°Whoo! I¡¯m holding you to that, fancy pants! This is gonna be fun.¡±

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 08

    ¡°Hey, fancy pants.¡±

    Maxine was coming to intimately learn the effects of prolonged stress on the body. Rey, the nightmarish whaler, followed her back to the tavern she¡¯d made her temporary home and continued to hover around her, a constant stream of words with little meaning and no connection flowing from her mouth. It was all the merchant could do to listen to her without showing signs of her growing frustration. She¡¯d nearly offered a tribute to the saints when the woman left. Little did she know, her reprieve wouldn¡¯t last long.

    Somehow, she made an impression on her reluctant acquaintance. To Maxine¡¯s dismay, Rey was waiting for her when she went down for breakfast the next day and she hadn¡¯t strayed far since.

    She wasn¡¯t overtly unpleasant. The people of Graywatch had no understanding of manners or decorum but Rey treated her well; she had a tendency to demand Maxine¡¯s attention, but she was polite, or as polite as could be expected in the city, and was careful not to actually obstruct what the merchant was doing.

    She also didn¡¯t steal or break anything. No objects anyway. A few people had been broken but half of the trouble Rey got in was the whaler defending herself. She had something of a bounty on her head; no one with good sense would target her but for the stupid, she was an impressive trophy. Mix in a few grudges caused by the woman¡¯s thoughtless destruction and there were always a few willing to try their luck.

    After the first day, Maxine was relatively convinced that she was in no danger from Rey. Unfortunately, the primitive part of her brain didn¡¯t care for evidence or reason. The whaler had an unnatural air about her, a wrongness that made Maxine¡¯s skin crawl and stomach clench.

    Then there was her volatile nature. It went beyond recklessness or a bad temper. Rey seemed to lack control. She felt without reserve and she acted on those emotions without restraint.

    It didn¡¯t apply solely to anger, though she hit others with startling frequency. When she was happy, she laughed uproariously and grinned that horrific smile of hers. When she was down, she bawled her eyes out or became a sullen sack of meat that couldn¡¯t be bothered to get up from whatever part of the floor she¡¯d dropped on. If for the average person emotions existed on a spectrum between scant and extreme, Rey¡¯s went from one extreme to another.

    Maxine didn¡¯t trust Rey¡¯s self-control even the slightest bit. And no matter the favor she seemed to hold, one day, those volatile emotions would be turned on her.

    Maxine wasn¡¯t a Graywatch native. She couldn¡¯t calmly live her life with death hanging her head, or, less metaphorically, sharing dinner with her. Each day, it became a little harder to tolerate Rey¡¯s presence. Forcing herself came with consequences.

    The first thing to suffer was her sleep, her nights riddled with horrible nightmares of a thing with too many eyes staring at her from inside her head. Then came the incessant snacking that wasn¡¯t good for her waistline. The one that angered her most was the twitching. Every time Rey called out to her, she jumped. It seemed she¡¯d done it so much that her body couldn¡¯t stop, some part of her fluttering or jerking without her input every other moment.

    For five days, she¡¯d had to endure the unsettling feelings being close to the whaler evoked. She still dropped what she was doing and forced an indulgent smile to her face when Rey called out to her again, looking up from the table she¡¯d commandeered on the tavern¡¯s bottom floor. ¡°Yes?¡±

    Rey didn¡¯t look at her, her focus wholly captured by the black-and-white cat she was gently stroking, laid out on the filthy floor without a care. It wasn¡¯t a widespread belief but there was a significant number of people in the city that practically worshipped the beasts.

    Maxine didn¡¯t understand all the context behind the situation, but she understood that the city had once suffered a horrible pest problem; one that went beyond the normal nuisances that came with living in larger settlements. Where the people of the city failed to contain them, the felines had stepped in. As such, there was an abnormal amount of cats roaming the shore. The people who saw them as guardians and good luck charms made no attempts to curtail their number, some going as far as to encourage their propagation.

    It was jarring watching someone she considered closer to a monster than a person play with a cute animal but Maxine did her best to put the strange dichotomy out of her mind.

    ¡°How come yer so eager to impress this Tome girl?¡± the whaler asked as she started rubbing the cat¡¯s belly. It yowled at her but slowly relaxed into the touch.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve asked ¡®bout her plenty different ways, but ya never say anything bad about her. Can¡¯t believe there¡¯s someone out there without a single mark on their ass. So, yer probably kissing it, yeah? Yer the skippy type that jumps at every bubble in the sea but ya don¡¯t seemed scared of her, so that¡¯s not it. She paying ya? Save yer life?¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t owe Lou any compliments if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking. I suppose if I had to answer, I have nothing bad to say about Lou because there¡¯s nothing bad to say.¡±

    ¡°Ehhh.¡±

    ¡°She isn¡¯t perfect.¡± Far from. Maxine wouldn¡¯t claim to know Lou well but from what she had witnessed, the noblewoman was petty, callous, and immature. If measured against the moral bar that was the saints, she would be found severely lacking.

    Yet, Lou was no villain. She had undesirable traits, but she kept them to herself and her loved ones. If the merchant had to sum it up¡­ ¡°Lou is good to the people she¡¯s close to, to me, and cares nothing for anyone else. Someone like that may not be admirable but they¡¯re hardly a villain.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t care about others, eh? So, she smashed a city for giggles?¡± Rey giggled herself as she grabbed the cat by two legs and stood if up, softly roaring as the beast teetered on its hind legs.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­I can¡¯t imagine her doing such a thing unprovoked.¡± Though she also couldn¡¯t imagine how the situation could have gotten so bad. Harvest had managed to go several centuries without large scale conflict. The kingdom was practically founded on the concept of coexistence. Or, if one were to put it in a rude way, avoiding problems.

    The crown ignored the pirates that harassed its villages, hiding the seasonal raids under the rug of inevitable banditry. They ignored the fanatics in the north that had no respect for royal authority; her father once shared with her that they didn¡¯t even collect taxes from Victory. Everyone ignored the foreign invader that had stolen a piece of the kingdom, excusing their fear with vague ideas of tolerance and necessary evils.

    Why someone didn¡¯t think it was wise to turn a blind eye to the woman that dominated one of the strongest families in the kingdom and had a close connection to a foreign state suspected to be incredibly powerful, both in resources and military strength, was beyond her. She found it hard to believe that anyone involved had used the appropriate amount of caution, concern, or discretion.

    ¡°Better hope that stays true.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Rey snickered. Maxine hated that laugh. There was something sinister in the other woman¡¯s joy. As if she was seeing the same scene but laughing for darker reasons. ¡°There are some that aren¡¯t suited to blood, yeah? The haunted. Start hearing things and seeing faces. The ones that don¡¯t throw themselves into the sea get quick with a knife.¡±

    Maxine opened her mouth to refute the possible future, but something held the words back. When she examined it, she found the feeling rooted in memories of Kierra, specifically, the causal hints of her comfortability around death and violence.

    The elf was undoubtedly the strongest influence on Lou and she wouldn¡¯t be the one to discourage her from having a bloodthirsty attitude toward those who made themselves obstacles. The kingdom could only pray that the vicious woman didn¡¯t encourage it.

    ¡°Yer tying yerself to her crew, which I get. It¡¯s a good thing when the captain is the baddest thing on the sea. But that kind of rep comes with a cost. Taking out a whole city makes for a whole lot of grudges. If they can¡¯t get to the boss, they¡¯ll settle for the lackeys.¡±

    ¡°¡­you make a good point.¡± One Maxine had thought of already. Her strategy had many pitfalls. Retaliation barely made it onto the list. Between her last name and Lou¡¯s developing reputation, no one would dare risk direct confrontation. There was no accounting for the mad or the madly stupid, but they generally lacked the resources of what Maxine considered proper threats.

    Her biggest concern was offending one of her patrons. Before she heard the news of Quest, she would have put her concern about offending the pirate captain first but now she wasn¡¯t sure.

    ¡°Course I do. I¡¯m smarter than people think. Most shipmonkeys are idiots so all yous fancy pants landies think anyone who sleeps on the sea is stupid. But the things in the deep are crafty bastards. Got to be smart to find them. Smarter to catch them. Got to flip your head around, turn your eyes. Can¡¯t pierce the skin. Got to drag ¡®em up, hollow ¡®em out. Twist their fins so they can¡¯t walk¡­¡±

    The whaler continued to mutter to herself. When the eyes on her arms opened, Maxine slowly stood and walked over to the counter on the other side of the room. As a respectable establishment, it was too early for the bar to be open, but a man stood there, ready to serve water and juice. She met his eyes and he, moving just as slowly as she did, brought up a basket of flaky pastries from underneath the counter.

    He didn¡¯t usually kept treats around but after Rey¡¯s second outburst in as many days, they¡¯d happily complied with Maxine¡¯s request. Jack had proved himself to be something other than a nuisance for once. Rey¡¯s moods were frequent and recognizable. Artor was something of a family friend, which meant he was one of the few people who knew how to soothe the troubled mind and he¡¯d passed along the secret.

    ¡°Rey, are you hungry?¡±

    The first time Maxine had seen the things on the whaler¡¯s back shift noticeably, lifting the shoulders of her shirt but remaining invisible, she¡¯d needed to fight the urge to hurl. The worst was when Rey got excited. It brought to mind images of insects skittering beneath her skin. Now, the sight still made her sick, but she easily brushed the feeling aside.

    Eager hands accepted the basket and shoved one of the pastries into a mouth that stretched far too wide. The groan of enjoyment that escaped the woman would suggest she was eating a delicacy but the strong, fishy smell that exploded once the outer layer was pierced would dissuade anyone with a working nose from the idea. Maxine didn¡¯t know the details of Rey¡¯s transformation, but the changes to her tongue had to be the most unfortunate.

    ¡°Wen are ¡®e evin¡¯?¡± Rey asked, spitting out crumbs and chunky green paste. Maxine wondered if the owner would have to burn the floor to get rid of the stench. It would be terrible if it seeped into the wood.

    ¡°Tomorrow¡­and you have yet to pack.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Ya packed for two, didn¡¯t ya?¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 09

    Maxine didn¡¯t know how she¡¯d ended up a pirate wrangler. She did know that she didn¡¯t enjoy her new role.

    The rationale behind the unspoken designation made sense. She needed to return to Quest. Rey was tagging along with her, regardless of her opinions about it. Rey had taken a liking to her and tended to listen to her directions. When the alternative was rampant destruction and lengthy delays, Maxine had no option but to accept her new duty.

    It wasn¡¯t all bad.

    Rey was not the strongest or the meanest sailor in Graywatch. Her reputation was more of recklessness and rampant insanity than power. She wouldn¡¯t be leveling a city any time soon, but people feared her because they couldn¡¯t predict her. Someone without fear for consequences, or any fear at all, could do a lot of damage even without overwhelming strength. Rey was the special kind of mad that could walk across a room with a jovial smile until she reached her target and then put a dozen holes in them.

    Life had shown Maxine that the more people obtained, the more greedily they hoarded their possessions. Her father no longer feared an empty purse. He had too much money to spend in a lifetime. And yet, heavy rebukes came down the line for stores that showed even the slightest decline in profits. The man couldn¡¯t stand to lose so much as a copper.

    The pirate captains were the same. They¡¯d risen to the top and firmly lodged themselves above their fellows. The thought of assassins or upstarts didn¡¯t keep them up. The nameless holder of a grudge they¡¯d forgotten burning one of their ships in port did. It was a given that the perpetrator would suffer death or worse but that wouldn¡¯t bring back the expensive ship and whatever cargo it was holding. It wouldn¡¯t replace the lost income or pay for the damage a crew without work inevitably caused.

    Pointless loss. That¡¯s what powerful people feared most. That meant they feared troublemakers.

    Understandably, Artor wasn¡¯t willing to trust Rey to complete an errand and had sent several escorts. Maxine assumed they were raiders as, aside from the few merchants that traded with the city, that group were the only ones with means for traveling great distances over land. They looked the part, with plenty of leather and weapons between them.

    Yet, they treated Maxine with a rare deference. Reinholdt, the quiet man whose countenance didn¡¯t match the grand naming sense of his parents, hadn¡¯t said a word of complaint when Maxine delayed their departure to accommodate Rey. Whenever she needed anything, he jumped to it or made sure one of the lackeys beneath him did. They greeted her in the mornings and served her first during mealtimes.

    Maxine didn¡¯t grow fangs and claws overnight so she could only attribute their favor to Rey. Namely, that she kept the crazy whaler under control. It was a bribe and a threat rolled into one. They showed her how easy they could make her life but what went unsaid after every assistance was that they could also do the opposite. It was their job to rein in Rey, but if they suffered, Maxine¡¯s people wouldn¡¯t escape without consequences.

    The content of which the merchant hoped to never learn. Her role wasn¡¯t taxing except for mentally. She particularly hated the whaler¡¯s unnerving tendency to intrude on her privacy. Rey jumped into Maxine¡¯s carriage to chat whenever she wanted. She invited herself to eat from Maxine¡¯s bowl.

    Generally, she was a nuisance but not an unbearable one. She was also easily distracted by her disgusting treats, so it wasn¡¯t impossible for Maxine to steal a few moments of peace.

    Though her ploys didn¡¯t always work.

    A week into their journey, they stopped early to detour toward a spring. Aside from the essential need to refresh their water stores, it offered a rare chance to wash up. The sailors and raiders didn¡¯t care much for the small luxury, so Maxine didn¡¯t need to be conservative with her time. Steaming hot water would have been a blessing for her aching muscles, but with soap in one hand, a soft cloth in the other, and only the sounds of a peaceful evening around her, Maxine was the most relaxed she¡¯d been since leaving Quest.

    Until something in the water broke the surface in a great burst, spraying her with the cool water.

    The merchant was too dumbfounded to utter a proper scream, a scratchy squeak soft as a whisper barely escaping her tight throat. The paralyzing shock gave way to fear, which was then swat aside by exasperation, only for the fear to come back with a vengeance, grabbing hold of her with cold hands.

    At first, Maxine relaxed when she recognized the shape as Rey and not a horrible creature that would drag her beneath the water before devouring her. However, once she really processed what she was seeing, she wondered if the monster was the better option.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Tan skin broken up by patches of strange colors and textures; some parts covered by small, iridescent scales that gleamed despite the weak light while others were covered in smooth, shiny skin that reminded the merchant of the soft lizards that hung around small ponds and water sources.

    On the back of the whaler¡¯s thighs were long, milky white things. They reminded Maxine of ribbons, both for their thinness and the fluttering way they move through the air, as if guided by a private breeze. Or perhaps the tongue of a snake as it tasted the air. And the most striking oddities by far were on her shoulders. Pincers that belonged on insects and nowhere else, black as night. A pair on either side, each as long as a dagger and twitching occasionally, the small movements reminding Maxine of someone thoughtlessly tapping a table when preoccupied.

    Combined with her unnaturally wide smile, Rey resembled something that children feared was hiding under their beds.

    Maxine thought she was immune to the whaler¡¯s strangeness but with the whole of it suddenly thrust before her sensibilities, she found herself floundering. She bowed her head, unable to stand looking at the strange creature masquerading as a woman a moment longer, and focused on her breathing. Each long exhale pushed against the swell of unease that threatened to make her do something stupid, like attacking Rey in a hysterical fit.

    ¡°No fancy pants now, heh.¡±

    Maxine had to try three times before her voice started working. ¡°I would have appreciated it if you told me you¡¯d be accompanying me.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I was first. Ya should have checked with me. Less ya wanted to see me, pervert.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Yes, that was my fault. I didn¡¯t mean to intrude.¡± Never mind that Rey hadn¡¯t spoken a word when the group discussed bathing.

    Rey¡¯s sigh was so long and heavy, Maxine couldn¡¯t help looking up. She was relieved to see that the other woman had sank into the water, only her head breaking the surface. Maxine couldn¡¯t read the whaler¡¯s expression well with her head bowed, but her voice was thick with emotion.

    ¡°Why would ya? I¡¯m a freak.¡±

    Manners said she should deny the statement, reassure her that she was charming in her own ways or at least that she had her own strengths. Lying was fine, so long as she lied well.

    The problem was that Maxine had no confidence that she could say the words with a straight face. Aside from being a disjointed picture of a human being, Rey was also a pain in personality. Her only redeeming quality was that she could show a scant amount of restraint when it was in her interest. And perhaps a similarly scant amount of consideration for those she bothered to consider.

    ¡°I used to be popular. ¡®Till¡­¡± The rest of her speech was garbled as she lowered her head, small bubbles appearing in the water. She raised her head just as quickly, blue eyes narrowing as she moved closer to Maxine. ¡°I bet yer popular.¡±

    Maxine froze as Rey¡¯s scarlet hand rose, a long finger tracing her cheek. ¡°Such pretty skin. I bet people like ya. They¡¯d like ya too.¡± Maxine jumped as the hand trailed down her neck before jabbing her in the chest. ¡°They¡¯d chew a hole right through here, yeah. Take your heart out of your body before worming through your stomach. They¡¯d take the shape of your guts as they swallowed them. Then the little ones would make nests of your organs¡ª"

    The merchant teetered between panic and enforced calm. She didn¡¯t like the look in Rey¡¯s eyes. She knew it, had seen it right before the madwoman did something reckless. Worse, she was muttering, a sure sign of a depressive mood.

    When Maxine usually saw the signs, she distanced herself from Rey¡¯s target or, if the target was too precious, distracted her. But now she was the target and there were no distractions available. She didn¡¯t even think of running. Her pampered physique honed for mingling in the capital couldn¡¯t compare to the dense, wiry muscle of a sailor that fought monsters for a living.

    Death had surprised her and there was no escaping from it. An outrageous situation that explained the outrageous words that slipped out as the gloomy gaze met her own.

    ¡°You¡¯re beautiful.¡±

    Maxine didn¡¯t know who was more surprised. Her shock felt as tall as the Bleak Peaks, but Rey looked as if the words had physically struck her. Then she looked angry, her thin brows not taking away from the expression in the slightest as her face creased and her lips curled.

    ¡°Yer makin¡¯ fun of me,¡± she growled.

    The merchant didn¡¯t know what prompted her to make such a ridiculous statement, but she knew what opened her mouth next; the certain knowledge that if she didn¡¯t soothe Rey soon, regardless of the consequences, Maxine would personally experience the woman¡¯s explosive temper. There was also no way to take back her words without insulting the whaler further.

    There was no way but forward.

    ¡°Art is not always perfection,¡± Maxine hurriedly said. ¡°The masters are known for creating things of beauty, but geniuses are known for challenging the definition of beauty. Sometimes, those images¡­offend, but they are a stark reminder of realities we would like to forget. They are raw. Powerful. Attractive, in their own way.¡± She hesitated but forced the next words out of her mouth. ¡°The strange can be intense but intense doesn¡¯t have to mean unpleasant. You¡­aren¡¯t unpleasant.¡±

    For several moments, Rey stared at her quietly.

    Then she suddenly stood up. Maxine¡¯s eyes squeezed shut, heart pounding to the rhythm of a horse¡¯s gallop as she prepared herself to be mauled. But the pain didn¡¯t come.

    She opened her eyes to see the whaler had fled the water and was sprinting from the river without a care that she was running into the camp without a stitch of clothing. Maxine hastily escaped to the bank, eyes scanning the water for the threat.

    Several moments later, Maxine still hadn¡¯t found anything that could explain the whaler¡¯s hasty retreat. Deciding not to risk it, she quickly finished washing up and returned before the unexpected blessing became a tragedy.

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 10

    Rey was acting strange.

    Namely, Maxine hadn¡¯t seen much of the whaler, which was incredibly strange. From the moment they were introduced, Rey was underfoot. The whaler would breathe the same air if it were possible.

    Going from that extreme to the opposite caused great trepidation in the merchant¡¯s chest. Something was wrong. Something she was in no rush to discover. Whatever mood had taken over the whaler, the consequence was a smooth journey and no one was in a rush to risk that.

    However, the peace couldn¡¯t last. Maxine was staring out of the window of her carriage with a hollow interest when rushing winds disturbed the steady rhythm that had been luring her into a light doze. She didn¡¯t need to look over to know it was Rey, nor did she question why the whaler decided to hop aboard while they were moving instead of waiting for one of their many routine breaks. Maxine put off the confrontation for as long as she could but the heavy stare on her person soon became too uncomfortable to ignore. She raised her head and met the blue eyes watching her intently.

    With the whaler before her, Maxine could confirm there was something wrong with her. Rey was too quiet. If Maxine had to guess, she would say that the other woman was nervous; she looked away once their eyes met and her shoulders were squirming more intensely than usual. At the beginning of their acquaintance, the sight would have turned Maxine¡¯s stomach. It still filled her guts with squirming nerves, but the merchant found that she was growing accustomed to Rey¡¯s strangeness. The whaler¡¯s countenance would never be appealing but Maxine hoped that if they were forced to work together in the future, there would come a day when it no longer bothered her.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she greeted when Rey was quiet for too long.

    The whaler jumped and still refused to meet her eyes. Maxine was wondering if they would go the whole ride in silence when Rey finally piped up, almost shouting.

    ¡°I learned to swim ¡®fore I could walk!¡±

    ¡°¡­I see.¡± Maxine wondered if she was meant to offer congratulations.

    ¡°I guess ya know ¡®bout my family.¡±

    ¡°Not in detail.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Rey¡¯s scarlet hand scratched at her neck. ¡°Um, I¡¯m an Aguari. Never had to explain this before.¡± Maxine felt a wave of sympathy for someone else with a complicated family. ¡°Make it simple, we¡¯re the only kind of a religious outfit in the Gray. Saints never done nothin¡¯ fer a sailor, so we send our prayers somewhere that is just as useless but much closer. Bunch of silly rituals and stuff, most of the time.¡±

    ¡°Most of the time?¡± The whaler wasn¡¯t a very good storyteller, but Maxine hung on her every word. She knew of the Aguari family, as she researched all the powerful factions of the city in search of a sponsor. They were quickly disregarded because there wasn¡¯t much an outsider could find out about the mysterious family. More surprisingly, it was just as hard to find out about them from within the city.

    The Aguari was a dealbreaker for all three of the hands she¡¯d hired; the siblings outright said that they couldn¡¯t do a damn thing against them and Thom refused to even have a conversation about anything related to the family. She was very interested in learning more about the clan and wasn¡¯t expecting such a precious thing to fall into her lap.

    ¡°Yeah. Way back when Graywatch was a true hellhole, the rituals got dark. Most of what we do now is watered down copies. Like communion. We pray in the water, yeah? So, the kiddies get put in little pools, even the babes. Mams hold onto them usually, but they say ah squirmed right of mine¡¯s arms and started swimming. Like ah was born to it.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Maxine made a thoughtful sound, crossing her legs and leaning forward. It would be bad if she demanded more but she wordlessly urged the whaler to continue.

    ¡°Always been that way with me and water. Even the magic. The damn spells confuse me but I¡¯m the best at fighting underwater. It¡¯s what ah was known fer before¡­¡®for ah was known fer being intense.¡±

    Her lips curled into a small smile, but for her wide jaw, it was an average size. Almost pleasant. ¡°Ah was the only sailor crazy enough to jump into the water to catch the beasties ¡®stead of using a net. Got plenty of idiots killed trying to copy me, heh.¡± Rey cleared her throat. ¡°So, uh, yeah. That¡¯s me.¡±

    ¡°It sounds incredible.¡± Etiquette demanded she show the appropriate amount of interest in Rey¡¯s accomplishments, which wasn¡¯t hard as fighting sea monsters directly was both as impressive as it was insane, but she was eager to get the conversation back to her family. ¡°Are you a priestess of this religion?¡±

    Maxine didn¡¯t care for religion. In the Guiness family, wealth was the only higher power. However, she¡¯d been educated on the power of faith, as there were many groups in the kingdom whose beliefs affected their attitudes when it came to trade.

    ¡°Hah! No way. Mam tried to have me trained for it, but ah don¡¯t have a pair big enough.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry? What does your size have to do with it?¡±

    Rey watched Maxine¡¯s eyes drift to her chest and then the strangest thing happened. The whaler¡¯s skin was tanned but her blush was still visible through her nearly golden complexion, though it was faint.

    ¡°Not that, ah¡¯d¡ªer. Ah mean, yeah. Not that. The Pearls are crazy. The things at the bottom of the sea are dark and twisted, so the things they do to worship them are twisted.¡±

    ¡°¡­are they responsible for your peculiarities?¡±

    Rey scoffed. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t do that, but they aren¡¯t unhappy about it. A lot happier than ah am.¡± The last part was grumbled but clearly audible. The woman was incapable of being quiet. She coughed. ¡°They usually just paint themselves with the blood of the deep. Creepy, but kittens next to trench witches. Those crazy bitches do the nasty stuff that ruins it fer everyone else. But ah don¡¯t want to talk ¡®bout that!¡±

    Maxine sighed inwardly. ¡°What do you want to talk about?¡±

    ¡°You.¡±

    ¡°Um.¡±

    Rey leaned forward. ¡°That¡¯s how it works, right? We tell each other stuff about each other.¡±

    Maxine stopped herself from asking what it was and why Rey was trying to make it work. She had a feeling the answer would distress her. ¡°Is there something you want you to know?¡±

    ¡°Um, like what kind of things do ya like? Other than money. Er, not that there¡¯s anything wrong with that.¡±

    The whaler¡¯s clear inexperience at speaking with consideration was almost enough to make Maxine laugh. Almost. The fear of what would happen if Rey took offense smothered her humor.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have many interests.¡± The only thing she¡¯d ever dedicated herself to was earning her father¡¯s approval. ¡°I suppose I enjoy music.¡±

    As a girl, she was dragged to all kinds of events, first by her mother, eager for her to stand out from her siblings, and then by her father, when she would be useful. Later, she was too focused to enjoy them, but when she was too small to have proper ambition, she¡¯d enjoyed concerts the most. During any kind of theatre, the boring talking lasted a short time before the crowd was enthralled by the show, and music was much easier to enjoy than complicated plots.

    ¡°Oh! I can play an instrument!¡±

    ¡°You can?¡± the merchant blurted out, disbelief taking control of her mouth. Her mind that associated musical talent with ladies of the capital couldn¡¯t see the ruffian honing such a skill.

    ¡°Yeah. Ah¡¯m a boss with a pair of spoons.¡±

    She couldn¡¯t help it. A laugh burst out of her, more of a snort than the polite chuckle she¡¯d been drilled to use. Her gaze rapidly flicked back to the source of her apprehension but there was no trace of anger in Rey¡¯s expression. She was smiling, wider than before. That of course meant her face was incredibly unsettling.

    ¡°Did it require instruction?¡± Maxine hurried to ask, willing to extend the bizarre interaction if it would remove the horrible visage. Unfortunately, Rey seemed just as eager to continue their talk. After Maxine tried and failed to end the conversation organically half a dozen times, she gave up and accepted the whaler¡¯s company in her carriage.

 Miniarc-Bad Tidings 11

    Days away from Quest, Rey surprised Maxine once more. Expectedly, not in a good way.

    There weren¡¯t many places to find comfort while traveling. As a Guiness, Maxine¡¯s carriage was far more luxurious than most, but custom cushions and a higher roof could only make a wooden box so comfortable.

    It was far better than what her entourage had to endure. Curling up on the carriage¡¯s floor or sleeping sitting up made her long for a proper bed, but she didn¡¯t think she could endure sleeping in the dirt like an animal. The driver¡¯s bench of the carriage wasn¡¯t much better, exposed to the elements. It was a wonder they got any sleep at all.

    With hindsight, Maxine realized her current situation was bound to happen and she should have taken action to avoid it. That was the root of her troubles, her inability to act. It annoyed her to realize that a singular act of independence hadn¡¯t cured her of her weakness. She¡¯d fallen into her habit of pleasing the strong personality around her and, once again, was dancing to another¡¯s whim without a benefit in sight.

    Rey didn¡¯t ask to sleep in her carriage. She simply showed up, blanket in hand, and settled herself on the opposite bench, her body so tightly curled up the merchant found it hard to believe that it wasn¡¯t painful. Maxine had at least managed to put her foot down by insisting the whaler keep clean, at least wiping herself down with a rag at the end of the day. Surprisingly, Rey had taken the instruction without complaint.

    She also wasn¡¯t much of a bother, quickly settling down at night, the opposite of her endless questions during the day. It felt like a much minor intrusion than it was and it did have an upside. As a young woman, travel was more dangerous for Maxine than most. She trusted the knights employed by her family and the fear inspired by both her last name and the protection of her sponsor, but Rey offered another layer of protection.

    The whaler was no royal knight, but she knew her way around a fight. If anything came near the carriage intending to do either one of them harm, Maxine had no doubt Rey would tackle and do unspeakable things to it.

    Strangely, despite Maxine fearing the woman, Rey made her feel safe.

    So, she let share her carriage, drawing on every ounce of empathy she could manage. A part of her knew it would be a problem; it was only a matter of time before her calming influence over the whaler waned, if for no other reason than she was unable to keep up her act. When Maxine imagined that moment, she saw splintering wood and blood. Wondered who would win between the madwoman and the professional fighters who rarely saw true combat.

    She vaguely planned out what she would do if her entourage succumbed to the pirates. Artor¡¯s lackeys would likely do everything they could to calm Rey and protect her but there was always the chance that they took advantage of the situation. Or that Rey killed them too. The thought of having to flee in the middle of the night haunted her dreams. She¡¯d gone as far to stuff a sack with a change of clothes, rations, and water just in case; saints¡¯ blessing, she would never have to use it.

    She¡¯d imagined a dozen emergencies, each one more outlandish and less likely, though no less terrifying for their unfeasibility, than the last. Yet she could have never imagined a scene where she woke to the feeling of fingertips gently stroking her cheek to find Rey staring at her with¡­gentleness.

    Her brain stalled. It couldn¡¯t process the whole of the situation so it decided to focus on something small; how it was that she could see the other woman at an hour where the darkness was thick enough to swallow her own hand if she held it in front of her face. The answer was the full moon outside and the slightly open shutters that let in the silver glow.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    The soft light wasn¡¯t enough to erase the gloom entirely. Maxine couldn¡¯t fully make out parts of Rey; she was more of a silhouette than a person. With the rest of her hidden, her blue eyes and the star-shaped pupils stood out sharply, almost glowing. As Maxine watched, the pupils changed, twisting and squirming until widening enough to nearly swallow the color of her irises. It was like the Abyss had taken the guise of a woman and was preparing to swallow her too.

    No. Her eyes weren¡¯t getting bigger. Rey was getting closer.

    The whaler had never respected her space. Maxine was so used to her constant intrusions, she didn¡¯t think about it. Accepted it, on some level. Even the unusual moment wasn¡¯t enough to make her worry, Rey having pulled bigger stunts before. Completely relaxed, she couldn¡¯t have responded even if she knew it was coming.

    Suddenly, there was no space between them anymore. The fingertip on her cheek became a soft palm and a warmth covered her lips.

    Maxine froze. It wasn¡¯t her first kiss. Nor was it the worst of them, though it was certainly different. Their lips didn¡¯t press together so much as her mouth was practically swallowed by a gaping maw. It was warm, a stark contrast to the cold night, and far too wet. It felt like Rey was practically drooling on her. She didn¡¯t think anything could be as bad as a partner with severely chapped lips that felt like they could cut her if she wasn¡¯t careful, but Rey proved her wrong.

    That thought was the worst part. The fact that made her brain seize with shock and horror. Rey, the woman plagued by abominations, was kissing her.

    Before she could wrap her mind around that terrible thought, a breathy moan touched her ears and she had to contend with a new sensation. Intellectually, she knew that Rey had deepened the kiss, pushing past her lips. Yet the thing exploring her mouth didn¡¯t feel like a tongue.

    It felt like another creature, lined with ridges and something akin to spines. The kiss was a jumbled bag of feelings that didn¡¯t fit what Maxine knew a kiss to be. It didn¡¯t feel bad, but the unfamiliar feelings stoked a rising panic, one that swiftly surmounted her shock.

    Too long later, Maxine gathered herself and pushed Rey back by her chest. Again, Rey followed her unspoken command easily. Maxine couldn¡¯t make out the other woman¡¯s expression properly, but her slightly quick breaths and the tension in her body gave away her desire.

    With the mental force of a rock hitting her head, Maxine saw their actions in another light. All the awkward conversations, the rare consideration, the constant need to be around her. If it were anyone else, she would have easily recognized the clumsy flirting, or at least acknowledged the interest. At some point, she had stopped thinking of Rey as a person and more of a force of nature that needed to be controlled.

    That force of nature was showing very person-like desires, desires directed at her.

    Maxine was starting to wonder about her composure. She used to think that she had a firm mind, but it seemed that when she was put under pressure, real pressure, she ended up doing very stupid things. Like antagonizing Lou, the person she intended to stake her future on. Or spouting lies that dug her hole deeper.

    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± she blurted out.

    ¡°Why not?¡± Rey¡¯s voice was low, barely reconcilable with her normal tone. It sounded like something in her chest rumbled with each word; gave each syllable power. ¡°Not that different from how you do it with a guy, heh.¡±

    Maxine knew she needed to be brave. To be open and honest about her feelings, or lack thereof. She knew furthering the charade would only lead to more trouble in the future, as her inaction of the past had led to this moment.

    The memory of side-stepping the leg of a chair that broke off as Rey beat a man in the tavern came to mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m in love with someone else,¡± the merchant blurted, inwardly cursing herself.

    She barely held back her cringe as the blue eyes narrowed in anger. ¡°But you¡ª" She trailed off into noise of frustration that transformed from a hiss into a strange warble. ¡°Who?! No, I know. Seas take it, it¡¯s fucking obvious. Ya talk about ¡®er enough.¡±

    The carriage door slammed open, undoubtedly waking her entourage arranged around them, as Rey disappeared into the night.

    Maxine stared at the empty space across from her, remembering the strange kiss. Then she buried her face in her hands and let out a muffled scream.

    What in the name of the saints had she done?

 Miniarc-Villains-01

    ¡°Good morning, your highness!¡±

    Samuel kor Harvest paused with one leg extended from the doorway of his carriage as he stared at the irksome woman that had made it her mission to find new ways to annoy him. Orphelia smiled at him, but there was nothing joyous in the expression. There was nothing at all behind those hazel eyes.

    If the prince had to describe the woman in one word, it would be unnerving. On the surface, pleasant. Pretty, in a common way, though not very feminine with her short dark hair and practical way of dressing. She had a way about herself that easily blended into the background if she wanted. Samuel hated that. He preferred it when he knew where she was and what she was doing.

    There were many thing about the young woman that unnerved him, but the biggest problem he had about her was the mystery she represented. She was unreadable; anything she showed him didn¡¯t quite read as true and he didn¡¯t trust a word that came out of her mouth. Weeks of traveling together and he still didn¡¯t know why she was accompanying him. Was there a greater purpose or simple coincidence? What did she want? What was he missing? He always felt like he was missing something with her.

    Then there was the fact that he had no idea how to interact with her. How to treat her, specifically. Samuel wasn¡¯t socially illiterate. He could charm, he could trade wit, he could command with comfort. The problem was he didn¡¯t know which approach to take. None of them worked. She ignored him if he tried to command her like a servant. If he tried charm, she got snarky. Saints forbid he tried to be witty in return; the woman had a dagger for a tongue and all the wounds it inflicted was laced with especially potent scorn.

    The crazy woman seemed to have no concern for consequences. No direction either. Everything she did felt spontaneous, a desperate action to grab onto something, anything, before the moment passed. That desperation unnerved the prince as well. It made him feel like something awful was waiting around the corner whenever she was near him.

    If he had the choice, he¡¯d want nothing to do with her.

    It was sad how little choice a prince had.

    ¡°When will you tire of these games?¡± he groused as he finished stepping down. She stepped aside, following behind him as he headed for the center of the camp. At the beginning of the journey, Samuel would demand breakfast when he woke, whatever hour he woke. No matter the hour, warm food would appear swiftly. It wasn¡¯t until he overheard a few unflattering whispers that he understood how much trouble he was putting them through.

    It was one thing to make the men compromise for his comfort. It was another thing to make trained, accomplished fighters wait on him hand and foot. They were swords meant to cut down his enemies and shields that would jump in the way of lethal blows. Not maids. Orphelia wore her usual thin smile as she jokingly wondered what soldiers trained to survive the wild on their own would think of a prince that couldn¡¯t even feed himself.

    Before, Samuel would proudly declare that he didn¡¯t give a damn about their opinions. What did a prince care for the opinions of commoners? He didn¡¯t need to get along with them because he didn¡¯t intend to mingle with their kind.

    His recent lack of direction in his life had weakened his stance. Samuel had no dreams of martial glory like his elder brother. He had no idea what he wanted but wherever he ended up, having a reputation as a spoiled prince wouldn¡¯t do him any favors. His younger brother, Bastian, was proof enough of that.

    ¡°If you stop giving me such amusing reactions, I¡¯ll stop.¡± She laughed but there was no humor in it. ¡°Is it so unusual for a woman to seek out your company?¡±

    ¡°For a woman to stand outside my door every morning? Yes.¡± Such an unsavory person would be thrown out of the palace and barred from ever entering if they weren¡¯t thrown into the dungeon. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you need something?¡±

    ¡°Only entertainment.¡±

    Samuel grimaced and ignored her, turning his attention to his empty stomach. No one else was near the cooking fire but they left a small log for seating, a bowl resting atop it. A black pot sat on a pile of dying embers, a small pile of firewood sitting beside it. The prince¡¯s expression didn¡¯t improve when he lifted the pot¡¯s lid, palming the wooden spoon sitting atop it, and found a thin gruel waiting for him.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    He could only blame himself for the poor fare. His allowance allowed him to purchase plenty of fresh fruit and preserves for the journey. If they had kept to the tight schedule his escorts originally devised, they might have lasted the whole journey. Samuel was the one who insisted on extra breaks and early stops. Times that he spent lounging and snacking for lack of anything else to do.

    Before he knew it, the good food was gone, and he had to partake in the same basic fare as the rest of the convoy. Basic by his standards was not objectively bad, leagues beyond what the average family could afford, but the tasteless meals were abhorrent to the prince¡¯s pampered tongue. Orphelia once told him he looked like a grumpy child whenever he sat down to eat. Sameul successfully deluded himself into thinking he didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to offer me anything?¡± Orphelia said from behind him. It would be a tight fit on the log for two average-sized individuals. Samuel¡¯s long limbs didn¡¯t leave much room and he didn¡¯t plan on correcting the situation.

    ¡°Get your own.¡±

    ¡°Cold, your highness.¡±

    Samuel sighed as he stirred his breakfast. ¡°Since you want to stay, you can answer a question.¡± The same question she always avoided. ¡°Why are you returning to the city?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a funny thing to ask when we¡¯re returning for the same reason.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need teaching. You were a minder. That means you¡¯re capable enough.¡±

    ¡°There is always room for improvement.¡±

    The prince resisted the urge to rub his brow. ¡°Can you be serious for one moment?¡±

    ¡°Is that an order?¡±

    ¡°Would it make a difference if it was?¡±

    ¡°You never know until you try.¡±

    ¡°Fine. It¡¯s an order. Tell me why you¡¯re accompanying me.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I was ordered to.¡±

    ¡°But why? There¡¯s nothing for you there.¡±

    ¡°Oh, there is plenty.¡±

    Samuel huffed in disbelief and decided to take a more direct approach. ¡°The first day, you asked me a lot of questions about Lourianne Tome. Does it have something to do with her?¡±

    ¡°That is one of the, hm, developments I intend to monitor.¡±

    ¡°Monitor? What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Nothing for your privileged head to be concerned with.¡±

    He growled and gave up on the conversation. Samuel was quite interested in the woman¡¯s fate. She was a source of many woes. In hindsight, he understood the situation was of his own making, though he hadn¡¯t been in his right mind. It didn¡¯t change the fact that the pervert and her long-eared partner had delighted in tormenting him. Men had died for half of the offenses they¡¯d committed against him, a royal personage. Only the rules of the Hall, that stated that he surrendered any societal standing so long as he was a student, and his father¡¯s reluctance to alienate the strongest healer in the kingdom, a woman that was rumored to possess the ability to resurrect the dead, protected them.

    A mature part of him realized that he needed the experience. It sobered his reckless passion, making room for good sense. However, perspective couldn¡¯t silence a petty voice that seethed with rage over his humiliation and wanted payback.

    ¡°That woman isn¡¯t a threat, she¡¯s a menace.¡±

    ¡°A capable menace. She was the one who discovered the plot against you.¡±

    Samuel sneered at the reminder. It rankled that he owed his life to the pervert. Whatever gratitude he should have felt was drown in the pool of disdain and jealously where his memories of her resided. ¡°Show me the evidence.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to believe me. Tsk tsk. A woman saves your life and all you can do is badmouth her. I¡¯d expect better manners of a royal.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d expect anyone that knows that woman not to speak so highly of her.¡±

    ¡°Just practicing.¡±

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°Hm. What if I said for the day we all have to grovel at her feet?¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯ve missed your calling. With humor like yours, you could have reinvigorated the tradition of keeping a jester in the palace.¡±

    Orphelia laughed. ¡°You¡¯re right, that was a joke. A poor one. Lou wouldn¡¯t want anything to do with ruling a nation.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª¡±

    ¡°Highness!¡±

    Samuel swallowed his retort as a soldier ran up to him. The man¡¯s eyes flicked to the pot before meeting the prince¡¯s gaze. ¡°When you¡¯ve finished your meal, Sir Reed would like to speak with you.¡±

    ¡°What about?¡±

    The soldier hesitated, but quickly caved under Samuel¡¯s stare. ¡°He wants to amend the schedule.¡±

    Samuel frowned. They were already far behind schedule. The delays were his own fault but that didn¡¯t mean he was happy to suffer any more. ¡°What kind of changes? And why?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, sir, er, highness. You¡¯d have to ask Sir Reed.¡±

    It sounded like a subordinate kicking an annoying situation to his superior. Samuel dismissed him anyway. He¡¯d get a more complete picture from the head of the convoy anyway.

    ¡°Well. Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s something exciting. The journey has been rather dull.¡±

    ¡°Quiet,¡± Samuel snapped as he poured the warm gruel into his bowl. He pushed the taste to the edge of his mind as he shoveled the food down, worry and curiosity pushing him to finish so he could investigate.

 Miniarc-Villains-02

    There were two ways to become a knight, the most common method of joining a knight order or receiving the title for the crown. Any higher noble, those above the middling rank of viscount, could establish an order. The nobles funded the order, providing equipment and training for its members. In return, the knights served the family; sometimes, they were a private security force while other times their duties carried to every corner of their lord¡¯s territory.

    A lesser known caveat of the arrangement was that the noble also chose the doctrine that the knights followed. They weren¡¯t always about honor and chivalry. They represented the house behind them; they wore the family¡¯s colors and wielded its authority more often than they did their swords. A noble¡¯s reputation was their livelihood, and that reputation was directly tied to the actions of the men and women they employed. They wanted those men and women to embody their values.

    A knight never did anything suspect in public. However, out of their uniforms, their lives were their own. All it took for them to be considered for the job was enough ability to dissuade the commonest of criminals from causing trouble. Rarely did they face true threats.

    The royal knights were exceptions.

    The Royal Order of Harvest Knights was a throwback to the days when the title sir meant more than the ability to kill something. There was only one way to join their ranks, excellence. It wasn¡¯t enough to be competent; a potential recruit needed both natural talent and the drive to take it to incredible heights.

    Most royal knights were chosen from the army; the exceptions were children of previous members who trained from the moment they could hold child-sized training weapons. No soldier with less than ten years of service was considered, nor was any officer that had led less than seven successful campaigns. Long service demonstrated loyalty to the crown or at least the willingness to commit to duty.

    They had to be talented fighters, both magically and martially. The character was also scrutinized. Royal knights lived on the palace grounds. They had regular interactions with the royal family. There could be no doubt about their suitably, no flaws in their reputation that could reflect poorly on the crown. Being convicted of a crime took any hopefuls out of the running. An official reprimand was a crippling disadvantage. A royal knight had to be beyond reproach.

    The best and the brightest would be given the opportunity to attempt to them. Their final hurdle was their would-be peers. The knights would test the hopefuls, under the direction of their knight-captain. If he found them wanting, they were gone. Not even the king would go against his word.

    It was a difficult journey, but the position came with considerable perks, the most subtle being close proximity to the crown. The knights became friends with the heirs. One day, those children who looked up to them would sit on the throne and marry into powerful families. The ability to whisper a word in their ears was priceless.

    Their accommodations were comfortable and their access unrivaled. They had standing invitations to every ball and feast. They received a generous salary and their marriage prospects were excellent. Every royal knight had the means to establish a flourishing house whenever they chose to retire.

    For their journey, for their means, for what they had the potential to become, the royal knights were universally respected. Samuel was no exception. The second prince didn¡¯t like soldiers in general, but he gave those that protected his bloodline their due. Even the commoners among them.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Good morning, Sir Reed.¡±

    After finishing his lackluster meal, Samuel wasted no time seeking out the head of his escort. Three royal knights were tasked with seeing him safely across the kingdom, but Ewan Reed was in charge.

    Pushing thirty, Ewan was one of the younger knights. He didn¡¯t make for a heroic figure out of his armor; he was on the shorter side with plain features, a weak chin, and short dark hair cut close to his head. A long scar on his cheek gave his face its only character, drawing attention to his light brown eyes.

    Samuel knew the man¡¯s story well, as his father had bragged about him the first time Ewan was assigned to him. Anywhere else, Ewan would be considered a rare talent with two basic affinities, earth and water, but he was average amongst the royal knights. What distinguished him was his hard work.

    He''d joined the army at the tender age of fifteen to support his widowed mother. As soon as his ten years were done, he received a ridiculous seven recommendations to the knights; every superior that knew him long enough to know his name spoke up for him. He had a reputation for being good-natured, goal-oriented, and dependable. He had talent but he never stopped trying to improve himself.

    His drive wasn¡¯t limited to his strength. He worked to improve himself in all areas. Instead of using his gold on luxuries, he paid for tutors. Between studying law and literature, he learned which fork went on what side of a plate and footwork that had nothing to do with fighting. There were rumors that he did poetry readings and dabbled in music. And somehow, while juggling all that, he found time to do good work for the unfortunates of the capital.

    Nominating people for sainthood had fallen out of favor, but if it were still a practice, Ewan was the kind of man that would make a perfect candidate.

    Samuel imagined that his father paired the two of them together with hopes that Ewan¡¯s relatively close age would allow them to grow close and the knights good qualities would rub off on him. A fanciful notion. How could a prince that had been handed everything in life relate to a man that worked hard for every bite of food that passed his lips? How could a man absorbed in his own problems relate to someone beloved by the masses? It was impossible.

    Ewan never faulted him for it. The prince liked to think they got on well, navigating the strange dynamic of a servant more powerful than his master with finesse.

    ¡°Your highness.¡± The knight was talking with a group of soldiers, but he dismissed them once Samuel spoke up. He bowed at the waist, his impeccable form showing his dedication to his studies. ¡°Thank you for coming so quickly. The matter is of some urgency.¡±

    ¡°It better be. I can¡¯t afford another delay.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t impose on your time without good reason. The scouts have returned with worrying information. The wall is damaged. I would like to do reconnaissance before proceeding.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re stalling us because the stone is chipped?¡±

    ¡°No, my prince. I¡¯m saying we should use caution because a section of the wall was destroyed and we have no idea what did it. I don¡¯t want you in the city if there are active dissidents and madmen about.¡±

    Samuel¡¯s thoughts raced. Ewan¡¯s words weren¡¯t without merit; walking into a conflict blind was stupid. It likely had nothing to do with him, but a prince always had a target on his back.

    On the other hand, the Hall wouldn¡¯t care about his circumstances. If he didn¡¯t sign up for any classes before the new semester started, he¡¯d simply be out of luck. Worse, the gap in schooling would reflect poorly on him and hurt his chances of getting into good classes the following year would be tarnished.

    However, classes meant nothing to a dead man.

    Samuel sighed. ¡°How long will it take?¡±

    ¡°If they ride hard and the saints smile on them, they can return in four days.¡±

    ¡°Four¡ª¡± The prince swallowed the rest of his retort. It had to be done so there was no use complaining. All that would accomplish was creating an embarrassing scene where Ewan pulled rank and told Samuel what would be happening. ¡°Very well. Let me know the moment you have news.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help you pass the time.¡±

    ¡°¡­if that is a subtle way of asking me to join your morning drills, I refuse.¡±

    Ewan smiled. He had a great smile, bright and full. It made Samuel feel bad about rejecting him, despite having done it countless times before. ¡°I¡¯ll be here if you change your mind, your highness.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-03

    Four days later, Samuel stood a few paces from the convoy of wagons, sweating profusely. He had rejected Ewan¡¯s offer of training but found himself practicing on his own. There was little else to do besides watch the clouds and that got boring very quickly. The soldiers that weren¡¯t watching the perimeter amused themselves with cards and board games, but there was no room for a prince in common games.

    There was no reason not to practice his magic. Despite being a student of the Hall, Samuel wasn¡¯t dedicated to the magical arts. Faced with true casters, his idle dreams of distinguishing himself through magical excellence quickly dissipated. Many underestimated the dedication it took to become a master caster. Simply learning the spells wasn¡¯t enough. Being able to fight wasn¡¯t enough. Reaching the greatest height of magic took imagination, the special intellect that could see something greater in the simple forces that governed the world. Obtaining the power to shape the world was straightforward, if time-consuming. What separated masters from the spell slingers of the army hurling magic at beasts was the vision to do something other than unilaterally spread destruction.

    Samuel didn¡¯t have that vision. If he did, he wouldn¡¯t be floundering without a clear road to follow. What he could do was drill in the basics until they became second nature.

    What the drills would accomplish, the prince didn¡¯t know. He hoped that the detached focus doing routine actions inspired would spark a flash of genius. Or perhaps he would be better prepared the next time he tried to cut down a traitor aiming for his life. After his embarrassing display the previous year, Griffin Gale, the artifact his father had lent him for his protection, was taken away. He would have to rely on his own power to protect himself.

    If only he could achieve power by snapping his fingers. Royal or not, he had to sweat like everyone else. Using his magic core, aside from being mentally taxing, strained the body in some indescribable way. He felt like he had done a full-body workout out but wouldn¡¯t be getting any of the benefits. A misery that was still better than endless boredom.

    ¡°Some water, Your Highness?¡±

    The glow faded from Samuel¡¯s eyes as his shoulders slumped. He turned to find Orphelia standing an arm-length away, a mug in one hand and a towel over one shoulder. Somehow, the woman had no trouble ingratiating herself with the soldiers. He was glad that he didn¡¯t have to suffer her company for long, but it was annoying that she was so easily accepted in a place barred from him.

    They would let him play if he commanded it but there would be none of the  quiet conversation and mirthful laughter in the tension that followed.

    Samuel motioned for the water, draining the small cup in three gulps. She tossed him the towel without prompting and he wiped his face before muttering his thanks.

    ¡°Just doing my duty as a loyal subject of the crown.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Did you need something?¡±

    ¡°I came to inform you that the scouts have returned.¡±

    Samuel walked off and Orphelia fell in-step behind him. ¡°You¡¯re actually making yourself useful.¡±

    ¡°I aim to please.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll never believe that.¡±

    ¡°I never said I aim to please you. Sir Reed looked upset when the scouts were reporting to him. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say he wants to extend our delay and you are the only one who can talk him out of it.¡±

    Samuel sped up. He understood the need for caution but if they were delayed any longer, he could kiss having a decent selection of classes goodbye. It was stupid to ride into danger but to avoid the possibility of danger out of fear would end with him never leaving the palace. What was the point of being escorted by a cadre of soldiers and three royal knights if a few saboteurs paralyzed them?

    He found Ewan near the front of the convoy, speaking with two men seated on the driver¡¯s bench of the first carriage. All three wore tight grimaces as they spoke in low whispers. There was an air about them that warned against interrupting. Samuel stepped right past it. He was a prince. Nothing could bar him, not even quiet expectations.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    The men quieted as he approached, the scouts straightening up while Ewan bowed. ¡°Your Highness. I was just about to¡ª"

    ¡°Do you intend to delay us further?¡±

    The knight glanced at Orphelia, who returned his stare with a smile. He didn¡¯t sigh, that would be unbecoming, but Samuel was sure he saw reluctance in the man¡¯s expressive eyes. ¡°These two had ridden themselves to exhaustion. Would you give them leave to retire? I can brief you on the situation alone.¡±

    Another favor. And perhaps an attempt to improve Samuel¡¯s reputation among the soldiers. His strained relationship with the men had to be obvious over the last few days. Samuel hadn¡¯t thought twice about the exhausted scouts. It would have been poor form for them to walk away from a royal without being dismissed. The soldiers¡¯ opinion of him wouldn¡¯t have been improved if he unintentionally forced men that had pushed themselves to the limit to complete a mission to attend him.

    ¡°Go on. Get some rest.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, highness,¡± one of them said quickly, nudging the second when the other man took too long.

    Ewan waited until they were out of sight and subtly checked the surroundings for eavesdroppers before continuing. ¡°I don¡¯t plan on delaying us further, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°Good. We¡ª"

    ¡°I mean to turn us around.¡±

    ¡°¡­is that some kind of joke?¡±

    ¡°No. Those men you sent to rest? They entered the city and found that the damaged wall is the least of the damage. A large-scale battle took place and the damage is catastrophic. The city is a ruin.¡±

    ¡°Is the Hall alright?!¡±

    Ewan frowned. ¡°Prince Samuel, there are bigger concerns. One of the major cities of the kingdom has been attacked. Thousands are dead, thousands more displaced from their homes. The ramifications of this event will affect Harvest on every level. Do you understand how badly the economy will be affected by the loss of trade? The political ramifications of panicking nobles making rash decisions? There will be chaos.¡±

    Samuel briefly felt chastised, but he rejected the feeling. Those were terrible things but nothing that affected him directly. He wasn¡¯t the heir who would eventually have to concern himself with cleaning up everyone¡¯s messes. He was an acolyte. Why shouldn¡¯t the fate of the Hall concern him most? ¡°Will that chaos extend to the Hall?¡±

    ¡°¡­no. The guilds were the target of the attack.¡±

    ¡°Then you know who¡¯s responsible?¡±

    ¡°Everyone knows who¡¯s responsible. Lourianne Tome.¡±

    Samuel stared at the man, his mind slow to comprehend the information it was given.

    Orphelia was much faster to respond. ¡°Just her? Was any other group involved?¡±

    ¡°The scouts weren¡¯t in the city for long, but they talked to multiple sources. Refugees, hunters, and acolytes. All said the conflict was just between the Tome clan under Lourianne Tome and the guilds. No one else was mentioned.¡±

    ¡°But to turn a city to rubble¡­succubi are meant to be subtle threats.¡±

    ¡°The witnesses say that a great, purple beast was the source of the destruction.¡±

    ¡°Another elemental? My, she¡¯s really flexing her skill.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Samuel interrupted. ¡°This doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±

    ¡°Denying reality isn¡¯t going to help,¡± Orphelia said chidingly.

    ¡°¡­for the sake of argument, I will set aside common sense and accept the premise that the Tome woman bested a city full of experienced fighters and decimated Quest and is still running amok. The Grand Hall is still standing. Clearly, she has enough sense not to challenge the Harvest Hero and the most elite casters in the kingdom. I don¡¯t see why you object to going to the Hall.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not the Hall I object to. It¡¯s the danger of reaching it that worries me.¡±

    ¡°You think she will attempt to kill us?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a possibility¡ª"

    ¡°It¡¯s ridiculous!¡± Samuel snapped. ¡°Perhaps I have you confused for someone else. A royal knight would be eager to strike down a threat against the crown.¡±

    Ewan¡¯s frown turned into a scowl. ¡°My duty¡ª"

    ¡°Is to see me safely to the Hall. So far, the only thing preventing you from doing that is you.¡± Samuel straightened, a rare moment when he appreciated his large frame. ¡°Don¡¯t make me order you.¡±

    The knight bowed his head. Samuel wondered if it was to hide his reaction. ¡°Very well, your highness. We will set out first thing tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    Samuel stomped away, eager to escape with his victory. He wasn¡¯t the least bit surprised when Orphelia¡¯s spoke up, revealing that she had followed him. ¡°A splendid tantrum.¡±

    ¡°You will not mock my decision,¡± he growled. ¡°This is my life and I plan to live it. Ewan¡ªSir Reed is capable. There are two other royal knights accompanying us, along with a dozen soldiers. If all of that isn¡¯t enough to keep me safe, I may as well never leave the capital. Or my bedroom. Saints, maybe I¡¯m not even safe at the seat of my father¡¯s power. Perhaps the monster under the bed will eat me.¡± He scoffed. ¡°Besides, that woman has no interest in me.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? The two of you didn¡¯t part on good terms.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I¡¯m sure she dislikes me but enough to go out of her way to target me? She went out of her way to avoid me before, practically begged me to stay away from her. When I refused, her wife beat me senseless. I¡¯d say any grudge between us has been settled.¡±

    ¡°But what if it isn¡¯t? Shall I tell you what the honorable and prideful Sir Reed hesitated to say? If she decides you still owe her a debt, he isn¡¯t sure he can protect you. Why would he be? She took on a small army and emerged victorious. Royal knights or not, that kind of power is nothing to turn your nose up at. You play a dangerous game, prince.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, but it is my game to play and I will not be ruled by fear. Stay here if you¡¯re afraid. Tomorrow, I plan to get on with my life.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-04

    Samuel was no fool.

    He also wasn¡¯t as nonchalant about the proposed danger of an angry Lourianne Tome targeting him as he wanted to appear.

    He knew the strength of a royal knight well. As a boy, when swordplay and simple magic excited him to no end, he used to follow Dowager to watch their training. That included bouts between the members. They restrained themselves but it was enough for even his young mind to understand that they were very powerful. A threat Ewan was hesitant to confront was not a threat Samuel should take lightly. He didn¡¯t take it lightly.

    But cowering was no option. Going home wasn¡¯t an option either. Samuel had let fear command him for too long; so much of his life was wasted chasing a fool¡¯s dream because he was afraid of rejection. He didn¡¯t dare challenge his brother for the throne because he was afraid of going up against the monumental force that was tradition. He didn¡¯t give his best at the Hall because he was afraid he wouldn¡¯t measure up despite giving it his all. He didn¡¯t have any more time for fear.

    His actions weren¡¯t totally fueled by his growing desperation. If he were going to Quest alone, he wouldn¡¯t dare take the risk. His belief in the royal knights fueled his daring. Whatever power Lourianne Tome wielded, he didn¡¯t doubt for a moment that his escorts had the power to protect him. Perhaps they couldn¡¯t defeat her, not with that ridiculous green woman at her side, but the least they could do was rush him out of the city or to the neutral territory of the Hall.

    Vague notions of duty mixed with morbid curiosity also contributed to his decision. His mind couldn¡¯t grasp the idea that a major city had been destroyed in a conflict. He wanted to see it, confirm it. A part of him felt like it was his responsibility as a prince. His father had to know about the situation and the solution would have nothing to do with him, but a part of him whispered that he should be there. That as a royal, he couldn¡¯t turn away from a tragedy.

    For his many reasons, Samuel remained steadfast in his resolve to reach the city. Ewan had the power to override his decision, but it would not reflect well on him to ignore Samuel for an unconfirmed threat. To flee in the face of the enemy. Ewan wasn¡¯t the kind of man that let reputation keep him from making the right decision, which was why he had such a good one, but he wasn¡¯t above considering the perception of things. Perhaps there was a real threat to Samuel¡¯s life, but if he returned to the capital without proof of such and the prince made a fuss, he could be sanctioned for insubordination. He could be stripped of his title.

    So, shortly after dawn, the convoy continued. They were still days from the city but the usual quiet of the road was laced with a thick tension. His escorts weren¡¯t happy. They trusted Ewan¡¯s opinion and surely knew that they were proceeding against his wishes. There went any attempts to win the men¡¯s respect.

    If he thought highly of the royal knights, soldiers worshipped them. To go against their word was like going against the saints. The story of a haughty prince harassing the honorable knight trying to protect everyone would surely make the rounds. If something happened to Ewan, Samuel was sure he¡¯d be despised by the army for the rest of his life.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Thankfully, nothing happened. The road didn¡¯t open up and swallow them as the walls of the city came into view. At first, Samuel didn¡¯t see the damage. Only when they were hours from the gate did it become obvious. Samuel scoffed when he realized that it was only a few missing chunks off the top. He was expecting a gaping hole, a vulnerability. A large crack in the face of the wall maybe, a scar that would shake the confidence in the city¡¯s ability to defend itself.

    Seeing the equivalent of a splinter had prompted his escort¡¯s paranoia, he closed the shutters of his carriage and shut his eyes, willing the last leg of the journey to pass swiftly.

    At first, he thought the knock on his door was the signal that they were stopping. The carriage had slowed its pace, but its speed remained steady. Frowning in confusion, Samuel opened his door.

    Ewan rode beside him dressed in his armor, including a helmet that hid everything but his stern eyes. The serious air around him weighed down Samuel¡¯s tongue, making it impossible to speak.

    ¡°Open your shutters,¡± the knight said, voice hard as steel. ¡°You should see what you¡¯re so eager to involve yourself in.¡±

    The knight didn¡¯t wait for Samuel to reply, slamming the door in his face. After a beat, the prince obeyed the command. He opened the shutters and he saw a ruined city.

    The sight itself wasn¡¯t horrific; there was little to fear from mounds of shattered stone and splintered wood. He imagined someone that didn¡¯t know the city wouldn¡¯t feel much at all. It was only because Samuel had a picture of what the city once was that he could truly appreciate the devastation. Homes, shops, workshops, all gone. Flattened. It felt as if a great hand had squashed the city beneath its palm with the same disdain of someone squashing a bug.

    There was so much space. So much¡­emptiness. It felt like a physical thing, pressing on his chest with greater force the longer he stared. His eyes stung as he forgot to blink while searching for something that stood out in the uniform destruction. Something recognizable.

    The worst part was the silence. Quest was a bustling city; the third largest in the kingdom. There were always carriages and wagons on the road. Always people shouting and laughing on the corners. The air should be humming with the thrum of thousands of people going about their lives.

    Somehow, the absence of sound was louder than any crowd; it was so poignant Samuel¡¯s ears rang with it, a horribly uncomfortable feeling.

    Just as he was starting to feel sick to his stomach, they reached the Myriad Zone. Samuel detested the northernmost district of the city. It was a mess to travel through, as the roads were filled with disorderly drunks at all times of the day, usually ones incapable or unwilling to follow the directions of his driver. The bright colors were disorientating, and the district didn¡¯t cater to any of his interests, along with several he despised.

    Yet, after riding through a wasteland, he was overjoyed to see the obnoxious part of the city. He smiled at the plentiful signs of life, though the crowd was thinner and more subdued than usual. The pressure on his chest eased though his mind remained restless as he finally turned his gaze from the window. He hardly noticed when the earth casters raised him to the Hall.

    Again, it was a knock on that disturbed him from his thoughts. Samuel opened it, expecting to see Ewan¡¯s stern eyes watching him. Instead, Orphelia and her unnerving smile greeted him.

    ¡°Are you still eager to be in the middle of the trouble, your highness?¡± she asked, no trace of empathy in her pretty gaze.

 Miniarc-Villains-05

    Despite leaving the danger of the broken city behind, Samuel was a ball of tension as his procession rode through the hall. The shutters covering the window of the carriage were wide open so his eyes could scan the surroundings for any sign that the conflict had spread to the school. Reality defied his fears, but it did nothing to dispel the lingering dread that clung to his heart. His large frame resembled a spring, wound tight until he sprang out of the vehicle once they reached the Gold Dorm.

    The Hall prided itself on its ideal of equality, but it was impossible to achieve in full. Dunwayne¡¯s intentions had opened doors and shattered barriers, but one man couldn¡¯t change the kingdom and the centuries of tradition behind it.

    Outside the school, inequality was a fact of existence. It was also essential, woven into the fabric of society. To forbid it in its entirety would have meant the Harvest Hero¡¯s dream never reaching the floating island; his eccentricities were allowed so long as the powerful didn¡¯t view it as a threat.

    They made demands of the Hall. While the Bronze Dorm made do with quarters the size of a holding cell for criminals and furnished with the minimum, the acolytes of the Gold Dorm had attached rooms and plush rugs. They ate better food, drank better wine, and their halls were decorated with expensive art. The acolytes of lesser station cursed them as useless luxuries but there was a purpose beyond the proclivities of the rich.

    The heirs had duties beyond bettering themselves. Many of them being in one place offered an opportunity the patriarchs behind them separated by vast distances would never have. An acolyte of the Gold Dorm inviting someone to their rooms or sharing a meal could send ripples throughout the kingdom. Such things had rules and required the proper props.

    So long as Harvest was governed by nobles, it would be impossible to shake the expectations that came with them.

    Samuel thought of the Hall fondly. His first year, he was nervous being beyond the reach of his father and the visceral authority of the crown. All his life, he¡¯d been drilled with the knowledge that his life had inherent value; by that same measure, there was value in his death. However, his fears of a crowd of commoners ready to take out all the misfortunes of their lives on his person amounted to nothing. Wherever he went, he was a prince and carried the threat of every soldier the crown could muster with him.

    Once he was released from his fear, he found he enjoyed being far from the shadow of his elder brother. In some ways, the Hall was more of a home than the capital. It was a habit of his to stand just beyond the doorway when he returned for another year, taking a few quiet moments to shed the frustrations of the capital and embrace his identity as  an acolyte.

    One he forsook as he rushed toward the on-duty servant that sat behind at a small desk next to the stairs that led to the rooms. The servants of the Gold Dorm weren¡¯t intimidated by those in power, having built an immunity from exposure,  but the wide-eyed prince moving with purpose startled the young woman into straightening with a snap.

    ¡°You! Tell me if Cecilia Rosefield is in residence.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, your highness. The rules¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know the saints damned rules!¡± Seeing the servant¡¯s poor attempt to hide her unease, the prince forced himself to calm down, forcefully exhaling through his nose. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to share her room or if she¡¯s present. Merely if she has registered for a room this year. I arrived today. Surely you understand?¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    The servant¡¯s expression softened. ¡°¡­I do. One moment, please.¡±

    The servant bent over. Samuel heard the click of a lock being opened and held back the curiosity that wanted to peek over the desk to see whatever was so precious. A finger tapped his leg as he stretched his meagre patience. It was a struggle not to demand the woman move faster. It felt like a small eternity before she straightened.

    ¡°Lady Rosefield has been assigned a room.¡±

    The tension in the prince¡¯s body finally eased. If Cecilia registered after the tragedy of the city, it meant she was alive. If she did before, it meant she had a safe place to retreat to and she was too sensible to stand in the way of trouble. She was safe. ¡°Thank you.¡± He quickly slipped a silver crown from his purse and passed it over, the woman accepting it with a bowed head. ¡°I would like a message sent to her.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± The servant reached for one of three bells that sat at the edge of the desk, ringing it twice. A young woman approached from the direction of the dining room, bowing clumsily before him. ¡°She will take it.¡±

    ¡°Inform her that I have arrived and would enjoy her company for dinner tonight. I will be in the dining room in¡­half a bell.¡± His body wanted to rest on a fine bed for the first time in his weeks, but his troubled mind was far from settling. Better to tend to his heart that wanted desperately wanted to see her; his unrequited love aside, it was normal for friends to want to embrace one another after learning one could have died.

    The girl gave him another clumsy bow before hurrying off, bounding up the stairs with the energy of a dog made to fetch.

    ¡°Would you like to register for a room?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Preferably on the fourth floor.¡± The higher the floor, the more spacious the rooms. He didn¡¯t have many belongings but it wouldn¡¯t be a good look for a prince to be beneath anyone.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem. There are many vacancies.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± Samuel was worried when he made his request because he arrived much later than planned. The rooms on the fourth floor were popular and, while the students couldn¡¯t ignore his family, the Hall wouldn¡¯t cater to him. ¡°Has something happened?¡±

    When the servant hesitated, he handed over three more silver. ¡°Many students left after the trouble in the city. None of the dorms are full.¡±

    Samuel almost warned the woman against lying to him. She didn¡¯t seem dishonest, but her words were unbelievable. The Hall had to refuse hundreds, if not thousands, of potential students every year. The dorms, especially the cost-effective Bronze Dorm, were always packed.

    ¡°Why?¡± He understood being afraid of whatever might be brewing in the city but surely they didn¡¯t doubt their safety while in the Hall. The only safer place in the kingdom was the palace.

    The servant frowned. ¡°There has been concerns about safety.¡±

    ¡°Are there concerns about the guilds¡¯ conflict spreading?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°The students are concerned that they will be coerced into fighting to take back the city.¡±

    ¡°The Grandmaster would never.¡± The Harvest Hero¡¯s neutrality was almost as famous as his many accomplishments. He hadn¡¯t participated in anything beyond the school in years.

    ¡°None doubt the Grandmaster¡¯s stance. They are concerned that the crown will sanction their families if they are called upon and refuse. The Hall has little political sway outside of the city and Quest is¡­¡±

    Samuel grunted. ¡°So, the heirs are waiting to see how the situation develops. What of the commoners?¡± He would have thought that they would be eager for a chance to earn glory and money.

    ¡°Some fear death. Some protest the Hall¡¯s actions, or the lack thereof.¡±

    ¡°They want to fight?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and they denounce the Grandmaster for not taking more direct action.¡±

    The prince shook his head, knowing the kingdom would be doomed if not for nobles. He thought a serious concern lurked behind the unusual vacancies, but it was just inflamed hearts. He didn¡¯t know how the city would fare in the future, but, once the worst of the hysteria faded, the dorms would be full again. Before the year ended, he suspected. As soon as the fools realized there was nothing they could do. Whatever was going on in Quest, masters and their peers would handle it.

    ¡°Hmph. I will need someone to collect my luggage.¡±

    ¡°Of course, your highness.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-06

    A half-bell was a short time to wash away weeks of travel.

    Samuel regretted his haste as he briskly wiped dirt from his hands and face before changing into fresh clothes. His hair took the longest, as he brushed it till it gleamed. It was his best feature but it was also a trait unique to the royal family. It represented them; he couldn¡¯t walk around with it darkened with the dirt or unkempt.

    Despite his best efforts, he missed his self-imposed deadline. Cecilia was already seated at a window table at the back of the dining room; all he could make out of her was her blond hair and the blue dress he wore but it was enough to make his heart jump. He¡¯d spent so long gazing at her back that he could recognize it at any distance.

    She turned moments after he started his approach, the empty dining room offering no distractions to muffle the sound of his boots, and quickly climbed to her feet. Samuel grit his teeth to hold back the swell of emotions churning in his gut, hoping nothing but concern showed on his face.

    ¡°Samuel!¡±

    His carefully controlled concern was shattered by wide-eyed surprise as she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him as tightly as her thin arms could manage. The strain on the blockage holding back his emotions increased by a magnitude as he wondered if it was okay to return the gesture or if he would be taking advantage of her. Just as he convinced himself he was thinking too much for a simple hug, she pulled away.

    There was no trace of his embarrassment in her soft smile. ¡°Forgive me if that was overly familiar.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± he shouted, wincing at the volume. He was glad there was no one to witness his bumbling excitement. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± he continued in a softer voice. He wanted to tell her she could hug him whenever she pleased. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re safe too,¡± he offered instead.

    ¡°I¡¯ve said that same phrase many times before but never with as much meaning as I have in the last few days.¡±

    She retook her seat and he was quick to follow, settling across from her. A server appeared at their table. Cecila abstained but Samuel quickly ordered dinner and a bottle of wine, hoping the drink would entice her to stay for longer. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of getting between a man and his dinner the first night after a long journey.¡±

    ¡°How do you know it¡¯s my first night?¡±

    Her smile morphed into something the prince couldn¡¯t decipher. ¡°This is the first invitation I¡¯ve received from you since the tragedy. You¡¯re not the kind of man that would sleep without knowing the fate of those he cares about.¡±

    Samuel hoped the blush he felt heating his face didn¡¯t show. Cecilia rarely pointed out his feelings directly, but her usual filter seemed to have been damaged. He wasn¡¯t his younger self that would read too much in the words, but he was enjoying her directness.

    The server returned with a bottle and two glasses. Samuel poured for them, pushing the second glass close enough she could grab if with ease but not too close that it could be taken as a demand. ¡°What happened to the city? Ewan didn¡¯t have time to conduct a proper investigation.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Sir Reed escorted you? Does he have additional orders?¡±

    ¡°I doubt it. We¡¯ve had no word since we left. Our timing is a result of delays.¡±

    Her soft chuckle said she knew exactly what, or specifically who, had delayed them. ¡°Nevertheless, it¡¯s reassuring to have him close by. Quest needs men of sound character and good judgment. All kinds have been crawling out of the shadows to make nuisances of themselves.¡± She shook her head. ¡°The fearmongers are bad but the worst are the sick minds that admire the destruction.¡±

    ¡°You were an admirer of the Tome woman not too long ago.¡±

    Samuel didn¡¯t know why he spoke the words and regretted them the moment they left his tongue. Cecilia¡¯s reaction was tamer than he expected, limited to pursed lips and hard eyes. It was almost annoying how appealing it was. How was he supposed to forget her when every moment with her made him fall harder?

    ¡°¡­it¡¯s not something I¡¯m proud of. I admit, I was drawn to what Lou represented. The opportunity she could create. You have no idea what it means to have no options. Yes, you were passed over to succeed your father, but that is one path blocked to you. The rest of the kingdom is your playground. You can go where you wish, when you wish, and do whatever you wish.¡±

    Her eyes flicked to the untouched glass of wine, considering it for a long moment before she gently plucked it from the table. She sighed after a long drink. ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t be interested in a shortcut?¡±

    ¡°¡­I can¡¯t have everything.¡±

    She chuckled. ¡°Can anyone? But you get to decide your future. No. I suppose I should say you will be supported no matter the future you choose for yourself alone. By the whole kingdom, no less.¡±

    The prince frowned. ¡°You make it sound so easy.¡±

    ¡°Is it not? The Grand Hall is a dream to many. There who work for years and geniuses have to compete to come here; then they have to find a way to pay for the privilege. You, who hardly cares for the subject, decided to attend on a whim. I doubt you gave whether you¡¯d be accepted or the tuition a single thought.¡±

    She sighed after her tirade.

    Forgive me, your highness,¡± she muttered, turning her gaze to the window. ¡°I haven¡¯t been myself lately.¡±

    The prince wasn¡¯t thrilled; he was used to her treating him kindly and preferred it. But another part of him was glad. Her tone might be sharp but when she used it, he didn¡¯t feel the yawning distance that normally separated them.

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize. I¡ª¡± He was interrupted by the arrival of the food. The server was quick and Samuel spoke quickly once the man left, unwilling to let the conversation backtrack. ¡°I want you to be open with me.¡±

    ¡°¡­then I¡¯ll speak plainly.¡±

    ¡°Really?!¡± He¡¯d asked her to be more casual with him for years and she¡¯d always refused without hesitation.

    Her laughter at his surprise was genuine. ¡°There are more important things than formalities.¡±

    ¡°Well, good. I hope you will speak plainly about the reasons behind the conflict. Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice you changing the subject.¡±

    ¡°Why do you want to know? This isn¡¯t something we should be involved in.¡±

    ¡°I know that, but I can¡¯t remain ignorant. How ridiculous will I look if I know nothing about the greatest threat to the kingdom in centuries? And there is no one I would trust more to tell me the truth than you.¡±

    The conversation lulled as Cecilia sipped her drink. Samuel turned his attention to his food, giving her time to think. She grabbed his attention by tapping her empty glass with a nail. The prince dutifully poured, taking quiet amusement in how swiftly her unwillingness to drink had collapsed. All the major families had reputations about their characters, hugely deserved. Just as the Guiness bled gold, the Rosefields couldn¡¯t resist an indulgence.

    ¡°You must promise me one thing, your highness.¡±

    ¡°I thought you agreed to be more casual?¡±

    ¡°Habits aren¡¯t so simple to break. Promise me you won¡¯t involve yourself beyond the role of an acolyte. You¡¯re right, there are too many who would skew the situation to make you act for their own ends, but there¡¯s no point in coming to me if you endanger yourself anyway.¡±

    ¡°Am I the kind of man to sacrifice himself?¡±

    ¡°No, but you are a passionate man. Sometimes, it overwhelms you. Promise me, your¡­Samuel.¡±

    He wanted to tell her he¡¯d promise her anything.

    ¡°Tell me.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-07

    Samuel slept fitfully that night, his dreams plagued by vague memories of his childhood interspersed with scenes of his younger sister pulling apart rag dolls¡¯ confusing and concerning. Dinner with Cecilia was delightful and illuminating, but it left him with a lingering dread for the future, one that seeped into his thoughts no matter his desire to ignore it.

    He expected Cecilia to have insight, but not the rambling story she laid out for him with surprising detail. Intelligence was powerful and hoarded jealously. She insisted she didn¡¯t have to work hard for the knowledge; everyone knew the events surrounding the destruction of the city. It almost felt like there was a force ensuring the details reached as many ears as possible.

    There were many worrisome aspects to the tale: the power of the Tome family, the intentions of Lourianne, the prospect of retaliation from the beaten hunters. Yet, what worried Samuel were things Cecilia brushed over.

    His first concern was the sudden the sickness that had rampaged through the city prior to attack. Cecilia hadn¡¯t used the word plague because the healers didn¡¯t consider it lethal for the average body, but it was what everyone feared. Disease was a sinister enemy. Like any opponent, it grew in the face of adversity. It had no empathy and couldn¡¯t be reasoned with. Left alone, something with the ability to spread the way it had could decimate the kingdom, let alone a single city.

    The reason behind the sickness was buried under the rubble and the prince was concerned that thoughts of war would mean it went unattended for too long.

    His second concern was the perception of Victory being distorted. The north was a place of blood and nightmares. When mothers wanted to scare their children, they threatened to send them to the north, where the sun never shined and the men were as wild as the monsters. Victorians had a reputation for being crazy. Traditions of sacrifice and martial prowess made for a powerful army, one that made interfering with them complicated. The crown turned a blind eye to the whole territory and they were allowed their disinterest because Victory¡¯s agenda never involved the rest of the kingdom.

    In the wake of the destruction, the common opinion of the north was shifting. There were rumors that the attack was the first step in a plan of conquest. It was an undeniable that the conflict started within the walls of the fort and the fear that Harvest would soon be embroiled in a civil war was growing in strength.

    Samuel didn¡¯t believe such for a moment. His opinion wasn¡¯t based solely off their history of disinterest in anything south of the mountains, though it was powerful evidence to counter the baseless paranoia. Victory simply couldn¡¯t afford a war. They relied too heavily on trade with the kingdom, especially the foodstuffs of the Rosefield duchy. If they made an enemy of the crown, their own land, cold and barren as it was, would kill them.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Even if the duke lost his mind to the temptation of conquest, he would start with the villages closest to them. Quest was too far from the fort and too prominent a target. Such an action would be dumb and it was never a good idea to assume an opponent, even a potential opponent, was stupid.

    Unfortunately, the masses cared little for logic. Years of the crown quietly supporting the idea of Victory being populated with bloodthirsty fanatics was coming back to haunt them. The people feared the knights of the north. The idea that the James family might be coming for them was terrifying. No one felt safe and he didn¡¯t want to see what that would inspire.

    But that was a problem for someone else. His vague guilt and promise to Cecilia aside, there was nothing he could do about the storm brewing over the ruined city. There was nothing for him to do besides focus on himself.

    The next morning, Ewan was waiting in front of the dining room when he went down for breakfast, his golden armor swapped for the unassuming clothes of a servant. No one paid any attention to the man that could level the whole building as he shadowed Samuel to his table, even when they greeted the prince. Several voices tried to drag him into a conversation, but Samuel easily deflected their interest.

    ¡°I would have thought you¡¯d be on your way back to the capital,¡± he said to the knight after he finished ordering.

    Ewan frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not comfortable retreating while the situation is unstable. No one has been able to contact the Teppin family. Most minds are working under the assumption that the Tome clan is holding them hostage. A noble being held by a mass murderer. The situation is appalling.¡±

    ¡°¡­don¡¯t tell me you plan on raiding the Teppin estate?¡±

    The royal knight tried to keep his expression neutral but, as always, his expressive eyes gave him away. They practically shouted the exasperation he was holding back. ¡°No, your highness. I¡¯ve sent word to the capital. The men and I will remain while we await further orders. Since we¡¯re here, there¡¯s no need for you to remain unescorted.¡±

    Samuel scoffed. ¡°So, you plan to nip at my heels like a puppy? Doesn¡¯t a royal knight have anything better to do?¡±

    ¡°It would be an embarrassment to all royal knights if a prince were to come to harm because we decided to be lax in our duty.¡±

    ¡°Surely you don¡¯t think I¡¯m in danger?¡±

    ¡°It would be a disgrace if I didn¡¯t protect from all possible danger.¡±

    Samuel sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose I can change your mind.¡±

    ¡°I must remain steadfast when it comes to your safety and can only beg your forgiveness for imposing on you.¡±

    Forgiveness? Samuel scoffed at the poor joke. A useless second prince had no right to question a royal knight. He might throw around his authority, but Samuel had no illusion about who his father would support should it come to it. ¡°I won¡¯t be stuck in my room.¡±

    ¡°I see no reason to insist on it.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Then, one final question. What will you do if there¡¯s another attack?¡±

    Ewan¡¯s jaw tensed but it eased in a blink. ¡°My duty is to the royal family. Your safety is my priority.¡±

    ¡°I know what your duty it.¡± Samuel leaned over the table, brows furrowed. ¡°Don¡¯t avoid the question. If I¡¯m perfectly safe and there¡¯s no duty to chain you, if you come upon Lourianne Tome slaughtering innocents with no one around to order you otherwise, will you confront her?¡±

    The knight didn¡¯t answer.

    But his eyes gave him away.

 Miniarc-Villains-08

    Samuel wasn¡¯t the only one ready to get on with his life.

    When he arrived, he was struck by the little traffic through the Market but the Caster Hall was as busy as ever. The new term was fast approaching and there was plenty to do. While the staff finalized their curriculums, the acolytes had to confirm their placements in their preferred, or not preferred, ensure accommodations, and prepare their supplies.

    For a small group, there was also a race to find work. Magical mastery didn¡¯t come cheap. Many acolytes had to work while pursuing their studies and the Hall was a popular employer; the school offered fair wages, convenience, and rare access to members of the staff. The right position could change an acolyte¡¯s life.

    Samuel didn¡¯t understand their desperation, but he respected. Or rather, he accepted that stressed students didn¡¯t have the capacity to show deference to anyone, even a prince. When they rushed toward him, he stepped out of their way, something he¡¯d never do in the capital. At the Hall, he was an acolyte before he was a prince. That meant there were different rules.

    Another one of those rules was to respect administration. They were servants like the other laborers of the Hall, usually commoners wealth couldn¡¯t even compare to the change he forgot in his pants, but they held power over all the students.

    They were the bridge between the students and the staff. They ferried requests to join classes and the responses. They passed along assessments and recommendations. Some of them were recruiters for instructors, trusted aids that handled the selection process for the busy academics. Their words could ruin someone. They were professionals, like all servants of the Hall, but getting on their bad side was a bad idea.

    Samuel kept as much in mind as he stood before a young woman with her head bowed over a piece of parchment. She ignored him until she finished writing, even when he cleared his throat softly. Time seemed to drag on until she finally set down her smudgestick and looked up at him, lips stretching into a practiced smile that didn¡¯t reach her dark eyes. ¡°How may I assist you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to confirm my class schedule.¡±

    ¡°May I have your name?¡±

    ¡°Samuel kor Harvest,¡± he responded, wondering if the woman truly didn¡¯t recognize him or if it was a part of an act.

    Her lack of reaction gave nothing away. He heard a drawer sliding open as she leaned over, straightening up moments later with a wooden board in her hand. ¡°Here you are. You¡¯ve been accepted into all your preferred classes.¡±

    She passed along the board. On one side was a list of all his classes, their times, and their locations. He didn¡¯t need to look at the other side to know there was a message carved into the wood instructing to return the board when he no longer had need of it. Samuel was glad there was nothing unexpected in the information. There were horror stories about acolytes having to choose between classes because of unfortunate scheduling.

    ¡°Is there anything else I can assist you with?¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Before you leave¡ª¡±

    Samel paused and turned back to the woman. ¡°¡ªwould you be interested in an extracurricular activity?¡±

    ¡°If this is about a job, I don¡¯t need the money.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°The Hall is offering a wage of twenty copper a day but there are other perks. It has been listed as a substitute requirement for many advanced classes. Some instructors have also offered personal tutoring for those with the highest contribution.¡±

    Samuel was intrigued. It was rare for the instructors to offer up their time as a reward. Most of them only taught as it was a requirement if they wanted the Hall to support their research. ¡°What is the work?¡±

    ¡°The Hall needs assistance with the shelter it¡¯s constructed for the refugees of the city. There is work for everyone, regardless of affinity or experience.¡±

    Working amongst commoners, for commoners? The idea would have been offensive mere days before. Having ridden through the destruction, he understood why the powerful were being called upon to act. But he was a prince. No matter how desperate the situation, it wasn¡¯t his place to hand out soup and tend to the sick.

    ¡°I will consider it.¡±

    ¡°If you find yourself interested, the Hall offers transportation to and from the camp, at sixth and fourteenth bell. There will never be a shortage of positions and the work is meaningful.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± he replied dismissively, not intending to give it another thought.

    -

    ¡°Did everything go well?¡±

    Samuel grinned. Once more, he was seated across from Cecilia, this time at her invitation. ¡°Good. I¡¯ve been accepted into every class of my choice.¡±

    ¡°Your goal for this year was to learn dual affinity magic, right?¡±

    The prince nodded. The power in having more than one affinity was combining them into more than their individual parts.

    ¡°Have you decided on a specialty?¡±

    ¡°Nothing stands out.¡±

    ¡°I suppose there aren¡¯t many grandiose positions for a user of water and air.¡±

    Far from. The most common job for a water caster was the unimaginative duty of providing clean water for smaller settlements. The second was a cleaner.

    ¡°If I hand to pick tonight, I would say a storm caller.¡±

    Cecilia stiffened at the mention of the specialized casters trained and employed by the Rosefields, one of the pillars of their titanic agricultural supremacy. ¡°For me?¡±

    ¡°A significant perk but because of the good wage for a safe job in a beautiful location. I can¡¯t stay in the capital forever. I was leaning toward settling in Quest but¡­Rosentheim was my second choice.¡±

    ¡°Well, I hope you haven¡¯t made up your mind. You will never be another simple caster and my family won¡¯t hesitate to take advantage of that.¡±

    ¡°Never mind something years in the future. What about you? Have you settled on a direction?¡± Samuel was aware that Cecilia was only allowed to attend the Hall because her family wanted to nurture her relationship with him. She never had an interest in the subject. Lackluster would be a kind description of her efforts.

    ¡°Ah. I¡¯ve postponed signing up for classes. Instead, I¡¯ll be devoting my time to the camp.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± Samuel barely managed to strangle the shout that blurted out of his mouth, only drawing the attention of the closest tables as opposed to the whole room. ¡°But¡­why? You gave me so many warnings about not getting involved.¡±

    ¡°I wanted you to have an accurate picture when making your decision. As for me¡­¡± She sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve asked me to speak plainly with you. The truth is, I have been meandering through life, obediently walking the path my uncle wants. I want something more, but I can¡¯t even picture it. I¡¯m not sure I want to do this but¡­it feels real.

    ¡°I saw it, you know? I was in the Market when the purple creature attacked. A group of us watched, united in awe and fear as a city that had stood for centuries was turned to rubble. In that moment, all my concerns felt so small. So ridiculous. It was horrible, but it gave me a valuable perspective. I think working in the camp, doing something I¡¯ve decided on, something with meaning, will be good for me.¡±

    She smiled ruefully. ¡°If it¡¯s easier, you can think of it as the whims of a spoiled noble.¡±

    ¡°No, not at all. I think it¡¯s quite admirable. I was simply surprised when I heard because¡­I also decided to help.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    The prince nodded emphatically. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do about the city or the Tome woman, but it¡¯d be a disgrace to turn away. The royal family is the kingdom¡¯s protectors. Whatever help my magic will be, I¡¯m willing to give it.¡±

    Her greens eyes lit up with her smile. ¡°Good on you, Samuel. A very princely attitude.¡±

    ¡°Please, it¡¯s nothing.¡±

    After their meal, Samuel walked Cecilia to the stairs before bidding her goodnight. Ewan waited until she was too far to hear a whisper before stepping up to the prince¡¯s side. ¡°I assume we will be heading back to the Caster Hall?¡±

    ¡°First thing in the morning.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-09

    Samuel had no experience with tragedy.

    The woes of the world couldn¡¯t penetrate the walls of the palace. Seated at the table where he took his lessons as a boy, misfortune was an academic thing, a concept that his tutors had picked apart. Samuel would never be king, but he was given a king¡¯s education. A ruler had to stand above it all, to see things from shore to shore rather than just what was in front of him.

    Conflict had a viral, creeping nature. Trouble flowed like a river and the more of it there was, the stronger its rapids. A king was above the petty concerns of the masses, but it was still better to actively stamp out problems, before the river flowed to the steps of the throne.

    That was how the prince planned to justify his service. And it was something he had to justify. His every action reflected back on his family. If people thought he was doing the work for the money, they would wonder if there was discord in the royal family or, worse, would lose confidence in the royal treasury. Similarly, if he made a point to peacocking his charity and giving spirit, it would boost their reputation.

    The constant posturing used to grate on his nerves but after doing it for so long, it was as reflexive as breathing. It also came with significant perks, such as eating a lavish breakfast while the people of Quest went through a small food crisis. All conversation revolved around the city and its future. Its piddling food stores were at the forefront of everyone¡¯s brain. The situation was somewhat stable thanks to the efforts of the Guiness family, who had exerted their power to make sure the price of grain didn¡¯t rise too high but despite the food remaining affordable, there simply wasn¡¯t enough. There were questions if the people would survive till the next harvest, but those couldn¡¯t survive within the opulent halls of the Gold Dorm.

    He hoped that he would spend the morning with Cecilia, the two of them taking comfort from each other as they rode through the ruined Quest to the camp, but she refused his invitation. The noblewoman had signed up for the duty as a team, something Samuel wasn¡¯t even aware was possible, and wanted to travel with them on the wagons offered by the Hall. Samuel was desperate enough to offer the strangers ride as well but Ewan ¡°strongly advised against it¡±. He considered four strangers in small confines with the prince a safety risk and safety was the one thing the royal knight would never compromise on.

    It all served to drastically dampen the prince¡¯s enthusiasm for the work. If it wouldn¡¯t have reflected so badly on him, he would have forgotten about it and returned to the Gold Dorm. No one would have blinked if he refused to help from the start but offering his aid and rescinding it before so much as laying an eye on the unfortunates wouldn¡¯t be taken well. As it was, he planned on working for two or three weekends before making up something about the work interfering with his classes, which might be truthful.

    After a full week of classes, he was in a foul mood as he rode to the camp. The sight of the ruined city soured further but his first glimpse of the camp ensured it wouldn¡¯t recover.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Samuel didn¡¯t expect a refugee camp to be glamorous by any measure but he did have some expectations. Order, primarily. Cleanliness and security. Given the time constraints and the severity of the crisis, it would be ridiculous to expect perfection but this was an operation ran by the Hall, a place filled with many of the kingdom¡¯s strongest and most knowledgeable minds. They inspired visions of excellence.

    Reality defied those expectations. His first sight of it brought to mind the poorest areas of the capital, where those without work, cripples, and criminals gathered, infesting the worn-down buildings like rats. The presence of uniform stone buildings suggested that someone started with good intentions but the mess that radiated outward from the implied order made it hard to spot. Makeshift tents, lean-tos, and simple blankets on the ground with no discernible start or end or even a proper boundary.

    Then there was the smell. It started with a faint whiff carried on the breeze but grew progressively worse. By the time they prepared to enter the camp, Samuel was pinching his nose to ward off the offensive odor of thousands of unwashed bodies and their waste.

    The path that ran through the middle of the camp without obstruction felt like a miracle. Two acolytes sat on stone seats to either side on the entrance and waved their carriage through without a word. He didn¡¯t know what responsibilities they were given but Samuel was sure they were failing in them.

    Being in the heart of the camp, a new layer of its misery was revealed; the people. An unsettling quiet hung over the surroundings. It seemed to have a weight that dragged them down; everywhere the prince looked, he saw long faces and sagging shoulders. Signs of violence were worrying prevalent and there wasn¡¯t a shred of energy to be found in their static bodies. Not even the children played, something that screamed of wrongness. No one laughed. No one smiled. No one seemed to care.

    Samuel expected rage and discontent. He expected loud voices demanding action. He prepared himself for turmoil. He had no idea what to make of the Abyss having apparently seeped into the world to rob the people of their spirits.

    Thankfully, the further into the camp they rode, the more it improved. Disorder gave way to structure, the tents set down in straight lines, neat row after row forming columns until columns formed blocks separated by fields filled with activity. Even the air was clearer, not so unbearable to breathe.

    Wooden signs directed them to a minimalistic stable and field where they parked their carriage, but there was little direction afterwards. Ewan recommended go to where he saw a mess line, as information and food came in pairs.

    The service they¡¯d witnessed riding in was still going on. Samuel ignored the glares on his back as he cut to the front of the line. ¡°You!¡± he shouted at the young man standing on the other side of the table, ladle in hand. ¡°Where do we receive assignments?¡±

    ¡°¡­whatever you want, get in line with everyone else.¡± The server tried to motion the next in line to approach but the acolyte remained where he was, hesitance coloring every angle of his body.

    Samuel stared down the server as the standstill dragged on. ¡°Are you finished wasting everyone¡¯s time?¡±

    ¡°Fine. Assignments are given out first thing, during shift change. Since your highness slept in, I guess you have to find talk to Watch Commander Filagree. That way, biggest tent around but don¡¯t look for something fancy. Boss didn¡¯t come to work expecting special treatment.¡±

    Samuel ignored the thinly veiled insults and hurried off, eager to get the day over with.

 Miniarc-Villains-10

    As his guide assured him, one tent stood out from the rest, only in size rather than luxury. Its position was also prominent, the center of the better organized area of the camp.

    It wasn¡¯t an officer¡¯s tent, of which Samuel had intimate knowledge of having been dragged along with his brother to immerse themselves in Dowager¡¯s fascination with all things related to war. It was standard for the noble officers to have better accommodations than their soldiers, though Dowager admired the officers of common backgrounds who usually insisted on being the same as their men. The kind of personality that wouldn¡¯t give a lick of Samuel¡¯s title. Fighting back a wave of dread, he waved for Ewan to announce them.

    ¡°Hello! Is anyone in residence?¡±

    ¡°Who the fuck is yelling when they should be working?¡± a gruff voice promptly responded. The tent flap was thrown open and a figure ducked out of the opening. The first thing Samuel noticed about them was their red hair; the unusually vibrant hue brought to mind visceral things, like blood and fire.

    The second thing he noticed was her scowl. Just as he examined the woman, she examined him. He noted the exact moment she recognized him. Her response to that recognition was the exact opposite of what he expected.

    ¡°Well? Why are you yelling?¡±

    Utter disregard. People always reacted to him, for good or ill. But there was something in the woman¡¯s tone that made him think she didn¡¯t give a damn about who he was. It was a bit unsettling, to be seen as only himself.

    The royal knight wasn¡¯t taken aback. ¡°The prince is here for his assignment,¡± Ewan continued smoothly in the face of her ire.

    ¡°Saints blessed asses. Is he even useful?¡±

    ¡°He is a dual affinity caster and is prepared to work.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but is he going to throw a fit the moment he gets a little dirt on his hands?¡±

    ¡°Excuse you,¡± Samuel said, offense overriding his first strange impression of the woman. ¡°You dare question my integrity? I gave my word to assist these people and that¡¯s what I intend to do.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Good for you. Just pick something you won¡¯t get tired of and get to work.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t explained what jobs there are.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got legs and eyes, don¡¯t you? Walk around, there are a hundred problems around here. One of which is my lack of sleep. If you really can¡¯t figure it out, talk to a guy called Lane and he¡¯ll sort it. Oh, and don¡¯t you dare interrupt my people with any royal bullshit. We don¡¯t have enough hands as it is. The last thing I need is them running off because a prince is making their lives difficult.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it? You can¡¯t just¡­¡± Samuel trailed off as the redhead turned her back on them, disappearing back into her tent with a dismissive wave of her hand. The prince turned to his guard with wide eyes. ¡°Can she do that?¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°She just did. Look at the bright side, your highness. Now you can ensure that you get the assignment you want.¡±

    That was a significant benefit. Enough that Samuel was willing to forgive the woman¡¯s abrupt behavior. Against his predictions, he had lucked out with a sensible instructor. ¡°We should find a guide.¡±

    Ewan scanned the area and Samuel followed him. There were plenty of acolytes in the area but all of them were in motion, clearly occupied with their own tasks.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s better to wander about on our own. The one restriction your superior gave you was not to bother any others. It would be unfortunate if she rescinded your freedom.¡±

    ¡°I suppose.¡± His tone was full of reluctance as he thought about the size of the camp.

    ¡°We can start on this side of the camp, as it is sure to have the more favorable positions.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.¡±

    The two of them set off, roaming between the tents as they searched for an opportunity for the prince to fulfill his obligation. The first thing they came across was a group of acolytes expanding the camp. It was simple work, but judging from the color of the group¡¯s robes, only those with earth affinities were welcome.

    The next thing they stumbled upon seemed to be a cooking operation. They certainly looked like they needed the help, the half a dozen acolytes juggling twice as many pots over open flames, but Samuel couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it. He could justify helping the refugees as something honorable, but meal prepping was servant work. Some noblewomen took up cooking as a hobby but even then, it was usually baking so they could present their lovers with cute sweets that matched their embroidered handkerchiefs. Only old matrons stirred great big pots and ladled soup into bowls by the dozens. It was demeaning, physically demanding, and, worse, boring.

    One of the women in the group met his eyes as he passed but he quickly turned away, quickening his pace before he was dragged into a scene.

    The third place they found was a field hospital. Normally, the sound of wet coughs and the smell of sickness would drive him off, but one sight trumped all of that; Cecilia tending to one of the patients. He almost didn¡¯t recognize her with her hair pulled into a tight bun and dressed in simple clothing, a plain brown dress with a stained apron covering her front.

    Samuel immediately headed to the large makeshift tent, frantically searching for someone who appeared to be in charge. His gaze zeroed in on a man about his age standing behind a group of three others who looked distinctly uncomfortable as they addressed a bedridden man with a large bruise on one side of his face.

    ¡°Are you in¡ª"

    Samuel was stopped by the man¡¯s raised hand. There was something so final about the gesture, the prince was silenced before he could think to question it. For a moment. When he realized what had happened, he scowled in annoyance. ¡°You! I¡¯m addressing you!¡±

    The man sighed and pinched his nose. ¡°You three! Find out what¡¯s wrong with him. When I come back, you better have started on his treatment or know who you should be giving the problem to. You two¡ª" Samuel sneered as the man pointed to him and Ewan. ¡°Come here.¡±

    Samuel was far from happy being ordered about but the man was moving before he finished talking, leaving the prince little choice but to follow. They didn¡¯t go far, or even somewhere private, the man stopping beside an empty bed with patients on either side of it. From what Samuel saw, it was the freest space in the hospital.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± the man demanded.

    The prince cleared his throat. ¡°I am¡ª"

    ¡°What. Do. You. Want?¡± the man bit out, cutting him off again.

    ¡°Do you not have any manners?¡±

    ¡°No. I also don¡¯t have the time or the energy for whatever this is so you either tell me what you want or get out of my face.¡±

    ¡°You¡ª"

    A hand on his shoulder stopped Samuel and Ewan jumped into the silence. ¡°He is a dual affinity air and water caster who wants to help.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say that first?!¡± The man¡¯s entire demeanor changed, his dark sullen eyes brightening and his glower turning into a smile. The prince flinched, and he noticed his guard tense, as the man grabbed his shoulders. ¡°Come with me.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-11

    Samuel¡¯s hopes of finding a job he wouldn¡¯t find entirely offensive were quickly dashed. The man he randomly accosted, Abott, was in charge of the hospital. He had the final word in its operation and he decided that Samuel would be best utilized doing work just as demeaning as slaving over a hot fire.

    The prince was placed with the launderers.

    He was glad that he wouldn¡¯t be in contact with the patients, eliminating the risk of catching the sickness he¡¯d been hearing about, but that didn¡¯t make him feel better about washing undergarments and soiled clothes. However, his efforts to dispute it fell on death ears. Abott made it clear that if he didn¡¯t want to do the work given to him, he could get out, something Samuel was unwilling to do.

    One thing made it bearable; the prince didn¡¯t have to handwash the clothes. The basins the clothes were washed had wooden arms that moved with the water. Samuel didn¡¯t know how it worked but all he had to do was keep the water churning and the clothes washed themselves. Another acolyte prepared the loads and added a strange powder the prince assumed was some kind of soap. They even provided the spell, though he could manage something so simple on his own.

    Once he got the hang of it, Samuel was working three basins but the mountain of clothes never ended. He wondered if he were laundering for the entire camp until a closer look revealed that it wasn¡¯t just clothes, but bandages, sheets, blankets, and anything else with a stitch in it being cleaned. He questioned the acolyte assisting him where it all came from and was shocked to learn it was just from the hospital. The acolyte continued to rant about the resources the hospital consumed. There was never enough, and its demands grew daily.

    It was late in the afternoon when the prince began to feel mana strain. His fellows told him he was done for the day, but he could work in the hospital itself if he wanted to give more of his time. Samuel promptly refused, slight embarrassed that he¡¯d gotten so caught up in the work. Ewan made himself useful hauling the clean laundry to the hanging lines. Together, they made fast progress and Samuel had been lulled into a productive trance.

    As soon as he was free, the prince went in search of Cecilia but one look at her busy figure told him she wouldn¡¯t appreciate him making himself a bother. There was nothing else to do but go home. When he returned to the launderers to report as much, he was prompted to have a meal. It wasn¡¯t amazing fare, but it was free and filling, the two things most acolytes cared about. It was a long ride back to the Hall on an empty stomach, long enough the prince decided it was better to eat at least a little of the simple food.

    Once more, he cut to the front of the line after grabbing a bowl and spoon. No one seemed happy but the server gave him his portion of stew and a limp roll without fuss. While Ewan received his food, Samuel¡¯s eyes reflexively scanned the crowd, the action of a seasoned socialite. He was surprised when his gaze landed on a familiar face, one he wasn¡¯t entirely happy to see. Samuel debated with himself for several moments but decided to approach.

    His target was oblivious to the prince¡¯s approach until Samuel was close enough to shadow him. Robert Quintana looked up from his untouched food and Samuel was unnerved to see the absent gaze of the refugees on the usually optimistic boy.

    Robert had a special place within the social strata of the capital. He had common origins, his father being a simple guard and his mother an artist of little renown until her son started to garner attention. To date, he had accomplished nothing of note, his greatest claim to fame winning a small martial tournament as a boy. Anyone else wouldn¡¯t be worthy of any noble¡¯s attention, let alone a prince.

    However, the aspiring hero was unlike anyone else.

    Robert had four affinities. He vividly remembered his mother explaining the reason why a common boy was being introduced to them. Casters were a minority in the kingdom. There were no extensive studies on the subject but his mother told him that two in every five people learned some kind of magic. Of those, one in a hundred received proper training, either through an apprenticeship or through the Hall.

    Of those, one in every thousand had dual basic affinities, one in every ten thousand had dual affinities that included a greater affinity, and maybe one in a generation would be born with three affinities. Someone born with four affinities? It wasn¡¯t unheard of, but it was so rare, even in the oldest of their histories, its occurrence was considered a miracle.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    He was of little import in the present, but he was all but guaranteed to be a powerhouse in the future. If he were determined, he had all the advantages to become the most powerful caster in the kingdom. Religion didn¡¯t have much sway over the people, but the few notable devout thought Robert was blessed by the saints, destined to be the next saint and lead Harvest into a golden era.

    It made sense that the king would be interested in the boy. Very interested. Boundaries had to be maintained but Robert had a standing invitation to any event hosted by the crown. He visited the palace often, lunching with the royal heirs. Sometimes, he attended dinner.

    Both princes were encouraged to befriend him. Dowager had the most luck in that regard, the two swordsmen bonding over their fascination with martial arts. Bastian never stood a chance, as Robert objected to everything the prince embodied. He and Samuel never got on well, but they were cordial.

    The prince wasn¡¯t amused by the aspiring heroes moral ambitions, especially when Robert decided to impose them on the rest of the world. Samuel was sure the younger man wasn¡¯t impressed with him either. Respect and foresight kept them from saying a bad word to each other. No matter how liked he was, Robert couldn¡¯t speak against a prince without very good reason. For Samuel, he always kept in mind the very public discussions of the king¡¯s hope that Robert would join the royal knights as soon as tradition allowed and the private conversations around the dinner table of possibly marrying him to the youngest princess.

    There was little of the idealistic boy in the slouched figure Samuel looked down on. He looked the same, though his curly hair could do with a cut and his usually smooth face was sullied by a patchy, pitiful beard. His clothes looked like they hadn¡¯t been washed in a week and he smelled as if he hadn¡¯t touched a bath in just as long.

    The future hero looked unwell, if not in health than certainly in thought.

    Whatever his problems, he didn¡¯t forget his etiquette. Once he recognized who stood before him, he slowly climbed to his feet and bowed. ¡°Afternoon, Prince Samuel.¡±

    ¡°Bobby.¡± Samuel noticed with unease that Robert didn¡¯t react to his hated nickname. He always winced when someone called him something other than Quin. ¡°It¡¯s late, but I wanted to express my condolences,¡± the prince continued, lacking another reason to explain his approach. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what happened to Sebas.¡±

    ¡°Please, your highness. Those are my words. He was your family.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t pretend that our shared blood means that we were closer. The two of you spent every day together for months and were friends before then. You¡¯ve earned your grief.¡±

    ¡°Grief¡­¡± Robert sighed. ¡°Do you think you can forget an emotion?¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°I think you can. I used to be haunted by Sebas death. But then there was so much to grieve for, the feeling got lost under it all¡­¡±

    The prince stared at the other man, adjusting his estimation of Robert¡¯s mental state from unwell to unhealthy. ¡°The tragedy is appalling.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but it warms my heart to see the Hall coming to the aid of the people. There is evil in the world but evil inspires good. Even a prince is lending a hand.¡±

    Robert smiled and the prince saw traces of the boy he knew behind it. Samuel wondered what would happen if he confessed that he was only in the camp to impress his crush. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more than you think. These people think they¡¯ve been abandoned by the crown and saints both. Having you here, moving amongst them, caring for them, I¡¯m sure it will fill them with confidence. But you should return to the Hall before dark.¡±

    ¡°Why before dark?¡± Ewan interrupted. Samuel didn¡¯t mind because the same question was on the tip of his tongue.

    Robert blinked as he turned to the knight, his shock evident. If the prince didn¡¯t know better, he¡¯d say the younger man didn¡¯t know Ewan was there despite standing at Samuel¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Sir Reed, hello. I¡¯m thinking of the prince¡¯s safety. There has been unrest in the camp lately.¡±

    ¡°¡­is it a continuation of the recent conflict?¡±

    Samuel flinched at the expression Robert flashed. It was more than a scowl; there was barely repressed anger in the furrow of his brows, hateful disdain in the curl of his lips, and the promise of violence in his eyes. But only for a moment. In a blink, the expression was replaced by exhaustion.

    I suppose it is, in a way. The camp can be roughly divided into two camps; those that blame the Tome clan for the tragedy and those that blame everyone. The first group just wants to rebuild their homes while the second is interested in revenge. Neither side can accept the existence of the other and it¡¯s led to several fights. The second group also isn¡¯t picky about their targets. They enjoy sowing discord and take every opportunity to do so.¡±

    ¡°Nothing a prince should be around.¡±

    ¡°I see. Perhaps you should take your own advice, Bobby.¡± He looked like he needed a night away from the camp.

    Robert shook his head. ¡°No, the Watch needs all the help it can get. Speaking of, I better get back to it. Your highness, Sir Reed.¡±

    With another bow, Robert walked off without giving the other men a chance to say their own goodbyes. Samuel noted that he left his food on his seat.

 Miniarc-Villains-12

    Although Samuel never got the chance to speak with Cecilia during the day, she accepted his invitation for a late dinner. The conversation was lively, as they both had new experiences to convey. With some dismay, Samuel realized that the noblewoman¡¯s interest in helping others wasn¡¯t waning. It didn¡¯t bode well for his intentions to spend more time together; he wouldn¡¯t extend his time in the camp even if they were working side-by-side the entire time. It was already difficult to drag himself out of the Gold Dorm the next morning.

    He returned to the hospital and was put on laundering duty again. The work was easier, the loads not as large and staggered several minutes in-between. He had the presence of mind to stop for lunch and even managed a short chat with Cecilia.

    He finished early and decided to return without wasting time. He was walking along the main path that cut through the camp, his mind on irrelevant things when the world was rocked by a powerful sound that he could feel in his bones. At the same time, something knocked him to the ground, the weight resisting his reflex to roll to his feet.

    He didn¡¯t realize it was Ewan until the knight hissed, ¡°Stay down!¡±

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± the prince groused, but he was ignored. He fumed in silence until the pressure on his back receded. Samuel jumped to his feet, eyes scanning his surroundings.

    He only had a moment to note the three columns of black smoke rising at the front of the camp before he was being dragged away, forced into a sprint by the demanding knight. They ran for Alyssa¡¯s tent, finding the redhead standing outside it with a ring of acolytes in front of her. She looked up at their rapid approach and quickly dismissed the people in front of her. ¡°If you¡¯re here for answers I don¡¯t have them.¡±

    ¡°Miss Filagree. I will be commandeering some of your forces to properly defend this location. Preferably¡ª¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Ewan stopped short. ¡°You can¡¯t refuse. The prince¡¯s safety¡ª¡±

    ¡°Takes priority over literally thousands of lives? I don¡¯t think so, not for me. I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re in charge of protecting him. A royal knight in disguise, I¡¯d guess. If half the things I hear about you lot are true, you¡¯re more capable than any of the students I could muster.¡±

    ¡°I am ordering you to lend me the forces needed to secure the perimeter. The order of a royal knight in the defense of the crown or its heirs carries the authority of a royal decree!¡±

    ¡°Fuck your decree!¡± the redhead snarled. ¡°When the king gets his ass off his comfy throne to do my job, I¡¯ll give a shit about what he or any of his asskissers have to say. You can have my tent but that¡¯s all I can spare. If you don¡¯t like it, cut me down. Otherwise, I¡¯ve got work to do.¡±

    Samuel watched with wide-eyed shock at Alyssa¡¯s retreating back. He wasn¡¯t worried with Ewan at his side but one didn¡¯t simply ignore the crown. It was so unexpected it was almost amusing. The prince¡¯s amusement grew when the knight cursed. ¡°Saints damn it!¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°She has a point. I¡¯m sure you can defend me from whatever rabble is doing this.¡± A criminal¡¯s target said a lot about their personal strength. If they were capable, they would have gone for the acolytes. Instead, they chose the longest-hanging fruit, so to speak.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t the point,¡± Ewan practically growled. There is an order to things. Rules. If there are no rules, if anyone can decide what matters most at any given moment, it invites chaos. There is a reason there is a hierarchy in the army.¡±

    ¡°I agree but I¡¯m also surprised that you aren¡¯t running to help.¡±

    The knight scowled. ¡°Duty isn¡¯t something you do when it¡¯s easy or simple. It¡¯s something you do regardless of the circumstances. And my duty is to protect you. That woman had a duty as a citizen as well. She will be censored for abandoning it.¡±

    ¡°Well, we don¡¯t need her. Once we collect, Cecilia¡ª¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t leaving from this spot,¡± the knight interrupted with finality.

    Samuel frowned. ¡°The hospital is minutes away.¡±

    ¡°The protocol in this situation is clear. We create a defensible position and wait to the situation to stabilize.¡±

    ¡°Saints, man! She could be in trouble¡ª¡±

    ¡°If she is, then you will not be close to it.¡±

    ¡°I order¡ª¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Ewan sighed at the prince¡¯s scowl. ¡°Please do not make this difficult.¡±

    ¡°What will you do? Strike me down?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be harder to protect unconscious but it¡¯s better than actively putting your life at risk.¡±

    The two men stared each other down. Samuel¡¯s gut churned with dread as he realized that Ewan was serious, more than he¡¯d ever seen the man before. ¡°You won¡¯t get away with this.¡±

    ¡°I doubt I¡¯ll be punished for doing my job but I¡¯ll accept any punishments the crown deems necessary.¡±

    The crown, not Samuel. If it wasn¡¯t abundantly clear, the statement would have told the prince that he had no power in the situation. It was ridiculous. Samuel didn¡¯t know what the former soldier saw in their situation, but Samuel saw a disturbance that had already passed. There hadn¡¯t been any more explosions and the smoke was already dissipating. He was sure the acolytes could handle a few disgruntled commoners. In his mind, the conflict was already over.

    ¡°How long until you¡¯re satisfied?¡±

    ¡°Until Miss Filagree detains or neutralizes the threats.¡±

    ¡°Can I at least rest in the tent?¡±

    Ewan ignored his sarcastic tone, considering the question seriously. ¡°No. I apologize for the imposition, but I prefer you awake and alert just in case.¡±

    Samuel frowned. While he had stopped before the effects could become severe, mana strain had left his body sore. He desperately wanted to lie across soft cushions but the knight demanded he stay on his feet and alert. Samuel didn¡¯t know if he could do it for long, as each passing moment made him more uncomfortable.

    As the sun was starting to set, the prince¡¯s growling stomach interrupted the tension between them.

    Ewan¡¯s tense shoulders relaxed a little. ¡°Please bear with me a little longer.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t stand here all night.¡±

    Without an imminent threat to lend him strength, the knight crumpled under Samuel¡¯s glare. ¡°I suppose it¡¯d be alright for you to rest some. If someone passes, I¡¯ll have them fetch you something to eat.¡±

    The prince didn¡¯t bother to gloat about being right, quickly slipping into the tent before Ewan¡¯s paranoia got the best of him. The inside was cramped and cluttered but Samuel only had eyes for the long bed roll in the center. He climbed onto it with a groan of relief, unbothered by the faint hint of sweat that clung to the fabric. In moments, he was dragged into a pleasant slumber.

    It felt like barely a second had passed when something jostling his shoulder woke him. Samuel startled awake, eyes squinting in the darkness as he tried to make out the features of the shadow looming over him. The darkness quickly resolved into the face of Ewan, watching him with a stern frown.

    ¡°A terrible response, your highness. Falling asleep in a dangerous situation is foolish.¡±

    ¡°¡­I was confident that I would wake up if you were forced to act.¡± Samuel pushed hissed as he stretched his sore body. ¡°Is it over?¡±

    ¡°Miss Filagree has returned.¡±

    ¡°¡­don¡¯t start a problem.¡±

    ¡°There is already a problem. Our presence is being requested.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-13

    Samuel wasn¡¯t surprised to find the camp in one piece after exiting the tent. The ominous clouds of smoke had dissipated and there was nothing of note in the distance. A crowd of acolytes surrounded the tent, but none of the stern faces seemed worried. Every subtle sign said that the danger, if it existed in the first place, had passed.

    No expression was sterner than Alyssa¡¯s scowl. The redhead waited for him to emerge with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. Green, just like Cecilia¡¯s, though they were darker. A brooding green, if such a thing were possible.

    ¡°Did you have a good nap?¡± she hissed once the tent¡¯s flap closed behind him.

    Truthfully, falling asleep was embarrassing. Samuel was confident that there was no danger and he felt perfectly safe with Ewan around, but dozing off in the middle of a crisis, even a perceived one, didn¡¯t look good. Despite his feelings, it wasn¡¯t her place to point it out. ¡°It was adequate,¡± he snarked back.

    ¡°Please explain the situation in detail,¡± Ewan interrupted before their disagreement cold escalate.

    ¡°Cheh. It¡¯s a situation alright. I¡¯ll skip to the relevant parts. Someone, or more likely someones, set off three small bombs in the camp. They were barely more than sparks. A couple tents caught fire but that didn¡¯t do anything either. The real damage came from people panicking. It¡¯s taken hours to calm them down.

    ¡°The people responsible got away. Before you say anything, I want to see you catch a handful of people in a crowd of hundreds all trying to flee and fight at the same time. Though, it¡¯s not all bad news. We¡¯ve secured the road, checking it for any traps and assigning extra hands to keep it clear. The prince can go at his leisure.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°It is¡­something.¡± The knight matched Alyssa¡¯s intensity as he stared her down. ¡°But far from acceptable. Rebels have conducted an attack on the citizens of this kingdom and endangered the life of the prince¡ª¡±

    ¡°One of those is an exaggeration.¡±

    ¡°¡ªand your response is to shrug your shoulders and hope they don¡¯t do it again? To run away? I expect more from the elites of the Hall.¡±

    Alyssa scoffed. ¡°The elites? The elites want nothing to do with this cesspool. The people here are desperate children who signed up for good intentions and a quick coin with no idea what they were really getting into. Shame on them for not performing to your standards.¡±

    ¡°If you cannot handle the job, perhaps you should be replaced.¡±

    ¡°Are you offering? Cause I¡¯d love to hand you this shit heap. Just as soon as you march your knightly ass up to the Hall and bring back orders from the Grandmaster because I don¡¯t answer to you. And I don¡¯t like you. All you lily-assed capital bastards are all the same, throwing your nonexistent weight around.¡±

    ¡°Boss, please.¡±

    An unassuming man with dark hair and a plain face stepped forward, putting a hand on Alyssa¡¯s shoulder. His most distinctive feature was his height but despite it, he didn¡¯t give the impression of looking down on anyone. If Samuel had to describe him in one word, it would be meek. Or, if he were being charitable, friendly.

    ¡°No one¡¯s happy about this, but arguing with each other isn¡¯t going to help. We have less than a hundred people trying to keep order over thousands. No one¡¯s cooperating with us, criminal or not. Worse, these aren¡¯t the usual thugs and bandits. These are trained professionals: hunters, alchemists, craftsmen. Some of the best the city had to offer with nothing to lose and a whole lot of reasons to be angry. They¡¯re capable and they¡¯re organized.¡±

    ¡°Very organized,¡± Alyssa continued, visibly forcing down her ire. ¡°Smart, capable, and well-informed. The bombs were distractions. Once all our forces were preoccupied handling the chaos in the camp, they hit our food stores, cleaned us out.¡±

    ¡°Food is the most important thing in a crisis,¡± Ewan said. ¡°Nothing motivates people like an empty stomach. It¡¯ll ensure the loyalty of the rebels and entice others to join them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll also inconvenience us. The camp was already rationing. Forget finding the idiots who did this. Our most pressing problem is going to be keeping people fed.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°The worrying part is that no acolytes were harmed,¡± the plain man added. ¡°Not that I wish they were. It¡¯s just¡ª¡±

    ¡°If they were, the Hall would have fallen on these idiots like a hammer,¡± Alyssa interrupted, biting out the words. ¡°Casters are a selfish bunch but these kids have friends and family on that rock. Not even the shittiest instructor is going to sit by and do nothing if their students are being slaughtered while trying to do good. But they can easily turn their gaze away from the commoners. Saints¡¯ blessed asses, there were plenty who disagreed with helping the refugees in the first place and have been fighting the drain on the Hall¡¯s resources. They¡¯re going to fight all the harder to shut us down now.¡±

    ¡°I see. They wouldn¡¯t abide a threat to themselves but so long as it¡¯s someone else¡¯s problem, they¡¯re content to leave things be.¡± Ewan nodded gravely. ¡°I agree. That is a course of action that requires a firm understanding of people, an intellectual mind, and foresight. Abilities far beyond the average criminal.¡±

    He sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll apologize for my hasty judgment. These are not normal saboteurs. However, that abnormality makes it more important that they are stopped. Threats such as these do not become easier to remove with time. They cannot be allowed to fester.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure. But we need people trained to do that. People prepared to put their lives on the line. Soldiers. It¡¯s a miracle these kids haven¡¯t already run off but they can¡¯t do this and they shouldn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°¡­I can send a report to the capital but it will be weeks before reinforcements arrive. In the meantime, there are two royal knights and a squadron of soldiers in the capital. I have them assist you but they will be under my command and their activities will be restricted to investigating the rebels.¡±

    ¡°Fuck. Can¡¯t say I don¡¯t want more but I¡¯ll take what I can get. If they need anything, come find me or Lane.¡±

    The man, Lane, waved. ¡°If you¡¯ve got a few moments, I can give you a quick briefing. Nothing solid, but we¡¯ve got a few ideas and rumors we¡¯re working off of.¡±

    ¡°That would be good. Your highness¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to the hospital.¡±

    The knight seemed troubled. Samuel could easily imagine what was going through his mind; he couldn¡¯t leave the prince alone, but he was also interested in the briefing. Without an imminent threat to their lives, Samuel was once again his superior.

    ¡°I¡¯ll follow,¡± Lane offered, ending Ewan¡¯s dilemma. The knight had too much control to let his relief show but Samuel knew him well enough to know the gesture raised his estimation of Lane considerably.

    ¡°That¡¯s decided. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Samuel didn¡¯t wait for either man to respond before walking off. His certainty that the spectacle was nothing more than a prank had been shaken by the revelation that the rebels had penetrated the heart of the camp. If their goal was to sow chaos, sabotaging the hospital was a good way to accomplish it.

    He moved as quickly as decorum would allow. Admiringly, the acolytes within were still tending to their patients. Cecilia wasn¡¯t amongst them. A few pointed questions directed him around the back of the tent. A quiet corner had been made from stacked crates and raised earth.

    He found the source of his affection seated between two others on a bench made of packed earth, her face turned to a young man. Samuel¡¯s brows twitched as he took in sight of her hand resting on his shoulder. He thought that he kept his emotions off his face but his dissatisfaction seeped int his body language, tightening his shoulders and balling his fists. It drew the attention of the small group and they quieted when they realized who was among them.

    Cecilia was one of the last to notice him. Not for the first time, Samuel wished he had the mental affinity and the loose morals to use it with impunity. He wanted to know what lurked behind her trained expressions. Normally, the doubt was a quiet voice he needed no effort to ignore but suddenly, it was a struggle not to think too much about her relieved smile.¡±

    ¡°Your highness! I¡¯m glad to see you in good health.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. It¡¯s a relief that everyone is alright,¡± the prince said while raising his voice for the group to hear. It was a small bit of theatre, the caring prince concerned about the people. Most ignored it. He didn¡¯t hear the few muttered responses as Cecilia discretely pulled him away.

    Once they were far enough that a whisper wouldn¡¯t be easily overheard, her beaming smile waned, trading size for warmth. Samuel wondered if it was a natural transition or an actress putting away a mask with practiced ease.

    ¡°Forgive me. I would have been here sooner but¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to explain. Ewan would be a failure of an escort if he allowed you to put yourself in danger.¡± She looked over his shoulder and waved at the knight standing a respectful distance away, chatting with Lane.

    ¡°I was sure there was no danger, else I would have insisted.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, but your insistence would have amounted to nothing.¡± The words stung but he couldn¡¯t deny them. ¡°The thought is enough, but if you insist on feeling guilty, there is something you can do to make it up to me.¡±

    Despite his bitter feelings, Samuel chuckled. ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°I was hoping for a ride to the Hall. The troublemakers destroyed the wagons that ferried the acolytes. There¡¯s the option to spend the night but I don¡¯t fancy sharing a bedroll with a stranger.¡± Her hand alighted on his shoulder, much like it had on her colleague earlier. Was she always so physical? He didn¡¯t think so. ¡°Don¡¯t worry if it¡¯s an imposition.¡±

    ¡°No such thing. Rather, it¡¯d be my pleasure.¡± It was a relief to see that her charitable work wasn¡¯t pushing her down the road of a saint. Samuel was far from a perfect man and doubted he could live up to such ideals. What she called selfishness only elevated her charm in his eyes¡­usually. Today, his love was bittersweet.

    ¡°Great. Can I beg a few moments to say goodbyes?¡±

    ¡°Take all the time you need.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-14

    Samuel tried to convince himself that the source of his tension was riding through the ruined city, but it was a hard illusion to maintain. Despite earlier events, it was a peaceful night. The presence of a royal knight on the driver¡¯s bench made it difficult to cultivate a sense of danger.

    He had to face reality; the source of his tension was inside his carriage, namely the noblewoman seated across from him.

    Cecilia bore no fault, she was her usual pleasant self. She had engaged him in idle chatter once their journey began, carrying the conversation until his responses grew short and terse. When it was clear he wasn¡¯t interested, she easily dropped said conversation, turning her face and closing her eyes so he wouldn¡¯t be burdened by her attention.

    Her consideration meant nothing. The prince¡¯s discontent roiled in his guts until it bubbled up and out of his mouth. He knew the words were a mistake before he spoke, but they tumbled out with the inevitable force of a natural disaster.

    ¡°Is there any chance you will ever love me?¡±

    The words were like a spell, taking the tension within him and manifesting it. Cecilia¡¯s shoulders tightened, the only sign his words affected her. In contrast, her smile was soft.

    ¡°You know I care for you.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Since there was no turning back, the prince decided to plow forward without restraint. ¡°Don¡¯t do that. You¡¯re¡­handling me and I¡¯m tired of it.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re tired?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Is this constant dance not exhausting?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I agree. I just¡­¡±

    Samuel frowned as she covered her mouth, smothering a sound. Did she just¡­laugh at him? No, it couldn¡¯t be. More likely it was a sound of distress she¡¯d muffled not to ruin the moment. When she lowered her hand, there was no trace of amusement in her face.

    ¡°I thought you were comfortable with how things are.¡±

    ¡°How could I be? I¡¯ve been running after something that is always beyond my reach. Even hope can chafe after too long.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve made no secret of my feelings.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you? You reject a relationship, but you accept every invitation, every gift, and every kind word. You followed me to the Hall, for saints¡¯ sake! Is it so hard to fathom that these gestures might confuse me? Tact only goes so far.¡±

    Cecilia shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not tact, your highness. It¡¯s duty.¡±

    Samuel flexed his jaw in an effort to release some of his rising frustration. ¡°I understand that your family is overbearing, but you are not wilting flower or uneducated country bumpkin. You¡¯re a capable woman with means. You choose to be around me, to¡­encourage me. And if it¡¯s not to see our relationship to a natural conclusion, then I would like to know why.¡±

    Cecilia sighed, the sound filled with strained patience. It brought to mind a parent humoring a particularly annoying child. ¡°If there is anything the tragedies of the city has taught me, it¡¯s that we don¡¯t have the time to waste on games. If this is what you want, then I¡¯ll honor your request to speak openly.¡±

    ¡°Of course this is what I want,¡± Samuel snapped out, ignoring his doubts.

    One of her hands rose, fingers massaging her brow. ¡°Very well. You¡¯re right. As an educated noblewoman, I have more options than most. But what exactly am I equipped for, your highness? Am I supposed to get a proper job and earn a proper wage? Then I¡¯ll marry a proper man and raise a proper family, I suppose. A proper life. Is that what you¡¯re imagining when you speak of my options?¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    He hated how the longer she spoke, the more sarcasm slipped into her voice. ¡°Something of the sort. You could choose anything, yet you choose me, again and again.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I choose you, Samuel. It¡¯s that I refuse the alternative. You might not have noticed, because it is your norm, but we are pampered creatures, you and I. What use do I have for proper and sensible? No, I want the best. I want the softest sheets, the most amazing food prepared by hands other than my own, the finest wines, and to dance in expensive dresses. I want to live in a beautiful home on a beautiful estate. Most importantly, I want the time and freedom to enjoy those things.¡±

    ¡°¡­I could care for you. I would.¡±

    ¡°Freedom, your highness. I have no doubt that I would be comfortable as your wife¡­when I¡¯m allowed to be. Such a position comes with expectations.¡±

    ¡°I see. I didn¡¯t realize you found the thought of being with me so burdensome,¡± he ground out, crossing his arms over his broad chest. ¡°What exactly about me do you find so repugnant?¡±

    ¡°Please, Samuel. You asked for this conversation. Do me the courtesy of listening to my words before assuming insult. It¡¯s not you. It¡¯s never been you. Otherwise, I would already be married. Do you think you¡¯re the only man who¡¯s proposed to me? My father has tried to arrange a marriage for years.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­¡± He trailed off, struggling to put his confusion into words. ¡°What are you objecting to?¡±

    She scoffed. Truly scoffed, the gesture filled with rare disdain. ¡°Yes, why would a woman object to marriage and mothering? It¡¯s what we¡¯re all here for, isn¡¯t it? Who wouldn¡¯t want calluses on their hands and feet from working long days, every day?

    ¡°What I object to is all of it. I want my life to be about me. I want to give of myself when I want and only as much as I want. I want to do what I want whenever the mood strikes me.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a selfish creature, but even I realize my dreams are impossible. The cruel truth of it is, I¡¯m an economical woman. I cultivate relationships that give me the most for the little I¡¯m willing to give. I want to be your friend and you don¡¯t push me to be more. That is what I choose, Samuel.¡±

    The prince shook his head. ¡°Just as we¡¯re talking now, we can talk about¡­everything. I¡¯d never want to make you uncomfortable. You can¡¯t assume what I¡¯m willing to accept.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t?¡± Her green eyes fluttered as she lowered her voice. ¡°Don¡¯t you want me, Samuel?¡±

    Hot embarrassment flushed his face as her soft whispers tickled his ears. ¡°Cecilia?¡±

    ¡°You asked me to speak plainly. I¡¯m asking you to do the same.¡±

    ¡°This is what I mean about confusing me. That isn¡¯t something you should be saying to anyone you aren¡¯t interested in.¡±

    ¡°But I must. It¡¯s the root of our problem. You are fully capable of providing the life I want but you expect certain things in return, don¡¯t you? You want to touch me and you want me to touch you and you want me to want it like you want it. Don¡¯t you?¡±

    Samuel pressed his lips together. The obvious answer to her question was yes. He wasn¡¯t ashamed of it. His desires were very healthy. He wanted the same thing every man wanted. Yet, he knew that answer would anger Cecilia. He also didn¡¯t know why so he could do nothing to soothe that ire. It was frustrating, bordering on irritating.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for that look. I¡¯m not saying you¡¯re wrong to want those things. I¡¯m the problem. You may think my feelings are irrational or childish, my father certainly does. Doesn¡¯t do anything to change them.¡±

    She spread her hands in a hapless gesture. ¡°You¡¯re a good man, Samuel. You would be good for me. But I have no passion for marriage and can¡¯t marry for security alone. It isn¡¯t in me.¡±

    A delicate way of saying she didn¡¯t feel any passion for him either. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to be¡­restricted, why did you encourage the attentions of Lourianne Tome.¡±

    ¡°Is it not obvious? I watched the way she treated Alana James when they were simply friends. Lou is a considerate woman of great means. I admit, I meant to take advantage of that nature. Better, she would have enjoyed allowing me to do so, I think.¡±

    ¡°So, she was simply convenient. And so was I. Is that all people are to you? Tools that you use or abandon depending on their cost?¡±

    Cecilia shook her head. ¡°I want you to be my friend. I want us to be able to enjoy our similar interests without your desires smothering what could be a wonderful connection. Unfortunately, what I want never mattered. Even now, this conversation is about soothing your heart.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­¡± Samuel once again found himself at a loss of words. Her accusation was correct, he wasn¡¯t thinking of her at all when he vented his feelings. She had never asked him for anything. He assumed he was giving her what she wanted because she never said no.

    Samuel frequently wished he could know her better, but he was starting to think he¡¯d never known her at all.

    Cecilia left him to stew in his emotions, once more closing her eyes as she turned away. Like that, they passed the rest of the ride in silence.

 Miniarc-Villains-15

    The silence continued for a week.

    Samuel told himself that he needed time to think of the heavy conversation he shared with Cecilia, which wasn¡¯t quite a lie. Even with days of turning her revelations over, the prince struggled to relate to her struggles. He could understand if she said wasn¡¯t attracted to him or that she wanted something specific he couldn¡¯t give her. Instead, the greatest object to his love was a nebulous resentment of commitment, no less sturdy for the shallow logic behind it. If there was an answer, it was beyond him.

    However, he didn¡¯t think of it much. There were plenty of distractions from his unrequited love. As always, his classes were intensive and the mana strain after the practical lessons meant early nights. His mind was preoccupied up until the following Restday, the long ride to the camp. Ewan insisted on sitting on the driver¡¯s bench to watch for trouble so the prince¡¯s only company was his thoughts.

    He was surprised to find the camp in the same condition as last weekend. The Hall¡¯s gossip machine was powerful and he¡¯d kept his ear out for news about the city. There had been a lot more conflict in the ruins. Thieves abounded and the guards were nonexistent. He expected the turmoil to spread to the camp, but the heavy presence of the Hall seemed to be an effective barrier against the growing unrest.

    Ewan wasn¡¯t thrilled about returning. As he promised, a royal knight and a half dozen soldiers had taken up residence in the camp to assist with the investigation. It said something about the rebels that they could avoid such scrutiny. However, their lack of activity showed that they weren¡¯t confident against the veterans. They might not have caught the criminals, but Ewan was assured of the prince¡¯s safety.

    Nothing seemed amiss as they parked the carriage. Samuel considered finding another place to work but soon found himself walking toward the hospital. He dreaded his next conversation with Cecilia but, as always, was powerfully drawn to her. He also didn¡¯t mind his laundering duties and preferred returning to them over risking ending up with a worse assignment.

    Abott welcomed his presence. He also had no problem assigning Samuel the same duty. A new mountain of soiled cloth awaited him. The routine and familiarity drew the prince into a trance, his mind drifting far from the activity; namely, what he would say to Cecilia when they inevitably encountered one another. By the end of his shift, he hadn¡¯t come up with anything that satisfied his worsening nerves so he did his best to avoid her, hurrying off for a bite to eat before he returned to the Hall.

    Once more, a familiar face waited on one of the earth seats that dotted the edge of the field where the acolytes were served. Robert seemed a lot more interested in his food, shoveling large spoonfuls of the stew so quickly it was worrisome. While his appetite improved, he looked worse for wear. The bandage over his nose and the bruised skin around his right eyes painted the picture of a ruffian that had recently come out of the bad end of a brawl.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The ruckus the previous week on his mind, Samuel took an interest in his circumstances and made his way over.

    ¡°Your highness! We keep meeting like this.¡±

    ¡°Afternoon, Bobby.¡± The prince waved for the younger man to retake his seat after he stood to bow. ¡°You look like you ran in trouble.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Robert¡¯s hand gently touched his bandage. ¡°Things are a little rough in the camp.¡±

    ¡°Is it the rebels?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. At least I haven¡¯t dealt with anything connected to them. There¡¯s a lot of anger in the people. Yelling, fights, things get broken up. Boss is offering extra shifts to anyone that will take them to patrol the camp. Reminds of me of when I would follow Father to work when I was younger, haha. Oh, if you¡¯re interested, the day shift is better than the night. The troublemakers are more secretive at night and it¡¯s hard to stay alert. I much rather face direct problems with a clear mind. Forgive me, I¡¯m rambling.¡±

    ¡°No need. I asked and it¡¯s good for me to stay informed.¡±

    ¡°You could see it for yourself.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going back out on patrol after I finish. You could accompany me.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be returning to the Hall soon?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t leave over the weekend. It¡¯s easier that way.¡±

    Samuel frowned. ¡°Your dedication to service is admirable but remember moderation. The camp is important but it shouldn¡¯t come at the expense of yourself. Your studies need to be your main focus. Whatever you can offer these people now pales in comparison to what you will do for the whole kingdom once properly trained. You can¡­¡± He could be more than Samuel could ever dream of. To see that talent wasted in pursuit of charity would be an offense against the world.

    Robert laughed but there was little humor in the sound, a condition that was growing more common. ¡°I know. But I have to work hard, harder than anyone. I¡¯ve wasted enough time.¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡± Samuel didn¡¯t think working himself into the ground was a good idea or particularly impressive, but he didn¡¯t like his chances of swaying the young hero from his path. ¡°I¡¯ll have to refuse your invitation. My presence would cause more problems than it¡¯d solve.¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡± Robert didn¡¯t jump as the royal knight made himself known, proving he was not as oblivious as he was during their previous conversation. ¡°Don¡¯t push yourself too hard, Robert. Too much effort can be detrimental. If you lack guidance, we can assist you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. It¡¯s a kind offer, but I wouldn¡¯t want to put you out. If the soldiers have any spare time, I would rather they give it to the city.¡± Robert drained the rest of his bowl and jumped to his feet. ¡°I should get back to it. Let Boss know if you change your mind, we can always use more hands.¡±

    ¡°¡­there is something wrong with him,¡± Samuel muttered as he watched the young hero run off.

    ¡°Something wrong enough that we must intervene?¡±

    ¡°You tell me. The king won¡¯t be happy if the next captain of the royal knights gets himself killed cleaning up after commoners. He needs a reminder of his priorities.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s never understood them. Bobby has always struggled with his love of heroism and Sir Quintana indulges him. Unfortunately, he¡¯s the only one the boy listens to.¡±

    ¡°Send a letter, for all the good it¡¯ll do. At least no one will be able to accuse us of not doing or due diligence. It¡¯s also another reason to hurry home.¡±

    Ewan chuckled. ¡°As you wish, your highness.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-16

    ¡°Are you done avoiding me?¡±

    Samuel¡¯s luck avoiding Cecilia didn¡¯t extend into Saintsday. A few hours into his shift, he took a break in the waiting area he found before, taking advantage of its emptiness. It didn¡¯t remain so for long. Scant minutes after he¡¯d started relaxing, the noblewoman rounded the wall of crates. Samuel froze as they met each other¡¯s gaze. Ewan, who had been perched on the seat next to the prince, quietly stepped away.

    Cecilia acted first, taking the abandoned seat. She looked far more comfortable than Samuel, whose guts roiled with dread. Her calm wasn¡¯t helping.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t avoiding you. I needed time to think.¡±

    She sighed. ¡°As I said before, none of us has the time we think we do. If there¡¯s something you want to say, you should say it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem. I don¡¯t know what to say. How could I when I don¡¯t know what we are.¡±

    ¡°What we are is simple, two people that have known each other since childhood and care for one another. I would hope the foundation of the past could survive the turmoil of the present.¡±

    Samuel shook his head. She couldn¡¯t know what she was asking. ¡°You said the two of us are similar. Maybe so, because I¡¯m a selfish man. I don¡¯t want to hurt you, but I can¡¯t command my heart to stop feeling. You don¡¯t have to accept my love, but I can¡¯t pretend I¡¯ll be satisfied with friendship.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d prefer nothing?¡±

    If he could have anything he wished, he¡¯d want to be someone that could move on. He¡¯d prefer being someone she could love. ¡°It¡¯s the only thing I could survive.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see. Thank you for being honest with me. And yourself, I suppose.¡± She stretched and he had to tear his gaze away from her chest.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d be more upset.¡±

    ¡°Why should I be?¡±

    ¡°¡­I guess you don¡¯t care for me that much.¡±

    She turned to him, eyes shining with amusement as she cradled her chin in her palm. ¡°Because, my dear prince, I¡¯m changing. And if we are the same, that means that you can change too. Maybe we¡¯ll have to part for a time, but it¡¯ll be worth it for a stronger friendship in the future.¡±

    ¡°When you say it like that, you make me sound irrational.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Who am I to judge? I¡¯m no saint to pass judgment on others. Besides, a feeling doesn¡¯t have to be rational. There are plenty of irrational things in the world. Look at the city. Everything about what happened to Quest is irrational, but we still must accept it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate being compared to that madwoman.¡±

    ¡°What is it the bards say? Love makes madmen of us all. You aren¡¯t wrong, Samuel. Nor are you alone, in the world. I will have to leave you alone for a while.¡± She chuckled as she climbed to her feet. ¡°My friends were going to join me here, but we¡¯ll have to find somewhere else to spend our break. You shouldn¡¯t be seen like this.¡±

    ¡°I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please, Samuel. You know better than anyone that a prince must be discerning with his consideration. How will it look if your lessers send you off? And we both know that will be the story, regardless of the story. Take your time. We¡¯ll find another way to amuse ourselves.¡±

    Her retreating back didn¡¯t give him the opportunity to respond. Ewan appeared at his shoulder and made a thoughtful noise. ¡°Lady Rosefield is a fine woman.¡±

    Samuel scoffed. ¡°Do you think I don¡¯t know that? Why do you think it¡¯s so hard to let her go?¡±

    -

    Samuel was still brooding over the conversation with Cecilia as he rode home. A sudden stop jolted him out of his thoughts as it threw him forward, the prince throwing out his arms to keep from falling to the floor. He was still straightening his appearance, when the door was opened. He could just make out Ewan¡¯s face in the weak light of the lantern at the front of the carriage.

    ¡°Pardon, your highness, but I need you to exit. We have a situation.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Samuel asked as he climbed out. Spring was rushing forward but winter was clinging to the area, its dying gasps making the night too chilly to stand on the road for long without a coat, which Samuel didn¡¯t have. His unease caused him to scan his surroundings, but the darkness made it impossible to make out anything beyond the vague outlines of the rubble to either side of them.

    ¡°A small inconvenience.¡±

    The knight¡¯s eyes flashed with channeled mana, but nothing happened. Before the prince could ask, Ewan motioned for him to move to the front of the carriage. His features slackened into a blank mask as he took in the death before him. Someone, or more likely a group of someones, had peppered the driver¡¯s bench with arrows. The vast majority were useless debris, their tips missing and shafts shattered. Half a dozen had still made it into the driver, his wide-open eyes saying that he had died too quickly to understand what was happening.

    The two stallions pulling the carriage lay sprawled over the road, even more projectiles sticking out of their bodies. Samuel noted that an earthen spike slightly raised the front of the carriage. The reason for the sudden stop, he assumed. Ewan had taken action before they could crash.

    ¡°Are we in danger?¡±

    ¡°No. I felt the responsible parties fleeing with tremorsense. It¡¯s possible that they¡¯re just out to cause trouble¡­but it¡¯s also possible that they¡¯ve slowed us down to make it easier to trap us.¡±

    ¡°You think they can make something to threaten you?¡±

    ¡°These are skilled hunters, your highness. Individually, I doubt any are my match, but they are used to fighting stronger opponents. If the entire road from here to the Hall is trapped, it might be enough to overwhelm me. It certainly calls into question my ability to protect you.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­we turn back.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the best move. We¡¯ve already passed that way and we¡¯re not too far from the camp. In the morning, we can prepare a proper escort.¡± Ewan motioned and Samuel stepped behind him, knowing to stay close. ¡°Step lively. I want to get back as soon as possible.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-17

    The camp looked different at night. It felt different.

    In the frank light of day, the refugees were pitiful things. They seemed paralyzed by their circumstances, living statues that commemorated their tragic lives. But in the darkness, all that made them sad was shrouded in shadow.

    He could make out the faces of those that sat closest to the fires when they turned to him. The flickering light transformed their dead gazes, giving energy to the repressed anger within. Their gaunt faces, thin from heavy rationing, seemed malicious in their hunger. Being stared at by dozens of such gazes was unsettling, far more than a few rebels trapping the road. Ewan could easily handle a few brigands but a mob of hundreds? Royal knights had limits to their strength. Even if Ewan should prevail, the thought of such a massacre done in his name made the prince slightly nauseous.

    Despite the ominous mood, the two didn¡¯t run into any trouble as they strolled down the singular road of the camp. The few acolytes that took notice of him were surprised at his presence, but no one bothered them, all the way to Alyssa¡¯s tent.

    Surprisingly, when Ewan announced them, it wasn¡¯t the redhead that emerged but Lane, scratching his bare chest while yawning. Samuel allowed himself to raise a brow at the sight, confident the bleary-eyed man wouldn¡¯t notice. It wasn¡¯t a pairing he was expecting but also wasn¡¯t entirely surprising. Plain men often found themselves involved with domineering women, in his experience.

    ¡°Your highness.¡± Lane forced his eyes open in a semblance of attention. ¡°Sir Reed. Is there a problem?¡±

    ¡°A bit. We ran into trouble on the road.¡±

    ¡°Are you hurt? Is the prince?! I¡¯ll send for a¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need. They merely sabotaged our carriage before retreating.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief. That you¡¯re not hurt, I mean. Sorry, I¡¯m barely standing. Boss and I switched shifts anticipating trouble. You¡¯d think the regular hours would be better but I¡¯d just gotten used to staying up¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lane,¡± Ewan interrupted.

    ¡°Right, right. Er, you¡¯ll be wanting to stay the night then, leave in the morning.¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡± Whatever his faults, Samuel could admit that Lane wasn¡¯t dumb, though the lack of sleep was clearly addling his mind.

    ¡°If you could direct us to a place to bed down, I can handle the rest. I also need to a runner to inform my men.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡ªhey!¡± Lane shouted down an acolyte, whispering a few words in the younger man¡¯s ear before sending him off. ¡°I don¡¯t remember where the soldiers are so I sent him off to find them and check what kind of supplies we have for you. Should at least be able to find something for the prince.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate the efforts,¡± Samuel said, trying to inject some feeling into his tone. He doubted said supplies would make the hard ground that much more comfortable, but it was better than nothing. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you and Miss Filagree were involved.¡±

    ¡°Involved?¡± Lane stared at him blankly but understanding dawned. He looked over his shoulder and back, his face flushing. ¡°You think¡­no, no. You¡¯ve got it wrong. Boss let me nap here. Things are really hectic and¡­bah! You get it.¡± A hand rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°We¡¯re not, er, together.¡±

    Clearly, he wanted to be. ¡°She objects?¡±

    A battle warred on Lane¡¯s face, the desire to keep his feelings private fighting the faux pas of refusing a prince, even something so small. In the end, he spoke. ¡°Yeah, she objects. Sees me as more of a brother than a husband, in her own words.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Samuel felt a rare twinge of sympathy for a man whose circumstances so closely reflected his own. ¡°She does seem difficult to¡­charm.¡±

    ¡°Difficult? Hah! Impossible. After I was rejected, I asked around, tried to get an idea what she was interested in me. The answer is nothing. At least, no one knows. She¡¯s never been in a public relationship since she came to the city. That¡¯s over a decade, you know? If that doesn¡¯t scream she¡¯s not interested, then I don¡¯t know what does. And with a woman like her, you know it¡¯s a choice.¡± He sighed. ¡°Can¡¯t woo a woman that doesn¡¯t want to be wooed, you know?¡±

    What kind of man accepted that? Probably the same kind that fancied a woman he called Boss. ¡°Isn¡¯t that the point of charm? The point is to convince someone they should be with you.¡± There was no such thing as someone who couldn¡¯t be wooed, only those incapable of wooing the objects of their affection.

    ¡°I can¡¯t speak about every woman but Boss isn¡¯t an indecisive woman. No one¡¯s going to convince her of something she doesn¡¯t want and good luck to the idiot that tries. I¡¯m willing to do whatever it takes but if there¡¯s nothing I can do¡­¡± He sighs. ¡°Look, ah, don¡¯t let it bother you. I don¡¯t mean to dump my problems on your shoulders.¡±

    Ewan looked to Samuel and surmised his motivations with a glance. ¡°No bother. All of us have felt the sting of unrequited love. It¡¯s admirable that you¡¯ve managed to remain close with Miss Filagree.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she was good about it. I¡¯m glad she¡¯s willing to sweep it under the rug, so to speak, but the reason why is disheartening. Still, I¡¯d rather we be friends than nothing. She¡¯s family, one way or the other.¡±

    Samuel shook his head. Was it really love if he could surrender it so easily? Did he really want it if one rejection was enough to make him settle for friendship? How could he stand to be around her?  The prince wondered he could be so copacetic when Alyssa eventually found someone who was capable of charming her. Would he still be able to say he was happy to be friends?

    Samuel knew he couldn¡¯t do it. Anytime he spent time around Cecilia, he was drowned in self-recrimination, wondering what facet of himself wasn¡¯t good enough. Surely, Lane had to be going through the same thing. Perhaps he was a glutton for punishment. Some part of the man had to enjoy the neglect, as a capable caster with a decent future ahead of him could find a bride whenever he pleased.

    They continued to make small talk until the acolyte Lane sent off returned, quickly delivering his report before running off again.

    ¡°Alright, your highness. Sir Frost has been informed of the situation and is relocating. We have a field reserved for the more¡­for the volunteers with sensitive circumstances. I¡¯ll lead you there.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s just one problem. Well, not a problem. Another, ah, sensitive circumstance that I think I should warn you about.¡±

    ¡°Out with it,¡± Samuel snapped, his emotions riled from Lane¡¯s confessions of the heart. He was in no mood to endure the man clumsily dancing around what had to be bad news.

    ¡°¡­there¡¯s someone staying there that you might worry you. But you shouldn¡¯t be worried about them! Before I tell you who it is, I want to say three things. First, Sir Frost knows about them and decided to bed down there anyway. Second, this person has been a model volunteer. Saints witness, I wish we had a hundred more like them. They¡¯ve visited several times and haven¡¯t caused a single problem. Third, and I can¡¯t stress this enough, you don¡¯t want to start a problem with them. For everyone¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve taken your words to heart,¡± Ewan said. ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°Yulianna James.¡±

    Samuel flinched, the reflex escaping his control. Ewan¡¯s control was better but his displeasure still showed in his frown. ¡°Surely, you¡¯re aware of the rumors that the James family is behind the destruction of the city?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve also heard rumors that it was arranged by the Teppiins, the guilds, and a secret cult of lizard people, for saints¡¯ sake.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for flippancy. We know the conflict originated in the north. Until the whole truth is found, it is reckless, bordering on stupid, to allow a possible traitor amongst you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right, we don¡¯t know the truth. What we do know is that Yulia isn¡¯t a combatant. She¡¯s not a threat to anyone but she is a major help. We¡¯re not going to get anywhere antagonizing¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Samuel glared at the two men. ¡°Ewan, we¡¯ve been over this. If Lou wanted me dead, I¡¯d have never made it to the Hall. Instead of dwelling on fictitious threats, perhaps we can take this opportunity to get closer to the truth you¡¯re so interested in. Unless you think two royal knights aren¡¯t enough to protect me from a woman.¡±

    ¡°At least three. She always brings at least two guards¡­¡± Lane trailed off as the prince¡¯s glare intensified, raising his palms in surrender.

    The royal knight sighed at the sight of the stubborn royal. ¡°You¡¯re not making my duty any easier. Very well. Lead on.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-18

    The ¡°reserved field¡± was located beside the camp¡¯s supplies. Given the distance from Alyssa¡¯s tent, he imagined that the area was originally the edge of the camp, as far away from the unpleasantness at the front of the camp as possible. However, the constant expansion of the camp meant that it was now surrounded, though there was enough space between the mostly empty field and the surrounding tents to create the illusion of privacy.

    Samuel thought it questionable to put potential enemies in such a sensitive area. If the northerners wanted to cause trouble, they had all the access they needed. It didn¡¯t escape him that their position meant they could have easily leaked details to the saboteurs that were causing all the trouble. If the north wanted to cause civil unrest, destabilizing the camp would be their main objective. It was the only thing keeping the desperate people of Quest in line. If it failed, the kingdom would be drowned in a wave of uncommonly skilled bandits, a problem that could plague harvest for years.

    However, it was also strategic. From what he saw, half a dozen acolytes were assigned to the supplies, both as guards and dispensers. Not enough to stop trained knights but enough to raise an alarm. Between them and the servants brought by those with special circumstances, as Lane put it, there were too many eyes for them to try anything easily.

    The other acolytes didn¡¯t seem burdened by similar worries. He spotted many of them gathered around a large fire at the center of the field, one all the tents were arranged around, personal ones judging from their size and lavishness. They were in the middle of a cheery conversation despite their probable fatigue, their joy lighting up their faces more than their smiles.

    At the head of the commotion, like his mother that herded the chattering noblewomen during the parties hosted by the crown, was Yulianna James. He spotted her instantly, as she was the only one accompanied by guards, one seated beside her while the other stood at her shoulder. The lady knights weren¡¯t donning their armor or weapons. If they passed on the road, he could have mistaken them for simple commoners, the two women possessing the strong arms and rougher appearances, one marred by a jagged scar across her cheek, that he associated with those that did hard labor.

    Their charge couldn¡¯t be further from that image. The plain clothes she wore did nothing to accentuate her charm, but she didn¡¯t need the help. She was what young boys fantasized about when they thought of passionate affairs with a noblewoman; lustrous black hair that fell down her back, sparkling blue eyes, and delicate features. Her laugh was beautiful and her smile lit up the night better than the fire, captivating her small audience.

    There was no trace of a soldier in her thin arms and supple curves. Whatever connection had to the tragedy of Quest, Samuel understood why Lane was adamant that the James daughter wasn¡¯t a threat. She didn¡¯t look like she could hurt a babe. However, the prince wasn¡¯t convinced so easily. He knew well that someone didn¡¯t need a sword or magic to cause harm.

    He intended to speak to her, probe her intentions personally while he had the chance, but he diverted toward the soldiers setting up tents at the edge of the field. An armored figure stood apart, overseeing their efforts, the distinctive golden armor of the royal knights almost as eye-catching as Yulianna¡¯s group.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Samuel repressed a grimace as he approached. Ewan had sent Sir Frost, the eldest of the three knights that had escorted him, to oversee the investigation into the rebels. The prince didn¡¯t like dealing with the older generation of the royal knights. Ewan¡¯s youth and aspirations to forge a place amongst the nobles meant Samuel could negotiate with him, maneuver him into compromises. The crusty old soldiers that made up the backbone of the royal knights like Sir Frost didn¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass about appearances or standing. They took their jobs seriously and would barrel straight past anything that got in the way of their duty.

    Samuel¡¯s authority also meant nothing to them. He might be able to make things difficult for Ewan if the man got carried away but those that had served as long as Sir Frost were as immovable as the foundation of the palace. Unless they drew their swords and struck him down in the streets, Samuel complaints, if he dared to make them, would be nothing more than a waste of breath.

    ¡°Your highness.¡± The older knight greeted him with a shallow bow.

    ¡°Sir Frost,¡± Samuel returned with a curt nod. ¡°Is everything¡­acceptable?¡±

    The man easily caught his meaning, eyes briefly flicking to the group around the fire. ¡°It¡¯s not the palace but we¡¯ll make do. We¡¯ll set a watch for the night. In the morning, we¡¯ll sweep the city, see if the cowards dare attack us without shadows to hide in. I wager you¡¯ll be back in the Hall by lunch.¡±

    It was strange. Samuel counted on the competence of his escorts but the veteran¡¯s confidence stirred a faint disgust in his heart. He didn¡¯t speak of it or examine it took closely. It was unseemly to dwell on the burdens of being catered to constantly before the men who put their lives on the line to defend his. ¡°Do we have food?¡±

    ¡°Very little. Can¡¯t even catch a bit of meat, the surroundings have been picked clean. We can prepare something but it won¡¯t be filling or satisfying.¡±

    Samuel sighed as his stomach rumbled. It would be hard enough to get a decent rest without adding an empty stomach to his troubles. ¡°Do it. In the meantime, I¡¯ll join the others.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with him,¡± Ewan added before Sir Frost could speak a warning.

    The older knight inclined his head instead. ¡°I¡¯ll send someone with word when the food is ready.¡±

    Around the fire, the group¡¯s enthusiasm hadn¡¯t waned. Samuel noted that Yulianna¡¯s audience wasn¡¯t comprised solely of young men, which would have been a reasonable explanation for their unwavering interest. They also varied in age and background, given their appearances. If anything about her should have united them, it should have been suspicion and anger. Instead, they laughed with her.

    It was impressive, a display of natural social graces that his tutors had failed to instill in him, forcing him to rely on strategically applied disdain and authority.

    Like a rock thrown into a pond, his presence disturbed their pleasant mood. The acolytes looked away from him, their tension showing the familiar unease of someone who didn¡¯t know how to act in the presence of royalty. Not Yulianna. She ignored him, speaking as if he weren¡¯t approaching with obvious intent.

    ¡°¡ªjokes aside, the north has seen worst shortages than this. There have been years when not a single wagon of grain passed through our gates. The key to get through this is efficiency. Using every part of everything that can be used. You have to trust your home to provide for you. The knowledge of how to use what it gives you is kept by the elders of the community. That¡¯s why it¡¯s so important to get the locals to open up to us. Do what you can to open their hearts. We need them to help us help them.¡±

    ¡°Bold words coming from you.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-19

    Samuel liked to think that he could be intimidating when he chose. It was an important skill, as he implied threats were his best weapon. It was also the only use he had for his father¡¯s physique, though even he thought it sad that the best thing he could do with the blood of generals was to tower over delicate beauties.

    Unfortunately, Yulianna wasn¡¯t intimidated. She took her time standing and met his gaze with an uncomfortable directness. There was barely any room between his large frame and her seat, something he¡¯d done on purpose, but her curtesy was perfect anyway.

    ¡°Good evening, Prince Samuel.¡±

    ¡°You recognize me?¡±

    ¡°I confess, I wouldn¡¯t have recognized you on my own. My friends pointed you out to me, shielding me from any embarrassment. Would you care to join us?¡±

    ¡°What, exactly, would I be joining?¡±

    ¡°Nothing sinister.¡± That was almost a disappointment. At least talks of treason would have been exciting. ¡°We come together at the end of our long days to ease each other¡¯s burdens. Remind ourselves of the good things that seem so far away in a crisis.¡±

    Samuel scoffed, mostly performatively. ¡°So, they choose to find joy with the source of the crisis?¡±

    From his peripheral, the prince noted that the surrounding acolytes looked uncomfortable but Yulianna was unfazed. ¡°I don¡¯t claim to be blameless but I can say three things without sham, for I know them to be the truth. The first is that I never intended to cause anyone harm. The entire reason I accompanied my sister when she was put in charge of the March was to see it come to a peaceful conclusion. If failing is my fault in this tragedy, than I accept it. The second thing I swear to be true is that I have never attacked a resident of the city. The third is that I only wish to help these people.¡±

    Remarkable. Growing up in court, Samuel had been exposed to the best wordsmiths in the kingdom. Yulianna wasn¡¯t the greatest, but she certainly compared. She made it seem as if she was talking to him, staring into his eyes as she spoke, but her voice was pitched to carry to the whole group. He didn¡¯t know if he had given her a platform to finally justify herself or just reinforce her position, but she¡¯d used it with gusto.

    It was a performance, he was sure, he had an instinct for such things, but it was masterful. Her tone was the perfect mix of sad, hopeful, and na?ve to make her appear fragile, provoking the natural inclination to treat her delicately. Woven into her emotional speech were logical justifications and deflections. Better, her words carried conviction, filled with the force of her personality. It was rare for someone to be able to do so on command, which meant people tended to assume the person believed the words wholeheartedly.

    The stages of the capital would lament never being graced by such a talent. Samuel smiled as he stared into her earnest eyes, wondering if he was crashing her party or if he was just the next act in her play. He understood the acolytes admiration now. The woman was fascinating. Exciting.

    The prince wanted to poke at her performance, see if he could make her trip.

    ¡°I suppose your knights didn¡¯t attack anyone either.¡±

    Her smile dimmed like curtains being drawn, her gaze dropping to the ground as she looked away. ¡°They took up arms to protect me, but it was for naught. We were all taken hostage by the guilds. It was horrifying experience, being hunted like animals, but I don¡¯t care for my suffering. I only regret that I was taken away at such a crucial time. To think I might have been the motivation behind so much destruction¡­¡± She shook her head.

    Samuel checked her eyes for tears and was pleased not to find any. Waterworks would have been far too dramatic, tilting the balance of the image she was trying to create. In one breath, she¡¯d painted herself as both a hapless maiden and a foiled hero. He wanted to applaud. He wanted to see more.

    ¡°Would you like to walk with me?¡± he asked before he realized what he was saying.

    Around him, their respective guards tensed. He heard Ewan take a step forward, a quiet threat. The women weren¡¯t intimidated. The seated one slowly stood while the other glared over Samuel¡¯s shoulder without fear.

    If Yuliannna was bothered by the tension, she didn¡¯t show a trace of anxiety in her smile, one that was soft and accommodating. ¡°I would be honored.¡±

    -

    In firelight, Yulianna sparkled, like a perfectly cut jewel.

    In the softer light of the moon, her tremendous presence was subdued. She was more like a wildflower, a simple thing that was easily obscured by tall weeds and grasses, but breathtaking from the right angle. He imagined there would be a dozen unsavory rumors spread about the two of them by morning, as his invitation hadn¡¯t been subtle and they were still in sight walking the perimeter of the field, but his conversation with the snake in the guise of a pretty woman was the most fun he¡¯d had in weeks. It was good not to think about danger for a while, though their respective guards made themselves known with their heavy footfalls, a subtle reminder of the world outside of their stolen moments.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Despite the walk being his idea, the prince found himself at a loss for words. He didn¡¯t know what he hoped to gain out of his invitation. He found amusement poking at her and he wanted to know the truth behind Quest, but what he hoped to discover in scant minutes¡ª

    ¡°So, who is she?¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡± The prince snapped out of his thoughts to find Yulianna watching him. The lack of witnesses meant there was no need for a smile but her expression was relaxed, open.

    ¡°The woman you like. Fancy. Are currently seeing?¡±

    Samuel chuckled. ¡°What makes you think there¡¯s a woman?¡±

    ¡°For a handsome prince? There¡¯s always a woman.¡± She grinned. ¡°It¡¯s the look. Men look at me two ways. The first is, well. The second is critical. Experience has shown that it usually means they¡¯re comparing me to something. Usually, to another woman.¡±

    ¡°Presumptuous. Arrogant, even.¡±

    ¡°Am I wrong?¡±

    ¡°You are.¡±

    ¡°But you were comparing me to something. I¡¯d bet my fortune on it.¡±

    Comparing her to jewels and flowers hardly counted. His upbringing lent his thoughts to poetic descriptions. ¡°Then hand it over.¡±

    ¡°Lies are unbecoming, highness.¡±

    ¡°You dare accuse a prince?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already a villain. What¡¯s the harm?¡±

    Samuel laughed. When was the last time he¡¯d enjoyed a conversation so much? Probably not since the verbal sparring of his youth, before his brother was named crown prince. Dowager was the better leader of men, but Samuel could work a crowd. He¡¯d loved the word games, twisting tales. At least for sport. He didn¡¯t appreciate the consequences of politics nearly as much.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never known a villain to be so beloved by their victims.¡±

    That grimace. Samuel was surprised that his gut told him it was real. Did she feel true guilt? What did she have to feel guilty about?

    ¡°Beloved is a strong word. I give them something they crave so they keep coming back.¡±

    ¡°And what¡¯s that? Do you have fresh bread hidden under your shirt?¡±

    She playfully put an arm over her chest. ¡°How scandalous. No, I¡¯ve got nothing of commercial value. It¡¯s the little things. A smile. A kind word. Greeting them by name and thanking them for their hard work. Visiting them when they get hurt. Comforting them when they get overwhelmed. We¡¯re all capable of it but it''s in short supply, nonetheless. A shame.¡±

    ¡°Decency doesn¡¯t fill bellies or bring back loved ones.¡±

    ¡°Nor does grudges.¡±

    Yulianna stopped, the prince walking several steps ahead before he realized she was no longer following. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°I thought I¡¯d help you. You must have asked me on this walk for a reason. I thought we should get to it. It¡¯s getting late.¡±

    ¡°What if I were to tell you I don¡¯t know why I asked you here?¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯d remind you that I¡¯m married.¡±

    The prince snorted. He hadn¡¯t noticed the ring on her hand until she held it up, but he wasn¡¯t surprised about its presence. All the men in the north would have to be blind for her not to be married. ¡°It certainly wasn¡¯t for that.¡±

    ¡°Hm. My second thought was to ask you about the woman on your mind. Perhaps I could offer you some advice.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need advice.¡±

    ¡°Oh? When¡¯s the wedding?¡±

    ¡°Marriage isn¡¯t the mark success.¡±

    ¡°It is if you want to spend the rest of your life with her.¡±

    Samuel arms twitched as he fought the urge to cross them, knowing how defensive it would make him look. If someone was keeping score of their conversation, he¡¯d be losing, firmly on the defensive. ¡°The rest of my life is a long time.¡±

    Yulianna clapped. ¡°There¡¯s your problem! If this isn¡¯t a woman you plan to spend the rest of your life with, then you shouldn¡¯t be brooding over her.¡±

    ¡°¡­easier said than done.¡±

    ¡°Now we¡¯re getting somewhere.¡± Yuliana resumed their walk and Samuel naturally fell in-step beside her. ¡°So, your girl. Your woman. I know she¡¯s hard to forget. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°She isn¡¯t interested in the obligations of marriage.¡±

    ¡°Ah. So, she¡¯s at that stage.¡±

    ¡°Stage? What stage?¡± the prince asked, inwardly cursing that he couldn¡¯t keep the eagerness out of his tone.

    ¡°No need to look so excited. It¡¯s no great secret. We¡¯ve all go through it. Haven¡¯t you ever wanted your life to amount to something?¡±

    The question was like a blade to the heart.

    ¡°There. You understand. Women aren¡¯t immune to ambition. They want to accomplish great works and be remembered for a thousand years. They want to see fantastical places and have grand adventures. They want an epic romance just like in the stories their mothers told them when they were girls. They want it as badly as you want or wanted whatever caused you to make that expression. Marriage? Children? At that stage, those are only chains.¡±

    ¡°Did you have that stage?¡±

    ¡°Everyone does.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­how did you move past it?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t.¡± She smiled. ¡°I¡¯m one of the lucky ones whose ambition lines up perfectly with marriage and family. Too well sometimes. But you don¡¯t have to look to me for the answer. You¡¯ve already done it.¡±

    Samuel shook his head. His way wasn¡¯t a solution. He¡¯d simply slammed into one too many obstacles and decided he didn¡¯t have what it took to make it to the end. He¡¯d given up. ¡°¡­you mean she has to give up. Settle for me.¡±

    ¡°You make it sound so distasteful. When we¡¯re children, we want to ride dragons. Knowledge and experience teach us that¡¯s impossible. We sacrifice a hundred dreams over our lives. A dream is worth nothing, since we never had it in the first place. What has value is that which we can grab. She¡¯ll get tired of jumping for things out of her reach and when she does, you will be there to hold her up. If that¡¯s not enough to make a girl fall for you, you had no chance from the beginning. Or maybe she fancies the other sex. I didn¡¯t suspect it of my sister until she brought her would-be fianc¨¦ home for our annual war.¡±

    ¡°That joke is in poor taste.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Did I touch on a bad experience?¡±

    ¡°Something like that.¡± The sound of running footsteps drew the prince¡¯s attention. A soldier was coming toward him. Time was up. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose I could interest you in a poor dinner?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d bet your opinion of poor doesn¡¯t match my own, but I¡¯ll decline anyway. My escort will be arriving soon.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t ride through the city before morning. Rebels are attacking carriages leaving the camps.¡± He left unsaid that she was a prime target for them. It was possible that the measures to lock down the camp were meant for her the entire time.

    ¡°Are you worried for me?¡± She smiled like a girl given a sweet treat. Samuel couldn¡¯t help thinking it beautiful and the man who got to come home to it very lucky. ¡°Thank you, but I¡¯ll be fine. Whatever else she is, Lou is considerate. Of Alana that is, and part of that consideration is making sure her sister makes it home safe. My escort is more than capable of protecting me. In fact¡­¡±

    Her lips pursed as she thought. Eventually, she nodded to herself. ¡°Your highness, forgive me for my about face but I would like to take you up on your invitation, if it¡¯s still available?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to do so.¡±

    ¡°Good. I was also hoping there was room for one more?¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-20

    When Yulianna asked to bring someone to dinner, Samuel expected an acolyte she had befriended during her time as a volunteer. Perhaps a refugee that had pleaded with her to use her influence so that they could speak to someone with authority.

    The last thing he expected was an elf.

    Despite it having been over a year since Kierra Atainna made her debut in high society, the kingdom wasn¡¯t accustomed to foreigners. One dynamic personality wasn¡¯t enough to overcome five hundred years of isolation. The other races were akin to legends. For everyone besides the traders that sailed the ocean under the flag of the Guiness, other races were things of legends. No one expected to see someone with skin the color of grass walk into their stores and drink with them at their favorite bar.

    Kierra¡¯s presence could have caused a great upset, but her appearance was softened by the just as surprising news that she was married to a Harvest noblewoman. The circumstances of their union were unusual, but the tradition was familiar. It also helped that she was beautiful woman. People would always be more inclined to humor a pretty face.

    The face that casually strolled through the camp wasn¡¯t pretty. It was full of hard angles and set in a stern frown. Samuel didn¡¯t know if relation worked the same with the elves as it did people, but if it did, the prince would bet a hundred gold that the new elf was related to Kierra; that pallor was unmistakable. There was little else to show their possible relation, unless fitness could be inherited. The new elf was broad-shouldered and bare-chested, with wild, dark hair to the nape of his neck. Calm green eyes never wavered despite the unease he caused as he passed. The elf made for an imposing figure and Samuel unconsciously straightened as he stopped before them.

    ¡°Your highness, I would like to introduce you to Orum, Kierra¡¯s father. He¡¯s traveled a long way to visit his daughter and her new clan. Orum, this is Samuel kor Harvest, second son of the king.¡±

    ¡°A pleasure,¡± Samuel said with false cheer. He didn¡¯t know Kierra¡¯s exact standing, his father didn¡¯t see the need to inform him of the particulars of important matters, but he knew she was a royal. He doubted her father was the king, as no monarch would journey from their territory on a whim. That meant he was likely the equivalent of a duke. Perhaps a royal advisor.

    Someone too important for Samuel to treat flippantly. If he were human, the prince would go out of his way to leave a good impression, but he was too concerned that the man would have the same irrational temperament as his daughter.

    The silent stare he leveled on Samuel rather than a greeting was a bad sign. Eventually, he sighed.

    ¡°You are the offspring of a monarch?¡±

    The prince fixed his smile, not allowing his offense to dim it even a fraction. No matter how different their cultures were, there was no way that question said in that tone was meant as anything other than an insult. ¡°I am. You¡¯ll have to forgive me. It¡¯s hard to maintain a royal presence in these¡­circumstances.¡±

    Orum ignored him and turned to Yuliana. ¡°Are you ready to leave?¡±

    ¡°One moment. Would you care to join us for a meal?¡±

    ¡°Kii has much better available.¡±

    ¡°You said you wanted to see the situation of the city yourself. This is one more experience to take in. A small bowl?¡±

    ¡°Hm. Fine.¡±

    Yulianna clapped her hands, smiling broadly. ¡°Excellent. Prince Samuel has generously offered us this meal and to share his fire.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    To Samuel¡¯s surprise, Orum balled his hands into fists and pressed his knuckles together. He didn¡¯t bow his head, but his tone carried the same deference. ¡°I thank you for your care.¡±

    ¡°¡­you¡¯re welcome.¡±

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s not stand here!¡±

    Yulianna led the way to the fire in the center of the camp set up by the soldiers. At Samuel¡¯s request, three short flat rocks had been raised for seats in a half-circle, a precaution to protect himself from possible unpleasant company. He was very glad to have the noblewoman as a buffer between himself and the strange elf.

    As they settled, a soldier came to them with carrying bowls of thin soup with a few chucks of dried meat and scant veggies in it. It wasn¡¯t even fragrant. Worse fare than he expected and the last thing he wanted to serve a foreign noble. The only reason he didn¡¯t demand that the soldiers find something better was because the poor fare seemed to be what the elf expected.

    There was a heavy martial presence watching over them as they received their meals. Both royal knights stood right behind them, as still and tense as guard dogs awaiting the order to pounce. Five more soldiers surrounded them in a loose circle, failing to look uninterested in them. His escorts had been copacetic about him spending time with the soft-looking Yulianna but weren¡¯t taking any chances with the man built like a warrior. In contrast, the noblewoman¡¯s knights were entirely unconcerned, having left them to ready Yulianna¡¯s carriage.

    ¡°There¡¯s no point of us sharing a meal together if we don¡¯t speak,¡± Yulianna said with a chuckle after they¡¯d spent several long moments eating very little of their food.

    Samuel had no idea what one said in his situation, the choice of guest having completely taken him off guard. Thankfully, Orum took the lead.

    ¡°This is terrible.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t very tasteful, but they have little to work with.¡±

    ¡°The taste is irrelevant. I speak of the ingredients. They lack¡­power. Just like fire, the body consumes to grow. The more powerful the fuel, the more powerful the body becomes after consuming it. Weak food feeds weak beasts whose meat weakens the warrior that consumes it.¡±

    ¡°I think you are asking too much for simple foraged greens,¡± Samuel said wryly.

    ¡°Weak food is the sign of a weak land.¡±

    The hairs along the back of the prince¡¯s neck rose. Was that a threat? ¡°There is only so much one can do. Once the seeds are sown in the earth, it¡¯s out of your hands.¡±

    ¡°Foolish. If you speak of cultivation, it doesn¡¯t start nor end with sowing seeds. Feed it, and it will grow. Strengthen the plant, soak the seed in powerful mixtures, mix the soil with the hearts of powerful beasts and the skin of bitter fruits. The reward you receive is proportional to the effort you put in, as with everything.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had knowledge of farming,¡± Yuliana interrupted.

    ¡°I have spent many years creating a body far beyond the limits I was born with. All things have a cost. To do more, I must consume more fuel. Eating my weight in food is both time consuming and taxing. Better instead to eat stronger foods, but they are valuable. In the beginning, I had to grow them myself.¡± Orum raised his bowl to his lips and downed the contents in two powerful gulps.

    ¡°That was a long speech on how subpar the food is to consume it anyway.¡±

    ¡°It would be rude to waste a gift. I would have offered it to another if I thought any would take it.¡± The elf turned to Yuliana. ¡°Why have you asked me to speak with this boy?¡±

    ¡°I am not a boy,¡± Samuel hissed, reminding himself that he was speaking to someone that outranked him in every way.

    ¡°Your highness, please.¡± A hand touched the prince¡¯s shoulders and he forced himself to take a breath. Yulianna flashed a smile as her hand retreated to her lap. He wondered if she understood how forward she was being. She had to. The unexpected gesture had been enough to startle him out of his offense, no doubt what she intended.

    ¡°I asked you to join us Orum because I want it to be seen that we are making an effort. The city thinks of us as monsters, things removed from people, when the truth is the exact opposite. We are infinitely human, so to speak. The flaws of ego caused the tragedy of Quest. The strengths of the heart will resolve it but there is no room for heart if people won¡¯t even approach us.¡±

    ¡°I see. You want to show the boy¡¯s guardians that I can treat the young carefully. Very well.¡±

    Samuel startled as the elf stood suddenly and he wasn¡¯t the only one. In the blink of an eye, the two royal knights stood before him. Neither had drawn a weapon but their stances made it clear that they would meet violence with more violence.

    ¡°In return for your favor, I will demonstrate the grace of true warriors. Ask of me, boy.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a lot older than you,¡± the noblewoman hissed softly when the prince clenched his jaw.

    It was a poor excuse, but the prince could do nothing about his offense. ¡°Then it would be good if you could solve the camp¡¯s food problems. A meal for a meal,¡± he said, ready for the elf¡¯s stoic superiority to crack as he admitted he was no more capable than the rest of them.

    Instead, Orum nodded. ¡°A small thing. It will be done.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-21

    He reached into his pants, pulling out a handful of seeds. Then he waved for the men to approach, who did so with varying degrees of reluctance, Ewan making sure the prince stayed a step behind him.

    ¡°This is the seed of a leafy green,¡± the elf explained. ¡°Little taste, but sturdy, grows fast, and is full of nutrition.¡±

    ¡°How do you know so much about our plants?¡± the prince asked with suspicion.

    ¡°I asked another to procure something suitable. I trust their judgment. Now, watch.¡±

    Orum knelt and moved the dirt with his fingers. Samuel watched with a deepening frown as he turned the earth and placed the seeds in the ground. ¡°You¡¯re not doing anything special.¡±

    ¡°No, I am not.¡± Once the small amount of seeds were planted, he climbed to his feet and brushed off his hands. ¡°We will need water.¡±

    ¡°What? The fresh water situation is nearly as bad as the food. It¡¯d be ridiculous to give this¡­experiment so much as cup.¡±

    ¡°Mm. I planned to retrieve my own after determining the growing sight.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°How long do you expect us to¡­¡± Samuel¡¯s complaint died as the elf¡¯s gaze glowed with channeled magic. Ewan tensed, but Orum paid the hostility no mind. Twin disturbing growths that looked like the antennae of an insect, the flesh a dark brown, grew from his brow. They twitched and Orum turned. He opened his mouth and a large, forked tongue tasted the air before disappearing with the speed of a striking snake.

    ¡°I will return soon,¡± he pronounced before moving. It wasn¡¯t simply running. Moving at such speed that you disappeared between blinks and the wind caused by your passing ruffled hair was doing something other than running, but the prince didn¡¯t know the proper word.

    Samuel swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. ¡°Ewan?¡±

    ¡°Your highness?¡±

    ¡°Your analysis?¡±

    ¡°¡­I couldn¡¯t stop him,¡± the royal knight admitted, his tone grave. ¡°Something moving at that speed¡­there¡¯s no chance of me hitting it. Of anyone hitting it. Maybe a life marker¡­no, they wouldn¡¯t have the power to project a spell fast enough that it couldn¡¯t be outrun. Nothing short of a full-scale bombardment could touch him.¡±

    ¡°What of Sir Telwind?¡± He was the strongest buffer in the order.

    ¡°He could match that speed for scant moments. Enough to give other knights an opportunity to strike but he couldn¡¯t bring that monster down on his own. If this Orum is a representative of elven elites¡­¡± Ewan shook his head. The thought didn¡¯t need elaborating.

    ¡°So, this is what my father has to contend with.¡± And Dowager too, should their father fail. Samuel didn¡¯t envy them. ¡°I suppose we best wait for him to return?¡± The last thing the prince wanted to do was anger the walking disaster in the guise of a man.

    ¡°I think that would be wise, your highness.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-22

    True to his word, Orum returned quickly. Not so quickly that Samuel wasn¡¯t annoyed at being made to wait but far faster than he expected, given that the elf had needed to find a water source as well as bring it back.

    Another surprise was the two large barrels on his shoulders. One of the burdens was enough to require a wagon and a beast a burden but the elf showed no sign that the weight bothered him. The prince marveled as the containers half as tall as he was and nearly as wide were set down with heavy thuds that left no doubt about how much they weighed.

    ¡°Life needs three things to thrive: shelter, sustenance, and light. However, if all these things cannot be found, an ample supply of one can make up for the loss.¡± Orum lifted the top off one of the barrels, grabbed it by the rim and doused the ground where he¡¯d planted the seeds.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to drown them.¡± The group turned to the soldier that had spoken. The veteran met their gazes with a droll look and waved a hand at the ground. ¡°Come from farming stock. Too much water can kill plants sure as pests.¡±

    ¡°He is right. The life of this kingdom is fragile, but I will make it strong.¡± Orum touched the ground, his hand wrapped in a soft green glow. Samuel couldn¡¯t deny his interest as a green sprout steadily pushed aside the dirt. His mild interest became rapt attention as the sprout suddenly erupted. The stem grew to Samuel¡¯s chest, with large drooping leaves wider than his head. Over two dozen at a glance, overlapping each other like the skirts of a dress. At the top, a bright yellow bud sprouted, its petals almost aggressively vibrant.

    The elf repeated his work with each seed, sprouting four more of the enormous plants before stepping back with a nod. A hand gestured towards Samuel. ¡°Come, boy.¡±

    So deep was his fascination, Samuel didn¡¯t even take offense at how he was addressed. He waved off Ewan before the royal knight could censure him, stepping up to Orum¡¯s side. ¡°I have seen casters hasten the growth of a plant but never make such drastic alterations, especially in so short a time. It should be impossible.¡±

    ¡°How can something you see before you be impossible? If it can be done, then it means that those that failed were merely incapable.¡±

    ¡°But how? If you can share.¡± Such a methodology had to be incredibly value, if not a closely guarded secret.

    ¡°Teaching was not your favor.¡± The rejection wasn¡¯t harsh, but it was final. Samuel didn¡¯t push. ¡°The plant has been changed. It needs less nourishment from the ground, but drinks more heavily of the sun and rain. The leaves are edible and will regrow rapidly when harvested.¡±

    ¡°How quickly?¡±

    In answer, the elf plucked one of the large leaves. The prince¡¯s fascination intensified as it immediately started to grow back. If it continued at its current rate, he guessed it wouldn¡¯t take more than a couple days, less than a week for sure. Anything with that quick of a harvesting cycle was a game changer and not just for Quest. ¡°This is incredible.¡±

    ¡°Mm. All things must be balanced. The plant produces well but it is fragile. A day without sunlight and it will die. Too little water and it will wilt in hours.¡±

    Water wasn¡¯t an issue with so many capable casters about. The sunlight was more of a problem, as the wrong storm could leave the sky overcast for days, but nothing was perfect.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°The flower is where the seeds are harvested.¡± Orum swiped his hand over one of the buds before showing his palm to Samuel, where a half dozen black pellets rested. ¡°They will not be replenished quickly so treat them preciously. And do not bother the insects it will attract. The flowers¡¯ smell will drive off the pests. Only nature¡¯s helpers will come and they are important.¡±

    Samuel leaned forward and sniffed, expecting a strong fragrance. Instead, there was only the faintest hint of citrus. ¡°Ewan, send one of the men to the camp to inform Instructor Filagree of these developments. And for baskets.¡± The sooner the leaves were harvested, the better.

    For once, Ewan didn¡¯t make an argument about his safety and nodded to one of the soldiers who hurried back to the camp. Orum ignored the exchange, collecting the seeds from the other plants and hastening their growth. Samuel was forced to retreat further and further, until all he could see before him was a sea of green. He didn¡¯t know how filling the leaves would be but if each leaf could be considered a portion, there was enough here to feed the whole of the camp with perhaps a few dozen to spare.

    Samuel looked over the elf, checking for signs of manastrain, but there wasn¡¯t so much as a wrinkle in his brow. He waved Ewan closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. ¡°How much mana do you think he has?¡±

    ¡°Impossible to tell. Something like this¡­it¡¯s unprecedented.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not looking for exact numbers, just a general idea.¡±

    ¡°I know a master that can modify plants instantly. They are secretive about the details of their spells, but I¡¯d estimate it costs around two hundred. But your highness, that is for small changes, like tinting its shade or adjusting its height. He has created an entirely different plant, something that is done over days or weeks. Such drastic changes as he¡¯s introduced are even done over generations, changing it over several iterations. To do so this fast¡­I¡¯d estimate eight hundred.¡±

    Samuel frowned. ¡°That¡¯s less than I thought.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m assuming he isn¡¯t simply pouring mana into it like a brute and has a spell that reduces the cost.¡±

    A reasonable assumption. Still, eight hundred mana wasn¡¯t a small number. Saints above, it was three hundred units above the minimum to be considered a master, the strongest force humanity could produce and the more mana one had, the harder it was to fill their core with more. When he was small, his father once bragged that the current captain of the royal guards had a coefficient of nine hundred. It was meant to reassure the young prince whose dreams were haunted by the thought of assassins waiting in the dark.

    That was only one hundred more than the elf might have casually spent on a whim.

    ¡°Do you agree that I have kept my word?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± Samuel snapped out of his thoughts to find the elf watching him. ¡°Yes! Of course. You¡¯ve more than¡­returned the favor, though I¡¯m embarrassed to say the words. All of this is worth far more than a bowl of soup.¡±

    ¡°Kindness, honor, mercy. These are priceless.¡± Orum sighed. ¡°Yulia also made a good point. There is no future for my daughter in this kingdom if all you see when you imagine her is a monster. This?¡± He waved his hand at the newly created field. ¡°This is child¡¯s play for her and I mean that literally. Often when she was a girl, I would wake up in the morning to find the plants surrounding our tree totally transformed. Grown tall enough for her to climb, their leaves and petals whatever color that amused her.¡± The father¡¯s smile was nostalgic as he recounted the memories. ¡°I would love to bring my daughter home but if this is where she wants to be, I will keep her from making a nightmare of her garden.¡±

    So, this was an attempt to clean up the mess Kierra had made? Samuel wondered how far the powerful caster would go to make things right. How far could his generosity be pushed? Or better, how much influence he could exert on the daughter that was supposedly more talented than him? ¡°What will you do now?¡±

    ¡°I will return. My partner will come find me if I take much longer.¡±

    Partner? Did he mean a spouse, his wife presumably? ¡°It would be a pleasure to meet¡­her?¡±

    ¡°No, boy, it would not. My gift to you is to spare you the experience. Be well and be good to your people. This kingdom faces a great struggle, but the harshest challenges make the strongest warriors if they are led out of the darkness.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-23

    Given the miracle he performed, Orum¡¯s exit was anticlimatic, the elf walking away from the men with slow, lumbering steps after a short farewell. He passed the returning soldier sent to play messenger, the veteran sharply stepping aside to let the foreigner pass with the same deference he paid his superiors. Samuel noted that he carried several baskets in his arms but workers to fill them didn¡¯t trail behind him.

    ¡°Why are you alone?¡± the prince demanded once the soldier stood before them.

    ¡°My apologies, your highness. I couldn¡¯t find the instructor. I relayed the message to Mr. Macklemore who said he would see that she got it and that they couldn¡¯t spare any hands.¡±

    Samuel fought the urge to shake his head. It wasn¡¯t the man¡¯s fault. He was a soldier, who was used to working with little and coming up with his own solutions. He wasn¡¯t taught how to shout and threaten until people paid attention, to demand what he wanted with the full expectation that his desires would be prioritized.

    It also wasn¡¯t Lane¡¯s fault. He could imagine how busy the man was with the recent business in the city. He likely hadn¡¯t paid attention to a soldier telling him that an elf had magically grown a field of plants outside the camp, unable to imagine the significance of the statement.

    ¡°Your highness¡ª"

    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± He didn¡¯t need a warning or a lecture. This wasn¡¯t the time for his ego. Samuel might not have the most sympathetic heart but even he was moved by the crisis of the city, rationally if not empathetically. ¡°Leave the baskets and go back. Find the instructor and stick to her side until she listens to you. Don¡¯t come back without her, Lane, or both. Understood?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± The soldier dropped his burdens and dashed off.

    ¡°As for the rest of you, grab a basket. The quicker we fill them, the faster the next batch grows and there are a thousand hungry mouths waiting for us.¡±

    The men didn¡¯t hesitate to follow his order. Rather, they took to it with more gusto than the prince who reluctantly rolled up his sleeves before grabbing a basket. Picking leaves pushed the bounds of what he considered appropriate. He certainly wouldn¡¯t want anyone with an opinion that mattered to see him doing the menial labor. His hope was that the magnitude of him actively participating would help Alyssa and the rest of the camp accept Orum¡¯s generosity.

    Samuel considered himself a skeptic but being in the elf¡¯s presence, seeing his power firsthand, he knew that the powerful caster didn¡¯t need tricks to overwhelm them if he wanted to harm the people of Harvest. Even their elites were nothing to him. It was that insignificance that convinced the prince that nothing sinister lurked behind the favor. The last thing the camp needed was the people in charge wasting time because of useless suspicion or, worse, politics.

    ¡°You are doing a good thing, my prince,¡± Ewan said with a rare warmth as he stood beside Samuel, harvesting the leaves of another plant.

    Samuel scoffed. ¡°Good enough to be done with this mess, you think? Surely, no one will think the prince that solved a famine is doing charity for show?¡±

    ¡°I think you have done a good deed worthy of a lifetime, even if it was mostly through jest.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Don¡¯t say that too loud. It sounds like just the thing the bards would love to get their hands on. The prince whose scorn spread health and good cheer.¡± What a terrible legacy to leave behind. He¡¯d rather be swallowed by obscurity.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    -

    ¡°What in the freezing north is this?!¡±

    The exclamation was a welcome distraction. Samuel stepped away from the plant he¡¯d been harvesting and wiped his sweaty brow. Despite the way they looked, the leaves were rather dense and took a bit of force to remove from the thick stem. The soldiers didn¡¯t seem to struggle but it was strenuous for the prince who preferred to exercise his taste buds rather than his muscles.

    The soldier had taken his command to heart. Samuel wasn¡¯t exactly sure of the time but he¡¯d guess at least a bell had passed since he was sent to retrieve the camp¡¯s overseers. That was a long time to be a nuisance, but he produced results, bringing both Alyssa and Lane with him. He could imagine the instructor stomping over, ready to verbally tear him to shreds, only to be shocked into silence by Orum¡¯s feat.

    ¡°You¡¯re finally here.¡± Samuel didn¡¯t bother to hide his ire. Admittedly, they were busy, but they had ignored a royal¡¯s summons. The least they could have done was send an acolyte to see to his concerns. Being dismissed was as familiar as it was frustrating. ¡°To answer your question, this is food and a lot of it. Something the camp needs, no?¡±

    ¡°All of this is food?¡± Alyssa said in wonder, looking at the field with new eyes. ¡°How¡­¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡± Lane asked. He stepped forward and touched one of the bare stems that had already been harvested of its leaves. ¡°I¡¯m not from a farming family but this isn¡¯t like any food I know. I mean, I guess it kind of looks like lettuce or¡­something.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it started as, but this is its appearance after being changed by the magic of a physical master.¡±

    ¡°A physical master that can do something like isn¡¯t¡ª" Alyssa froze mid-sentence, then cursed. ¡°The elf. Kierra¡¯s father.¡±

    ¡°You know about their relation?¡±

    ¡°Of course I know about their relation! You think I¡¯d let just anyone walk around when I¡¯ve got people setting off bombs?¡± Alyssa scoffed. ¡°He do this?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Fucking ancestors. A whole field raised in a morning? The fort would kiss that man¡¯s toes for this little trick. Well? Anyone tasted this miracle?¡±

    ¡°One of the soldiers,¡± Ewan said with an annoyed frown. ¡°He got curious and decided to take a bite.¡± His tone betrayed how disappointed the knight was in his subordinate¡¯s lack of caution. ¡°He says that the leaf is bitter and chewy, but there are no obvious problems with it.¡±

    ¡°There won¡¯t be,¡± Samuel said. ¡°Orum doesn¡¯t need to play games if he means us harm.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so quick to think you know another person¡¯s mind. The world doesn¡¯t seem to care too much for reason these days.¡± Alyssa eyed the plants, notably that several baskets had been filled with leaves and only a fraction of the plants had been harvested. ¡°Which is why Lane is going to run as fast as he can back to the camp and find me someone who can verify that this isn¡¯t poison before they start preparing dinner and send back a dozen acolytes with twice as many containers to help. Because this is far too good of an opportunity to pass up.¡±

    ¡°On it!¡± Lane dashed off with all the enthusiasm of a hound being sent to fetch a stick.

    Meanwhile, his owner approached one of the plants. With a grunt of effort, she pulled off one of the leaves, and, after considering it for a moment, took a large bite out of it.

    ¡°Miss Filagree!¡±

    ¡°Relax,¡± she said, waving off the knight¡¯s rebuke. ¡°I¡¯m inclined to agree with the prince. I had a conversation with Orum when he first picked Yulia up. His daughter gets her blunt personality from him. If they want to hurt someone, they¡¯d waltz right up to them and snap their necks because who is going to stop them? Those monsters wouldn¡¯t stoop to poisoning starving refugees.¡±

    She frowned as she swallowed her mouthful. ¡°Though this is disgusting. Ugh. Hopefully the cooks can do something with it. Don¡¯t want to drown out the goodwill this is going to generate because people can¡¯t stomach the stuff.¡±

    ¡°That concerned with improving your reputation?¡± Samuel asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not great but more important is improving the Hall¡¯s reputation. The rebels are building support by telling people that we don¡¯t give a damn, that we can¡¯t solve their problems. This? This solves a huge fucking problem. Armies march on their stomachs. Forget the mob. We might be able to break these bastards without throwing a single spell. We¡¯ll put the word out that the first idiot that turns on his friends gets leniency and a decent meal¡­¡±

    Alyssa cackled as she rolled up her sleeves, no trace of the exhaustion suggested by the dark bags under her eyes in her smile. ¡°Bout time something went our way.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-24

    ¡°They¡¯re talking about you, you know.¡±

    Once more, Samuel was seated in the dining room of the Gold Dorm with Cecilia. It¡¯d been days since he¡¯d last invited her out. He hadn¡¯t been entirely sure that it was appropriate, given their last conversation, but there were few people he trusted enough to confide in.

    The reason he needed a sympathetic ear was all around them. As a prince, Samuel was used to drawing attention, but since the previous weekend, it¡¯d gotten almost unbearable. Everywhere he went, gazes followed him and whispers tickled his ears. Samuel was under constant scrutiny in public and there was an intensity to the attention that unnerved him. The eyes, they were¡­bright. Hopeful.

    He was used to calculating gazes, harsh gazes, even indifferent gazes. He didn¡¯t know what to do with the rampant admiration that had infected the acolytes.

    Cecilia didn¡¯t share his concerns. She seemed worn down, her blonde hair pulled into a thoughtless bun and her clothes more casual than he¡¯d ever seen, but she smiled as she subtly scanned the room. A lazy finger pointed at him. ¡°You want to hear my personal favorite?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°The Spinach Prince.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Isn¡¯t it great?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the opposite of great,¡± he grumbled. He waved off the server that arrived with the wine he ordered, along with two glasses. He hastily filled one and gulped down the contents, uncaring about the crass image it presented.

    ¡°You don¡¯t like being fawned over?¡± Her tone said she wouldn¡¯t believe him if he said no.

    ¡°Fawning is fine in moderation, but this is something different. They¡¯re¡­they¡¯re¡­¡±

    ¡°Showering you with sincere compliments rather than empty flattery? Horrible.¡±

    The prince frowned. ¡°You jest but it is horrible.¡± Because with those compliments came expectations. Samuel leaned forward, dropping his voice though a part of him wished someone would eavesdrop on the conversation. ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing deserving of their praise. Orum created that field of his own accord. If anything, I was his excuse. They¡¯re looking at me for answers and they shouldn¡¯t. I don¡¯t have any.¡±

    The noblewoman considered his words as she poured herself a generous drink. ¡°Do you think leaders are born or made?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Leaders. Heroes. Legends. Do you think they¡¯re born or made?¡±

    ¡°What does this have to do with¡ª"

    ¡°Just answer the question. Come on. Humor me.¡±

    ¡°¡­I suppose they¡¯re born.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Of course. You can¡¯t become a hero without talent and talent is decided at birth.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true. But heroes don¡¯t come out of the wound smiting monsters. Saints don¡¯t save the innocents while they¡¯re crawling. To bring the metaphor to a more personal level, kings are just little princelings before they put on the crown.¡±

    ¡°Everyone has to grow up. That doesn¡¯t change the natural gap between those who can and those who can¡¯t.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Yes, but those that can¡¯t, can learn. Or those that with that natural ability you put so much faith in can choose to live mundane lives, squandering their talents.¡±

    The prince sighed. ¡°I still don¡¯t see how this helps me, but for argument¡¯s sake, I¡¯ll agree that great figures are made. There. Now, what does that have to do with my situation?¡±

    ¡°Come on, Prince Samuel. You¡¯re no fool. Leaders are made by their circumstances and decisions. Perception is influence. Influence is power. Therefore, perception is power.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to echo our childhood lessons.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t I? You are the source of an action that has saved the lives of quite literally more people than I can count. Who cares if you meant to do it? You¡¯re a hero now, your highness. The people¡¯s perception of you has been drastically raised, giving you incredible power. Quest is in a dangerous place, one step away from another tragedy. You¡¯ve just become one of the people who has a say in the future of this city, no, the future of the kingdom, and you¡¯re upset about it?¡±

    ¡°I never asked for that responsibility.¡±

    ¡°There was a time you wanted nothing more than the ultimate responsibility.¡±

    ¡°I never¡ª" Samuel stopped himself before his voice could get too loud. ¡°I never wanted the throne,¡± he hissed. ¡°I wanted¡­¡± He wanted to be more than the second prince, the spare. He wanted to prove he was good enough. But the realities of ruling? Those, his brother was more than welcome to.

    Cecilia sighed. ¡°That¡¯s a shame. Truly. As your friend, I feel like I have to tell you that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you¡¯re throwing away. But¡­as your friend, I will also support your choice. So, I remind you, you are the one with the power. If you don¡¯t want it, then it¡¯s yours to give away.¡±

    Samuel scoffed. ¡°I can¡¯t just give¡­¡± He trailed off as her words sparked an idea in his mind. ¡°An endorsement.¡±

    The noblewoman took a long sip of her drink, waving for him to continue the thought.

    ¡°I call a meeting to talk with the refugees, tell them that the field wouldn¡¯t have been possible without the Hall¡¯s assistance and reassure them that the Hall is doing everything it can to help them,¡± he mused. ¡°I give them my good reputation.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t erase the legend of the Spinach Prince but if you tell people to go to the Hall for answers enough times, eventually, they¡¯ll stop coming to you.¡±

    ¡°¡­no.¡± The prince was a bit embarrassed that he hadn¡¯t come up with such an obvious idea on his own and hoped it could be blamed on his better reasoning subconsciously disregarding the plan for its flaws. ¡°The reason the people are latching onto me so strongly is because they don¡¯t trust the Hall. They blame them for the attack, for not doing more to protect them.¡±

    ¡°Then give it to someone else who can make use of it.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    Cecilia chuckled. ¡°While I¡¯m flattered in your faith in me, I don¡¯t know everything, your highness. It might require a bit of effort, but I¡¯m sure there are plenty of people trying to help the city. If a pampered lady like me is willing to get her hands dirty, I¡¯m sure there a dozen budding heroes in the ruins of Quest, waiting for the chance to save the day. Sponsor them. Sponsor the person who will sponsor them if you want to keep a distance. Or you can relax and wait it out. Even legends die.¡±

    ¡°¡­hm. Thank you. Your advice has proved insightful.¡± As he knew it would. Cecilia always had a calm mind capable of seeing a straight path through chaos. She never let her emotions get the best of her. A trait that had no doubt let her expertly handle his attentions over the years.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad I was able to help. Really, I¡¯m glad that you felt comfortable calling on me.¡±

    ¡°I had no one else to turn to.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Not even the man who has sworn to sacrifice his life for yours should the need arise?¡±

    Samuel shook his head. ¡°Please. Ewan and the rest of the soldiers are my father¡¯s men. Or rather, the kingdom¡¯s.¡± He doubted the knights, who each wielded enough power to decimate a hundred soldiers, had much respect for his very ordinary father. ¡°If I brought my concerns to him, he¡¯d push me to ¡®act for the benefit of the kingdom¡¯ or something of that sort. And you are well aware of how trustworthy my apparent friends are.¡± One of them had been plotting the prince¡¯s death from his side.

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m sorry if my outburst in the past strained things between us.¡± He was starting to understand what she meant about his feelings getting in the way of what they could become. It still hurt to be around her, her rejection a soft echo in his thoughts no matter the topic, but there was more between them than his broken heart. Something he¡¯d regret letting go. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I would ask for more of your time. To discuss this further.¡±

    ¡°Then we better order dinner,¡± she said, waving down a server.

 Miniarc-Villains-25

    Samuel was familiar with the use of patsies. It was standard practice for anyone in power to operate through them, poor men and women who jumped at the chance to wield a portion of a noble¡¯s influence, unaware that they were lambs being led to slaughter. Commoners didn¡¯t have a high opinion of nobles, but revolts were incredibly rare. Besides the stark difference in ability between a trained knight and an irate farmer wielding a plow, the reason why was because the villains learned to divert their bad reputations onto scapegoats that were sacrificed on the altar of public opinion every other season. A constant stream of punished villains gave the disadvantaged hope that the powerful people that did terrible things would get their comeuppance one day. They didn¡¯t have to risk themselves and their families, for the saints would always punish evil.

    The prince had done the same, on a much smaller scale and for less sinister reasons. A child didn¡¯t think of the consequences when he blamed a servant for misdeeds. To his young mind, punishment equaled a scolding from his mother and a disappointed frown from his father. He didn¡¯t know accusing a servant of breaking or tarnishing art far beyond their means could doom their entire family.

    Growing up, his tutors didn¡¯t teach him nonsense about taking responsibility for his faults. Rather, they urged him to be more judicious in how he assigned blame as well as credit. Strangely, it was harder to give someone an undeserved merit than an unwelcome sanction. The harsh realities of the world meant that people expected betrayals. No one expected to receive commendations, especially for things they hadn¡¯t done. It made them suspicious. Those that would jump at such a chance weren¡¯t the kind that the prince would wanted wielding a powerful reputation.

    He debated over his predicament between attending classes. With each passing day, his desire to shuck his unwanted notoriety intensified. Namely, because his fame continued to increase. He had no problem keeping an ear on the situation in the camp because it was all anyone could talk about.

    Orum¡¯s garden was producing food at a prodigious rate, something the Hall, with its dwindling supplies, was very interested in. A fresh wave of acolytes had descended on the camp with the sole mission of extending the field. The miraculous plants could be harvested every three days and, incredibly, grew more leaves when properly tended. In the week since their planting, they¡¯d already solved the food crisis, but that was only the beginning of the plants¡¯ effect.

    With bellies full of nutritious food and hearts sparked by hope, the lifeless refugees appeared to have more energy. Several had gone back into the city, seeking what they could salvage of their homes. Many questioned what the city, functionally the Hall as they were the ones who seemed to have the most authority, planned to do about rebuilding the city and compensating those displaced. The professionals amongst them wanted to get back to work and the restless were looking for ways to help. There were rumors that work groups were being assembled to begin clearing the rubble. It was the beginning of a very long road, but the people of Quest were ready to move forward, something the prince couldn¡¯t imagine the first time he laid eyes on the camp.

    All of this was being laid at his feet. Forget the Spinach Prince, though the moniker remained popular with the younger acolytes. The people were calling him the Prince of Progress. The Merciful Prince. The Silver-Tongued Prince. A man whose words could change the future. The more benefits the field provided, the more his legend grew. The people in power had yet to be swayed by the undeserved adulation but the invites the prince had received to lunch in the private rooms of influential sons, and a few daughters, was staggering.

    The circumstances led to Samuel returning to the camp for another weekend. His reasons were twofold. First, he wanted to see the progress of the field. While it was troublesome to have the miracle connected to him, the constant association had fostered a faint feeling of possessiveness, easily explained as curiosity. There was also undeniable wonder. He wanted to see the field¡¯s progress with his own eyes. To touch one of the dark green leaves again, touch true power.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The second and more important reason he wanted to return to the camp was to meet the refugees pushing to take back the city. After careful consideration, the prince decided that the group most deserving of his undeserved reputation were the people who¡¯d given it to him. They didn¡¯t trust anyone but themselves so he would ¡°give¡± them control of their destinies. His hope was that he would shake hands with their leader and spout some encouraging words about how the crown supported them.

    If he was lucky, it would restore some of their lost faith in the royal family, but he¡¯d be satisfied if they were simply given the confidence to pursue their own solutions rather than hoping he would come up with another miracle.

    Ewan took no chances, gathering the rest of the soldiers in the Hall to provide an escort. Whether it was the extra manpower or the revealing light of day, Samuel arrived at the camp without incident. As always, gazes followed his carriage, but there was a different feeling behind the hundreds of eyes that tracked his progress. There was life in the crowd. Some of the children even tried to approach, held back by worried parents.

    It was as if he was a returning hero. If Samuel could stop thinking about the complications that came with it, he¡¯d have to admit the feeling was intoxicating. He might have cringed if they did something as gaudy as applauding his passage, but the quiet admiration had him sitting taller, despite no one being able to get a good look at him through the open shutters of his carriage.

    Lane was waiting when they arrived outside of Alyssa¡¯s tent, or rather their tent. He was so accustomed to seeing the man there, it was hard to imagine him being anywhere else. For someone that was supposedly fine with being friends, he was sticking very close to the object of his desire. ¡°Your highness. What can I do for you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve come with a proposition. I will help organize the groups that wish to go into the city.¡±

    ¡°What? I mean, uh.¡± Lane scratched at the unruly stubble along his chin. Samuel forced back a grimace. The man was starting to look shabby. He feared that if Lane didn¡¯t get a proper rest soon, the dark bags under his eyes would become permanent. ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°Thing is, we don¡¯t want any groups in the city. The rebels¡¯ base of operations has to be in there. Until we find out where, it¡¯s just asking for trouble, but the Hall doesn¡¯t have the manpower or the inclination to round them up. We¡¯re trying to get the guards to move but the captain is a right mole of a bastard. I doubt we¡¯ll see anything of him until the capital sends peacekeeping forces. Gah, I¡¯m getting off track. Basically, no one¡¯s going into the city.¡±

    ¡°Then what are the people supposed to do all day? Only so many hands can work in the field.¡±

    ¡°Ah, none of the refugees are working in the field. Can¡¯t take a chance one of the rebels gets through and sabotages the food supply again. Saints, we¡¯re looking real hard at the acolytes too. Those plants are worth more than their weight in gold. A lot more.¡±

    ¡°Then what do you mean to do with the thousands of people simply lying about?¡± Samuel didn¡¯t presume to think he was better trained than the people in charge, even Lane, but only an idiot would think forcing anxious people into cramped spaces without anyway to vent their energy was a good idea.

    ¡°Obviously we want to get people back in the city as soon as possible. We just want to make sure it¡¯s safe before we do.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s safer than being escorted by two royal knights?¡± the prince asked with a raised brow.

    ¡°Er, I mean, they can¡¯t guarantee that they can protect everyone. A bomb goes off and their priorities will be you first and themselves second.¡±

    Samuel nodded. That much could have gone without saying. Guards were peacekeepers who were expected to risk life and limb keeping the citizens of the kingdom safe. Royal knights were the crown¡¯s shields, protecting the royal blood. Soldiers were the crown¡¯s swords, sharpened to slay its enemies. The life of a refugee wasn¡¯t worth the life of an experienced veteran. The army didn¡¯t train heroes that were willing to sacrifice themselves for a stray kitten. They had a duty and that duty trumped everything else.

    ¡°We explain the dangers. Those who are still willing to come can do so.¡± The kind of personality that Samuel was looking for wouldn¡¯t shy away from danger. If anything, the threat of the rebels was an efficient way for him to sort out the bad actors from the viable candidates. He found that villains were usually cowards; the worst characters back home often were the most passive in person, folding before any kind of confrontation. ¡°It¡¯s their home. If they want to risk their lives restoring it and defying the criminals defiling it, who are we to tell them they can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­I mean¡­I think we need to wake Boss.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-26

    Alyssa wasn¡¯t happy being woken.

    She was less happy about being woken by the whims of a stubborn prince. Samuel never saw her, but he wouldn¡¯t be surprised if half the camp heard her shouted, ¡°Let the fucker do whatever he wants!¡± Lane exited the tent with lightly flushed cheeks and asked for a moment to arrange a few things before they saw to the prince¡¯s demands.

    Samuel agreed, as a runner also needed to be sent to inform Sir Frost, who had remained behind to search for the rebels, about their plans. Lane¡¯s ¡°things¡± turned out to be seven acolytes. The prince was confused about the additions to his escort until Lane informed him that the acolytes were those who¡¯d been most vocal about allowing the refugees to return to the city with the Hall¡¯s support. They also had connections with the refugees and would ease Samuel¡¯s goal of organizing them, making them welcome additions.

    ¡°Greetings, your highness,¡± one of them said as he bypassed all decorum by snatching the prince¡¯s hand and shaking it vigorously. He was an impressive figure, nearly matching Samuel in height and carrying the kind of heavy muscle Dowager would admire. He had a face meant for a soldier too, with a weak chin and a bulbous nose that could only be improved by a few choice scars. The red robe he wore over a simple shirt and pants denoted him as a fire caster, a rather common talent for the Hall. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how much I appreciate what you¡¯re doing for us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing nothing,¡± Samuel immediately rebuked. ¡°It¡¯s up to the people of Quest to take back their city.¡± And the problem out of his hands.

    ¡°Well said.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m not surprised to see you here,¡± Samuel said, as he turned to Robert. As usual of late, the young hero was spaced out, gazing at nothing. He snapped to attention when another acolyte nudged him, blinking rapidly as he forced himself to focus.

    His smile was weak, the bags under his eyes even more pronounced than Lane¡¯s. ¡°Ah, yes. I¡¯ve been hoping to help rebuild the city since being assigned to the camp. I don¡¯t know how much use I¡¯ll be, but I¡¯ll give it all I have.¡±

    ¡°Every hand counts,¡± the enthusiastic acolyte said. ¡°Quin has been a model volunteer. The trust between the Hall and the people is strained but the efforts of good men is slowly repairing it.¡±

    The prince held back a frown. It was clear where the man stood on the question on whether the Hall should be doing more to help the people.

    ¡°Alright.¡± Lane clapped his hands to make sure the group was paying attention to him. ¡°This is a trial run so we¡¯re starting small, clearing a little debris at the edge of the city and salvaging what we can. Kern will oversee organizing the volunteers from the city. However, Sir Reed oversees security. I advise everyone to take his words to heart. The rebels are still at large, and this is real danger, not a lesson where the instructor will swoop in to save you if you do something stupid.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°You¡¯re risking your lives. More importantly, the people going out with you are risking their lives. Maybe you didn¡¯t sign up to be heroes, but by pushing for this, you¡¯re making a promise to protect them. If you fail, no one¡¯s going to condemn you, but you¡¯ll have to live with that. If you aren¡¯t resolved, now¡¯s the time to back out.¡±

    Lane nodded to himself when no one moved. ¡°Next thing we need to get straight. The rebels and what to do with them. The Hall is offering a bounty of three silver for every rebel brought back alive. Aside from that¡­well, there isn¡¯t a whole lot of law and order in the city. Do what you need to do but, remember, you¡¯re the ones that have to live with it.

    ¡°Last, scavenging rules. No one better slip anything into their pockets. Everything is to be brought back to the camp to be catalogued and eventually returned. These people have already been through enough. The last thing they need is the people they¡¯re counting on for help stealing their family legacies.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Kern, who Samuel was starting to think of as the leader of the volunteers, raised his voice and squared his broad shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ll take the hand of any bastard that dares.¡±

    ¡°Actually, don¡¯t. It¡¯s good enough to report to me, I¡¯d rather take care of it.¡±

    Kern didn¡¯t retract his vow.

    Lane didn¡¯t push, sighing deeply. ¡°¡­suppose I¡¯ll leave you all to it. Good luck and saints watch over you.¡± With a look of trepidation, he left the group.

    Kern opened his mouth, ready to take charge, but Ewan beat him to it, the acolyte¡¯s words dying on his lips. He had just been warned to pay attention to what he said but Samuel imagined it was unnecessary. Only a fool would ever think of ignoring the words of a royal knight.

    ¡°I will be deploying all the forces I brought with me for this mission, but we¡¯re too little for a proper protection detail. I¡¯d recommend bringing no more than a dozen people.¡±

    ¡°A dozen?¡± Kern barked incredulously. ¡°There are hundreds of people ready to work and a whole city that needs tending to.¡±

    ¡°My duty is to protect the prince, but as a knight and a soldier, I don¡¯t want to see anyone else hurt. I can¡¯t guarantee the safety of even one more person, let alone a hundred. You¡¯re in charge of these refugees, which is why my words were merely a suggestion, but I¡¯d be remiss I didn¡¯t make it clear that with every body you add, the less effective my men will be.¡±

    Kern frowned as he considered. After several breaths, he shook his head. ¡°Twelve is too little. The most I could limit the group to is¡­sixty.¡±

    The prince scoffed. ¡°That goes beyond putting their lives on the line.¡± With so many people, the best Ewan could do was keep an eye on those closest to the prince. The crowd would be easy to pick off.

    ¡°As you¡¯ve said, it¡¯s their risk to take. Besides, they¡¯re not entirely helpless. Many of those that want to work are former hunters. They won¡¯t be armed properly but they have their magic and their experience.¡±

    All the experience in the world wouldn¡¯t do them much good if someone decided to rain fire on them without warning. Despite his thoughts, Samuel kept his mouth shut. It made no difference to him if a few dozen people got themselves killed. He was trying to discard his identity as a champion of the downtrodden. The last thing he needed to be seen doing was pleading with them to care for their lives.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this done.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-27

    Samuel wasn¡¯t thrilled to be working within the ruins of the city, but he was anxious to be doing something. He wasn¡¯t opposed to lying about so long as he was lazing in comfort, preferably on a plush chair with a tray of fruits, cheese, and wine within arm¡¯s reach. Standing around with his figurative thumb up his ass while others rushed about was incredibly boring. Some might think the vigorous shouting of determined men invigorating or the heartfelt well wishes of those sending them off sweet, but the prince found it all too pedestrian.

    Samuel almost praised the saints when Kern finally separated from the chaos to speak with him. ¡°Your highness, we¡¯ve finished our preparations.¡±

    ¡°Good. Ewan¡ªI will let Sir Reed know. Once his men are in position, we can get moving.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I was hoping you¡¯d say a few words.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°For motivation. It would mean a lot to the men, I think.¡±

    Samuel stared at the other man, holding in his disbelief. The idea of him delivering a rousing speech was ludicrous; no one had ever mistaken him for a leader of men. Yet, he also couldn¡¯t bring himself to refuse, to admit that he couldn¡¯t. His lips twisted into a sour expression as he debated with himself, the war within his mind forced to proceed at a rapid pace as Kern¡¯s hopeful gaze pushed at him. Finally, the prince huffed.

    ¡°I suppose I can say something.¡±

    ¡°Great. I¡¯ll tell everyone.¡±

    As the enthusiastic man ran off, Samuel wondered what someone said to rouse a group of peasants to tackle a day¡¯s hard labor amongst the remnants of the worst tragedy of their lives. Expectedly, he came up blank so he looked for advice.

    ¡°A speech, is it?¡± Ewan said with a chuckle. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know the first thing, your highness. Soldiers don¡¯t need much encouragement to hunt down monsters and I never saw major conflict as an officer. Good luck.¡±

    The prince contemplated asking the more experienced Sir Frost but couldn¡¯t catch a moment alone with him before Kern came to fetch him. Then he was standing before the crowd, several dozen men, a third of them holding tools awkwardly, standing in a disorganized mob before a line of wagons. He couldn¡¯t be more different from the men covered in days of filth, propped up by false pride. He shouldn¡¯t be standing where he was. They shouldn¡¯t be looking to him.

    Unfortunately, his certainty of the wrongness of his circumstances wouldn¡¯t change them. They were waiting and the faster he got on with it, the faster it would be over.

    Samuel¡¯s first attempt to speak was subverted by a sudden spawning of wriggling worms in his gut, an anxiety he refused to acknowledge. He cleared his throat and locked his knees, his second attempt to speak coming out with barely a hitch.

    ¡°Men of Quest.¡± What did people about to walk into a nightmare want to hear? Surely, they didn¡¯t want him to tell them that everything would be okay? They weren¡¯t children coming to their mothers. What would men picking up the pieces of their lives want to hear from the man who represented the crown that was meant to care for them, protect them?

    ¡°¡­the journey you are about to embark on isn¡¯t a glorious one. It is dark and bitter. It is also long. You will work for hours, you¡¯ll put everything you have into it, and it won¡¯t make a dent in the damage. A tragedy can¡¯t be wiped away overnight.

    ¡°But, if you don¡¯t give in, if you keep faith, then the wounds of the past can be healed. Be careful, as there are those who would take advantage of this sorrow to sow discord, who wish to take what little you have. Have no mercy on them, for they are not only your enemies but the enemies of the kingdom, of everyone¡¯s tomorrow. As you break apart the remnants of your home, remember! This is your city. And by the blessing of the crown and the saints, you will claim it again!¡±

    The prince didn¡¯t know what he was saying after his greeting, working off half-remembered literature and his fuzzy memories of playing general with his older brother. Still, the men gave him a cheer in response, though it wasn¡¯t the loudest, and returned to their preparations with whispering insults. The prince decided it was a victory and made a hasty, though dignified, escape, walking toward the front of the procession where Ewan waited with a big smile.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Quite inspirational, my prince.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t make fun. It¡¯s beneath you.¡±

    ¡°No, no. I mean it. Couldn¡¯t have done better myself I wager.¡±

    Samuel decided to simply ignore him. ¡°Are we ready?¡±

    ¡°Simply give the word.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    -

    When Lane said that they would be working along the edge of the city, he meant the very edge. Samuel thought he would be traveling in his carriage, but Ewan informed it that it wasn¡¯t necessary. And it wasn¡¯t. They walked just past the eastern gate before Kern put the men to work. They swarmed around the nearest shattered building, breaking the wood and stone into smaller pieces before loading the debris onto wagons to be carted off. Magic was used to make a large hole, where the debris was poured.

    It didn¡¯t clean the mess, but it made it more manageable, and the men worked with surprising speed. In no time, the first house was cleared, the usable goods from inside put into crates and set aside to be returned to the camp.

    Samuel wasn¡¯t idle. He didn¡¯t work nearly as hard as the enthusiastic men and chose a less demanding job, sorting through the belongings they found. It was as simple as he hoped but surprisingly sobering.

    It was hard for the prince to empathize with the plight of the refugees. Intellectually, he could understand the gravity of their circumstances and the sight of them was pitiful, but he couldn¡¯t truly empathize with them.

    To struggle was the fate of those born without means. If it wasn¡¯t a mad summoner causing the destruction, it could just as easily be monsters, bandits, and natural disasters ruining their lives. If he allowed himself to feel for them once, his heart would never stop hurting. Part of his education had been learning to put himself above such things.

    But it was hard to remain detached when holding the doll of a child. A bloodstained doll. It was enough to draw a terrible conclusion but the prince wasn¡¯t allowed the luxury of wonder. The body soon followed the doll; it wasn¡¯t the first or the last. Kern had thought of the eventuality and prepared sheets to cover them¡­but it wasn¡¯t nearly enough.

    Samuel tried not to look but his gaze kept being drawn to them, their mangled flesh, twisted skeletons, and crushed limbs. And the smell. Saints, he didn¡¯t know how he hadn¡¯t noticed it from the start. But with each hunk of stone and board of wood that was removed, the stench worsened. It was worse than anything he¡¯d ever had the misfortune of inhaling, like rotten meat and the latrines of the camp mixed with the worst filth the Abyss had ever swallowed.

    Samuel had to take several breaks to get away from it. Eventually, Ewan offered him a cloth to wrap around his nose. All the other soldiers and many of the men had already done so. It did little to help but no one else was complaining so the prince powered through his discomfort.

    He was in the middle of loading another full crate of salvaged belongings onto a wagon when he caught a faint trace of raised voices. His eyes found two men squaring off against one another and he wandered over, along with several others drawn by the drama.

    One was clearly a worker, a shovel held in his hand and his face grimy with dust and wood shavings. The other wasn¡¯t right. A casual glance wouldn¡¯t detect anything wrong, as he had the same shabby appearance as the rest of the men. But the prince had been taught to observe, to ferret out people¡¯s intentions from their appearance.

    He noticed that the man¡¯s face was fuller than the starving refugees, full of health. He also had nicer shoes, thick-soled boots made of good leather. The most obvious detail that screamed the second man did not belong was his hair. It was clean and combed, only slightly mussed from moving about. None of the refugees paid so much attention to their grooming.

    ¡°¡ªsaying you¡¯re an idiot if you think this changes anything. You¡¯re all wasting your time, cleaning up their mess and making it easier for them to take this city,¡± the oddly clean man shouted.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t want to be here, you can go!¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯m not going anywhere. I owe it to the corpses being pulled out of their homes to give them a decent burial. I just can¡¯t stand your empty-headed gibbering about the so-called mercy of the Hall and the crown when they¡¯re the reason we¡¯re in this mess!¡±

    ¡°You.¡±

    The two men turned to Samuel as he stopped before them. He didn¡¯t have to look to know that Ewan was at his shoulder, as the royal knight had been shadowing him closely throughout the day. If the strange man acted on the obvious hate in his gaze, he wouldn¡¯t live long enough to regret it. ¡°You are holding up the work. If you insist on insulting good people, at least do it quietly. If you care about these people and this city, then show it.¡±

    The prince cringed as the man spit to the side. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, prince? Upset I¡¯m not licking your boots like the rest of these dogs?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already told you why I¡¯m upset. Continue, and I will have you removed.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, cause that¡¯s what you do when someone stands up to you, isn¡¯t it? You swat them aside like a bug. When are you people going to wake up!¡± the man shouted, snarling as he whipped his head around like a wild animal surrounded by enemies. A finger pointed at Samuel¡¯s direction. ¡°Don¡¯t you understand? That¡¯s the enemy!¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-28

    Samuel didn¡¯t expect the people of Quest to trust him. That was why his growing legend was so surprising. He also couldn¡¯t find fault with them for disdaining the Hall, as it was natural for those without to hate those that had.

    However, calling him the enemy was excessive. The man¡¯s whole demeanor felt exaggerated. The more Samuel watched him, the less his darting eyes came off as panic, seeming more like a gesture meant to catch as many eyes as possible, to draw them into his performance.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t you people see the obvious?¡± the performer shouted again, raising his voice to ensure the whole growing crowd could hear him. ¡°The crown doesn¡¯t care about you. Not even these soldiers care. Where were they when your friends and family were being slaughtered? Are they here to protect you now? Or are they covering their own asses, like always?¡±

    ¡°Oi, shut up, you heel!¡± an older man in the crowd shouted. ¡°That prince has done more to help us than you so quit complaining.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really? What exactly did the Spinach Prince do? Huh? I know! Not a damn thing!¡± The man glared at Samuel, as if he was the one making a scene. ¡°An elf grew all that food. One of the elves that destroyed the city. That did that!¡± He waved a hand at the bodies.

    ¡°You¡¯re eating food grown by bloodstained hands. Food meant to pacify you, like meat thrown at mutts. You don¡¯t even realize you¡¯re being groomed, do you? First, they break you. Then they save you. You¡¯re thinking that they¡¯re not all that bad, aren¡¯t you? That some of them are good, trustworthy. It¡¯s all a trick. They feed you a little hope, and make you work for them. Then, when you¡¯ve shed blood, sweat and tears clearing your broken homes, they¡¯ll finish taking the city. They¡¯ll leave you with nothing.¡±

    Samuel couldn¡¯t help it. He laughed. He knew he shouldn¡¯t, the atmosphere was too charged for humor, but he couldn¡¯t help it. The man was simply too much with his peacocking and accusations.

    ¡°You think good people losing everything is funny?¡±

    ¡°No. I think you¡¯re funny. Who are you to claim to know everything about everyone? To see secrets that no one else can see?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not special. I just choose to open my eyes.¡±

    ¡°Then perhaps you can open your ears. Listen, as I explain why you¡¯re so hopelessly wrong, it¡¯s too sad to even pity. This is no trick. No one is plotting against you for one very simple reason. You¡¯re not worth it.¡±

    ¡°What did you¡ª"

    ¡°I said you¡¯re worthless!¡± Samuel shouted over the man. ¡°You¡¯re nothing. Those poor bastards?¡± The prince jabbed a finger in the direction of the dead bodies. ¡°They don¡¯t mean anything, not to the monsters that can break a city and save it with the same ease. You know what real power is. You¡¯ve seen it. Those people don¡¯t need to trick you. I¡¯d bet every crown in the royal treasury that they haven¡¯t given any of you a second thought.¡±

    ¡°If they don¡¯t care, then why¡ª"

    ¡°Because they don¡¯t care,¡± Samuel hissed, annoyance creeping into his voice. ¡°People that strong, people that can do what they can do, you mean nothing to them. A city means nothing to them. A prince means nothing to them. Tell me, oh wise sage that sees the hidden truths of the world. What is all your complaining doing?¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    The man scoffed. ¡°At least I know who I am. I have pride.¡±

    ¡°Is your pride going to feed these people? You!¡± Samuel pointed to a man in the crowd, who jumped under the attention. ¡°Can you eat this idiot¡¯s pride?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­no, your lordship. I mean, highness.¡±

    ¡°How about you?¡± Samuel asked another man.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t if I could. Probably catch the stupid from that one.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, old man!¡± the peacock shouted.

    ¡°Now you¡¯re insulting the people you¡¯re trying to save?¡± the prince scolded. ¡°What good is that so-called pride of yours? What can it do for you? You insult these people for accepting charity? Why shouldn¡¯t they? Pride can¡¯t feed them or their children. Pride isn¡¯t going to bury the dead and rebuild their homes. Pride isn¡¯t going to keep them warm at night. If charity makes their lives easier, who cares where it comes from?

    ¡°They don¡¯t have to like me, the elves, or the saints. I don¡¯t care if the crown is cursed by the families of Quest for the next seven generations. But what I can¡¯t forgive is a useless loudmouth making a hard job even harder. Now, I¡¯m done talking to you and I¡¯m taking the choice out of your hands. Get out of our work site. I don¡¯t care where you go or what you do as long as you¡¯re out of the way.¡±

    ¡°What? You can¡¯t do that!¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t? Are you forgetting who you¡¯re talking to?¡±

    With timing a theatre director would applaud, three soldiers stepped out of the crowd.

    ¡°They will escort you. Begone.¡±

    The man looked around him once more before clicking his tongue. He marched toward the prince and Ewan smoothly stepped between them, his tense body no less intimidating despite his lack of armor.

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to take this forever,¡± the man growled, showing a respectable spine or a scornful sense of self-preservation. ¡°You have them cowed now but one day, the people of Quest are going to wake up and see you for what you really are. We¡¯re going to take back our city, for real. There will be a reckoning¡ª"

    ¡°Why are you still here?¡± The prince gestured and two soldiers appeared at the man¡¯s sides. Each one grabbed him under the shoulder and lifted him off his feet, carrying him away. He continued to shout despite his circumstances, legs kicking ineffectually. ¡°Mark my words, Dog Prince! Quest belongs to the people! Down with the Hall! Down with the crown! Down with the Tome!¡±

    ¡°What are you all doing?¡± Samuel asked the crowd, who seemed spellbound by the man¡¯s ravings. ¡°My men and I return to the camp at sunset. If you have any intention of joining us, I suggest we stop wasting daylight.¡±

    ¡°¡­you all heard ¡®im,¡± an older man shouted, shouldering his shovel. ¡°Are you just going to stand around like that other idiot or are you going to earn your dinner?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for an answer before stomping off, muttering something too low for Samuel to make out. Like fish following the current of a river, the rest of the refugees followed, returning to their duties.

    Samuel also returned to the wagons, the men there stepping aside respectfully so he could take his former place. ¡°Ewan,¡± he said softly while unfolding a dirty blanket.

    ¡°Your highness?¡±

    ¡°That man.¡±

    ¡°He is being detained.¡±

    ¡°As expected of a royal knight.¡± It was plain as day that the man making a scene wasn¡¯t simply discontent. Someone with such strong feelings wouldn¡¯t involve themselves with the restoration efforts¡­unless they had an agenda. Only one group had an agenda against the camp, though he was a little surprised they¡¯d be so obvious.

    ¡°Interrogate him yourselves before turning him over to the Hall. These rebels are breeding dissent against the royal family.¡± He could turn a blind eye against them if they reserved their hate for the Tome clan, but he couldn¡¯t leave actual traitors free to conspire against his father. More importantly, there was no way the royal knights could. If so, it was better that he support them and be kept in the know, rather than force the soldiers to act behind his back.

    ¡°It will be done. We will know everything about these rebels before morning.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-29

    ¡°He¡¯s not a rebel?¡±

    When Samuel returned to the camp the following morning, the first thing he did was find Sir Frost to check in on their captive. It wasn¡¯t that the prince doubted the Hall¡¯s ability to interrogate someone. He doubted their ability to act unhindered. He also trusted his knights far more.

    Not that he wanted credit for unmasking the rebels. The loud man might have been swiped away under the camp¡¯s notice but he intended to take anything they found straight to Alyssa. If there was one thing that could restore the refugees¡¯ faith in the Hall, it was bringing down the people that had kicked them at their lowest. Samuel could then offload his unwanted reputation onto the heroes of the hour and wouldn¡¯t have to worry about the undue attention focused on him spawning any unforeseen circumstances.

    He¡¯d been hopeful when the day started. He should have expected to have those hopes dashed, but the speed of it left a scowl on his face.

    ¡°Exactly that,¡± Sir Frost muttered. Samuel stood with the two knights charged with his protection near the entrance of the camp, their conversation drowned out by the commotion of Kern assembling the day¡¯s work group. The refugees were emboldened by the previous day¡¯s success and many more had signed up to help. With the situation looking up, the misers in the Hall were reassured that their efforts weren¡¯t being dropped into the bottomless pits, and they¡¯d donated more resources to encourage the refugees¡¯ progressive attitudes, mostly wagons and tools. It was a chaotic scene, but the people were full of cheer. Their preoccupation and the stiff backs of the knights were as effective as thick walls for warding off any curious thoughts.

    ¡°His presence was orchestrated, I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

    ¡°In a way. The loudmouth was encouraged to speak up, make the rebels¡¯ ideology known, but calling it a plan is a stretch. More like they simply let a few wild dogs off the leash to rouse the birds.¡± Sir Frost huffed, the sound almost a hiss coming through his helmet. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a complete waste of time. We got a few locations where they hold their meetings and a name. The Last Stand.¡±

    ¡°And who do they presume to stand against?¡±

    ¡°The enemies of Quest. Which, if you believe them, is everyone. The king is tyrant that oppresses them by restricting who can learn magic and robbing the city¡¯s wealth, the Hall is full of hypocrites who do nothing about it, and Lourianne Tome is a foreign agent manipulating the north to leave the kingdom ripe for conquest.¡±

    Samuel grimaced. Since the day they started nonlethal fires in the camp, the prince had been holding out hope that the rebels were just miscreants taking drastic actions for the right reasons. That, with proper guidance and reassurance, they could be saved, that energy redirected to something useful.

    But no one with good intentions, or good sense, would resot to such obvious fearmongering. If the Last Stand wanted to unite the people, fear was the worst emotion to inspire them with. A frightened mob was one of the most unpredictable forces in existence. They were too coordinated for it to be a result of thoughtlessness. They wanted to strip the people of their reason, to make them act recklessly. What Samuel couldn¡¯t understand was why. What would a bunch of idiots badmouthing the people in power accomplish?

    ¡°Does he know of any plots to cause more problems today?¡±

    Sir Frost scoffed. ¡°The fool doesn¡¯t know anything, but I¡¯d assume there will be. He and others like him are convinced that once the city is reclaimed, the Tome woman will move onto the next stage of her plot to weaken the kingdom; eradicating the people of Quest to the last woman and child.¡±

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    Samuel pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the tension he could feel building between his brows. ¡°Great. Nameless and directionless chaos we can do nothing about.¡±

    ¡°So it seems.¡±

    ¡°I almost want to call it intelligent.¡± If there was a proper enemy, the knights would have quashed them already. Instead, the rebels hid behind the victims. If Samuel or the Hall acted against them, it would validate the nonsense the rebel was spreading. It was the perfect way to sow discord, a screen to hide their true plans.

    ¡°A conniving intelligence,¡± Ewan agreed. ¡°Like the rat that knows just what walls to burrow in.¡±

    ¡°Rats don¡¯t think,¡± Sir Frost corrected. ¡°They eat and shit as they please without a care for how it screws over decent people.¡±

    ¡°Enough. We won¡¯t understand madmen. What can we do to minimize the danger to the workers?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already seen to it, highness,¡± the older knight said with a roll of his shoulders. ¡°That redhead said there was no way she could get more people here so we came up with the idea to have the hunters guard their own.¡±

    ¡°She would sanction armor a faction within the camp?¡± Ewan asked with a skeptic frown.

    ¡°Course not. They won¡¯t be swinging anything but their dicks, heh. But I doubt the rebels will have much better. Sides, they¡¯ve got their magic and the right training. All they need is heart.¡±

    The prince was doubtful. After all, brave men were in short supply. ¡°How many have volunteered for such a duty?¡±

    ¡°Last I heard, the boy had over a hundred willing.¡±

    Or maybe heroic men were more plentiful than Samuel thought. ¡°Truly?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not surprising,¡± Ewan mused. ¡°What else is there to do? Mourn their dead friends and family while lying in the mud?¡±

    Sir Frost grunted in agreement.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take your words for it,¡± Samuel said, motioning for them to drop the subject. In the end, it was the refugees¡¯ business. ¡°After the work, I want to speak with the group. Arrange it.¡±

    Samuel had hoped to offload his reputation onto the Hall, but Kern was his second chance. The acolyte¡¯s dissatisfaction with the Hall might cause problems but he was the best out of the prince¡¯s very limited choices. At the very least, Samuel was sure he would use the spotlight to help the city to the best of his ability.

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

    ¡°Have you received word from Father yet?¡±

    Ewan fought back a frown as he shook his head, the tightness of his jaw giving away his mood. ¡°Yes. We¡¯ve been commanded to remain in Quest and assist the agent of the crown that is being sent to take charge of the situation.¡±

    ¡°What does agent mean? Who is he sending?¡± What Samuel really wanted to know was the kind of mind that was being tasked with cleaning up the grand mess. Was it a soldier, a general meant to pacify the area? The destruction of Quest was a severe mark on the king¡¯s reputation. It called into question his strength and the strength of the crown. Subjugating the ones responsible was the only way to repair the damage but the prince didn¡¯t see that going well. In the best-case scenario, what little remained of the city would be ground to dust.

    Better his father stick to his usual passive nature and send a diplomat. For all he disliked her and wanted her to pay for her deeds, Samuel didn¡¯t think of Lourianne Tome as a villain. She could be reasoned with, if the right person was doing the reasoning. A beautiful woman, preferably. One that could bring herself to flatter the pervert despite being surrounded by the ugliness the deviant had caused.

    ¡°The Butterfly.¡±

    Samuel fought to wipe the instinctual grimace of horror from his face. He supposed it was a rational decision. The Butterfly was certainly a beautiful woman that could ignore the tragedy around her while remaining perfectly charming. Whether her presence was a good idea or not¡­Samuel didn¡¯t know the woman personally, but he¡¯d heard rumors. She was effective but her methods weren¡¯t¡­clean. They were the opposite. So much so that the prince was considering writing an angry letter to his father, begging him to reconsider. Or abandoning his academic year and getting far, far away.

    He soothed himself with the knowledge that it wasn¡¯t his responsibility and forcibly pushed the concerns from his mind. ¡°Then we better make sure we¡¯ve wrapped up these matters before she gets here.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-30

    Despite spending hours in the ruins the day before, Samuel wasn¡¯t used to the assault on his senses that came with the grisly work; each putrid scent caused his stomach to turn, and the most pitiful corpses squeezed his heart. The dull roar of hundreds of people working toward a single goal was worse than a mob of insects buzzing about his ears. It was miserable. For the life of him, he couldn¡¯t understand what facet of a life of service had enthralled Cecilia. For him, it was unappealing from every angle. Still, he endured, mindful of the sorrow surrounding him despite being detached from it.

    He expected trouble and it found them. They¡¯d only been working for a few hours when Ewan sidled up to him, ducking his head to whisper in Samuel¡¯s ear as he sorted belongings. ¡°There¡¯s a commotion at the northern side of the work area. A group making a commotion and harassing the workers.¡±

    ¡°Do I need to move?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t appear dangerous. For now, they¡¯re making nuisances of themselves. I¡¯ll alert you if that changes.¡±

    The knight was telling him to be ready to take cover. A luxury the people to either side of him didn¡¯t have. Samuel discreetly glanced at them. To his left was an older man with a liberal amount of gray in his hair, lean like the rest of the refugees and soft, too soft to be wielding a shovel and pick with gusto. Too slow to avoid a sudden attack.

    To his right, was a young man. Not old enough that the prince would consider him an adult but too old to be dismissed as a boy, especially under the circumstances. Of all the people working on the line, he wore his emotions the plainest, his smooth face wrinkled by a deep frown. More than once, the prince noticed him wiping the corner of his eyes with his sleeve. Still, he was diligent in his efforts, handling each item that came into his hands with extreme care.

    He looked a little thin, but Samuel would wager that he had the strength to rabbit away from any danger. Physically. Mentally, the consequences of a group of people snatching away the first ray of hope for the refugees in weeks would be drastic. It was possible the young man would never dare to hope again.

    So many lives that hung in the balance. Samuel could feel it keenly. He was standing in the middle of history. For the moment, an unwilling participant, but soon to be an ambivalent observer. He could feel the significance of the moment; the air was charged with the energy of¡­something. The prickle of something passing to close. The heavy tension that proceeded powerful momentum. The prince felt like he and the refugees were stuck in the way of a stampede, except they didn¡¯t have the safety of two trained knights watching over them.

    Samuel didn¡¯t care for their fates. He couldn¡¯t. Yet, a melancholic feeling tickled a corner of his heart as the commotion grew loud enough for him to hear. As those working alongside him paused, turning in the direction of the noise, Samuel followed a soft direction from Ewan and backed away. He retreated while they pushed forward, the soldiers positioned throughout the area closing in. They didn¡¯t draw their weapons, not wanting to cause an undue panic, as they formed a defensive circle, the veterans prepared for anything.

    The conflict escalated suddenly. One moment, Samuel was straining his ears to make out the sounds on the wind more clearly. The next, there was a scream as flames burst into existence, a shifting column of light and heat that captured every gaze.

    A very flashy spell with little power behind it. Samuel knew as much from how quickly the frightened screams died down, replaced by the rallying shouts and roars of those ready to do battle. Men wearing white cloths around their upper arms dispersed amongst the group, directing the aimless herd to form up into something easier to defend.

    Samuel watched with muted admiration as the hunters-turned-guards began to erect their defenses. He recalled the many conversations he had with his brother about the measure of an army. Sometimes, Dowager argued for the tip of the spear, the strongest combatant, being the most important. The right caster could change the flow of a battle. Sometimes, a single spell could be the difference between victory and defeat.

    The royal knight¡¯s ideology, demanding excellence from every member, was rare. Politics and necessity played greater roles in territories where the lords in need of martial help didn¡¯t have the abundance of choice that the crown enjoyed. It wasn¡¯t rare for a house to pour most of the funds it made available for its private forces into a talented individual or two. The orders would then plan its strategies around their champions.

    Another school of thought said that an army¡¯s measure was determined by how well its lowliest members could work together, using training and coordination to overcome a difference in power. A master caster was a treasure of the kingdom. A hundred soldiers might not match their expertise and finesse, but they dwarfed any single caster¡¯s mana core. In the present, when the continent had been rid of all but the direst of threats, heroes that could fight living tragedies toe-to-toe were the standard of combat, but in the past, when everyday was war, a hundred competent men that could fight for days was more effective than a strong caster that tired after a few hours.

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    As the hunters worked, Samuel saw the wisdom of the old ways. The earth casters, a dozen of them working in concert, raised walls. Each of them were only a few handspans wide and barely just taller than the prince. Something anyone with the right affinity and a modicum of talent could accomplish. Raising a ring of twelve might have been a strain on the average caster. Certainly, raising the second ring of a dozen and a half slabs would have caused the first stirrings of mana strain. A master like Ewan could manage it easily, though he¡¯d feel it in his core. However, with the burden spread across twelve individuals, it was more than manageable.

    Behind their conjured walls, the hunters stood ready to defend the less able workers, their eyes glowing with channeled magic. Yet, the fight didn¡¯t reach them.

    With the crowd cleared away, Samuel could see the chaos. The details were fuzzy, but the happenings were quite clear. Two sides were clashing with all means available to them. On one side were the workers, ill-equipped but full of vigor. They seemed eager for a brawl, the men rushing at their opponents, dashing through projectiles and spells with what seemed like no regard for their lives. There were casters amongst them, separated into two groups. The first were relatively close to the melee fighters. From what Samuel could see, their role was to intercept enemy spells, usually by hitting them with another spell.

    The second group stood further back, spread out from each other. They were attacking, launching spells toward the back at the enemy¡¯s formation, generally aimed at their counterpart but they only seemed to care that the magic travelled far enough that they didn¡¯t risk hitting their allies.

    Their job was complicated by having to dodge enemy spells; they were priority targets. Normally, it would be the role of the earth casters to build fortifications that would protect them, but with them preoccupied, the men had to fend for themselves.

    Few fared well. Samuel noticed a group obscured by a thin mist and wondered if it was more help than hindrance. A few of the hunters were agile, never staying in one place long enough to be caught in the haphazardly aimed.

    The majority seemed to rely on nothing but the saints¡¯ blessings, firing off their magic until a stray spell struck them down. Samuel watched with enforced apathy as bodies were flung about. That seemed to be the rebels plan of attack, wide area of effect spells that separated and disorientated the hunter, with alchemical assistance.

    The prince¡¯s gaze was drawn to the sky as streaks of green smoke trailed vague projectiles. They sailed over the melee, landing amongst the casters and exploding on impact. Those caught in the clouds they created started coughing, the fits doubling them over and sending them to their knees.

    ¡°Ewan.¡±

    ¡°The situation is under control, highness,¡± the royal knight answered, spine as stiff as a post. The prince couldn¡¯t imagine how the soldier that had spent years defending the people of the kingdom felt watching those same people tear themselves apart.

    ¡°I see that, but I would prefer you take action before it becomes uncomfortable. That smoke is spreading. Aside from the fact that I would rather not cough up a lung, the lack of visibility makes it hard to see incoming threats to my person, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    The knight eyed him before inclining his head. Samuel couldn¡¯t be sure, but he thought the man was holding back a smile. ¡°Right you are. Men! Interference on the smoke. I want a gust to the east, sweeping from the friendly casters!¡±

    Two of the soldiers surrounding Samuel sprinted off, their gear and helmets making it easy to distinguish them in the crowd. The moment they reached the casters, Samuel¡¯s hair was gently lifted by a breeze as the smoke flowed away from them. The casters quickly recovered, a few of them taking their own defensive measures. The soldiers lingered, far enough away that they couldn¡¯t be roped into the conflict but ready to take action should the smoke become unmanageable.

    It was a small thing. One that hardly counted in the grand scheme of the battle. It wouldn¡¯t blind the refugees to the fact that the significant power of the royal knights that could have saved lives remained put. By the end of the day, no one would be calling Samuel a hero. It was annoying that the thought sparked disappointment.

    No, that honor would surely go to Kern. He couldn¡¯t see the man, but it was easy to imagine him on the front lines, fighting shoulder to shoulder with the brave and desperate to protect the innocent. He probably led the charge that broke the rebels¡¯ lines, changing the pace of the fighting from a slog to a victorious charge.

    ¡°It seems the hunters will prevail,¡± Ewan commented, his tone pleased.

    ¡°Maybe but this is only the beginning of their problems.¡± The wounded would have to be tended by too few healers with lacking supplies, meaning the men could die from even simple wounds. There was also the dead to consider, as Samuel was sure at least a few had perished in the chaos. He doubted the hunters would want to leave their comrades to the scavengers. Maybe not even their enemies. If they weren¡¯t brought back to the camp, they¡¯d have to be buried. The noncombatants were full of health and vigor, but they might not be up to the task of cleaning up blood and guts.

    Then there was the matter of the living enemies.

    Samuel pursed his lips as he noticed the rebels being forced to the ground, as if the hunters meant to take them captive. Except, that was impossible. The camp was already strained. It didn¡¯t have the resources to detain what looked like several dozen men. The hunters would have to take on the burden. He didn¡¯t know the exact ratio, but it was common knowledge that detaining a caster required several jailers per prisoner to overpower them. It also required attentive minds, as the only thing that could keep an enemy caster contained was constant vigilance. There were also the concerns of where to keep them, whether to feed them, and dealing with their undoubtedly rude behavior.

    There was only one solution to the problem, but no one would suggest it. It was cruel in its rationality. A practical course of action that only a villain could think of. None of the brave men had the kind of cold heart capable of it.

    Fine. After standing by and doing nothing while they fought for their futures, he was villain enough. Samuel would do this small thing for them before turning his back on the situation for good.

 Miniarc-Villains-31

    Samuel waited until all the rebels were accounted for and subdued, stripped of their weapons and forced to lie face first on the ground. Then he approached the group comprised of Kern and the other six acolytes leading the work crew, including Robert. They were trying to keep their voices down as they conversed but their emotions, and their volume, was getting away from them.

    ¡°¡ªjust let them go!¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t take them with us either. There is nowhere to put them. Nothing to feed them. No one has the time or the inclination to watch over them. They¡¯d be nothing but burdens.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but they¡¯re murderers. You leave them bed and they¡¯ll do this again. You¡¯re basically giving them a free pass to kill us!¡±

    ¡°Then what would you have me do? They¡¯ve lost people, they¡¯re injured, and they don¡¯t have the supplies we have. What they¡¯ve suffered today is punishment enough.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being naive. Shameless bastards like them don¡¯t learn anything. I¡¯m telling you, if you leave them be, they¡¯ll cause more trouble. Can you remember all their faces? If you can¡¯t, what¡¯s to stop them from sneaking back into the camp? They targeted the food before. Do you want to be responsible for the fields being burned to ash? Do you want to see kids starving again?¡±

    ¡°I hear you but like I said, we don¡¯t have another option!¡±

    ¡°Eh-hem.¡±

    The bickering acolytes looked up as Samuel cleared his throat, Kern and the young man he was primarily debating with holding his gaze. Samuel didn¡¯t like the look of him. A person¡¯s self was revealed by their eyes. There weren¡¯t clues lurking within them, as the stories said. What gave people away was how they looked at others. Combined with the context of the situation, it could reveal a lot about someone¡¯s character.

    The second young man looked at Samuel with disgust, utterly irreverent of his position. The prince expected relief, though he hated the idea of people looking to him for answers. Anger he would have understood. Pure disdain was confusing. Mainly that the man didn¡¯t have the presence of mind to control his reaction. One didn¡¯t make their dislike for royalty known openly if they had common sense. Either the man was very stupid or he didn¡¯t care about the possible consequences. A man who didn¡¯t care was a very dangerous creature, both to fight and befriend.

    ¡°Your highness,¡± Kern greeted respectfully.

    ¡°Nice of you to join us,¡± the second man said sarcastically. He huffed when Kern elbowed him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him. This is Grahm, a good friend of mine. Normally, he¡¯s pleasant to know, but the long days have eroded his manners.¡±

    ¡°A pleasure, I¡¯m sure,¡± Samuel muttered dismissively, unconcerned with whatever grudge the acolyte harbored. ¡°I overheard you talking about what to do with your captives.¡±

    ¡°Yes. I thought we would confiscate their belongings and leave them here. I¡¯m sure you understand the situation in the camp well. We can¡¯t bring these people back, we just wouldn¡¯t be able to cope.¡± Kern¡¯s broad shoulders drooped with his heavy sigh. ¡°It¡¯s not a great solution but there¡¯s no choice.¡±

    ¡°You keep saying that when it¡¯s not true,¡± Grahm bit out. ¡°There¡¯s something we can do that will guarantee that these idiots are never a problem again.¡±

    ¡°Saints damn it man! I¡¯m not going to execute them after they¡¯ve surrendered!¡±

    ¡°And why in the Abyss not!¡± Grahm shouted back. ¡°It¡¯s perfectly fine to kill them when they¡¯re trying to kill you but killing them before they kill you is so terrible? Wake up! Quest isn¡¯t a place for pretty ideas anymore. Protecting these bastards is no different from putting the thousands back in the camp in danger.¡±

    ¡°They did something stupid. Yes, people got hurt, good men, but if anyone deserves a second chance, it¡¯s the people of this city. Don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t understand how their anger could have led to them doing something stupid. Something they regret very much.¡±

    ¡°Angry? That¡¯s what you¡¯re going to say to excuse them? Everyone¡¯s angry! I¡¯m angry, but you don¡¯t see me setting off bombs and trying to ruin everyone else¡¯s future. I don¡¯t care how angry they were, they knew what they were doing when they came here. They came looking for trouble. As a result, like you said, good men died. That can¡¯t be forgiven.¡±

    ¡°You will get nowhere arguing in circles like that,¡± Samuel interrupted. ¡°Both of you can agree that neither of your ideas are ideal. Instead of bashing them together until one breaks, you should think of a compromise between the two.¡±

    Grahm opened his mouth to reply, likely in a snide tone, but a sharp punch from ern interrupted him. ¡°We¡¯ve tried but it¡¯s not an easy situation.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why we keep records. My tutors used to tell me, when in doubt, look to the past because there is a slim chance you¡¯re going through something no other has endured before. A situation just like this plagued the first king and his generals. They had to judge others in a time of war, where they also lacked properly constructed dungeons and the resources to care for those who weren¡¯t contributing.¡±

    ¡°Then what did they do?¡± Kern asked earnestly while his compatriot glared daggers. The other acolytes, who¡¯d been silent witnesses to the two men¡¯s argument, also turned to the prince.

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    ¡°In the case of crimes against humanity, anything that slowed the war effort, whether it be theft or killing a soldier, carried a sentence of death.¡±

    ¡°There, see? Even your precious prince knows¡ª"

    ¡°However,¡± Samuel bit out, taking great pleasure in interrupting the other man, ¡°there was another punishment reserved for lesser crimes and the removal of problematic elements. Exile. The offenders would be banned from entering any human camp or settlement on pain of death and were marked so that all would know they were outcasts at a single glance.¡±

    Kern¡¯s eyes widened. Samuel couldn¡¯t tell if his expression was one of inspiration or horror. ¡°You want to mark them. Brand them.¡±

    ¡°An obvious mark would keep them from slipping into the camp, allowing you to pardon them without concern for the future. They could always attack the workers again, but these things rarely have perfect answers.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Grahm crossed his arms, his tense posture showing off the wiry muscle of his lean frame. ¡°I expected you to cave to Mr. Righteous here, but he actually has a good idea. I agree, putting a nice big brand on their cheeks will keep them from starting trouble in the camp. Might make them think twice about attacking our group again too.¡±

    ¡°But¡­we can¡¯t just maim these people.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on! It¡¯s not like we¡¯re crippling them.¡±

    ¡°Disfiguring them isn¡¯t a light matter either! Think about it, Grahm. I know things are dire right now but there is a future beyond this madness. There were boys barely of age in that group. Are they meant to go through life mangled? What about the women, if there are any among them? Will you permanently hamper their chances of marriage? You may not be killing them, but you¡¯re destroying them, the possible lives they could live once this is behind us. Today got of hand, but these rebels don¡¯t need to be our enemies. We can¡¯t afford for them to be. The last thing this city needs right now is another battle. If we have any chance of reasoning with them, mutilating with them will certainly destroy it!¡±

    The two young men stared each other down¡­but Grahm was the first to look away, dark blue eyes gazing up at the sky with a look of consternation. ¡°I give up. Do what you want.¡±

    ¡°Compassion isn¡¯t weakness, my friend. It¡¯s simply awareness.¡±

    ¡°This could backfire,¡± Samuel added. While he felt that Kern wasn¡¯t making the most logical choice, he couldn¡¯t say with certainty that he wasn¡¯t making the right one. He made good points about destroying any hope of a truce with the rebels. People generally weren¡¯t in a mood to listen to reason after having a burning blade pressed against their cheek.

    ¡°If we¡¯re going to make it through this crisis, we need to take chances. We need to believe in ourselves and our neighbors. Otherwise, even if we rebuild the walls and the buildings, Quest will be¡ª"

    He was interrupted by a piercing scream. They all whipped around, Samuel¡¯s eyes going wide as he took in the source of the commotion.

    Where the rebels had been forced to lie on the ground, one had been positioned on his knees. Robert stood over the man, one hand holding his head back with a tight grip in his unkempt hair. The other hand held the blade that was gouging the man¡¯s cheek. The prince watched in slack-jawed incredulity as the future Harvest Hero carved into the helpless man without regard for his screams.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Kern was the first to act, rushing across the space between them, the rest of the group following a much slower pace. He grabbed Robert¡¯s arm, pausing the violence. ¡°Saints¡¯ blessed asses! What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±

    ¡°What needs to be done.¡± Robert didn¡¯t look up at the man scolding him. He didn¡¯t look at his victim either. He stared forward but the prince had the distinct impression that he saw nothing at all. ¡°The prince¡¯s solution is the best compromise we¡¯ll find.¡±

    ¡°I just said¡ª"

    Kern faltered as Robert ripped his arm free of the other acolyte¡¯s grip. At the same time, he released his victim, the man whimpering as he curled in on himself, a hand awkwardly hovering over his wounds. The once righteous young man seemed deaf to the pained mutterings as he walked to the next rebel.

    His would-be target didn¡¯t stay still as he heard footstep approaching. The injured rebel tried to jump to his feet but swiftly lost his balance; weak from mana strain, if Samuel had to guess. Robert was unsympathetic as he grabbed the man by the ankle and dragged him closer.

    ¡°Quinn!¡±

    ¡°Do you know what the enemy is, Kern?¡± Robert asked as he forced the rebel to his knees, holding him in place with a tight grip on his hair. By now, the others were starting to stir, but the threat of the hunters surrounding them kept them from making a break for it.

    ¡°Fucking put the knife down and we can talk about it.¡±

    ¡°Hesitance. Indecision. Procrastination. Wasting time instead of doing what needs to be done.¡± He waved his knife in the direction of the city. ¡°Lou showed everyone what she was. She ignored every rule and spat in the face of authority. She was involved with the Grimoire mess. I knew she would do something like this eventually. We all did. But we did nothing because the solution was too hard, would cost too much. Well, look what our hesitance cost us.¡±

    ¡°¡­Quinn,¡± Kern tried again, softening his tone to one reserved for frightened beasts and confused lunatics. ¡°This has got nothing to do with the Tome clan. These are my people. Good people.¡±

    ¡°Everyone can be a good person when things are easy,¡± Robert said dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s how you act in a crisis, in the dark where no one can see you or when there¡¯s no reward at stake, that reveals your character. And they have shown themselves to be villains. If you hesitate here, then they will only become bolder. They will grow and multiply until it¡¯s too late to stop them. Then it won¡¯t be Quest in trouble. It¡¯ll be someone else¡¯s city, someone else¡¯s tragedy that you could have stopped.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t let you do this.¡±

    To Samuel¡¯s surprise, Robert¡¯s eyes glowed with channeled mana as he stared the other acolyte down. ¡°Are you prepared to kill me? Because I¡¯ve vowed that death is the only thing that will stay my hand from now on.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to¡ª" Once more, he was cut off by a scream. ¡°Saints damn it!¡±

    ¡°This is my decision,¡± Robert said, his voice unwavering despite his grisly task. ¡°Say that you couldn¡¯t stop me. The blame is something else that belongs to heroes.¡±

    ¡°Should we intervene?¡± Ewan asked softly. It was the first time the prince had ever heard him sound unsure of himself.

    A state Samuel could sympathize with. It was a strange situation for him as well. And disturbing. Possibly problematic. But not Samuel¡¯s problem. Not Samuel¡¯s problem for all the crowns in the kingdom.

    ¡°You remember what we agreed to. Lane made it very clear that Kern and his group were in charge. He has the authority and means to act. Or not act.¡± Samuel wondered what was staying Kern¡¯s hand; did he agree with Samuel¡¯s suggestion but lacked the conviction to wield the blade or was he simply not confident in fighting a man with four affinities? The prince also wondered what in the Abyss had gotten into the annoyingly optimistic and naive boy who dreamed of being a hero. Or what his father would think about his favorite stallion becoming such an unpredictable animal.

    ¡°I think we¡¯d be better served making sure the wagons are ready to return if we want to make ourselves useful.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-32

    Samuel had a dilemma.

    His chosen representative to take the weight of his unwanted fame was rapidly becoming unsuitable. After watching Robert maim a second rebel, Kern gathered his courage and tried to stop the young hero. Samuel suspected that he was indeed nervous about facing the future Harvest Hero alone, as he tried to enlist the help of others.

    First, he tried to rally the other acolytes, but Grahm blocked his efforts. The group seemed divided on which of the men were correct, resulting in endless back and forth between them. When Kern got frustrated trying to persuade them, he tried to enlist the help of the hunters. His words fell on deaf ears. The men had no doubts about what the rebels deserved. They enthusiastically assisted Robert in meting out punishment, barking threats at the rebels that shifted or pleaded for mercy.

    Finally, Kern decided to take action himself, regardless of his chances, but the hunters blocked him, four men stepping forward to bar his way to Robert. At the same time, others stepped forward to hasten the process. Kern was forced to walk away from the violent scene with his fists clenched at his sides and a tight scowl on his face.

    All the workers witnessed the scene while stacking bodies. Samuel was right that they didn¡¯t want to leave the dead behind, not even their enemies. Their reasons were rational as well as sentimental; if the bodies were left alone, they¡¯d attract scavengers, as beasts and monsters had no problem entering the city with its compromised walls. As many of the wagons were still empty, the dead were placed in them to be taken to the camp for a proper burial.

    Usually, Kern would have volunteered for such a role. Every time Samuel caught sight of the man the previous day, he was in the thick of the work. If not hauling bodies, the prince would have expected him to be helping the injured, as there were plenty of scrapes that needed bandaging.

    Instead, his chosen leader was off pouting. It was an unfair summation of the man¡¯s mood, given the circumstances, but Samuel¡¯s heart desired to be critical. The only thing that could take the people¡¯s attention off him was something shinier, so to speak. The prince had hoped the man¡¯s connections amongst the refugees and his larger-than-life energy would be enough to smother Samuel¡¯s adolescent legend, but now, at the most important moment, the hero Samuel needed had less presence than a wet rag.

    His plan was doomed¡­unless he decided to change targets. Robert had certainly made a spectacle of himself. From the whispers the prince had picked up, opinion was in favor of the hard stance he¡¯d taken against the rebels. The workers didn¡¯t have much sympathy for the people that tried to kill them. They weren¡¯t coming down on Kern too hard for his attempt at leniency, but Samuel was dismayed to hear them whisper words like ¡°naive¡± and ¡°softhearted¡±. In contrast, they used words like ¡°tough¡± and ¡°responsible¡± when discussing Robert.

    He wasn¡¯t their hero yet, but he¡¯d certainly made an impression. Samuel wasn¡¯t sure if it was enough to drown out his own. If it didn¡¯t work, he would only be drawing more attention to himself by tying his name to such a sensational event.

    He decided against it while watching Robert chase away the rebels with the hunters, pushing them away and giving them kicks in the backside when they didn¡¯t move fast enough. With the way he was going, Samuel was sure that the fledgling hero would make an even greater spectacle of himself. Hopefully, that would be enough.

    Samuel was done with them: the refugees, the rebels, and the rest of the problems developing in the city. He was done worrying; his plans had been dashed so there was nothing to do but pray. Samuel swore to himself that this was the last day he would have anything to do with Quest, working with a rare eagerness to return to the Hall as fast as possible.

    ¡°Please, your highness.¡±

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    As the group was preparing to return to the camp, hours earlier than they should have, a man approached him and his retinue. He was unassuming in stature, shorter than Samuel by a head with thin shoulders that bordered on delicate. The white strip of cloth tied around his upper arm suggested that he was one of the hunter-guards, but his demeanor was shifty; he kept looking around skittishly, like a deer checking for predators between the trees.

    ¡°Could I walk with you for a moment?¡±

    Ewan stepped forward, ready to chase him off, but Samuel stopped him with a raised hand. There was something¡­off about the man. The prince realized it was his eyes. They didn¡¯t match his anxious nature, meeting Samuel¡¯s gaze without flinching in the scant moments he paused his incessant checking of his surroundings.

    ¡°No offense to you, but this simply isn¡¯t done. If you wish to accompany me, you¡¯re going to need a good reason.¡±

    ¡°I wish to speak to you. About¡­¡± Another furtive glance to either side, like a child checking for carriages before crossing a road. ¡°About what happened earlier.¡±

    ¡°¡­that¡¯s a good reason. Come.¡±

    As the man stepped forward, Ewan moved closer, putting himself at Samuel¡¯s shoulder. With nothing but his glare, the knight directed the man to his other side, making himself an obstacle if the stranger had evil intentions. The nervous man took his designated place without complaint, his head lowered as he kept pace with them.

    ¡°Before you say anything, know that I can¡¯t protect you,¡± Samuel started. He figured the man was about to rat on the rebels in exchange for a pardon. While Samuel could have done it, or at least argued strongly on his behalf, he refused. The only reason he was bothering to listen to the man at all was on the off chance he had relevant information, Samuel could pass it to Alyssa. Anything less would be irresponsible but he wasn¡¯t obliged to do anything more.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need protection.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure. After today, the camp is going to be much harsher in its methods to root out rebels.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not rebels!¡± the man hissed while wringing his hands.

    ¡°You¡¯re fighting against the established order. If that¡¯s not rebellious, what is it?¡±

    ¡°We just wanted to take care of ourselves and our families. That¡¯s why we took the food. Is that so bad? There wasn¡¯t enough for everybody so why shouldn¡¯t it go to the people who really care about the city? People who aren¡¯t going to let bastards like the¡ª" The man paused, briefly looked up to Samuel, and swallowed the rest of his sentence. The prince wondered if he was about to curse the crown before thinking better of it.

    ¡°If you¡¯re here to convince me of your rhetoric, you¡¯re wasting both our time.¡±

    ¡°I just want you to know the truth. We stole from the camp, but we planned it so that no one would get hurt.¡±

    ¡°People got hurt.¡±

    ¡°Not by us!¡± the man insisted. ¡°And no one was supposed to get hurt today. This was a demonstration. We wanted people to listen to us. To know the truth. We¡¯re the ones that were hurt but we¡¯ve got no control of our lives. We need to be escorted to salvage our own homes? Ridiculous. And what about the field full of food we¡¯re not allowed to touch? All we want are the seeds, of which the Hall has plenty. We should be planting as fast as we can, wherever we can. Everyone should be able to eat three meals a day without worry, but we¡¯re still rationing because the Hall won¡¯t let us cultivate the plants. They¡¯re purposely keeping the field small so that they can control us through our stomachs.¡±

    It was only common sense to keep supplies from the enemy, but it was also true that innocents suffered because of it. Samuel could understand the rebels¡¯ dissatisfaction and the logic behind the accusation was faultless. He wondered if while they were griping about the conditions they were enduring if they ever admitted that it was caused by their own hands. ¡°So, your response is terrorizing people simply trying to get on with their lives?¡±

    ¡°We just wanted them to listen. The only thing we have is our numbers, but we¡¯re divided. One man was silenced so we came as a group, to talk.¡±

    ¡°You brought that nasty smoke to talk?¡± Who would believe that? That was too much preparation.

    ¡°Those were meant to cover our escape if the hunters tried to arrest us. If the talks broke down, we were going to throw them and run. It was supposed to stop any violence before it began. But then someone summoned that fire and spells started flying.¡±

    ¡°You mean the fire wasn¡¯t you?¡±

    The man grit teeth. ¡°Of course not! It had nothing to do with us. On top of that, these people threw the first spell. They killed one of us. Who wouldn¡¯t defend themselves in that situation? But my friends are the ones being called rebels and being ripped apart by crazy people. Something isn¡¯t right here. We were set up and I don¡¯t think anyone cares to get to the bottom of it. Please, your highness. I think¡­I think we¡¯re in trouble. All of us.¡±

 Miniarc-Villains-33

    ¡°Do you miss it?¡±

    A week and a day after the attack, Samuel found himself once more seated across from Cecilia in the Gold Dorm¡¯s dining room. He¡¯d kept the promise he made to himself and didn¡¯t return to the camp the weekend past and was glad for it, the extra rest having left him with a good mood and refreshed body. He¡¯d even managed to keep the refugees and rebels from his thoughts, pondering nothing grander than the mysteries of the sky.

    While he agreed that joining the weather makers of the Rosefield duchy was a terrible idea, it remained a fascinating field of study. If mastered, the power and versatility of the magic would ensure that whatever path he decided to walk in the future, he could walk it with confidence. It was a complicated field, and the spells were closer to abominations than legible equations, but even the challenge was appealing. Frustrating, undoubtedly, but he was comforted that his pondering on the natural laws of the world wouldn¡¯t shake the future or ruin lives.

    ¡°Not a single moment,¡± the prince replied with a smile. ¡°And you? You haven¡¯t grown weary of tending to the unfortunates yet?¡±

    She hummed over the rim of her wineglass. ¡°Do you think you¡¯ve seen the world?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rude to answer a question with a question.¡±

    ¡°Indulge me.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t I always?¡± Samuel held back a grimace. He constantly reminded himself that it wasn¡¯t proper to flirt with her after her clear rejection, but the thought kept slipping his mind. It was so easy, what with their new candid policy toward their interactions. Cecilia also found amusement in it. Even now, she was smiling at him, a relaxed expression quite different from the polite smile she used to always give him. The two were so obviously different, he felt like a fool for not being able to distinguish them in the past. ¡°I suppose so. I¡¯ve traveled rather extensively.¡±

    ¡°So have I. But what have you seen of the world? Think for a moment. What memories have you made that will stay with you for the rest of your life? What memories would you want to share with others?¡±

    ¡°Hm. My manservant plotting my death is certainly memorable, but I don¡¯t know how much of that journey I¡¯d want to share with others.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve never talked about it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because there¡¯s nothing to talk about.¡± Schemes and betrayal came with status. Saints, even common men had to deal with the envy of others. So long as he owned anything, including himself, there would be someone that wanted to take from him. ¡°Aside from that¡­I suppose the royal balls? They can get tedious if you have an agenda, or have to deal with an agenda, but they¡¯re quite beautiful.¡± Men and women dressed in their best suits and dresses dancing in the lap of extravagance; if Samuel wanted to impress someone, that was the memory he¡¯d share. His first ball at that, when everyone and everything was so large and new. A gut-churning barrage of sensation that slowly mellowed into wonder with enough time and wine.

    ¡°Is that all?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s all. I suppose my life is sad and unremarkable.¡±

    ¡°Please. Our lives are wonderful. Wonderfully comfortable, that is. I love it and wouldn¡¯t give it up for anything. People would kill to be sitting where we are now. But¡­I don¡¯t know. I live a good life but, sometimes, I don¡¯t think I live.¡±

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Yesterday, a grandmother came into the clinic.¡± Cecilia reached for the bottle they shared, wincing when she felt its emptiness. Samuel didn¡¯t wait for her to debate with herself on if she wanted to continue drinking, catching a server¡¯s eye and motioning for a refill. She shook her finger at him, but her smile was grateful. ¡°It was nothing serious, she¡¯d twisted her ankle in a fall, but we lent her a bed for the day. I checked in with her when I could, a few times throughout my shift. Amazingly, she had a new story to tell each time.

    ¡°Did you know that there are mushrooms that have an intoxicating effect when consumed? She picked a basketful mistakenly as a girl and served them to her family in that night¡¯s dinner. Her parents scolded her something serious but then it became a tradition. During festivals, everyone wanted their famous mushroom soup.¡±

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    ¡°I hardly think taking drugs means they¡¯ve lived a more fulfilling life than us.¡±

    ¡°She told me how she met her husband. She stole him away, you see. From her best friend, no less. They¡¯d been engaged as children, but they weren¡¯t in love. Meanwhile, she knew from the beginning they were meant for each other. He was hesitant to do something dishonorable by breaking the engagement¡­until she snuck into his room one night and changed his mind.¡±

    ¡°¡­I think that sabotages your point more.¡±

    She chuckled, pausing as the wine arrived to refill her glass. ¡°Stop focusing on the sordid details. I¡¯m talking about the passion, Samuel. She told me that she felt terrible that night but that something greater than the guilt and the fear carried her forward. I think¡­I think that¡¯s what destiny is. Something that supersedes reason and emotion, something that takes control of you in those critical moments and guides you down the road you¡¯re meant to travel. I¡¯ve never felt that. I don¡¯t know anyone that¡¯s ever felt that. And I¡¯m starting to think it can¡¯t be found lounging in luxurious beds or feasting on extravagant meals.¡±

    Samuel pondered her words as she sipped her drink. In a way, they rang true. The prince didn¡¯t know anyone of status that he would say had lived a full life. His father, the most powerful man in the kingdom, was mired in dissatisfaction, forever tormented by mediocrity. Every luxury humanity could create sat at his fingertips and Samuel couldn¡¯t recall a time he¡¯d seen the man smiling with unrestrained joy.

    The same went for his mother. Dowager had found his passion but, as Cecilia said, it had nothing to do with the glamorous lifestyle he could afford to live, rather the opposite. Perhaps the only one in his family he could say was truly happy was his younger sister and she spent all her time in her delusions.

    But there was a price to pay for that passion. Samuel was looking forward to the day his brother realized that war was not all about glorious conquest. His sister had an addled mind. And the grandmother Cecilia talked about. Perhaps she¡¯d lived an eventful life, but was it worth the suffering that came with every decision? The suffering she was enduring now? So what if she¡¯d found the love of her life? He was probably dead now. If she had descendants, they were probably living like rats in the camp.

    ¡°It¡¯s not worth it,¡± Samuel concluded. An easy life without passion was fine with him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be offended but I expected that answer from you.¡±

    ¡°Why would I be offended? It¡¯s good that you can rely on me to be rational.¡±

    ¡°Rational, sure.¡±

    He frowned but before he could ask what she meant by her tone, his eyes were drawn to the entrance of the room; specifically, to the man that had just entered. It was Ewan, moving with quick, measured steps. Moving with purpose. Samuel reflexively straightened, a habit when receiving news of relevance.

    ¡°Forgive me for the interruption, your highness, Lady Rosefield.¡±

    ¡°No need, Sir Reed,¡± Cecilia replied amicably. ¡°Would you care to join us?¡±

    ¡°No, thank you. I merely came to deliver a message to Prince Samuel.¡± The knight passed him a small, rolled up parchment, the kind of message tied to the feet of messenger hawks. The magical birds were only used when a message needed to be delivered urgently. The parchment also felt expensive. Samuel¡¯s gut clenched as he accepted it, as well as a thin blade to cut the red string that kept it closed. He could only think of one powerful person that would want to contact him.

    ¡°Samuel?¡± Cecilia asked as she noticed his expression worsening, but he didn¡¯t respond, too absorbed in the message. It wasn¡¯t long but his eyes were slow to move from word to word, each one so heavy he struggled to lift his gaze from them.

    When he finished, his broad shoulders sagged from the force of his sigh. ¡°Thank you, Ewan. You can go.¡± He gave the knight a look that said they would discuss the contents of the message later.

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

    ¡°Can you talk about it?¡± Cecilia asked, dropping her voice to a whisper, his demeanor an obvious clue to the seriousness of the note.

    ¡°I suppose so. It won¡¯t be a secret for long.¡± Despite that, Samuel also found himself whispering. ¡°My father is sending The Butterfly to take command of the city until order is restored.¡±

    The noblewoman¡¯s eyes widened to an almost comical degree. ¡°Her? She¡¯s coming here? Alone?¡±

    ¡°With the full weight of the crown behind her.¡±

    ¡°Saints save us. Is it treasonous if I ask if your father has gone mad?¡±

    ¡°If it is, everyone in the kingdom will be traitors.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I see the wisdom. She gets results even if her methods are¡­radical.¡±

    ¡°And the city certainly needs results.¡±

    ¡°What else? That¡¯s sensational but it¡¯s not enough to put that look on your face.¡±

    Despite the dread pooling in his gut, Samuel chuckled. ¡°My polite mask is made of sturdier stuff, yes. It seems Lady Butterfly has requested that I aid her in her duties. I¡¯m to make myself available to her when she arrives for as long as she pleases. Father has also made it very clear that I will not be accompanying her as a prince, but as a subordinate.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    That was a succinct summation of Samuel¡¯s feelings on the matter. He was a fly, buzzing about the ruins of Quest, and had the misfortune of being caught in a spider¡¯s web. He¡¯d been noticed, the exact thing he was afraid of.

    He didn¡¯t know what the most notorious ¡°fixer¡± in the kingdom wanted with him, but he knew for sure that it wouldn¡¯t be good.

 Arc 8-01

    My childhood is defined by the things we didn¡¯t have. Or rather, I define it so. For some reason, the negative memories, recalling that which I never had or was taken from me, is so much easier than thinking of happier times. Summoning was an escape but a rare one, as Father was always more concerned with entertaining himself. Every day was a hunt for something more stimulating than watching ants crawl.

    I think that¡¯s why I treated my tutor so badly. For some reason, my mind wants to ponder their frustrated scowls and stiff backs as they were dismissed from the estate. Young Lou didn¡¯t think of the poor bastards losing their jobs as anything more than the source of a few snickers, listening with an ear pressed to Father¡¯s study to eavesdrop on their desperate attempts to remained employed.

    Being older and having spent time amongst commoners, I realize that I might have ruined a few lives with my antics. There aren¡¯t a lot of opportunities in the middle of the country. The meagre pay my father offered very likely meant far more to them than a little extra coin on the side; I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if their employment was the difference between their families having a comfortable winter or rationing every crumb of bread.

    I took that from them and I enjoyed it.

    Not the part where I hurt them. It was the feeling of putting my hand on the scale and tilting it. I set out to destroy them because I could, because it was a goal I could accomplish. Didn¡¯t matter if it was right or wrong. I never thought of the consequences. All that mattered is the moment, the visceral joy of changing my little slice of the world to my whims.

    Unsurprisingly, the tutor that lasted the longest was the least fun; an old crown with pockmarked, saggy skin and dark eyes that picked me apart in moments like a carrion-eater expertly stripping meat from a corpse. Saints, I don¡¯t even remember her name but I remember the screech of wood as she dragged her favorite chair to wherever the lesson was being held. She always started professionally, announcing the lesson of the day and trying to impart her wisdom, but the moment I displayed my usual contempt, she met it with seasoned apathy. Sometimes, she rambled about her life and sometimes she spoke about nothing at all. Didn¡¯t matter if I tried to interrupt her or make things difficult.

    Once, I asked her why she never got angry like all the others. Her response is what I remember most about her. She told me that if I didn¡¯t want to learn from her, life would teach me.

    I wonder what I was supposed to learn from Quest.

    I wonder what the people of Quest were supposed to learn from me.

    ¡°Wake.¡±

    My eyes flutter open at the soft command and instinctively find the gaze of the one who utters it. These days, the appearance of my father-in-law isn¡¯t quite so intimidating. Oh, he¡¯s still the same broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, small hill of a man that looks like he grew up eating the meat of the bears he slaughtered with his bare hands, but experience has stripped him of his natural intimidation. He¡¯s so opposite of Morgene, I struggle to understand how they¡¯ve made a union work for so many years. There hasn¡¯t been a harsh word or spark of violence between us since the night of our ¡°duel¡± and even that was closer to training than anything else. He goes out of his way to be pleasant, greeting me every morning and wishing me a pleasant night.

    The cost of this peace? An hour walk after breakfast through the shattered city.

    I thought the request was strange when he made it. Still think it¡¯s strange, but it¡¯s hardly a burden. We walk for a while until he finds a spot that he likes, sit for a spell, and then we return. It¡¯s been ten days since we¡¯ve started our routine and I still haven¡¯t grasped his reasoning, if there even is any.

    ¡°Are you ready to return?¡± he asks, just as he does every morning. As if I would want to linger amongst the destruction.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    He nods and begins the walk back.

    ¡°Why do you want to do this?¡±

    ¡°For peace.¡±

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    Another answer again. The previous time I asked, he said it was for sun. The time for that, it was for the breeze. Is it a game? I¡¯m doubtful, as he doesn¡¯t strike me as the playful type, but I can¡¯t think of another explanation.

    On the first day, the silence was unbearable. I couldn¡¯t go three breaths before I had to fill it with inane mutterings, searching for some shared understanding. Instead, I got grunts and one-syllable words. Sometimes, he¡¯ll open up a bit when it comes to his beloved daughter, but, as a whole, my father-in-law is the quiet type.

    Ten times doing this, the mountain-like silence is as light as a feather. The estate has gotten noisy these days. I don¡¯t hate it, a little chaos is much better than the empty home I grew up in, but it can get a little overbearing. Overwhelming. Having this moment every day, where the chaos can¡¯t exist, where there¡¯s nothing to worry about but my own nostalgia, is¡­nice.

    Surprisingly, Orum is the next one to break the silence. ¡°What is your favorite color?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The color you like most.¡±

    ¡°No, I understood the question but¡­why?¡±

    ¡°You do not have to answer.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t say I wouldn¡¯t answer. Purple, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Colors are not words. They are things.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡±

    ¡°You must have seen purple to admire it.¡±

    Ah. He¡¯s asking why I like it. Or maybe for a better description? Either way¡­ ¡°The purple that borders on deep blue, the color of twilight.¡± That¡¯s the color of my divine father and my oozy self.

    ¡°A creature¡¯s preferences reveal its mind. Take the deer. It eats of the forest but what it eats reveals its soul, that which separates it from its flesh. The calm deer grazes on grass, following in the footsteps of its predecessors. The gourmand tastes every flavor the forest has to offer. The deviant breaks the cycle and feasts on flesh with the predators.¡±

    ¡­alright then.

    ¡°Have you ever questioned why you admire the color you do?¡±

    ¡°No? Does something like that have a reason?¡±

    ¡°Everything has a reason. The only question is if we¡¯ve taken the time to look inside ourselves to find the answer.¡±

    This is a ridiculous conversation but it¡¯s rare for him to reach out. I suppose I should humor him. ¡°Well, I¡¯d like to answer you, but I have no idea why I like it or how to ¡®look into myself¡¯, as you say.¡±

    ¡°You learn of yourself the same way you learn of anything else, through questions. What does the color make you think of? Do not think hard. The answer will be as apparent as your preference.¡±

    ¡°¡­power, I suppose.¡± I think of Cosmo¡¯s monstrous coefficient and my seven affinities. Whatever he is, whatever we are, we¡¯re magic. And magic is power.

    ¡°Why do you desire power?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t desire power. I mean, I guess I did once. And now that I have it, I¡¯m glad for it, but that¡¯s it. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m chasing it.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you chasing?¡±

    ¡°Peace.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯ve found it.¡±

    ¡°More of it. I just want to be left alone with my family.¡± Is that too much to ask?

    ¡°All things are connected, and they act upon each other. The sun warms the earth, which allows the grass to grow. The grass feeds the rabbit. The rabbit feeds the wolf. The wolf grows big enough to challenge the farmer for his sheep. To simply blame the animal is foolish. So is the thought that one can disconnect themselves from the web of life.¡±

    ¡°So¡­you¡¯re telling me to give up.¡±

    ¡°Wisdom is not knowing the solution to every problem but knowing that which is within your power and that which is not.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute. Weren¡¯t we talking about colors?¡±

    ¡°We cannot control life, but we can choose how we interact with it. The wolf hounds the farmer but how he responds is his choice. Most will chase it off. Some will kill it. Sometime ago, a farmer chose to tame the beast, defying impossibility and creating the dog, something new.¡±

    I¡¯m so lost.

    ¡°Er, I like dogs?¡±

    He turns to me, his dark green eyes half of my favorite pair. ¡°That which is connected is one. Does that make sense?¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­¡±

    ¡°We are connected to the world; therefore, we are the world and the world is us.¡±

    He¡¯s losing me but I bob my head in agreement regardless. Saints, this has taken a strange turn.

    ¡°Everything is the world, from the worm, to the dog, to the people. Every life matters. Every action matters. You are more than yourself. You are everyone. You are everything.¡±

    A surge of annoyance turns down the corners of my mouth. ¡°That¡¯s stupid.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    Is he really asking me that? ¡°Maybe things are connected but they¡¯re different. Certain actions are more impactful than others. And certain lives have more value.¡± That¡¯s the entire point of a hierarchy.

    ¡°Then what separates them?¡±

    ¡°Blessed saints, a hundred different things.¡±

    ¡°Pick three.¡±

    I come to a stop, unable to think and walk while coping with my growing discomfort with the conversation. He follows, turning to face me. ¡°What separates people?¡±

    ¡°If that is what you want to answer.¡±

    Three things that separate commoners from nobles, huh. ¡°Money. Status. Privilege.¡±

    ¡°And what do those things have in common?¡±

    Noble blood¡­or I suppose not. The Tomes are nobles and we have none of those things. What can get a person all three then? I can think of a few things but only one where it¡¯s guaranteed, without taking into any other circumstances. The one thing that can never be denied.

    ¡°¡­power.¡± My answer feels like I¡¯ve stepped into a trap, but I don¡¯t know why.

    The feeling intensifies as Orum smiles. ¡°Power gives things meaning. You desire power.¡±

    ¡°What are we even talking about?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you should think on it tomorrow, should you choose to join me again.¡±

    With that, he continues walking, leaving me no choice but to follow.

 Arc 8-02

    ¡°Your father is a strange man.¡±

    While I¡¯m learning to enjoy a moments of peace, I find myself craving company the moment I return from our daily walks. Following the closest heartbeat, I find Kierra in the dining room, dressed in casual clothes with her long, silver hair pulled back, likely because it would have fallen into her face with her head bowed the way it is. She¡¯s focused on something sitting on the table. Something bloody. Thank the saints for succubi who somehow know how to get the worst stains out of any cloth.

    She looks up from whatever it is, eyes glowing with magic. But in the next moment, she lets go of the mana, and that lovely gaze returns, more gold than green in the bright light. Her lips turn up in one of her rarer smiles, excitement without the usual bloodlust.

    Everyone has been affected by the presence of her parents. Thankfully, aside from some added tension and a few terse disagreements, it seems to be for the better.

    Whenever Morgene or Orum get to reminiscing about the old Kierra, she¡¯s always described with a lot more¡­energy. I wouldn¡¯t call the present her lazy, never. It¡¯s just that the old her was apparently everywhere, trying to accomplish everything. That overzealousness got her into lots of trouble, which is what the stories centered around. It got her locked away in the Enchanted Forest, leading to our fateful meeting.

    Maybe her calmer attitude is natural maturation and that¡¯d be fine. I also have no doubt she¡¯s happy here, with our fledgling clan. But I can¡¯t help but wonder if we¡¯re holding her back. I wonder if she could be doing more, but she doesn¡¯t because she¡¯s worried about leaving us behind.

    Kierra isn¡¯t a creature that should be wandering the halls of an estate. She should be out in the world, hunting down the next challenge and grabbing it by the throat. We¡¯re the reason she isn¡¯t, for better or worse.

    She waves for me to come closer but I dodge her bloody hands. Chuckling, she kisses me while keeping them behind her back, a quick brush of the lips. ¡°What do you mean strange?¡±

    ¡°He asked me a bunch of stuff that didn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    I wave off her curiosity. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. And you¡¯re busy.¡±

    ¡°This is nothing that cannot wait.¡±

    ¡°While I wouldn¡¯t put it past you to play in blood and guts for fun, this looks like it has intention behind it.¡±

    ¡°It does. Look.¡±

    I lean over the table to get a closer look at the bloody object. It¡¯s meat, I can tell that much, but if there¡¯s anything special about it, it escapes me.

    ¡°I prefer to fight with raw power, as it is most satisfying to tear a creature apart with my hands. I was taught to use weapons when I was young, as they were both safer and more efficient. Over the years, I took the tricks of the most interesting prey, but it has never been my, hm, specialty. Watching your little duel with my father has made me curious. Since there is a lack of decent prey around¡­unless you have changed your mind about warring with the kingdom?¡±

    I quickly shake my head. Please don¡¯t joke about that too loud.

    ¡°Then exploring shapeshifting is the best way to go about my own growth.¡±

    ¡°And the meat is supposed to help you do that?¡±

    ¡°One of the few drawbacks of the pure affinity is its mysterious nature. It is good that I can do things without knowing how to do them exactly, but it is impossible to improve a technique you do not understand. I seek understanding, one change at a time.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I get it. So, you do your ridiculous wish-a-change on the meat there and then you do your scan thing to see how your magic changed it. Or you follow along while it¡¯s happening? Somehow?¡±

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    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Huh. That¡¯s actually an interesting work around. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°A human kidney.¡±

    Eh? ¡°¡­do I want to know how you got that?¡±

    ¡°Do you?¡± she asks, flashing her bloodthirsty smile.

    Really, what do I care if she¡¯s snatching organs in the middle of the night? We¡¯ve already leveled a city. Bodily harm hardly compares. Besides, it¡¯s so small, barely the size of a woman¡¯s fist. I doubt the owner is even missing it, if she healed them afterwards.

    Sigh.

    ¡°Yeah, I do.¡±

    Her smile widens, gaining a familiar edge. ¡°The pet grew it for me.¡±

    ¡°Grew it?¡±

    ¡°She found a corpse, took the organ, and made a fresh copy.¡±

    That¡¯s much better than I was imaging. And I doubt it¡¯s the weirdest errand Kierra¡¯s sent the succubi on. I¡¯d bet anything it¡¯s a whole lot tamer than what Geneva gets up to while spreading her influence.

    ¡°But we were talking about your walk.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not¡­¡± Her eyes tell me she¡¯s not going to let me change the subject again. Is she worried we¡¯re not getting along. ¡°He was saying something about rabbits being worth the world.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± She immediately loses interest, gaze dropping to her fake kidney.

    ¡°Guess you know what he¡¯s talking about.¡±

    ¡°Mm. We had a similar¡­talk.¡±

    ¡°Give me the short version.¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°There is no short version and everyone must reach the end by themselves, or it loses its power. No need to worry, my love. His methods may seem strange but he knows what he is doing.¡±

    ¡°Kii¡¯s right. If there¡¯s one thing no one can argue, it¡¯s Orum¡¯s capabilities.¡±

    We both turn as Morgene enters the room, though our reactions couldn¡¯t be more different; Kierra is amused while I grimace. Telling a guest to make themselves at home is a common courtesy. You don¡¯t expect them to actually throw propriety to the wind and put their boots on the table.

    No one extended that courtesy to Morgene but she¡¯s done it anyway. I¡¯d wager she¡¯s the most comfortable in our stolen home.

    To my endless concern, she¡¯s also taken a liking to the succubi. That is an alliance that can only breed disaster, but, as she¡¯s capable enough to handle herself, I don¡¯t get involved too deeply. I trust that extending them the ability to command the succubi, with less authority than my clan of course, is enough.

    I should have suspected that Morgene would take to the authority readily. Despite knowing the elementals are amoral schemers whose goal in coming to this world is to utterly devour me, I treat them with dignity. The violet elf has no such compunction. She doesn¡¯t cause them pain, as that¡¯s where I draw the line, but she has no problem treating them as the lowliest of servants. Or animals, when she feels like it. Really, the leather collar and rope is just unnecessary.

    Of course, a little humiliation means nothing to a succubus. Bell takes being walked with perfect calm, her lizard-like tail slowly wagging behind her. When Morgene stops, the imp settles at her feet like an obedient pup.

    ¡°Coo~¡± {Are you jealous, Master Lou?}

    Hardly.

    Okay, maybe a little. I wasn¡¯t allowed pets as a girl.

    Morgene glances at Kierra¡¯s project but turns away with disinterest. ¡°He lets his soft heart affect his teaching but it¡¯s annoyingly effective. It¡¯s tedious, but it¡¯s good for you.¡± A perfectly sculpted silver brow rises. ¡°Unless you¡¯d rather I teach it? I can put weeks of his ramblings in one¡ª¡± Ah. I see where Kierra gets her smiles from. ¡°¡ªsuccint lesson. One night and it¡¯ll be carved into your very bones.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Nothing wrong with slow and steady. Anyway! I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re here for¡ª¡±

    ¡°For you, yes. Did you forget our standing arrangement?¡±

    ¡°Who could forget you?¡± I sigh as she walks up to me, raising a hand. I glare at it, silently warning her not to try dragging me around by the collar of my shirt, again. The first time caught me off guard, shock keeping me from reacting, but I do have some pride.

    Thankfully, she only places it on my shoulder, though her grip is rather tight.

    ¡°Actually, I was thinking I¡¯d skip for today.¡±

    The hand retreats. ¡°I see. Why not spend a day wasting your potential and wallowing in this nothingness you¡¯ve created? I suppose it¡¯s a fine day to admire some derelict buildings.¡±

    ¡°Mother,¡± Kierra mutters without looking up.

    ¡°No, I know. Have the pet prepare a lunch and we can find a nice, intact roof to perch on while we watch the weaklings tear themselves apart to reclaim scraps of their lives. It¡¯ll be just like Velan¡¯s ring. You remember that, don¡¯t you Kii? All the children would grab whatever beasties they could and cheer the pests on as the fought to the death in that ring, bleeding for the privilege of dying later rather than sooner¡ª¡±

    ¡°Mother,¡± Kierra repeats, voice laced with warning. She looks up from her kidney, glowing eyes narrowed.

    ¡°What? I thought I was being helpful, giving her fun ideas of how to spend the time she¡¯s wasting.¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± I snap, a hand migrating to my head to massage it. ¡°You¡¯ve made your point.¡± Sigh. Sometimes, I think being reborn is more of a curse than a blessing. ¡°Half a day. No, a quarter. I¡¯m tired.¡±

    I tense, readying myself for an argument, but it doesn¡¯t come. She smiles and I¡¯m reminded where my wife gets her looks.

    ¡°Come. If our time is limited, then we should waste any more of it.¡±

 Arc 8-03

    It¡¯s funny that my thoughts should have drifted to my tutors, as Morgene has taken to the role with gusto. It¡¯s not just me she pokes and prods every day, she¡¯s taken an interest in all of us. In her own words, it¡¯s our fault for being so strange.

    She¡¯s delighted by the siblings, children being molded by a master, adores the quirky Gajin, who is suffering without a garden to plant in, and is utterly confused, like the rest of us, when it comes to the quiet Nomad. And then there¡¯s me, the big prize. The key to this monster growing even stronger, supposedly.

    She wants to study me, specifically the space shenanigans of my base form. In return, she gives her guidance. Entirely unsolicited. This isn¡¯t an arrangement we sat down and agreed on. The morning after the dinner party, she dragged me into the study and bombarded me with her questions, most of which I didn¡¯t have a clue about. She determined that the only way she would get anywhere is if she investigated me herself, but I wasn¡¯t going to submit myself to her whims just like that. Aside from the rational fear that I wouldn¡¯t survive her attentions, it felt far too much like she was taking advantage of our relationship.

    Only my lovers get to do that, heh. And, as beautiful as she is, that is a temptation I don¡¯t dare think about, let alone pursue.

    I should have walked out. But she made me an offer I couldn¡¯t refuse.

    ¡°I will show you how to make sure what happened to this city never happens again.¡±

    That was¡­appealing. Maybe just because ignoring her felt like it would be declaring that I didn¡¯t care about the broken city and I did, hypocritical or not. So, we made a bargain. She teaches me and doesn¡¯t make a nuisance of herself, a real compromise for her nature, and in return, I submit myself for examination for a few hours.

    We enter the study together, Morgene shutting and locking the door behind her. Bell scampers forward, trailing her rope leash as she scampers across the floor and jumps onto the desk. The imp settles on her side, four ruby eyes staring straight ahead with a strong focus, as if she¡¯s anticipating a good show. Which I suppose she is.

    ¡°Well? What are you waiting for?¡± Her breath tickles the back of my neck as she leans over my shoulder and whispers, ¡°Strip.¡±

    ¡°I really wish you wouldn¡¯t do that,¡± I grumble as I pull my shirt over my head. By the time I drop it to the ground, she¡¯s already moved away from me, leaning against the desk while watching with me with a smile.

    ¡°Stop doing what?¡±

    ¡°You know what.¡±

    ¡°No need to be so concerned. My daughter won¡¯t take offense from something like this. She is an Atainna, she grew up surrounded by admiration. Beauty draws the gaze.¡± Her gaze drops to my legs as I drop my pants. ¡°And you are quite a sight.¡± She sighs dramatically while putting her chin in her hand. ¡°It¡¯s a shame you don¡¯t have the skills that physique suggests.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m working on it,¡± I grumble as I drop my underthings. If someone was to walk in right now, this would make for a horrible misunderstanding. But the situation is completely innocent. In the next breath, I let my prime form fall away and revert to ooze.

    My rampage through the city was costly in terms of size. At a glance, the hunters looked completely powerless against me, but they managed to cut off quite a lot of my oozy limbs when I extended them to attack. I recovered as much ooze as I could but plenty was lost in the chaos. On top of that, the devastation to the city¡¯s supply chains and our exile from the Hall means there aren¡¯t any ready corpses I can gobble up to replace that mass.

    As a result, my size is rather humble these days. Compacted, I don¡¯t even reach the ceiling. No one knows it, but I couldn¡¯t repeat my massacre. If the hunters muster another army, I¡¯ll have to find another way to fight them, though I doubt that¡¯ll happen.

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    Morgene makes a little mew of excitement that should only be uttered by little girls given a new doll as she pushes off the desk and walks toward me. ¡°Come on,¡± she whispers excitedly, as she leans against me, letting me take her weight. It¡¯s not my intention for my ooze to conform to her curves but I can¡¯t help the intimacy. ¡°Do it.¡±

    I comply, letting my body expand just a bit before retracting. Then I repeat it, over and over. It¡¯s not strenuous but I do have to focus on it, which makes it hard to focus on anything else. Not ideal circumstances for teaching, but Morgene hasn¡¯t tried to teach me anything so far. At least, not as I think of teaching. For the past week, all we¡¯ve done is have conversations, mostly about nothing. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d think she just wanted to spend time with me, getting to know me better¡­but no. There¡¯s a design behind the inane questions, I¡¯m sure of it.

    But for now, I flex my ooze, guiltily enjoying the feeling of a warm, soft body through this form¡¯s strangely acute senses. Normally, this lasts for a while, at least an hour, before Morgene announces she¡¯s had enough, but I¡¯m the one who calls it to an end after less than half that time. She retreats to the desk as I change back to my prime form and put on my shirt, not bothering with the rest as I take the guest chair. ¡°So? What great wisdom will you bestow upon me today?¡±

    ¡°You sound like you¡¯re in a bad mood.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m tired.¡±

    ¡°From what? A short walk every morning is hardly strenuous. You eat three meals a day, never lack clean water, and fall asleep on a soft bed.¡± My eyes naturally follow the movement as she crosses one leg over the other, fingers lacing in her lap. ¡°What exactly is so exhausting and stressful?¡±

    ¡°The future,¡± I reply grimly. And only idiots wouldn¡¯t be worried about it. If the people of the city think my little scuffle with the hunters was the end of it, they¡¯re dead wrong.

    A storm is brewing over what remains of the city. Geneva is closing in on the hunters that are protecting the Authority, an ancient reserve of resources they deemed important enough to go to war over, and I don¡¯t imagine they¡¯ll hand it over peacefully. Some of the hunters have turned to banditry and there are whispers of revolution on the wind. The camp is creating a schism between the people and the Hall, weakening the influence of the Harvest Hero even if he wanted to intervene. The estrazi dragged something I¡¯d imagine was spawned into the Abyss into our house, claiming the thing was headed here anyway. And, to top off the shit cake, the crown¡¯s response to this whole mess should be arriving any day now.

    Yeah, it¡¯s going to be a disaster.

    Saints know we should be running for cover before the arrows rain down on us. We could. It¡¯d be so simple. Don¡¯t even need to bring our things with us, just have the succubi turn into something with four legs, or more, hitch them to a wagon, and go. One day, and we wouldn¡¯t even be able to see the city¡¯s walls.

    A part of me, a large part, wants to do exactly that, craves the relief that would come from going somewhere no one can be bothered to come find me. It¡¯d be so easy.

    And yet, I can¡¯t bring myself to.

    There are excuses I can throw out when someone asks me what¡¯s stopping me, like wanting to get my hands on the hunters¡¯ treasure or humoring Yulia¡¯s attempts at sainthood, but the truth is, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s tying me to the city. So, here I am, frozen in place while the executioner prepares his ax, helpless as a lamb raised for slaughter. Except I¡¯m not helpless. I¡¯m the opposite of that, which is why feeling helpless is pissing me off. I don¡¯t have a target for that anger, already slaughtered the bastards who insisted on making themselves enemies, so I hold it in. Emotions are exhausting and that exhaustion has fed on itself until it got big enough to smother the anger entirely.

    ¡°The only time warriors fear the future is when they aren¡¯t sufficiently prepared. Safety lies in control.¡±

    ¡°All the power in the world couldn¡¯t control the chaos headed toward us.¡±

    ¡°You underestimate power, but that¡¯s a lesson for next time. For now, hm. Yes, I think today will be about initiative. A good topic for your first assignment. Go on, grab something to write on and with. I don¡¯t want you claiming it slipped your mind.¡±

    I fight an urge to sigh as I move around the desk to grab parchment and a smudgestick.

    ¡°Are you ready? Then, I want you to write down every concern that is weighing on you. And for each problem, write one thing that will either solve it, limit its consequences, or give you control over it.¡±

    ¡°And if there aren¡¯t any things?¡±

    ¡°This is when I use my prerogative as the teacher to tell you that there is an answer and if you can¡¯t find one, it¡¯s because you¡¯re not trying hard enough. Oh, no asking your little clan for help. The entire point of my teaching you is for you to improve.¡±

    My fledgling headache grows in intensity. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Are we done?¡±

    ¡°Normally, I¡¯d recite a few histories to show you how others have acted in this kind of situation to give you inspiration¡­but I think a nap will serve you better.¡± She flicks her fingers. ¡°Go on. Let someone pamper you. I¡¯ll amuse myself with the pet.¡±

    ¡°Coo~¡±

 Arc 8-04

    I wouldn¡¯t have minded passing out for the rest of the day the way I felt. Sleeping until my problems passed me by would have been even better.

    Instead, judging by the dying light painting the bedroom in shades of gold, I¡¯d say it¡¯s afternoon at the latest. The exhaustion that made me take an early rest hasn¡¯t gone anywhere, my nap having left me groggy and loathed to lift my head. So, I don¡¯t. No one¡¯s expecting me till dinner and there¡¯s nothing to do, so there¡¯s no rush.

    I purposely ignore Morgene¡¯s assignment. Aside from the work itself being a pain, it¡¯s also, ugh, demeaning. I don¡¯t know what I expected when she offered to teach me, though it really wasn¡¯t an offer. Really, kind words and candy were never on the table. The violet elf has been an unsheathed blade from the moment I met her. She¡¯s never pretended to be anything else. That doesn¡¯t mean that constant disdain doesn¡¯t get old.

    The sad part is that I can¡¯t do anything about it. She wants me to retaliate, to fight. Elves love conflict but she takes it to an extreme I can¡¯t even fathom. Anything short of killing her is just giving her a gift.

    I¡¯d hoped that at least she would provide insight that would make up for the unpleasantness of her constant disdain, but, so far, that hasn¡¯t proved true. Her so-called teaching seems more like thinly veiled mocking. Sigh.

    Ah, well. I can put it off for a few hours. At least until my head stops throbbing.

    ¡°Coo~¡±

    ¡°Not now, Bell.¡± I groan as I feel the bed dip from her weight. ¡°Don¡¯t make me order you.¡±

    {I¡¯m only here to help.}

    ¡°Oh, yes. Helpful Bell.¡± Despite my gloomy mood, I know better than to send her way. She proves me right a moment later when tiny hands press on the back of my head. I grit my teeth as she casts her spell, the feeling of mana intrusion as uncomfortable as ever. But without me fighting the magic, it quickly disappears, and relief replaces it. Sweet, sweet relief.

    ¡°Has Morgene also been enjoying helpful Bell?¡± I¡¯m a bit surprised she¡¯s here after Morgene announced her intentions to monopolize her.

    ¡°Coo!¡± {She had a breakthrough in her research and sent me away.}

    ¡°Hm. So she¡¯s actually learning something by laying on me every morning?¡±

    {Yes. The stronger a caster is, the less rigid magic becomes. Mana is not just fuel for magic. It is will, of the being using it and the world. Strengthening one¡¯s core doesn¡¯t just make bigger booms.} She snickers as I huff at the childish phrasing. {The larger a creature¡¯s core, the bigger its presence in the world. That presence lets them feel the world. For magic that requires a degree of intuition, like the null affinity, it is very beneficial. She can truly feel the magic of your body¡­and she can learn from it.}

    That¡¯s scarily impressive. Both because it¡¯s scary and so impressive, it¡¯s daunting. ¡°But she won¡¯t be able to do what I do. She¡¯s not a shapeshifter.¡±

    {She is focusing on your natural ability to keep two planes connected, anchored to your physical form. If she is successful, she will be able to move parts of herself to another plane at will, at almost no cost. With her reflexes, I can¡¯t imagine an enemy will ever manage to touch her again.}

    ¡°¡­that¡¯s impressive, I guess, but it¡¯s not like she needs the advantage.¡± From what Kierra tells me, Morgene is a master at using teleportation in combat, blinking short distances to make her movement completely unpredictable.

    {You are underestimating a fight between masters. Weak creatures can be felled with one decisive spell. Strong, experienced fighters can duel for hours, their defense unexploitable until their mana runs out. In fights like those, every unit of mana counts. Bending space is not cheap. If she is succesful, I imagine she¡¯ll have at least thirty percent more of her mana in combat. Maybe forty. All of which she can devote to offensive spells while being far more mobile.}

    Ah. The more I hear about this, the more I pity whoever crosses that woman in the future. ¡°What are you helping her with?¡±

    {Spell construction. Our combined knowledge is slowly bringing order to the ridiculousness of your body, but it is slow going.}

    ¡°How slow?¡±

    {At this rate, we may see success in a few centuries.}

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    I almost choke on my surprise.

    {Given that it should be impossible, I think centuries is quite fast.} The small hands on my head migrate to my neck, pressing into the muscle until I squeak. {But you do not need more things to worry about. Allow me to help you.}

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your¡ª"

    My words are cut off, or rather stolen from me, by a much larger hand pressing into my lower back, a wave of sensation making me relax into the bed.

    ¡°It is very convenient that you made this form so similar to a human¡¯s.¡± Oh, it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve heard the voice of Big Bell. That and the increased weight on my back tells me she¡¯s taken her ¡°true¡± form, or the form recognized as a virtue.

    Her hands don¡¯t stop her massage. My prime form can¡¯t be stiff unless I want it to be, but the skillful hands aren¡¯t trying to remove tension. This is about feeling good, plain and simple. ¡°Though I am a little disappointed there is no need to explore. It¡¯s fun, finding out the secrets your partner doesn¡¯t even know they keep. There is no mystery left for your lovers, my master.¡±

    ¡°Is that, hm, really a bad thing?¡± I mumble, relaxing into her touch.

    ¡°Pleasure isn¡¯t all about the body. You do yourself a disservice, drowning in the physical. It only reaches skin deep.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not complaining.¡±

    ¡°No. That¡¯s one of your weaknesses, isn¡¯t it? You don¡¯t know how reach for more. Oh, you can grab the riches that fall right in front of you without shame, which is a proper start. But when it comes to putting your hand in the world and ripping away its treasures, you shy away. Is it because you are accustomed to having little? You¡¯re like a trained dog. The masters that beat obedience into you have long since been dispatched, by your own hands no less, but you still stay in your cage.¡±

    In less than a blink, I turn us over, rolling on top of the succubus and pinning her arms to the bed. Glaring down at her, I¡¯m reminded what master manipulators the creatures are. They don¡¯t hide that they aren¡¯t human because a creature that has to hide is automatically something to be wary of. A virtue looks like someone breathed life into a statue of dark stone, with a crown of thorns around their heads and pits of fire for eyes. They should be nightmarish. Yet, those alien features are beautiful; her burning eyes are striking rather than strange, the stone-like appearance of her skin enhancing her toned body, especially the lines of her abs, the sleek muscle softened by subtle curves.

    ¡°You don¡¯t get to insult me,¡± I hiss.

    ¡°Not an insult,¡± Bell says, unconcerned in the face of my anger. ¡°Merely a reminder.¡±

    ¡°If you want to say something, then say it.¡±

    She raises her head, chest arching toward me in an annoyingly distracting way. ¡°You are too focused on the things that go wrong and do not appreciate what you have.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Your thoughts are open to me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so tired you everyone treating rational fucking concerns like¡ª"

    ¡°Whining? Complaining and moping is fine, so long as you expel the doubts and dreads. Instead, you drag them around with you like a dark cloud. Your clan is nothing more than distractions from your gloomy thoughts.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡±

    ¡°Really? When is the last time you¡¯ve spent time with any of your lovers outside of bed?¡±

    I open my mouth, ready to refute her but my memory fails me. I don¡¯t¡­when is the last time we¡¯ve all done something fun together? Or even when I last did something special for anyone? Saints, it¡¯d have to be before we returned to Quest. Before Victory too, as that was nearly as stressful.

    ¡­has it really been months?

    All my recent memories are each of them supporting me. Have I even asked how they feel? Alana may have been brought up in the north, and she was a lot more decisive than me when it came to condemning the city, but the innocent lives must be weighing on her. Talia¡­I doubt it¡¯s affecting her one bit but with Geneva out searching for the Authority and Morgene hogging Bell, she can¡¯t train, can she?

    And Kierra. You¡¯d think she¡¯d be the least cause for concern, but I know how deeply her imprisonment affected her. No matter how strange their culture is, she can¡¯t be comfortable around her mother. I wouldn¡¯t blame her if she was scared to death, but she can¡¯t come to me for comfort. Not when I¡¯m moaning and groaning about a little assignment and being leaned on.

    I¡¯m terrible.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lou,¡± Bell purrs under me. ¡°I¡¯m not here to criticize you. I¡¯m the solution.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    ¡°Let me take it away,¡± she whispers, her full lips somehow appearing soft while smooth as marble. ¡°The doubt. The guilt. The sadness. The weakness. Why should you be burdened with human morality when you are not human anymore? When you are so much more.¡± Tilting her head, she leans forward and kisses along my chin, her touch incredibly warm, like being kissed by fire. ¡°It doesn¡¯t even have to be forever. One day. One day for everything to be like it was. If you don¡¯t like it, you never have to do it again.¡±

    Wave it all away huh? No more worrying about the future, no more second-guessing. Sounds amazing.

    But.

    ¡°Lie down.¡±

    Bell immediately follows the order, relaxing onto the bed with a smirk.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± I say as I release her wrists. She doesn¡¯t twitch a muscle as I shake a finger at her. ¡°Nice try, but no matter how tired or shitty I feel, the rules don¡¯t change. No succubi stirring up my mind.¡±

    Her smirk widens into a smile. ¡°One day, you will have to decide whether you trust us or not.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? Of course I don¡¯t trust you. And for your not-so-sneaky attempt at worming into my brain, you get a time out. No limbs or thoughts leave that bed until dinnertime unless we¡¯re in danger or there¡¯s some other kind of emergency.¡±

    She steals Kierra¡¯s pout and it¡¯s almost as devastating as my wife¡¯s. ¡°I only wanted to help, master.¡±

    ¡°Of course you did.¡± I lean down and kiss her, enjoying the warmth of her mouth. Her tongue tries to chase me as I pull back but that¡¯s it, the poor virtue still under the order to remain still. I chuckle at her pleading gaze as I slip off the bed.

    Life isn¡¯t great at the moment and it¡¯s guaranteed to get worse later, but that¡¯s no excuse to be a bad partner.

 Arc 8-05 (Alana)

    Block. Chop. Thrust.

    Alana¡¯s movements were sharp and direct. There was nothing elegant about northern swordsmanship. Their soldiers didn¡¯t train to fight against men. Monsters didn¡¯t care about feints and fancy footwork. They didn¡¯t yield at first blood or understand any rules of engagement. Only one thing could stop titans: strength. One mighty blow that could surpass their prodigious size and magic. That was how the knights of the north were trained, to put everything they had into every blow.

    Magic was more flexible, the light affinity more than most. The blistering heat of the sun wasn¡¯t just the natural bane of the creatures that thrived in perpetual winter, it was one of the strongest combat magics known to the kingdom. While its defensive applications were limited, its speed was unrivaled, negating one of magic¡¯s biggest weaknesses, accuracy.

    Combat wasn¡¯t static. A caster could decimate a target that was standing still easily but hitting something running at speed was a challenge. Most relied on bombardment, unable to develop the battle sense that would allow them to predict the movements of their opponents.

    Light casters didn¡¯t need to do either. The moment they activated a spell, it would shoot forward, reaching its destination quicker than the blink of an eye, searing through anything in its path. After the Great War, dozens of warriors stepped forward to carve a way forward for humanity. There was a reason that the First Saint, the standard used to define heroism, was a light caster. There was nothing quite as awe-inspiring as a mortal star striking down fearsome monsters in a single blow.

    That was the visage Alana had chased for years, fully believing her claim to James¡¯ blood depended on her future as a titan slayer. But her goals were shifting. With the help of her lovers, her clan as the elves preferred, she didn¡¯t lack in power. She wasn¡¯t close to Kierra or Lou, but she was well beyond most warriors. It wouldn¡¯t be long before she surpassed what most human melders were capable of. In a few years, it wasn¡¯t hard to imagine herself wrestling titans. She also preferred personal combat, the feel of her sword cutting down the enemy.

    As such, using her magic as a weapon was redundant, simply coating her blade in brilliance a waste of its potential. Her focus shifted to the utility of light magic, supporting her growing martial prowess.

    As she thoughtlessly went through the basic drills with her weapon, her mind was focused on manipulating three balls of light that orbited her body on different trajectories. The spell was useless, the lights manifested with only a single unit of mana completely harmless. It was meant to train her control and, more importantly, something her teacher called mana sense.

    Creating spells was a logical process but using them always required a hint of intuition. The less precise a spell was, the more mana it used and the more the caster had to rely on intuition to utilize it. All her life, she¡¯d been taught that was a bad thing, that every drop of mana was crucial, but, supposedly, there was a benefit to using vague variables.

    It trained that intuition, strengthening the connection between a caster and their affinity. That connection could become so strong that it developed a sixth sense, the caster being able to feel their affinity, both naturally and magically.

    At the highest level, a being perfectly bonded with their affinity could manipulate it without a spell, in a limited capacity, while drastically reducing the cost of any spell. Essentially, a lesser pure affinity, accessible to all with enough time and effort.

    Supposedly.

    Alana didn¡¯t know if she truly believed the outrageous claim, but one thing was undeniable; Rolly had a mastery of the light affinity that Sir Pullock, a famed titan slayer that had been meant to be her tutor, would weep in envy of if he knew its depths. The elemental¡¯s stories sounded too outrageous to be true, but Alana trusted the creature¡¯s skill.

    If only the flying menace wasn¡¯t so aggravating.

    ¡°¡ªbelieve it? I mean, I understand the appeal of a good pair of wings but to go after a sablefly of all things? Let me tell you, the myth that opposites attract is not true most of the time. We use light to communicate with each other more than anything else and sableflies are all black. Worse, they distort light around them. So, not only is he going to be effectively blind and mute trying to talk to the thing, she¡¯s going to distort anything he¡¯s trying to say. Can you imagine him bringing her to dinner with the family? Everyone¡¯s trying to be polite and say hello, but because of her they¡¯re saying nonsense and cursing each other, haha! Oh, that actually sounds amazing. And number three is drifting.¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    It took a few minutes for Alana to parse the words and recognize the instruction. She looked over her shoulder and noticed that the third ball of light, meant to move horizontally behind her back, was dipping and falling. When she noticed her failure, her concentration lapsed further, causing it to move erratically. With a frustrated groan, Alana dismissed the spell, the balls dropping to the ground before disappearing.

    ¡°Ah, ah. You¡¯re really bad at this.¡±

    ¡°It would be easier if I didn¡¯t have you chattering at me nonstop,¡± the blond grumbled, taking a seat on the ground.

    Rolly popped into sight above her head, zipping around her head like an overly excited fly before settling on her knee. ¡°It¡¯s all a part of the training. How do you expect to use a more complicated spell in the middle of a fight if you can¡¯t focus through a bunch of nothing?¡±

    Alana grunted in response, the best acknowledgement she could manage through her frustration. She had been at the training for days now and didn¡¯t feel like she was making progress. It was a long road until she could use her magic to create complicated illusions that would mask her movements. Even further until her ultimate goal, embodying the concept of light like Sir Pullock, but being able to maintain it for at least several minutes.

    ¡°We try something else. Work on something more fun!¡±

    ¡°Training isn¡¯t supposed to be fun.¡±

    ¡°That means you¡¯re doing wrong. You¡¯re not going to make it long as an immortal if you don¡¯t learn to take your fun when you can.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not an immortal.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I bet you don¡¯t stay mortal for long. At the very least, you¡¯ve got a dozen centuries in you. Which means you need to change the way you measure your goals. So what if it takes you a while? Who cares if it takes ten or twenty or even thirty years before you get it? That¡¯s nothing. You¡¯ve got time.¡±

    ¡°Problems aren¡¯t going to obediently wait for me to finish having fun.¡±

    ¡°What problems? Nothing can touch you.¡±

    Alana snorted. Tragedy and catastrophe had always been a part of her life. Life was about bouncing between problems and hoping you survived. She knew what Rolly meant by her comment, suggesting that nothing could touch her with her clan around. Lou had certainly increased her chances of survival. Before she came to the Hall, she always thought she would be lucky to see thirty.

    Now, the elemental was right that she should plan her goals around several centuries at the least. Sparing some dramatic falling out, Lou wouldn¡¯t let her live any less. Saints, even if they did split up, she could imagine her devoted lover keeping her alive anyway so she could have a chance of working it out.

    But Alana wasn¡¯t training because she was worried about her well-being. Lou wasn¡¯t taking what happened to the city well. She tried her best to hide it, but she hadn¡¯t been well since the battle. No, it¡¯d started before then. She hadn¡¯t been well since she learned of her father¡¯s death.

    Lou didn¡¯t have the same familiarity with death as Alana, who¡¯d been attending Last Rites since she was old enough to walk. She didn¡¯t know how to handle the grief and refused to acknowledge it. On top of that, she wasn¡¯t meant to be a fighter. She could wade into battle with a grim heart, but it wore on her, beating her down with every life she took.

    It was no wonder she walked around with a lifeless gaze, her body present but her mind far away. Seeing it only stoked Alana¡¯s desire to fulfill her promise; one day, she would be the one to fight Lou¡¯s battles. As Kierra had put it, she meant to make a flower of her. Lou would be happiest with nothing more to do than dote on them and be doted on in turn, while occasionally practicing summoning. By the saints, with all she¡¯d given those around her, she deserved it.

    But for it to happen, Alana couldn¡¯t take her time. The gap between them was as vast as gulf between the ground she sat on and the stars. If she wanted to catch up, and stay ahead, she had to sprint with everything she had, utilizing every second of her generous life expectancy.

    ¡°Oh! Here comes the perfect distraction.¡±

    Alana opened one eye to see the subject of her thoughts coming toward her. Lou seemed to be in one of her better moods, wearing a small smile as she approached. Alana wondered if it was arrogant to think it was because of her. She decided it was and that she should think so anyway; Lou had a thing for arrogance.

    Besides, it was true. To think any less would be an insult to her lover¡¯s devoted affections.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two alone~¡±

    Alana fought the urge to roll her eyes, both at the teasing tone and the obvious lie. Rolly never passed up an opportunity for entertainment and romance was her favorite. Still, Alana had gotten used to having an audience and put the thought out of her mind as she stood, mentally adding another hour to her usual training time to accommodate the break that was going to last longer than usual.

 Arc 8-06

    ¡°Something wrong?¡±

    Ugh. I hate that¡¯s the first thing that comes to mind when she sees me. Have I really been that bad?

    ¡°Nothing. I just wanted to see you. We¡¯ve missed each other lately. Or should I say I¡¯ve missed you?¡±

    She narrows her eyes, but I know that¡¯s just to stop herself from rolling them; saints forbid she do something silly or, worse, immature. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to stay busy. With all the physical casters around, I can train all day without problems.¡±

    ¡°I can see that,¡± I mutter, taking her in. She certainly looks like she¡¯s been swinging her sword all morning, with her shirt clinging to her and a few unruly strands of hair escaping their tie. The curly mop is almost straight now. Every time I point it out, she keeps grumbling about how she¡¯s going to cut it. I wonder why she hasn¡¯t? It has to get in the way with how active she is. Speaking of, I¡¯m also due for it. Mm, I know what we can do to spend time together.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing better to do. Best to take advantage of the peace.¡±

    ¡°About that.¡± I sidle up to her with a grin. ¡°What¡¯d you think about taking a break for a while?¡±

    ¡°For?¡±

    ¡°Do we need a reason?¡± My hand reaches out, fingertips brushing her cheek. The corner of her eyes twitch as she forces herself to hold my gaze, but she leans into the touch, just a little bit. It¡¯s so cute when she tries to play stoic. ¡°We haven¡¯t spent time together in days. I want to fix that.¡±

    Her lips part to answer me but I steal them, swallowing the sound. And, like always, the stoic knight falls away and my sweet Alana melts into me. She¡¯s changed from the start of our relationship. There is no trace of the hesitance that plagued her, the hands that grab the front of my shirt lightly tugging me forward and yanking me back when I try to pull away. Heh. Can¡¯t believe she tried to act nonchalant just to turn around and practically try to swallow me. Still, I let her have her way, pouring apologies and affection into her with every touch.

    When she finally pulls away, I don¡¯t move, resting my forehead against hers and shutting my eyes, enjoying the moment.

    ¡°I love you,¡± I whisper and she sucks in a sharp breath.

    But the moment is ruined by Rolly¡¯s titters.

    I raise my head to glower at the bright elemental, in shades of pink and yellow, circling our heads. ¡°I¡¯d have thought that you of all creatures understood timing.¡±

    ¡°I do!¡± she shouts back, laughing again.

    ¡°Ignore her.¡± Alana¡¯s voice makes me look back down. ¡°She only enjoys it more if you don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°True!¡±

    ¡°What did you want to do?¡± She clears her throat and looks away, blushing faintly. ¡°For the date, I mean. There isn¡¯t much to do around here. And I need to change.¡±

    She gets embarrassed by the strangest things. ¡°You don¡¯t, actually.¡±

    ¡°¡­what?¡±

    -

    She¡¯s right when she says there¡¯s not much to do; Quest is a mess and the sections that aren¡¯t wouldn¡¯t exactly be welcoming. I can imagine us strolling into the Myriad Zone and starting a riot. Thankfully, we don¡¯t have to leave the estate to have a good time. And by having a good time, I mean relaxing.

    ¡°I take it back,¡± Alana says with contentment as she soaks in the large tub. Her neck rests against the edge as she tilts her head back, eyes shut as my fingers work through her hair, massaging all the while. ¡°This is perfect.¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    The perfect activity for us? A little self-care. We¡¯ve been covered in blood and dirt so much lately, we¡¯ve gotten too used to it. She¡¯s beautiful either way, and I¡¯m quite literally living art, but there¡¯s something to be said about putting in the effort. Not just for admiration¡¯s sake. Cleaning up and dressing up just feels good.

    ¡°How are things? Besides training,¡± I ask, voice low, not wanting to ruin the peaceful mood that¡¯s settled over my hard-working knight.

    ¡°Fine, I suppose? It¡¯s been quiet.¡±

    ¡°Ah ah. Details. There¡¯s got to be something. Ah! Have you been spending time with Allen?¡± While Yulia amuses herself in the camp, her son remains at home. No one here is ideal for looking after a child but between the Stars, Bell, and my servants, the little boy is fed and watered.

    ¡°Mm. I check in with him at least twice a day, before and after training.¡± Her lips turn up at the corners. ¡°He calls me Al now.¡±

    ¡°Not Aunty?¡±

    ¡°Little brat thinks it¡¯s funny.¡±

    ¡°You sound like you do too.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s cute enough to get away with it.¡±

    ¡°Do you want one? A kid, I mean. Or more.¡±

    She tenses but I massage with more gusto until she relaxes again. She tries to turn around but I stop her, earning a huff. ¡°What brought that on?¡±

    ¡°The natural flow of conversation? I realized we never talked about it. I wouldn¡¯t even know what to assume.¡± On one hand, she¡¯s a noble, and continuing the bloodline is ingrained in every noble child. I imagine it¡¯s especially important with the James family, seeing how many of them die every generation.

    But on the other hand, and I don¡¯t mean anything insulting with the thought, Alana does not strike me as the mothering type. She¡¯s too¡­not cold, because she¡¯s the opposite of that. Focused, that¡¯s it. Childrearing requires an investment of time and attention that someone with lofty goals simply can¡¯t afford to divert. It leads to childhoods like mine, where I was raised, or not raised, by a series of servants and tutors.

    ¡°I¡­never thought about it deeply. I intended to join the Stars after my time in the Hall and they aren¡¯t allowed to marry. I¡¯m sure they have, ah¡­"

    ¡°Sex? You can say it sweetie, it¡¯s not a bad word.¡±

    Her arm twitches and I grin, knowing she had to stop herself from swatting me. ¡°They take precautions to prevent the inevitable consequence. Victory may do a lot of debatably crazy things for the war but even we aren¡¯t crazy enough to let pregnant women march.¡±

    ¡°So, you admit you¡¯re all crazy?¡±

    ¡°Never denied it.¡±

    ¡°¡­and?¡± I prompt after she lapses into silence for too long.

    ¡°Gonna make me say it then,¡± she grumbles before saying louder, ¡°I put off even thinking about having a family until after I survived a campaign or two.¡±

    Ah. I forget sometimes, or rather most of the time, just how bleak Alana¡¯s life was before we met. I wonder, does she consider me her savior? Is that why she fell for me?

    ¡°Well, you survived a campaign.¡±

    ¡°Is this a roundabout way of telling me something?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯m the same. Never thought about it.¡±

    ¡°Okay then.¡±

    ¡°¡­Kii wants them though.¡±

    ¡°Ancestors protect us. Hopefully, they take after you.¡±

    ¡°Aw.¡±

    ¡°Would you rather they have your power and Kierra¡¯s temperament?¡±

    Saints shield us. ¡°¡­good point.¡±

    ¡°And Morgene isn¡¯t allowed to be alone with them until we¡¯ve hammered some common sense into their heads. No, too lenient. She¡¯s never allowed to be alone with them. Would she seduce her grandchildren? She wouldn¡¯t, right? That¡¯s too far even for them¡­I hate that I¡¯m not sure. And that I don¡¯t have to ask whether she¡¯d throw them into dangerous situations for ¡®training¡¯. How old do they start that? Five? Three?¡±

    ¡°For someone who hasn¡¯t given it much thought, you¡¯re kind of eager.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what being family is, right?¡± she grumbles, fighting her embarrassment.

    I¡¯m glad that she can¡¯t see the expression I¡¯m making right now. She has a much better opinion of family than I do, which is impressive given her history. Maybe she isn¡¯t a saint, and maybe she isn¡¯t a good person, as I don¡¯t think any good people would condone what we¡¯ve done, but she¡¯s a better person than me. More importantly, she makes me feel like I can be a better person, something that¡¯s important given the rest of the degenerates surrounding me.

    Placing my hand into the basin of water beside the tub, I reheat the cooling water and rinse her hair, earning a contented sigh for the effort. ¡°Scooch over.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    Rather than repeat myself, I easily lift her, Alana squawking in surprise at the sudden movement, and climb into the tub with her, settling her between my legs. It¡¯s a tight fit, but not so much to be uncomfortable. Another quick spell and it¡¯s my turn to sigh as steam rises around us. Another perfect moment. This is what my life is. The blood, the guts, and the dragons are just distractions, obstacles on the road.

    I could sit here for hours but Alana has other plans. My eyes that had slipped shut open as she moves, turning around to straddle me. I loosely wrap my hands around her waist, smiling lazily as she looks down at me with hooded eyes. ¡°Need something?¡±

    ¡°¡­you know what I need,¡± she whispers. One of her hands moves toward my chest but I catch her wrist. The look she gives me is priceless. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course I do. But¡­in a little while.¡± I drop her hand and guide her to lay her head on my shoulder. I just want to prolong this moment for a little longer. Besides, the water is still hot. It¡¯d be a waste not to take advantage of it. ¡°Then you call have your way with me.¡±

    My heart fills with warmth as she uselessly slaps my stomach.

 Arc 8-07

    ¡°You¡¯re messing with me.¡±

    ¡°I am~¡±

    Alana sighs as I giggle at her expense. My poor knight is feeling a bit frustrated, I imagine. After soaking until the bath cooled, she was eager to get her hands on me, getting very daring with the towel as we dried each other in the bedroom. The look in her eyes said she wanted to tackle me to the bed, but I put her off again, stopping her lewd advances with a simple request.

    ¡°I want to see you taken care of.¡±

    She caved in the face of my sincerity but wore the tiniest pout as I dressed her in one of Kierra¡¯s sheer nightgowns, the size difference turning the sexy garment cute. After that, I called in a little help, as I have no experience in proper grooming.

    No one that isn¡¯t used to her would be able to notice it, but Talia is excited when she enters the room carrying a tray laden with combs, brushes, jars, and bottles. Our flower takes her role as the clan¡¯s mistress quite seriously, to a degree I¡¯m sure her overprotective teacher-father would be concerned about. I doubt many modern minds would appreciate our arrangement. I wouldn¡¯t even know how to explain it, nor can I imagine replicating it with anyone else.

    Talia¡¯s devotion isn¡¯t just an arrangement, something she forces herself to do for benefits. She is her devotion. It doesn¡¯t make her happy to do it, it doesn¡¯t sadden her if she doesn¡¯t. It is just her nature.

    Talia doesn¡¯t function like the rest of us. Like her feelings. I don¡¯t fool myself into thinking she has affection for me. She doesn¡¯t have those feelings for anyone, not even for the man that raised her. That doesn¡¯t mean she doesn¡¯t care for us in her own way. It¡¯d never cross her mind to hug and kiss us if it wasn¡¯t a part of her role, but she values us because we add value to her life. She also takes the concepts of debt and gratitude very seriously. Those who do her a kindness, she owes them kindness. Those who do her wrong are owed a wrong.

    Aside from that, efficiency governs her actions, the quickest path that does the least harm. With the cultural guidelines of a flower to smooth out her blunt social skills, it¡¯s a perfect arrangement for her.

    However, her blossoming fascination with beauty has nothing to do with her persona. She has a passion for magic, but it¡¯s tied to practicality. Her desire to expand her closet at every opportunity is the only thing about her that I know is purely for pleasure. Ever since she learned to see with her rare eyes, she¡¯s been mildly obsessed with the art of pairing cloth and accessories.

    Talia will do anything short of self-harm if her role demands it. She would play dress-up with us regardless of her role. Aside from a shopping trip, something that¡¯s impossible at the moment, this is the best gift I can give her. And she takes to it with gusto, or as much gusto as she can manage.

    Alana is subjected to her attentions from head to toe, literally. Starting with her whole body being lathered in lotion that makes her skin feel as smooth as silk to her nails being painted, the white lacquer something Talia discovered in the room of the youngest Teppin daughter.

    What am I doing while my knight is being pampered by our flower? Making a nuisance of myself in the best way. Talia makes sure Alana is in a comfortable position before she does anything, but she doesn¡¯t allow her to move afterwards. She actually gets a little snippy if Alana dares to, as it threatens her work. Honestly, I don¡¯t know whose reactions I enjoy more; it¡¯s a two for one deal and I can¡¯t stop myself from teasing them both.

    I kneel beside Alana¡¯s chair, one arm loosely wrapped around her leg while I rest my head on her thigh. Talia is in the middle of painting her nails, holding one of Alana¡¯s wrists firmly while directing her to stretch her other arm over the back of the chair, fingers splayed. It means the frustrated knight can¡¯t touch me. I keep my hands to myself, not wanting to draw Talia¡¯s ire, but there are other ways to have my fun.

    Alana bites her lower lip as I shuffle to the side, putting myself between her legs and staring up at her. ¡°Something wrong?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to pay for this,¡± she hisses.

    ¡°Aw. I thought I was behaving.¡± I grin, channeling the memory of Kierra¡¯s smirk. ¡°I haven¡¯t even touched you. Or is that the problem? Did you want me to touch you, sweetie?¡±

    She stiffens like a board as I push up the gown she¡¯s wearing enough to stroke the side of her thigh, showing an admirable amount of control. ¡°Earlier, in the bath,¡± she hisses through her teeth. ¡°You said I could do whatever I want.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Anything.¡±

    ¡°You mean it?¡±

    ¡°When have I ever been able to deny you?¡±

    ¡°Then get off.¡±

    Chuckling, I scoot black and climb to my feet, holding my hands up in surrender. ¡°Alright, alright. You¡¯ve got to be hungry after training all day. I¡¯ll get us some¡ª"

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    I pause after taking a single step. Alana smiles but there¡¯s something wicked in it. She jerks her head. ¡°Come here. Right in front of me.¡±

    I guess she¡¯s feeling bold today. Not that I mind. There¡¯s something thrilling about Alana taking control in the bedroom. Mainly because she¡¯s so bad at it. Not that¡¯s it¡¯s unattractive or not pleasurable, but in that her authoritative persona collapses under the weight of her embarrassment. It happens every time without fail. The fun is seeing how long she can keep it up.

    ¡°Here I am,¡± I say, raising my brows in silent question. There isn¡¯t much she can do to me while Talia has control of her body.

    ¡°Strip,¡± she practically growls, though she¡¯s already blushing.

    ¡°Alright.¡± Not that there¡¯s much to take off. I slipped on a loose shirt and pants after our bath, knowing I wouldn¡¯t be wearing clothes long enough to bother putting effort into what I was wearing. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to fluster me, it¡¯s going to take a lot more than this,¡± I say after tossing my shirt aside.

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    Her gaze follows my pants as they fall to the floor before coming back up, stopping at my chest as she swallows. ¡°Get on the dresser.¡±

    On it? Strange, but she¡¯s the boss. I carefully slide Talia¡¯s tray of implements out of the way before hopping onto the furniture, bouncing lightly to make sure it can hold my weight. When I don¡¯t hear any worrying sounds, I turn back to Alana, waiting to hear what she has planned next.

    ¡°Spread your legs. I want to see.¡±

    ¡°See what?¡± I ask, still fairly composed, putting my heels on the dresser¡¯s edge and spreading my knees.

    ¡°You f-fuck yourself.¡±

    There it is! Her stern mask is already cracking but she valiantly tries to keep her expression composed. Though I¡¯m not entirely calm myself. That¡¯s quite the request.

    ¡°Since I can¡¯t touch you, you¡¯re going to do it.¡±

    Well. This isn¡¯t exactly the most comfortable position for this, but I did say she could do whatever she wanted. Admittedly, I didn¡¯t expect her to tell me to pleasure myself, but it isn¡¯t a disappointment.

    ¡°You know, this is my first time doing this,¡± I tell her, watching her twitching expression with rapt interest as one of my hands slides down my stomach, taking its time reaching its destination. ¡°Not taking care of myself.¡± There wasn¡¯t much else for a curious woman with no romantic prospects in sight to do to satisfy herself. ¡°I mean doing it with someone watching. Kierra hasn¡¯t asked me. Did you think you would take one of my firsts from under her nose?¡±

    The way her mouth twitches at the words is adorable. I¡¯m not sure but I think there¡¯s a hint of insecurity about measuring up to my wife. I love her, and she knows it, but it¡¯s a different kind of love. I know I can hold them both in my heart without issue. She knows it too, but maybe not completely. One of her objections to our relationship in the beginning was that she thought she wasn¡¯t good enough, unable to measure up to me or Kierra. On top of that, she¡¯s just plain competitive. I don¡¯t think she imagines she can beat our lovely elf in anything.

    Hearing that she grabbed something that Kierra didn¡¯t, that she beat her to it, well. It¡¯s obviously exciting her. Her free hand is flexing, a useless gesture to satisfy her desire to act. I wonder what she¡¯s imagining right now.

    ¡°Don¡¯t use your cock,¡± she says in a husky voice. ¡°One finger only.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just mean.¡± Still, I follow her order, sighing at the mild intrusion. My other hand goes to my chest, cupping a breast. ¡°It¡¯s not enough.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to be,¡± she mutters, watching my arm, transfixed. ¡°Since you want to be a tease, you can tease yourself.¡±

    I groan, partially at the implication of her words but mostly because I pinched the nipple I¡¯d been teasing, desperate for more. Fine. It¡¯s not much to work with but with my dexterity and stamina, I can probably¡ª

    ¡°Slow down,¡± she snaps and my hand reflexively calms, my rising pleasure deflating back to a level that is quickly going to drive me mad. But that¡¯s the game. Alana is in charge. If I want to get off, I have to get her to let me. Jumping straight to the conclusion would be satisfying but playing around like this isn¡¯t bad either. This is the kind of challenge I don¡¯t mind. Really, is it a challenge? Her impressive will is nowhere to be found when it comes to the carnal and I have a lot less shame.

    ¡°Alana~¡± I moan. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to see me cum? It wouldn¡¯t take me long. I¡¯m already close. Fuck, I¡¯ve been ready since I saw you earlier. You have no idea how sexy you are when you¡¯re swinging that sword around. And the smell.¡±

    ¡°You damn pervert. You get off on me smelling like sweat?¡±

    ¡°The smell of you.¡± This body¡¯s senses are crazy sensitive. I reflexively block out most of what I pick up to keep from being overwhelmed but not her. I don¡¯t even have words to explain it. The only thing that comes to mind is a picture of Alana.

    ¡°Then there¡¯s the sweat and the smell of desire, mm. I bet you didn¡¯t know that your body reacts the moment you see me. That¡¯s right. I can smell when you want me, which is all the time. But that exact combination is how you smell when we¡¯re fucking. It puts me in the moment, in every moment. One whiff and I¡¯m on the bed, with you under me. Or me under you. It¡¯s been a while since you¡¯ve had that kind of fun. Is that what you want to do? You going to order me to lie down and take it?¡±

    ¡°Y-you¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m imagining it, Alana. You¡¯re so much stronger now, aren¡¯t you? I bet you can go for hours. I¡¯m thinking about you pushing into me right now, sweetie. Rutting into me like an animal, just like last time. You used me till you passed out from the pleasure. You were so cute and it felt so good. You feel so good, Alana.¡±

    ¡°How can you say this crap with a straight face?¡± she hisses between ragged breaths.

    Easy. I can tell what it¡¯s doing to you; her heart is racing and the smell of her desire is growing stronger. But I¡¯m nowhere near as calm as I¡¯m pretending to be. This is embarrassing, especially because she¡¯s not the only one listening. I steal a glance at Talia only to find that she¡¯s completely ignoring me, wholly focused on her task.

    For some reason, things tighten with pleasure at the sight. Saints, why is that blank expression of hers so perfect? Am I really enjoying being ignored?

    Maybe I am a pervert. Ha! Who am I kidding? Of course I am.

    ¡°Alana! Faster, baby!¡± I practically squeal, making my voice higher as I rock my hips. ¡°Harder! Like that, just like that!¡±

    ¡°Fuck! S-shut up!¡± she shouts, composure cracking. ¡°Do something else with that mouth!¡±

    Something else? Hm. Oh, wait. Could I? This body is incredibly flexible. And she did just give me an order. Haha, this is going to be good.

    Grinning, I meet her gaze, savoring the sight of her wide blue eyes, her blush reaching all the way to her neck. Despite that, she hasn¡¯t moved an inch. I wonder if she can keep it up?

    Assured I have her full attention, I bend over. There is a pressure that will soon become painful as I stretch my flexibility to its limits, but I manage.

    ¡°What are you¡­¡± She trails off with a strangled groan, failing to completely hold it in as the sound of my sloppily eating myself out fills the room. I exaggerate it for her benefit, inwardly chuckling as her heart starts to gallop. But then I snake my prodigious tongue into my tunnel and there¡¯s nothing fake about the sounds I make.

    I designed it for this purpose and by the saints its perfect. The length, the strength, and knowing exactly where to go is too strong a combination. It doesn¡¯t take long before I¡¯m rocking my hips in earnest, having completely forgotten about teasing Alana.

    Saints¡¯ blessed asses, I¡¯m actually going to make myself cum like this.

    The thought is enough to send me over the edge, my squeal of surprise at the sudden climax muffled by my own folds as I shake.

    Once the pleasure subsides, I uncurl, carefully leaning against the wall the dresser is pushed against. My eyes search for Alana¡¯s and find her watching me with a dropped jaw, utterly shocked. Even Talia is watching, having paused in her work. Her expression is nowhere close to Alana¡¯s shock, but one corner of her lips is turned up a tiny fraction, hinting at her amusement. I wink at her before turning back to Alana.

    ¡°I said anything you want,¡± I purr, licking my lips. Her whole-body shiver does wonders for my ego, not that it needs the help.

    The door opening interrupts the moment. Kierra walks in, closing the door behind her before looking up. Her gaze goes to me first, then Alana, then Talia, and finally back to me as she smiles. I don¡¯t know how much she pieces together but the outline is easy enough to draw.

    ¡°I came to tell you that dinner will be done in an hour, but perhaps I will have the pet bring you plates?¡±

    Alana finally snaps out of her shock. ¡°Um, wanna stay?¡±

    Our lovely elf raises a brow before turning to me. I shrug. ¡°Alana gets to pick today.¡±

    ¡°Then I will stay.¡± Kicking off her shoes, she strides further into the room and stands at Alana¡¯s side, leaning over to whisper in her ear. ¡°And am yours to command.¡±

    ¡°Then help Talia with whatever she¡¯s trying to do because I want out of this chair.¡±

 Arc 8-08

    Despite her eagerness, Alana does not get out of the chair quickly. She¡¯s in charge tonight, but she also recognizes what I¡¯m trying to do for Talia. She doesn¡¯t rush our flower who insists on perfection, uncaring about the tension in the room as she finishes with Alana¡¯s nails and moves on to her hair. Her only concession to the situation is to turn the chair so Alana can see the bed without craning her neck while she tackles her hair. To my surprise, Alana doesn¡¯t want to cut it, putting up with the careful grooming with just the slightest bounce of her leg.

    In the meantime, Kierra and I are meant to amuse her. My wife has no problems taking orders from Alana, though it is like a cat humoring a mouse. She is delighted with the whole situation. I wonder if she also sees a ¡°conqueror¡± in her. Not for the first time, I¡¯m glad that they get along so well. That everyone gets along so well. There are a lot of strong and divergent personalities in our clan. It could have easily ended in catastrophe.

    Unions with multiple partners aren¡¯t known for being harmonious; Duke James and his three wives are a perfect example. It¡¯s a small miracle that we all work together so well. Or, maybe not so much of miracle. Kierra has rejected plenty of potential lovers. She wouldn¡¯t allow anyone that would cause discourse into our merry clan. Aside from that, I like to think that I¡¯m also a pretty good judge of character.

    Yes, it¡¯s by design that my lovers aren¡¯t just accepting of our situation but actively embrace it. Even the most reticent, Alana, is deviant in her desires like the rest of us. Whether it was something suppressed by the heavy fate tied to James¡¯ blood or a result of our influence, she¡¯s thoroughly corrupted. Only a pervert would ask for me to bathe Kierra while she watches¡­using my tongue.

    I have to admit, it¡¯s a creative way to keep us excited while keeping us from getting off. It¡¯s also incredibly embarrassing. Things between me and my savage elf tend to get wild but this is downright animalistic. It¡¯s one thing to do something like this in pursuit of pleasure, but without an orgasm attached to it, it seems so¡­bestial.

    Kierra has no concerns of course. She doesn¡¯t waste a moment stripping off her clothes and lying face down on the bed, kicking her feet to tell me where to start. I have to push down my awkwardness in the beginning but by the time I make my way to her thighs, I¡¯m comfortable enough to not mind it. And then I start to have fun, leaning into the spirit of the act. Kierra laughs as I bite into her ass.

    ¡°Tickling is not fair,¡± she says, a twinkle in her eyes as she looks at me over her shoulder.

    Cheh. I thought I put some real strength into that. How about this then?

    With a thought, I call on a nostalgic form, that of the green wolf that brought us together. Fur sprouts along my body as my nails turn into claws and my teeth become fangs. I do my best approximation at a growl, baring my new impressive maw.

    Kierra just coos at me, rolling onto her back. ¡°Oh no. A beast has caught me.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have been walking in the forest all alone, little girl,¡± I say, fighting a laugh as I try to pitch my voice to a monstrous timbre.

    She tries to look scared. Really. It¡¯s just so unnatural to her. The only time I¡¯ve seen her afraid is when she thought she might lose me; her heart is the only part of her that¡¯s vulnerable. Something trying to eat her, literally and figuratively? Even in her imagination, that¡¯s a good time.

    Or maybe her lips keep trying to curl into a smile because I¡¯m playing my part as badly as she¡¯s playing hers.

    ¡°Are you going to eat me?¡± she asks, sounding far too happy about it.

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    ¡°Dirty girls are my favorite snack.¡± I punctuate the words by licking the valley between her breast before biting one, raking my sharp teeth over the nipple. She twitches but doesn¡¯t break character.

    ¡°Have mercy, Miss Beast. I swear I¡¯m not a dirty girl.¡±

    ¡°Lies.¡± She can¡¯t fully suppress her giggle as I loudly sniff around her, trailing my nose down her stomach, taking a moment to nuzzle into her abs before pushing it between her legs. ¡°You reek,¡± I say with a triumphant huff, as if I¡¯ve seen through some great deception. ¡°Traipsing through the trees smelling that. You¡¯re practically begging for something to come along and devour you. But I¡¯ve got to clean you up. Can¡¯t be eating something so filthy.¡±

    Her stifled laughter turns into a moan as my tongue lavishes her folds. I purposely keep my movements erratic and vague, obeying Alana¡¯s direction not to get each other off, but it¡¯s hard. Kierra¡¯s sweetness is a strong temptation, her body practically begging me to drink from her. I can tell she¡¯s working just as hard to hold back, her hands twisting the sheets as she tries to control her rocking hips.

    I raise my head as I feel my control fraying, panting over her as I try to thread it back together. Remember the game. ¡°Mm. That¡¯s one part of you clean but I can still smell the filth.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s eyes, more green than gold in the dimming light of the evening, are hooded as she stares up at me, chest heaving as she tries to regain her composure. ¡°Miss Beast is wrong. I swear I¡¯m not dirty.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. You can¡¯t fool my nose.¡± I turn her around, raising her hips. Grinning wildly, I take another bite of her ass, hard enough to leave teeth marks in her tough skin. Hah! She doesn¡¯t giggle this time, a languid moan escaping her. ¡°Is this where the filth is?¡± I growl, slapping my bite mark.

    ¡°No,¡± she groans half-heartedly.

    I wonder what she thinks I¡¯m going to do. Whatever it is, I doubt what she¡¯s imagining even comes close.

    We rarely mess around with each other¡¯s back doors. It isn¡¯t that we don¡¯t like it, this body was made to feel pleasure every which way and Kierra is a deviant. It¡¯s more a matter of not fixing what¡¯s broken. There is also the matter of us taking turns trying to impregnate one another, a long-standing bet with no conclusion in sight; Geneva wasn¡¯t lying when she said the strange construction of my body would have a large impact on my fertility.

    The last time I remember doing anything like this was when I had to admonish my elf, using my ooze to claim every bit of her I could reach. She enjoyed that plenty, so I know she¡¯s going to like this.

    But I underestimate exactly how much she likes it.

    Her body shakes as I run my tongue between her cheeks, playing my part by loudly breathing in her musky scent as I continue the bath. There¡¯s nothing sweet about this end, but the slightly salty taste isn¡¯t bad either. A part of my mind balks at it, but that adds to the excitement. I wonder if Alana can see how excited I am; I can definitely feel the desire coating my thighs. Saints, if she doesn¡¯t finish soon, I¡¯m going to lose my mind. Remember the game. Remember your role.

    Kierra actually squeals as I push into her and I do mean push. It takes quite a bit of strength to worm my tongue into the tight ring, every bit that I claim a battle. Her whines grow louder and more plaintive as I force my prodigious muscle as deep as it¡¯ll go. I don¡¯t think she cares about our little game anymore. No, I¡¯m sure she doesn¡¯t. She¡¯s not even trying to be quiet. I wish I could see her face but my world is nothing but her toned ass pressed against my face and the tight walls squeezing me.

    I flex my tongue, writhing the muscle in different ways, searching for what works best. I¡¯m not prepared for her to go completely limp, her breathing replaced by breathless gasps. It¡¯s like the action saps all the strength from her body. Huh. I guess she¡¯s really weak to this. Good to know. It¡¯s giving me¡­ideas.

    Her climax sneaks up on me, as its unlike her usual writhing, wild release. I would think it was just a particularly long shiver if not for the thick scent of her arousal, her normal roar of satisfaction replaced by soft mewling. I pull out of her and drop her waist, delighted to find her weakness isn¡¯t a ploy as she collapses onto to the bed, still shuddering. ¡°There. Now it¡¯s time to¡ª"

    My words are cut off by a hand grabbing the back of my neck. The grip isn¡¯t hard, but I freeze anyway, obeying the silent command. I turn around and find Alana standing by the side of the bed. Despite lacking experience, Talia has done a great job, her sense of aesthetics seeing her through. Alana¡¯s blond locks have been trimmed and brushed till they practically shine. Her lips are also painted, the pink making them look fuller and softer. She looks like a doll, directly at odds with her hard gaze, though it isn¡¯t anger behind her glare. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to be denied a second time.

    ¡°Bad dog.¡±

 Arc 8-09

    Alana¡¯s normally stern gaze is softened with an endearing mix of eagerness and anxiety, contrasting her pretend frown as she joins the game. I can¡¯t hide my smile as my familiarity with her practically points out the signs of her nerves: the tension throughout her whole body, the slight trembling of her lips, the way she can¡¯t quite look me in the eyes. Saints, she¡¯s so out of her element. But that¡¯s one of the reasons I love her. She throws herself into whatever she wants, whether that¡¯s training to slay titans or bedroom games.

    I search her gaze, looking for the root of her desire. Or rather, wondering if any part of this game isn¡¯t to her liking. Kierra, my deviant savage, has few qualms about anything; rather, the strangeness of certain acts makes them more appealing. I feel like Talia only cares about the result.

    Alana is different. She has to be seduced, enticed. Teased and towed down the path.

    I¡¯m worried my appearance, particularly the fur, might be a turn off but it¡¯s easy to see my concerns are pointless. Her fingers glide through the fur on the back of my neck without a hint of discomfort, hand twining in my hair before yanking sharply. I could resist, but I follow the motion, letting my head snap back and adding a whine for effect.

    Perhaps too good of effect. Her grip weakens as she urges me to meet her gaze, looking for real discomfort. I flash a smug grin, instantly eradicating her doubt as her fingers tighten again.

    ¡°I can¡¯t leave you alone for a moment without you causing trouble,¡± she snaps, channeling the stern disapproval of every tutor I¡¯ve ever had. ¡°Can¡¯t you follow simple instructions?¡±

    Hm. So many places this can go. She called me a dog¡­should I be so excited about that? No, no. I can examine that later. For now, my part. I could play into the animal role more, maybe use big ol¡¯ puppy eyes on her¡­no. Alana is weak to words, I¡¯d be too tempted to break character. And I¡¯m gonna turn the tables on her eventually, that¡¯s a given. Ohhhh, I¡¯ve got it.

    ¡°You¡¯ve grown arrogant, Lady.¡± I thought about going with hero, as I am clearly the villain, but that suggests very unflattering comparisons. Lady is also a title of power. It also suits her current appearance, which wouldn¡¯t be out of place at a capital ball if she had a dress on. But most important of all, it¡¯s what she wants. Not the title specifically, but the acknowledgment. The authority.

    My choice is vindicated by the sharp breath she inhales through her nose, a telling action that says she¡¯s trying to control her reactions. Joy blooms in my chest at the small success and I let my mind embrace it. The world is only this room, my two lovers and our audience of one, Talia having taken a seat after arranging her tools and accessories on the dresser. Is it irresponsible to ignore our problems? Yes. With each passing day, the situation worsens, developing on countless fronts.

    But¡­I¡¯m tired. Maybe there are heroes out there who can move from one crisis to the next, one tragedy to the next, without blinking or faltering, but that¡¯s not me. An occasional break isn¡¯t going to cut it. I admit defeat.

    I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a perfect balance out there, but for now, I choose the extreme of existing wholly in this moment until I feel ready to face the world outside our bedroom.

    Saints, do I even need a reason to enjoy this?! I didn¡¯t smash a city to brood over it all day. It was for this, only this.

    ¡°You may have chained me, but don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be your servant forever.¡±

    Alana¡¯s features twist into an impressive scowl, which manages to be both cute and threatening. ¡°The cost of your life was to serve me, always. You may have been a titan once, but now you¡¯re nothing more than my slave. I think you need another reminder of your place, pet.¡±

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    Uh¡­

    I stare at her with a slightly dropped jaw for so long she becomes nervous, mask cracking as she whispers, ¡°Too much?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but in a good way,¡± I whisper back. Really. I was not prepared for what those words paired with that glare would do to me. Been awhile since my knight has made my heart skip a beat like that.

    I flash her an encouraging smile before slipping back into my own role, with a few adjustments. Since she¡¯s pushing the beast route, I decide to lean into her a little harder, growing a tail and large fluffy ears. I also thicken the fur on my limbs while lessening it over my front, exposing myself from my collarbone to my hips. It¡¯s hard to gauge how I look without a mirror, but I have full confidence in this sculpted body of mine. It¡¯d take a lot more than a few uneven patches of fur to make me look anything less than gorgeous.

    Alana certainly doesn¡¯t complain, despite the force used to throw me backward being far from gentle. She clicks her tongue as she looks down on Kierra, who is slowly recovering from her ¡°bath¡±. ¡°The dog was right about one thing. You¡¯ve got not business walking where you don¡¯t belong.¡±

    Our elf heroically pulls together her shattered persona, heart slowing with her deep breaths as she closes her eyes. When she opens them again, they¡¯re glossy with tears, her lips trembling as she looks up at the stern Alana.

    ¡°Y-you! H-how can you let that thing roam the forest?! It¡­did those things¡­¡± She hides her face in the sheets. ¡°I can¡¯t return home with this shame.¡±

    ¡°Why not? You don¡¯t plan to live in the trees for the rest of your life, do you?¡±

    ¡°What choice do I have? No one will have me now.¡±

    ¡°Cheh. Let me see.¡± Alana roughly grabs Kierra by the chin, tilting her tear-stained face up while humming thoughtfully. ¡°Your face is pretty enough but I suppose that¡¯s doesn¡¯t make up for that empty head.¡± She drops her. ¡°I can¡¯t have you wandering the forest, making more problems. If you don¡¯t want to return to whatever backwater you climbed out of, I¡¯ll have to take custody of you.¡±

    ¡°Really, Lady? You¡¯d do that?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like I¡¯m doing you a favor. You¡¯ll work for your bed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes! Mother always said I worked the hardest. You won¡¯t regret this.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I will. The dog has already taken a liking to you. You¡¯re the perfect treat to make it behave.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s stricken look is absolutely priceless. I thought she was a terrible actress, but it seems it just took a little time to find her stride. Or maybe she¡¯s more interested after a taste of the rewards. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t mean to give me to that beast?!¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°But¡­you lied!¡±

    ¡°Did I? I said you¡¯d be earning your bed. Lucky you, you won¡¯t have to move too far from it to do so.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t! I-I¡¯ll run!¡±

    Alana¡¯s sneer is full of contempt. ¡°So eager to start your job? The dog loves a good chase, though a brainless fool like you hardly qualifies. You wouldn¡¯t make it twenty strides before my obnoxious pet drags you back. I suggest you don¡¯t waste the energy. You gave yourself to me and I intend to collect.¡±

    Kierra whimpers and curls into a ball, shudders running through her body. Alana¡¯s shoulders straighten at the sight. Mm, she¡¯s definitely enjoying this. I always thought that her desire to walk throughout the kingdom passing judgment was because of a righteous spirit, but maybe it¡¯s something else. Maybe¡­she enjoys the power of it. The absolute control of weighing people¡¯s lives. A power she would use better than anyone else I know but not so much out of the goodness of her heart.

    I¡¯m not disappointed by the revelation. The opposite. I¡¯ve always feared that she would get herself into trouble doing the right thing. If her motives are inherently selfish, there¡¯s a much smaller chance of her throwing herself in the path of a spell to shield innocents or some other nonsense. Mm, what a relief.

    The stern gaze returns to me, the hesitance of before gone. I guess Kierra¡¯s whimpering is emboldening her.

    ¡°You hear that, dog?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lady.¡± My additional limb comes with its own instincts that I can¡¯t control, wagging with excitement. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re not such a terrible owner.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself.¡± She crooks her finger before pointing to the floor in front of her. I obey the silent command, slipping off the bed to sit at her feet. Her hands move through my hair, petting me as if I¡¯m an actual animal, before grabbing my furry ears. ¡°If you want your treat, you¡¯ll have to ask for it nicely.¡±

 Arc 8-10 (Alana)

    Before meeting Lou, Alana could never imagine herself as an informal actress with her lovers, weaving stories around indecent acts. She didn¡¯t imagine anything related to the bedroom aside from being grateful to collapse into a decent bed after a long day of training. A condition wholly unique to her. The north was a place of passions. The stark reality of dying young coupled with the extremely cold nights meant that it wasn¡¯t rare for a bed to have two or more occupants at night.

    She¡¯d received offers. Lou wasn¡¯t even the first woman to proposition her; marriage between women wasn¡¯t common but the Stars had seeded a strong tradition of female soldiers finding comfort in each other. No one would have blamed her or shamed her. Rather, a little intimacy would have drastically improved her reputation amongst the other trainees.

    They didn¡¯t think bad of her, as nothing was respected more than a burning desire to fight titans, but she certainly didn¡¯t have the favor of her sister. They didn¡¯t invite her out for drinks or ask to dance with her during the rare parties hosted by the orders. No one made small talk with her in the mornings or offered to wash her back in a steaming bath before bed.

    To the people who watched her grow up with seemingly no passion for anything except war and glory, the sight of her standing with her eyes tightly shut, her bottom lip between her teeth as she struggled to hold in her moans, would have been unthinkable. She could scarcely acknowledge it herself, though that was mainly because thinking while Lou was doing everything possible to erase her ability to think was a challenge too great for even heroes.

    It wasn¡¯t fair. Alana knew exactly how ridiculous Lou¡¯s prime form was. She¡¯d designed it to be irresistible and addictive, helped by a creature that had been seducing intelligent beings for who knew how long and, by the ancestors, it was effective.

    As that sinuous muscle pushed into her, reaching deeper than a tongue had any right to go and moving in ways no tongue should move, Alana¡¯s mind blanked. Forget their little game. She was struggling to remember words. Orderly thoughts were far beyond her, but the last bit of stubborn in her heart refused to let her demeanor be shattered so easily. She locked her knees and swallowed the sounds that wanted to escape her throat as the familiar pleasure washed through her.

    ¡°The Lady isn¡¯t so strong when the enemy makes it past her armor, is she?¡± she heard through the ringing in her ears.

    Lou really was a pervert. Alana didn¡¯t understand how she could say such embarrassing stuff with a straight face all the time. Or how she could sit on all fours, mimicking an animal, and still look so smug. It probably had something to do with the evidence of Alana¡¯s pleasure that coated her lips. Or the fact that the fur liberally covering her body didn¡¯t hinder her beauty one bit. The woman had a literal tail and she was still the most gorgeous thing Alana had ever seen.

    It really was unfair.

    She hadn¡¯t even worked for the sculpted muscles of her stomach that Alana itched to trace. If that unfairness didn¡¯t belong to her, Alana might have hated her, consumed by the same envy that had plagued her as a girl in the face of Yulia¡¯s undeserved popularity. However, since Lou was bound and determined to share as much of her good fortune as Alana could take, physically and metaphorically, the blond could only find it endearing.

    A sharp prick of Lou¡¯s nails pushing into her thigh focused her thoughts, bringing her back to a curious violet gaze. The game. Her persona. Right, she was supposed to be some kind of noble lady and Lou was playing the monster she¡¯d forcefully tamed.

    Briefly, she wondered what they would do if she dropped the act, threw herself on the bed, and begged them to take her every way imaginable.

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    ¡­she¡¯d save that for later.

    For the moment, she was enjoying the playfulness in the air. Lou wasn¡¯t the only one who¡¯d been moping about. Kierra had been similarly tense. Alana never thought she¡¯d see the day that the chaotic elf would behave, but she¡¯d been one-step away from demure for days, cowed by the presence of her parents. Talia had also been quieter than usual, which was saying something as she wasn¡¯t the most outspoken to begin with.

    Alana didn¡¯t think that she had let the situation affect her too much, as she knew for certain that she¡¯d be just as driven to train whether they¡¯d leveled the city or not. That didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t appreciate the break. They all needed this. And in a way, this was also training.

    Rolly insisted that she needed to develop a persona, to forge a reputation and wield it alongside her sword. She¡¯d asked why the lueorale was so focused on her, not pushing her story-telling agenda on the rest of the clan. The response had been annoying; Lou and Kierra didn¡¯t need the help. Both were stars that would blaze amongst the mediocrity of the night sky regardless of their intentions or efforts to do so. Talia had no interest in competing with the monsters of potential, but Alana wanted to walk ahead of them. If she didn¡¯t take drastic action, her plain and dutiful tendencies would be forgotten in the wake of the purple titan that leveled cities and the green death that danced along its dozens of limbs.

    For all those reasons, she forced herself to stitch together her shattered mind, tugging on the strands of their narrative to stretch it a little further.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourself,¡± she said, forcing contempt into her voice, using her foot to push her lover backward. She trailed it down Lou¡¯s body, stopping over her navel and pushing her toes in, luxuriating in the soft fur there. Lou¡¯s squirming was entirely unintentional, but she grinned at the bonus. ¡°Those talents of yours are the only reason I keep you around.¡±

    ¡°It seems the Lady is just a beast herse¡ª"

    Alana moved her foot to Lou¡¯s crotch and ground her heel, grinning at the moan that interrupted Lou¡¯s words. ¡°Quiet, or I¡¯ll send you back to your cage.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lady.¡±

    If only that were true. Governing a territory, she could do without, but she still wanted the title that was owed to her.

    ¡°Get up.¡±

    Lou followed the command and Alana grabbed her by the back of the neck, like an errant pup, guiding her back to the bed. Kierra was lying on her back, watching the two of them with a smile, but when she noticed the change, she slipped back into character, false terror and apprehension coloring her expression. It was so exaggerated, Alana almost burst into laughter, just barely managing to keep control of herself.

    ¡°Sit,¡± she commanded, settling Lou at the foot of the bed. She bared her teeth at Kierra who flinched and curled up, as if she was really an ignorant village girl being stared at by a beast. Alana¡¯s lips twitched as she stepped around the bed to the audience of one.

    Talia glanced at her and Alana bent over, whispering as softly as she could. Not that it would stop the monsters on the bed from hearing her. ¡°I need to borrow some of your ribbons.¡± She tried not to laugh at the tiny frown on the woman¡¯s face, but a small chuckle escaped her control. For the woman with a face like a block of ice, she might as well be scowling. ¡°If anything happens, I¡¯ll replace them three times over.¡±

    That mollified the flower who pushed the tray closer. Alana grabbed two of the ribbons she¡¯d rejected putting in her own hair. She was about to return to the bed, but stopped, turning back to give their mistress a kiss. While Talia didn¡¯t care for intimacy with the same enthusiasm as them, she enjoyed it, enough that Alana imagined she would have some small amount of longing being left out. More importantly, everyone liked knowing they were desired, wanted. Being ignored was a unique pain.

    Whether Talia appreciated the gesture or not, she returned the kiss with sharp professionalism, exploring Alana¡¯s mouth with a confident efficiency that was hard to distinguish from passion. Alana¡¯s face was flushed as she pulled away, ignoring the unspoken promise in Talia¡¯s actions and thinking to herself that she was a ridiculously lucky woman. A thought reinforced by the falsely pleading eyes staring up at her, more green than gold in the weakening light of the evening, as she tied Kierra¡¯s wrists to the headboard. The delicate knots couldn¡¯t hold back the woman¡¯s prodigious strength but that was the point.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think about escaping girl,¡± she hissed, bending over the elf. ¡°If you dare break your bonds, you¡¯ll face a far worse punishment than the beast.¡±

    Kierra¡¯s eyes lit up with amusement as she understood the rules of the game, but a fearful whimper escaped her lips. Satisfied, Alana climbed off her.

 Arc 8-11 (Kierra)

    Arrogance, the confidence of no substance. As fleeting and vicious as a storm, as useless as a string of pearls on a swine.

    Kierra had been called arrogant many times in her life, her family many more times. They were Atainna, the royal blood. The blessed blood. The cursed blood. What they were called depended on the perspective, but one thing was universal; all gazed upon their family with expectations, whether it be as monsters or champions.

    It created pressure. Kierra had used that pressure to forge herself, reveling in the conflict like her mother, but not all of her siblings could say the same. Her sister had run away to dance in the gardens of High Noon. Her brother had taken to the seas, disappearing over the vast swath of anonymity offered by the oceans. The saddest of her siblings had run off into Twilight with delusions of grandeur, lost to everyone but memory.

    But Kierra wasn¡¯t always so confident in her abilities and her place in the world. Even before the fateful night when her desires were laid bare, she struggled with her identity, caught between the healers of her father¡¯s blood and the tyrants of her mother¡¯s. Her early years were a confusing time, where she often contemplated whether she was walking the right path. After her imprisonment, such thoughts plagued her daily, to the point it became torturous.

    Yet, as her partner stalked toward her in the guise of a beast, tail swishing like an eager puppy and grinning with canines that didn¡¯t match her beautiful face, Kierra was thankful for every decision she¡¯d ever made, as it had led her to this moment. Her father was right. Decades ago, he had counseled her in the value of restraint, of kindness. She was a huntress, a conqueror, a warrior, but that didn¡¯t mean she had to be cruel. She didn¡¯t have to inflict mindless destruction on the world. The world lived alongside those that lived on it. It took notice. Fate was its will and by its will, she would be rewarded for good deeds that seemed to have no consequence.

    Lou was a better reward than she could ever ask, better than she deserved. Their meeting and their love seemed bigger than them; what were the chances that someone perfect for her, in both mind and body, would drop into her lap in her direst hour? Even if an unimaginably powerful being hadn¡¯t inserted itself into Lou¡¯s life, she wouldn¡¯t think it was pure chance. Miracles were made, not bestowed to the undeserving.

    Their meeting, their union, was a message. A prophecy. The two of them and their clan were meant for great things, whether they be miraculous or monstrous. That was why Kierra pushed, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt. They had time, they had forever, but Kierra didn¡¯t want her love to be caught off guard. She didn¡¯t want her to be pained by her inability, as Kierra was.

    The appearance of her parents had reminded her of her own inability. Lou didn¡¯t know but Morgene had walked Kierra through the ruins of the city and chastised her about how poorly they¡¯d decimated it. Apparently, if one was going to destroy a city, they should do it entirely, leaving not even its bones. Morgene was outright offended that Lou, with her bumbling prowess, had claimed more lives.

    Opposite of her, watching her father contend against Lou with quiet competence where she¡¯d been bested, even if it was only by surprise, was a blow to her ego.

    They reminded Kierra that she was lacking. That they were all lacking compared to the monsters that had pursued strength for centuries before retiring to unknown corners of her homeland. If they meant to challenge dragons, they would all have to put in a lot more effort. A charge that she would lead, as she knew that her devoted spouse would only be motivated if she was running after her.

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    But a small break every once in a while was fine. She would have deeply regretted not seeing her clan acting so cute. Lou tried to be a villain, but her love and care seeped into every action. Then there was Alana, acting the stern mistress while literally shaking with desire. All the while, both laughed and smiled, breaking character. It had been a while since she¡¯d seen them so carefree and she relished it, doing her best to play along with their little game.

    ¡°Hehehe. You¡¯re all mine now.¡± Clawed hands trailed down her sides, grabbing her waist as Lou pushed apart her legs. Kierra once again affirmed her conviction that the matriarchs of Twilight couldn¡¯t learn of her love before she was strong enough to rip their spines out of their backs. Otherwise, they¡¯d never know peace.

    Different clans hunted mates for different advantages: beauty, strength, magic. For their preferred traits, they would bed even the most grotesque creatures. For Lou, a being of infinite potential that was also attractive? War was too mild a word for the chaos that would ensue. Her eyes alone were treasures the matriarchs would spill blood for.

    ¡°Kii,¡± a voice softer than a whisper prompted as Lou loomed over her. ¡°You¡¯re terrified, remember?¡±

    The game. Yes, she was a terrified, powerless girl. How hilarious. Even in the face of true death, she¡¯d awoken a new passion. Perhaps there was something broken in her mind, but she had never feared death. She didn¡¯t want to die because she loved life, but the threat of the end had never made her pause. If a creature that looked like Lou ambushed her on her way anywhere and wanted to have its way with her, it¡¯d be all she could do to hold back long enough to make sure she didn¡¯t cause her gentle conqueror any hurt.

    She couldn¡¯t imagine the fear her persona was supposed to feel. The best she could manage was mimicking the panic she¡¯d instilled in her opponents when her peers still thought they could challenge her.

    ¡°W-what are you going to do with me?¡± she asked, making her voice quaver.

    Lou bared her teeth, but her eyes danced with amusement. ¡°I¡¯m going to do whatever I want.¡±

    It was truly a struggle to be afraid of such an offer. ¡°Please, don¡¯t hurt me!¡± She hoped her squeal as a tongue trailed her cheek sounded something other than delighted but there was no way to stop her hips from grinding into her lover.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯d never hurt you. We¡¯re going to be together for a loooong time.¡±

    Her mouth was stolen, the presence of fur and teeth adding new sensations to the familiar act. She happily welcomed the invader that pushed past her lips, a thrill fluttering in her gut as she thought of where it had been earlier. A chastising bite on her lips and a quick pout reminded her she was being a little too eager and Kierra relaxed, trying to appear reticent. Something that became harder with every passing moment, as the more docile she became, the more eager her lover¡¯s response, as if to compensate. And all the while, she could feel Lou¡¯s ¡°gift¡± rising, coaxed by the delicious friction of their bodies rubbing together.

    Feeling that part of Lou always awakened something in the elf. It was worse than the effect trolls had on her. Their scent caused her mind to blank, leaving her body susceptible to her desires. Her Lou did shut her reason down. It transformed it.

    Everything desired her love; her mind, her body, and she suspected her spirit. Her thoughts didn¡¯t stop. They turned to one thing, supported by love and acceptance. She swore she could feel her Twilight ancestors at her back, prodding her to follow nature¡¯s call, to take her perfect mate again and again until an army of the next generation, stronger than any other, was ready to conquer the world. It was a primal urge that went deeper than pleasure, coming from the same place that reveled in tearing apart prey. An instinct that wouldn¡¯t be denied.

    When her lover entered her, she couldn¡¯t stop the shout that burst out of her, more of a roar than a scream, her persona be damned. A sharp pressure on her throat cut off the sound, the large teeth testing the durability of her skin, making it hard to breathe. She tried to hold back, truly. But she couldn¡¯t take five breaths before she snapped her bindings, heart pounding furiously as she tackled Lou, her lover¡¯s surprised yelp only spurring her excitement.

    ¡°I guess the game¡¯s over,¡± she distantly heard Alana mutter before she was lost to the whims of her blood.

 Arc 8-12

    We didn¡¯t make it to dinner.

    Predictably, Kierra ended the game. Not that anyone blamed her. It¡¯s fairly obvious to anyone that sees her in that setting that the poor elf has no control over herself when it comes to these things. It was a testament of her love that she could pretend to be meek for even a moment. And there certainly were no complaints. A lot less giggling but no complaints.

    After my lovely elf wrung me dry, I threw Talia and Alana at her as distractions and escaped the bedroom. Why? To tackle the assignment from Morgene. I don¡¯t relish the idea of wracking my brain over cuddling with my lovers but not doing the assignment is going to cause nothing but trouble. I also choose to believe that, for all her many questionable character traits and suspect motivations, Morgene genuinely wants to help me. I know she wants to help Kierra. Simply disregarding those good intentions feels wrong. And if I¡¯m going to do it, it¡¯s best to tackle it while I¡¯m feeling good and happy.

    That¡¯s how I come to be seated behind the desk of the study in the middle of the night, a ¡°film¡± allowing me to see without the use of a candle as I stare down at a piece of paper. The first part of the assignment, listing the problems plaguing the city, was easy. There are only two, with every other inconvenience, big or small, connected to them in some way.

    The first problem, the refugees.

    The second, the lingering hunters.

    Saints, I suppose I could combine them both into one problem, the people of Quest.

    The ruined buildings, the lack of trade, the city¡¯s vulnerability to monsters, all of that can be fixed. Rather, they¡¯re bound to be fixed eventually and there¡¯s no rush to do so. They don¡¯t require intervention. The people are the only immediate problem and the only one without a clear-cut solution. There¡¯s a hole in the walls? Patch it up. House got destroyed? Build another one.

    But what can anyone do about a lost loved one? About the hatred that losing those closest to them generates? This isn¡¯t a problem that can be solved by throwing coins and resources at it. You can¡¯t smash a grudge.

    I should know. The Tomes were persecuted for generations. Fear and pain made us compliant, but it did nothing to erase our resentment. I suppose that I could bring law and order to Quest if I reigned over it as an undisputed tyrant but that is more of a punishment than a solution. Unrealistic as well, as I have no intention of being tied to this city for the rest of my life.

    It doesn¡¯t matter how many resources are poured into the city, if the people are not calmed, their grudge will destroy anything anyone manages to build. Or at the very least, they will twist it. Saints forbid the city becomes another cesspit like Graywatch, synonymous with crime and ill intentions.

    But what am I supposed to do? If there¡¯s a solution, it won¡¯t come from me. I could hand these people a piece of Paradise and I¡¯d be lucky if they didn¡¯t throw it back in my face. Writing something down feels like I¡¯m deluding myself.

    So, I glare at the paper, willing myself to ignore my chaotic thoughts and risk Morgene¡¯s displeasure by putting anything down.

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    That¡¯s how Nomad finds me. I glance up as he knocks on the door, not waiting for an answer before opening it and pushing a cart before him. As usual, anyone that sees him will think that I¡¯m a monster to my servants. The dark bags under his eyes are especially prominent against his sickly pale skin, giving the impression that he hasn¡¯t slept for days. His short hair is messy and not in an artistic way. There is also a slow deliberateness to his every action, as if he¡¯s contemplating each step and gesture or is in incredible pain. It makes for a strange and worrisome demeanor.

    Despite that, he¡¯s competent and considerate. He also takes pride in his position, his uniform impeccable despite the rest of him being in disarray.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I tell him as he sets a steaming cup in front of me. ¡°You know, you don¡¯t always have to prowl around at night.¡± Traditionally, one servant remains awake during the night to keep watch over the house, protecting it from thieves and would be assassins. They¡¯re also meant to welcome unexpected guests. There¡¯s no need to worry about either of those things; no one¡¯s going to threaten all the monsters sharing this house and no one would risk offending us by showing up unannounced. I can¡¯t imagine the rumors that are circling about our clan. Even the Guuiness, who I thought would only leave me be in death, haven¡¯t contacted me since the battle.

    ¡°I belong to the darkness, between the truth and what can be observed.¡±

    Ah, I¡¯ve missed his cryptic way of speaking. I¡¯m guessing he¡¯s saying he isn¡¯t comfortable being seen or something along those lines. Is he not good with people? Wouldn¡¯t surprise me.

    ¡°You are troubled,¡± he states as I sip the tea, somehow pleasant despite its bitterness, the sharp taste perking me up. It¡¯s not a demand but an invitation to share my concerns, which is incredibly rare. Nomad is more than happy to drift through life in silence, quietly seeing to his duties with great competence and little passion. I find myself wanting to respond to his concern and tell him about the assignment.

    ¡°So you see, there is no answer. Except, Morgene assures me there is, which means she¡¯s expecting something and I have no idea what that is.¡±

    We lapse into silence, Nomad looming over his cart, head turned to stare at absolutely nothing for several long minutes. I''m almost convinced that the conversation is finished when he finally responds without looking at me. ¡°We are the skin we choose to wear.¡±

    ¡°¡­I¡¯m gonna need you to explain that one.¡±

    He lets out a great big sigh, as if I¡¯m asking him to hoist the world onto his shoulders. ¡°The skin defines the creature. A beast is a thing of fur and teeth and claws. If you put on a coat of fur, tear into flesh with fangs, and cut down enemies with claws, you are a beast.¡±

    ¡°Um, sure.¡± I guess that makes sense?

    ¡°You do not wear the skin of a lion to swim the river. Don the scales and fins of the fish.¡± He turns to me, dark eyes willing me to understand.

    And by the grace of the saints, I think I do. ¡°The skin¡­you¡¯re talking about identity, right? My identity isn¡¯t compatible with saving anybody. I¡¯m never going to think of a solution for myself¡­so I need to think of how someone else could fix the problems of the city. Then¡­assume their identity? Work through them? Like a proxy.¡±

    He hums, I think in acknowledgment but doesn¡¯t comment. That¡¯s fine. I know what I have to do. Bell tried to give me a clue earlier. Because of my body and my magical talent, I assume the solution always has to come from me, but that isn¡¯t the case, is it? That¡¯s not how the powerful work. I¡¯m sure Geneva, saints all the succubi, could enforce their will through pure might, crushing any opposition with extreme prejudice. Yet, for all her might, she prefers to work through intermediaries, pushing things along from the shadows.

    Yes, this can work. If my name isn¡¯t attached to it, there¡¯s a whole lot I can do to ease the tensions surrounding this city. I don¡¯t need to save everyone. I just want the peace to last a little longer so we can make a clean escape.

    ¡°Thanks, that was actually helpful.¡±

    If he¡¯s offended by my surprise, I can¡¯t tell, his only response being to refill the tea.

 Arc 8-13

    ¡°Have you thought about our previous conversation?¡±

    Orum¡¯s question pulls me out of my silent contemplation. As usual, he found me in the early hours of the morning and led me on a tour of the city. This time, we settle in the shadow of a half-decimated building, the right side a pile of rubble leaning up against the surprisingly intact left half. I can clearly imagine the daily lives of those who used to inhabit it; the first floor is a shop, a restaurant I¡¯m guessing given the number of overturned tables and broken chairs. The second floor is a living area. I know it is because a bedframe hangs out a shattered wall, stuck between the crumbling floor and a particularly large piece of debris. My spectacular eyes spot a broken comb in the remains of a dresser, a plain thing that is either cheap, a beloved hand-me down, or both.

    That was a girl¡¯s room. A young girl that saw the comb as a toy? Or a young woman who cared for her looks? Maybe it was just a part of her responsibility to her family¡¯s business, a pretty smile effective in bringing more business. Or maybe she had a love of her own.

    I shake away the idle thoughts. My mind thinks of such unnecessary things during these quiet moments. Orum asked me something. Ah. ¡°Not really. If you have something you want to tell me, you should just say it. Kii told me you want me to realize something, but wouldn¡¯t it be easier if you just point it out?¡±

    ¡°Do you think yourself incapable of realizing it on your own?¡±

    I frown. Did he just call me stupid? Or at least insinuate it?

    ¡°How do I know? If you¡¯re trying to be as vague as possible, then of course there¡¯s a good chance that I¡¯ll get it wrong. Something like that isn¡¯t my fault. It¡¯s yours if you¡¯re choosing to make this difficult.¡±

    ¡°I see. You¡¯re afraid of making a mistake.¡±

    My frown deepens. Why does he insist on taking what I say in the worst way? ¡°I¡¯m not afraid.¡±

    ¡°There is no reason to be. There is no right answer, therefore there is no wrong answer. We are merely reflecting together. What you derive from that is yours.¡±

    ¡°Reflecting on what?!¡± I shout, voice rising with aggravation. ¡°I destroyed the city and killed a bunch of people. I¡¯m not exactly proud of it but these idiots brought it on themselves. I don¡¯t mind helping them mostly because I don¡¯t want more problems to end up on my doorstep, but I just know it¡¯s going to be a pain. There! That¡¯s the whole of it.¡±

    The older elf is unfazed by my outburst, expression remaining serene. ¡°Last time, we talked about power. How it differentiates people. Puts one above another.¡±

    I groan, covering my eyes with a hand. ¡°Sure,¡± I grumble, accepting that the man is on a mission and he¡¯s not going to stop until he gets what he wants, whatever that is.

    ¡°Why do you believe this?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s obvious. The strong have more influence, more resources, more opportunities. More freedom. The weak are at their mercy. What do you call that if not unequal?¡±

    He hums but there¡¯s no telling if he¡¯s agreeing or not. ¡°If the strongest have the greatest value, then how do you assign value to the rest of the world?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°The weak. Is there a specific strength that divides the worthy from the worthless? Or is worth dependent on strength, adjusting according to one¡¯s might?¡±

    ¡°Uh, it adjusts, I guess. There¡¯s a ladder. Second-lowest run might be an ant to the top rung, but he can still lord over the lowest rung.¡±

    ¡°Then, at what point does strength have less value than utility?¡±

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    ¡°Utility, as in skills? Craftsmen and the like?¡±

    Orum hums again but this time it¡¯s definitely acknowledgment for following along. ¡°Strength is the pinnacle, but our lives require more than just destruction. Someone is responsible for every comfort that makes life pleasurable. The clothes you wear, the wine you drink, the bed you lay in. At what point does their ability to create become more valuable than strength?¡±

    ¡°How do you even measure that?¡±

    ¡°Would you rather be allied to the best winemaker in the kingdom or the strongest fighter?¡±

    ¡°Well, the winemaker but that depends. Plenty of people would choose the fighter, security over luxury. Most people, I bet.¡±

    ¡°But you are not most people.¡±

    ¡°No. I can protect myself.¡±

    ¡°Mm. So you can. I would suggest every sword and fighter capable of wielding them is useless to you.¡±

    ¡°And you. So?¡±

    ¡°When you have strength in abundance, it loses its meaning. That is because power is a tool, destruction a means to an end, not the end itself.¡±

    I point at him. ¡°I¡¯m gonna disagree with you there. Destruction can be a worthy goal.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°Vengeance is a worthy endeavor. I should know. For generations, my family was tormented by bastards called the Grimoires. I¡¯ve wanted to take them down since the first time I laid eyes on one of those redhaired crooks. The thought of taking them down was the sole motivation for my first summoning, where I contracted a legitimate threat to all intelligent life in the world. Their end was the end.¡±

    ¡°Did you plot against them because you wanted to end them? Or did you want to stop them from hurting your loved ones again? From hurting you?¡±

    My heart squeezes painfully as I stare at him with wide eyes. Then hot anger causes me to grit my teeth. ¡°It¡¯s the same thing!¡±

    He shakes his head and stands. He motions for me to follow but I cross my arms, glaring as I hold down the urge to curse him and his annoying questions.

    My frustration deepens when he smiles indulgently. ¡°Power is a tool. There is nothing emptier than a tool without purpose. A properly aimed arrow can change the world, while an arrow without aim is a tragedy waiting to happen. If we do not know where we¡¯re meant to go, it is inevitable we step off the path. So how do we know the direction we¡¯re meant to walk?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d ask you, but you never answer.¡±

    ¡°Your answers are yours¡­but the purpose of the older, wiser generations is to pass down their experience. Some people are led by their mind, using logic to conquer their rampant hearts. Some trust their hearts above all else, ignoring the logic of the world and those around them. Some balance the two, putting them on a scale and using the weight of the circumstances to push down one side or the other. Others still rely on tradition, trusting in another¡¯s judgment more than their own. If you like, ponder this before our next walk.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± I shout, but he ignores me, turning his back and striding away with a grace that doesn¡¯t match his size. I fume at his retreating figure, wanting to get up but refusing to follow him back. Stupid elves and their stupid questions. What happened to the peaceful mornings when we didn¡¯t say two words to one another? Can¡¯t believe I used to think they were uncomfortable. Saints, give me back the silence and take that annoying man¡¯s probing questions.

    Why does he want me to ask them anyway? What does it matter? I wanted to destroy the Grimoires both for their sins and to protect myself. Senior had literally come to threaten me and enslave my elemental when I made him the instrument of his family¡¯s downfall. Of course taking them down was an act of self-defense and defense of my family but even if they¡¯d fled the capital and sworn to disappear, I wouldn¡¯t have forgiven them. Oh yes, Geneva would have hunted them down to the last infant. Not a single one of those rats would have escaped if they dared to flee in the face of their retribution.

    ¡­but is that because I hate them that much or because I know for fact that if they weren¡¯t completely crushed, they¡¯d be a threat one day?

    Agh! No, I said I wasn¡¯t going to think about this! I wanted to end them. Ending them protected me and my family. Two monsters downed with a single arrow. I don¡¯t have to have one reason for doing something and one reason doesn¡¯t have to have more weight than the other. The heart isn¡¯t so simple that every desire or emotion can be neatly cut apart and examined. It¡¯s good enough that people be decent when they can and quick about it when they can¡¯t.

    Grumbling, I close my eyes and focus on my ears, making sure that Orum isn¡¯t anywhere close. Satisfied, I climb to my feet and head for home, shoulders slumping as I realize I¡¯m moving from one annoyance to another.

    Really, can I just kick them out? They don¡¯t need to stay with us, do they?

    I take a moment and imagine what Morgene would do without the mystery that is me to occupy her attention.

    Sigh. Nope, best to leave things as they are.

    I summon the memory of dolled-up Alana trying to be stern to lighten my mood as I head toward my next trial. It might be unavoidable, but there¡¯s no one stopping me from taking my time.

 Arc 8-14

    Once I return, I head straight for the study, my mood sour but wanting to get my meeting with Morgene over with. Surprisingly, the room is empty. I barely have a moment to wonder where my wayward tutor is before a weight hits my shoulder, small hands latching onto me.

    ¡°Coo~¡± Bell says right into my ear, while the mature voice of her true, or should I say preferred, form speaks into my mind. {The elf has requested that you meet her behind the estate.}

    ¡°What for?¡±

    {She requested that I not tell you.}

    ¡°Is it something annoying?¡±

    ¡°Coo!¡± {No more than anything else she does. Less, I assume.}

    Sigh.

    I decide to trust her judgment and the two of us walk through the estate, the imp clinging to my shoulder. We pass through the kitchen to the servant¡¯s entrance at the back of the house.

    I don¡¯t pay much attention to what happens to the estate, as we don¡¯t plan to stay here for long. Everyone can do whatever they care to in pursuit of comfort, but no one has cared to do much; the succubi have rearranged the kitchen and Talia has thrown out some of the decorations she found offended her taste, but that¡¯s it. Or I thought that was the extent of it.

    To the left of the door is a stone deck, formed from compacted dirt, tall enough to require three steps to reach. Bell¡¯s doing, I assume. The two chaise lounges likely came from the house while the tree behind them, its long branches three times the length of its stunted trunk, are probably Orum¡¯s contribution, providing ample shade from the growing presence of the spring sun. A mound of pillows and blankets completes the relaxing area, urging me to take a seat and nap away an afternoon.

    The violet elf roasting meat over a firepit at the edge of the deck doesn¡¯t match the scene at all. Normally, Morgene is a showy dresser, with a penchant for skirts and dresses that I have no idea where she keeps as she and Orum arrived at the estate without a hint of luggage between them. A style I find at odds with her dagger-like personality and stated willingness to engage in bloodsports, but I suppose when one can crush anyone that would dare criticize them, dressing to impress takes on a different meaning, or perhaps loses meaning entirely. Not that she¡¯s not impressive. Just that, so long as she¡¯s not glaring, no one would think she¡¯s a savage whose idea of a good time is breaking someone in mind and body.

    Today, she¡¯s dressed in the tight leathers Kierra prefers, the dull brown vest and pants the simplest garments I¡¯ve ever seen her wear. Her long silver hair is tied up in the exact style Kierra uses sometimes, exposing her slender neck, the only hint of delicateness in her toned body. She holds a bowl in one hand and a brush in the other, wiping something on the meat before turning it.

    ¡°There you are. Good job, pet.¡±

    Bells coos as she leaps from my shoulder, dashing up the steps and stopping at Morgene¡¯s feet. I follow at a far more sedate pace, moving between amusement and disbelief as I watch the imp sit on her back legs and raise her arms like a begging puppy. I know she¡¯s only catering to Morgene¡¯s desires, so the problem lies with the elf. She does realize that Bell isn¡¯t really a pet, right? Specifically, that she¡¯s a thinking creature that possesses an incredible intellect and the experience to support it. That this is all an act, with a goal, likely a menacing one. I hope so. Morgene doesn¡¯t strike me as the willfully ignorant type. I just hope her confidence doesn¡¯t work against her.

    ¡°Ah, Lou.¡± Morgene flashes me a smile, a real one, untainted by her usual sadism. ¡°Thank you for joining me.¡±

    ¡°¡­are you feeling okay?¡±

    She chuckles. ¡°You should know people aren¡¯t just one thing. It¡¯s been brought to my attention that I shouldn¡¯t teach you as I would my children. Spirit knows it¡¯s been said I shouldn¡¯t have taught my children how I taught them. So, we will try something different.¡± She crooks her finger and I hesitantly approach. Her fingers pinch off piece of meat and hand it to me. ¡°Here. I¡¯ve had to improvise with this kingdom¡¯s lacking ingredients but it¡¯s passable.¡±

    I hold out a hand, but she refuses, pressing the food against my lips. I hope no one misunderstands this; that she isn¡¯t misunderstanding it. I give into her insistence and accept the morsel. Hm. ¡°It¡¯s good.¡± Not as good as a succubus but that¡¯s a standard that no one should be held to.

    Morgene smiles prettily. ¡°I¡¯m not the most capable when it comes to preparing meals, but I know my way around meat,¡± she says while chuckling.

    Wait. Is this because Orum insulted her cooking ability one time? Saints, this woman couldn¡¯t accept anyone thinking she has a single weakness, can she? It¡¯s almost cute, not that I¡¯d say that to her face.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the occasion?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t much of an occasion. Orum invited me to hunt. It¡¯s a bit unseemly for us to empty your kitchen when there is scarcity surrounding us. It put me in the mood to try a few recipes. Here, pet.¡± After pinching off a bit of meat and tossing it to Bell, she hands the imp her bowl and brush. ¡°See to the meat. Lou, come.¡±

    Ah, well. I suppose this is as nice as she gets. I follow her and sit stiffly on the corner of one of the chaises. Morgene makes herself comfortable, arranging pillows and blankets until she is properly reclined.

    ¡°Then, your assignment.¡±

    I pull out the paper stuffed into the pocket of my pants, fighting a bout of nerves. ¡°Here.¡±

    She takes it between two slim fingers, unfurling it with care. Her smile freezes as her eyes scan the contents. ¡°Lou?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Why is there only one thing written on here?¡±

    ¡°Cause there¡¯s only one problem,¡± I return, shoulders squaring in anticipation of a verbal sparring. ¡°A city is its people. We sort them out, the rest will follow.¡±

    ¡°¡­I see. I understand the problem.¡± Morgene gracefully rises from her lounging position and walks over to the firepit. I think she¡¯s grabbing a snack¡­until she tosses the paper in the fire.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I shout, jumping to my feet.

    ¡°No need to be upset. It was worthless.¡±

    ¡°Then what was the point of making me do it?!¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t do what I asked.¡± I match her glower as she strides toward me, a predator lazily approaching prey. ¡°I told you to write down what is bothering you. Who cares about a few rats scrambling in the dark?¡±

    I pause, offense upended by shock as I gape at her. ¡°I¡­well, it¡¯s eventually going to be my problem so¡ª"

    ¡°Then that is what you should have written. What¡¯s worrying you isn¡¯t the perils of the people, but that said perils will intrude on your life. That is what you should be solving.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I wrote! I¡ª"

    A finger on my lips shushes me. ¡°You were meant to ease your burdens. How can this be a proper solution if simply discussing it is stressing you out more?¡±

    ¡°Well it wouldn¡¯t be if you hadn¡¯t burned my saints damned¡ª"

    This time I¡¯m silenced by Morgene wrapping my arms around my neck and yanking me forward, burying my nose in her chest. The leather rubbing against my nose is a little uncomfortable, made more so about who is hugging me, but it¡¯s not terrible. ¡°You, my daughter-by-choice, need to learn to be more selfish.¡±

    I scoff. Does she know who she¡¯s talking to? ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine there.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Says the woman that is trying to cater to the needs of her enemies.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just easier¡ª"

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s easier for them if you work through a proxy to solve their problems because otherwise, they might get upset and reject the hand going out of its way to lift them out of squalor.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡ª"

    ¡°Says the woman who allowed the Hall to exile her because she didn¡¯t want the old man running the silly school to keel over from a heart attack.¡±

    ¡°Who would willingly start problems with the Harvest Hero¡ª"

    She smushes me into her chest harder, turning my words into mumbles. ¡°I suppose this place is to blame, smothering such a pure heart until it confused itself.¡±

    ¡°What in the Abyss are you talking about?¡± I grumble but it comes out as unintelligible grunts.

    ¡°Orum would walk for hours and point out clouds until you figured it out yourself but there¡¯s something to be said for directness. Listen to me. Stop pretending you don¡¯t care. Clearly, you do, or your heart wouldn¡¯t be in such turmoil.¡±

    I stiffen in her arms but that doesn¡¯t stop her. ¡°You care about your clan, as you should. You also care about these apes you have the misfortune to share a species with, for spirit knows what reason. You care about your human family, and your reputation, and you probably care about the poor, clumsy baby birds who shatter their wings when they try to fly.¡±

    Okay. Now I¡¯m offended.

    I push her away, the elf smiling as she stumbles away from me. ¡°This isn¡¯t working out,¡± I growl, annoyed further by her humor. ¡°I thought you wanted to help me but if all you¡¯re going to do is make fun of me¡ª"

    ¡°Why in the world do you think me saying you care is an insult?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re saying it like it is!¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re projecting your bias onto me. I would never mock a merciful heart. My race wouldn¡¯t exist if a being of infinite power didn¡¯t take mercy on us. The only thing I would scorn is not having the strength to back your convictions, whether they be heroic or villainous.¡± She raises a finger, twirling it teasingly. ¡°What you need to ask yourself is why you abhor the idea of being a force for good. Until you accept yourself, you¡¯ll never find peace.¡±

    ¡­that settles it.

    ¡°You¡¯re actually crazy.¡±

    ¡°And you, delusional.¡±

    {We have a guest, Master Lou.}

    Bell¡¯s interruption is timely, her small form perched at the end of the meat spit, holding the bowl in one hand and the brush in her tail a welcome distraction. ¡°Who?¡±

    {A messenger. Earl is coming.}

    As promised, the steward arrives in short order, letter in hand. ¡°Excuse me, my lady. This just arrived.¡±

    I take it, noting the smooth texture. The expensive stuff, then. Perfumed too. This wasn¡¯t sent by a laborer or a hunter. Saints, I know exactly who it¡¯s from without bothering to open it. The golden envelope with a white bird on the back is an obvious clue.

    Seems Marcella is done ignoring me.